{"article_id": "52845", "set_unique_id": "52845_75VB1ISR", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1001", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Girl in His Mind", "year": 1950, "author": "Young, Robert F.", "topic": "Guilt -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Psychological fiction", "article": "THE GIRL IN HIS MIND\nBy ROBERT F. YOUNG\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of Tomorrow April 1963\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nEvery man's mind is a universe with countless\n\n places in which he can hide—even from himself!\nThe dance that the chocoletto girl was performing was an expurgated\n version of the kylee sex ritual which the Louave maidens of Dubhe 7\n practiced on the eve of their betrothal. Expurgated or not, however,\n it was still on the lascivious side. The G-string that constituted\n the chocoletto girl's entire costume put her but one degree above the\n nakedness which the original dance demanded. Nathan Blake's voice was\n slightly thick when he summoned the waiter who was hovering in the\n shadows at the back of the room. \"Is she free?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"I do not know, mensakin. Perhaps.\"\n\n\n Blake resumed watching. The girl's movements were a delicate blend of\n love and lust. Her face accompanied her body, eyes half-lidded one\n moment to match the languid motion of her limbs, wide and feral the\n next to match the furious bump and grind of her hips. For a chocoletto\n she was light-skinned—more bronze, really, than brown. But then,\n the word \"chocoletto\", coined by the early beche-la-mer traders, was\n misleading, and few of the natives of Dubhe 4's southern-most continent\n lived up to it completely.\n\n\n She was beautiful too. Her high-cheekboned face was striking—the eyes\n dark-brown and wide-apart, the mouth sensuous, the teeth showing in a\n vivid white line between the half-parted purple lips. And her body was\n splendid. Blake had never seen anyone quite like her.\n\n\n He beckoned to her when the dance was over and, after slipping into\n a white thigh-length tunic, she joined him at his table. She ordered\n Martian wine in a liquid voice, and sipped it with a finesse that\n belied her cannibalistic forebears. \"You wish a night?\" she asked.\n\n\n Blake nodded. \"If you are free.\"\n\n\n \"Three thousand quandoes.\"\n\n\n He did not haggle, but counted out the amount and handed it to her. She\n slipped the bills into a thigh sheath-purse, told him her hut number\n and stood up to leave. \"I will meet you there in an hour,\" she said.\nHer hut was as good a place to wait for her as any. After buying a\n bottle of native whiskey at the bar, Blake went out into the Dubhe 4\n night and made his way through the labyrinthine alleys of the native\n sector. In common with all chocoletto huts, Eldoria's was uncared for\n on the outside, and gave a false impression of poverty. He expected to\n find the usual hanger-on waiting in the anteroom, and looked forward to\n booting him out into the alley. Instead he found a young girl—\n\n\n A human girl.\n\n\n He paused in the doorway. The girl was sitting cross-legged on a small\n mat, a book open on her lap. Xenophon's\nAnabasis\n. Her hair made him\n think of the copper-colored sunrises of Norma 9 and her eyes reminded\n him of the blue tarns of Fornax 6. \"Come in,\" she said.\n\n\n After closing the door, he sat down opposite her on the guest mat.\n Behind her, a gaudy arras hid the hut's other room. \"You are here to\n wait for Eldoria?\" she asked.\n\n\n Blake nodded. \"And you?\"\n\n\n She laughed. \"I am here because I live here,\" she said.\n\n\n He tried to assimilate the information, but could not. Perceiving his\n difficulty, the girl went on, \"My parents indentured themselves to the\n Great Starway Cartel and were assigned to the rubber plantations of\n Dubhe 4. They died of yellow-water dysentery before their indenture ran\n out, and in accordance with Interstellar Law I was auctioned off along\n with the rest of their possessions. Eldoria bought me.\"\n\n\n Five years as a roving psycheye had hardened Blake to commercial\n colonization practices; nevertheless, he found the present example of\n man's inhumanity to man sickening.\n\n\n \"How old are you?\" Blake asked.\n\n\n \"Fourteen.\"\n\n\n \"And what are you going to be when you grow up?\"\n\n\n \"Probably I shall be a psychiatrist. Eldoria is sending me to the\n mission school now, and afterward she is going to put me through an\n institute of higher learning. And when I come of age, she is going to\n give me my freedom.\"\n\n\n \"I see,\" Blake said. He indicated the book on her lap. \"Homework?\"\n\n\n She shook her head. \"In addition to my courses at the mission school, I\n am studying the humanities.\"\n\n\n \"Xenophon,\" Blake said. \"And I suppose Plato too.\"\n\n\n \"And Homer and Virgil and Aeschylus and Euripides and all the rest of\n them. When I grow up I shall be a most well-educated person.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sure you will be,\" Blake said, looking at the arras.\n\n\n \"My name is Deirdre.\"\n\n\n \"Nathan,\" Blake said. \"Nathan Blake.\"\n\n\n \"Eldoria will be arriving soon. I must go and prepare her dais.\"\nShe got up, parted the arras, and slipped into the next room. Shame\n flamed in Blake's cheeks, and for a moment he considered leaving; then\n he remembered Eldoria's dance, and he went right on sitting where he\n was.\n\n\n Presently the girl returned, and not long afterward the cloying scent\n of native incense crept beneath the arras and permeated the anteroom.\n She sat sideways on the mat this time, and he caught her face in\n profile. There was a suggestion of saintliness in the line of the nose\n and chin, a suggestion made all the more poignant by the slender column\n of the neck. He shifted uncomfortably on the guest mat. She had taken\n up the\nAnabasis\nagain, and silence was pounding silent fists upon the\n walls.\n\n\n He was relieved when Eldoria finally arrived. She ushered him into\n the next room immediately. It was slightly larger than the anteroom,\n and much more richly appointed. A thick carpet the color of Martian\n waterways lay upon the floor, contrasting pleasantly with the golden\n tapestries that adorned all four walls. The sleeping dais was oval\n and took up nearly half the floor space. It was strewn with scarlet\n cushions.\n\n\n Blake sat down upon it. Nervously he watched Eldoria slip out of her\n white street robe, his eyes moving back and forth from her smooth dark\n skin to the arras. The incense thickened around him.\n\n\n She noticed the back-and-forth movement of his eyes. \"You need not fear\n the little one,\" she said, laying her hand upon his knee. \"She will not\n enter.\"\n\n\n \"It's not that so much,\" Blake said.\n\n\n \"What?\" The warm bronze shoulder was touching his....\n\n\n He rose up once in the night, thinking to find his hotel bed. His next\n awakening was in the grayness of dawn, and he got up and dressed and\n moved silently to the doorway. The girl slept just without the arras on\n a thin sleeping-mat, and he had to step over her to gain the anteroom.\n In sleep, a strand of her copper-colored hair had tumbled down across\n her forehead and lay like a lovely flower upon the virginal whiteness\n of her skin. There was something saintly about her quiet face.\n\n\n When he reached the alley he began to run, and he did not stop running\n till the chocoletto sector was far behind him.\nThe hill was a memory-image and Aldebaran 12 rain-country hills were\n notoriously steep. Blake was breathing hard when he reached the crest.\n\n\n Before him lay a memory-image of a section of Deneb 1 wasteland. The\n image extended for no more than half a mile, but Blake was annoyed\n that he should have remembered even that much of the wretched terrain.\n Ideally, a man's mind-country should have been comprised only of the\n places and times he wanted to remember. Practically, however, that was\n far from being the case.\n\n\n He glanced back down into the rain-pocked valley that he had just\n crossed. The rain and the mist made for poor visibility. He could only\n faintly distinguish the three figures of his pursuers. The trio seemed\n a little closer now.\nEver since he had first set foot into his mind, some ten hours ago,\n they had been on his trail, but for some reason he had been unable\n to bring himself to go back and find out who they were and what they\n wanted. Hence he was as vexed with himself as he was with them.\n\n\n After resting for a few minutes, he descended the hill and started\n across the Deneb 1 wasteland. It was a remarkably detailed\n materialization, and his quarry's footprints stood out clearly in the\n duplicated sand.\n\n\n Sabrina York did not even know the rudiments of the art of throwing\n off a mind-tracker. It would have done her but little good if she\n had, for twelve years as a psycheye had taught Blake all the tricks.\n Probably she had taken it for granted that the mere act of hiding out\n in her tracker's mind was in itself a sufficient guarantee of her\n safety. After all, she had no way of knowing that he had discovered her\n presence.\n\n\n Mind-country was as temporally inconsecutive as it was topographically\n incongruous, so Blake was not surprised when the Deneb 1 wasteland gave\n way to an expanse of boyhood meadow. Near the meadow was the house\n where Blake had lived at a much later date. In reality, the places were\n as far apart in miles as they were in years, but here in the country\n of his mind they existed side by side, surrounded by heterogeneous\n landscapes from all over the civilized sector of the galaxy and by the\n sharply demarcated spectra of a hundred different suns. A few of the\n suns were in the patchwork sky—Sirius, for example, and its twinkling\n dwarf companion. Most of them, however, were present only in their\n remembered radiance. To add to the confusion, scattered night memories\n interrupted the hodge-podge horizon with columns of darkness, and here\n and there the gray column of a dawn or dusk memory showed.\n\n\n The house was flanked on one side by a section of a New Earth spaceport\n and on the other by an excerpt of an Ex-earth city-block. Behind it\n flowed a brief blue stretch of Martian waterway.\n\n\n Sabrina's footsteps led up to the front door, and the door itself was\n ajar. Perhaps she was still inside. Perhaps she was watching him even\n now through one of the remembered windows. He scanned them with a\n professional eye, but saw no sign of her.\n\n\n Warily he stepped inside, adjusting the temperature of his all-weather\n jacket to the remembered air-conditioning. His father was sitting in\n the living room, smoking, and watching 3V. He had no awareness of\n Blake. At Blake's entry he went right on smoking and watching as though\n the door had neither opened nor closed. He would go right on smoking\n and watching till Blake died and the conglomeration of place-times\n that constituted Blake's mind-world ceased to be. Ironically, he was\n watching nothing. The 3V program that had been in progress at the time\n of the unconscious materialization had failed to come through.\nThe memory was a treasured one—the old man had perished in a 'copter\n crash several years ago—and for a long while Blake did not move.\n He had never been in his own mind before. Consequently he was more\n affected than he might otherwise have been. Finally, stirring himself,\n he walked out into the kitchen. On a shelf above the sink stood a gaily\n colored box of his mother's favorite detergent with a full-length\n drawing of Vera Velvetskin, the company's blond and chic visual symbol,\n on the front. His mother was standing before the huge automatic range,\n preparing a meal she had served twenty-three years ago. He regarded her\n with moist eyes. She had died a dozen years before his father, but the\n wound that her death had caused had never healed. He wanted to go up\n behind her and touch her shoulder and say, \"What's for supper, mom?\"\n but he knew it would do no good. For her he had no reality, not only\n because he was far in her future, but because in his mind-world she was\n a mortal and he, a god—a picayune god, perhaps, but a real one.\n\n\n As he was about to turn away, the name-plate on the range caught his\n eye, and thinking that he had read the two words wrong, he stepped\n closer so that he could see them more clearly. No, he had made no\n mistake: the first word was \"Sabrina\", and the second was \"York\".\n\n\n He stepped back. Odd that a kitchen range should have the same name as\n his quarry. But perhaps not unduly so. Giving appliances human names\n had been common practice for centuries. Even a name like \"Sabrina\n York\", while certainly not run-of-the-mill, was bound to be duplicated\n in real life. Nevertheless a feeling of uneasiness accompanied him when\n he left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to the second floor.\n\n\n He went through each room systematically, but saw no sign of Sabrina\n York. He lingered for some time in his own room, wistfully watching his\n fifteen-year-old self lolling on the bed with a dog-eared copy of\nThe\n Galaxy Boys and the Secret of the Crab Nebula\n, then he stepped back\n out into the hall and started to descend the stairs.\n\n\n At the head of the stairs a narrow window looked out over the front\n yard and thence out over the meadow. He glanced absently through the\n panes, and came to an abrupt halt. His three pursuers were wading\n through the long meadow grass less than a quarter of a mile away—not\n close enough as yet for him to be able to make out their faces, but\n close enough for him to be able to see that two of them were wearing\n dresses and that the third had on a blue skirt and blouse, and a kepi\n to match. He gasped. It simply hadn't occurred to him that his pursuers\n might be women. To his consternation he discovered that he was even\n more loath to go back and accost them than he had been before. He\n actually had an impulse to flee.\n\n\n He controlled it and descended the stairs with exaggerated slowness,\n leaving the house by way of the back door. He picked up Sabrina's trail\n in the back yard and followed it down to the Martian waterway and\n thence along the bank to where the waterway ended and a campus began.\n Not the campus of the university which he had visited two days ago to\n attend his protegee's graduation. It was not a place-time that he cared\n to revisit, nor a moment that he cared to relive, but Sabrina's trail\n led straight across the artificially stunted grass toward the little\n bench where he and Deirdre Eldoria had come to talk after the ceremony\n was over. He had no choice.\nThe bench stood beneath a towering American elm whose feathery branches\n traced green arabesques against the blue June sky. A set of footprints\n slightly deeper than its predecessors indicated that Sabrina had\n paused by the trunk. Despite himself Blake paused there too. Pain\n tightened his throat when he looked at Deirdre's delicate profile\n and copper-colored hair, intensified when he lowered his eyes to the\n remembered blueness of her graduation dress. The diamond brooch that he\n had given her as a graduation present, and which she had proudly pinned\n upon her bodice for the whole wide world to see, made him want to\n cry. His self-image of two weeks ago shocked him. There were lines on\n the face that did not as yet exist, and the brown hair was shot with\n streaks of gray that had yet to come into being. Lord, he must have\n been feeling old to have pictured himself like that!\n\n\n Deirdre was speaking. \"Yes,\" she was saying, \"at nine o'clock. And I\n should very much like for you to come.\"\n\n\n Blake Past shook his head. \"Proms aren't for parents. You know that\n as well as I do. That young man you were talking with a few minutes\n ago—he's the one who should take you. He'd give his right arm for the\n chance.\"\n\n\n \"I'll thank you not to imply that you're my father. One would think\n from the way you talk that you are centuries old!\"\n\n\n \"I'm thirty-eight,\" Blake Past said, \"and while I may not be your\n father, I'm certainly old enough to be. That young man—\"\n\n\n A pink flush of anger climbed into Deirdre Eldoria's girlish cheeks.\n \"What right has\nhe\ngot to take me! Did\nhe\nscrimp and go without\n in order to put me through high school and college? Has\nhe\nbooked\n passage for me to New Earth and paid my tuition to Trevor University?\"\n\n\n \"Please,\" Blake Past said, desperation deepening his voice. \"You're\n only making everything worse. After majoring in Trevorism, you\n certainly ought to realize by now that there was nothing noble about my\n buying you after Eldoria died. I only did it to ease my conscience—\"\n\n\n \"What do\nyou\nknow about conscience?\" Deirdre demanded. \"Conscience\n is a much more complex mechanism than most laymen realize. Guilt\n feelings aren't reliable criteria. They can stem from false\n causes—from ridiculous things like a person's inability to accept\n himself for what he is.\" Abruptly she dropped the subject. \"Don't you\n realize, Nate,\" she went on a little desperately, \"that I'm leaving\n tomorrow and that we won't see each other again for years and years?\"\n\n\n \"I'll come to New Earth to visit you,\" Blake said. \"Venus is only a few\n days distant on the new ships.\"\n\n\n She stood up. \"You won't come—I know you won't.\" She stamped her foot.\n \"And you won't come to the prom either. I know that too. I knew it all\n along. Sometimes I'm tempted to—\" Abruptly she broke off. \"Very well\n then,\" she went on, \"I'll say good-by now then.\"\n\n\n Blake Past stood up too. \"No, not yet. I'll walk back to the sorority\n house with you.\"\n\n\n She tossed her head, but the sadness in her tarn-blue eyes belied her\n hauteur. \"If you wish,\" she said.\nBlake Present watched them set out side by side toward the remembered\n halls of learning that showed in the distance. There had been other\n people present on the campus that afternoon, but as they had failed to\n register on Blake Past's mind, they did not exist for Blake Present.\n All that existed for Blake Present were the diminishing figures of the\n girl and the man, and the pain that was constricting his throat.\n\n\n Wretchedly he turned away. As he did so he saw the three shadows lying\n at his feet and knew that his pursuers had at last caught up to him.\n\n\n His first reaction when he faced them was amazement. His next reaction\n was shock. His third was fear.\n\n\n His amazement resulted from recognition. One of the three women arrayed\n before him was Miss Stoddart, his boyhood Sunday-school teacher.\n Standing next to her in a familiar blue uniform was Officer Finch,\n the police woman who had maintained law and order in the collective\n elementary school he had attended. Standing next to Officer Finch was\n blond and chic Vera Velvetskin, whose picture he had seen on box after\n countless box of his mother's favorite detergent.\n\n\n His shock resulted from the expressions on the three faces. Neither\n Miss Stoddart nor Officer Finch ever particularly liked him, but they\n had never particularly disliked him either. This Miss Stoddart and this\n Officer Finch disliked him, though. They hated him. They hated him so\n much that their hatred had thinned out their faces and darkened their\n eyes. More shocking yet, Vera Velvetskin, who had never existed save\n in some copywriter's mind, hated him too. In fact, judging from the\n greater thinness of her face and the more pronounced darkness of her\n eyes, she hated him even more than Miss Stoddart and Officer Finch did.\n\n\n His fear resulted from the realization that his mind-world contained\n phenomena it had no right to contain—not if he was nearly as\n well-adjusted as he considered himself to be. The three women standing\n before him definitely were not memory-images. They were too vivid, for\n one thing. For another, they were aware of him. What were they, then?\n And what were they doing in his mind?\n\n\n He asked the two questions aloud.\n\n\n Three arms were raised and three forefingers were pointed accusingly at\n his chest. Three pairs of eyes burned darkly. \"You ask us that?\" Miss\n Stoddart said. \"Callous creature who did a maiden's innocence affront!\"\n said Officer Finch. \"And sought sanctuary in ill-fitting robes of\n righteousness!\" said Vera Velvetskin. The three faces moved together,\n blurred and seemed to blend into one. The three voices were raised in\n unison: \"You know who we are, Nathan Blake.\nYou\nknow who we are!\"\n\n\n Blake stared at them open-mouthed. Then he turned and fled.\nIt had taken man a long time to discover that he was a god in his\n own right and that he too was capable of creating universes. Trivial\n universes, to be sure, when compared with the grandeur and scope of the\n objective one, and peopled with ghosts instead of human beings; but\n universes nonetheless.\n\n\n The discovery came about quite by accident. After projecting himself\n into a patient's memory one day, a psychologist named Trevor suddenly\n found himself clinging to the slope of a traumatically distorted\n mountain. His patient was beside him.\n\n\n The mountain proved to be an unconscious memory-image out of the\n patient's boyhood, and its country proved to be the country of the\n patient's mind. After many trials and errors, Trevor managed to get\n both himself and his patient back to the objective world, and not long\n afterward he was able to duplicate the feat on another case.\n\n\n The next logical step was to enter his own mind, and this he also\n succeeded in doing.\n\n\n It was inevitable that Trevor should write a book about his discovery\n and set about founding a new school of psychology. It was equally\n inevitable that he should acquire enemies as well as disciples.\n However, as the years passed and the new therapy which he devised cured\n more and more psychoses, the ranks of his disciples swelled and those\n of his enemies shrank. When, shortly before his death, he published a\n paper explaining how anyone could enter his or her own mind-world at\n will, his niche in the Freudian hall of fame was assured.\n\n\n The method employed an ability that had been evolving in the human mind\n for millennia—the ability to project oneself into a past moment—or,\n to use Trevor's term, a past \"place-time.\" Considerable practice was\n required before the first transition could be achieved, but once it\n was achieved, successive transitions became progressively easier.\n Entering another person's mind-world was of course a more difficult\n undertaking, and could be achieved only after an intensive study of\n a certain moment in that person's past. In order to return to the\n objective world, it was necessary in both cases to locate the most\n recently materialized place-time and take one step beyond it.\n\n\n By their very nature, mind-countries were confusing. They existed on\n a plane of reality that bore no apparent relationship to the plane\n of the so-called objective universe. In fact, so far as was known,\n this secondary—or subjective—reality was connected to so-called\n true reality only through the awareness of the various creators. In\n addition, these countries had no outward shape in the ordinary sense of\n the word, and while most countries contained certain parallel images,\n these images were subject to the interpretation of the individual\n creator. As a result they were seldom identical.\nIt was inevitable that sooner or later some criminal would hit upon\n the idea of hiding out in his own mind-world till the statute of\n limitations that applied to his particular crime ran out, and it was\n equally inevitable that others should follow suit. Society's answer was\n the psyche-police, and the psyche-police hadn't been in action very\n long before the first private psycheye appeared.\n\n\n Blake was one of a long line of such operators.\n\n\n So far as he knew, the present case represented the first time a\n criminal had ever hidden out in the pursuer's mind. It would have been\n a superb stratagem indeed if, shortly after her entry, Sabrina York\n had not betrayed her presence. For her point of entry she had used\n the place-time materialization of the little office Blake had opened\n on Ex-earth at the beginning of his career. Unaccountably she had\n ransacked it before moving into a co-terminous memory-image.\n\n\n Even this action wouldn't have given her away, however, if the office\n hadn't constituted a sentimental memory. Whenever Blake accepted a case\n he invariably thought of the bleak and lonely little room with its\n thin-gauge steel desk and battered filing cabinets, and when he had\n done so after accepting his case—or was it before? He couldn't quite\n remember—the mental picture that had come into his mind had revealed\n open drawers, scattered papers and a general air of disarray.\n\n\n He had suspected the truth immediately, and when he had seen the\n woman's handkerchief with the initials \"SB\" embroidered on it lying\n by one of the filing cabinets he had known definitely that his quarry\n was hiding out in his mind. Retiring to his bachelor quarters, he had\n entered at the same place-time and set off in pursuit.\n\n\n Her only advantage lost, Sabrina York was now at his mercy. Unless\n she discovered his presence and was able to locate his most recently\n materialized place-time before he over-took her, her capture was\n assured.\n\n\n Only two things bothered Blake. The little office was far in his past,\n and it was unlikely that anyone save the few intimate acquaintances\n whom he had told about it were aware that it had ever existed. How,\n then, had a total stranger such as Sabrina York learned enough about it\n to enable her to use it as a point of entry?\n\n\n The other thing that bothered him was of a much more urgent nature.\n He had been in enough minds and he had read enough on the subject\n of Trevorism to know that people were sometimes capable of creating\n beings considerably higher on the scale of mind-country evolution\n than ordinary memory-ghosts. One woman whom he had apprehended in her\n own mind had created a walking-talking Virgin Mary who watched over\n her wherever she went. And once, after tracking down an ex-enlisted\n man, he had found his quarry holed up in the memory-image of an army\n barracks with a ten-star general waiting on him hand and foot. But\n these, and other, similar, cases, had to do with mal-adjusted people,\n and moreover, the super-image in each instance had been an image that\n the person involved had\nwanted\nto create. Therefore, even assuming\n that Blake was less well-adjusted than he considered himself to be, why\n had he created three such malevolent super-images as Miss Stoddart,\n Officer Finch, and Vera Velvetskin?\nThey followed him off the campus into a vicarious memory-image of\n Walden Pond, Thoreau's shack, and the encompassing woods. Judging from\n the ecstatic \"oh's\" and \"ah's\" they kept giving voice to, the place\n delighted them. Once, glancing back over his shoulder, he saw them\n standing in front of Thoreau's shack, looking at it as though it were a\n doll's house. Not far away, Thoreau was sitting in under a tall pine,\n gazing up into the branches at a bird that had come through only as a\n vague blur of beak and feathers.\n\n\n Blake went on. Presently the Walden Pond memory-image gave way to a\n memory-image of an English park which the ex-Earth government had set\n aside as a memorial to the English poets and which had impressed Blake\n sufficiently when he had visited it in his youth to have found a place\n for itself in the country of his mind. It consisted of reconstructions\n of famous dwellings out of the lives of the poets, among them, a\n dwelling out of the life of a poet who was not in the strictest sense\n of the word English at all—the birthplace of Robert Burns. Oddly\n enough, it was Burns's birthplace that had impressed Blake most. Now\n the little cottage stood out in much more vivid detail than any of the\n other famous dwellings.\n\n\n Sabrina York must have been attracted to the place, for her footprints\n showed that she had turned in at the gate, walked up the little path\n and let herself in the door.\n\n\n They also showed that she had left by the same route, so there was no\n reason for Blake to linger. As a matter of fact, the fascination that\n had brought the place into being had been replaced by an illogical\n repugnance. But repugnance can sometimes be as compelling a force as\n fascination, and Blake not only lingered but went inside as well.\n\n\n He remembered the living room distinctly—the flagstone floor, the huge\n grill-fronted hearth, the deeply recessed window, the rack of cups and\n platters on the wall; the empty straight-backed chair standing sternly\n in a corner, the bare wooden table—\n\n\n He paused just within the doorway. The chair was no longer empty, the\n table no longer bare.\n\n\n A man sat on the former and a bottle of wine stood on the latter.\n Moreover, the room showed signs of having been lived in for a long\n time. The floor was covered with tracked-in dirt and the walls were\n blackened from smoke. The grill-work of the hearth was begrimed with\n grease.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How much time has passed between Blake's night with Eldoria and his search for Sabrina York in his mind-world?", "question_unique_id": "52845_75VB1ISR_1", "options": ["7 years", "10 hours", "12 years", "1 hour"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Deirdre get so upset when Blake Past suggests she go to prom with the young man?", "question_unique_id": "52845_75VB1ISR_2", "options": ["Because Blake is trying to guilt Deirdre into going with the young man by telling her that it'll ease her conscience. ", "Because Deirdre has fallen in love with Blake, despite his age, and wants him to take her to the prom.  ", "Because Blake is acting like he's her father, which is a sensitive topic for Deirdre because she lost her real parents. ", "Because the young man gave up his right arm in order to afford tickets to the prom, and this disgusts Deirdre. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does shame flame in Blake's cheeks when Deirdre goes to prepare Eldoria's dias?", "question_unique_id": "52845_75VB1ISR_3", "options": ["He is embarrassed at the thought that Deirdre might enter the room while he is sleeping with Eldoria. ", "He feels that prostitution is morally reprehensible. ", "He feels guilty about sleeping with Eldoria when there's a child in the hut, Deirdre, who knows exactly what's going on. ", "He feels guilty about wishing Deirdre was older so he could sleep with her instead. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Blake create the three female super-images of Miss Stoddart, Officer Finch, and Vera Velvetskin?", "question_unique_id": "52845_75VB1ISR_4", "options": ["He feels guilty about having slept with Eldoria which perpetuated the demand for female prostitution. ", "Even though he is a psycheye, he feels guilty about hunting down Sabrina York. ", "He is still grieving his mother's death and regrets not being a more loving son.", "He feels guilty about hurting Deirdre's feelings after her graduation when he ignored their romantic connection, and instead, played the part of a parent. \n"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Sabrina York is ", "question_unique_id": "52845_75VB1ISR_5", "options": ["a criminal that Blake is hunting", "a psycheye that taught Blake all the tricks", "an old friend of Blake's", "Eldoria's alter ego"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why doesn't Blake haggle with Eldoria about the price for her services?", "question_unique_id": "52845_75VB1ISR_6", "options": ["He's afraid that if he angers her, she'll revert to the cannibalism of her forebears. ", "He knows she needs the money to move out of her chocoletto hut. ", "He has been making a lot of money as a private pyscheye and can afford the high price. ", "He has never seen anyone like her, and after seeing her dance, he believes she's worth the price."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/2/8/4/52845//52845-h//52845-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "30029", "set_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1001", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Lost in Translation", "year": 1972, "author": "Janifer, Laurence M.", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "LOST\n\n IN\n\n TRANSLATION\nBy\nLARRY M.\n\n HARRIS\nIn language translation, you may get a literally accurate\n word-for-word translation ... but miss the meaning entirely. And in\n space-type translation ... the effect may be the same!\nIllustrated by Schoenherr\nThe cell had been put together more efficiently than any Korvin had\n ever been in. But that was only natural, he told himself sadly; the\n Tr'en were an efficient people. All the preliminary reports had agreed\n on that; their efficiency, as a matter of fact, was what had made\n Korvin's arrival a necessity. They were well into the atomic era, and\n were on the verge of developing space travel. Before long they'd be\n settling the other planets of their system, and then the nearer stars.\n Faster-than-light travel couldn't be far away, for the magnificently\n efficient physical scientists of the Tr'en—and that would mean, in\n the ordinary course of events, an invitation to join the Comity of\n Planets.\n\n\n An invitation, the Comity was sure, which the Tr'en would not accept.\n\n\n Korvin stretched out on the cell's single bunk, a rigid affair which\n was hardly meant for comfort, and sighed. He'd had three days of\n isolation, with nothing to do but explore the resources of his own\n mind. He'd tried some of the ancient Rhine experiments, but that was\n no good; he still didn't show any particular psi talents. He couldn't\n unlock the cell door with his unaided mind; he couldn't even alter the\n probability of a single dust-mote's Brownian path through the somewhat\n smelly air. Nor could he disappear from his cell and appear, as if by\n magic, several miles away near the slightly-damaged hulk of his ship,\n to the wonder and amazement of his Tr'en captors.\n\n\n He could do, as a matter of fact, precisely nothing. He wished quietly\n that the Tr'en had seen fit to give him a pack of cards, or a book, or\n even a folder of tourist pictures. The Wonders of Tr'en, according to\n all the advance reports, were likely to be pretty boring, but they'd\n have been better than nothing.\n\n\n In any decently-run jail, he told himself with indignation, there\n would at least have been other prisoners to talk to. But on Tr'en\n Korvin was all alone.\n\n\n True, every night the guards came in and gave him a concentrated\n lesson in the local language, but Korvin failed to get much pleasure\n out of that, being unconscious at the time. But now he was equipped to\n discuss almost anything from philosophy to plumbing, but there was\n nobody to discuss it with. He changed position on the bunk and stared\n at the walls. The Tr'en were efficient; there weren't even any\n imperfections in the smooth surface to distract him.\n\n\n He wasn't tired and he wasn't hungry; his captors had left him with a\n full stock of food concentrates.\n\n\n But he was almightily bored, and about ready to tell anything to\n anyone, just for the chance at a little conversation.\n\n\n As he reached this dismal conclusion, the cell door opened. Korvin got\n up off the bunk in a hurry and spun around to face his visitor.\n\n\n The Tr'en was tall, and slightly green.\n\n\n He looked, as all the Tr'en did, vaguely humanoid—that is, if you\n don't bother to examine him closely. Life in the universe appeared to\n be rigidly limited to humanoid types on oxygen planets; Korvin didn't\n know why, and neither did anybody else. There were a lot of theories,\n but none that accounted for all the facts satisfactorily. Korvin\n really didn't care about it; it was none of his business.\n\n\n The Tr'en regarded him narrowly through catlike pupils. \"You are\n Korvin,\" he said.\n\n\n It was a ritual, Korvin had learned. \"You are of the Tr'en,\" he\n replied. The green being nodded.\n\n\n \"I am Didyak of the Tr'en,\" he said. Amenities over with, he relaxed\n slightly—but no more than slightly—and came into the cell, closing\n the door behind him. Korvin thought of jumping the Tr'en, but decided\n quickly against it. He was a captive, and it was unwise to assume that\n his captors had no more resources than the ones he saw: a small\n translucent pistollike affair in a holster at the Tr'en's side, and a\n small knife in a sheath at the belt. Those Korvin could deal with; but\n there might be almost anything else hidden and ready to fire on him.\n\n\n \"What do you want with me?\" Korvin said. The Tr'en speech—apparently\n there was only one language on the planet—was stiff and slightly\n awkward, but easily enough learned under drug hypnosis; it was the\n most rigorously logical construction of its kind Korvin had ever come\n across. It reminded him of some of the mathematical metalanguages he'd\n dealt with back on Earth, in training; but it was more closely and\n carefully constructed than even those marvels.\n\n\n \"I want nothing with you,\" Didyak said, leaning against the\n door-frame. \"You have other questions?\"\n\n\n Korvin sighed. \"What are you doing here, then?\" he asked. As\n conversation, it wasn't very choice; but it was, he admitted, better\n than solitude.\n\n\n \"I am leaning against the door,\" Didyak said. The Tr'en literalist\n approach to the smallest problems of everyday living was a little hard\n to get the hang of, Korvin told himself bitterly. He thought for a\n second.\n\n\n \"Why did you come to me?\" he said at last.\n\n\n Didyak beamed at him. The sight was remarkably unpleasant, involving\n as it did the disclosure of the Tr'en fifty-eight teeth, mostly\n pointed. Korvin stared back impassively. \"I have been ordered to come\n to you,\" Didyak said, \"by the Ruler. The Ruler wishes to talk with\n you.\"\n\n\n It wasn't quite \"talk\"; that was a general word in the Tr'en language,\n and Didyak had used a specific meaning, roughly: \"gain information\n from, by peaceful and vocal means.\" Korvin filed it away for future\n reference. \"Why did the Ruler not come to me?\" Korvin asked.\n\n\n \"The Ruler is the Ruler,\" Didyak said, slightly discomfited. \"You are\n to go to him. Such is his command.\"\n\n\n Korvin shrugged, sighed and smoothed back his hair. \"I obey the\n command of the Ruler,\" he said—another ritual. Everybody obeyed the\n command of the Ruler. If you didn't, you never had a second chance to\n try.\n\n\n But Korvin meant exactly what he'd said. He was going to obey the\n commands of the Ruler of the Tr'en—and remove the Tr'en threat from\n the rest of the galaxy forever.\n\n\n That, after all, was his job.\nThe Room of the Ruler was large, square and excessively brown. The\n walls were dark-brown, the furnishings—a single great chair, several\n kneeling-benches and a small table near the chair—were light-brown,\n of some metallic substance, and even the drapes were tan. It was,\n Korvin decided, much too much of a bad idea, even when the color\n contrast of the Tr'en themselves were figured in.\n\n\n The Ruler himself, a Tr'en over seven feet tall and correspondingly\n broad, sat in the great chair, his four fingers tapping gently on the\n table near him, staring at Korvin and his guards. The guards stood on\n either side of their captive, looking as impassive as jade statues,\n six and a half feet high.\n\n\n Korvin wasn't attempting to escape. He wasn't pleading with the Ruler.\n He wasn't defying the Ruler, either. He was just answering questions.\n\n\n The Tr'en liked to have everything clear. They were a logical race.\n The Ruler had started with Korvin's race, his name, his sex—if\n any—and whether or not his appearance were normal for humanity.\n\n\n Korvin was answering the last question. \"Some men are larger than I\n am,\" he said, \"and some are smaller.\"\n\n\n \"Within what limits?\"\n\n\n Korvin shrugged. \"Some are over eight feet tall,\" he said, \"and others\n under four feet.\" He used the Tr'en measurement scale, of course; it\n didn't seem necessary, though, to mention that both extremes of height\n were at the circus-freak level. \"Then there is a group of humans,\" he\n went on, \"who are never more than a foot and a half in height, and\n usually less than that—approximately nine or ten inches. We call\n these\nchildren\n,\" he volunteered helpfully.\n\n\n \"Approximately?\" the Ruler growled. \"We ask for precision here,\" he\n said. \"We are scientific men. We are exact.\"\n\n\n Korvin nodded hurriedly. \"Our race is more ... more approximate,\" he\n said apologetically.\n\n\n \"Slipshod,\" the Ruler muttered.\n\n\n \"Undoubtedly,\" Korvin agreed politely. \"I'll try to do the best I can\n for you.\"\n\n\n \"You will answer my questions,\" the Ruler said, \"with exactitude.\" He\n paused, frowning slightly. \"You landed your ship on this planet,\" he\n went on. \"Why?\"\n\n\n \"My job required it,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"A clumsy lie,\" the Ruler said. \"The ship crashed; our examinations\n prove that beyond any doubt.\"\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"And it is your job to crash your ship?\" the Ruler said. \"Wasteful.\"\n\n\n Korvin shrugged again. \"What I say is true,\" he announced. \"Do you\n have tests for such matters?\"\n\n\n \"We do,\" the Ruler told him. \"We are an exact and a scientific race. A\n machine for the testing of truth has been adjusted to your physiology.\n It will be attached to you.\"\n\n\n Korvin looked around and saw it coming through the door, pushed by two\n technicians. It was large and squat and metallic, and it had wheels,\n dials, blinking lights, tubes and wires, and a seat with armrests and\n straps. It was obviously a form of lie-detector—and Korvin felt\n himself marveling again at this race. Earth science had nothing to\n match their enormous command of the physical universe; adapting a\n hypnopædic language-course to an alien being so quickly had been\n wonder enough, but adapting the perilously delicate mechanisms that\n necessarily made up any lie-detector machinery was almost a miracle.\n The Tr'en, under other circumstances, would have been a valuable\n addition to the Comity of Nations.\n\n\n Being what they were, though, they could only be a menace. And\n Korvin's appreciation of the size of that menace was growing hourly.\n\n\n He hoped the lie-detector had been adjusted correctly. If it showed\n him telling an untruth, he wasn't likely to live long, and his\n job—not to mention the strongest personal inclinations—demanded most\n strongly that he stay alive.\n\n\n He swallowed hard. But when the technicians forced him down into the\n seat, buckled straps around him, attached wires and electrodes and\n elastic bands to him at appropriate places and tightened some final\n screws, he made no resistance.\n\n\n \"We shall test the machine,\" the Ruler said. \"In what room are you?\"\n\n\n \"In the Room of the Ruler,\" Korvin said equably.\n\n\n \"Are you standing or sitting?\"\n\n\n \"I am sitting,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"Are you a\nchulad\n?\" the Ruler asked. A\nchulad\nwas a small native\n pet, Korvin knew, something like a greatly magnified deathwatch\n beetle.\n\n\n \"I am not,\" he said.\nThe Ruler looked to his technicians for a signal, and nodded on\n receiving it. \"You will tell an untruth now,\" he said. \"Are you\n standing or sitting?\"\n\n\n \"I am standing,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The technicians gave another signal. The Ruler looked, in his frowning\n manner, reasonably satisfied. \"The machine,\" he announced, \"has been\n adjusted satisfactorily to your physiology. The questioning will now\n continue.\"\n\n\n Korvin swallowed again. The test hadn't really seemed extensive enough\n to him. But, after all, the Tr'en knew their business, better than\n anyone else could know it. They had the technique and the logic and\n the training.\n\n\n He hoped they were right.\n\n\n The Ruler was frowning at him. Korvin did his best to look receptive.\n \"Why did you land your ship on this planet?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"My job required it,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The Ruler nodded. \"Your job is to crash your ship,\" he said. \"It is\n wasteful but the machines tell me it is true. Very well, then; we\n shall find out more about your job. Was the crash intentional?\"\n\n\n Korvin looked sober. \"Yes,\" he said.\n\n\n The Ruler blinked. \"Very well,\" he said. \"Was your job ended when the\n ship crashed?\" The Tr'en word, of course, wasn't\nended\n, nor did it\n mean exactly that. As nearly as Korvin could make out, it meant\n \"disposed of for all time.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" he said.\n\n\n \"What else does your job entail?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n Korvin decided to throw his first spoke into the wheel. \"Staying\n alive.\"\n\n\n The Ruler roared. \"Do not waste time with the obvious!\" he shouted.\n \"Do not try to trick us; we are a logical and scientific race! Answer\n correctly.\"\n\n\n \"I have told the truth,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"But it is not—not the truth we want,\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n Korvin shrugged. \"I replied to your question,\" he said. \"I did not\n know that there was more than one kind of truth. Surely the truth is\n the truth, just as the Ruler is the Ruler?\"\n\n\n \"I—\" The Ruler stopped himself in mid-roar. \"You try to confuse the\n Ruler,\" he said at last, in an approximation of his usual one. \"But\n the Ruler will not be confused. We have experts in matters of\n logic\"—the Tr'en word seemed to mean\nright-saying\n—\"who will advise\n the Ruler. They will be called.\"\n\n\n Korvin's guards were standing around doing nothing of importance now\n that their captor was strapped down in the lie-detector. The Ruler\n gestured and they went out the door in a hurry.\n\n\n The Ruler looked down at Korvin. \"You will find that you cannot trick\n us,\" he said. \"You will find that such fiddling\"—\nchulad-like\nKorvin\n translated—\"attempts will get you nowhere.\"\n\n\n Korvin devoutly hoped so.\nThe experts in logic arrived shortly, and in no uncertain terms Korvin\n was given to understand that logical paradox was not going to confuse\n anybody on the planet. The barber who did, or didn't, shave himself,\n the secretary of the club whose members were secretaries, Achilles and\n the tortoise, and all the other lovely paradox-models scattered around\n were so much primer material for the Tr'en. \"They can be treated\n mathematically,\" one of the experts, a small emerald-green being, told\n Korvin thinly. \"Of course, you would not understand the mathematics.\n But that is not important. You need only understand that we cannot be\n confused by such means.\"\n\n\n \"Good,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The experts blinked. \"Good?\" he said.\n\n\n \"Naturally,\" Korvin said in a friendly tone.\n\n\n The expert frowned horribly, showing all of his teeth. Korvin did his\n best not to react. \"Your plan is a failure,\" the expert said, \"and you\n call this a good thing. You can mean only that your plan is different\n from the one we are occupied with.\"\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n There was a short silence. The expert beamed. He examined the\n indicators of the lie-detector with great care. \"What is your plan?\"\n he said at last, in a conspiratorial whisper.\n\n\n \"To answer your questions, truthfully and logically,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The silence this time was even longer.\n\n\n \"The machine says that you tell the truth,\" the experts said at last,\n in a awed tone. \"Thus, you must be a traitor to your native planet.\n You must want us to conquer your planet, and have come here secretly\n to aid us.\"\n\n\n Korvin was very glad that wasn't a question. It was, after all, the\n only logical deduction.\n\n\n But it happened to be wrong.\n\"The name of your planet is Earth?\" the Ruler asked. A few minutes had\n passed; the experts were clustered around the single chair. Korvin was\n still strapped to the machine; a logical race makes use of a traitor,\n but a logical race does not trust him.\n\n\n \"Sometimes,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"It has other names?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"It has no name,\" Korvin said truthfully. The Tr'en idiom was like the\n Earthly one; and certainly a planet had no name. People attached names\n to it, that was all. It had none of its own.\n\n\n \"Yet you call it Earth?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"I do,\" Korvin said, \"for convenience.\"\n\n\n \"Do you know its location?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"Not with exactitude,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n There was a stir. \"But you can find it again,\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"I can,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"And you will tell us about it?\" the Ruler went on.\n\n\n \"I will,\" Korvin said, \"so far as I am able.\"\n\n\n \"We will wish to know about weapons,\" the Ruler said, \"and about plans\n and fortifications. But we must first know of the manner of decision\n on this planet. Is your planet joined with others in a government or\n does it exist alone?\"\n\n\n Korvin nearly smiled. \"Both,\" he said.\n\n\n A short silence was broken by one of the attendant experts. \"We have\n theorized that an underling may be permitted to make some of his own\n decisions, leaving only the more extensive ones for the master. This\n seems to us inefficient and liable to error, yet it is a possible\n system. Is it the system you mean?\"\n\n\n Very sharp, Korvin told himself grimly. \"It is,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Then the government which reigns over several planets is supreme,\"\n the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"It is,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"Who is it that governs?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n The key question had, at last, been asked. Korvin felt grateful that\n the logical Tr'en had determined to begin from the beginning, instead\n of going off after details of armament first; it saved a lot of time.\n\n\n \"The answer to that question,\" Korvin said, \"cannot be given to you.\"\n\n\n \"Any question of fact has an answer,\" the Ruler snapped. \"A paradox is\n not involved here; a government exists, and some being is the\n governor. Perhaps several beings share this task; perhaps machines do\n the work. But where there is a government, there is a governor. Is\n this agreed?\"\n\n\n \"Certainly,\" Korvin said. \"It is completely obvious and true.\"\n\n\n \"The planet from which you come is part of a system of planets which\n are governed, you have said,\" the Ruler went on.\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"Then there is a governor for this system,\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said again.\n\n\n The ruler sighed gently. \"Explain this governor to us,\" he said.\n\n\n Korvin shrugged. \"The explanation cannot be given to you.\"\n\n\n The Ruler turned to a group of his experts and a short muttered\n conversation took place. At its end the Ruler turned his gaze back to\n Korvin. \"Is the deficiency in you?\" he said. \"Are you in some way\n unable to describe this government?\"\n\n\n \"It can be described,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"Then you will suffer unpleasant consequences if you describe it to\n us?\" the Ruler went on.\n\n\n \"I will not,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n It was the signal for another conference. With some satisfaction,\n Korvin noticed that the Tr'en were becoming slightly puzzled; they\n were no longer moving and speaking with calm assurance.\n\n\n The plan was taking hold.\n\n\n The Ruler had finished his conference. \"You are attempting again to\n confuse us,\" he said.\n\n\n Korvin shook his head earnestly. \"I am attempting,\" he said, \"not to\n confuse you.\"\n\n\n \"Then I ask for an answer,\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"I request that I be allowed to ask a question,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The Ruler hesitated, then nodded. \"Ask it,\" he said. \"We shall answer\n it if we see fit to do so.\"\n\n\n Korvin tried to look grateful. \"Well, then,\" he said, \"what is your\n government?\"\n\n\n The Ruler beckoned to a heavy-set green being, who stepped forward\n from a knot of Tr'en, inclined his head in Korvin's direction, and\n began. \"Our government is the only logical form of government,\" he\n said in a high, sweet tenor. \"The Ruler orders all, and his subjects\n obey. In this way uniformity is gained, and this uniformity aids in\n the speed of possible action and in the weight of action. All Tr'en\n act instantly in the same manner. The Ruler is adopted by the previous\n Ruler; in this way we are assured of a common wisdom and a steady\n judgment.\"\n\n\n \"You have heard our government defined,\" the Ruler said. \"Now, you\n will define yours for us.\"\n\n\n Korvin shook his head. \"If you insist,\" he said, \"I'll try it. But you\n won't understand it.\"\n\n\n The Ruler frowned. \"We shall understand,\" he said. \"Begin. Who governs\n you?\"\n\n\n \"None,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"But you are governed?\"\n\n\n Korvin nodded. \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Then there is a governor,\" the Ruler insisted.\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said. \"But everyone is the governor.\"\n\n\n \"Then there is no government,\" the Ruler said. \"There is no single\n decision.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" Korvin said equably, \"there are many decisions binding on all.\"\n\n\n \"Who makes them binding?\" the Ruler asked. \"Who forces you to accept\n these decisions? Some of them must be unfavorable to some beings?\"\n\n\n \"Many of them are unfavorable,\" Korvin said. \"But we are not forced to\n accept them.\"\n\n\n \"Do you act against your own interests?\"\n\n\n Korvin shrugged. \"Not knowingly,\" he said. The Ruler flashed a look at\n the technicians handling the lie-detector. Korvin turned to see their\n expression. They needed no words; the lie-detector was telling them,\n perfectly obviously, that he was speaking the truth. But the truth\n wasn't making any sense. \"I told you you wouldn't understand it,\" he\n said.\n\n\n \"It is a defect in your explanation,\" the Ruler almost snarled.\n\n\n \"My explanation is as exact as it can be,\" he said.\n\n\n The Ruler breathed gustily. \"Let us try something else,\" he said.\n \"Everyone is the governor. Do you share a single mind? A racial mind\n has been theorized, though we have met with no examples—\"\n\n\n \"Neither have we,\" Korvin said. \"We are all individuals, like\n yourselves.\"\n\n\n \"But with no single ruler to form policy, to make decisions—\"\n\n\n \"We have no need of one,\" Korvin said calmly.\n\n\n \"Ah,\" the Ruler said suddenly, as if he saw daylight ahead. \"And why\n not?\"\n\n\n \"We call our form of government\ndemocracy\n,\" Korvin said. \"It means\n the rule of the people. There is no need for another ruler.\"\n\n\n One of the experts piped up suddenly. \"The beings themselves rule each\n other?\" he said. \"This is clearly impossible; for, no one being can\n have the force to compel acceptance of his commands. Without his\n force, there can be no effective rule.\"\n\n\n \"That is our form of government,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"You are lying,\" the expert said.\n\n\n One of the technicians chimed in: \"The machine tells us—\"\n\n\n \"Then the machine is faulty,\" the expert said. \"It will be corrected.\"\n\n\n Korvin wondered, as the technicians argued, how long they'd take\n studying the machine, before they realized it didn't have any defects\n to correct. He hoped it wasn't going to be too long; he could foresee\n another stretch of boredom coming. And, besides, he was getting\n homesick.\n\n\n It took three days—but boredom never really had a chance to set in.\n Korvin found himself the object of more attention than he had hoped\n for; one by one, the experts came to his cell, each with a different\n method of resolving the obvious contradictions in his statements.\n\n\n Some of them went away fuming. Others simply went away, puzzled.\n\n\n On the third day Korvin escaped.\n\n\n It wasn't very difficult; he hadn't thought it would be. Even the most\n logical of thinking beings has a subconscious as well as a conscious\n mind, and one of the ways of dealing with an insoluble problem is to\n make the problem disappear. There were only two ways of doing that,\n and killing the problem's main focus was a little more complicated.\n That couldn't be done by the subconscious mind; the conscious had to\n intervene somewhere. And it couldn't.\n\n\n Because that would mean recognizing, fully and consciously, that the\n problem\nwas\ninsoluble. And the Tr'en weren't capable of that sort of\n thinking.\n\n\n Korvin thanked his lucky stars that their genius had been restricted\n to the physical and mathematical. Any insight at all into the mental\n sciences would have given them the key to his existence, and his\n entire plan, within seconds.\n\n\n But, then, it was lack of that insight that had called for this\n particular plan. That, and the political structure of the Tr'en.\n\n\n The same lack of insight let the Tr'en subconscious work on his\n escape without any annoying distractions in the way of deep\n reflection. Someone left a door unlocked and a weapon nearby—all\n quite intent, Korvin was sure. Getting to the ship was a little more\n complicated, but presented no new problems; he was airborne, and then\n space-borne, inside of a few hours after leaving the cell.\n\n\n He set his course, relaxed, and cleared his mind. He had no psionic\n talents, but the men at Earth Central did; he couldn't receive\n messages, but he could send them. He sent one now.\nMission accomplished; the Tr'en aren't about to come\n marauding out into space too soon. They've been given food\n for thought—nice indigestible food that's going to stick in\n their craws until they finally manage to digest it. But they\n can't digest it and stay what they are; you've got to be\n democratic, to some extent, to understand the idea. What\n keeps us obeying laws we ourselves make? What keeps us\n obeying laws that make things inconvenient for us? Sheer\n self-interest, of course—but try to make a Tr'en see it!\nWith one government and one language, they just weren't\n equipped for translation. They were too efficient physically\n to try for the mental sciences at all. No mental sciences,\n no insight into my mind or their own—and that means no\n translation.\nBut—damn it—I wish I were home already.\nI'm bored absolutely stiff!\nTHE END\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did the Tr'en leave Korvin's door unlocked and a weapon nearby?", "question_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40_1", "options": ["They were so caught up trying to figure out  Korvin's answers that they became somewhat careless in guarding him. ", "Their subconscious knew that Korvin was an insoluble problem. This same subconscious led them to provide resources for his escape so they wouldn't have to deal with him anymore. ", "They were tired of the Ruler's dictatorship and intentionally provided resources for Korvin's escape in hopes that he would help them overthrow the Ruler.  ", "After their interview with Korvin, they determined he was wasteful and confusing, but not a threat. In order to avoid another confusing interaction with him, they simply provided resources for his escape. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the text mean when it says that Korvin was \"unconscious\" at the time of his lessons in the local language?", "question_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40_2", "options": ["It means that the Tr'en put Korvin under drug hypnosis while they taught him their language. ", "It means that he was so bored out of his mind  during the language lessons that he was hardly conscious. ", "It means that the Tr'en came into Korvin's cell while he slept in order to use their advanced technology which quickly teaches the unconscious mind. ", "It means that the Tr'en knocked him out every night in order to use their advanced technology which quickly teaches the unconscious mind. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was Korvin able to avoid disclosing the true intent of his mission under the lie detector questioning? ", "question_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40_3", "options": ["While he was strapped down in the lie-detector, Korvin subtly switched the wire that indicated a truth with the one that indicated a lie. ", "Korvin said truths that literally answered the Tr'en's questions but evaded the intent behind their questions. .", "The Tr'en hadn't tested the lie-detector extensively enough and the machine was faulty. ", "Even with the Tr'en's language lessons, Korvin could only to speak in very simple terms and was unable to answer the Ruler's questions at the depth the Ruler was expecting."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the most likely reason for Korvin's solitude in jail?", "question_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40_4", "options": ["Solitary confinement was part of Korvin's punishment. ", "There weren't any other prisoners in the jail because virtually all of the Tr'en obey the Ruler. Those who don't obey are executed.", "The Tr'en didn't want Korvin to interact with the other Tr'en prisoners because there was a chance that together they might incite an uprising. ", "The Tr'en are so logical and mathematic that they don't see the need for social interaction. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the Tr'en's logic fail them?", "question_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40_5", "options": ["Because the lie-detector was faulty and Korvin gave them an insoluble paradox.  ", "Because it's too mathematical and doesn't account for motivations, emotions, and what's left unsaid. ", "Because Korvin switched the wires on the lie-detector and gave the Tr'en an insoluble paradox. ", "Because it's tightly controlled by the Ruler who is quite simple minded. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Are there indications that the Tr'en would be interested in attacking Earth? Why or why not?", "question_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40_6", "options": ["Both A and C are correct. ", "No, because Korvin sends a mission back to Earth Central saying that the Tr'en won't come marauding out into space. ", "Yes, because the expert mentions the idea of conquering Earth with Korvin's aid. ", "Yes, because the ruler says the he wants to know about Earth's weapons, plans, and fortifications. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0032", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "The text says \"The expert frowned horribly.\" What makes the expert's smile so horrible?", "question_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40_7", "options": ["The frown indicates that he's close to detecting Korvin's true motivations. ", "The frown indicates that he knows that Korvin switched the wires on the lie detector.  ", "The frown is a signal to the Ruler that Korvin is lying. ", "The frown is physically horrible because the Tr'en have fifty-eight, pointed teeth. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0033", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the Ruler become the Ruler?", "question_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40_8", "options": ["He was adopted by the previous Ruler. ", "He overthrew the previous Ruler. ", "He is the biological son of the previous Ruler. ", "He was elected as Ruler by the Tr'en. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the Tr'en think that Korvin was a traitor to Earth?", "question_unique_id": "30029_F5N22U40_9", "options": ["Because he answered all of the questions truthfully. ", "Because he didn't try to resist being strapped down into the lie-detector. ", "Because he crashed a ship onto Tr'en thus wasting Earth's resources. ", "Because they misinterpreted his positive responses to his \"failure\" as anti-Earth. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/0/0/2/30029//30029-h//30029-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62139", "set_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1001", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Captain Chaos", "year": 1957, "author": "Bond, Nelson S.", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Space ships -- Fiction; War stories; Cooks -- Fiction; Short stories", "article": "CAPTAIN CHAOS\nBy NELSON S. BOND\nThe Callisto-bound\nLeo\nneeded\n\n a cook. What it got was a piping-voiced\n\n Jonah who jinxed it straight into Chaos.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1942.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWe picked up our new cook on Phobos. Not Phoebus or Phoebe; I mean\n Phobos, Mars' inner moon. Our regular victual mangler came down with\n acute indigestion—tasted some of his own cooking, no doubt—when we\n were just one blast of a jet-tube out of Sand City spaceport. But since\n we were rocketing under sealed orders, we couldn't turn back.\n\n\n So we laid the\nLeo\ndown on Phobos' tiny cradle-field and bundled\n our ailing grub-hurler off to a hospital, and the skipper said to me,\n \"Mister Dugan,\" he said, \"go out and find us a cook!\"\n\n\n \"Aye, sir!\" I said, and went.\n\n\n Only it wasn't that easy. In those days, Phobos had only a handful\n of settlers, and most of them had good-paying jobs. Besides, we were\n at war with the Outer Planets, and no man in his right senses wanted\n to sign for a single-trip jump on a rickety old patrolship bound for\n nobody-knew-where. And, of course, cooks are dime-a-dozen when you\n don't need one, but when you've got to locate one in a hurry they're as\n difficult to find as petticoats in a nudist camp.\n\n\n I tried the restaurants and the employment agencies, but it was no\n dice. I tried the hotels and the tourist homes and even one or two\n of the cleaner-looking joy-joints. Again I drew a blank. So, getting\n desperate, I audioed a plaintive appeal to the wealthy Phobosian\n colonists, asking that one of the more patriotic sons-of-riches donate\n a chef's services to the good old I.P.S., but my only response was a\n loud silence.\n\n\n So I went back to the ship. I said, \"Sorry, sir. We're up against it. I\n can't seem to find a cook on the whole darned satellite.\"\n\n\n The skipper scowled at me from under a corduroy brow and fumed, \"But\n we've got to have a cook, Dugan! We can't go on without one!\"\n\n\n \"In a pinch,\" I told him, \"\nI\nmight be able to boil a few pies, or\n scramble us a steak or something, Skipper.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks, Dugan, but that won't do. On this trip the men must be fed\n regularly and well. Makeshift meals are O.Q. on an ordinary run, but\n when you're running the blockade—\"\n\n\n He stopped abruptly. But too late; I had caught his slip of the tongue.\n I stared at him. I said, \"The blockade, sir? Then you've read our\n orders?\"\n\n\n The Old Man nodded soberly.\n\n\n \"Yes. You might as well know, Lieutenant. Everyone will be told as soon\n as the\nLeo\nlifts gravs again. My orders were to be opened four hours\n after leaving Sand City. I read them a few minutes ago.\n\n\n \"We are to attempt to run the Outer Planets Alliance blockade at any\n spot which reconnaisance determines as favorable. Our objective is\n Jupiter's fourth satellite, Callisto. The Solar Federation Intelligence\n Department has learned of a loyalist uprising on that moon. It is\n reported that Callisto is weary of the war, with a little prompting\n will secede from the Alliance and return to the Federation.\n\n\n \"If this is true, it means we have at last found the foothold we have\n been seeking; a salient within easy striking distance of Jupiter,\n capital of the Alliance government. Our task is to verify the rumor\n and, if it be true, make a treaty with the Callistans.\"\n\n\n I said, \"Sweet howling stars—some assignment, sir! A chance to end\n this terrible war ... form a permanent union of the entire Solar\n family ... bring about a new age of prosperity and happiness.\"\n\n\n \"If,\" Cap O'Hara reminded me, \"we succeed. But it's a tough job. We\n can't expect to win through the enemy cordon unless our men are in top\n physical condition. And that means a sound, regular diet. So we must\n find a cook, or—\"\n\n\n \"The search,\" interrupted an oddly high-pitched, but not unpleasant\n voice, \"is over. Where's the galley?\"\nI whirled, and so did the Old Man. Facing us was an outlandish little\n figure; a slim, trim, natty little Earthman not more than five-foot-two\n in height; a smooth-cheeked young fellow swaddled in a spaceman's\n uniform at least three sizes too large. Into the holster of his harness\n was thrust a Haemholtz ray-pistol big enough to burn an army, and in\n his right hand he brandished a huge, gleaming carving-knife. He frowned\n at us impatiently.\n\n\n \"Well,\" he repeated impatiently, \"where is it?\"\n\n\n The Old Man stared.\n\n\n \"W-who,\" he demanded dazedly, \"might you be?\"\n\n\n \"I might be,\" retorted the little stranger, \"lots of people. But I came\n here to be your new cook.\"\n\n\n O'Hara said, \"The new—What's your name, mister?\"\n\n\n \"Andy,\" replied the newcomer. \"Andy Laney.\"\n\n\n The Old Man's lip curled speculatively. \"Well, Andy Laney,\" he said,\n \"you don't look like much of a cook to\nme\n.\"\n\n\n But the little mugg just returned the Old Man's gaze coolly. \"Which\n makes it even,\" he retorted. \"\nYou\ndon't look like much of a skipper\n to\nme\n. Do I get the job, or don't I?\"\n\n\n The captain's grin faded, and his jowls turned pink. I stepped forward\n hastily. I said, \"Excuse me, sir, shall I handle this?\" Then, because\n the skipper was still struggling for words: \"You,\" I said to the little\n fellow, \"are a cook?\"\n\n\n \"One of the best!\" he claimed complacently.\n\n\n \"You're willing to sign for a blind journey?\"\n\n\n \"Would I be here,\" he countered, \"if I weren't?\"\n\n\n \"And you have your space certificate?\"\n\n\n \"I—\" began the youngster.\n\n\n \"Smart Aleck!\" That was the Old Man, exploding into coherence at last.\n \"Rat-tailed, clever-cracking little smart Aleck! Don't look like much\n of a skipper, eh? Well, my fine young rooster—\"\n\n\n I said quickly, \"If you don't mind, sir, this is no time to worry over\n trifles. 'Any port in a storm,' you know. And if this young man\ncan\ncook—\"\n\n\n The skipper's color subsided. So did he, grumbling. \"Well, perhaps\n you're right, Dugan. All right, Slops, you're hired. The galley's\n on the second level, port side. Mess in three quarters of an\n hour. Get going! Dugan, call McMurtrie and tell him we lift gravs\n immediately—\nSlops!\nWhat are you doing at that table?\"\n\n\n For the little fellow had sidled across the control-room and now, eyes\n gleaming inquisitively, was peering at our trajectory charts. At the\n skipper's roar he glanced up at us eagerly.\n\n\n \"Vesta!\" he piped in that curiously high-pitched and mellow voice.\n \"Loft trajectory for Vesta! Then we're trying to run the Alliance\n blockade, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"None of your business!\" bellowed O'Hara in tones of thunderous\n outrage. \"Get below instantly, or by the lavendar lakes of Luna I'll—\"\n\n\n \"If I were you,\" interrupted our diminutive new chef thoughtfully, \"I'd\n try to broach the blockade off Iris rather than Vesta. For one thing,\n their patrol line will be thinner there; for another, you can come in\n through the Meteor Bog, using it as a cover.\"\n\n\n \"\nMr. Dugan!\n\"\n\n\n The Old Man's voice had an ominous ring to it, one I had seldom heard.\n I sprang to attention and saluted smartly. \"Aye, sir?\"\n\n\n \"Take this—this culinary tactician out of my sight before I forget I'm\n an officer and a gentleman. And tell him that when I want advice I'll\n come down to the galley for it!\"\n\n\n A hurt look crept into the youngster's eyes. Slowly he turned and\n followed me from the turret, down the ramp, and into the pan-lined\n cubicle which was his proper headquarters. When I was turning to leave\n he said apologetically, \"I didn't mean any harm, Mr. Dugan. I was just\n trying to help.\"\n\n\n \"You must learn not to speak out of turn, youngster,\" I told him\n sternly. \"The Old Man's one of the smartest space navigators who ever\n lifted gravs. He doesn't need the advice or suggestions of a cook.\"\n\n\n \"But I was raised in the Belt,\" said the little chap plaintively. \"I\n know the Bog like a book. And I was right; our safest course\nis\nby\n way of Iris.\"\n\n\n Well, there you are! You try to be nice to someone, and what happens?\n He tees off on you. I got a little sore I guess. Anyhow, I told the\n little squirt off, but definitely.\n\n\n \"Now, listen!\" I said bluntly. \"You volunteered for the job. Now\n you've got to take what comes with it: orders! From now on, suppose\n you take care of the cooking and let the rest of us worry about the\n ship—Captain Slops!\"\n\n\n And I left, banging the door behind me hard.\nSo we hit the spaceways for Vesta, and after a while the Old Man called\n up the crew and told them our destination, and if you think they were\n scared or nervous or anything like that, why, you just don't know\n spacemen. From oil-soaked old Jock McMurtrie, the Chief Engineer, all\n the way down the line to Willy, our cabin-boy, the\nLeo's\ncomplement\n was as thrilled as a sub-deb at an Academy hop.\n\n\n John Wainwright, our First Officer, licked his chops like a fox in a\n hen-house and said, \"The blockade! Oboyoboy! Maybe we'll tangle with\n one of the Alliance ships, hey?\"\n\n\n Blinky Todd, an ordinary with highest rating, said with a sort of\n macabre satisfaction, \"I hopes we\ndo\nmeet up with 'em, that's whut I\n does, sir! Never did have no love for them dirty, skulkin' Outlanders,\n that's whut I didn't!\"\n\n\n And one of the black-gang blasters, a taciturn chap, said nothing—but\n the grim set of his jaw and the purposeful way he spat on his callused\n paws were mutely eloquent.\n\n\n Only one member of the crew was absent from the conclave. Our new\n Slops. He was busy preparing midday mess, it seems, because scarcely\n had the skipper finished talking than the audio hummed and a cheerful\n call rose from the galley:\n\n\n \"Soup's on! Come and get it!\"\n\n\n Which we did. And whatever failings \"Captain Slops\" might have, he\n had not exaggerated when he called himself one of the best cooks in\n space. That meal, children, was a meal! When it comes to victuals\n I can destroy better than describe, but there was stuff and things\n and such-like, all smothered in gravy and so on, and huge quantities\n of this and that and the other thing, all of them unbelievably\n dee-luscious!\n\n\n Beyond a doubt it was the finest feast we of the\nLeo\nhad enjoyed in\n a 'coon's age. Even the Old Man admitted that as, leaning back from\n the table, he patted the pleasant bulge due south of his belt buckle.\n He rang the bell that summoned Slops from the galley, and the little\n fellow came bustling in apprehensively.\n\n\n \"Was everything all right, sir?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Not only all right, Slops,\" wheezed Captain O'Hara, \"but perfect!\n Accept my congratulations on a superb meal, my boy. Did you find\n everything O.Q. in the galley?\"\n\n\n \"Captain Slops\" blushed like a stereo-struck school-gal, and fidgeted\n from one foot to another.\n\n\n \"Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you very much. Yes, the galley was in fine\n order. That is—\" He hesitated—\"there is one little thing, sir.\"\n\n\n \"So? Well, speak up, son, what is it? I'll get it fixed for you right\n away.\" The Old Man smiled archly. \"Must have everything shipshape for a\n tip-top chef, what?\"\n\n\n The young hash-slinger still hesitated bashfully.\n\n\n \"But it's such a\nlittle\nthing, sir, I almost hate to bother you with\n it.\"\n\n\n \"No trouble at all. Just say the word.\"\n\n\n \"Well, sir,\" confessed Slops reluctantly, \"I need an incinerator in\n the galley. The garbage-disposal system in there now is old-fashioned,\n inconvenient and unsanitary. You see, I have to carry the waste down\n two levels to the rocket-chamber in order to expel it.\"\n\n\n The skipper's brow creased.\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Slops,\" he said, \"but I don't see how we can do anything\n about that. Not just now, at any rate. That job requires equipment we\n don't have aboard. After this jump is over I'll see what I can do.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, I realize we don't have the regular equipment,\" said Slops shyly,\n \"but I've figured out a way to get the same effect with equipment we\n do have. There's an old Nolan heat-cannon rusting in the storeroom.\n If that could be installed by the galley vent, I could use it as an\n incinerator.\"\n\n\n I said, \"Hold everything, Slops! You can't do that! It's against\n regulations. Code 44, Section xvi, says, 'Fixed armament shall be\n placed only in gunnery embrasures insulated against the repercussions\n of firing charges, re-radiation, or other hazards accruent to heavy\n ordnance.'\"\n\n\n Our little chef's face fell. \"Now, that's too bad,\" he said\n discouragedly. \"I was planning a special banquet for tomorrow, with\n roast marsh-duck and all the fixings, pinberry pie—but, oh, well!—if\n I have no incinerator—\"\n\n\n The skipper's eyes bulged, and he drooled like a pup at a barbeque.\n He was a bit of a sybarite, was Captain David O'Hara; if there was\n anything he dearly loved to exercise his molars on it was Venusian\n marsh-duck topped with a dessert of Martian pinberry pie. He said:\n\n\n \"We-e-ell, now, Mr. Dugan, let's not be too technical. After all, that\n rule was put in the book only to prevent persons which shouldn't ought\n to do so from having control of ordnance. But that isn't what Slops\n wants the cannon for, is it, son? So I don't see any harm in rigging\n up the old Nolan in the galley for incineration purposes. Did you say\nall\nthe fixings, Slops?\"\n\n\n Maybe I was mistaken, but for a moment I suspected I caught a queer\n glint in our little chef's eyes; it might have been gratitude, or, on\n the other hand, it might have been self-satisfaction. Whatever it was\n it passed quickly, and Captain Slops' soft voice was smooth as silk\n when he said:\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain, all the fixings. I'll start cooking the meal as soon as\n the new incinerator is installed.\"\nSo that was that. During the night watch two men of the crew lugged\n the ancient Nolan heat cannon from stores and I went below to check. I\n found young Slops bent over the old cannon, giving it a strenuous and\n thorough cleaning. The way he was oiling and scrubbing at that antique\n reminded me of an apprentice gunner coddling his first charge.\n\n\n I must have startled him, entering unexpectedly as I did, for when I\n said, \"Hi, there!\" he jumped two feet and let loose a sissy little\n piping squeal. Then, crimson-faced with embarrassment, he said, \"Oh,\n h-hello, Lieutenant. I was just getting my new incinerator shipshape.\n Looks O.Q., eh?\"\n\n\n \"If you ask me,\" I said, \"it looks downright lethal. The Old Man must\n be off his gravs to let a young chuckle-head like you handle that toy.\"\n\n\n \"But I'm only going to use it,\" he said plaintively, \"to dispose of\n garbage.\"\n\n\n \"Well, don't dump your cans when there are any ships within range,\" I\n warned him glumly, \"or there'll be a mess of human scraps littering up\n the void. That gun may be a museum piece, but it still packs a wallop.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" said Slops meekly. \"I'll be careful how I use it, sir.\"\n\n\n I had finished my inspection, and I sniggered as his words reminded me\n of a joke I'd heard at a spacemans' smoker.\n\n\n \"Speaking of being careful, did you hear the giggler about the old maid\n at the Martian baths? Well, it seems this perennial spinster wandered,\n by accident, into the men's shower room and met up with a brawny young\n prospector—\"\n\n\n Captain Slops said, \"Er—excuse me, Lieutenant, but I have to get this\n marsh-duck stuffed.\"\n\n\n \"Plenty of time, Slops. Wait till you hear this; it will kill you. The\n old maid got flustered and said, 'Oh, I'm sorry! I must be in the wrong\n compartment—'\"\n\n\n \"If you don't mind, Mr. Dugan,\" interrupted the cook loudly, \"I'm\n awfully busy. I don't have any time for—\"\n\n\n \"The prospector looked her over carefully for a couple of seconds; then\n answered, 'That's O.Q. by me, sister. I won't—'\"\n\n\n \"I—I've got to go now, Lieutenant,\" shouted Slops. \"Just remembered\n something I've got to get from stores.\" And without even waiting to\n hear the wallop at the end of my tale he fled from the galley, very\n pink and flustered.\n\n\n So there was one for the log-book! Not only did our emergency chef lack\n a sense of humor, but the little punk was bashful, as well! Still, it\n was no skin off my nose if Slops wanted to miss the funniest yarn of a\n decade. I shrugged and went back to the control turret.\nAll that, to make an elongated story brief, happened on the first day\n out of Mars. As any schoolchild knows, it's a full hundred million from\n the desert planet to the asteroid belt. In those days, there was no\n such device as a Velocity-Intensifier unit, and the\nLeo\n, even though\n she was then considered a reasonably fast little patroller, muddled\n along at a mere 400,000 m.p.h. Which meant it would take us at least\n ten days, perhaps more, to reach that disputed region of space around\n Vesta, where the Federation outposts were sparse and the Alliance block\n began.\n\n\n That period of jetting was a mingled joy and pain in the britches.\n Captain Slops was responsible for both.\n\n\n For one thing, as I've hinted before, he was a bit of a panty-waist.\n It wasn't so much the squeaky voice or the effeminate gestures he cut\n loose with from time to time. One of the roughest, toughest scoundrels\n who ever cut a throat on Venus was \"High G\" Gordon, who talked like a\n boy soprano, and the meanest pirate who ever highjacked a freighter was\n \"Runt\" Hake—who wore diamond ear-rings and gold fingernail polish!\n\n\n But it was Slops' general attitude that isolated him from the command\n and crew. In addition to being a most awful prude, he was a kill-joy.\n When just for a lark we begged him to boil us a pot of spaghetti, so we\n could pour a cold worm's nest into Rick Bramble's bed, he shuddered and\n refused.\n\n\n \"Certainly not!\" he piped indignantly. \"You must be out of your minds!\n I never heard of such a disgusting trick! Of course, I won't be a party\n to it. Worms—Ugh!\"\n\n\n \"Yeah!\" snorted Johnny Wainwright disdainfully, \"And\nugh!\nto you,\n too. Come on, Joe, let's get out of here before we give Slops bad\n dreams and goose-flesh!\"\n\n\n Nor was hypersensitiveness Slops' worst failing. If he was squeamish\n about off-color jokes and such stuff, he had no compunctions whatsoever\n against sticking his nose in where it didn't belong.\n\n\n He was an inveterate prowler. He snooped everywhere and anywhere from\n ballast-bins to bunk-rooms. He quizzed the Chief about engine-room\n practices, the gunner's mate on problems of ballistics, even the\n cabin-boy on matters of supplies and distribution of same. He was not\n only an asker; he was a teller, as well. More than once during the next\n nine days he forced on the skipper the same gratuitous advice which\n before had enraged the Old Man. By sheer perseverance he earned the\n title I had tagged him with: \"Captain Slops.\"\n\n\n I was willing to give him another title, too—Captain Chaos. God knows\n he created enough of it!\n\n\n \"It's a mistake to broach the blockade at Vesta,\" he argued over and\n over again.\n\n\n \"O.Q., Slops,\" the skipper would nod agreeably, with his mouth full\n of some temper-softening tidbit, \"you're right and I'm wrong, as you\n usually are. But I'm in command of the\nLeo\n, and you ain't. Now, run\n along like a good lad and bring me some more of this salad.\"\n\n\n So ten days passed, and it was on the morning of the eleventh day out\n of Sand City that we ran into trouble with a capital trub. I remember\n that morning well, because I was in the mess-hall having breakfast with\n Cap O'Hara, and Slops was playing another variation on the old familiar\n theme.\n\n\n \"I glanced at the chart this morning, sir,\" he began as he minced in\n with a platterful of golden flapjacks and an ewer of Vermont maple\n syrup, \"and I see we are but an hour or two off Vesta. I am very much\n afraid this is our last chance to change course—\"\n\n\n \"And for that,\" chuckled the Old Man, \"Hooray! Pass them pancakes, son.\n Maybe now you'll stop shooting off about how we ought to of gone by way\n of Iris. Mmmm! Good!\"\n\n\n \"Thank you, sir,\" said Slops mechanically. \"But you realize there is\n extreme danger of encountering enemy ships?\"\n\n\n \"Keep your pants on, Slops!\"\n\n\n \"Eh?\" The chef looked startled. \"Beg pardon, sir?\"\n\n\n \"I said keep your pants on. Sure, I know. And I've took precautions.\n There's a double watch on duty, and men at every gun. If we do meet up\n with an Alliance craft, it'll be just too bad for them!\n\n\n \"Yes, sirree!\" The Old Man grinned comfortably. \"I almost hope we\n do bump into one. After we burn it out of the void we'll have clear\n sailing all the way to Callisto.\"\n\n\n \"But—but if there should be more than one, sir?\"\n\n\n \"Don't be ridiculous, my boy. Why should there be?\"\n\n\n \"Well, for one thing,\" wrangled our pint-sized cook, \"because rich\n ekalastron deposits were recently discovered on Vesta. For another,\n because Vesta's orbit is now going into aphelion stage, which will\n favor a concentration of raiders.\"\n\n\n The skipper choked, spluttered, and disgorged a bite of half-masticated\n pancake.\n\n\n \"Eka—Great balls of fire! Are you sure?\"\n\n\n \"Of course, I'm sure. I told you days ago that I was born and raised in\n the Belt, Captain.\"\n\n\n \"I know. But why didn't you tell me about Vesta before? I mean about\n the ekalastron deposits?\"\n\n\n \"Why—why, because—\" said Slops. \"Because—\"\n\n\n \"Don't give me lady-logic, you dope!\" roared the Old Man, an enraged\n lion now, his breakfast completely forgotten. \"Give me a sensible\n answer! If you'd told me\nthat\ninstead of just yipping and yapping\n about how via Iris was a nicer route I'd have listened to you! As it\n is, we're blasting smack-dab into the face of danger. And us on the\n most vital mission of the whole ding-busted war!\"\n\n\n He was out of his seat, bustling to the audio, buzzing Lieutenant\n Wainwright on the bridge.\n\n\n \"Johnny—that you? Listen, change traj quick! Set a new course through\n the Belt by way of Iris and the Bog, and hurry up, because—\"\n\n\n What reason he planned to give I do not know, for he never finished\n that sentence. At that moment the\nLeo\nrattled like a Model AA\n spacesled in an ionic storm, rolled, quivered and slewed like a drunk\n on a freshly-waxed floor. The motion needed no explanation; it was\n unmistakeable to any spacer who has ever hopped the blue. Our ship had\n been gripped, and was now securely locked, in the clutch of a tractor\n beam!\nWhat happened next was everything at once. Officers Wainwright and\n Bramble were in the turret, and they were both good sailors. They knew\n their duties and how to perform them. An instant after the\nLeo\nhad\n been assaulted, the ship bucked and slithered again, this time with the\n repercussions of our own ordnance. Over the audio, which Sparks had\n hastily converted into an all-way, inter-ship communicating unit, came\n a jumble of voices. A call for Captain O'Hara to \"Come to the bridge,\n sir!\" ... the harsh query of Chief McMurtrie, \"Tractor beams on stern\n and prow, sir. Shall I attempt to break them?\" ... and a thunderous\ngroooom!\nfrom the fore-gunnery port as a crew went into action ... a\n plaintive little shriek from somebody ... maybe from Slops himself....\n\n\n Then on an ultra-wave carrier, drowning local noises beneath waves of\n sheer volume, came English words spoken with a foreign intonation. The\n voice of the Alliance commander.\n\n\n \"Ahoy the\nLeo\n! Calling the captain of the\nLeo\n!\"\n\n\n O'Hara, his great fists knotted at his sides, called back, \"O'Hara of\n the\nLeo\nanswering. What do you want?\"\n\n\n \"Stand by to admit a boarding party, Captain. It is futile to resist.\n You are surrounded by six armed craft, and your vessel is locked in\n our tensiles. Any further effort to make combat will bring about your\n immediate destruction!\"\n\n\n From the bridge, topside, snarled Johnny Wainwright, \"The hell with\n 'em, Skipper! Let's fight it out!\" And elsewhere on the\nLeo\nangry\n voices echoed the same defi. Never in my life had I felt such a\n heart-warming love for and pride in my companions as at that tense\n moment. But the Old Man shook his head, and his eyes were glistening.\n\n\n \"It's no use,\" he moaned strickenly, more to himself than to me. \"I\n can't sacrifice brave men in a useless cause, Dugan. I've got to—\" He\n faced the audio squarely. To the enemy commander he said, \"Very good,\n sir! In accordance with the Rules of War, I surrender into your hands!\"\n\n\n The firing ceased, and a stillness like that of death blanketed the\nLeo\n.\n\n\n It was then that Andy Laney, who had lingered in the galley doorway\n like a frozen figuring, broke into babbling incredulous speech.\n\n\n \"You—you're giving up like this?\" he bleated. \"Is this all you're\n going to do?\"\n\n\n The Old Man just looked at him, saying never a word, but that glance\n would have blistered the hide off a Mercurian steelback. I'm more\n impetuous. I turned on the little idiot vituperatively.\n\n\n \"Shut up, you fool! Don't you realize there's not a thing we can do but\n surrender? Dead, we're of no earthly use to anyone. Alive, there is\n always a chance one of us may get away, bring help. We have a mission\n to fulfil, an important one. Corpses can't run errands.\"\n\n\n \"But—but if they take us prisoners,\" he questioned fearfully, \"what\n will they do with us?\"\n\n\n \"A concentration camp somewhere. Perhaps on Vesta.\"\n\n\n \"And the\nLeo\n?\"\n\n\n \"Who knows? Maybe they'll send it to Jupiter with a prize crew in\n command.\"\n\n\n \"That's what I thought. But they mustn't be allowed to do that. We're\n marked with the Federation tricolor!\"\n\n\n A sharp retort trembled on the tip of my tongue, but I never uttered\n it. Indeed, I swallowed it as comprehension dawned. There came to me\n the beginnings of respect for little Andy Laney's wisdom. He had been\n right about the danger of the Vesta route, as we had learned to our\n cost; now he was right on this other score.\n\n\n The skipper got it, too. His jaw dropped. He said, \"Heaven help us,\n it's the truth! To reach Jupiter you've got to pass Callisto. If the\n Callistans saw a Federation vessel, they'd send out an emissary to\n greet it. Our secret would be discovered, Callisto occupied by the\n enemy....\"\n\n\n I think he would have turned, then, and given orders to continue the\n fight even though it meant suicide for all of us. But it was too late.\n Already our lock had opened to the attackers; down the metal ramp we\n now heard the crisp cadence of invading footsteps. The door swung open,\n and the Alliance commandant stood smiling triumphantly before us.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the most likely meaning of the slang O.Q.? (in twentieth-century American English)", "question_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6_1", "options": ["cool", "no worries", "my bad", "O.K./OK"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the Skipper stop abruptly after he says \"when you're running a blockade\"?", "question_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6_2", "options": ["Because he realizes he's triggering trauma for Lieutenant Dugan. ", "Because he realizes he's insulting Lieutenant Dugan. ", "Because he realizes that he's repeating himself. ", "Because he realizes he's sharing news that he he hadn't meant to disclose so soon. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who or what is Leo?", "question_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6_3", "options": ["The name of the planet the crew is attacking", "The name of the crew's ship", "The Skipper", "The new cook"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the Skipper allow the new chef to use the heat-cannon as an incinerator?", "question_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6_4", "options": ["Because the new chef just cooked a fine meal and Skipper can't bear to see him so discouraged. ", "Because Skipper figures it's a way to thank the new chef for coming on board so last minute. ", "Because Skipper thinks it'll get the new chef to stop offering up unsolicited tactical advice. ", "Because Skipper wants the new chef to cook marsh-duck and all the fixings. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": " Lieutenant Dugan brings up the examples of \"High G\" Gordon and \"Runt\" Hake in order to illustrates that...", "question_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6_5", "options": ["the roughest, toughest scoundrels and pirates were self-made", "effeminate behavior and taste is not incompatible with roughness and toughness", "effeminate behavior and taste is incompatible with roughness and toughness ", "the roughest, toughest scoundrels and pirates were from Venus"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why didn't the Skipper follow the new cook's advice about avoiding Vesta?", "question_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6_6", "options": ["Because Lieutenant Dugan convinced Skipper not to follow the new cook's advice. ", "Because the Skipper considered himself smarter and more experienced than the new cook. ", "Because the new cook didn't bring up any reasons to support his advice. ", "Because the new cook asked for a heat-cannon which made the Skipper suspicious of the new cook's intentions. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was the new cook so upset that the Skipper decided to surrender?", "question_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6_7", "options": ["He realized that if they surrendered they would be sent to concentration camps and he would no longer be able to continue cooking. ", "He realized that Skipper was more devoted to his own survival than to the Federation. ", "He spent his whole life in the Belt and he wanted to experience his first space fight. ", "He realized by surrendering, the Alliance could use their ship to sneak into Federation territory unnoticed. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the Skipper mean by \"lady-logic\"?", "question_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6_8", "options": ["Weak logic", "Sly logic", "Condescending logic", "Intelligent logic"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What would've happened if the new cook had told the Skipper about the ekalastron deposits earlier?", "question_unique_id": "62139_J05FWZR6_9", "options": ["The text doesn't indicate how the Skipper would've acted in a different scenario. ", "The Skipper still would've ignored the new cook's advice. ", "The Skipper would have mulled over the information for a few days before deciding to switch their course from Vesta to Iris. ", "The Skipper's would have set course for Iris from the beginning. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/1/3/62139//62139-h//62139-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63523", "set_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1001", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Coming of the Gods", "year": 1960, "author": "Whitehorn, Chester", "topic": "Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; PS; Martians -- Fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Adventure stories; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "COMING OF THE GODS\nBy CHESTER WHITEHORN\nNever had Mars seen such men as these, for they\n\n came from black space, carrying weird weapons—to\n\n fight for a race of which they had never heard.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1945.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nRo moved cautiously. He knew the jungles of Mars well, knew the\n dangers, the swift death that could come to an unwary traveler. Many\n times he had seen fellow Martians die by the razor fangs of Gin, the\n swamp snake. Their clear red skin had become blotched and purple, their\n eyeballs popped, their faces swollen by the poison that raced through\n their veins. And Ro had seen the bones of luckless men vomited from the\n mouths of the Droo, the cannibal plants. And others there had been,\n some friends of his, who had become game for beasts of prey, or been\n swallowed by hungry, sucking pools of quicksand. No, the jungles of\n Mars were not to be taken casually, no matter how light in heart one\n was at the prospect of seeing home once more.\n\n\n Ro was returning from the north. He had seen the great villages of\n thatched huts, the strange people who lived in these huts instead of\n in caves, and wore coverings on their feet and shining rings in their\n ears. And having quenched his curiosity about these people and their\n villages, he was satisfied to travel home again.\n\n\n He was a man of the world now, weary of exploring and ready to settle\n down. He was anxious to see his family again, his father and mother\n and all his brothers and sisters; to sit round a fire with them at the\n entrance to their cave and tell of the wondrous places he'd visited.\n And, most of all, he wanted to see Na, graceful, dark eyed Na, whose\n fair face had disturbed his slumber so often, appearing in his dreams\n to call him home.\n\n\n He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the jungle's edge. Before\n him lay a broad expanse of plain. And far in the distance rose the\n great cliffs and the hills that were his home.\n\n\n His handsome face broadened into a smile and he quickened his pace to a\n trot. There was no need for caution now. The dangers on the plain were\n few.\n\n\n The sun beat down on his bare head and back. His red skin glistened.\n His thick black hair shone healthily.\n\n\n Mile after mile fell behind him. His long, well muscled legs carried\n him swiftly toward the distant hills. His movements were graceful,\n easy, as the loping of Shee, the great cat.\n\n\n Then, suddenly, he faltered in his stride. He stopped running and,\n shielding his eyes from the sun's glare, stared ahead. There was a\n figure running toward him. And behind that first figure, a second gave\n chase.\n\n\n For a long moment Ro studied the approaching creatures. Then he gasped\n in surprise. The pursued was a young woman, a woman he knew. Na! The\n pursuer was a squat, ugly rat man, one of the vicious Oan who lived in\n the cliffs.\n\n\n Ro exclaimed his surprise, then his rage. His handsome face was grim as\n he searched the ground with his eyes. When he found what he sought—a\n round rock that would fit his palm—he stooped, and snatching up the\n missile, he ran forward.\n\n\n At great speed, he closed the gap between him and the approaching\n figures. He could see the rat man plainly now—his fanged, frothy\n mouth; furry face and twitching tail. The Oan, however, was too intent\n on his prey to notice Ro at first, and when he did, it was too late.\n For the young Martian had let fly with the round stone he carried.\n\n\n The Oan squealed in terror and tried to swerve from his course. The\n fear of one who sees approaching death was in his movements and his\n cry. He had seen many Oan die because of the strength and accuracy in\n the red men's arms.\n\n\n Despite his frantic contortions, the stone caught him in the side. His\n ribs and backbone cracked under the blow. He was dead before he struck\n the ground.\n\n\n With hardly a glance at his fallen foe, Ro ran on to meet the girl. She\n fell into his arms and pressed her cheek to his bare shoulder. Her dark\n eyes were wet with gladness. Warm tears ran down Ro's arm.\nFinally Na lifted her beautiful head. She looked timidly at Ro, her\n face a mask of respect. The young Martian tried to be stern in meeting\n her gaze, as was the custom among the men of his tribe when dealing\n with women; but he smiled instead.\n\n\n \"You're home,\" breathed Na.\n\n\n \"I have traveled far to the north,\" answered Ro simply, \"and seen many\n things. And now I have returned for you.\"\n\n\n \"They must have been great things you saw,\" Na coaxed.\n\n\n \"Yes, great and many. But that tale can wait. Tell me first how you\n came to be playing tag with the Oan.\"\n\n\n Na lowered her eyes.\n\n\n \"I was caught in the forest below the cliffs. The Oan spied me and I\n ran. The chase was long and tiring. I was almost ready to drop when you\n appeared.\"\n\n\n \"You were alone in the woods!\" Ro exclaimed. \"Since when do the women\n of our tribe travel from the cliffs alone?\"\n\n\n \"Since a long time,\" she answered sadly. Then she cried. And between\n sobs she spoke:\n\n\n \"Many weeks ago a great noise came out of the sky. We ran to the mouths\n of our caves and looked out, and saw a great sphere of shining metal\n landing in the valley below. Many colored fire spat from one end of it.\n\n\n \"The men of our tribe snatched up stones, and holding one in their\n hands and one beneath their armpits, they climbed down to battle or\n greet our visitors. They had surrounded the sphere and were waiting,\n when suddenly an entrance appeared in the metal and two men stepped out.\n\n\n \"They were strange men indeed; white as the foam on water, and clothed\n in strange garb from the neck down, even to coverings on their feet.\n They made signs of peace—with one hand only, for they carried\n weapons of a sort in the other. And the men of our tribe made the\n same one-handed sign of peace, for they would not risk dropping their\n stones. Then the white men spoke; but their tongue was strange, and our\n men signaled that they could not understand. The white men smiled, and\n a great miracle took place. Suddenly to our minds came pictures and\n words. The white men spoke with their thoughts.\n\n\n \"They came from a place called Earth, they said. And they came in\n peace. Our men found they could think very hard and answer back with\n their own thoughts. And there was much talk and happiness, for friendly\n visitors were always welcome.\n\n\n \"There were two more white ones who came from the sphere. One was a\n woman with golden hair, and the other, a man of age, with hair like\n silver frost.\n\n\n \"There was a great feast then, and our men showed their skill at\n throwing. Then the white men displayed the power of their strange\n weapons by pointing them at a tree and causing flame to leap forth to\n burn the wood in two. We were indeed glad they came in peace.\n\n\n \"That night we asked them to sleep with us in the caves, but they made\n camp in the valley instead. The darkness passed swiftly and silently,\n and with the dawn we left our caves to rejoin our new friends. But\n everywhere a red man showed himself, he cried out and died by the\n flame from the white men's weapons.\n\n\n \"I looked into the valley and saw hundreds of Oan. They had captured\n our friends in the night and were using their weapons to attack us.\n There was a one-sided battle that lasted three days. Finally, under\n cover of night, we were forced to leave the caves. One by one we went,\n and those of us who lived still travel alone.\"\n\n\n Ro groaned aloud as Na finished her tale. His homecoming was a meeting\n with tragedy, instead of a joyful occasion.\n\n\n \"What of my father?\" he asked hopefully. \"He was a great warrior.\n Surely he didn't fall to the Oan?\"\n\n\n \"He had no chance to fight,\" Na answered. \"Two of your brothers died\n with him on that first morning.\"\nRo squared his shoulders and set his jaw. He wiped a hint of tears from\n his eyes.\n\n\n \"They shall pay,\" he murmured, and started off toward the cliffs again.\n\n\n Na trailed behind him. Her face was grave with concern.\n\n\n \"They are very many,\" she said.\n\n\n \"Then there will be more to kill,\" answered Ro without turning.\n\n\n \"They have the weapons of the white ones.\"\n\n\n \"And the white ones, as well. They probably keep them alive to repair\n the weapons if they become useless. But when I have slain a few Oan, I\n will set the white ones free. They will help me to make more weapons.\n Together we will fight the rat men.\"\n\n\n Na smiled. Ro was angry, but anger did not make him blind. He would\n make a good mate.\n\n\n The sun was setting when the two Martians reached the cliffs. Below\n them was the valley in which lay the metal sphere. Ro could see it\n dimly outlined in the shadows, as Na had said. A distance away, in\n another clearing, he could see many Oan, flitting ghost-like from place\n to place.\n\n\n There were no fires, for the Oan were more beast than man and feared\n flame; but Ro could make out four prone figures. They appeared to\n be white blots in the dimness. One had long, golden hair, like spun\n sunbeams; another's head was covered with a thatch like a cap of snow\n on a mountain peak.\n\n\n \"You say they came from a place called Earth?\" Ro asked Na in wonder.\n\n\n \"They traveled through space in their 'ship,'\" Na answered. \"They\n called themselves an expedition.\"\n\n\n Ro was silent then. In a short time it would be dark enough to go down\n into the valley. When he had rescued the white ones, he would learn\n more about them.\n\n\n He turned away from the valley to study Na. She was very beautiful.\n Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle and her hair shone in the twilight. He\n understood why she had crept into his dreams.\n\n\n The darkness settled quickly. Soon Ro could barely make out the girl's\n features. It was time for him to leave.\n\n\n He took a pouch from his waist and shook out a gold arm band. This he\n clasped on Na's wrist.\n\n\n \"All men will know now that you are the mate of Ro,\" he whispered. And\n he kissed her, as was the custom of his tribe when a man took a wife.\n\n\n Without another word he disappeared over the edge of the cliff. They\n had already made plans for their next meeting. There was no need for a\n prolonged farewell. They would be together soon—on the far side of the\n cliff—if all went well.\n\n\n In his left hand and under his armpit Ro carried stones. They were of a\n good weight and would make short work of any Oan who was foolish enough\n to cross his path.\n\n\n His right arm he kept free for climbing. His fingers found crevices\n to hold to in the almost smooth wall. His toes seemed to have eyes to\n pierce the darkness in finding footholds.\nThe climb was long and dangerous. Ro's skin glistened with sweat.\n He had lived in the cliffs all his life, and had made many perilous\n climbs, but never one on so dark a night. It seemed an eternity before\n he rested at the bottom.\n\n\n Feeling his way cautiously, he moved toward the camp. He could sense\n the presence of many Oan close by. The hair at the base of his neck\n prickled. He prayed he wouldn't be seen. An alarm now would spoil his\n plan.\n\n\n Ahead of him, he saw a clearing. That would be his destination. On\n the far side he would find the white ones. He took the stone from his\n armpit and moved on.\n\n\n Suddenly he halted. A dim figure approached. It was one of the Oan, a\n guard. He was coming straight at Ro. The young Martian shrank back.\n\n\n \"The rat men have eyes to cut the night.\" It was a memory of his\n mother's voice. She had spoken those words when he was a child, to keep\n him from straying too far.\n\n\n The Oan was only a few feet away now, but his eyes were not cutting\n the night. Ro could see his large ears, hear his twitching tail. In a\n moment the beast would stumble over him.\n\n\n Like a phantom, Ro arose from his crouch. The rat man was startled,\n frozen with fear. Ro drove his right arm around. The stone in his hand\n cracked the Oan's skull like an eggshell. Ro caught the body as it\n fell, lowered it noiselessly to the ground.\n\n\n Breathing more easily, Ro moved on. He reached the edge of the small\n clearing without making a sound. Strewn on the ground were shapeless\n heaps. They would be the slumbering rat men. Ro suppressed an urge to\n spring amongst them and slay them as they slept.\n\n\n He lay flat on his stomach and inched his way ahead. It was slow work,\n but safer. When a sound reached his ears he drew himself together and\n feigned sleep. In the dusk he appeared no different than the others.\n\n\n His chest was scratched in a thousand places when he reached the far\n side, but he felt no pain. His heart was singing within him. His job\n was almost simple now. The difficult part was done.\n\n\n Straining his eyes, he caught sight of a golden mass some feet away.\n Crouching low, he darted toward it. In a moment his outstretched hands\n contacted a soft body. It seemed to shrink from his touch. A tiny gasp\n reached his ears.\n\n\n \"Be still,\" he thought. He remembered Na's words: '\nWe spoke with our\n thoughts.\n' \"Be still. I've come to free you.\" And then, because it\n seemed so futile, he whispered the words aloud.\n\n\n Then his mind seemed to grow light, as though someone was sharing the\n weight of his brain. An urgent message to hurry—hurry reached him. It\n was as though he was\nfeeling\nwords, words spoken in the light, sweet\n voice of a girl. Pictures that were not actually pictures entered his\n mind. Waves of thought that took no definite form held a plain meaning.\n\n\n His groping hands found the girl's arm and moved down to the strips of\n hide that bound her wrists. He fumbled impatiently with the heavy knots.\n\n\n \"Don't move when you are free,\" he warned the girl as he worked. \"I\n must release the others first. When all is ready I will give a signal\n with my thoughts and you will follow me.\"\n\n\n Once again his mind grew light. The girl's thoughts assured him she\n would follow his instructions.\nTime passed quickly. To Ro, it seemed that his fingers were all thumbs.\n His breathing was heavy as he struggled with the knots. But finally the\n golden-haired girl was free.\n\n\n Ro was more confident as he moved to untie the others. He worked more\n easily as each came free and he started on the next.\n\n\n When they were ready, Ro signaled the four white people to follow him.\n They rose quietly and trailed him into the woods. The girl whispered\n something to one of the men. Ro turned and glared at her through the\n shadows.\n\n\n The progress they made was slow, but gradually the distance between\n them and Oan camp grew. Ro increased his pace when silence was no\n longer necessary. The four white people stumbled ahead more quickly.\n\n\n \"We journey out of the valley and around the face of the cliffs,\" Ro\n told them. \"After a short while, we will meet Na.\"\n\n\n \"Who is Na?\" asked the girl.\n\n\n \"She is the one I have chosen for my mate,\" Ro answered.\n\n\n The white girl was silent. They traveled quite a distance without\n communicating. Each was busy with his own thoughts.\n\n\n Finally the man with the silver hair asked, \"Why did you risk your life\n to rescue us?\"\n\n\n \"With your help I will avenge the death of my father and brothers and\n the men of my tribe.\"\n\n\n He stopped walking and stared around him for a landmark. They had\n traveled far along the foot of the cliff. According to the plan Na\n should have met them minutes ago.\n\n\n Then he gave a glad cry. Squinting ahead he saw an approaching figure.\n It was—His cry took on a note of alarm. The figure was bent low\n under the weight of a burden. It was a rat man, and slung across his\n shoulders was a girl.\n\n\n Ro's body tensed and quivered. A low growl issued from deep in his\n throat. He charged forward.\nThe Oan saw him coming and straightened, allowing the girl to fall. He\n set his twisted legs and bared his fangs. The fur on his back stood out\n straight as he prepared to meet the young Martian's attack.\n\n\n Ro struck his foe head on. They went down in a frenzied bundle of fury.\n The rat man's tail lashed out to twist around Ro's neck. With frantic\n strength, Ro tore it away before it could tighten.\n\n\n Ignoring the Oan's slashing teeth, the young Martian pounded heavy\n fists into his soft stomach. Suddenly shifting his attack, Ro wrapped\n his legs around the rat man's waist. His hands caught a furry throat\n and tightened.\n\n\n Over and over they rolled. The Oan clawed urgently at the Martian's\n choking fingers. His chest made strange noises as it pleaded for the\n air that would give it life. But Ro's hands were bands of steel,\n tightening, ever tightening their deadly grip.\n\n\n Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The rat man quivered\n and lay still.\n\n\n Ro dismounted the limp body. His face wore a wildly triumphant\n expression. It changed as he remembered the girl. He ran to her side.\n\n\n Na was just opening her eyes. She stared around her fearfully, then\n smiled as she recognized Ro. The young Martian breathed a sigh of\n relief.\n\n\n Na turned her head and saw the body of the rat man. She shuddered.\n\n\n \"I was coming down the side of the mountain,\" she said. \"I saw him\n standing at the foot. The shadows were deceiving. I thought it was you.\n It wasn't until too late that I discovered my mistake.\"\n\n\n Ro gathered the girl in his arms. He spoke softly to her to help her\n forget.\nWhen she had recovered from her shock, the small group traveled on. Ro\n led them about a mile further along the base of the cliff, then up, to\n a cleverly concealed cave.\n\n\n \"We will stay here,\" he told the others, \"until we are ready to attack\n the Oan.\"\n\n\n \"But there are only six of us,\" one of the white men protested. \"There\n are hundreds of the beasts. We wouldn't have a chance.\"\n\n\n Ro smiled.\n\n\n \"We will speak of that when it is dawn again,\" he said with his\n thoughts. \"Now we must rest.\"\n\n\n He sat in a corner of the cave and leaned back against the wall. His\n eyes were half shut and he pretended to doze. Actually he was studying\n the white ones.\n\n\n The man with the silver hair seemed very old and weak, but very wise.\n The other men had hair as black as any Martian's, but their skin was\n pure white. They were handsome, Ro thought, in a barbaric sort of way.\n One was lean and determined, the other, equally determined, but stouter\n and less impressive. Ro then centered his attention on the girl. Her\n golden hair gleamed proudly, even in the dusk. She was very beautiful,\n almost as lovely as Na.\n\n\n \"Tell me,\" he asked suddenly, \"where is this strange place you come\n from? And how is it that you can speak and cause others to speak with\n their minds?\"\n\n\n It was the old man who answered.\n\n\n \"We come from a place called Earth, many millions of miles away\n through space. My daughter, Charlotte, my two assistants, Carlson—\"\n the lean man nodded—\"Grimm—\" the stouter man acknowledged the\n introduction—\"and myself are an expedition. We came here to Mars to\n study.\"\n\n\n Ro introduced himself and Na.\n\n\n \"What manner of a place is this Earth?\" he asked, after the formalities.\n\n\n \"Our part of Earth, America, is a great country. Our cities are built\n of steel and stone, and we travel about in space boats. Now tell me,\n what is it like here on Mars? Surely the whole planet isn't wilderness.\n What year is it?\"\n\n\n \"You have seen what it is like here,\" Ro answered. \"As for 'year,' I\n don't understand.\"\n\n\n \"A year is a measure of time,\" the old man explained. \"When we left\n Earth it was the year twenty-two hundred.\"\n\n\n \"We have nothing like that here,\" said Ro, still puzzled. \"But tell me,\n about this speaking with the mind. Perhaps I shall understand that.\"\n\n\n \"It's simple telepathy. We have mastered the science on Earth. It takes\n study from childhood, but once you have mastered the art, it is quite\n simple to transmit or receive thoughts from anyone. A mere matter of\n concentration. We—who speak different tongues—understand each other\n because of action we have in mind as we speak. We want the other to\n walk, we think of the other walking. A picture is transmitted and\n understood. It is a message in a Universal language.\"\n\n\n Ro sighed.\n\n\n \"I am afraid we are very backward here on Mars,\" he said wearily. \"I\n would like to learn more, but we must sleep now. Tomorrow will be a\n very busy day.\"\n\n\n Ro slipped his arm about Na's shoulder and drew her closer. With their\n heads together they slept.\nRo awakened with the dawn. He was startled to find that Na had left his\n side. He rose quickly and strode to the mouth of the cave.\n\n\n Na met him at the entrance. She was returning from a clump of trees\n a short distance away. Her arms were loaded with Manno, the fruit of\n Mars, and clusters of wild berries and grapes.\n\n\n \"You see,\" she said, \"I will make you a good mate. Our table will be\n well provided for.\"\n\n\n \"You will make no mate at all,\" Ro said sternly, \"and there will be no\n table if you wander off. Your next meeting with the Oan may not be so\n fortunate.\"\n\n\n He glared at her for a moment, then smiled and helped her with her\n burden.\n\n\n The others in the cave awakened. Ro noticed that Charlotte had slept\n beside Carlson, but moved away shyly now that it was daylight. He\n noticed, too, that Grimm was seeing the same thing and seemed annoyed.\n\n\n Ro smiled. These young white men were no different than Martians where\n a girl was concerned.\n\n\n When they had finished breakfast, they sat around the floor of the cave\n and spoke.\n\n\n It was Carlson who asked, \"How do you expect the six of us to attack\n the rat men?\"\n\n\n \"The Oan are cowards,\" Ro answered. \"They are brave only because they\n have your weapons. But now that you are free, you can make more of\n these sticks that shoot fire.\"\n\n\n Grimm laughed.\n\n\n \"It takes intricate machinery to construct a ray gun,\" he said. \"Here\n in this wilderness we have sticks and stones to work with.\"\n\n\n Ro sprang to his feet to tower above the man. His handsome face was\n twisted in anger.\n\n\n \"You're lying,\" he shouted aloud, forgetting that the white man\n couldn't understand his words. \"You're lying because you are afraid.\n You refuse to help me avenge my people because you are more of a coward\n than the Oan.\"\n\n\n Grimm climbed to his feet and backed away. Ro advanced on him, his\n fists clenched.\n\n\n The old man also rose. He placed a restraining hand on Ro's arm.\n\n\n \"He's lying,\" said Ro with his thoughts.\n\n\n \"Tell him I'm speaking the truth, professor,\" said Grimm aloud.\n\n\n The professor repeated Grimm's words with his thoughts. \"It would be\n impossible to make new guns here,\" he said. \"But there is another way.\n I have thought about it all night.\"\n\n\n Ro turned quickly.\n\n\n \"What is it?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"The space sphere. There are weapons on our ship that are greater\n than ray guns. With those we could defeat the rat men.\" The professor\n shrugged, turned away. \"But how could we get into the ship? It is too\n well guarded.\"\n\n\n Ro fell silent. He walked to the mouth of the cave and stared out. When\n he turned back to the others, his attention was centered on Na.\n\n\n \"Perhaps the attraction you seem to hold for the Oan can be put to\n good use,\" he said aloud. \"The sphere is a distance away from the Oan\n camp. All of the rat men cannot be guarding it. Perhaps, by revealing\n yourself, you can lure the guards away from their post.\"\n\n\n He repeated his plan to the others.\n\n\n \"But they'll kill her,\" gasped Charlotte.\n\n\n \"She will be a woman alone,\" said Ro. \"The Oan prefer to capture women\n when they can.\"\n\n\n \"Then she'll be captured,\" the professor said. \"It's much too risky.\"\n\n\n Ro laughed.\n\n\n \"Do you think I will let her go alone? I will be close by. Na can lead\n the rat men through a narrow part of the valley. I will be above on the\n cliffs, waiting to pelt them with stones. Carlson or Grimm can be with\n me to roll an avalanche of rocks on their heads.\n\n\n \"In the meantime, you can take over the unguarded sphere. The rest will\n be easy.\"\n\n\n The professor smacked his fist into his palm.\n\n\n \"It might work at that. Grimm can go with you. Carlson and Charlotte\n will go with me.\"\n\n\n \"Why me?\" Grimm demanded. \"Why not Carlson? Or are you saving him for\n your daughter?\"\nCarlson grabbed Grimm by the shoulder and spun him around. He drove a\n hard fist into the stout man's face.\n\n\n Grimm stumbled backward. He fell at the cave's entrance. His hand,\n sprawled behind him to stop his fall, closed over a rock. He flung it\n at Carlson from a sitting position. It caught Carlson in the shoulder.\n\n\n Gritting his teeth, Carlson charged at Grimm. But Ro moved more\n swiftly. He caught the white man and forced him back.\n\n\n \"This is no time for fighting,\" he said. \"When the Oan are defeated you\n can kill each other. But not until then.\"\n\n\n Grimm brushed himself off as he got to his feet\n\n\n \"Okay,\" he sneered. \"I'll go with the red man. But when we meet again,\n it will be a different story.\"\n\n\n Carlson turned to Ro.\n\n\n \"I'll go with you,\" he said. \"Grimm can go with Charlotte and the\n professor.\"\n\n\n When they had detailed their plan, the party left the cave. Ro led them\n into the thickest part of the forest and toward the Oan camp.\n\n\n They moved swiftly. Before long they were at the narrow entrance to the\n valley. It was about a hundred yards long and twenty feet wide. The\n walls of the cliff rose almost straight up on both sides.\n\n\n \"We leave you here,\" said Ro to the professor. \"Na will lead you to the\n sphere. She will remain hidden until you have circled away from her.\n Then she will reveal herself.\"\n\n\n Ro looked at Na for a long moment before they parted. He grew very\n proud of what he saw. There was no fear in her eyes. Her small chin was\n firm.\n\n\n He turned to Carlson. The young Earthman was looking at Charlotte in\n much the same way.\n\n\n \"Come on,\" Ro said. \"If we spend the rest of the morning here, the Oan\n will try some strategy of their own.\"\n\n\n Carlson seemed to come out of a trance. He swung around to trail Ro up\n the sloping part of the mountain. They climbed in silence.\n\n\n Once Ro stopped to look down into the valley. But Na and the others\n were gone. He felt a pang of regret as he turned to move upward.\n\n\n When they had reached the top, he and Carlson set to work piling rocks\n and boulders at the edge of the cliff. They chose the point directly\n over the narrowest part of the valley. If all went well, the Oan would\n be trapped. They would die under a hailstorm of rock.\n\n\n \"You would have liked a more tender goodbye with Charlotte,\" Ro said to\n Carlson as they worked. \"Was it fear of Grimm that prevented it?\"\n\n\n Carlson straightened. He weighed Ro's words before answering. Finally\n he said, \"I didn't want to make trouble. It was a bad time, and\n senseless, besides. Charlotte and I are planning to be married when we\n return to America. It's not as though Grimm was still in the running.\n I'm sure he'll see reason when we tell him. It's foolish to be enemies.\"\n\n\n \"Why don't you take her for your wife here on Mars? That would end the\n trouble completely.\"\n\n\n Carlson seemed surprised.\n\n\n \"It wouldn't be legal. Who would perform the ceremony?\"\n\n\n Ro seemed puzzled, then he laughed.\n\n\n \"Last night I thought that we on Mars are backward. Now I'm not so\n sure. When we find our mates here, we take her. There is no one to\n speak of 'legal' or 'ceremony.' After all, it's a personal matter. Who\n can tell us whether it is 'legal' or not? What better ceremony than a\n kiss and a promise?\" He bent back to his work chuckling.\n\n\n \"I could argue the point,\" Carlson laughed. \"I could tell you about a\n place called Hollywood. Marriage and divorce is bad enough there. Under\n your system, it would really be a mess. But I won't say anything. Here\n on Mars your kiss and a promise is probably as binding as any ceremony.\"\n\n\n Ro didn't speak. He didn't concentrate and transmit his thoughts,\n but kept them to himself. The pictures he'd received from Carlson\n were confusing. The business at hand was more grim and important than\n untangling the puzzle.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does the gold band that Ro put on Na's wrist mean for them?", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_1", "options": ["They are engaged. ", "They are combat mates. ", "They are married. ", "They are dating. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who or what is an Oan?", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_2", "options": ["The name of the human's fire weapons. ", "The name of the red people. ", "The name of the human's ship. ", "The name of the rat people. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the Oans' unusual advantage? ", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_3", "options": ["They have the human's fire weapons. ", "They emit flames. ", "The strength of their arms. ", "Their eyes cut the night. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is Grimm annoyed that Charlotte slept beside Carlson?", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_4", "options": ["Because he is Charlotte's friend and he doesn't think that Carlson is good enough for her. ", "Because he is Charlotte's father and does not approve of the relationship. ", "Because he is the leader of the expedition and doesn't want his crew to get distracted with romance. ", "Because he is in love with Charlotte and is jealous of the affection between her and Carlson. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "In what sense does Ro relate to the white young men?", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_5", "options": ["In their difficulty understanding signals that women send them. ", "In their eagerness to enter into combat situations. ", "In their need to establish themselves as the more dominant male through physical prowess. ", "In their attachment to and rivalry over women. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is NOT a difference between the red people and the humans?", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_6", "options": ["their typical mode of communication", "the importance of tracking time", "the dynamic between males and females", "their marriage ceremony"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Ro change his mind about the people on Mars being backwards?", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_7", "options": ["Because he realized that despite human's technological advancements, they have over-complicated marriage. ", "Because he realized that while the humans are physically vulnerable without their weapons, the red people have formidable strength in their arms. ", "Because he realized that human males suppress public affection when they are intimidated by other males, whereas male Martians don't hide their affection. ", "Because he realized that male humans were petty and even brute when it came to rivalry over women, whereas male Martians were much more civilized.  "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who is the man with the silver hair?", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_8", "options": ["Carlson", "Ro", "Grimm", "the professor in charge of the expedition"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was most likely the strongest motivator for humans to develop telepathy?", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_9", "options": ["Telepathy takes less concentration than speaking aloud. ", "Telepathy is ideal for keeping sensitive information secret, since it cannot be accidentally overheard. ", "Telepathy enables communication across language barriers. ", "Telepathy eliminates the misunderstanding that comes with words. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What became of Ro's mother?", "question_unique_id": "63523_STSHLFEA_10", "options": ["She is hiding from the Oan in the cliffs. ", "She was killed by the Oan. ", "She was taken hostage by the Oan. ", "The text doesn't tell us what happened to Ro's mother. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/5/2/63523//63523-h//63523-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63401", "set_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1001", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Happy Castaway", "year": 1950, "author": "McDowell, Robert Emmett", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; PS; Asteroids -- Fiction; Castaways -- Fiction", "article": "The Happy Castaway\nBY ROBERT E. McDOWELL\n\n\n Being space-wrecked and marooned is tough\n\n enough. But to face the horrors of such a\n\n planet as this was too much. Imagine Fawkes'\n\n terrible predicament; plenty of food—and\n\n twenty seven beautiful girls for companions.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Spring 1945.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nJonathan Fawkes opened his eyes. He was flat on his back, and a girl\n was bending over him. He detected a frightened expression on the\n girl's face. His pale blue eyes traveled upward beyond the girl. The\n sky was his roof, yet he distinctly remembered going to sleep on his\n bunk aboard the space ship.\n\n\n \"You're not dead?\"\n\n\n \"I've some doubt about that,\" he replied dryly. He levered himself to\n his elbows. The girl, he saw, had bright yellow hair. Her nose was\n pert, tip-tilted. She had on a ragged blue frock and sandals.\n\n\n \"Is—is anything broken?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"Don't know. Help me up.\" Between them he managed to struggle to his\n feet. He winced. He said, \"My name's Jonathan Fawkes. I'm a space pilot\n with Universal. What happened? I feel like I'd been poured out of a\n concrete mixer.\"\n\n\n She pointed to the wreck of a small space freighter a dozen feet away.\n Its nose was buried in the turf, folded back like an accordion. It\n had burst open like a ripe watermelon. He was surprised that he had\n survived at all. He scratched his head. \"I was running from Mars to\n Jupiter with a load of seed for the colonists.\"\n\n\n \"Oh!\" said the girl, biting her lips. \"Your co-pilot must be in the\n wreckage.\"\n\n\n He shook his head. \"No,\" he reassured her. \"I left him on Mars. He\n had an attack of space sickness. I was all by myself; that was the\n trouble. I'd stay at the controls as long as I could, then lock her on\n her course and snatch a couple of hours' sleep. I can remember crawling\n into my bunk. The next thing I knew you were bending over me.\" He\n paused. \"I guess the automatic deflectors slowed me up or I would have\n been a cinder by this time,\" he said.\n\n\n The girl didn't reply. She continued to watch him, a faint enigmatic\n smile on her lips. Jonathan glanced away in embarrassment. He wished\n that pretty women didn't upset him so. He said nervously, \"Where am I?\n I couldn't have slept all the way to Jupiter.\"\n\n\n The girl shrugged her shoulders.\n\n\n \"I don't know.\"\n\n\n \"You don't know!\" He almost forgot his self-consciousness in his\n surprise. His pale blue eyes returned to the landscape. A mile across\n the plain began a range of jagged foothills, which tossed upward\n higher and higher until they merged with the blue saw-edge of a chain\n of mountains. As he looked a puff of smoke belched from a truncated\n cone-shaped peak. A volcano. Otherwise there was no sign of life: just\n he and the strange yellow-headed girl alone in the center of that vast\n rolling prairie.\n\n\n \"I was going to explain,\" he heard her say. \"We think that we are on an\n asteroid.\"\n\n\n \"We?\" he looked back at her.\n\n\n \"Yes. There are twenty-seven of us. We were on our way to Jupiter, too,\n only we were going to be wives for the colonists.\"\n\n\n \"I remember,\" he exclaimed. \"Didn't the Jupiter Food-growers\n Association enlist you girls to go to the colonies?\"\n\n\n She nodded her head. \"Only twenty-seven of us came through the crash.\"\n\n\n \"Everybody thought your space ship hit a meteor,\" he said.\n\n\n \"We hit this asteroid.\"\n\n\n \"But that was three years ago.\"\n\n\n \"Has it been that long? We lost track of time.\" She didn't take her\n eyes off him, not for a second. Such attention made him acutely self\n conscious. She said, \"I'm Ann. Ann Clotilde. I was hunting when I saw\n your space ship. You had been thrown clear. You were lying all in a\n heap. I thought you were dead.\" She stooped, picked up a spear.\n\n\n \"Do you feel strong enough to hike back to our camp? It's only about\n four miles,\" she said.\n\n\n \"I think so,\" he said.\nJonathan Fawkes fidgeted uncomfortably. He would rather pilot a space\n ship through a meteor field than face twenty-seven young women. They\n were the only thing in the Spaceways of which he was in awe. Then he\n realized that the girl's dark blue eyes had strayed beyond him. A frown\n of concentration marred her regular features. He turned around.\n\n\n On the rim of the prairie he saw a dozen black specks moving toward\n them.\n\n\n She said: \"Get down!\" Her voice was agitated. She flung herself on her\n stomach and began to crawl away from the wreck. Jonathan Fawkes stared\n after her stupidly. \"Get down!\" she reiterated in a furious voice.\n\n\n He let himself to his hands and knees. \"Ouch!\" he said. He felt like\n he was being jabbed with pins. He must be one big bruise. He scuttled\n after the girl. \"What's wrong?\"\n\n\n The girl looked back at him over her shoulder. \"Centaurs!\" she said. \"I\n didn't know they had returned. There is a small ravine just ahead which\n leads into the hills. I don't think they've seen us. If we can reach\n the hills we'll be safe.\"\n\n\n \"Centaurs! Isn't there anything new under the sun?\"\n\n\n \"Well, personally,\" she replied, \"I never saw a Centaur until I was\n wrecked on this asteroid.\" She reached the ravine, crawled head\n foremost over the edge. Jonathan tumbled after her. He hit the bottom,\n winced, scrambled to his feet. The girl started at a trot for the\n hills. Jonathan, groaning at each step, hobbled beside her.\n\n\n \"Why won't the Centaurs follow us into the hills?\" he panted.\n\n\n \"Too rough. They're like horses,\" she said. \"Nothing but a goat could\n get around in the hills.\"\n\n\n The gulley, he saw, was deepening into a respectable canyon, then a\n gorge. In half a mile, the walls towered above them. A narrow ribbon\n of sky was visible overhead. Yellow fern-like plants sprouted from the\n crevices and floor of the canyon.\n\n\n They flushed a small furry creature from behind a bush. As it sped\n away, it resembled a cottontail of Earth. The girl whipped back her\n arm, flung the spear. It transfixed the rodent. She picked it up, tied\n it to her waist. Jonathan gaped. Such strength and accuracy astounded\n him. He thought, amazons and centaurs. He thought, but this is the year\n 3372; not the time of ancient Greece.\n\n\n The canyon bore to the left. It grew rougher, the walls more\n precipitate. Jonathan limped to a halt. High boots and breeches, the\n uniform of Universal's space pilots, hadn't been designed for walking.\n \"Hold on,\" he said. He felt in his pockets, withdrew an empty cigarette\n package, crumpled it and hurled it to the ground.\n\n\n \"You got a cigarette?\" he asked without much hope.\n\n\n The girl shook her head. \"We ran out of tobacco the first few months we\n were here.\"\n\n\n Jonathan turned around, started back for the space ship.\n\n\n \"Where are you going?\" cried Ann in alarm.\n\n\n He said, \"I've got a couple of cartons of cigarettes back at the\n freighter. Centaurs or no centaurs, I'm going to get a smoke.\"\n\n\n \"No!\" She clutched his arm. He was surprised at the strength of her\n grip. \"They'd kill you,\" she said.\n\n\n \"I can sneak back,\" he insisted stubbornly. \"They might loot the ship.\n I don't want to lose those cigarettes. I was hauling some good burley\n tobacco seed too. The colonists were going to experiment with it on\n Ganymede.\"\n\n\n \"No!\"\n\n\n He lifted his eyebrows. He thought, she is an amazon! He firmly\n detached her hand.\n\n\n The girl flicked up her spear, nicked his neck with the point of it.\n \"We are going to the camp,\" she said.\n\n\n Jonathan threw himself down backwards, kicked the girl's feet out from\n under her. Like a cat he scrambled up and wrenched the spear away.\n\n\n A voice shouted: \"What's going on there?\"\nHe paused shamefacedly. A second girl, he saw, was running toward\n them from up the canyon. Her bare legs flashed like ivory. She was\n barefooted, and she had black hair. A green cloth was wrapped around\n her sarong fashion. She bounced to a stop in front of Jonathan, her\n brown eyes wide in surprise. He thought her sarong had been a table\n cloth at one time in its history.\n\n\n \"A man!\" she breathed. \"By Jupiter and all its little moons, it's a\n man!\"\n\n\n \"Don't let him get away!\" cried Ann.\n\n\n \"Hilda!\" the brunette shrieked. \"A man! It's a man!\"\n\n\n A third girl skidded around the bend in the canyon. Jonathan backed off\n warily.\n\n\n Ann Clotilde cried in anguish: \"Don't let him get away!\"\n\n\n Jonathan chose the centaurs. He wheeled around, dashed back the way\n he had come. Someone tackled him. He rolled on the rocky floor of the\n canyon. He struggled to his feet. He saw six more girls race around the\n bend in the canyon. With shouts of joy they flung themselves on him.\n\n\n Jonathan was game, but the nine husky amazons pinned him down by sheer\n weight. They bound him hand and foot. Then four of them picked him up\n bodily, started up the canyon chanting: \"\nHe was a rocket riding daddy\n from Mars.\n\" He recognized it as a popular song of three years ago.\n\n\n Jonathan had never been so humiliated in his life. He was known in the\n spaceways from Mercury to Jupiter as a man to leave alone. His nose had\n been broken three times. A thin white scar crawled down the bronze of\n his left cheek, relic of a barroom brawl on Venus. He was big, rangy,\n tough. And these girls had trounced him. Girls! He almost wept from\n mortification.\n\n\n He said, \"Put me down. I'll walk.\"\n\n\n \"You won't try to get away?\" said Ann.\n\n\n \"No,\" he replied with as much dignity as he could summon while being\n held aloft by four barbarous young women.\n\n\n \"Let him down,\" said Ann. \"We can catch him, anyway, if he makes a\n break.\"\n\n\n Jonathan Fawkes' humiliation was complete. He meekly trudged between\n two husky females, who ogled him shamelessly. He was amazed at the ease\n with which they had carried him. He was six feet three and no light\n weight. He thought enviously of the centaurs, free to gallop across the\n plains. He wished he was a centaur.\n\n\n The trail left the canyon, struggled up the precipitate walls. Jonathan\n picked his way gingerly, hugged the rock. \"Don't be afraid,\" advised\n one of his captors. \"Just don't look down.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not afraid,\" said Jonathan hotly. To prove it he trod the narrow\n ledge with scorn. His foot struck a pebble. Both feet went out from\n under him. He slithered halfway over the edge. For one sickening moment\n he thought he was gone, then Ann grabbed him by the scruff of his neck,\n hauled him back to safety. He lay gasping on his stomach. They tied a\n rope around his waist then, and led him the rest of the way to the top\n like a baby on a leash. He was too crestfallen to resent it.\n\n\n The trail came out on a high ridge. They paused on a bluff overlooking\n the prairie.\n\n\n \"Look!\" cried Ann pointing over the edge.\n\n\n A half dozen beasts were trotting beneath on the plain. At first,\n Jonathan mistook them for horses. Then he saw that from the withers up\n they resembled men. Waists, shoulders, arms and heads were identical to\n his own, but their bodies were the bodies of horses.\n\n\n \"Centaurs!\" Jonathan Fawkes said, not believing his eyes.\nThe girls set up a shout and threw stones down at the centaurs, who\n reared, pawed the air, and galloped to a safe distance, from which they\n hurled back insults in a strange tongue. Their voices sounded faintly\n like the neighing of horses.\n\n\n Amazons and centaurs, he thought again. He couldn't get the problem\n of the girls' phenomenal strength out of his mind. Then it occurred\n to him that the asteroid, most likely, was smaller even than Earth's\n moon. He must weigh about a thirtieth of what he usually did, due to\n the lessened gravity. It also occurred to him that they would be thirty\n times as strong. He was staggered. He wished he had a smoke.\n\n\n At length, the amazons and the centaurs tired of bandying insults\n back and forth. The centaurs galloped off into the prairie, the girls\n resumed their march. Jonathan scrambled up hills, skidded down slopes.\n The brunette was beside him helping him over the rough spots.\n\n\n \"I'm Olga,\" she confided. \"Has anybody ever told you what a handsome\n fellow you are?\" She pinched his cheek. Jonathan blushed.\n\n\n They climbed a ridge, paused at the crest. Below them, he saw a deep\n valley. A stream tumbled through the center of it. There were trees\n along its banks, the first he had seen on the asteroid. At the head of\n the valley, he made out the massive pile of a space liner.\n\n\n They started down a winding path. The space liner disappeared behind\n a promontory of the mountain. Jonathan steeled himself for the coming\n ordeal. He would have sat down and refused to budge except that he knew\n the girls would hoist him on their shoulders and bear him into the camp\n like a bag of meal.\n\n\n The trail debouched into the valley. Just ahead the space liner\n reappeared. He imagined that it had crashed into the mountain, skidded\n and rolled down its side until it lodged beside the stream. It reminded\n him of a wounded dinosaur. Three girls were bathing in the stream. He\n looked away hastily.\n\n\n Someone hailed them from the space ship.\n\n\n \"We've caught a man,\" shrieked one of his captors.\n\n\n A flock of girls streamed out of the wrecked space ship.\n\n\n \"A man!\" screamed a husky blonde. She was wearing a grass skirt. She\n had green eyes. \"We're rescued!\"\n\n\n \"No. No,\" Ann Clotilde hastened to explain. \"He was wrecked like us.\"\n\n\n \"Oh,\" came a disappointed chorus.\n\n\n \"He's a man,\" said the green-eyed blonde. \"That's the next best thing.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Olga,\" said a strapping brunette. \"Who'd ever thought a man could\n look so good?\"\n\n\n \"I did,\" said Olga. She chucked Jonathan under the chin. He shivered\n like an unbroken colt when the bit first goes in its mouth. He felt\n like a mouse hemmed in by a ring of cats.\n\n\n A big rawboned brute of a girl strolled into the circle. She said,\n \"Dinner's ready.\" Her voice was loud, strident. It reminded him of\n the voices of girls in the honky tonks on Venus. She looked at him\n appraisingly as if he were a horse she was about to bid on. \"Bring him\n into the ship,\" she said. \"The man must be starved.\"\n\n\n He was propelled jubilantly into the palatial dining salon of the\n wrecked liner. A long polished meturilium table occupied the center of\n the floor. Automatic weight distributing chairs stood around it. His\n feet sank into a green fiberon carpet. He had stepped back into the\n Thirty-fourth Century from the fabulous barbarian past.\n\n\n With a sigh of relief, he started to sit down. A lithe red-head sprang\n forward and held his chair. They all waited politely for him to be\n seated before they took their places. He felt silly. He felt like\n a captive princess. All the confidence engendered by the familiar\n settings of the space ship went out of him like wind. He, Jonathan\n Fawkes, was a castaway on an asteroid inhabited by twenty-seven wild\n women.\nAs the meal boisterously progressed, he regained sufficient courage\n to glance timidly around. Directly across the table sat a striking,\n grey-eyed girl whose brown hair was coiled severely about her head. She\n looked to him like a stenographer. He watched horrified as she seized\n a whole roast fowl, tore it apart with her fingers, gnawed a leg. She\n caught him staring at her and rolled her eyes at him. He returned his\n gaze to his plate.\n\n\n Olga said: \"Hey, Sultan.\"\n\n\n He shuddered, but looked up questioningly.\n\n\n She said, \"How's the fish?\"\n\n\n \"Good,\" he mumbled between a mouthful. \"Where did you get it?\"\n\n\n \"Caught it,\" said Olga. \"The stream's full of 'em. I'll take you\n fishing tomorrow.\" She winked at him so brazenly that he choked on a\n bone.\n\n\n \"Heaven forbid,\" he said.\n\n\n \"How about coming with me to gather fruit?\" cried the green-eyed\n blonde; \"you great big handsome man.\"\n\n\n \"Or me?\" cried another. And the table was in an uproar.\n\n\n The rawboned woman who had summoned them to dinner, pounded the table\n until the cups and plates danced. Jonathan had gathered that she was\n called Billy.\n\n\n \"Quiet!\" She shrieked in her loud strident voice. \"Let him be. He can't\n go anywhere for a few days. He's just been through a wreck. He needs\n rest.\" She turned to Jonathan who had shrunk down in his chair. \"How\n about some roast?\" she said.\n\n\n \"No.\" He pushed back his plate with a sigh. \"If I only had a smoke.\"\n\n\n Olga gave her unruly black hair a flirt. \"Isn't that just like a man?\"\n\n\n \"I wouldn't know,\" said the green-eyed blonde. \"I've forgotten what\n they're like.\"\n\n\n Billy said, \"How badly wrecked is your ship?\"\n\n\n \"It's strewn all over the landscape,\" he replied sleepily.\n\n\n \"Is there any chance of patching it up?\"\n\n\n He considered the question. More than anything else, he decided, he\n wanted to sleep. \"What?\" he said.\n\n\n \"Is there any possibility of repairing your ship?\" repeated Billy.\n\n\n \"Not outside the space docks.\"\n\n\n They expelled their breath, but not for an instant did they relax\n the barrage of their eyes. He shifted position in embarrassment. The\n movement pulled his muscles like a rack. Furthermore, an overpowering\n lassitude was threatening to pop him off to sleep before their eyes.\n\n\n \"You look exhausted,\" said Ann.\n\n\n Jonathan dragged himself back from the edge of sleep. \"Just tired,\" he\n mumbled. \"Haven't had a good night's rest since I left Mars.\" Indeed\n it was only by the most painful effort that he kept awake at all. His\n eyelids drooped lower and lower.\n\n\n \"First it's tobacco,\" said Olga; \"now he wants to sleep. Twenty-seven\n girls and he wants to sleep.\"\n\n\n \"He is asleep,\" said the green-eyed blonde.\nJonathan was slumped forward across the table, his head buried in his\n arms.\n\n\n \"Catch a hold,\" said Billy, pushing back from the table. A dozen girls\n volunteered with a rush. \"Hoist!\" said Billy. They lifted him like a\n sleepy child, bore him tenderly up an incline and into a stateroom,\n where they deposited him on the bed.\n\n\n Ann said to Olga; \"Help me with these boots.\" But they resisted every\n tug. \"It's no use,\" groaned Ann, straightening up and wiping her bright\n yellow hair back from her eyes. \"His feet have swollen. We'll have to\n cut them off.\"\n\n\n At these words, Jonathan raised upright as if someone had pulled a rope.\n\n\n \"\nCut off whose feet?\n\" he cried in alarm.\n\n\n \"Not your feet, silly,\" said Ann. \"Your boots.\"\n\n\n \"Lay a hand on those boots,\" he scowled; \"and I'll make me another pair\n out of your hides. They set me back a week's salary.\" Having delivered\n himself of this ultimatum, he went back to sleep.\n\n\n Olga clapped her hand to her forehead. \"And this,\" she cried \"is what\n we've been praying for during the last three years.\"\n\n\n The next day found Jonathan Fawkes hobbling around by the aid of a\n cane. At the portal of the space ship, he stuck out his head, glanced\n all around warily. None of the girls were in sight. They had, he\n presumed, gone about their chores: hunting, fishing, gathering fruits\n and berries. He emerged all the way and set out for the creek. He\n walked with an exaggerated limp just in case any of them should be\n hanging around. As long as he was an invalid he was safe, he hoped.\n\n\n He sighed. Not every man could be waited on so solicitously by\n twenty-seven handsome strapping amazons. He wished he could carry it\n off in cavalier fashion. He hobbled to the creek, sat down beneath the\n shade of a tree. He just wasn't the type, he supposed. And it might be\n years before they were rescued.\n\n\n As a last resort, he supposed, he could hide out in the hills or join\n the centaurs. He rather fancied himself galloping across the plains\n on the back of a centaur. He looked up with a start. Ann Clotilde was\n ambling toward him.\n\n\n \"How's the invalid?\" she said, seating herself beside him.\n\n\n \"Hot, isn't it?\" he said. He started to rise. Ann Clotilde placed the\n flat of her hand on his chest and shoved. \"\nOoof!\n\" he grunted. He sat\n down rather more forcibly than he had risen.\n\n\n \"Don't get up because of me,\" she informed him. \"It's my turn to cook,\n but I saw you out here beneath the trees. Dinner can wait. Jonathan do\n you know that you are irresistible?\" She seized his shoulders, stared\n into his eyes. He couldn't have felt any more uncomfortable had a\n hungry boa constrictor draped itself in his arms. He mopped his brow\n with his sleeve.\n\n\n \"Suppose the rest should come,\" he said in an embarrassed voice.\n\n\n \"They're busy. They won't be here until I call them to lunch. Your\n eyes,\" she said, \"are like deep mysterious pools.\"\n\n\n \"Sure enough?\" said Jonathan with involuntary interest. He began to\n recover his nerve.\n\n\n She said, \"You're the best looking thing.\" She rumpled his hair. \"I\n can't keep my eyes off you.\"\n\n\n Jonathan put his arm around her gingerly. \"Ouch!\" He winced. He had\n forgotten his sore muscles.\n\n\n \"I forgot,\" said Ann Clotilde in a contrite voice. She tried to rise.\n \"You're hurt.\"\n\n\n He pulled her back down. \"Not so you could notice it,\" he grinned.\n\n\n \"Well!\" came the strident voice of Billy from behind them. \"We're\nall\nglad to hear that!\"\nJonathan leaped to his feet, dumping Ann to the ground. He jerked\n around. All twenty-six of the girls were lined up on the path. Their\n features were grim. He said: \"I don't feel so well after all.\"\n\n\n \"It don't wash,\" said Billy. \"It's time for a showdown.\"\n\n\n Jonathan's hair stood on end. He felt rather than saw Ann Clotilde take\n her stand beside him. He noticed that she was holding her spear at a\n menacing angle. She said in an angry voice: \"He's mine. I found him.\n Leave him alone.\"\n\n\n \"Where do you get that stuff?\" cried Olga. \"Share and share alike, say\n I.\"\n\n\n \"We could draw straws for him,\" suggested the green-eyed blonde.\n\n\n \"Look here,\" Jonathan broke in. \"I've got some say in the matter.\"\n\n\n \"You have not,\" snapped Billy. \"You'll do just as we say.\" She took a\n step toward him.\n\n\n Jonathan edged away in consternation.\n\n\n \"He's going to run!\" Olga shouted.\n\n\n Jonathan never stopped until he was back in the canyon leading to the\n plain. His nerves were jumping like fleas. He craved the soothing\n relaxation of a smoke. There was, he remembered, a carton of cigarettes\n at the wreck. He resumed his flight, but at a more sober pace.\n\n\n At the spot where he and Ann had first crawled away from the centaurs,\n he scrambled out of the gulley, glanced in the direction of his space\n ship. He blinked his eyes, stared. Then he waved his arms, shouted and\n tore across the prairie. A trim space cruiser was resting beside the\n wreck of his own. Across its gleaming monaloid hull ran an inscription\n in silver letters: \"INTERSTELLAR COSMOGRAPHY SOCIETY.\"\n\n\n Two men crawled out of Jonathan's wrecked freighter, glanced in\n surprise at Jonathan. A third man ran from the cruiser, a Dixon Ray\n Rifle in his hand.\n\n\n \"I'm Jonathan Fawkes,\" said the castaway as he panted up, \"pilot for\n Universal. I was wrecked.\"\n\n\n A tall elderly man held out his hand. He had a small black waxed\n mustache and Van Dyke. He was smoking a venusian cigarette in a\n yellow composition holder. He said, \"I'm Doctor Boynton.\" He had a\n rich cultivated voice, and a nose like a hawk. \"We are members of the\n Interstellar Cosmography Society. We've been commissioned to make a\n cursory examination of this asteroid. You had a nasty crack up, Mr.\n Fawkes. But you are in luck, sir. We were on the point of returning\n when we sighted the wreck.\"\n\n\n \"I say,\" said the man who had run out of the cruiser. He was a prim,\n energetic young man. Jonathan noted that he carried the ray gun\n gingerly, respectfully. \"We're a week overdue now,\" he said. \"If you\n have any personal belongings that you'd like to take with you, you'd\n best be getting them aboard.\"\nJonathan's face broke into a grin. He said, \"Do any of you know how to\n grow tobacco?\"\n\n\n They glanced at each other in perplexity.\n\n\n \"I like it here,\" continued Jonathan. \"I'm not going back.\"\n\n\n \"What?\" cried the three explorers in one breath.\n\n\n \"I'm going to stay,\" he repeated. \"I only came back here after the\n cigarettes.\"\n\n\n \"But it will be three years before the asteroid's orbit brings it back\n in the space lanes,\" said Doctor Boynton. \"You don't possibly expect to\n be picked up before then!\"\n\n\n Jonathan shook his head, began to load himself with tools, tobacco\n seed, and cigarettes.\n\n\n \"Odd.\" Doctor Boynton shook his head, turned to the others. \"Though if\n I remember correctly, there was quite an epidemic of hermits during\n the medieval period. It was an esthetic movement. They fled to the\n wilderness to escape the temptation of\nwomen\n.\"\n\n\n Jonathan laughed outright.\n\n\n \"You are sure you won't return, young man?\"\n\n\n He shook his head. They argued, they cajoled, but Jonathan was adamant.\n He said, \"You might report my accident to Universal. Tell them to stop\n one of their Jupiter-bound freighters here when the asteroid swings\n back in the space ways. I'll have a load for them.\"\n\n\n Inside the ship, Doctor Boynton moved over to a round transparent port\n hole. \"What a strange fellow,\" he murmured. He was just in time to see\n the castaway, loaded like a pack mule, disappear in the direction from\n which he had come.\n\n\n Robinson Crusoe was going back to his man (?) Friday—all twenty-seven\n of them.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Who is Billy?", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_1", "options": ["the rawboned girl who cooked dinner", "the blond, blue-eyed woman who finds Johnathan", "he lithe red-head woman", "the grey-eyed woman with the brown hair coiled severely around her head"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do the women have Amazonian strength?", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_2", "options": ["The women underwent intensive physical training in their preparation to become wives for the colonists. ", "The meat of the asteroid animals acts like steroids and the women are constantly ultra-strengthened due to their high meat intake. ", "The women had to learn how to climb the canyon walls, which requires tremendous strength, so they trained and built up this strength. ", "Due to the lower gravity on the asteroid, they are thirty times as strong as they would've been on Earth. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is the main reason that Johnathan so humiliated by the women?", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_3", "options": ["Because he's easily upset by their beauty. ", "Because they dismiss his longing for tobacco. ", "Because he's not used to women who are stronger and more dominant than himself. ", "Because they are all heavily flirting with him. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was Ann intending to do with Johnathan under the trees before the other women showed up?", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_4", "options": ["Sleep with him.", "Convince him to help her cook dinner. ", "Ask him to be her boyfriend. ", "Talk to him about how he became a pilot. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Johnathan put his arm around Ann?", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_5", "options": ["Because he thinks it'll make the other women so jealous that they'll start a fight which will give him a chance to escape.", "Because he's interested in sleeping with her. ", "Because he thinks that if he flatters Ann she might help him escape the other wild women. ", "Because he's afraid she'll hurt him if he doesn't feign interest in her. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is the Interstellar Cosmography Society in a hurry to get off of the asteroid?", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_6", "options": ["They are afraid of being tempted by the wild women. ", "They want to get back to Universal so that they can report that Johnathan is alive. ", "They have already been on the asteroid a week longer than they intended. ", "They are afraid of running into the centaurs. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the most likely reason that Johnathan's ship crashed?", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_7", "options": ["Because it was on autopilot and it must've encountered complications that he wasn't able to attend to since he was asleep in his bunk. ", "Because he was so exhausted from flying nonstop, with only a few hours of sleep on autopilot, that he fell asleep at the controls. ", "Because the asteroid unexpectedly swung into the spaceway and the ship was going so fast that he wasn't able to avoid the crash even though he slowed the craft down. ", "Because his jealous co-pilot tampered with the autopilot settings and then feigned spacesick in hopes that Johnathan would crash while on autopilot. \n"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Johnathan's original mission?", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_8", "options": ["To find the missing women and take them to Mars so they could marry the colonists. ", "To deliver tobacco seeds to the colonists on Mars. ", "To deliver tobacco seeds to the colonists on Jupiter. ", "To find the missing women and take them to Jupiter so they could marry the colonists. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Johnathan doesn't tell the Interstellar Cosmography Society about the twenty-seven women who are waiting to be rescued because...", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_9", "options": ["it is his way to get back at the women for dominating and humiliating him. ", "he wants to keep the women all to himself and enjoy their sexual overtures for the next three years. ", "he realizes that the Interstellar Cosmography Society would take advantage of the women, so he keeps their existence a secret in order to protect them. ", "he realizes that telling them would be futile since the Interstellar Cosmography Society's space cruiser only has space for one more passenger. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the most likely reason that Johnathan decides to stay on the asteroid?", "question_unique_id": "63401_ZCP5ZDGL_10", "options": ["He realizes that his life as a pilot was unfulfilling, and he doesn't want to go back. ", "He realizes that he'd rather stay with wild women than travel back with the posh Doctor Boynton. ", "He realizes that he wants to stay and enjoy sexual relations with the twenty-seven beautiful women. ", "He realizes that if he stays on the asteroid, he won't have to give up the tobacco seeds for experimentation and can grow and enjoy it himself. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/4/0/63401//63401-h//63401-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62476", "set_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1001", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Conspiracy on Callisto", "year": 1966, "author": "Pohl, Frederik", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Callisto (Satellite) -- Fiction; Amnesia -- Fiction; Adventure stories; Revolutions -- Fiction", "article": "Conspiracy on Callisto\nBy JAMES MacCREIGH\nRevolt was flaring on Callisto, and Peter Duane\n\n held the secret that would make the uprising a\n\n success or failure. Yet he could make no move,\n\n could favor no side—his memory was gone—he\n\n didn't know for whom he fought.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1943.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nDuane's hand flicked to his waist and hung there, poised. His dis-gun\n remained undrawn.\n\n\n The tall, white-haired man—Stevens—smiled.\n\n\n \"You're right, Duane,\" he said. \"I could blast you, too. Nobody would\n win that way, so let's leave the guns where they are.\"\n\n\n The muscles twitched in Peter Duane's cheeks, but his voice, when it\n came, was controlled. \"Don't think we're going to let this go,\" he\n said. \"We'll take it up with Andrias tonight. We'll see whether you can\n cut me out!\"\n\n\n The white-haired man's smile faded. He stepped forward, one hand\n bracing him against the thrust of the rocket engines underneath,\n holding to the guide rail at the side of the ship's corridor.\n\n\n He said, \"Duane, Andrias is your boss, not mine. I'm a free lance; I\n work for myself. When we land on Callisto tonight I'll be with you when\n you turn our—shall I say, our\ncargo\n?—over to him. And I'll collect\n my fair share of the proceeds. That's as far as it goes. I take no\n orders from him.\"\n\n\n A heavy-set man in blue appeared at the end of the connecting corridor.\n He was moving fast, but stopped short when he saw the two men.\n\n\n \"Hey!\" he said. \"Change of course—get to your cabins.\" He seemed about\n to walk up to them, then reconsidered and hurried off. Neither man paid\n any attention.\n\n\n Duane said, \"Do I have to kill you?\" It was only a question as he asked\n it, without threatening.\n\n\n A muted alarm bell sounded through the P.A. speakers, signaling a\n one-minute warning. The white-haired man cocked his eyebrow.\n\n\n \"Not at all,\" he said. He took the measure of his slim, red-headed\n opponent. Taller, heavier, older, he was still no more uncompromisingly\n belligerent than Duane, standing there. \"Not at all,\" he repeated.\n \"Just take your ten thousand and let it go at that. Don't make trouble.\n Leave Andrias out of our private argument.\"\n\n\n \"Damn you!\" Duane flared. \"I was promised fifty thousand. I need that\n money. Do you think—\"\n\n\n \"Forget what I think,\" Stevens said, his voice clipped and angry. \"I\n don't care about fairness, Duane, except to myself. I've done all the\n work on this—I've supplied the goods. My price is set, a hundred\n thousand Earth dollars. What Andrias promised you is no concern of\n mine. The fact is that, after I've taken my share, there's only ten\n thousand left. That's all you get!\"\n\n\n Duane stared at him a long second, then nodded abruptly. \"I was right\n the first time,\" he said. \"I'll\nhave\nto kill you!\"\nAlready his hand was streaking toward the grip of his dis-gun, touching\n it, drawing it forth. But the white-haired man was faster. His arms\n swept up and pinioned Duane, holding him impotent.\n\n\n \"Don't be a fool,\" he grated. \"Duane—\"\n\n\n The P.A. speaker rattled, blared something unintelligible. Neither man\n heard it. Duane lunged forward into the taller man's grip, sliding down\n to the floor. The white-haired man grappled furiously to keep his hold\n on Peter's gun arm, but Peter was slipping away. Belatedly, Stevens\n went for his own gun.\n\n\n He was too late. Duane's was out and leveled at him.\n\n\n \"\nNow\nwill you listen to reason?\" Duane panted. But he halted, and the\n muzzle of his weapon wavered. The floor swooped and surged beneath him\n as the thrust of the mighty jets was cut off. Suddenly there was no\n gravity. The two men, locked together, floated weightlessly out to the\n center of the corridor.\n\n\n \"Course change!\" gasped white-haired Stevens. \"Good God!\"\n\n\n The ship had reached the midpoint of its flight. The bells had sounded,\n warning every soul on it to take shelter, to strap themselves in their\n pressure bunks against the deadly stress of acceleration as the ship\n reversed itself and began to slow its headlong plunge into Callisto.\n But the two men had not heeded.\n\n\n The small steering rockets flashed briefly. The men were thrust\n bruisingly against the side of the corridor as the rocket spun lazily\n on its axis. The side jets flared once more to halt the spin, when the\n one-eighty turn was completed, and the men were battered against the\n opposite wall, still weightless, still clinging to each other, still\n struggling.\n\n\n Then the main-drive bellowed into life again, and the ship began to\n battle against its own built-up acceleration. The corridor floor rose\n up with blinking speed to smite them—\n\n\n And the lights went out in a burst of crashing pain for Peter Duane.\nSomeone was talking to him. Duane tried to force an eye open to see who\n it was, and failed. Something damp and clinging was all about his face,\n obscuring his vision. But the voice filtered in.\n\n\n \"Open your mouth,\" it said. \"Please, Peter, open your mouth. You're all\n right. Just swallow this.\"\n\n\n It was a girl's voice. Duane was suddenly conscious that a girl's light\n hand was on his shoulder. He shook his head feebly.\n\n\n The voice became more insistent. \"Swallow this,\" it said. \"It's only a\n stimulant, to help you throw off the shock of your—accident. You're\n all right, otherwise.\"\n\n\n Obediently he opened his mouth, and choked on a warm, tingly liquid.\n He managed to swallow it, and lay quiet as deft feminine hands did\n something to his face. Suddenly light filtered through his closed\n eyelids, and cool air stirred against his damp face.\n\n\n He opened his eyes. A slight red-headed girl in white nurse's uniform\n was standing there. She stepped back a pace, a web of wet gauze bandage\n in her hands, looking at him.\n\n\n \"Hello,\" he whispered. \"You—where am I?\"\n\n\n \"In the sick bay,\" she said. \"You got caught out when the ship changed\n course. Lucky you weren't hurt, Peter. The man you were with—the old,\n white-haired one, Stevens—wasn't so lucky. He was underneath when the\n jets went on. Three ribs broken—his lung was punctured. He died in the\n other room an hour ago.\"\n\n\n Duane screwed his eyes tight together and grimaced. When he opened\n them again there was alertness and clarity in them—but there was also\n bafflement.\n\n\n \"Girl,\" he said, \"who are you? Where am I?\"\n\n\n \"Peter!\" There was shock and hurt in the tone of her voice. \"I'm—don't\n you know me, Peter?\"\n\n\n Duane shook his head confusedly. \"I don't know anything,\" he said.\n \"I—I don't even know my own name.\"\n\n\n \"Duane, Duane,\" a man's heavy voice said. \"That won't wash. Don't play\n dumb on me.\"\n\n\n \"Duane?\" he said. \"Duane....\" He swiveled his head and saw a dark,\n squat man frowning at him. \"Who are you?\" Peter asked.\n\n\n The dark man laughed. \"Take your time, Duane,\" he said easily. \"You'll\n remember me. My name's Andrias. I've been waiting here for you to wake\n up. We have some business matters to discuss.\"\n\n\n The nurse, still eyeing Duane with an odd bewilderment, said: \"I'll\n leave you alone for a moment. Don't talk too much to him, Mr. Andrias.\n He's still suffering from shock.\"\n\n\n \"I won't,\" Andrias promised, grinning. Then, as the girl left the room,\n the smile dropped from his face.\n\n\n \"You play rough, Duane,\" he observed. \"I thought you'd have trouble\n with Stevens. I didn't think you'd find it necessary to put him out of\n the way so permanently. Well, no matter. If you had to kill him, it's\n no skin off my nose. Give me a release on the merchandise. I've got\n your money here.\"\nDuane waved a hand and pushed himself dizzily erect, swinging his legs\n over the side of the high cot. A sheet had been thrown over him, but he\n was fully dressed. He examined his clothing with interest—gray tunic,\n gray leather spaceman's boots. It was unfamiliar.\n\n\n He shook his head in further confusion, and the motion burst within his\n skull, throbbing hotly. He closed his eyes until it subsided, trying to\n force his brain to operate, to explain to him where and what he was.\n\n\n He looked at the man named Andrias.\n\n\n \"Nobody seems to believe me,\" he said, \"but I really don't know what's\n going on. Things are moving too fast for me. Really, I—why, I don't\n even know my own name! My head—it hurts. I can't think clearly.\"\n\n\n Andrias straightened, turned a darkly-suspicious look on Duane. \"Don't\n play tricks on me,\" he said savagely. \"I haven't time for them. I won't\n mince words with you. Give me a release on the cargo now, before I have\n to get rough. This is a lot more important to me than your life is.\"\n\n\n \"Go to hell,\" Duane said shortly. \"I'm playing no tricks.\"\n\n\n There was an instant's doubt in Andrias' eyes, then it flashed away. He\n bent closer, peered at Duane. \"I almost think—\" he began.\n\n\n Then he shook his head. \"No,\" he said. \"You're lying all right. You\n killed Stevens to get his share—and now you're trying to hold me up.\n That's your last chance that just went by, Duane. From now on, I'm\n running this show!\"\n\n\n He spun around and strode to the door, thrust it open. \"Dakin!\" he\n bellowed. \"Reed!\"\n\n\n Two large, ugly men in field-gray uniforms, emblazoned with the\n shooting-star insignia of Callisto's League police, came in, looking to\n Andrias for instructions.\n\n\n \"Duane here is resisting arrest,\" Andrias said. \"Take him along. We'll\n fix up the charges later.\"\n\n\n \"You can't do that,\" Duane said wearily. \"I'm sick. If you've got\n something against me, save it. Wait till my head clears. I'm sure I can\n explain—\"\n\n\n \"Explain, hell.\" The dark man laughed. \"If I wait, this ship will be\n blasting off for Ganymede within two hours. I'll wait—but so will the\n ship. It's not going anywhere till I give it clearance. I run Callisto;\n I'll give the orders here!\"\nII\n\n\n Whoever this man Andrias was, thought Duane, he was certainly a man of\n importance on Callisto. As he had said,\nhe\ngave the orders.\n\n\n The crew of the rocket made no objection when Andrias and his men took\n Duane off without a word. Duane had thought the nurse, who seemed a\n good enough sort, might have said something on his behalf. But she was\n out of sight as they left. A curt sentence to a gray-clad official on\n the blast field where the rocket lay, and the man nodded and hurried\n off, to tell the rocket's captain that the ship was being refused\n clearance indefinitely.\n\n\n A long, powerful ground car slid up before them. Andrias got in front,\n while the two uniformed men shoved Duane into the back of the car,\n climbed in beside him. Andrias gave a curt order, and the car shot\n forward.\n\n\n The driver, sitting beside Andrias, leaned forward and readied a hand\n under the dashboard. The high wail of a siren came instantly from the\n car's roof, and what traffic was on the broad, straight highway into\n which they had turned pulled aside to let them race through.\n\n\n Ahead lay the tall spires of a city. Graceful, hundreds of feet high,\n they seemed dreamlike yet somehow oddly familiar to Duane. Somewhere\n he had seen them before. He dragged deep into his mind, plumbing the\n cloudy, impenetrable haze that had settled on it, trying to bring forth\n the memories that he should have had. Amnesia, they called it; complete\n forgetting of the happenings of a lifetime. He'd heard of it—but never\n dreamed it could happen to him!\nMy name, it seems, is Peter Duane\n, he thought.\nAnd they tell me that\n I killed a man!\nThe thought was starkly incredible to him. A white-haired man, it had\n been; someone named Stevens. He tried to remember.\n\n\n Yes, there had been a white-haired man. And there had been an argument.\n Something to do with money, with a shipment of goods that Stevens had\n supplied to Duane. There has even been talk of killing....\n\n\n But—murder! Duane looked at his hands helplessly.\n\n\n Andrias, up ahead, was turning around. He looked sharply at Duane, for\n a long second. An uncertainty clouded his eyes, and abruptly he looked\n forward again without speaking.\n\n\n \"Who's this man Andrias?\" Duane whispered to the nearest guard.\n\n\n The man stared at him. \"Governor Andrias,\" he said, \"is the League's\n deputy on Callisto. You know—the Earth-Mars League. They put Governor\n Andrias here to—well, to govern for them.\"\n\n\n \"League?\" Duane asked, wrinkling his brow. He had heard something about\n a League once, yes. But it was all so nebulous....\n\n\n The other guard stirred, leaned over. \"Shut up,\" he said heavily.\n \"You'll have plenty of chance for talking later.\"\nBut the chance was a long time in coming. Duane found himself, an hour\n later, still in the barred room into which he'd been thrust. The guards\n had brought him there, at Andrias' order, and left him. That had been\n all.\n\n\n This was not a regular jail, Duane realized. It was more like a\n palace, something out of Earth's Roman-empire days, all white stone\n and frescoed walls. Duane wished for human companionship—particularly\n that of the nurse. Of all the people he'd met since awakening in that\n hospital bed, only she seemed warm and human. The others were—brutal,\n deadly. It was too bad, Duane reflected, that he'd failed to remember\n her. She'd seemed hurt, and she had certainly known him by first name.\n But perhaps she would understand.\n\n\n Duane sat down on a lumpy, sagging bed and buried his head in his\n hands. Dim ghosts of memory were wandering in his mind. He tried to\n conjure them into stronger relief, or to exorcise them entirely.\n\n\n Somewhere, some time, a man had said to him, \"\nAndrias is secretly\n arming the Callistan cutthroats for revolt against the League. He wants\n personal power—he's prepared to pay any price for it. He needs guns,\n Earth guns smuggled in through the League patrol. If he can wipe out\n the League police garrison—those who are loyal to the League, still,\n instead of to Andrias—he can sit back and laugh at any fleet Earth and\n Mars can send. Rockets are clumsy in an atmosphere. They're helpless.\n And if he can arm enough of Callisto's rabble, he can't be stopped.\n That's why he'll pay for electron rifles with their weight in gold.\n\"\n\n\n Duane could remember the scene clearly. Could almost see the sharp,\n aquiline face of the man who had spoken to him. But there memory\n stopped.\n\n\n A fugitive recollection raced through his mind. He halted it, dragged\n it back, pinned it down....\n\n\n They had stopped in Darkside, the spaceport on the side of Luna that\n keeps perpetually averted from Earth, as if the moon knows shame and\n wants to hide the rough and roaring dome city that nestles in one\n of the great craters. Duane remembered sitting in a low-ceilinged,\n smoke-heavy room, across the table from a tall man with white hair.\n Stevens!\n\n\n \"\nFour thousand electron rifles\n,\" the man had said. \"\nLatest\n government issue. Never mind how I got them; they're perfect. You know\n my price. Take it or leave it. And it's payable the minute we touch\n ground on Callisto.\n\"\n\n\n There had been a few minutes of haggling over terms, then a handshake\n and a drink from a thin-necked flagon of pale-yellow liquid fire.\n\n\n He and the white-haired man had gone out then, made their way by\n unfrequented side streets to a great windowless building. Duane\n remembered the white-hot stars overhead, shining piercingly through\n the great transparent dome that kept the air in the sealed city of\n Darkside, as they stood at the entrance of the warehouse and spoke in\n low tones to the man who answered their summons.\n\n\n Then, inside. And they were looking at a huge chamber full of stacked\n fiber boxes—containing nothing but dehydrated dairy products and\n mining tools, by the stencils they bore. Duane had turned to the\n white-haired man with a puzzled question—and the man had laughed aloud.\n\n\n He dragged one of the boxes down, ripped it open with the sharp point\n of a handling hook. Short-barreled, flare-mouthed guns rolled out,\n tumbling over the floor. Eight of them were in that one box, and\n hundreds of boxes all about. Duane picked one up, broke it, peered into\n the chamber where the tiny capsule of U-235 would explode with infinite\n violence when the trigger was pulled, spraying radiant death three\n thousand yards in the direction the gun was aimed....\n\n\n And that memory ended.\n\n\n Duane got up, stared at his haggard face in the cracked mirror over\n the bed. \"\nThey say I'm a killer\n,\" he thought. \"\nApparently I'm a\n gun-runner as well. Good lord—what am I not?\n\"\n\n\n His reflection—white, drawn face made all the more pallid by the red\n hair that blazed over it—stared back at him. There was no answer\n there. If only he could remember—\n\n\n \"All right, Duane.\" The deep voice of a guard came to him as the door\n swung open. \"Stop making eyes at yourself.\"\n\n\n Duane looked around. The guard beckoned. \"Governor Andrias wants to\n speak to you—now. Let's not keep the governor waiting.\"\nA long, narrow room, with a long carpet leading from the entrance up to\n a great heavy desk—that was Andrias' office. Duane felt a click in his\n memory as he entered. One of the ancient Earth dictators had employed\n just such a psychological trick to overawe those who came to beg favors\n of him. Muslini, or some such name.\n\n\n The trick failed to work. Duane had other things on his mind; he walked\n the thirty-foot length of the room, designed to imbue him with a sense\n of his own unimportance, as steadily as he'd ever walked in the open\n air of his home planet.\n\n\n Whichever planet that was.\n\n\n The guard had remained just inside the door, at attention. Andrias\n waved him out.\n\n\n \"Here I am,\" said Duane. \"What do you want?\"\n\n\n Andrias said, \"I've had the ship inspected and what I want is on it.\n That saves your life, for now. But the cargo is in your name. I could\n take it by force, if I had to. I prefer not to.\" He picked up a paper,\n handed it to Duane. \"In spite of your behavior, you can keep alive.\n You can even collect the money for the guns—Stevens' share as well\n as your own. This is a release form, authorizing my men to take four\n hundred and twenty cases of dehydrated foods and drilling supplies from\n the hold of the\nCameroon\n—the ship you came on. Sign it, and we'll\n forget our argument. Only, sign it now and get it over with. I'm losing\n patience, Duane.\"\n\n\n Duane said, without expression, \"No.\"\n\n\n Dark red flooded into Andrias' sallow face. His jaws bunched angrily\n and there was a ragged thread of incomplete control to his voice as he\n spoke.\n\n\n \"I'll have your neck for this, Duane,\" he said softly.\n\n\n Duane looked at the man's eyes. Death was behind them, peeping out.\n Mentally he shrugged. What difference did it make?\n\n\n \"Give me the pen,\" he said shortly.\n\n\n Andrias exhaled a deep breath. You could see the tension leave him, the\n mottled anger fade from his face and leave it without expression. He\n handed the paper to Duane without a word. He gave him a pen, watched\n him scrawl his name.\n\n\n \"That,\" he said, \"is better.\" He paused a moment ruminatively. \"It\n would have been better still if you'd not stalled me so long. I find\n that hard to forgive in my associates.\"\n\n\n \"The money,\" Peter said. If he were playing a part—pretending he knew\n what he was doing—he might as well play it to the hilt. \"When do I get\n it?\"\n\n\n Andrias picked up the paper and looked carefully at the signature. He\n creased it thoughtfully, stowed it in a pocket before answering.\n\n\n \"Naturally,\" he said, \"there will have to be a revision of terms. I\n offered a hundred and ten thousand Earth-dollars. I would have paid\n it—but you made me angry. You'll have to pay for that.\"\nDuane said, \"I've paid already. I've been dragged from pillar to post\n by you. That's enough. Pay me what you owe me, if you want any more of\n the same goods!\"\n\n\n That was a shot in the dark—and it missed the mark.\n\n\n Andrias' eyes widened. \"You amaze me, Duane,\" he said. He rose and\n stepped around the desk, confronting Duane. \"I almost think you really\n have lost your memory, Duane,\" he said. \"Otherwise, surely you would\n know that this is all the rifles I need. With them I'll\ntake\nwhatever\n else I want!\"\n\n\n Duane said, \"You're ready, then....\"\n\n\n He took time to think it over, but he knew that no thought was\n required. Already the hands that he had locked behind him were\n clenched, taut. Already the muscles of his legs were tensing.\n\n\n \"You're ready,\" he repeated. \"You've armed the Callistan exiles—the\n worst gutter scum on nine planets. You're set to betray the League that\n gave you power here.... Well, that changes things. I can't let you do\n it!\"\n\n\n He hurled himself at Andrias, hands sweeping around to grapple for the\n dark man's throat. Andrias, off-balance, staggered backward. But his\n own hands were diving for the twin heat guns that hung at his waist.\n\n\n Duane saw his danger, and reacted. His foot twisted around Andrias'\n ankle; his hands at the other's throat gripped tighter. He lunged\n forward, slamming the hard top of his head into the other's face,\n feeling flesh and cartilage give as Andrias' nose mashed flat. His own\n head pin-wheeled dizzily, agonizingly, as the jar revived the pain of\n his earlier accident.\n\n\n But Andrias, unconscious already, tumbled back with Duane on top of\n him. His head made an audible, spine-chilling thud as it hit the\n carpeted floor.\n\n\n Duane got up, retrieving the two heat guns, and stared at him.\n\n\n \"\nThey tell me I killed Stevens the same way\n,\" he thought. \"\nI'm\n getting in a rut!\n\"\n\n\n But Andrias was not dead, though he was out as cold as the void beyond\n Pluto. The thick carpeting had saved him from a broken head.\n\n\n Duane stepped over the unconscious man and looked around the room. It\n was furnished severely, to the point of barrenness. Two chairs before\n Andrias' ornate, bare-topped desk and one luxurious chair behind it;\n a tasseled bell cord within easy reach of Andrias' chair; the long\n carpet. That was all it contained.\n\n\n The problem of getting out was serious, he saw. How could one—\nIII\n\n\n Methodically he ransacked the drawers of Andrias' desk. Papers, a\n whole arsenal of hand guns, Callistan money by the bale, ominously\n black-covered notebooks with cryptic figures littering their\n pages—those were the contents. A coldly impersonal desk, without the\n familiar trivia most men accumulate. There was nothing, certainly, that\n would get him out of a building that so closely resembled a fortress.\n\n\n He tumbled the things back into the drawers helter-skelter, turned\n Andrias over and searched his pockets. More money—the man must have\n had a fortune within reach at all times—and a few meaningless papers.\n Duane took the release he had signed and tore it to shreds. But that\n was only a gesture. When Andrias came to, unless Duane had managed to\n get away and accomplish something, the mere lack of written permission\n would not keep him from the rocket's lethal cargo!\n\n\n When Andrias came to....\n\n\n An idea bloomed in Duane's brain. He looked, then, at unconscious\n Andrias—and the idea withered again.\n\n\n He had thought of forcing Andrias himself to front for him, at gun's\n point, in the conventional manner of escaping prisoners. But fist\n fights, fiction to the contrary notwithstanding, leave marks on the men\n who lose them. Andrias' throat was speckled with the livid marks of\n Duane's fingers; Duane's head, butting Andrias in the face, had drawn a\n thick stream of crimson from his nostrils, turned his sharp nose askew.\n\n\n No guard of Andrias' would have been deceived for an instant, looking\n at that face—even assuming that Andrias could have been forced to\n cooperate by the threat of a gun. Which, considering the stake Andrias\n had in this play, was doubtful....\n\n\n He stood up and looked around. He had to act quickly. Already Andrias'\n breath was audible; he saw the man grimace and an arm flopped\n spasmodically on the floor. Consciousness was on its way back.\n\n\n Duane touched the heat gun he'd thrust into his belt; drew it and held\n it poised, while he sought to discover what was in his own mind. He'd\n killed a man already, they said. Was he then a killer—could he shoot\n Andrias now, in cold blood, with so much to gain and nothing to lose?\n\n\n He stood there a moment. Then, abruptly, he reversed the weapon and\n chopped it down on Andrias' skull.\n\n\n There was a sharp grunt from the still unconscious man, but no other\n sign. Only—the first tremors of movement that had shown on him halted,\n and did not reappear.\n\n\n \"\nNo\n,\" Duane thought. \"\nWhatever they say, I'm not a killer!\n\"\n\n\n But still he had to get out. How?\n\n\n Once more he stared around the room, catalogued its contents. The guard\n would be getting impatient. Perhaps any minute he would tap the door,\n first timorously, then with heavier strokes.\n\n\n The guard! There was a way!\nDuane eyed the length of the room. Thirty feet—it would take him a\n couple of seconds to run it at full speed. Was that fast enough?\n\n\n There was only one way to find out.\n\n\n He walked around the desk to the bell cord. He took a deep breath,\n tugged it savagely, and at once was in speedy motion, racing toward the\n door, his footsteps muffled in the deep, springy carpet. Almost as he\n reached it, he saw it begin to open. He quickly sidestepped and was out\n of the guard's sight, behind the door, as the man looked in.\n\n\n Quick suspicion flared in his eyes, then certainty as he saw Andrias\n huddled on the floor. He opened his mouth to cry out—\n\n\n But Duane's arm was around his throat, and he had no breath to spare.\n Duane's foot lashed out and the door slammed shut; Duane's balled left\n fist came up and connected with the guard's chin. Abruptly the man\n slumped.\n\n\n Duane took a deep breath and let the man drop to the floor. But he\n paused only a second; now he had two unconscious men on his hands and\n he dared let neither revive until he was prepared.\n\n\n He grasped the guard's arm and dragged him roughly the length of the\n room. He leaped on top of the desk, brutally scarring its gleaming top\n with the hard spikes of his boots. His agile fingers unfastened the\n long bell cord without causing it to ring and, bearing it, he dropped\n again to the floor.\n\n\n Tugging and straining, he got the limp form of Andrias into his own\n chair, bound him with the bell cord, gagged him with the priceless\n Venus-wool scarf Andrias wore knotted about his throat. He tested his\n bindings with full strength, and smiled. Those would hold, let Andrias\n struggle as he would.\n\n\n The guard he stripped of clothing, bound and gagged with his own\n belt and spaceman's kerchief. He dragged him around behind the desk,\n thrust him under it out of sight. Andrias' chair he turned so that the\n unconscious face was averted from the door. Should anyone look in,\n then, the fact of Andrias' unconsciousness might not be noticed.\n\n\n Then he took off his own clothes, quickly assumed the field-gray\n uniform of the guard. It fit like the skin of a fruit. He felt himself\n bulging out of it in a dozen places. The long cape the guard wore would\n conceal that, perhaps. In any case, there was nothing better.\n\n\n Trying to make his stride as martial as possible, he walked down the\n long carpet to the door, opened it and stepped outside.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why is course change dangerous?", "question_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ_1", "options": ["Because if one not strapped down, they are at the mercy of zero gravity and high speeds.", "Because even though the ship retains it's gravity, it moves at high speeds in which one can have a deadly fall or crash. ", "Because if one is not in the pressure bunks, they can go unconscious, get extremely ill, or even die from the extreme pressure. ", "Because due to the intense power that change course requires, the lights in the ship go out and if one isn't strapped down they might accidentally fall or crash. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Did Duane actually kill Stevens? How do you know?", "question_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ_2", "options": ["No, because even though he was attempting to kill Stevens, he blacked out before he had the chance.  ", "No, because the nurse said that Stevens died  of a head injury an hour before Duane woke up. ", "Yes, because once Duane woke up with amnesia, Andrias told him that he had killed Stevens. ", "Yes, because he shot Stevens with his dis-gun just before he blacked out. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The red headed woman is most likely Duane's...", "question_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ_3", "options": ["regular nurse", "mother", "friend/girlfriend", "coworker"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why didn't Duane and Stevens go to the pressure bunks when they announced the course change?", "question_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ_4", "options": ["They didn't hear the announcement because they were fighting. ", "They each thought they had time to kill the other before the course change started. ", "They thought they were skilled enough to weather the course change outside the bunks. ", "They didn't think the heavy-set man in blue knew what he was talking about. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Duane want to kill Stevens?", "question_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ_5", "options": ["Because Stevens is completely cutting Duane out of the deal.  ", "Because Duane knows it's the only way to cut Stevens out of the deal. ", "Because Stevens was only letting Duane have fifty thousand dollars from their deal even though he was originally promised a hundred thousand. ", "Because Stevens was only letting Duane have ten thousand dollars from their deal even though he was originally promised fifty thousand. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Andrias want to arm his people?", "question_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ_6", "options": ["So that they can defend themselves against the League's imminent attack. ", "So that he can develop a well trained army on Castillo that can help the League fight against its enemies. ", "To overthrow the League and seize power for himself. ", "To overthrow the League and end their oppression of the people on Castillo. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is Adrian's office so long and narrow, and why there a long carpet leading up to Adrian's desk?", "question_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ_7", "options": ["The layout of the office is a psychological trick meant to intimidate those who enter. ", "It's the standard design for the offices of League deputies. ", "The design is luxurious and makes Adrian feel like a successful governor. ", "The layout imitates the design of the League's president's office, and Adrian aspires to become president of the League. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Adrian think the Callistans will be willing to fight against the league?", "question_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ_8", "options": ["Because he's threatened to imprison them. ", "Because he's threatened to kill them.", "A combination of of A and C. ", "Because they are the League's exiles and are of low moral character. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the amnesia change Duane's mind about letting Andrias have the guns?", "question_unique_id": "62476_Z8GFDCIZ_9", "options": ["It makes him forget why he so desperately needed the money from Andrias.  ", "It gives him perspective on the how malicious and self-centered his past actions were. ", "It makes him forget his former hatred for the League. ", "A combination of both B and C. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/4/7/62476//62476-h//62476-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "52845", "set_unique_id": "52845_91NAQ9LY", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Girl in His Mind", "year": 1950, "author": "Young, Robert F.", "topic": "Guilt -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Psychological fiction", "article": "THE GIRL IN HIS MIND\nBy ROBERT F. YOUNG\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of Tomorrow April 1963\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nEvery man's mind is a universe with countless\n\n places in which he can hide—even from himself!\nThe dance that the chocoletto girl was performing was an expurgated\n version of the kylee sex ritual which the Louave maidens of Dubhe 7\n practiced on the eve of their betrothal. Expurgated or not, however,\n it was still on the lascivious side. The G-string that constituted\n the chocoletto girl's entire costume put her but one degree above the\n nakedness which the original dance demanded. Nathan Blake's voice was\n slightly thick when he summoned the waiter who was hovering in the\n shadows at the back of the room. \"Is she free?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"I do not know, mensakin. Perhaps.\"\n\n\n Blake resumed watching. The girl's movements were a delicate blend of\n love and lust. Her face accompanied her body, eyes half-lidded one\n moment to match the languid motion of her limbs, wide and feral the\n next to match the furious bump and grind of her hips. For a chocoletto\n she was light-skinned—more bronze, really, than brown. But then,\n the word \"chocoletto\", coined by the early beche-la-mer traders, was\n misleading, and few of the natives of Dubhe 4's southern-most continent\n lived up to it completely.\n\n\n She was beautiful too. Her high-cheekboned face was striking—the eyes\n dark-brown and wide-apart, the mouth sensuous, the teeth showing in a\n vivid white line between the half-parted purple lips. And her body was\n splendid. Blake had never seen anyone quite like her.\n\n\n He beckoned to her when the dance was over and, after slipping into\n a white thigh-length tunic, she joined him at his table. She ordered\n Martian wine in a liquid voice, and sipped it with a finesse that\n belied her cannibalistic forebears. \"You wish a night?\" she asked.\n\n\n Blake nodded. \"If you are free.\"\n\n\n \"Three thousand quandoes.\"\n\n\n He did not haggle, but counted out the amount and handed it to her. She\n slipped the bills into a thigh sheath-purse, told him her hut number\n and stood up to leave. \"I will meet you there in an hour,\" she said.\nHer hut was as good a place to wait for her as any. After buying a\n bottle of native whiskey at the bar, Blake went out into the Dubhe 4\n night and made his way through the labyrinthine alleys of the native\n sector. In common with all chocoletto huts, Eldoria's was uncared for\n on the outside, and gave a false impression of poverty. He expected to\n find the usual hanger-on waiting in the anteroom, and looked forward to\n booting him out into the alley. Instead he found a young girl—\n\n\n A human girl.\n\n\n He paused in the doorway. The girl was sitting cross-legged on a small\n mat, a book open on her lap. Xenophon's\nAnabasis\n. Her hair made him\n think of the copper-colored sunrises of Norma 9 and her eyes reminded\n him of the blue tarns of Fornax 6. \"Come in,\" she said.\n\n\n After closing the door, he sat down opposite her on the guest mat.\n Behind her, a gaudy arras hid the hut's other room. \"You are here to\n wait for Eldoria?\" she asked.\n\n\n Blake nodded. \"And you?\"\n\n\n She laughed. \"I am here because I live here,\" she said.\n\n\n He tried to assimilate the information, but could not. Perceiving his\n difficulty, the girl went on, \"My parents indentured themselves to the\n Great Starway Cartel and were assigned to the rubber plantations of\n Dubhe 4. They died of yellow-water dysentery before their indenture ran\n out, and in accordance with Interstellar Law I was auctioned off along\n with the rest of their possessions. Eldoria bought me.\"\n\n\n Five years as a roving psycheye had hardened Blake to commercial\n colonization practices; nevertheless, he found the present example of\n man's inhumanity to man sickening.\n\n\n \"How old are you?\" Blake asked.\n\n\n \"Fourteen.\"\n\n\n \"And what are you going to be when you grow up?\"\n\n\n \"Probably I shall be a psychiatrist. Eldoria is sending me to the\n mission school now, and afterward she is going to put me through an\n institute of higher learning. And when I come of age, she is going to\n give me my freedom.\"\n\n\n \"I see,\" Blake said. He indicated the book on her lap. \"Homework?\"\n\n\n She shook her head. \"In addition to my courses at the mission school, I\n am studying the humanities.\"\n\n\n \"Xenophon,\" Blake said. \"And I suppose Plato too.\"\n\n\n \"And Homer and Virgil and Aeschylus and Euripides and all the rest of\n them. When I grow up I shall be a most well-educated person.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sure you will be,\" Blake said, looking at the arras.\n\n\n \"My name is Deirdre.\"\n\n\n \"Nathan,\" Blake said. \"Nathan Blake.\"\n\n\n \"Eldoria will be arriving soon. I must go and prepare her dais.\"\nShe got up, parted the arras, and slipped into the next room. Shame\n flamed in Blake's cheeks, and for a moment he considered leaving; then\n he remembered Eldoria's dance, and he went right on sitting where he\n was.\n\n\n Presently the girl returned, and not long afterward the cloying scent\n of native incense crept beneath the arras and permeated the anteroom.\n She sat sideways on the mat this time, and he caught her face in\n profile. There was a suggestion of saintliness in the line of the nose\n and chin, a suggestion made all the more poignant by the slender column\n of the neck. He shifted uncomfortably on the guest mat. She had taken\n up the\nAnabasis\nagain, and silence was pounding silent fists upon the\n walls.\n\n\n He was relieved when Eldoria finally arrived. She ushered him into\n the next room immediately. It was slightly larger than the anteroom,\n and much more richly appointed. A thick carpet the color of Martian\n waterways lay upon the floor, contrasting pleasantly with the golden\n tapestries that adorned all four walls. The sleeping dais was oval\n and took up nearly half the floor space. It was strewn with scarlet\n cushions.\n\n\n Blake sat down upon it. Nervously he watched Eldoria slip out of her\n white street robe, his eyes moving back and forth from her smooth dark\n skin to the arras. The incense thickened around him.\n\n\n She noticed the back-and-forth movement of his eyes. \"You need not fear\n the little one,\" she said, laying her hand upon his knee. \"She will not\n enter.\"\n\n\n \"It's not that so much,\" Blake said.\n\n\n \"What?\" The warm bronze shoulder was touching his....\n\n\n He rose up once in the night, thinking to find his hotel bed. His next\n awakening was in the grayness of dawn, and he got up and dressed and\n moved silently to the doorway. The girl slept just without the arras on\n a thin sleeping-mat, and he had to step over her to gain the anteroom.\n In sleep, a strand of her copper-colored hair had tumbled down across\n her forehead and lay like a lovely flower upon the virginal whiteness\n of her skin. There was something saintly about her quiet face.\n\n\n When he reached the alley he began to run, and he did not stop running\n till the chocoletto sector was far behind him.\nThe hill was a memory-image and Aldebaran 12 rain-country hills were\n notoriously steep. Blake was breathing hard when he reached the crest.\n\n\n Before him lay a memory-image of a section of Deneb 1 wasteland. The\n image extended for no more than half a mile, but Blake was annoyed\n that he should have remembered even that much of the wretched terrain.\n Ideally, a man's mind-country should have been comprised only of the\n places and times he wanted to remember. Practically, however, that was\n far from being the case.\n\n\n He glanced back down into the rain-pocked valley that he had just\n crossed. The rain and the mist made for poor visibility. He could only\n faintly distinguish the three figures of his pursuers. The trio seemed\n a little closer now.\nEver since he had first set foot into his mind, some ten hours ago,\n they had been on his trail, but for some reason he had been unable\n to bring himself to go back and find out who they were and what they\n wanted. Hence he was as vexed with himself as he was with them.\n\n\n After resting for a few minutes, he descended the hill and started\n across the Deneb 1 wasteland. It was a remarkably detailed\n materialization, and his quarry's footprints stood out clearly in the\n duplicated sand.\n\n\n Sabrina York did not even know the rudiments of the art of throwing\n off a mind-tracker. It would have done her but little good if she\n had, for twelve years as a psycheye had taught Blake all the tricks.\n Probably she had taken it for granted that the mere act of hiding out\n in her tracker's mind was in itself a sufficient guarantee of her\n safety. After all, she had no way of knowing that he had discovered her\n presence.\n\n\n Mind-country was as temporally inconsecutive as it was topographically\n incongruous, so Blake was not surprised when the Deneb 1 wasteland gave\n way to an expanse of boyhood meadow. Near the meadow was the house\n where Blake had lived at a much later date. In reality, the places were\n as far apart in miles as they were in years, but here in the country\n of his mind they existed side by side, surrounded by heterogeneous\n landscapes from all over the civilized sector of the galaxy and by the\n sharply demarcated spectra of a hundred different suns. A few of the\n suns were in the patchwork sky—Sirius, for example, and its twinkling\n dwarf companion. Most of them, however, were present only in their\n remembered radiance. To add to the confusion, scattered night memories\n interrupted the hodge-podge horizon with columns of darkness, and here\n and there the gray column of a dawn or dusk memory showed.\n\n\n The house was flanked on one side by a section of a New Earth spaceport\n and on the other by an excerpt of an Ex-earth city-block. Behind it\n flowed a brief blue stretch of Martian waterway.\n\n\n Sabrina's footsteps led up to the front door, and the door itself was\n ajar. Perhaps she was still inside. Perhaps she was watching him even\n now through one of the remembered windows. He scanned them with a\n professional eye, but saw no sign of her.\n\n\n Warily he stepped inside, adjusting the temperature of his all-weather\n jacket to the remembered air-conditioning. His father was sitting in\n the living room, smoking, and watching 3V. He had no awareness of\n Blake. At Blake's entry he went right on smoking and watching as though\n the door had neither opened nor closed. He would go right on smoking\n and watching till Blake died and the conglomeration of place-times\n that constituted Blake's mind-world ceased to be. Ironically, he was\n watching nothing. The 3V program that had been in progress at the time\n of the unconscious materialization had failed to come through.\nThe memory was a treasured one—the old man had perished in a 'copter\n crash several years ago—and for a long while Blake did not move.\n He had never been in his own mind before. Consequently he was more\n affected than he might otherwise have been. Finally, stirring himself,\n he walked out into the kitchen. On a shelf above the sink stood a gaily\n colored box of his mother's favorite detergent with a full-length\n drawing of Vera Velvetskin, the company's blond and chic visual symbol,\n on the front. His mother was standing before the huge automatic range,\n preparing a meal she had served twenty-three years ago. He regarded her\n with moist eyes. She had died a dozen years before his father, but the\n wound that her death had caused had never healed. He wanted to go up\n behind her and touch her shoulder and say, \"What's for supper, mom?\"\n but he knew it would do no good. For her he had no reality, not only\n because he was far in her future, but because in his mind-world she was\n a mortal and he, a god—a picayune god, perhaps, but a real one.\n\n\n As he was about to turn away, the name-plate on the range caught his\n eye, and thinking that he had read the two words wrong, he stepped\n closer so that he could see them more clearly. No, he had made no\n mistake: the first word was \"Sabrina\", and the second was \"York\".\n\n\n He stepped back. Odd that a kitchen range should have the same name as\n his quarry. But perhaps not unduly so. Giving appliances human names\n had been common practice for centuries. Even a name like \"Sabrina\n York\", while certainly not run-of-the-mill, was bound to be duplicated\n in real life. Nevertheless a feeling of uneasiness accompanied him when\n he left the kitchen and climbed the stairs to the second floor.\n\n\n He went through each room systematically, but saw no sign of Sabrina\n York. He lingered for some time in his own room, wistfully watching his\n fifteen-year-old self lolling on the bed with a dog-eared copy of\nThe\n Galaxy Boys and the Secret of the Crab Nebula\n, then he stepped back\n out into the hall and started to descend the stairs.\n\n\n At the head of the stairs a narrow window looked out over the front\n yard and thence out over the meadow. He glanced absently through the\n panes, and came to an abrupt halt. His three pursuers were wading\n through the long meadow grass less than a quarter of a mile away—not\n close enough as yet for him to be able to make out their faces, but\n close enough for him to be able to see that two of them were wearing\n dresses and that the third had on a blue skirt and blouse, and a kepi\n to match. He gasped. It simply hadn't occurred to him that his pursuers\n might be women. To his consternation he discovered that he was even\n more loath to go back and accost them than he had been before. He\n actually had an impulse to flee.\n\n\n He controlled it and descended the stairs with exaggerated slowness,\n leaving the house by way of the back door. He picked up Sabrina's trail\n in the back yard and followed it down to the Martian waterway and\n thence along the bank to where the waterway ended and a campus began.\n Not the campus of the university which he had visited two days ago to\n attend his protegee's graduation. It was not a place-time that he cared\n to revisit, nor a moment that he cared to relive, but Sabrina's trail\n led straight across the artificially stunted grass toward the little\n bench where he and Deirdre Eldoria had come to talk after the ceremony\n was over. He had no choice.\nThe bench stood beneath a towering American elm whose feathery branches\n traced green arabesques against the blue June sky. A set of footprints\n slightly deeper than its predecessors indicated that Sabrina had\n paused by the trunk. Despite himself Blake paused there too. Pain\n tightened his throat when he looked at Deirdre's delicate profile\n and copper-colored hair, intensified when he lowered his eyes to the\n remembered blueness of her graduation dress. The diamond brooch that he\n had given her as a graduation present, and which she had proudly pinned\n upon her bodice for the whole wide world to see, made him want to\n cry. His self-image of two weeks ago shocked him. There were lines on\n the face that did not as yet exist, and the brown hair was shot with\n streaks of gray that had yet to come into being. Lord, he must have\n been feeling old to have pictured himself like that!\n\n\n Deirdre was speaking. \"Yes,\" she was saying, \"at nine o'clock. And I\n should very much like for you to come.\"\n\n\n Blake Past shook his head. \"Proms aren't for parents. You know that\n as well as I do. That young man you were talking with a few minutes\n ago—he's the one who should take you. He'd give his right arm for the\n chance.\"\n\n\n \"I'll thank you not to imply that you're my father. One would think\n from the way you talk that you are centuries old!\"\n\n\n \"I'm thirty-eight,\" Blake Past said, \"and while I may not be your\n father, I'm certainly old enough to be. That young man—\"\n\n\n A pink flush of anger climbed into Deirdre Eldoria's girlish cheeks.\n \"What right has\nhe\ngot to take me! Did\nhe\nscrimp and go without\n in order to put me through high school and college? Has\nhe\nbooked\n passage for me to New Earth and paid my tuition to Trevor University?\"\n\n\n \"Please,\" Blake Past said, desperation deepening his voice. \"You're\n only making everything worse. After majoring in Trevorism, you\n certainly ought to realize by now that there was nothing noble about my\n buying you after Eldoria died. I only did it to ease my conscience—\"\n\n\n \"What do\nyou\nknow about conscience?\" Deirdre demanded. \"Conscience\n is a much more complex mechanism than most laymen realize. Guilt\n feelings aren't reliable criteria. They can stem from false\n causes—from ridiculous things like a person's inability to accept\n himself for what he is.\" Abruptly she dropped the subject. \"Don't you\n realize, Nate,\" she went on a little desperately, \"that I'm leaving\n tomorrow and that we won't see each other again for years and years?\"\n\n\n \"I'll come to New Earth to visit you,\" Blake said. \"Venus is only a few\n days distant on the new ships.\"\n\n\n She stood up. \"You won't come—I know you won't.\" She stamped her foot.\n \"And you won't come to the prom either. I know that too. I knew it all\n along. Sometimes I'm tempted to—\" Abruptly she broke off. \"Very well\n then,\" she went on, \"I'll say good-by now then.\"\n\n\n Blake Past stood up too. \"No, not yet. I'll walk back to the sorority\n house with you.\"\n\n\n She tossed her head, but the sadness in her tarn-blue eyes belied her\n hauteur. \"If you wish,\" she said.\nBlake Present watched them set out side by side toward the remembered\n halls of learning that showed in the distance. There had been other\n people present on the campus that afternoon, but as they had failed to\n register on Blake Past's mind, they did not exist for Blake Present.\n All that existed for Blake Present were the diminishing figures of the\n girl and the man, and the pain that was constricting his throat.\n\n\n Wretchedly he turned away. As he did so he saw the three shadows lying\n at his feet and knew that his pursuers had at last caught up to him.\n\n\n His first reaction when he faced them was amazement. His next reaction\n was shock. His third was fear.\n\n\n His amazement resulted from recognition. One of the three women arrayed\n before him was Miss Stoddart, his boyhood Sunday-school teacher.\n Standing next to her in a familiar blue uniform was Officer Finch,\n the police woman who had maintained law and order in the collective\n elementary school he had attended. Standing next to Officer Finch was\n blond and chic Vera Velvetskin, whose picture he had seen on box after\n countless box of his mother's favorite detergent.\n\n\n His shock resulted from the expressions on the three faces. Neither\n Miss Stoddart nor Officer Finch ever particularly liked him, but they\n had never particularly disliked him either. This Miss Stoddart and this\n Officer Finch disliked him, though. They hated him. They hated him so\n much that their hatred had thinned out their faces and darkened their\n eyes. More shocking yet, Vera Velvetskin, who had never existed save\n in some copywriter's mind, hated him too. In fact, judging from the\n greater thinness of her face and the more pronounced darkness of her\n eyes, she hated him even more than Miss Stoddart and Officer Finch did.\n\n\n His fear resulted from the realization that his mind-world contained\n phenomena it had no right to contain—not if he was nearly as\n well-adjusted as he considered himself to be. The three women standing\n before him definitely were not memory-images. They were too vivid, for\n one thing. For another, they were aware of him. What were they, then?\n And what were they doing in his mind?\n\n\n He asked the two questions aloud.\n\n\n Three arms were raised and three forefingers were pointed accusingly at\n his chest. Three pairs of eyes burned darkly. \"You ask us that?\" Miss\n Stoddart said. \"Callous creature who did a maiden's innocence affront!\"\n said Officer Finch. \"And sought sanctuary in ill-fitting robes of\n righteousness!\" said Vera Velvetskin. The three faces moved together,\n blurred and seemed to blend into one. The three voices were raised in\n unison: \"You know who we are, Nathan Blake.\nYou\nknow who we are!\"\n\n\n Blake stared at them open-mouthed. Then he turned and fled.\nIt had taken man a long time to discover that he was a god in his\n own right and that he too was capable of creating universes. Trivial\n universes, to be sure, when compared with the grandeur and scope of the\n objective one, and peopled with ghosts instead of human beings; but\n universes nonetheless.\n\n\n The discovery came about quite by accident. After projecting himself\n into a patient's memory one day, a psychologist named Trevor suddenly\n found himself clinging to the slope of a traumatically distorted\n mountain. His patient was beside him.\n\n\n The mountain proved to be an unconscious memory-image out of the\n patient's boyhood, and its country proved to be the country of the\n patient's mind. After many trials and errors, Trevor managed to get\n both himself and his patient back to the objective world, and not long\n afterward he was able to duplicate the feat on another case.\n\n\n The next logical step was to enter his own mind, and this he also\n succeeded in doing.\n\n\n It was inevitable that Trevor should write a book about his discovery\n and set about founding a new school of psychology. It was equally\n inevitable that he should acquire enemies as well as disciples.\n However, as the years passed and the new therapy which he devised cured\n more and more psychoses, the ranks of his disciples swelled and those\n of his enemies shrank. When, shortly before his death, he published a\n paper explaining how anyone could enter his or her own mind-world at\n will, his niche in the Freudian hall of fame was assured.\n\n\n The method employed an ability that had been evolving in the human mind\n for millennia—the ability to project oneself into a past moment—or,\n to use Trevor's term, a past \"place-time.\" Considerable practice was\n required before the first transition could be achieved, but once it\n was achieved, successive transitions became progressively easier.\n Entering another person's mind-world was of course a more difficult\n undertaking, and could be achieved only after an intensive study of\n a certain moment in that person's past. In order to return to the\n objective world, it was necessary in both cases to locate the most\n recently materialized place-time and take one step beyond it.\n\n\n By their very nature, mind-countries were confusing. They existed on\n a plane of reality that bore no apparent relationship to the plane\n of the so-called objective universe. In fact, so far as was known,\n this secondary—or subjective—reality was connected to so-called\n true reality only through the awareness of the various creators. In\n addition, these countries had no outward shape in the ordinary sense of\n the word, and while most countries contained certain parallel images,\n these images were subject to the interpretation of the individual\n creator. As a result they were seldom identical.\nIt was inevitable that sooner or later some criminal would hit upon\n the idea of hiding out in his own mind-world till the statute of\n limitations that applied to his particular crime ran out, and it was\n equally inevitable that others should follow suit. Society's answer was\n the psyche-police, and the psyche-police hadn't been in action very\n long before the first private psycheye appeared.\n\n\n Blake was one of a long line of such operators.\n\n\n So far as he knew, the present case represented the first time a\n criminal had ever hidden out in the pursuer's mind. It would have been\n a superb stratagem indeed if, shortly after her entry, Sabrina York\n had not betrayed her presence. For her point of entry she had used\n the place-time materialization of the little office Blake had opened\n on Ex-earth at the beginning of his career. Unaccountably she had\n ransacked it before moving into a co-terminous memory-image.\n\n\n Even this action wouldn't have given her away, however, if the office\n hadn't constituted a sentimental memory. Whenever Blake accepted a case\n he invariably thought of the bleak and lonely little room with its\n thin-gauge steel desk and battered filing cabinets, and when he had\n done so after accepting his case—or was it before? He couldn't quite\n remember—the mental picture that had come into his mind had revealed\n open drawers, scattered papers and a general air of disarray.\n\n\n He had suspected the truth immediately, and when he had seen the\n woman's handkerchief with the initials \"SB\" embroidered on it lying\n by one of the filing cabinets he had known definitely that his quarry\n was hiding out in his mind. Retiring to his bachelor quarters, he had\n entered at the same place-time and set off in pursuit.\n\n\n Her only advantage lost, Sabrina York was now at his mercy. Unless\n she discovered his presence and was able to locate his most recently\n materialized place-time before he over-took her, her capture was\n assured.\n\n\n Only two things bothered Blake. The little office was far in his past,\n and it was unlikely that anyone save the few intimate acquaintances\n whom he had told about it were aware that it had ever existed. How,\n then, had a total stranger such as Sabrina York learned enough about it\n to enable her to use it as a point of entry?\n\n\n The other thing that bothered him was of a much more urgent nature.\n He had been in enough minds and he had read enough on the subject\n of Trevorism to know that people were sometimes capable of creating\n beings considerably higher on the scale of mind-country evolution\n than ordinary memory-ghosts. One woman whom he had apprehended in her\n own mind had created a walking-talking Virgin Mary who watched over\n her wherever she went. And once, after tracking down an ex-enlisted\n man, he had found his quarry holed up in the memory-image of an army\n barracks with a ten-star general waiting on him hand and foot. But\n these, and other, similar, cases, had to do with mal-adjusted people,\n and moreover, the super-image in each instance had been an image that\n the person involved had\nwanted\nto create. Therefore, even assuming\n that Blake was less well-adjusted than he considered himself to be, why\n had he created three such malevolent super-images as Miss Stoddart,\n Officer Finch, and Vera Velvetskin?\nThey followed him off the campus into a vicarious memory-image of\n Walden Pond, Thoreau's shack, and the encompassing woods. Judging from\n the ecstatic \"oh's\" and \"ah's\" they kept giving voice to, the place\n delighted them. Once, glancing back over his shoulder, he saw them\n standing in front of Thoreau's shack, looking at it as though it were a\n doll's house. Not far away, Thoreau was sitting in under a tall pine,\n gazing up into the branches at a bird that had come through only as a\n vague blur of beak and feathers.\n\n\n Blake went on. Presently the Walden Pond memory-image gave way to a\n memory-image of an English park which the ex-Earth government had set\n aside as a memorial to the English poets and which had impressed Blake\n sufficiently when he had visited it in his youth to have found a place\n for itself in the country of his mind. It consisted of reconstructions\n of famous dwellings out of the lives of the poets, among them, a\n dwelling out of the life of a poet who was not in the strictest sense\n of the word English at all—the birthplace of Robert Burns. Oddly\n enough, it was Burns's birthplace that had impressed Blake most. Now\n the little cottage stood out in much more vivid detail than any of the\n other famous dwellings.\n\n\n Sabrina York must have been attracted to the place, for her footprints\n showed that she had turned in at the gate, walked up the little path\n and let herself in the door.\n\n\n They also showed that she had left by the same route, so there was no\n reason for Blake to linger. As a matter of fact, the fascination that\n had brought the place into being had been replaced by an illogical\n repugnance. But repugnance can sometimes be as compelling a force as\n fascination, and Blake not only lingered but went inside as well.\n\n\n He remembered the living room distinctly—the flagstone floor, the huge\n grill-fronted hearth, the deeply recessed window, the rack of cups and\n platters on the wall; the empty straight-backed chair standing sternly\n in a corner, the bare wooden table—\n\n\n He paused just within the doorway. The chair was no longer empty, the\n table no longer bare.\n\n\n A man sat on the former and a bottle of wine stood on the latter.\n Moreover, the room showed signs of having been lived in for a long\n time. The floor was covered with tracked-in dirt and the walls were\n blackened from smoke. The grill-work of the hearth was begrimed with\n grease.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Blake feel awkward in the hut?", "question_unique_id": "52845_91NAQ9LY_1", "options": ["He had not been invited.", "The hut demonstrated poverty.", "He was ashamed a young girl knew why he was there.", "He was afraid the girl would go into the room."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the most likely reason that Blake says he is a god?", "question_unique_id": "52845_91NAQ9LY_2", "options": ["He has the ability to create beings at will", "He is righteous", "He chases and apprehends criminals", "He is alive while his mom is dead"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Blake's mind country was made of:", "question_unique_id": "52845_91NAQ9LY_3", "options": ["His little office where he worked.", "A chronological sequence of places and times.", "A mixture of places and times from throughout his life.", "Only places and times he wanted to remember."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Blake visit his mom in the kitchen?", "question_unique_id": "52845_91NAQ9LY_4", "options": ["He wanted to touch her and ask her a question.", "He was looking for Sabrina York.", "His dad was smoking in the other room.", "He had never gotten over her death."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Deirdre sad after she left the bench?", "question_unique_id": "52845_91NAQ9LY_5", "options": ["Because Eldoria had died.", "Because the young man did not ask her to prom.", "Because her parents died of dysentery.", "Because she was going to be separated from Blake."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Where did Blake begin his chase of Sabrina?", "question_unique_id": "52845_91NAQ9LY_6", "options": ["By the lake", "At his parents' house", "In his apartment", "On Dubhe 4"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What led to the first person entering their own mind world?", "question_unique_id": "52845_91NAQ9LY_7", "options": ["A psychologist accidentally entering a patient's mind ", "Nostalgia", "The need to track criminals", "The need to hide from a crime"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What caused Blake to suspect where Sabrina was?", "question_unique_id": "52845_91NAQ9LY_8", "options": ["Many criminals had entered his mind before", "He saw his office in disarray", "He saw an embroidered handkerchief", "Sabrina was a total stranger"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/2/8/4/52845//52845-h//52845-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "30029", "set_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Lost in Translation", "year": 1972, "author": "Janifer, Laurence M.", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "LOST\n\n IN\n\n TRANSLATION\nBy\nLARRY M.\n\n HARRIS\nIn language translation, you may get a literally accurate\n word-for-word translation ... but miss the meaning entirely. And in\n space-type translation ... the effect may be the same!\nIllustrated by Schoenherr\nThe cell had been put together more efficiently than any Korvin had\n ever been in. But that was only natural, he told himself sadly; the\n Tr'en were an efficient people. All the preliminary reports had agreed\n on that; their efficiency, as a matter of fact, was what had made\n Korvin's arrival a necessity. They were well into the atomic era, and\n were on the verge of developing space travel. Before long they'd be\n settling the other planets of their system, and then the nearer stars.\n Faster-than-light travel couldn't be far away, for the magnificently\n efficient physical scientists of the Tr'en—and that would mean, in\n the ordinary course of events, an invitation to join the Comity of\n Planets.\n\n\n An invitation, the Comity was sure, which the Tr'en would not accept.\n\n\n Korvin stretched out on the cell's single bunk, a rigid affair which\n was hardly meant for comfort, and sighed. He'd had three days of\n isolation, with nothing to do but explore the resources of his own\n mind. He'd tried some of the ancient Rhine experiments, but that was\n no good; he still didn't show any particular psi talents. He couldn't\n unlock the cell door with his unaided mind; he couldn't even alter the\n probability of a single dust-mote's Brownian path through the somewhat\n smelly air. Nor could he disappear from his cell and appear, as if by\n magic, several miles away near the slightly-damaged hulk of his ship,\n to the wonder and amazement of his Tr'en captors.\n\n\n He could do, as a matter of fact, precisely nothing. He wished quietly\n that the Tr'en had seen fit to give him a pack of cards, or a book, or\n even a folder of tourist pictures. The Wonders of Tr'en, according to\n all the advance reports, were likely to be pretty boring, but they'd\n have been better than nothing.\n\n\n In any decently-run jail, he told himself with indignation, there\n would at least have been other prisoners to talk to. But on Tr'en\n Korvin was all alone.\n\n\n True, every night the guards came in and gave him a concentrated\n lesson in the local language, but Korvin failed to get much pleasure\n out of that, being unconscious at the time. But now he was equipped to\n discuss almost anything from philosophy to plumbing, but there was\n nobody to discuss it with. He changed position on the bunk and stared\n at the walls. The Tr'en were efficient; there weren't even any\n imperfections in the smooth surface to distract him.\n\n\n He wasn't tired and he wasn't hungry; his captors had left him with a\n full stock of food concentrates.\n\n\n But he was almightily bored, and about ready to tell anything to\n anyone, just for the chance at a little conversation.\n\n\n As he reached this dismal conclusion, the cell door opened. Korvin got\n up off the bunk in a hurry and spun around to face his visitor.\n\n\n The Tr'en was tall, and slightly green.\n\n\n He looked, as all the Tr'en did, vaguely humanoid—that is, if you\n don't bother to examine him closely. Life in the universe appeared to\n be rigidly limited to humanoid types on oxygen planets; Korvin didn't\n know why, and neither did anybody else. There were a lot of theories,\n but none that accounted for all the facts satisfactorily. Korvin\n really didn't care about it; it was none of his business.\n\n\n The Tr'en regarded him narrowly through catlike pupils. \"You are\n Korvin,\" he said.\n\n\n It was a ritual, Korvin had learned. \"You are of the Tr'en,\" he\n replied. The green being nodded.\n\n\n \"I am Didyak of the Tr'en,\" he said. Amenities over with, he relaxed\n slightly—but no more than slightly—and came into the cell, closing\n the door behind him. Korvin thought of jumping the Tr'en, but decided\n quickly against it. He was a captive, and it was unwise to assume that\n his captors had no more resources than the ones he saw: a small\n translucent pistollike affair in a holster at the Tr'en's side, and a\n small knife in a sheath at the belt. Those Korvin could deal with; but\n there might be almost anything else hidden and ready to fire on him.\n\n\n \"What do you want with me?\" Korvin said. The Tr'en speech—apparently\n there was only one language on the planet—was stiff and slightly\n awkward, but easily enough learned under drug hypnosis; it was the\n most rigorously logical construction of its kind Korvin had ever come\n across. It reminded him of some of the mathematical metalanguages he'd\n dealt with back on Earth, in training; but it was more closely and\n carefully constructed than even those marvels.\n\n\n \"I want nothing with you,\" Didyak said, leaning against the\n door-frame. \"You have other questions?\"\n\n\n Korvin sighed. \"What are you doing here, then?\" he asked. As\n conversation, it wasn't very choice; but it was, he admitted, better\n than solitude.\n\n\n \"I am leaning against the door,\" Didyak said. The Tr'en literalist\n approach to the smallest problems of everyday living was a little hard\n to get the hang of, Korvin told himself bitterly. He thought for a\n second.\n\n\n \"Why did you come to me?\" he said at last.\n\n\n Didyak beamed at him. The sight was remarkably unpleasant, involving\n as it did the disclosure of the Tr'en fifty-eight teeth, mostly\n pointed. Korvin stared back impassively. \"I have been ordered to come\n to you,\" Didyak said, \"by the Ruler. The Ruler wishes to talk with\n you.\"\n\n\n It wasn't quite \"talk\"; that was a general word in the Tr'en language,\n and Didyak had used a specific meaning, roughly: \"gain information\n from, by peaceful and vocal means.\" Korvin filed it away for future\n reference. \"Why did the Ruler not come to me?\" Korvin asked.\n\n\n \"The Ruler is the Ruler,\" Didyak said, slightly discomfited. \"You are\n to go to him. Such is his command.\"\n\n\n Korvin shrugged, sighed and smoothed back his hair. \"I obey the\n command of the Ruler,\" he said—another ritual. Everybody obeyed the\n command of the Ruler. If you didn't, you never had a second chance to\n try.\n\n\n But Korvin meant exactly what he'd said. He was going to obey the\n commands of the Ruler of the Tr'en—and remove the Tr'en threat from\n the rest of the galaxy forever.\n\n\n That, after all, was his job.\nThe Room of the Ruler was large, square and excessively brown. The\n walls were dark-brown, the furnishings—a single great chair, several\n kneeling-benches and a small table near the chair—were light-brown,\n of some metallic substance, and even the drapes were tan. It was,\n Korvin decided, much too much of a bad idea, even when the color\n contrast of the Tr'en themselves were figured in.\n\n\n The Ruler himself, a Tr'en over seven feet tall and correspondingly\n broad, sat in the great chair, his four fingers tapping gently on the\n table near him, staring at Korvin and his guards. The guards stood on\n either side of their captive, looking as impassive as jade statues,\n six and a half feet high.\n\n\n Korvin wasn't attempting to escape. He wasn't pleading with the Ruler.\n He wasn't defying the Ruler, either. He was just answering questions.\n\n\n The Tr'en liked to have everything clear. They were a logical race.\n The Ruler had started with Korvin's race, his name, his sex—if\n any—and whether or not his appearance were normal for humanity.\n\n\n Korvin was answering the last question. \"Some men are larger than I\n am,\" he said, \"and some are smaller.\"\n\n\n \"Within what limits?\"\n\n\n Korvin shrugged. \"Some are over eight feet tall,\" he said, \"and others\n under four feet.\" He used the Tr'en measurement scale, of course; it\n didn't seem necessary, though, to mention that both extremes of height\n were at the circus-freak level. \"Then there is a group of humans,\" he\n went on, \"who are never more than a foot and a half in height, and\n usually less than that—approximately nine or ten inches. We call\n these\nchildren\n,\" he volunteered helpfully.\n\n\n \"Approximately?\" the Ruler growled. \"We ask for precision here,\" he\n said. \"We are scientific men. We are exact.\"\n\n\n Korvin nodded hurriedly. \"Our race is more ... more approximate,\" he\n said apologetically.\n\n\n \"Slipshod,\" the Ruler muttered.\n\n\n \"Undoubtedly,\" Korvin agreed politely. \"I'll try to do the best I can\n for you.\"\n\n\n \"You will answer my questions,\" the Ruler said, \"with exactitude.\" He\n paused, frowning slightly. \"You landed your ship on this planet,\" he\n went on. \"Why?\"\n\n\n \"My job required it,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"A clumsy lie,\" the Ruler said. \"The ship crashed; our examinations\n prove that beyond any doubt.\"\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"And it is your job to crash your ship?\" the Ruler said. \"Wasteful.\"\n\n\n Korvin shrugged again. \"What I say is true,\" he announced. \"Do you\n have tests for such matters?\"\n\n\n \"We do,\" the Ruler told him. \"We are an exact and a scientific race. A\n machine for the testing of truth has been adjusted to your physiology.\n It will be attached to you.\"\n\n\n Korvin looked around and saw it coming through the door, pushed by two\n technicians. It was large and squat and metallic, and it had wheels,\n dials, blinking lights, tubes and wires, and a seat with armrests and\n straps. It was obviously a form of lie-detector—and Korvin felt\n himself marveling again at this race. Earth science had nothing to\n match their enormous command of the physical universe; adapting a\n hypnopædic language-course to an alien being so quickly had been\n wonder enough, but adapting the perilously delicate mechanisms that\n necessarily made up any lie-detector machinery was almost a miracle.\n The Tr'en, under other circumstances, would have been a valuable\n addition to the Comity of Nations.\n\n\n Being what they were, though, they could only be a menace. And\n Korvin's appreciation of the size of that menace was growing hourly.\n\n\n He hoped the lie-detector had been adjusted correctly. If it showed\n him telling an untruth, he wasn't likely to live long, and his\n job—not to mention the strongest personal inclinations—demanded most\n strongly that he stay alive.\n\n\n He swallowed hard. But when the technicians forced him down into the\n seat, buckled straps around him, attached wires and electrodes and\n elastic bands to him at appropriate places and tightened some final\n screws, he made no resistance.\n\n\n \"We shall test the machine,\" the Ruler said. \"In what room are you?\"\n\n\n \"In the Room of the Ruler,\" Korvin said equably.\n\n\n \"Are you standing or sitting?\"\n\n\n \"I am sitting,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"Are you a\nchulad\n?\" the Ruler asked. A\nchulad\nwas a small native\n pet, Korvin knew, something like a greatly magnified deathwatch\n beetle.\n\n\n \"I am not,\" he said.\nThe Ruler looked to his technicians for a signal, and nodded on\n receiving it. \"You will tell an untruth now,\" he said. \"Are you\n standing or sitting?\"\n\n\n \"I am standing,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The technicians gave another signal. The Ruler looked, in his frowning\n manner, reasonably satisfied. \"The machine,\" he announced, \"has been\n adjusted satisfactorily to your physiology. The questioning will now\n continue.\"\n\n\n Korvin swallowed again. The test hadn't really seemed extensive enough\n to him. But, after all, the Tr'en knew their business, better than\n anyone else could know it. They had the technique and the logic and\n the training.\n\n\n He hoped they were right.\n\n\n The Ruler was frowning at him. Korvin did his best to look receptive.\n \"Why did you land your ship on this planet?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"My job required it,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The Ruler nodded. \"Your job is to crash your ship,\" he said. \"It is\n wasteful but the machines tell me it is true. Very well, then; we\n shall find out more about your job. Was the crash intentional?\"\n\n\n Korvin looked sober. \"Yes,\" he said.\n\n\n The Ruler blinked. \"Very well,\" he said. \"Was your job ended when the\n ship crashed?\" The Tr'en word, of course, wasn't\nended\n, nor did it\n mean exactly that. As nearly as Korvin could make out, it meant\n \"disposed of for all time.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" he said.\n\n\n \"What else does your job entail?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n Korvin decided to throw his first spoke into the wheel. \"Staying\n alive.\"\n\n\n The Ruler roared. \"Do not waste time with the obvious!\" he shouted.\n \"Do not try to trick us; we are a logical and scientific race! Answer\n correctly.\"\n\n\n \"I have told the truth,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"But it is not—not the truth we want,\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n Korvin shrugged. \"I replied to your question,\" he said. \"I did not\n know that there was more than one kind of truth. Surely the truth is\n the truth, just as the Ruler is the Ruler?\"\n\n\n \"I—\" The Ruler stopped himself in mid-roar. \"You try to confuse the\n Ruler,\" he said at last, in an approximation of his usual one. \"But\n the Ruler will not be confused. We have experts in matters of\n logic\"—the Tr'en word seemed to mean\nright-saying\n—\"who will advise\n the Ruler. They will be called.\"\n\n\n Korvin's guards were standing around doing nothing of importance now\n that their captor was strapped down in the lie-detector. The Ruler\n gestured and they went out the door in a hurry.\n\n\n The Ruler looked down at Korvin. \"You will find that you cannot trick\n us,\" he said. \"You will find that such fiddling\"—\nchulad-like\nKorvin\n translated—\"attempts will get you nowhere.\"\n\n\n Korvin devoutly hoped so.\nThe experts in logic arrived shortly, and in no uncertain terms Korvin\n was given to understand that logical paradox was not going to confuse\n anybody on the planet. The barber who did, or didn't, shave himself,\n the secretary of the club whose members were secretaries, Achilles and\n the tortoise, and all the other lovely paradox-models scattered around\n were so much primer material for the Tr'en. \"They can be treated\n mathematically,\" one of the experts, a small emerald-green being, told\n Korvin thinly. \"Of course, you would not understand the mathematics.\n But that is not important. You need only understand that we cannot be\n confused by such means.\"\n\n\n \"Good,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The experts blinked. \"Good?\" he said.\n\n\n \"Naturally,\" Korvin said in a friendly tone.\n\n\n The expert frowned horribly, showing all of his teeth. Korvin did his\n best not to react. \"Your plan is a failure,\" the expert said, \"and you\n call this a good thing. You can mean only that your plan is different\n from the one we are occupied with.\"\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n There was a short silence. The expert beamed. He examined the\n indicators of the lie-detector with great care. \"What is your plan?\"\n he said at last, in a conspiratorial whisper.\n\n\n \"To answer your questions, truthfully and logically,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The silence this time was even longer.\n\n\n \"The machine says that you tell the truth,\" the experts said at last,\n in a awed tone. \"Thus, you must be a traitor to your native planet.\n You must want us to conquer your planet, and have come here secretly\n to aid us.\"\n\n\n Korvin was very glad that wasn't a question. It was, after all, the\n only logical deduction.\n\n\n But it happened to be wrong.\n\"The name of your planet is Earth?\" the Ruler asked. A few minutes had\n passed; the experts were clustered around the single chair. Korvin was\n still strapped to the machine; a logical race makes use of a traitor,\n but a logical race does not trust him.\n\n\n \"Sometimes,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"It has other names?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"It has no name,\" Korvin said truthfully. The Tr'en idiom was like the\n Earthly one; and certainly a planet had no name. People attached names\n to it, that was all. It had none of its own.\n\n\n \"Yet you call it Earth?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"I do,\" Korvin said, \"for convenience.\"\n\n\n \"Do you know its location?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"Not with exactitude,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n There was a stir. \"But you can find it again,\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"I can,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"And you will tell us about it?\" the Ruler went on.\n\n\n \"I will,\" Korvin said, \"so far as I am able.\"\n\n\n \"We will wish to know about weapons,\" the Ruler said, \"and about plans\n and fortifications. But we must first know of the manner of decision\n on this planet. Is your planet joined with others in a government or\n does it exist alone?\"\n\n\n Korvin nearly smiled. \"Both,\" he said.\n\n\n A short silence was broken by one of the attendant experts. \"We have\n theorized that an underling may be permitted to make some of his own\n decisions, leaving only the more extensive ones for the master. This\n seems to us inefficient and liable to error, yet it is a possible\n system. Is it the system you mean?\"\n\n\n Very sharp, Korvin told himself grimly. \"It is,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Then the government which reigns over several planets is supreme,\"\n the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"It is,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"Who is it that governs?\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n The key question had, at last, been asked. Korvin felt grateful that\n the logical Tr'en had determined to begin from the beginning, instead\n of going off after details of armament first; it saved a lot of time.\n\n\n \"The answer to that question,\" Korvin said, \"cannot be given to you.\"\n\n\n \"Any question of fact has an answer,\" the Ruler snapped. \"A paradox is\n not involved here; a government exists, and some being is the\n governor. Perhaps several beings share this task; perhaps machines do\n the work. But where there is a government, there is a governor. Is\n this agreed?\"\n\n\n \"Certainly,\" Korvin said. \"It is completely obvious and true.\"\n\n\n \"The planet from which you come is part of a system of planets which\n are governed, you have said,\" the Ruler went on.\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"Then there is a governor for this system,\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said again.\n\n\n The ruler sighed gently. \"Explain this governor to us,\" he said.\n\n\n Korvin shrugged. \"The explanation cannot be given to you.\"\n\n\n The Ruler turned to a group of his experts and a short muttered\n conversation took place. At its end the Ruler turned his gaze back to\n Korvin. \"Is the deficiency in you?\" he said. \"Are you in some way\n unable to describe this government?\"\n\n\n \"It can be described,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"Then you will suffer unpleasant consequences if you describe it to\n us?\" the Ruler went on.\n\n\n \"I will not,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n It was the signal for another conference. With some satisfaction,\n Korvin noticed that the Tr'en were becoming slightly puzzled; they\n were no longer moving and speaking with calm assurance.\n\n\n The plan was taking hold.\n\n\n The Ruler had finished his conference. \"You are attempting again to\n confuse us,\" he said.\n\n\n Korvin shook his head earnestly. \"I am attempting,\" he said, \"not to\n confuse you.\"\n\n\n \"Then I ask for an answer,\" the Ruler said.\n\n\n \"I request that I be allowed to ask a question,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n The Ruler hesitated, then nodded. \"Ask it,\" he said. \"We shall answer\n it if we see fit to do so.\"\n\n\n Korvin tried to look grateful. \"Well, then,\" he said, \"what is your\n government?\"\n\n\n The Ruler beckoned to a heavy-set green being, who stepped forward\n from a knot of Tr'en, inclined his head in Korvin's direction, and\n began. \"Our government is the only logical form of government,\" he\n said in a high, sweet tenor. \"The Ruler orders all, and his subjects\n obey. In this way uniformity is gained, and this uniformity aids in\n the speed of possible action and in the weight of action. All Tr'en\n act instantly in the same manner. The Ruler is adopted by the previous\n Ruler; in this way we are assured of a common wisdom and a steady\n judgment.\"\n\n\n \"You have heard our government defined,\" the Ruler said. \"Now, you\n will define yours for us.\"\n\n\n Korvin shook his head. \"If you insist,\" he said, \"I'll try it. But you\n won't understand it.\"\n\n\n The Ruler frowned. \"We shall understand,\" he said. \"Begin. Who governs\n you?\"\n\n\n \"None,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"But you are governed?\"\n\n\n Korvin nodded. \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Then there is a governor,\" the Ruler insisted.\n\n\n \"True,\" Korvin said. \"But everyone is the governor.\"\n\n\n \"Then there is no government,\" the Ruler said. \"There is no single\n decision.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" Korvin said equably, \"there are many decisions binding on all.\"\n\n\n \"Who makes them binding?\" the Ruler asked. \"Who forces you to accept\n these decisions? Some of them must be unfavorable to some beings?\"\n\n\n \"Many of them are unfavorable,\" Korvin said. \"But we are not forced to\n accept them.\"\n\n\n \"Do you act against your own interests?\"\n\n\n Korvin shrugged. \"Not knowingly,\" he said. The Ruler flashed a look at\n the technicians handling the lie-detector. Korvin turned to see their\n expression. They needed no words; the lie-detector was telling them,\n perfectly obviously, that he was speaking the truth. But the truth\n wasn't making any sense. \"I told you you wouldn't understand it,\" he\n said.\n\n\n \"It is a defect in your explanation,\" the Ruler almost snarled.\n\n\n \"My explanation is as exact as it can be,\" he said.\n\n\n The Ruler breathed gustily. \"Let us try something else,\" he said.\n \"Everyone is the governor. Do you share a single mind? A racial mind\n has been theorized, though we have met with no examples—\"\n\n\n \"Neither have we,\" Korvin said. \"We are all individuals, like\n yourselves.\"\n\n\n \"But with no single ruler to form policy, to make decisions—\"\n\n\n \"We have no need of one,\" Korvin said calmly.\n\n\n \"Ah,\" the Ruler said suddenly, as if he saw daylight ahead. \"And why\n not?\"\n\n\n \"We call our form of government\ndemocracy\n,\" Korvin said. \"It means\n the rule of the people. There is no need for another ruler.\"\n\n\n One of the experts piped up suddenly. \"The beings themselves rule each\n other?\" he said. \"This is clearly impossible; for, no one being can\n have the force to compel acceptance of his commands. Without his\n force, there can be no effective rule.\"\n\n\n \"That is our form of government,\" Korvin said.\n\n\n \"You are lying,\" the expert said.\n\n\n One of the technicians chimed in: \"The machine tells us—\"\n\n\n \"Then the machine is faulty,\" the expert said. \"It will be corrected.\"\n\n\n Korvin wondered, as the technicians argued, how long they'd take\n studying the machine, before they realized it didn't have any defects\n to correct. He hoped it wasn't going to be too long; he could foresee\n another stretch of boredom coming. And, besides, he was getting\n homesick.\n\n\n It took three days—but boredom never really had a chance to set in.\n Korvin found himself the object of more attention than he had hoped\n for; one by one, the experts came to his cell, each with a different\n method of resolving the obvious contradictions in his statements.\n\n\n Some of them went away fuming. Others simply went away, puzzled.\n\n\n On the third day Korvin escaped.\n\n\n It wasn't very difficult; he hadn't thought it would be. Even the most\n logical of thinking beings has a subconscious as well as a conscious\n mind, and one of the ways of dealing with an insoluble problem is to\n make the problem disappear. There were only two ways of doing that,\n and killing the problem's main focus was a little more complicated.\n That couldn't be done by the subconscious mind; the conscious had to\n intervene somewhere. And it couldn't.\n\n\n Because that would mean recognizing, fully and consciously, that the\n problem\nwas\ninsoluble. And the Tr'en weren't capable of that sort of\n thinking.\n\n\n Korvin thanked his lucky stars that their genius had been restricted\n to the physical and mathematical. Any insight at all into the mental\n sciences would have given them the key to his existence, and his\n entire plan, within seconds.\n\n\n But, then, it was lack of that insight that had called for this\n particular plan. That, and the political structure of the Tr'en.\n\n\n The same lack of insight let the Tr'en subconscious work on his\n escape without any annoying distractions in the way of deep\n reflection. Someone left a door unlocked and a weapon nearby—all\n quite intent, Korvin was sure. Getting to the ship was a little more\n complicated, but presented no new problems; he was airborne, and then\n space-borne, inside of a few hours after leaving the cell.\n\n\n He set his course, relaxed, and cleared his mind. He had no psionic\n talents, but the men at Earth Central did; he couldn't receive\n messages, but he could send them. He sent one now.\nMission accomplished; the Tr'en aren't about to come\n marauding out into space too soon. They've been given food\n for thought—nice indigestible food that's going to stick in\n their craws until they finally manage to digest it. But they\n can't digest it and stay what they are; you've got to be\n democratic, to some extent, to understand the idea. What\n keeps us obeying laws we ourselves make? What keeps us\n obeying laws that make things inconvenient for us? Sheer\n self-interest, of course—but try to make a Tr'en see it!\nWith one government and one language, they just weren't\n equipped for translation. They were too efficient physically\n to try for the mental sciences at all. No mental sciences,\n no insight into my mind or their own—and that means no\n translation.\nBut—damn it—I wish I were home already.\nI'm bored absolutely stiff!\nTHE END\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the best description of Korvin's job?", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_1", "options": ["Land his ship on the Tr'en planet", "Ensure the Tr'en evolve in their thinking before they start interstellar travel", "Staying alive", "Obey the commands of the Ruler of the Tr'en"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the Tr'en let Korvin go?", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_2", "options": ["He represented an unsolveable problem", "He would not tell the truth", "He disrespected the ruler", "He refused to answer questions"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was Korvin's plan?", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_3", "options": ["Lie to the Tr'en", "Help the Tr'en understand democracy", "Confuse the Tr'en ", "Get the Tr'en to chase him"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The Tr'en's response to Korvin's behavior can best be categorized as:", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_4", "options": ["fight", "flight", "freeze", "appease"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Korvin have to word his questions to the guard carefully?", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_5", "options": ["Because he wanted the guard to give him something to do", "Because otherwise he would be harmed", "Because he did not know the Tr'en language", "Because the Tr'en do not infer the situational meaning of a question"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Korvin feel about the laws on Earth?", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_6", "options": ["They are all inconvenient", "They are in the best interest of the population as a whole", "They are all unfavorable", "He is forced to accept them"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The chronology of Korvin's time with the Tr'en is:", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_7", "options": ["capture, solitary imprisonment, lie detector, examinations, escape", "capture, examinations, solitary imprisonment, lie detector, escape", "capture, solitary imprisonment, lie detector, solitary confinement, escape", "capture, solitary imprisonment, examinations, escape"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the truth not make sense to the Tr'en?", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_8", "options": ["They weren't listening carefully", "The machine was faulty", "They were too logical", "They did not understand the language"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What were the topics of the Tr'en's questions to Korvin about Earth?", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_9", "options": ["human physiology, weapons, space travel, government", "human physiology, weapons, name, location, space travel, government", "human physiology, weapons, name, location, government", "human physiology, weapons, government"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the main reason Korvin did not try to escape earlier?", "question_unique_id": "30029_XQTTOPHP_10", "options": ["He needed to accomplish his mission before he left", "His ship had crashed", "He was afraid of being killed", "He did not know the exact location of Earth"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": 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{"article_id": "62139", "set_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Captain Chaos", "year": 1957, "author": "Bond, Nelson S.", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Space ships -- Fiction; War stories; Cooks -- Fiction; Short stories", "article": "CAPTAIN CHAOS\nBy NELSON S. BOND\nThe Callisto-bound\nLeo\nneeded\n\n a cook. What it got was a piping-voiced\n\n Jonah who jinxed it straight into Chaos.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1942.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWe picked up our new cook on Phobos. Not Phoebus or Phoebe; I mean\n Phobos, Mars' inner moon. Our regular victual mangler came down with\n acute indigestion—tasted some of his own cooking, no doubt—when we\n were just one blast of a jet-tube out of Sand City spaceport. But since\n we were rocketing under sealed orders, we couldn't turn back.\n\n\n So we laid the\nLeo\ndown on Phobos' tiny cradle-field and bundled\n our ailing grub-hurler off to a hospital, and the skipper said to me,\n \"Mister Dugan,\" he said, \"go out and find us a cook!\"\n\n\n \"Aye, sir!\" I said, and went.\n\n\n Only it wasn't that easy. In those days, Phobos had only a handful\n of settlers, and most of them had good-paying jobs. Besides, we were\n at war with the Outer Planets, and no man in his right senses wanted\n to sign for a single-trip jump on a rickety old patrolship bound for\n nobody-knew-where. And, of course, cooks are dime-a-dozen when you\n don't need one, but when you've got to locate one in a hurry they're as\n difficult to find as petticoats in a nudist camp.\n\n\n I tried the restaurants and the employment agencies, but it was no\n dice. I tried the hotels and the tourist homes and even one or two\n of the cleaner-looking joy-joints. Again I drew a blank. So, getting\n desperate, I audioed a plaintive appeal to the wealthy Phobosian\n colonists, asking that one of the more patriotic sons-of-riches donate\n a chef's services to the good old I.P.S., but my only response was a\n loud silence.\n\n\n So I went back to the ship. I said, \"Sorry, sir. We're up against it. I\n can't seem to find a cook on the whole darned satellite.\"\n\n\n The skipper scowled at me from under a corduroy brow and fumed, \"But\n we've got to have a cook, Dugan! We can't go on without one!\"\n\n\n \"In a pinch,\" I told him, \"\nI\nmight be able to boil a few pies, or\n scramble us a steak or something, Skipper.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks, Dugan, but that won't do. On this trip the men must be fed\n regularly and well. Makeshift meals are O.Q. on an ordinary run, but\n when you're running the blockade—\"\n\n\n He stopped abruptly. But too late; I had caught his slip of the tongue.\n I stared at him. I said, \"The blockade, sir? Then you've read our\n orders?\"\n\n\n The Old Man nodded soberly.\n\n\n \"Yes. You might as well know, Lieutenant. Everyone will be told as soon\n as the\nLeo\nlifts gravs again. My orders were to be opened four hours\n after leaving Sand City. I read them a few minutes ago.\n\n\n \"We are to attempt to run the Outer Planets Alliance blockade at any\n spot which reconnaisance determines as favorable. Our objective is\n Jupiter's fourth satellite, Callisto. The Solar Federation Intelligence\n Department has learned of a loyalist uprising on that moon. It is\n reported that Callisto is weary of the war, with a little prompting\n will secede from the Alliance and return to the Federation.\n\n\n \"If this is true, it means we have at last found the foothold we have\n been seeking; a salient within easy striking distance of Jupiter,\n capital of the Alliance government. Our task is to verify the rumor\n and, if it be true, make a treaty with the Callistans.\"\n\n\n I said, \"Sweet howling stars—some assignment, sir! A chance to end\n this terrible war ... form a permanent union of the entire Solar\n family ... bring about a new age of prosperity and happiness.\"\n\n\n \"If,\" Cap O'Hara reminded me, \"we succeed. But it's a tough job. We\n can't expect to win through the enemy cordon unless our men are in top\n physical condition. And that means a sound, regular diet. So we must\n find a cook, or—\"\n\n\n \"The search,\" interrupted an oddly high-pitched, but not unpleasant\n voice, \"is over. Where's the galley?\"\nI whirled, and so did the Old Man. Facing us was an outlandish little\n figure; a slim, trim, natty little Earthman not more than five-foot-two\n in height; a smooth-cheeked young fellow swaddled in a spaceman's\n uniform at least three sizes too large. Into the holster of his harness\n was thrust a Haemholtz ray-pistol big enough to burn an army, and in\n his right hand he brandished a huge, gleaming carving-knife. He frowned\n at us impatiently.\n\n\n \"Well,\" he repeated impatiently, \"where is it?\"\n\n\n The Old Man stared.\n\n\n \"W-who,\" he demanded dazedly, \"might you be?\"\n\n\n \"I might be,\" retorted the little stranger, \"lots of people. But I came\n here to be your new cook.\"\n\n\n O'Hara said, \"The new—What's your name, mister?\"\n\n\n \"Andy,\" replied the newcomer. \"Andy Laney.\"\n\n\n The Old Man's lip curled speculatively. \"Well, Andy Laney,\" he said,\n \"you don't look like much of a cook to\nme\n.\"\n\n\n But the little mugg just returned the Old Man's gaze coolly. \"Which\n makes it even,\" he retorted. \"\nYou\ndon't look like much of a skipper\n to\nme\n. Do I get the job, or don't I?\"\n\n\n The captain's grin faded, and his jowls turned pink. I stepped forward\n hastily. I said, \"Excuse me, sir, shall I handle this?\" Then, because\n the skipper was still struggling for words: \"You,\" I said to the little\n fellow, \"are a cook?\"\n\n\n \"One of the best!\" he claimed complacently.\n\n\n \"You're willing to sign for a blind journey?\"\n\n\n \"Would I be here,\" he countered, \"if I weren't?\"\n\n\n \"And you have your space certificate?\"\n\n\n \"I—\" began the youngster.\n\n\n \"Smart Aleck!\" That was the Old Man, exploding into coherence at last.\n \"Rat-tailed, clever-cracking little smart Aleck! Don't look like much\n of a skipper, eh? Well, my fine young rooster—\"\n\n\n I said quickly, \"If you don't mind, sir, this is no time to worry over\n trifles. 'Any port in a storm,' you know. And if this young man\ncan\ncook—\"\n\n\n The skipper's color subsided. So did he, grumbling. \"Well, perhaps\n you're right, Dugan. All right, Slops, you're hired. The galley's\n on the second level, port side. Mess in three quarters of an\n hour. Get going! Dugan, call McMurtrie and tell him we lift gravs\n immediately—\nSlops!\nWhat are you doing at that table?\"\n\n\n For the little fellow had sidled across the control-room and now, eyes\n gleaming inquisitively, was peering at our trajectory charts. At the\n skipper's roar he glanced up at us eagerly.\n\n\n \"Vesta!\" he piped in that curiously high-pitched and mellow voice.\n \"Loft trajectory for Vesta! Then we're trying to run the Alliance\n blockade, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"None of your business!\" bellowed O'Hara in tones of thunderous\n outrage. \"Get below instantly, or by the lavendar lakes of Luna I'll—\"\n\n\n \"If I were you,\" interrupted our diminutive new chef thoughtfully, \"I'd\n try to broach the blockade off Iris rather than Vesta. For one thing,\n their patrol line will be thinner there; for another, you can come in\n through the Meteor Bog, using it as a cover.\"\n\n\n \"\nMr. Dugan!\n\"\n\n\n The Old Man's voice had an ominous ring to it, one I had seldom heard.\n I sprang to attention and saluted smartly. \"Aye, sir?\"\n\n\n \"Take this—this culinary tactician out of my sight before I forget I'm\n an officer and a gentleman. And tell him that when I want advice I'll\n come down to the galley for it!\"\n\n\n A hurt look crept into the youngster's eyes. Slowly he turned and\n followed me from the turret, down the ramp, and into the pan-lined\n cubicle which was his proper headquarters. When I was turning to leave\n he said apologetically, \"I didn't mean any harm, Mr. Dugan. I was just\n trying to help.\"\n\n\n \"You must learn not to speak out of turn, youngster,\" I told him\n sternly. \"The Old Man's one of the smartest space navigators who ever\n lifted gravs. He doesn't need the advice or suggestions of a cook.\"\n\n\n \"But I was raised in the Belt,\" said the little chap plaintively. \"I\n know the Bog like a book. And I was right; our safest course\nis\nby\n way of Iris.\"\n\n\n Well, there you are! You try to be nice to someone, and what happens?\n He tees off on you. I got a little sore I guess. Anyhow, I told the\n little squirt off, but definitely.\n\n\n \"Now, listen!\" I said bluntly. \"You volunteered for the job. Now\n you've got to take what comes with it: orders! From now on, suppose\n you take care of the cooking and let the rest of us worry about the\n ship—Captain Slops!\"\n\n\n And I left, banging the door behind me hard.\nSo we hit the spaceways for Vesta, and after a while the Old Man called\n up the crew and told them our destination, and if you think they were\n scared or nervous or anything like that, why, you just don't know\n spacemen. From oil-soaked old Jock McMurtrie, the Chief Engineer, all\n the way down the line to Willy, our cabin-boy, the\nLeo's\ncomplement\n was as thrilled as a sub-deb at an Academy hop.\n\n\n John Wainwright, our First Officer, licked his chops like a fox in a\n hen-house and said, \"The blockade! Oboyoboy! Maybe we'll tangle with\n one of the Alliance ships, hey?\"\n\n\n Blinky Todd, an ordinary with highest rating, said with a sort of\n macabre satisfaction, \"I hopes we\ndo\nmeet up with 'em, that's whut I\n does, sir! Never did have no love for them dirty, skulkin' Outlanders,\n that's whut I didn't!\"\n\n\n And one of the black-gang blasters, a taciturn chap, said nothing—but\n the grim set of his jaw and the purposeful way he spat on his callused\n paws were mutely eloquent.\n\n\n Only one member of the crew was absent from the conclave. Our new\n Slops. He was busy preparing midday mess, it seems, because scarcely\n had the skipper finished talking than the audio hummed and a cheerful\n call rose from the galley:\n\n\n \"Soup's on! Come and get it!\"\n\n\n Which we did. And whatever failings \"Captain Slops\" might have, he\n had not exaggerated when he called himself one of the best cooks in\n space. That meal, children, was a meal! When it comes to victuals\n I can destroy better than describe, but there was stuff and things\n and such-like, all smothered in gravy and so on, and huge quantities\n of this and that and the other thing, all of them unbelievably\n dee-luscious!\n\n\n Beyond a doubt it was the finest feast we of the\nLeo\nhad enjoyed in\n a 'coon's age. Even the Old Man admitted that as, leaning back from\n the table, he patted the pleasant bulge due south of his belt buckle.\n He rang the bell that summoned Slops from the galley, and the little\n fellow came bustling in apprehensively.\n\n\n \"Was everything all right, sir?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Not only all right, Slops,\" wheezed Captain O'Hara, \"but perfect!\n Accept my congratulations on a superb meal, my boy. Did you find\n everything O.Q. in the galley?\"\n\n\n \"Captain Slops\" blushed like a stereo-struck school-gal, and fidgeted\n from one foot to another.\n\n\n \"Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you very much. Yes, the galley was in fine\n order. That is—\" He hesitated—\"there is one little thing, sir.\"\n\n\n \"So? Well, speak up, son, what is it? I'll get it fixed for you right\n away.\" The Old Man smiled archly. \"Must have everything shipshape for a\n tip-top chef, what?\"\n\n\n The young hash-slinger still hesitated bashfully.\n\n\n \"But it's such a\nlittle\nthing, sir, I almost hate to bother you with\n it.\"\n\n\n \"No trouble at all. Just say the word.\"\n\n\n \"Well, sir,\" confessed Slops reluctantly, \"I need an incinerator in\n the galley. The garbage-disposal system in there now is old-fashioned,\n inconvenient and unsanitary. You see, I have to carry the waste down\n two levels to the rocket-chamber in order to expel it.\"\n\n\n The skipper's brow creased.\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Slops,\" he said, \"but I don't see how we can do anything\n about that. Not just now, at any rate. That job requires equipment we\n don't have aboard. After this jump is over I'll see what I can do.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, I realize we don't have the regular equipment,\" said Slops shyly,\n \"but I've figured out a way to get the same effect with equipment we\n do have. There's an old Nolan heat-cannon rusting in the storeroom.\n If that could be installed by the galley vent, I could use it as an\n incinerator.\"\n\n\n I said, \"Hold everything, Slops! You can't do that! It's against\n regulations. Code 44, Section xvi, says, 'Fixed armament shall be\n placed only in gunnery embrasures insulated against the repercussions\n of firing charges, re-radiation, or other hazards accruent to heavy\n ordnance.'\"\n\n\n Our little chef's face fell. \"Now, that's too bad,\" he said\n discouragedly. \"I was planning a special banquet for tomorrow, with\n roast marsh-duck and all the fixings, pinberry pie—but, oh, well!—if\n I have no incinerator—\"\n\n\n The skipper's eyes bulged, and he drooled like a pup at a barbeque.\n He was a bit of a sybarite, was Captain David O'Hara; if there was\n anything he dearly loved to exercise his molars on it was Venusian\n marsh-duck topped with a dessert of Martian pinberry pie. He said:\n\n\n \"We-e-ell, now, Mr. Dugan, let's not be too technical. After all, that\n rule was put in the book only to prevent persons which shouldn't ought\n to do so from having control of ordnance. But that isn't what Slops\n wants the cannon for, is it, son? So I don't see any harm in rigging\n up the old Nolan in the galley for incineration purposes. Did you say\nall\nthe fixings, Slops?\"\n\n\n Maybe I was mistaken, but for a moment I suspected I caught a queer\n glint in our little chef's eyes; it might have been gratitude, or, on\n the other hand, it might have been self-satisfaction. Whatever it was\n it passed quickly, and Captain Slops' soft voice was smooth as silk\n when he said:\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain, all the fixings. I'll start cooking the meal as soon as\n the new incinerator is installed.\"\nSo that was that. During the night watch two men of the crew lugged\n the ancient Nolan heat cannon from stores and I went below to check. I\n found young Slops bent over the old cannon, giving it a strenuous and\n thorough cleaning. The way he was oiling and scrubbing at that antique\n reminded me of an apprentice gunner coddling his first charge.\n\n\n I must have startled him, entering unexpectedly as I did, for when I\n said, \"Hi, there!\" he jumped two feet and let loose a sissy little\n piping squeal. Then, crimson-faced with embarrassment, he said, \"Oh,\n h-hello, Lieutenant. I was just getting my new incinerator shipshape.\n Looks O.Q., eh?\"\n\n\n \"If you ask me,\" I said, \"it looks downright lethal. The Old Man must\n be off his gravs to let a young chuckle-head like you handle that toy.\"\n\n\n \"But I'm only going to use it,\" he said plaintively, \"to dispose of\n garbage.\"\n\n\n \"Well, don't dump your cans when there are any ships within range,\" I\n warned him glumly, \"or there'll be a mess of human scraps littering up\n the void. That gun may be a museum piece, but it still packs a wallop.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" said Slops meekly. \"I'll be careful how I use it, sir.\"\n\n\n I had finished my inspection, and I sniggered as his words reminded me\n of a joke I'd heard at a spacemans' smoker.\n\n\n \"Speaking of being careful, did you hear the giggler about the old maid\n at the Martian baths? Well, it seems this perennial spinster wandered,\n by accident, into the men's shower room and met up with a brawny young\n prospector—\"\n\n\n Captain Slops said, \"Er—excuse me, Lieutenant, but I have to get this\n marsh-duck stuffed.\"\n\n\n \"Plenty of time, Slops. Wait till you hear this; it will kill you. The\n old maid got flustered and said, 'Oh, I'm sorry! I must be in the wrong\n compartment—'\"\n\n\n \"If you don't mind, Mr. Dugan,\" interrupted the cook loudly, \"I'm\n awfully busy. I don't have any time for—\"\n\n\n \"The prospector looked her over carefully for a couple of seconds; then\n answered, 'That's O.Q. by me, sister. I won't—'\"\n\n\n \"I—I've got to go now, Lieutenant,\" shouted Slops. \"Just remembered\n something I've got to get from stores.\" And without even waiting to\n hear the wallop at the end of my tale he fled from the galley, very\n pink and flustered.\n\n\n So there was one for the log-book! Not only did our emergency chef lack\n a sense of humor, but the little punk was bashful, as well! Still, it\n was no skin off my nose if Slops wanted to miss the funniest yarn of a\n decade. I shrugged and went back to the control turret.\nAll that, to make an elongated story brief, happened on the first day\n out of Mars. As any schoolchild knows, it's a full hundred million from\n the desert planet to the asteroid belt. In those days, there was no\n such device as a Velocity-Intensifier unit, and the\nLeo\n, even though\n she was then considered a reasonably fast little patroller, muddled\n along at a mere 400,000 m.p.h. Which meant it would take us at least\n ten days, perhaps more, to reach that disputed region of space around\n Vesta, where the Federation outposts were sparse and the Alliance block\n began.\n\n\n That period of jetting was a mingled joy and pain in the britches.\n Captain Slops was responsible for both.\n\n\n For one thing, as I've hinted before, he was a bit of a panty-waist.\n It wasn't so much the squeaky voice or the effeminate gestures he cut\n loose with from time to time. One of the roughest, toughest scoundrels\n who ever cut a throat on Venus was \"High G\" Gordon, who talked like a\n boy soprano, and the meanest pirate who ever highjacked a freighter was\n \"Runt\" Hake—who wore diamond ear-rings and gold fingernail polish!\n\n\n But it was Slops' general attitude that isolated him from the command\n and crew. In addition to being a most awful prude, he was a kill-joy.\n When just for a lark we begged him to boil us a pot of spaghetti, so we\n could pour a cold worm's nest into Rick Bramble's bed, he shuddered and\n refused.\n\n\n \"Certainly not!\" he piped indignantly. \"You must be out of your minds!\n I never heard of such a disgusting trick! Of course, I won't be a party\n to it. Worms—Ugh!\"\n\n\n \"Yeah!\" snorted Johnny Wainwright disdainfully, \"And\nugh!\nto you,\n too. Come on, Joe, let's get out of here before we give Slops bad\n dreams and goose-flesh!\"\n\n\n Nor was hypersensitiveness Slops' worst failing. If he was squeamish\n about off-color jokes and such stuff, he had no compunctions whatsoever\n against sticking his nose in where it didn't belong.\n\n\n He was an inveterate prowler. He snooped everywhere and anywhere from\n ballast-bins to bunk-rooms. He quizzed the Chief about engine-room\n practices, the gunner's mate on problems of ballistics, even the\n cabin-boy on matters of supplies and distribution of same. He was not\n only an asker; he was a teller, as well. More than once during the next\n nine days he forced on the skipper the same gratuitous advice which\n before had enraged the Old Man. By sheer perseverance he earned the\n title I had tagged him with: \"Captain Slops.\"\n\n\n I was willing to give him another title, too—Captain Chaos. God knows\n he created enough of it!\n\n\n \"It's a mistake to broach the blockade at Vesta,\" he argued over and\n over again.\n\n\n \"O.Q., Slops,\" the skipper would nod agreeably, with his mouth full\n of some temper-softening tidbit, \"you're right and I'm wrong, as you\n usually are. But I'm in command of the\nLeo\n, and you ain't. Now, run\n along like a good lad and bring me some more of this salad.\"\n\n\n So ten days passed, and it was on the morning of the eleventh day out\n of Sand City that we ran into trouble with a capital trub. I remember\n that morning well, because I was in the mess-hall having breakfast with\n Cap O'Hara, and Slops was playing another variation on the old familiar\n theme.\n\n\n \"I glanced at the chart this morning, sir,\" he began as he minced in\n with a platterful of golden flapjacks and an ewer of Vermont maple\n syrup, \"and I see we are but an hour or two off Vesta. I am very much\n afraid this is our last chance to change course—\"\n\n\n \"And for that,\" chuckled the Old Man, \"Hooray! Pass them pancakes, son.\n Maybe now you'll stop shooting off about how we ought to of gone by way\n of Iris. Mmmm! Good!\"\n\n\n \"Thank you, sir,\" said Slops mechanically. \"But you realize there is\n extreme danger of encountering enemy ships?\"\n\n\n \"Keep your pants on, Slops!\"\n\n\n \"Eh?\" The chef looked startled. \"Beg pardon, sir?\"\n\n\n \"I said keep your pants on. Sure, I know. And I've took precautions.\n There's a double watch on duty, and men at every gun. If we do meet up\n with an Alliance craft, it'll be just too bad for them!\n\n\n \"Yes, sirree!\" The Old Man grinned comfortably. \"I almost hope we\n do bump into one. After we burn it out of the void we'll have clear\n sailing all the way to Callisto.\"\n\n\n \"But—but if there should be more than one, sir?\"\n\n\n \"Don't be ridiculous, my boy. Why should there be?\"\n\n\n \"Well, for one thing,\" wrangled our pint-sized cook, \"because rich\n ekalastron deposits were recently discovered on Vesta. For another,\n because Vesta's orbit is now going into aphelion stage, which will\n favor a concentration of raiders.\"\n\n\n The skipper choked, spluttered, and disgorged a bite of half-masticated\n pancake.\n\n\n \"Eka—Great balls of fire! Are you sure?\"\n\n\n \"Of course, I'm sure. I told you days ago that I was born and raised in\n the Belt, Captain.\"\n\n\n \"I know. But why didn't you tell me about Vesta before? I mean about\n the ekalastron deposits?\"\n\n\n \"Why—why, because—\" said Slops. \"Because—\"\n\n\n \"Don't give me lady-logic, you dope!\" roared the Old Man, an enraged\n lion now, his breakfast completely forgotten. \"Give me a sensible\n answer! If you'd told me\nthat\ninstead of just yipping and yapping\n about how via Iris was a nicer route I'd have listened to you! As it\n is, we're blasting smack-dab into the face of danger. And us on the\n most vital mission of the whole ding-busted war!\"\n\n\n He was out of his seat, bustling to the audio, buzzing Lieutenant\n Wainwright on the bridge.\n\n\n \"Johnny—that you? Listen, change traj quick! Set a new course through\n the Belt by way of Iris and the Bog, and hurry up, because—\"\n\n\n What reason he planned to give I do not know, for he never finished\n that sentence. At that moment the\nLeo\nrattled like a Model AA\n spacesled in an ionic storm, rolled, quivered and slewed like a drunk\n on a freshly-waxed floor. The motion needed no explanation; it was\n unmistakeable to any spacer who has ever hopped the blue. Our ship had\n been gripped, and was now securely locked, in the clutch of a tractor\n beam!\nWhat happened next was everything at once. Officers Wainwright and\n Bramble were in the turret, and they were both good sailors. They knew\n their duties and how to perform them. An instant after the\nLeo\nhad\n been assaulted, the ship bucked and slithered again, this time with the\n repercussions of our own ordnance. Over the audio, which Sparks had\n hastily converted into an all-way, inter-ship communicating unit, came\n a jumble of voices. A call for Captain O'Hara to \"Come to the bridge,\n sir!\" ... the harsh query of Chief McMurtrie, \"Tractor beams on stern\n and prow, sir. Shall I attempt to break them?\" ... and a thunderous\ngroooom!\nfrom the fore-gunnery port as a crew went into action ... a\n plaintive little shriek from somebody ... maybe from Slops himself....\n\n\n Then on an ultra-wave carrier, drowning local noises beneath waves of\n sheer volume, came English words spoken with a foreign intonation. The\n voice of the Alliance commander.\n\n\n \"Ahoy the\nLeo\n! Calling the captain of the\nLeo\n!\"\n\n\n O'Hara, his great fists knotted at his sides, called back, \"O'Hara of\n the\nLeo\nanswering. What do you want?\"\n\n\n \"Stand by to admit a boarding party, Captain. It is futile to resist.\n You are surrounded by six armed craft, and your vessel is locked in\n our tensiles. Any further effort to make combat will bring about your\n immediate destruction!\"\n\n\n From the bridge, topside, snarled Johnny Wainwright, \"The hell with\n 'em, Skipper! Let's fight it out!\" And elsewhere on the\nLeo\nangry\n voices echoed the same defi. Never in my life had I felt such a\n heart-warming love for and pride in my companions as at that tense\n moment. But the Old Man shook his head, and his eyes were glistening.\n\n\n \"It's no use,\" he moaned strickenly, more to himself than to me. \"I\n can't sacrifice brave men in a useless cause, Dugan. I've got to—\" He\n faced the audio squarely. To the enemy commander he said, \"Very good,\n sir! In accordance with the Rules of War, I surrender into your hands!\"\n\n\n The firing ceased, and a stillness like that of death blanketed the\nLeo\n.\n\n\n It was then that Andy Laney, who had lingered in the galley doorway\n like a frozen figuring, broke into babbling incredulous speech.\n\n\n \"You—you're giving up like this?\" he bleated. \"Is this all you're\n going to do?\"\n\n\n The Old Man just looked at him, saying never a word, but that glance\n would have blistered the hide off a Mercurian steelback. I'm more\n impetuous. I turned on the little idiot vituperatively.\n\n\n \"Shut up, you fool! Don't you realize there's not a thing we can do but\n surrender? Dead, we're of no earthly use to anyone. Alive, there is\n always a chance one of us may get away, bring help. We have a mission\n to fulfil, an important one. Corpses can't run errands.\"\n\n\n \"But—but if they take us prisoners,\" he questioned fearfully, \"what\n will they do with us?\"\n\n\n \"A concentration camp somewhere. Perhaps on Vesta.\"\n\n\n \"And the\nLeo\n?\"\n\n\n \"Who knows? Maybe they'll send it to Jupiter with a prize crew in\n command.\"\n\n\n \"That's what I thought. But they mustn't be allowed to do that. We're\n marked with the Federation tricolor!\"\n\n\n A sharp retort trembled on the tip of my tongue, but I never uttered\n it. Indeed, I swallowed it as comprehension dawned. There came to me\n the beginnings of respect for little Andy Laney's wisdom. He had been\n right about the danger of the Vesta route, as we had learned to our\n cost; now he was right on this other score.\n\n\n The skipper got it, too. His jaw dropped. He said, \"Heaven help us,\n it's the truth! To reach Jupiter you've got to pass Callisto. If the\n Callistans saw a Federation vessel, they'd send out an emissary to\n greet it. Our secret would be discovered, Callisto occupied by the\n enemy....\"\n\n\n I think he would have turned, then, and given orders to continue the\n fight even though it meant suicide for all of us. But it was too late.\n Already our lock had opened to the attackers; down the metal ramp we\n now heard the crisp cadence of invading footsteps. The door swung open,\n and the Alliance commandant stood smiling triumphantly before us.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was the cook called Captain Slops?", "question_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ_1", "options": ["because he used to be a captain", "because he was raised in the Belt", "because he liked to tell people what to do", "because he made delicious meals"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the most likely explanation for the cook's demeanor and behavior?", "question_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ_2", "options": ["The cook was female", "The cook was young", "The cook was an alien", "The cook was a saboteur"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Dugan find a new cook?", "question_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ_3", "options": ["He didn't", "He appealed to the colonists", "He tried employment agencies", "He tried hotels and tourist homes"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the cook get the tool he wanted in the kitchen?", "question_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ_4", "options": ["He installed it himself", "He just asked for it", "He manipulated the captain using his appetite", "He followed regulations"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do they get from the kitchen to the control room?", "question_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ_5", "options": ["Go down a ramp", "Go down 2 levels", "Go up 2 levels", "Go up a ramp"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have most likely happened if the captain followed the cook's advice?", "question_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ_6", "options": ["The ship would not have tried to run the blockade", "The ship would have landed safely on Iris", "The ship would not have been caught in a tractor beam", "The ship would have avoided the bog"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was the ship's crew happy about their voyage?", "question_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ_7", "options": ["They had ten days of free time", "They respected the captain", "They were excited to fight the enemy", "They had a good cook on the ship"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the ship try to travel via Vesta?", "question_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ_8", "options": ["The cook said not to go that way", "The federation orders required it", "The captain decided on this path", "It was located in the bog"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the alliance want to capture the ship?", "question_unique_id": "62139_V60QHFBZ_9", "options": ["to strengthen the blockade near Vesta", "to take prisoners", "to have a way into the loyalist camp", "to join the federation"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/1/3/62139//62139-h//62139-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63523", "set_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Coming of the Gods", "year": 1960, "author": "Whitehorn, Chester", "topic": "Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; PS; Martians -- Fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Adventure stories; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "COMING OF THE GODS\nBy CHESTER WHITEHORN\nNever had Mars seen such men as these, for they\n\n came from black space, carrying weird weapons—to\n\n fight for a race of which they had never heard.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1945.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nRo moved cautiously. He knew the jungles of Mars well, knew the\n dangers, the swift death that could come to an unwary traveler. Many\n times he had seen fellow Martians die by the razor fangs of Gin, the\n swamp snake. Their clear red skin had become blotched and purple, their\n eyeballs popped, their faces swollen by the poison that raced through\n their veins. And Ro had seen the bones of luckless men vomited from the\n mouths of the Droo, the cannibal plants. And others there had been,\n some friends of his, who had become game for beasts of prey, or been\n swallowed by hungry, sucking pools of quicksand. No, the jungles of\n Mars were not to be taken casually, no matter how light in heart one\n was at the prospect of seeing home once more.\n\n\n Ro was returning from the north. He had seen the great villages of\n thatched huts, the strange people who lived in these huts instead of\n in caves, and wore coverings on their feet and shining rings in their\n ears. And having quenched his curiosity about these people and their\n villages, he was satisfied to travel home again.\n\n\n He was a man of the world now, weary of exploring and ready to settle\n down. He was anxious to see his family again, his father and mother\n and all his brothers and sisters; to sit round a fire with them at the\n entrance to their cave and tell of the wondrous places he'd visited.\n And, most of all, he wanted to see Na, graceful, dark eyed Na, whose\n fair face had disturbed his slumber so often, appearing in his dreams\n to call him home.\n\n\n He breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the jungle's edge. Before\n him lay a broad expanse of plain. And far in the distance rose the\n great cliffs and the hills that were his home.\n\n\n His handsome face broadened into a smile and he quickened his pace to a\n trot. There was no need for caution now. The dangers on the plain were\n few.\n\n\n The sun beat down on his bare head and back. His red skin glistened.\n His thick black hair shone healthily.\n\n\n Mile after mile fell behind him. His long, well muscled legs carried\n him swiftly toward the distant hills. His movements were graceful,\n easy, as the loping of Shee, the great cat.\n\n\n Then, suddenly, he faltered in his stride. He stopped running and,\n shielding his eyes from the sun's glare, stared ahead. There was a\n figure running toward him. And behind that first figure, a second gave\n chase.\n\n\n For a long moment Ro studied the approaching creatures. Then he gasped\n in surprise. The pursued was a young woman, a woman he knew. Na! The\n pursuer was a squat, ugly rat man, one of the vicious Oan who lived in\n the cliffs.\n\n\n Ro exclaimed his surprise, then his rage. His handsome face was grim as\n he searched the ground with his eyes. When he found what he sought—a\n round rock that would fit his palm—he stooped, and snatching up the\n missile, he ran forward.\n\n\n At great speed, he closed the gap between him and the approaching\n figures. He could see the rat man plainly now—his fanged, frothy\n mouth; furry face and twitching tail. The Oan, however, was too intent\n on his prey to notice Ro at first, and when he did, it was too late.\n For the young Martian had let fly with the round stone he carried.\n\n\n The Oan squealed in terror and tried to swerve from his course. The\n fear of one who sees approaching death was in his movements and his\n cry. He had seen many Oan die because of the strength and accuracy in\n the red men's arms.\n\n\n Despite his frantic contortions, the stone caught him in the side. His\n ribs and backbone cracked under the blow. He was dead before he struck\n the ground.\n\n\n With hardly a glance at his fallen foe, Ro ran on to meet the girl. She\n fell into his arms and pressed her cheek to his bare shoulder. Her dark\n eyes were wet with gladness. Warm tears ran down Ro's arm.\nFinally Na lifted her beautiful head. She looked timidly at Ro, her\n face a mask of respect. The young Martian tried to be stern in meeting\n her gaze, as was the custom among the men of his tribe when dealing\n with women; but he smiled instead.\n\n\n \"You're home,\" breathed Na.\n\n\n \"I have traveled far to the north,\" answered Ro simply, \"and seen many\n things. And now I have returned for you.\"\n\n\n \"They must have been great things you saw,\" Na coaxed.\n\n\n \"Yes, great and many. But that tale can wait. Tell me first how you\n came to be playing tag with the Oan.\"\n\n\n Na lowered her eyes.\n\n\n \"I was caught in the forest below the cliffs. The Oan spied me and I\n ran. The chase was long and tiring. I was almost ready to drop when you\n appeared.\"\n\n\n \"You were alone in the woods!\" Ro exclaimed. \"Since when do the women\n of our tribe travel from the cliffs alone?\"\n\n\n \"Since a long time,\" she answered sadly. Then she cried. And between\n sobs she spoke:\n\n\n \"Many weeks ago a great noise came out of the sky. We ran to the mouths\n of our caves and looked out, and saw a great sphere of shining metal\n landing in the valley below. Many colored fire spat from one end of it.\n\n\n \"The men of our tribe snatched up stones, and holding one in their\n hands and one beneath their armpits, they climbed down to battle or\n greet our visitors. They had surrounded the sphere and were waiting,\n when suddenly an entrance appeared in the metal and two men stepped out.\n\n\n \"They were strange men indeed; white as the foam on water, and clothed\n in strange garb from the neck down, even to coverings on their feet.\n They made signs of peace—with one hand only, for they carried\n weapons of a sort in the other. And the men of our tribe made the\n same one-handed sign of peace, for they would not risk dropping their\n stones. Then the white men spoke; but their tongue was strange, and our\n men signaled that they could not understand. The white men smiled, and\n a great miracle took place. Suddenly to our minds came pictures and\n words. The white men spoke with their thoughts.\n\n\n \"They came from a place called Earth, they said. And they came in\n peace. Our men found they could think very hard and answer back with\n their own thoughts. And there was much talk and happiness, for friendly\n visitors were always welcome.\n\n\n \"There were two more white ones who came from the sphere. One was a\n woman with golden hair, and the other, a man of age, with hair like\n silver frost.\n\n\n \"There was a great feast then, and our men showed their skill at\n throwing. Then the white men displayed the power of their strange\n weapons by pointing them at a tree and causing flame to leap forth to\n burn the wood in two. We were indeed glad they came in peace.\n\n\n \"That night we asked them to sleep with us in the caves, but they made\n camp in the valley instead. The darkness passed swiftly and silently,\n and with the dawn we left our caves to rejoin our new friends. But\n everywhere a red man showed himself, he cried out and died by the\n flame from the white men's weapons.\n\n\n \"I looked into the valley and saw hundreds of Oan. They had captured\n our friends in the night and were using their weapons to attack us.\n There was a one-sided battle that lasted three days. Finally, under\n cover of night, we were forced to leave the caves. One by one we went,\n and those of us who lived still travel alone.\"\n\n\n Ro groaned aloud as Na finished her tale. His homecoming was a meeting\n with tragedy, instead of a joyful occasion.\n\n\n \"What of my father?\" he asked hopefully. \"He was a great warrior.\n Surely he didn't fall to the Oan?\"\n\n\n \"He had no chance to fight,\" Na answered. \"Two of your brothers died\n with him on that first morning.\"\nRo squared his shoulders and set his jaw. He wiped a hint of tears from\n his eyes.\n\n\n \"They shall pay,\" he murmured, and started off toward the cliffs again.\n\n\n Na trailed behind him. Her face was grave with concern.\n\n\n \"They are very many,\" she said.\n\n\n \"Then there will be more to kill,\" answered Ro without turning.\n\n\n \"They have the weapons of the white ones.\"\n\n\n \"And the white ones, as well. They probably keep them alive to repair\n the weapons if they become useless. But when I have slain a few Oan, I\n will set the white ones free. They will help me to make more weapons.\n Together we will fight the rat men.\"\n\n\n Na smiled. Ro was angry, but anger did not make him blind. He would\n make a good mate.\n\n\n The sun was setting when the two Martians reached the cliffs. Below\n them was the valley in which lay the metal sphere. Ro could see it\n dimly outlined in the shadows, as Na had said. A distance away, in\n another clearing, he could see many Oan, flitting ghost-like from place\n to place.\n\n\n There were no fires, for the Oan were more beast than man and feared\n flame; but Ro could make out four prone figures. They appeared to\n be white blots in the dimness. One had long, golden hair, like spun\n sunbeams; another's head was covered with a thatch like a cap of snow\n on a mountain peak.\n\n\n \"You say they came from a place called Earth?\" Ro asked Na in wonder.\n\n\n \"They traveled through space in their 'ship,'\" Na answered. \"They\n called themselves an expedition.\"\n\n\n Ro was silent then. In a short time it would be dark enough to go down\n into the valley. When he had rescued the white ones, he would learn\n more about them.\n\n\n He turned away from the valley to study Na. She was very beautiful.\n Her dark eyes seemed to sparkle and her hair shone in the twilight. He\n understood why she had crept into his dreams.\n\n\n The darkness settled quickly. Soon Ro could barely make out the girl's\n features. It was time for him to leave.\n\n\n He took a pouch from his waist and shook out a gold arm band. This he\n clasped on Na's wrist.\n\n\n \"All men will know now that you are the mate of Ro,\" he whispered. And\n he kissed her, as was the custom of his tribe when a man took a wife.\n\n\n Without another word he disappeared over the edge of the cliff. They\n had already made plans for their next meeting. There was no need for a\n prolonged farewell. They would be together soon—on the far side of the\n cliff—if all went well.\n\n\n In his left hand and under his armpit Ro carried stones. They were of a\n good weight and would make short work of any Oan who was foolish enough\n to cross his path.\n\n\n His right arm he kept free for climbing. His fingers found crevices\n to hold to in the almost smooth wall. His toes seemed to have eyes to\n pierce the darkness in finding footholds.\nThe climb was long and dangerous. Ro's skin glistened with sweat.\n He had lived in the cliffs all his life, and had made many perilous\n climbs, but never one on so dark a night. It seemed an eternity before\n he rested at the bottom.\n\n\n Feeling his way cautiously, he moved toward the camp. He could sense\n the presence of many Oan close by. The hair at the base of his neck\n prickled. He prayed he wouldn't be seen. An alarm now would spoil his\n plan.\n\n\n Ahead of him, he saw a clearing. That would be his destination. On\n the far side he would find the white ones. He took the stone from his\n armpit and moved on.\n\n\n Suddenly he halted. A dim figure approached. It was one of the Oan, a\n guard. He was coming straight at Ro. The young Martian shrank back.\n\n\n \"The rat men have eyes to cut the night.\" It was a memory of his\n mother's voice. She had spoken those words when he was a child, to keep\n him from straying too far.\n\n\n The Oan was only a few feet away now, but his eyes were not cutting\n the night. Ro could see his large ears, hear his twitching tail. In a\n moment the beast would stumble over him.\n\n\n Like a phantom, Ro arose from his crouch. The rat man was startled,\n frozen with fear. Ro drove his right arm around. The stone in his hand\n cracked the Oan's skull like an eggshell. Ro caught the body as it\n fell, lowered it noiselessly to the ground.\n\n\n Breathing more easily, Ro moved on. He reached the edge of the small\n clearing without making a sound. Strewn on the ground were shapeless\n heaps. They would be the slumbering rat men. Ro suppressed an urge to\n spring amongst them and slay them as they slept.\n\n\n He lay flat on his stomach and inched his way ahead. It was slow work,\n but safer. When a sound reached his ears he drew himself together and\n feigned sleep. In the dusk he appeared no different than the others.\n\n\n His chest was scratched in a thousand places when he reached the far\n side, but he felt no pain. His heart was singing within him. His job\n was almost simple now. The difficult part was done.\n\n\n Straining his eyes, he caught sight of a golden mass some feet away.\n Crouching low, he darted toward it. In a moment his outstretched hands\n contacted a soft body. It seemed to shrink from his touch. A tiny gasp\n reached his ears.\n\n\n \"Be still,\" he thought. He remembered Na's words: '\nWe spoke with our\n thoughts.\n' \"Be still. I've come to free you.\" And then, because it\n seemed so futile, he whispered the words aloud.\n\n\n Then his mind seemed to grow light, as though someone was sharing the\n weight of his brain. An urgent message to hurry—hurry reached him. It\n was as though he was\nfeeling\nwords, words spoken in the light, sweet\n voice of a girl. Pictures that were not actually pictures entered his\n mind. Waves of thought that took no definite form held a plain meaning.\n\n\n His groping hands found the girl's arm and moved down to the strips of\n hide that bound her wrists. He fumbled impatiently with the heavy knots.\n\n\n \"Don't move when you are free,\" he warned the girl as he worked. \"I\n must release the others first. When all is ready I will give a signal\n with my thoughts and you will follow me.\"\n\n\n Once again his mind grew light. The girl's thoughts assured him she\n would follow his instructions.\nTime passed quickly. To Ro, it seemed that his fingers were all thumbs.\n His breathing was heavy as he struggled with the knots. But finally the\n golden-haired girl was free.\n\n\n Ro was more confident as he moved to untie the others. He worked more\n easily as each came free and he started on the next.\n\n\n When they were ready, Ro signaled the four white people to follow him.\n They rose quietly and trailed him into the woods. The girl whispered\n something to one of the men. Ro turned and glared at her through the\n shadows.\n\n\n The progress they made was slow, but gradually the distance between\n them and Oan camp grew. Ro increased his pace when silence was no\n longer necessary. The four white people stumbled ahead more quickly.\n\n\n \"We journey out of the valley and around the face of the cliffs,\" Ro\n told them. \"After a short while, we will meet Na.\"\n\n\n \"Who is Na?\" asked the girl.\n\n\n \"She is the one I have chosen for my mate,\" Ro answered.\n\n\n The white girl was silent. They traveled quite a distance without\n communicating. Each was busy with his own thoughts.\n\n\n Finally the man with the silver hair asked, \"Why did you risk your life\n to rescue us?\"\n\n\n \"With your help I will avenge the death of my father and brothers and\n the men of my tribe.\"\n\n\n He stopped walking and stared around him for a landmark. They had\n traveled far along the foot of the cliff. According to the plan Na\n should have met them minutes ago.\n\n\n Then he gave a glad cry. Squinting ahead he saw an approaching figure.\n It was—His cry took on a note of alarm. The figure was bent low\n under the weight of a burden. It was a rat man, and slung across his\n shoulders was a girl.\n\n\n Ro's body tensed and quivered. A low growl issued from deep in his\n throat. He charged forward.\nThe Oan saw him coming and straightened, allowing the girl to fall. He\n set his twisted legs and bared his fangs. The fur on his back stood out\n straight as he prepared to meet the young Martian's attack.\n\n\n Ro struck his foe head on. They went down in a frenzied bundle of fury.\n The rat man's tail lashed out to twist around Ro's neck. With frantic\n strength, Ro tore it away before it could tighten.\n\n\n Ignoring the Oan's slashing teeth, the young Martian pounded heavy\n fists into his soft stomach. Suddenly shifting his attack, Ro wrapped\n his legs around the rat man's waist. His hands caught a furry throat\n and tightened.\n\n\n Over and over they rolled. The Oan clawed urgently at the Martian's\n choking fingers. His chest made strange noises as it pleaded for the\n air that would give it life. But Ro's hands were bands of steel,\n tightening, ever tightening their deadly grip.\n\n\n Then, as suddenly as it had started, it was over. The rat man quivered\n and lay still.\n\n\n Ro dismounted the limp body. His face wore a wildly triumphant\n expression. It changed as he remembered the girl. He ran to her side.\n\n\n Na was just opening her eyes. She stared around her fearfully, then\n smiled as she recognized Ro. The young Martian breathed a sigh of\n relief.\n\n\n Na turned her head and saw the body of the rat man. She shuddered.\n\n\n \"I was coming down the side of the mountain,\" she said. \"I saw him\n standing at the foot. The shadows were deceiving. I thought it was you.\n It wasn't until too late that I discovered my mistake.\"\n\n\n Ro gathered the girl in his arms. He spoke softly to her to help her\n forget.\nWhen she had recovered from her shock, the small group traveled on. Ro\n led them about a mile further along the base of the cliff, then up, to\n a cleverly concealed cave.\n\n\n \"We will stay here,\" he told the others, \"until we are ready to attack\n the Oan.\"\n\n\n \"But there are only six of us,\" one of the white men protested. \"There\n are hundreds of the beasts. We wouldn't have a chance.\"\n\n\n Ro smiled.\n\n\n \"We will speak of that when it is dawn again,\" he said with his\n thoughts. \"Now we must rest.\"\n\n\n He sat in a corner of the cave and leaned back against the wall. His\n eyes were half shut and he pretended to doze. Actually he was studying\n the white ones.\n\n\n The man with the silver hair seemed very old and weak, but very wise.\n The other men had hair as black as any Martian's, but their skin was\n pure white. They were handsome, Ro thought, in a barbaric sort of way.\n One was lean and determined, the other, equally determined, but stouter\n and less impressive. Ro then centered his attention on the girl. Her\n golden hair gleamed proudly, even in the dusk. She was very beautiful,\n almost as lovely as Na.\n\n\n \"Tell me,\" he asked suddenly, \"where is this strange place you come\n from? And how is it that you can speak and cause others to speak with\n their minds?\"\n\n\n It was the old man who answered.\n\n\n \"We come from a place called Earth, many millions of miles away\n through space. My daughter, Charlotte, my two assistants, Carlson—\"\n the lean man nodded—\"Grimm—\" the stouter man acknowledged the\n introduction—\"and myself are an expedition. We came here to Mars to\n study.\"\n\n\n Ro introduced himself and Na.\n\n\n \"What manner of a place is this Earth?\" he asked, after the formalities.\n\n\n \"Our part of Earth, America, is a great country. Our cities are built\n of steel and stone, and we travel about in space boats. Now tell me,\n what is it like here on Mars? Surely the whole planet isn't wilderness.\n What year is it?\"\n\n\n \"You have seen what it is like here,\" Ro answered. \"As for 'year,' I\n don't understand.\"\n\n\n \"A year is a measure of time,\" the old man explained. \"When we left\n Earth it was the year twenty-two hundred.\"\n\n\n \"We have nothing like that here,\" said Ro, still puzzled. \"But tell me,\n about this speaking with the mind. Perhaps I shall understand that.\"\n\n\n \"It's simple telepathy. We have mastered the science on Earth. It takes\n study from childhood, but once you have mastered the art, it is quite\n simple to transmit or receive thoughts from anyone. A mere matter of\n concentration. We—who speak different tongues—understand each other\n because of action we have in mind as we speak. We want the other to\n walk, we think of the other walking. A picture is transmitted and\n understood. It is a message in a Universal language.\"\n\n\n Ro sighed.\n\n\n \"I am afraid we are very backward here on Mars,\" he said wearily. \"I\n would like to learn more, but we must sleep now. Tomorrow will be a\n very busy day.\"\n\n\n Ro slipped his arm about Na's shoulder and drew her closer. With their\n heads together they slept.\nRo awakened with the dawn. He was startled to find that Na had left his\n side. He rose quickly and strode to the mouth of the cave.\n\n\n Na met him at the entrance. She was returning from a clump of trees\n a short distance away. Her arms were loaded with Manno, the fruit of\n Mars, and clusters of wild berries and grapes.\n\n\n \"You see,\" she said, \"I will make you a good mate. Our table will be\n well provided for.\"\n\n\n \"You will make no mate at all,\" Ro said sternly, \"and there will be no\n table if you wander off. Your next meeting with the Oan may not be so\n fortunate.\"\n\n\n He glared at her for a moment, then smiled and helped her with her\n burden.\n\n\n The others in the cave awakened. Ro noticed that Charlotte had slept\n beside Carlson, but moved away shyly now that it was daylight. He\n noticed, too, that Grimm was seeing the same thing and seemed annoyed.\n\n\n Ro smiled. These young white men were no different than Martians where\n a girl was concerned.\n\n\n When they had finished breakfast, they sat around the floor of the cave\n and spoke.\n\n\n It was Carlson who asked, \"How do you expect the six of us to attack\n the rat men?\"\n\n\n \"The Oan are cowards,\" Ro answered. \"They are brave only because they\n have your weapons. But now that you are free, you can make more of\n these sticks that shoot fire.\"\n\n\n Grimm laughed.\n\n\n \"It takes intricate machinery to construct a ray gun,\" he said. \"Here\n in this wilderness we have sticks and stones to work with.\"\n\n\n Ro sprang to his feet to tower above the man. His handsome face was\n twisted in anger.\n\n\n \"You're lying,\" he shouted aloud, forgetting that the white man\n couldn't understand his words. \"You're lying because you are afraid.\n You refuse to help me avenge my people because you are more of a coward\n than the Oan.\"\n\n\n Grimm climbed to his feet and backed away. Ro advanced on him, his\n fists clenched.\n\n\n The old man also rose. He placed a restraining hand on Ro's arm.\n\n\n \"He's lying,\" said Ro with his thoughts.\n\n\n \"Tell him I'm speaking the truth, professor,\" said Grimm aloud.\n\n\n The professor repeated Grimm's words with his thoughts. \"It would be\n impossible to make new guns here,\" he said. \"But there is another way.\n I have thought about it all night.\"\n\n\n Ro turned quickly.\n\n\n \"What is it?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"The space sphere. There are weapons on our ship that are greater\n than ray guns. With those we could defeat the rat men.\" The professor\n shrugged, turned away. \"But how could we get into the ship? It is too\n well guarded.\"\n\n\n Ro fell silent. He walked to the mouth of the cave and stared out. When\n he turned back to the others, his attention was centered on Na.\n\n\n \"Perhaps the attraction you seem to hold for the Oan can be put to\n good use,\" he said aloud. \"The sphere is a distance away from the Oan\n camp. All of the rat men cannot be guarding it. Perhaps, by revealing\n yourself, you can lure the guards away from their post.\"\n\n\n He repeated his plan to the others.\n\n\n \"But they'll kill her,\" gasped Charlotte.\n\n\n \"She will be a woman alone,\" said Ro. \"The Oan prefer to capture women\n when they can.\"\n\n\n \"Then she'll be captured,\" the professor said. \"It's much too risky.\"\n\n\n Ro laughed.\n\n\n \"Do you think I will let her go alone? I will be close by. Na can lead\n the rat men through a narrow part of the valley. I will be above on the\n cliffs, waiting to pelt them with stones. Carlson or Grimm can be with\n me to roll an avalanche of rocks on their heads.\n\n\n \"In the meantime, you can take over the unguarded sphere. The rest will\n be easy.\"\n\n\n The professor smacked his fist into his palm.\n\n\n \"It might work at that. Grimm can go with you. Carlson and Charlotte\n will go with me.\"\n\n\n \"Why me?\" Grimm demanded. \"Why not Carlson? Or are you saving him for\n your daughter?\"\nCarlson grabbed Grimm by the shoulder and spun him around. He drove a\n hard fist into the stout man's face.\n\n\n Grimm stumbled backward. He fell at the cave's entrance. His hand,\n sprawled behind him to stop his fall, closed over a rock. He flung it\n at Carlson from a sitting position. It caught Carlson in the shoulder.\n\n\n Gritting his teeth, Carlson charged at Grimm. But Ro moved more\n swiftly. He caught the white man and forced him back.\n\n\n \"This is no time for fighting,\" he said. \"When the Oan are defeated you\n can kill each other. But not until then.\"\n\n\n Grimm brushed himself off as he got to his feet\n\n\n \"Okay,\" he sneered. \"I'll go with the red man. But when we meet again,\n it will be a different story.\"\n\n\n Carlson turned to Ro.\n\n\n \"I'll go with you,\" he said. \"Grimm can go with Charlotte and the\n professor.\"\n\n\n When they had detailed their plan, the party left the cave. Ro led them\n into the thickest part of the forest and toward the Oan camp.\n\n\n They moved swiftly. Before long they were at the narrow entrance to the\n valley. It was about a hundred yards long and twenty feet wide. The\n walls of the cliff rose almost straight up on both sides.\n\n\n \"We leave you here,\" said Ro to the professor. \"Na will lead you to the\n sphere. She will remain hidden until you have circled away from her.\n Then she will reveal herself.\"\n\n\n Ro looked at Na for a long moment before they parted. He grew very\n proud of what he saw. There was no fear in her eyes. Her small chin was\n firm.\n\n\n He turned to Carlson. The young Earthman was looking at Charlotte in\n much the same way.\n\n\n \"Come on,\" Ro said. \"If we spend the rest of the morning here, the Oan\n will try some strategy of their own.\"\n\n\n Carlson seemed to come out of a trance. He swung around to trail Ro up\n the sloping part of the mountain. They climbed in silence.\n\n\n Once Ro stopped to look down into the valley. But Na and the others\n were gone. He felt a pang of regret as he turned to move upward.\n\n\n When they had reached the top, he and Carlson set to work piling rocks\n and boulders at the edge of the cliff. They chose the point directly\n over the narrowest part of the valley. If all went well, the Oan would\n be trapped. They would die under a hailstorm of rock.\n\n\n \"You would have liked a more tender goodbye with Charlotte,\" Ro said to\n Carlson as they worked. \"Was it fear of Grimm that prevented it?\"\n\n\n Carlson straightened. He weighed Ro's words before answering. Finally\n he said, \"I didn't want to make trouble. It was a bad time, and\n senseless, besides. Charlotte and I are planning to be married when we\n return to America. It's not as though Grimm was still in the running.\n I'm sure he'll see reason when we tell him. It's foolish to be enemies.\"\n\n\n \"Why don't you take her for your wife here on Mars? That would end the\n trouble completely.\"\n\n\n Carlson seemed surprised.\n\n\n \"It wouldn't be legal. Who would perform the ceremony?\"\n\n\n Ro seemed puzzled, then he laughed.\n\n\n \"Last night I thought that we on Mars are backward. Now I'm not so\n sure. When we find our mates here, we take her. There is no one to\n speak of 'legal' or 'ceremony.' After all, it's a personal matter. Who\n can tell us whether it is 'legal' or not? What better ceremony than a\n kiss and a promise?\" He bent back to his work chuckling.\n\n\n \"I could argue the point,\" Carlson laughed. \"I could tell you about a\n place called Hollywood. Marriage and divorce is bad enough there. Under\n your system, it would really be a mess. But I won't say anything. Here\n on Mars your kiss and a promise is probably as binding as any ceremony.\"\n\n\n Ro didn't speak. He didn't concentrate and transmit his thoughts,\n but kept them to himself. The pictures he'd received from Carlson\n were confusing. The business at hand was more grim and important than\n untangling the puzzle.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Na alone in the forest?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_1", "options": ["Because strange men landed in a metal sphere", "Because Ro had traveled far to the north", "Because the rat men killed most of their people", "Because the white men carried weapons"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Ro tell the woman not to move?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_2", "options": ["She was bound with strips of hide", "He didn't want her to alert the captors ", "He needed to hurry", "She was afraid of him"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Na not meet the party on time?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_3", "options": ["She accidentally walked up to an Oan", "She went to find the white people", "She stayed on the cliff", "She was coming down the side of the mountain"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Ro feel about Na picking the fruit?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_4", "options": ["He was angry she wanted to bring food", "He was jealous she went without him", "He was worried she could have been harmed", "He was suspicious of her behavior"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the consequence of the white men choosing to sleep in the valley?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_5", "options": ["They battled the Oan for three days", "They went to war with the red men", "They had a great feast", "They were taken captive"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Ro want to fight the white man?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_6", "options": ["He had weapons on the ship", "He had a ray gun", "He had sticks and stones", "He thought he was being dishonest when he said he couldn't help"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Grimm dislike Carlson?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_7", "options": ["He hit him with a rock", "He hit him with a fist to the face", "He bossed him around", "He was jealous of his relationship with the woman"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When did Ro marry Na?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_8", "options": ["His second day back", "He had not yet", "After he freed the white men", "His first night back"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the old man ask what year it was?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_9", "options": ["He traveled in a space boat", "He came from a far away city", "He wondered how many years they had traveled", "He was surprised the civilization was so primitive"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Ro find it funny when Grimm was irritated?", "question_unique_id": "63523_3B46MIE8_10", "options": ["He was amused that relationship dynamics are universal", "He liked to see the white men fight", "He liked Carlson better", "He thought it was funny that Charlotte was shy"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/5/2/63523//63523-h//63523-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63401", "set_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Happy Castaway", "year": 1950, "author": "McDowell, Robert Emmett", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; PS; Asteroids -- Fiction; Castaways -- Fiction", "article": "The Happy Castaway\nBY ROBERT E. McDOWELL\n\n\n Being space-wrecked and marooned is tough\n\n enough. But to face the horrors of such a\n\n planet as this was too much. Imagine Fawkes'\n\n terrible predicament; plenty of food—and\n\n twenty seven beautiful girls for companions.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Spring 1945.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nJonathan Fawkes opened his eyes. He was flat on his back, and a girl\n was bending over him. He detected a frightened expression on the\n girl's face. His pale blue eyes traveled upward beyond the girl. The\n sky was his roof, yet he distinctly remembered going to sleep on his\n bunk aboard the space ship.\n\n\n \"You're not dead?\"\n\n\n \"I've some doubt about that,\" he replied dryly. He levered himself to\n his elbows. The girl, he saw, had bright yellow hair. Her nose was\n pert, tip-tilted. She had on a ragged blue frock and sandals.\n\n\n \"Is—is anything broken?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"Don't know. Help me up.\" Between them he managed to struggle to his\n feet. He winced. He said, \"My name's Jonathan Fawkes. I'm a space pilot\n with Universal. What happened? I feel like I'd been poured out of a\n concrete mixer.\"\n\n\n She pointed to the wreck of a small space freighter a dozen feet away.\n Its nose was buried in the turf, folded back like an accordion. It\n had burst open like a ripe watermelon. He was surprised that he had\n survived at all. He scratched his head. \"I was running from Mars to\n Jupiter with a load of seed for the colonists.\"\n\n\n \"Oh!\" said the girl, biting her lips. \"Your co-pilot must be in the\n wreckage.\"\n\n\n He shook his head. \"No,\" he reassured her. \"I left him on Mars. He\n had an attack of space sickness. I was all by myself; that was the\n trouble. I'd stay at the controls as long as I could, then lock her on\n her course and snatch a couple of hours' sleep. I can remember crawling\n into my bunk. The next thing I knew you were bending over me.\" He\n paused. \"I guess the automatic deflectors slowed me up or I would have\n been a cinder by this time,\" he said.\n\n\n The girl didn't reply. She continued to watch him, a faint enigmatic\n smile on her lips. Jonathan glanced away in embarrassment. He wished\n that pretty women didn't upset him so. He said nervously, \"Where am I?\n I couldn't have slept all the way to Jupiter.\"\n\n\n The girl shrugged her shoulders.\n\n\n \"I don't know.\"\n\n\n \"You don't know!\" He almost forgot his self-consciousness in his\n surprise. His pale blue eyes returned to the landscape. A mile across\n the plain began a range of jagged foothills, which tossed upward\n higher and higher until they merged with the blue saw-edge of a chain\n of mountains. As he looked a puff of smoke belched from a truncated\n cone-shaped peak. A volcano. Otherwise there was no sign of life: just\n he and the strange yellow-headed girl alone in the center of that vast\n rolling prairie.\n\n\n \"I was going to explain,\" he heard her say. \"We think that we are on an\n asteroid.\"\n\n\n \"We?\" he looked back at her.\n\n\n \"Yes. There are twenty-seven of us. We were on our way to Jupiter, too,\n only we were going to be wives for the colonists.\"\n\n\n \"I remember,\" he exclaimed. \"Didn't the Jupiter Food-growers\n Association enlist you girls to go to the colonies?\"\n\n\n She nodded her head. \"Only twenty-seven of us came through the crash.\"\n\n\n \"Everybody thought your space ship hit a meteor,\" he said.\n\n\n \"We hit this asteroid.\"\n\n\n \"But that was three years ago.\"\n\n\n \"Has it been that long? We lost track of time.\" She didn't take her\n eyes off him, not for a second. Such attention made him acutely self\n conscious. She said, \"I'm Ann. Ann Clotilde. I was hunting when I saw\n your space ship. You had been thrown clear. You were lying all in a\n heap. I thought you were dead.\" She stooped, picked up a spear.\n\n\n \"Do you feel strong enough to hike back to our camp? It's only about\n four miles,\" she said.\n\n\n \"I think so,\" he said.\nJonathan Fawkes fidgeted uncomfortably. He would rather pilot a space\n ship through a meteor field than face twenty-seven young women. They\n were the only thing in the Spaceways of which he was in awe. Then he\n realized that the girl's dark blue eyes had strayed beyond him. A frown\n of concentration marred her regular features. He turned around.\n\n\n On the rim of the prairie he saw a dozen black specks moving toward\n them.\n\n\n She said: \"Get down!\" Her voice was agitated. She flung herself on her\n stomach and began to crawl away from the wreck. Jonathan Fawkes stared\n after her stupidly. \"Get down!\" she reiterated in a furious voice.\n\n\n He let himself to his hands and knees. \"Ouch!\" he said. He felt like\n he was being jabbed with pins. He must be one big bruise. He scuttled\n after the girl. \"What's wrong?\"\n\n\n The girl looked back at him over her shoulder. \"Centaurs!\" she said. \"I\n didn't know they had returned. There is a small ravine just ahead which\n leads into the hills. I don't think they've seen us. If we can reach\n the hills we'll be safe.\"\n\n\n \"Centaurs! Isn't there anything new under the sun?\"\n\n\n \"Well, personally,\" she replied, \"I never saw a Centaur until I was\n wrecked on this asteroid.\" She reached the ravine, crawled head\n foremost over the edge. Jonathan tumbled after her. He hit the bottom,\n winced, scrambled to his feet. The girl started at a trot for the\n hills. Jonathan, groaning at each step, hobbled beside her.\n\n\n \"Why won't the Centaurs follow us into the hills?\" he panted.\n\n\n \"Too rough. They're like horses,\" she said. \"Nothing but a goat could\n get around in the hills.\"\n\n\n The gulley, he saw, was deepening into a respectable canyon, then a\n gorge. In half a mile, the walls towered above them. A narrow ribbon\n of sky was visible overhead. Yellow fern-like plants sprouted from the\n crevices and floor of the canyon.\n\n\n They flushed a small furry creature from behind a bush. As it sped\n away, it resembled a cottontail of Earth. The girl whipped back her\n arm, flung the spear. It transfixed the rodent. She picked it up, tied\n it to her waist. Jonathan gaped. Such strength and accuracy astounded\n him. He thought, amazons and centaurs. He thought, but this is the year\n 3372; not the time of ancient Greece.\n\n\n The canyon bore to the left. It grew rougher, the walls more\n precipitate. Jonathan limped to a halt. High boots and breeches, the\n uniform of Universal's space pilots, hadn't been designed for walking.\n \"Hold on,\" he said. He felt in his pockets, withdrew an empty cigarette\n package, crumpled it and hurled it to the ground.\n\n\n \"You got a cigarette?\" he asked without much hope.\n\n\n The girl shook her head. \"We ran out of tobacco the first few months we\n were here.\"\n\n\n Jonathan turned around, started back for the space ship.\n\n\n \"Where are you going?\" cried Ann in alarm.\n\n\n He said, \"I've got a couple of cartons of cigarettes back at the\n freighter. Centaurs or no centaurs, I'm going to get a smoke.\"\n\n\n \"No!\" She clutched his arm. He was surprised at the strength of her\n grip. \"They'd kill you,\" she said.\n\n\n \"I can sneak back,\" he insisted stubbornly. \"They might loot the ship.\n I don't want to lose those cigarettes. I was hauling some good burley\n tobacco seed too. The colonists were going to experiment with it on\n Ganymede.\"\n\n\n \"No!\"\n\n\n He lifted his eyebrows. He thought, she is an amazon! He firmly\n detached her hand.\n\n\n The girl flicked up her spear, nicked his neck with the point of it.\n \"We are going to the camp,\" she said.\n\n\n Jonathan threw himself down backwards, kicked the girl's feet out from\n under her. Like a cat he scrambled up and wrenched the spear away.\n\n\n A voice shouted: \"What's going on there?\"\nHe paused shamefacedly. A second girl, he saw, was running toward\n them from up the canyon. Her bare legs flashed like ivory. She was\n barefooted, and she had black hair. A green cloth was wrapped around\n her sarong fashion. She bounced to a stop in front of Jonathan, her\n brown eyes wide in surprise. He thought her sarong had been a table\n cloth at one time in its history.\n\n\n \"A man!\" she breathed. \"By Jupiter and all its little moons, it's a\n man!\"\n\n\n \"Don't let him get away!\" cried Ann.\n\n\n \"Hilda!\" the brunette shrieked. \"A man! It's a man!\"\n\n\n A third girl skidded around the bend in the canyon. Jonathan backed off\n warily.\n\n\n Ann Clotilde cried in anguish: \"Don't let him get away!\"\n\n\n Jonathan chose the centaurs. He wheeled around, dashed back the way\n he had come. Someone tackled him. He rolled on the rocky floor of the\n canyon. He struggled to his feet. He saw six more girls race around the\n bend in the canyon. With shouts of joy they flung themselves on him.\n\n\n Jonathan was game, but the nine husky amazons pinned him down by sheer\n weight. They bound him hand and foot. Then four of them picked him up\n bodily, started up the canyon chanting: \"\nHe was a rocket riding daddy\n from Mars.\n\" He recognized it as a popular song of three years ago.\n\n\n Jonathan had never been so humiliated in his life. He was known in the\n spaceways from Mercury to Jupiter as a man to leave alone. His nose had\n been broken three times. A thin white scar crawled down the bronze of\n his left cheek, relic of a barroom brawl on Venus. He was big, rangy,\n tough. And these girls had trounced him. Girls! He almost wept from\n mortification.\n\n\n He said, \"Put me down. I'll walk.\"\n\n\n \"You won't try to get away?\" said Ann.\n\n\n \"No,\" he replied with as much dignity as he could summon while being\n held aloft by four barbarous young women.\n\n\n \"Let him down,\" said Ann. \"We can catch him, anyway, if he makes a\n break.\"\n\n\n Jonathan Fawkes' humiliation was complete. He meekly trudged between\n two husky females, who ogled him shamelessly. He was amazed at the ease\n with which they had carried him. He was six feet three and no light\n weight. He thought enviously of the centaurs, free to gallop across the\n plains. He wished he was a centaur.\n\n\n The trail left the canyon, struggled up the precipitate walls. Jonathan\n picked his way gingerly, hugged the rock. \"Don't be afraid,\" advised\n one of his captors. \"Just don't look down.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not afraid,\" said Jonathan hotly. To prove it he trod the narrow\n ledge with scorn. His foot struck a pebble. Both feet went out from\n under him. He slithered halfway over the edge. For one sickening moment\n he thought he was gone, then Ann grabbed him by the scruff of his neck,\n hauled him back to safety. He lay gasping on his stomach. They tied a\n rope around his waist then, and led him the rest of the way to the top\n like a baby on a leash. He was too crestfallen to resent it.\n\n\n The trail came out on a high ridge. They paused on a bluff overlooking\n the prairie.\n\n\n \"Look!\" cried Ann pointing over the edge.\n\n\n A half dozen beasts were trotting beneath on the plain. At first,\n Jonathan mistook them for horses. Then he saw that from the withers up\n they resembled men. Waists, shoulders, arms and heads were identical to\n his own, but their bodies were the bodies of horses.\n\n\n \"Centaurs!\" Jonathan Fawkes said, not believing his eyes.\nThe girls set up a shout and threw stones down at the centaurs, who\n reared, pawed the air, and galloped to a safe distance, from which they\n hurled back insults in a strange tongue. Their voices sounded faintly\n like the neighing of horses.\n\n\n Amazons and centaurs, he thought again. He couldn't get the problem\n of the girls' phenomenal strength out of his mind. Then it occurred\n to him that the asteroid, most likely, was smaller even than Earth's\n moon. He must weigh about a thirtieth of what he usually did, due to\n the lessened gravity. It also occurred to him that they would be thirty\n times as strong. He was staggered. He wished he had a smoke.\n\n\n At length, the amazons and the centaurs tired of bandying insults\n back and forth. The centaurs galloped off into the prairie, the girls\n resumed their march. Jonathan scrambled up hills, skidded down slopes.\n The brunette was beside him helping him over the rough spots.\n\n\n \"I'm Olga,\" she confided. \"Has anybody ever told you what a handsome\n fellow you are?\" She pinched his cheek. Jonathan blushed.\n\n\n They climbed a ridge, paused at the crest. Below them, he saw a deep\n valley. A stream tumbled through the center of it. There were trees\n along its banks, the first he had seen on the asteroid. At the head of\n the valley, he made out the massive pile of a space liner.\n\n\n They started down a winding path. The space liner disappeared behind\n a promontory of the mountain. Jonathan steeled himself for the coming\n ordeal. He would have sat down and refused to budge except that he knew\n the girls would hoist him on their shoulders and bear him into the camp\n like a bag of meal.\n\n\n The trail debouched into the valley. Just ahead the space liner\n reappeared. He imagined that it had crashed into the mountain, skidded\n and rolled down its side until it lodged beside the stream. It reminded\n him of a wounded dinosaur. Three girls were bathing in the stream. He\n looked away hastily.\n\n\n Someone hailed them from the space ship.\n\n\n \"We've caught a man,\" shrieked one of his captors.\n\n\n A flock of girls streamed out of the wrecked space ship.\n\n\n \"A man!\" screamed a husky blonde. She was wearing a grass skirt. She\n had green eyes. \"We're rescued!\"\n\n\n \"No. No,\" Ann Clotilde hastened to explain. \"He was wrecked like us.\"\n\n\n \"Oh,\" came a disappointed chorus.\n\n\n \"He's a man,\" said the green-eyed blonde. \"That's the next best thing.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Olga,\" said a strapping brunette. \"Who'd ever thought a man could\n look so good?\"\n\n\n \"I did,\" said Olga. She chucked Jonathan under the chin. He shivered\n like an unbroken colt when the bit first goes in its mouth. He felt\n like a mouse hemmed in by a ring of cats.\n\n\n A big rawboned brute of a girl strolled into the circle. She said,\n \"Dinner's ready.\" Her voice was loud, strident. It reminded him of\n the voices of girls in the honky tonks on Venus. She looked at him\n appraisingly as if he were a horse she was about to bid on. \"Bring him\n into the ship,\" she said. \"The man must be starved.\"\n\n\n He was propelled jubilantly into the palatial dining salon of the\n wrecked liner. A long polished meturilium table occupied the center of\n the floor. Automatic weight distributing chairs stood around it. His\n feet sank into a green fiberon carpet. He had stepped back into the\n Thirty-fourth Century from the fabulous barbarian past.\n\n\n With a sigh of relief, he started to sit down. A lithe red-head sprang\n forward and held his chair. They all waited politely for him to be\n seated before they took their places. He felt silly. He felt like\n a captive princess. All the confidence engendered by the familiar\n settings of the space ship went out of him like wind. He, Jonathan\n Fawkes, was a castaway on an asteroid inhabited by twenty-seven wild\n women.\nAs the meal boisterously progressed, he regained sufficient courage\n to glance timidly around. Directly across the table sat a striking,\n grey-eyed girl whose brown hair was coiled severely about her head. She\n looked to him like a stenographer. He watched horrified as she seized\n a whole roast fowl, tore it apart with her fingers, gnawed a leg. She\n caught him staring at her and rolled her eyes at him. He returned his\n gaze to his plate.\n\n\n Olga said: \"Hey, Sultan.\"\n\n\n He shuddered, but looked up questioningly.\n\n\n She said, \"How's the fish?\"\n\n\n \"Good,\" he mumbled between a mouthful. \"Where did you get it?\"\n\n\n \"Caught it,\" said Olga. \"The stream's full of 'em. I'll take you\n fishing tomorrow.\" She winked at him so brazenly that he choked on a\n bone.\n\n\n \"Heaven forbid,\" he said.\n\n\n \"How about coming with me to gather fruit?\" cried the green-eyed\n blonde; \"you great big handsome man.\"\n\n\n \"Or me?\" cried another. And the table was in an uproar.\n\n\n The rawboned woman who had summoned them to dinner, pounded the table\n until the cups and plates danced. Jonathan had gathered that she was\n called Billy.\n\n\n \"Quiet!\" She shrieked in her loud strident voice. \"Let him be. He can't\n go anywhere for a few days. He's just been through a wreck. He needs\n rest.\" She turned to Jonathan who had shrunk down in his chair. \"How\n about some roast?\" she said.\n\n\n \"No.\" He pushed back his plate with a sigh. \"If I only had a smoke.\"\n\n\n Olga gave her unruly black hair a flirt. \"Isn't that just like a man?\"\n\n\n \"I wouldn't know,\" said the green-eyed blonde. \"I've forgotten what\n they're like.\"\n\n\n Billy said, \"How badly wrecked is your ship?\"\n\n\n \"It's strewn all over the landscape,\" he replied sleepily.\n\n\n \"Is there any chance of patching it up?\"\n\n\n He considered the question. More than anything else, he decided, he\n wanted to sleep. \"What?\" he said.\n\n\n \"Is there any possibility of repairing your ship?\" repeated Billy.\n\n\n \"Not outside the space docks.\"\n\n\n They expelled their breath, but not for an instant did they relax\n the barrage of their eyes. He shifted position in embarrassment. The\n movement pulled his muscles like a rack. Furthermore, an overpowering\n lassitude was threatening to pop him off to sleep before their eyes.\n\n\n \"You look exhausted,\" said Ann.\n\n\n Jonathan dragged himself back from the edge of sleep. \"Just tired,\" he\n mumbled. \"Haven't had a good night's rest since I left Mars.\" Indeed\n it was only by the most painful effort that he kept awake at all. His\n eyelids drooped lower and lower.\n\n\n \"First it's tobacco,\" said Olga; \"now he wants to sleep. Twenty-seven\n girls and he wants to sleep.\"\n\n\n \"He is asleep,\" said the green-eyed blonde.\nJonathan was slumped forward across the table, his head buried in his\n arms.\n\n\n \"Catch a hold,\" said Billy, pushing back from the table. A dozen girls\n volunteered with a rush. \"Hoist!\" said Billy. They lifted him like a\n sleepy child, bore him tenderly up an incline and into a stateroom,\n where they deposited him on the bed.\n\n\n Ann said to Olga; \"Help me with these boots.\" But they resisted every\n tug. \"It's no use,\" groaned Ann, straightening up and wiping her bright\n yellow hair back from her eyes. \"His feet have swollen. We'll have to\n cut them off.\"\n\n\n At these words, Jonathan raised upright as if someone had pulled a rope.\n\n\n \"\nCut off whose feet?\n\" he cried in alarm.\n\n\n \"Not your feet, silly,\" said Ann. \"Your boots.\"\n\n\n \"Lay a hand on those boots,\" he scowled; \"and I'll make me another pair\n out of your hides. They set me back a week's salary.\" Having delivered\n himself of this ultimatum, he went back to sleep.\n\n\n Olga clapped her hand to her forehead. \"And this,\" she cried \"is what\n we've been praying for during the last three years.\"\n\n\n The next day found Jonathan Fawkes hobbling around by the aid of a\n cane. At the portal of the space ship, he stuck out his head, glanced\n all around warily. None of the girls were in sight. They had, he\n presumed, gone about their chores: hunting, fishing, gathering fruits\n and berries. He emerged all the way and set out for the creek. He\n walked with an exaggerated limp just in case any of them should be\n hanging around. As long as he was an invalid he was safe, he hoped.\n\n\n He sighed. Not every man could be waited on so solicitously by\n twenty-seven handsome strapping amazons. He wished he could carry it\n off in cavalier fashion. He hobbled to the creek, sat down beneath the\n shade of a tree. He just wasn't the type, he supposed. And it might be\n years before they were rescued.\n\n\n As a last resort, he supposed, he could hide out in the hills or join\n the centaurs. He rather fancied himself galloping across the plains\n on the back of a centaur. He looked up with a start. Ann Clotilde was\n ambling toward him.\n\n\n \"How's the invalid?\" she said, seating herself beside him.\n\n\n \"Hot, isn't it?\" he said. He started to rise. Ann Clotilde placed the\n flat of her hand on his chest and shoved. \"\nOoof!\n\" he grunted. He sat\n down rather more forcibly than he had risen.\n\n\n \"Don't get up because of me,\" she informed him. \"It's my turn to cook,\n but I saw you out here beneath the trees. Dinner can wait. Jonathan do\n you know that you are irresistible?\" She seized his shoulders, stared\n into his eyes. He couldn't have felt any more uncomfortable had a\n hungry boa constrictor draped itself in his arms. He mopped his brow\n with his sleeve.\n\n\n \"Suppose the rest should come,\" he said in an embarrassed voice.\n\n\n \"They're busy. They won't be here until I call them to lunch. Your\n eyes,\" she said, \"are like deep mysterious pools.\"\n\n\n \"Sure enough?\" said Jonathan with involuntary interest. He began to\n recover his nerve.\n\n\n She said, \"You're the best looking thing.\" She rumpled his hair. \"I\n can't keep my eyes off you.\"\n\n\n Jonathan put his arm around her gingerly. \"Ouch!\" He winced. He had\n forgotten his sore muscles.\n\n\n \"I forgot,\" said Ann Clotilde in a contrite voice. She tried to rise.\n \"You're hurt.\"\n\n\n He pulled her back down. \"Not so you could notice it,\" he grinned.\n\n\n \"Well!\" came the strident voice of Billy from behind them. \"We're\nall\nglad to hear that!\"\nJonathan leaped to his feet, dumping Ann to the ground. He jerked\n around. All twenty-six of the girls were lined up on the path. Their\n features were grim. He said: \"I don't feel so well after all.\"\n\n\n \"It don't wash,\" said Billy. \"It's time for a showdown.\"\n\n\n Jonathan's hair stood on end. He felt rather than saw Ann Clotilde take\n her stand beside him. He noticed that she was holding her spear at a\n menacing angle. She said in an angry voice: \"He's mine. I found him.\n Leave him alone.\"\n\n\n \"Where do you get that stuff?\" cried Olga. \"Share and share alike, say\n I.\"\n\n\n \"We could draw straws for him,\" suggested the green-eyed blonde.\n\n\n \"Look here,\" Jonathan broke in. \"I've got some say in the matter.\"\n\n\n \"You have not,\" snapped Billy. \"You'll do just as we say.\" She took a\n step toward him.\n\n\n Jonathan edged away in consternation.\n\n\n \"He's going to run!\" Olga shouted.\n\n\n Jonathan never stopped until he was back in the canyon leading to the\n plain. His nerves were jumping like fleas. He craved the soothing\n relaxation of a smoke. There was, he remembered, a carton of cigarettes\n at the wreck. He resumed his flight, but at a more sober pace.\n\n\n At the spot where he and Ann had first crawled away from the centaurs,\n he scrambled out of the gulley, glanced in the direction of his space\n ship. He blinked his eyes, stared. Then he waved his arms, shouted and\n tore across the prairie. A trim space cruiser was resting beside the\n wreck of his own. Across its gleaming monaloid hull ran an inscription\n in silver letters: \"INTERSTELLAR COSMOGRAPHY SOCIETY.\"\n\n\n Two men crawled out of Jonathan's wrecked freighter, glanced in\n surprise at Jonathan. A third man ran from the cruiser, a Dixon Ray\n Rifle in his hand.\n\n\n \"I'm Jonathan Fawkes,\" said the castaway as he panted up, \"pilot for\n Universal. I was wrecked.\"\n\n\n A tall elderly man held out his hand. He had a small black waxed\n mustache and Van Dyke. He was smoking a venusian cigarette in a\n yellow composition holder. He said, \"I'm Doctor Boynton.\" He had a\n rich cultivated voice, and a nose like a hawk. \"We are members of the\n Interstellar Cosmography Society. We've been commissioned to make a\n cursory examination of this asteroid. You had a nasty crack up, Mr.\n Fawkes. But you are in luck, sir. We were on the point of returning\n when we sighted the wreck.\"\n\n\n \"I say,\" said the man who had run out of the cruiser. He was a prim,\n energetic young man. Jonathan noted that he carried the ray gun\n gingerly, respectfully. \"We're a week overdue now,\" he said. \"If you\n have any personal belongings that you'd like to take with you, you'd\n best be getting them aboard.\"\nJonathan's face broke into a grin. He said, \"Do any of you know how to\n grow tobacco?\"\n\n\n They glanced at each other in perplexity.\n\n\n \"I like it here,\" continued Jonathan. \"I'm not going back.\"\n\n\n \"What?\" cried the three explorers in one breath.\n\n\n \"I'm going to stay,\" he repeated. \"I only came back here after the\n cigarettes.\"\n\n\n \"But it will be three years before the asteroid's orbit brings it back\n in the space lanes,\" said Doctor Boynton. \"You don't possibly expect to\n be picked up before then!\"\n\n\n Jonathan shook his head, began to load himself with tools, tobacco\n seed, and cigarettes.\n\n\n \"Odd.\" Doctor Boynton shook his head, turned to the others. \"Though if\n I remember correctly, there was quite an epidemic of hermits during\n the medieval period. It was an esthetic movement. They fled to the\n wilderness to escape the temptation of\nwomen\n.\"\n\n\n Jonathan laughed outright.\n\n\n \"You are sure you won't return, young man?\"\n\n\n He shook his head. They argued, they cajoled, but Jonathan was adamant.\n He said, \"You might report my accident to Universal. Tell them to stop\n one of their Jupiter-bound freighters here when the asteroid swings\n back in the space ways. I'll have a load for them.\"\n\n\n Inside the ship, Doctor Boynton moved over to a round transparent port\n hole. \"What a strange fellow,\" he murmured. He was just in time to see\n the castaway, loaded like a pack mule, disappear in the direction from\n which he had come.\n\n\n Robinson Crusoe was going back to his man (?) Friday—all twenty-seven\n of them.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was the main reason Jonathan decided to stay on the asteroid?", "question_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7_1", "options": ["His spaceship had wrecked", "He wanted to grow tobacco", "He wanted to smoke cigarettes", "He wanted to be the only man surrounded by women"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What caused Jonathan's spaceship to wreck?", "question_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7_2", "options": ["He slept all the way to Jupiter", "The automatic deflectors engaged", "An asteroid entered his autopilot course", "His co-pilot was sick"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Ann smile when she met Jonathan?", "question_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7_3", "options": ["She thought he was there to rescue her", "She knew he thought she was pretty", "She had thought he was dead", "She hadn't seen a man in 3 years"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Ann worried after she met Jonathan?", "question_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7_4", "options": ["She thought they might get captured by local inhabitants", "They were traveling through a meteor field", "She saw Jonathan was covered in bruises", "She could tell Jonathan was uncomfortable"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0033", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Jonathan fight with Ann?", "question_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7_5", "options": ["He wanted to wrench away her spear", "He didn't want to be held captive by 27 women", "She didn't want him to smoke", "He wanted to go back for his possessions"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Jonathan ashamed when the second girl showed up?", "question_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7_6", "options": ["He had attacked a woman", "He was embarrassed by her beauty", "She was wearing a sarong", "He was injured and weak"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Jonathan walk when he was injured?", "question_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7_7", "options": ["He was trying to maintain what little self-respect he had left", "He was 30 times stronger than on Earth", "He was not afraid", "He thought he could escape"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Jonathan relieved when he entered the spaceship?", "question_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7_8", "options": ["He felt comfortable in familiar surroundings", "The women were polite to him", "He was starved and ready to eat", "He thought he could escape like a mouse"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Jonathan laugh at the scientist?", "question_unique_id": "63401_TBZWTSB7_9", "options": ["Because the scientist didn't know how to grow tobacco", "Because the scientist had a nose like a hawk", "Because the scientist was in a hurry to leave", "Because the scientist made such a wrong assumption about him"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/4/0/63401//63401-h//63401-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62476", "set_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Conspiracy on Callisto", "year": 1966, "author": "Pohl, Frederik", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Callisto (Satellite) -- Fiction; Amnesia -- Fiction; Adventure stories; Revolutions -- Fiction", "article": "Conspiracy on Callisto\nBy JAMES MacCREIGH\nRevolt was flaring on Callisto, and Peter Duane\n\n held the secret that would make the uprising a\n\n success or failure. Yet he could make no move,\n\n could favor no side—his memory was gone—he\n\n didn't know for whom he fought.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1943.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nDuane's hand flicked to his waist and hung there, poised. His dis-gun\n remained undrawn.\n\n\n The tall, white-haired man—Stevens—smiled.\n\n\n \"You're right, Duane,\" he said. \"I could blast you, too. Nobody would\n win that way, so let's leave the guns where they are.\"\n\n\n The muscles twitched in Peter Duane's cheeks, but his voice, when it\n came, was controlled. \"Don't think we're going to let this go,\" he\n said. \"We'll take it up with Andrias tonight. We'll see whether you can\n cut me out!\"\n\n\n The white-haired man's smile faded. He stepped forward, one hand\n bracing him against the thrust of the rocket engines underneath,\n holding to the guide rail at the side of the ship's corridor.\n\n\n He said, \"Duane, Andrias is your boss, not mine. I'm a free lance; I\n work for myself. When we land on Callisto tonight I'll be with you when\n you turn our—shall I say, our\ncargo\n?—over to him. And I'll collect\n my fair share of the proceeds. That's as far as it goes. I take no\n orders from him.\"\n\n\n A heavy-set man in blue appeared at the end of the connecting corridor.\n He was moving fast, but stopped short when he saw the two men.\n\n\n \"Hey!\" he said. \"Change of course—get to your cabins.\" He seemed about\n to walk up to them, then reconsidered and hurried off. Neither man paid\n any attention.\n\n\n Duane said, \"Do I have to kill you?\" It was only a question as he asked\n it, without threatening.\n\n\n A muted alarm bell sounded through the P.A. speakers, signaling a\n one-minute warning. The white-haired man cocked his eyebrow.\n\n\n \"Not at all,\" he said. He took the measure of his slim, red-headed\n opponent. Taller, heavier, older, he was still no more uncompromisingly\n belligerent than Duane, standing there. \"Not at all,\" he repeated.\n \"Just take your ten thousand and let it go at that. Don't make trouble.\n Leave Andrias out of our private argument.\"\n\n\n \"Damn you!\" Duane flared. \"I was promised fifty thousand. I need that\n money. Do you think—\"\n\n\n \"Forget what I think,\" Stevens said, his voice clipped and angry. \"I\n don't care about fairness, Duane, except to myself. I've done all the\n work on this—I've supplied the goods. My price is set, a hundred\n thousand Earth dollars. What Andrias promised you is no concern of\n mine. The fact is that, after I've taken my share, there's only ten\n thousand left. That's all you get!\"\n\n\n Duane stared at him a long second, then nodded abruptly. \"I was right\n the first time,\" he said. \"I'll\nhave\nto kill you!\"\nAlready his hand was streaking toward the grip of his dis-gun, touching\n it, drawing it forth. But the white-haired man was faster. His arms\n swept up and pinioned Duane, holding him impotent.\n\n\n \"Don't be a fool,\" he grated. \"Duane—\"\n\n\n The P.A. speaker rattled, blared something unintelligible. Neither man\n heard it. Duane lunged forward into the taller man's grip, sliding down\n to the floor. The white-haired man grappled furiously to keep his hold\n on Peter's gun arm, but Peter was slipping away. Belatedly, Stevens\n went for his own gun.\n\n\n He was too late. Duane's was out and leveled at him.\n\n\n \"\nNow\nwill you listen to reason?\" Duane panted. But he halted, and the\n muzzle of his weapon wavered. The floor swooped and surged beneath him\n as the thrust of the mighty jets was cut off. Suddenly there was no\n gravity. The two men, locked together, floated weightlessly out to the\n center of the corridor.\n\n\n \"Course change!\" gasped white-haired Stevens. \"Good God!\"\n\n\n The ship had reached the midpoint of its flight. The bells had sounded,\n warning every soul on it to take shelter, to strap themselves in their\n pressure bunks against the deadly stress of acceleration as the ship\n reversed itself and began to slow its headlong plunge into Callisto.\n But the two men had not heeded.\n\n\n The small steering rockets flashed briefly. The men were thrust\n bruisingly against the side of the corridor as the rocket spun lazily\n on its axis. The side jets flared once more to halt the spin, when the\n one-eighty turn was completed, and the men were battered against the\n opposite wall, still weightless, still clinging to each other, still\n struggling.\n\n\n Then the main-drive bellowed into life again, and the ship began to\n battle against its own built-up acceleration. The corridor floor rose\n up with blinking speed to smite them—\n\n\n And the lights went out in a burst of crashing pain for Peter Duane.\nSomeone was talking to him. Duane tried to force an eye open to see who\n it was, and failed. Something damp and clinging was all about his face,\n obscuring his vision. But the voice filtered in.\n\n\n \"Open your mouth,\" it said. \"Please, Peter, open your mouth. You're all\n right. Just swallow this.\"\n\n\n It was a girl's voice. Duane was suddenly conscious that a girl's light\n hand was on his shoulder. He shook his head feebly.\n\n\n The voice became more insistent. \"Swallow this,\" it said. \"It's only a\n stimulant, to help you throw off the shock of your—accident. You're\n all right, otherwise.\"\n\n\n Obediently he opened his mouth, and choked on a warm, tingly liquid.\n He managed to swallow it, and lay quiet as deft feminine hands did\n something to his face. Suddenly light filtered through his closed\n eyelids, and cool air stirred against his damp face.\n\n\n He opened his eyes. A slight red-headed girl in white nurse's uniform\n was standing there. She stepped back a pace, a web of wet gauze bandage\n in her hands, looking at him.\n\n\n \"Hello,\" he whispered. \"You—where am I?\"\n\n\n \"In the sick bay,\" she said. \"You got caught out when the ship changed\n course. Lucky you weren't hurt, Peter. The man you were with—the old,\n white-haired one, Stevens—wasn't so lucky. He was underneath when the\n jets went on. Three ribs broken—his lung was punctured. He died in the\n other room an hour ago.\"\n\n\n Duane screwed his eyes tight together and grimaced. When he opened\n them again there was alertness and clarity in them—but there was also\n bafflement.\n\n\n \"Girl,\" he said, \"who are you? Where am I?\"\n\n\n \"Peter!\" There was shock and hurt in the tone of her voice. \"I'm—don't\n you know me, Peter?\"\n\n\n Duane shook his head confusedly. \"I don't know anything,\" he said.\n \"I—I don't even know my own name.\"\n\n\n \"Duane, Duane,\" a man's heavy voice said. \"That won't wash. Don't play\n dumb on me.\"\n\n\n \"Duane?\" he said. \"Duane....\" He swiveled his head and saw a dark,\n squat man frowning at him. \"Who are you?\" Peter asked.\n\n\n The dark man laughed. \"Take your time, Duane,\" he said easily. \"You'll\n remember me. My name's Andrias. I've been waiting here for you to wake\n up. We have some business matters to discuss.\"\n\n\n The nurse, still eyeing Duane with an odd bewilderment, said: \"I'll\n leave you alone for a moment. Don't talk too much to him, Mr. Andrias.\n He's still suffering from shock.\"\n\n\n \"I won't,\" Andrias promised, grinning. Then, as the girl left the room,\n the smile dropped from his face.\n\n\n \"You play rough, Duane,\" he observed. \"I thought you'd have trouble\n with Stevens. I didn't think you'd find it necessary to put him out of\n the way so permanently. Well, no matter. If you had to kill him, it's\n no skin off my nose. Give me a release on the merchandise. I've got\n your money here.\"\nDuane waved a hand and pushed himself dizzily erect, swinging his legs\n over the side of the high cot. A sheet had been thrown over him, but he\n was fully dressed. He examined his clothing with interest—gray tunic,\n gray leather spaceman's boots. It was unfamiliar.\n\n\n He shook his head in further confusion, and the motion burst within his\n skull, throbbing hotly. He closed his eyes until it subsided, trying to\n force his brain to operate, to explain to him where and what he was.\n\n\n He looked at the man named Andrias.\n\n\n \"Nobody seems to believe me,\" he said, \"but I really don't know what's\n going on. Things are moving too fast for me. Really, I—why, I don't\n even know my own name! My head—it hurts. I can't think clearly.\"\n\n\n Andrias straightened, turned a darkly-suspicious look on Duane. \"Don't\n play tricks on me,\" he said savagely. \"I haven't time for them. I won't\n mince words with you. Give me a release on the cargo now, before I have\n to get rough. This is a lot more important to me than your life is.\"\n\n\n \"Go to hell,\" Duane said shortly. \"I'm playing no tricks.\"\n\n\n There was an instant's doubt in Andrias' eyes, then it flashed away. He\n bent closer, peered at Duane. \"I almost think—\" he began.\n\n\n Then he shook his head. \"No,\" he said. \"You're lying all right. You\n killed Stevens to get his share—and now you're trying to hold me up.\n That's your last chance that just went by, Duane. From now on, I'm\n running this show!\"\n\n\n He spun around and strode to the door, thrust it open. \"Dakin!\" he\n bellowed. \"Reed!\"\n\n\n Two large, ugly men in field-gray uniforms, emblazoned with the\n shooting-star insignia of Callisto's League police, came in, looking to\n Andrias for instructions.\n\n\n \"Duane here is resisting arrest,\" Andrias said. \"Take him along. We'll\n fix up the charges later.\"\n\n\n \"You can't do that,\" Duane said wearily. \"I'm sick. If you've got\n something against me, save it. Wait till my head clears. I'm sure I can\n explain—\"\n\n\n \"Explain, hell.\" The dark man laughed. \"If I wait, this ship will be\n blasting off for Ganymede within two hours. I'll wait—but so will the\n ship. It's not going anywhere till I give it clearance. I run Callisto;\n I'll give the orders here!\"\nII\n\n\n Whoever this man Andrias was, thought Duane, he was certainly a man of\n importance on Callisto. As he had said,\nhe\ngave the orders.\n\n\n The crew of the rocket made no objection when Andrias and his men took\n Duane off without a word. Duane had thought the nurse, who seemed a\n good enough sort, might have said something on his behalf. But she was\n out of sight as they left. A curt sentence to a gray-clad official on\n the blast field where the rocket lay, and the man nodded and hurried\n off, to tell the rocket's captain that the ship was being refused\n clearance indefinitely.\n\n\n A long, powerful ground car slid up before them. Andrias got in front,\n while the two uniformed men shoved Duane into the back of the car,\n climbed in beside him. Andrias gave a curt order, and the car shot\n forward.\n\n\n The driver, sitting beside Andrias, leaned forward and readied a hand\n under the dashboard. The high wail of a siren came instantly from the\n car's roof, and what traffic was on the broad, straight highway into\n which they had turned pulled aside to let them race through.\n\n\n Ahead lay the tall spires of a city. Graceful, hundreds of feet high,\n they seemed dreamlike yet somehow oddly familiar to Duane. Somewhere\n he had seen them before. He dragged deep into his mind, plumbing the\n cloudy, impenetrable haze that had settled on it, trying to bring forth\n the memories that he should have had. Amnesia, they called it; complete\n forgetting of the happenings of a lifetime. He'd heard of it—but never\n dreamed it could happen to him!\nMy name, it seems, is Peter Duane\n, he thought.\nAnd they tell me that\n I killed a man!\nThe thought was starkly incredible to him. A white-haired man, it had\n been; someone named Stevens. He tried to remember.\n\n\n Yes, there had been a white-haired man. And there had been an argument.\n Something to do with money, with a shipment of goods that Stevens had\n supplied to Duane. There has even been talk of killing....\n\n\n But—murder! Duane looked at his hands helplessly.\n\n\n Andrias, up ahead, was turning around. He looked sharply at Duane, for\n a long second. An uncertainty clouded his eyes, and abruptly he looked\n forward again without speaking.\n\n\n \"Who's this man Andrias?\" Duane whispered to the nearest guard.\n\n\n The man stared at him. \"Governor Andrias,\" he said, \"is the League's\n deputy on Callisto. You know—the Earth-Mars League. They put Governor\n Andrias here to—well, to govern for them.\"\n\n\n \"League?\" Duane asked, wrinkling his brow. He had heard something about\n a League once, yes. But it was all so nebulous....\n\n\n The other guard stirred, leaned over. \"Shut up,\" he said heavily.\n \"You'll have plenty of chance for talking later.\"\nBut the chance was a long time in coming. Duane found himself, an hour\n later, still in the barred room into which he'd been thrust. The guards\n had brought him there, at Andrias' order, and left him. That had been\n all.\n\n\n This was not a regular jail, Duane realized. It was more like a\n palace, something out of Earth's Roman-empire days, all white stone\n and frescoed walls. Duane wished for human companionship—particularly\n that of the nurse. Of all the people he'd met since awakening in that\n hospital bed, only she seemed warm and human. The others were—brutal,\n deadly. It was too bad, Duane reflected, that he'd failed to remember\n her. She'd seemed hurt, and she had certainly known him by first name.\n But perhaps she would understand.\n\n\n Duane sat down on a lumpy, sagging bed and buried his head in his\n hands. Dim ghosts of memory were wandering in his mind. He tried to\n conjure them into stronger relief, or to exorcise them entirely.\n\n\n Somewhere, some time, a man had said to him, \"\nAndrias is secretly\n arming the Callistan cutthroats for revolt against the League. He wants\n personal power—he's prepared to pay any price for it. He needs guns,\n Earth guns smuggled in through the League patrol. If he can wipe out\n the League police garrison—those who are loyal to the League, still,\n instead of to Andrias—he can sit back and laugh at any fleet Earth and\n Mars can send. Rockets are clumsy in an atmosphere. They're helpless.\n And if he can arm enough of Callisto's rabble, he can't be stopped.\n That's why he'll pay for electron rifles with their weight in gold.\n\"\n\n\n Duane could remember the scene clearly. Could almost see the sharp,\n aquiline face of the man who had spoken to him. But there memory\n stopped.\n\n\n A fugitive recollection raced through his mind. He halted it, dragged\n it back, pinned it down....\n\n\n They had stopped in Darkside, the spaceport on the side of Luna that\n keeps perpetually averted from Earth, as if the moon knows shame and\n wants to hide the rough and roaring dome city that nestles in one\n of the great craters. Duane remembered sitting in a low-ceilinged,\n smoke-heavy room, across the table from a tall man with white hair.\n Stevens!\n\n\n \"\nFour thousand electron rifles\n,\" the man had said. \"\nLatest\n government issue. Never mind how I got them; they're perfect. You know\n my price. Take it or leave it. And it's payable the minute we touch\n ground on Callisto.\n\"\n\n\n There had been a few minutes of haggling over terms, then a handshake\n and a drink from a thin-necked flagon of pale-yellow liquid fire.\n\n\n He and the white-haired man had gone out then, made their way by\n unfrequented side streets to a great windowless building. Duane\n remembered the white-hot stars overhead, shining piercingly through\n the great transparent dome that kept the air in the sealed city of\n Darkside, as they stood at the entrance of the warehouse and spoke in\n low tones to the man who answered their summons.\n\n\n Then, inside. And they were looking at a huge chamber full of stacked\n fiber boxes—containing nothing but dehydrated dairy products and\n mining tools, by the stencils they bore. Duane had turned to the\n white-haired man with a puzzled question—and the man had laughed aloud.\n\n\n He dragged one of the boxes down, ripped it open with the sharp point\n of a handling hook. Short-barreled, flare-mouthed guns rolled out,\n tumbling over the floor. Eight of them were in that one box, and\n hundreds of boxes all about. Duane picked one up, broke it, peered into\n the chamber where the tiny capsule of U-235 would explode with infinite\n violence when the trigger was pulled, spraying radiant death three\n thousand yards in the direction the gun was aimed....\n\n\n And that memory ended.\n\n\n Duane got up, stared at his haggard face in the cracked mirror over\n the bed. \"\nThey say I'm a killer\n,\" he thought. \"\nApparently I'm a\n gun-runner as well. Good lord—what am I not?\n\"\n\n\n His reflection—white, drawn face made all the more pallid by the red\n hair that blazed over it—stared back at him. There was no answer\n there. If only he could remember—\n\n\n \"All right, Duane.\" The deep voice of a guard came to him as the door\n swung open. \"Stop making eyes at yourself.\"\n\n\n Duane looked around. The guard beckoned. \"Governor Andrias wants to\n speak to you—now. Let's not keep the governor waiting.\"\nA long, narrow room, with a long carpet leading from the entrance up to\n a great heavy desk—that was Andrias' office. Duane felt a click in his\n memory as he entered. One of the ancient Earth dictators had employed\n just such a psychological trick to overawe those who came to beg favors\n of him. Muslini, or some such name.\n\n\n The trick failed to work. Duane had other things on his mind; he walked\n the thirty-foot length of the room, designed to imbue him with a sense\n of his own unimportance, as steadily as he'd ever walked in the open\n air of his home planet.\n\n\n Whichever planet that was.\n\n\n The guard had remained just inside the door, at attention. Andrias\n waved him out.\n\n\n \"Here I am,\" said Duane. \"What do you want?\"\n\n\n Andrias said, \"I've had the ship inspected and what I want is on it.\n That saves your life, for now. But the cargo is in your name. I could\n take it by force, if I had to. I prefer not to.\" He picked up a paper,\n handed it to Duane. \"In spite of your behavior, you can keep alive.\n You can even collect the money for the guns—Stevens' share as well\n as your own. This is a release form, authorizing my men to take four\n hundred and twenty cases of dehydrated foods and drilling supplies from\n the hold of the\nCameroon\n—the ship you came on. Sign it, and we'll\n forget our argument. Only, sign it now and get it over with. I'm losing\n patience, Duane.\"\n\n\n Duane said, without expression, \"No.\"\n\n\n Dark red flooded into Andrias' sallow face. His jaws bunched angrily\n and there was a ragged thread of incomplete control to his voice as he\n spoke.\n\n\n \"I'll have your neck for this, Duane,\" he said softly.\n\n\n Duane looked at the man's eyes. Death was behind them, peeping out.\n Mentally he shrugged. What difference did it make?\n\n\n \"Give me the pen,\" he said shortly.\n\n\n Andrias exhaled a deep breath. You could see the tension leave him, the\n mottled anger fade from his face and leave it without expression. He\n handed the paper to Duane without a word. He gave him a pen, watched\n him scrawl his name.\n\n\n \"That,\" he said, \"is better.\" He paused a moment ruminatively. \"It\n would have been better still if you'd not stalled me so long. I find\n that hard to forgive in my associates.\"\n\n\n \"The money,\" Peter said. If he were playing a part—pretending he knew\n what he was doing—he might as well play it to the hilt. \"When do I get\n it?\"\n\n\n Andrias picked up the paper and looked carefully at the signature. He\n creased it thoughtfully, stowed it in a pocket before answering.\n\n\n \"Naturally,\" he said, \"there will have to be a revision of terms. I\n offered a hundred and ten thousand Earth-dollars. I would have paid\n it—but you made me angry. You'll have to pay for that.\"\nDuane said, \"I've paid already. I've been dragged from pillar to post\n by you. That's enough. Pay me what you owe me, if you want any more of\n the same goods!\"\n\n\n That was a shot in the dark—and it missed the mark.\n\n\n Andrias' eyes widened. \"You amaze me, Duane,\" he said. He rose and\n stepped around the desk, confronting Duane. \"I almost think you really\n have lost your memory, Duane,\" he said. \"Otherwise, surely you would\n know that this is all the rifles I need. With them I'll\ntake\nwhatever\n else I want!\"\n\n\n Duane said, \"You're ready, then....\"\n\n\n He took time to think it over, but he knew that no thought was\n required. Already the hands that he had locked behind him were\n clenched, taut. Already the muscles of his legs were tensing.\n\n\n \"You're ready,\" he repeated. \"You've armed the Callistan exiles—the\n worst gutter scum on nine planets. You're set to betray the League that\n gave you power here.... Well, that changes things. I can't let you do\n it!\"\n\n\n He hurled himself at Andrias, hands sweeping around to grapple for the\n dark man's throat. Andrias, off-balance, staggered backward. But his\n own hands were diving for the twin heat guns that hung at his waist.\n\n\n Duane saw his danger, and reacted. His foot twisted around Andrias'\n ankle; his hands at the other's throat gripped tighter. He lunged\n forward, slamming the hard top of his head into the other's face,\n feeling flesh and cartilage give as Andrias' nose mashed flat. His own\n head pin-wheeled dizzily, agonizingly, as the jar revived the pain of\n his earlier accident.\n\n\n But Andrias, unconscious already, tumbled back with Duane on top of\n him. His head made an audible, spine-chilling thud as it hit the\n carpeted floor.\n\n\n Duane got up, retrieving the two heat guns, and stared at him.\n\n\n \"\nThey tell me I killed Stevens the same way\n,\" he thought. \"\nI'm\n getting in a rut!\n\"\n\n\n But Andrias was not dead, though he was out as cold as the void beyond\n Pluto. The thick carpeting had saved him from a broken head.\n\n\n Duane stepped over the unconscious man and looked around the room. It\n was furnished severely, to the point of barrenness. Two chairs before\n Andrias' ornate, bare-topped desk and one luxurious chair behind it;\n a tasseled bell cord within easy reach of Andrias' chair; the long\n carpet. That was all it contained.\n\n\n The problem of getting out was serious, he saw. How could one—\nIII\n\n\n Methodically he ransacked the drawers of Andrias' desk. Papers, a\n whole arsenal of hand guns, Callistan money by the bale, ominously\n black-covered notebooks with cryptic figures littering their\n pages—those were the contents. A coldly impersonal desk, without the\n familiar trivia most men accumulate. There was nothing, certainly, that\n would get him out of a building that so closely resembled a fortress.\n\n\n He tumbled the things back into the drawers helter-skelter, turned\n Andrias over and searched his pockets. More money—the man must have\n had a fortune within reach at all times—and a few meaningless papers.\n Duane took the release he had signed and tore it to shreds. But that\n was only a gesture. When Andrias came to, unless Duane had managed to\n get away and accomplish something, the mere lack of written permission\n would not keep him from the rocket's lethal cargo!\n\n\n When Andrias came to....\n\n\n An idea bloomed in Duane's brain. He looked, then, at unconscious\n Andrias—and the idea withered again.\n\n\n He had thought of forcing Andrias himself to front for him, at gun's\n point, in the conventional manner of escaping prisoners. But fist\n fights, fiction to the contrary notwithstanding, leave marks on the men\n who lose them. Andrias' throat was speckled with the livid marks of\n Duane's fingers; Duane's head, butting Andrias in the face, had drawn a\n thick stream of crimson from his nostrils, turned his sharp nose askew.\n\n\n No guard of Andrias' would have been deceived for an instant, looking\n at that face—even assuming that Andrias could have been forced to\n cooperate by the threat of a gun. Which, considering the stake Andrias\n had in this play, was doubtful....\n\n\n He stood up and looked around. He had to act quickly. Already Andrias'\n breath was audible; he saw the man grimace and an arm flopped\n spasmodically on the floor. Consciousness was on its way back.\n\n\n Duane touched the heat gun he'd thrust into his belt; drew it and held\n it poised, while he sought to discover what was in his own mind. He'd\n killed a man already, they said. Was he then a killer—could he shoot\n Andrias now, in cold blood, with so much to gain and nothing to lose?\n\n\n He stood there a moment. Then, abruptly, he reversed the weapon and\n chopped it down on Andrias' skull.\n\n\n There was a sharp grunt from the still unconscious man, but no other\n sign. Only—the first tremors of movement that had shown on him halted,\n and did not reappear.\n\n\n \"\nNo\n,\" Duane thought. \"\nWhatever they say, I'm not a killer!\n\"\n\n\n But still he had to get out. How?\n\n\n Once more he stared around the room, catalogued its contents. The guard\n would be getting impatient. Perhaps any minute he would tap the door,\n first timorously, then with heavier strokes.\n\n\n The guard! There was a way!\nDuane eyed the length of the room. Thirty feet—it would take him a\n couple of seconds to run it at full speed. Was that fast enough?\n\n\n There was only one way to find out.\n\n\n He walked around the desk to the bell cord. He took a deep breath,\n tugged it savagely, and at once was in speedy motion, racing toward the\n door, his footsteps muffled in the deep, springy carpet. Almost as he\n reached it, he saw it begin to open. He quickly sidestepped and was out\n of the guard's sight, behind the door, as the man looked in.\n\n\n Quick suspicion flared in his eyes, then certainty as he saw Andrias\n huddled on the floor. He opened his mouth to cry out—\n\n\n But Duane's arm was around his throat, and he had no breath to spare.\n Duane's foot lashed out and the door slammed shut; Duane's balled left\n fist came up and connected with the guard's chin. Abruptly the man\n slumped.\n\n\n Duane took a deep breath and let the man drop to the floor. But he\n paused only a second; now he had two unconscious men on his hands and\n he dared let neither revive until he was prepared.\n\n\n He grasped the guard's arm and dragged him roughly the length of the\n room. He leaped on top of the desk, brutally scarring its gleaming top\n with the hard spikes of his boots. His agile fingers unfastened the\n long bell cord without causing it to ring and, bearing it, he dropped\n again to the floor.\n\n\n Tugging and straining, he got the limp form of Andrias into his own\n chair, bound him with the bell cord, gagged him with the priceless\n Venus-wool scarf Andrias wore knotted about his throat. He tested his\n bindings with full strength, and smiled. Those would hold, let Andrias\n struggle as he would.\n\n\n The guard he stripped of clothing, bound and gagged with his own\n belt and spaceman's kerchief. He dragged him around behind the desk,\n thrust him under it out of sight. Andrias' chair he turned so that the\n unconscious face was averted from the door. Should anyone look in,\n then, the fact of Andrias' unconsciousness might not be noticed.\n\n\n Then he took off his own clothes, quickly assumed the field-gray\n uniform of the guard. It fit like the skin of a fruit. He felt himself\n bulging out of it in a dozen places. The long cape the guard wore would\n conceal that, perhaps. In any case, there was nothing better.\n\n\n Trying to make his stride as martial as possible, he walked down the\n long carpet to the door, opened it and stepped outside.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why were Duane and Stevens fighting?\n", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_1", "options": ["Andrias had promised Stevens $100,000", "Stevens wanted to keep $50,000 of Duane's money", "Stevens wanted to keep $40,000 of Duane's money", "Duane had been promised $50,000"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the fight between Duane and Stevens end?", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_2", "options": ["Duane pulled a gun on Stevens", "They floated weightless into the corridor", "They were both knocked unconscious", "Duane killed Stevens"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Duane say he did not recognize the girl?", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_3", "options": ["His eyes were covered", "He had a head injury", "He had killed someone", "He was playing dumb"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Andrias feel uncertain?", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_4", "options": ["He wasn't sure if people would follow his orders", "He was afraid he might not get the cargo", "He wasn't sure whether Duane had lost his memory or not", "He wondered how deadly Duane was"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Andrias feel about the league?", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_5", "options": ["He wants to usurp their power", "He is grateful they made him governor of Callisto", "He is loyal", "He believes the league cannot be stopped"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the cargo Duane and Stevens are transporting?", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_6", "options": ["420 cases of dehydrated foods and drilling supplies", "800 guns", "tools", "4000 guns"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would most likely have happened if Andrias had not waved out the guard?", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_7", "options": ["Duane would not have turned over the cargo", "Duane would not have escaped", "Duane would not have signed the paper", "Andrias would have died"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Duane not kill Andrias?", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_8", "options": ["He tried to kill him but failed", "He did not have the opportunity to kill him", "He did kill him", "He did not want to be a killer"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Duane ring the bell?", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_9", "options": ["To call a guard because he was done signing", "To begin his escape plan", "To call help for Andrias", "To signal the course change"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Duane feel in the guard's clothing?", "question_unique_id": "62476_0WTVH8V9_10", "options": ["uncomfortable", "sleek", "martial", "fruitful"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/4/7/62476//62476-h//62476-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63041", "set_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Morgue Ship", "year": 1954, "author": "Bradbury, Ray", "topic": "Space ships -- Fiction; PS; War stories; Short stories; Science fiction; Morgues -- Fiction", "article": "Morgue Ship\nBy RAY BRADBURY\nThis was Burnett's last trip. Three more\n\n shelves to fill with space-slain warriors—and\n\n he would be among the living again.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1944.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHe heard the star-port grind open, and the movement of the metal claws\n groping into space, and then the star-port closed.\n\n\n There was another dead man aboard the\nConstellation\n.\n\n\n Sam Burnett shook his long head, trying to think clearly. Pallid and\n quiet, three bodies lay on the cold transparent tables around him;\n machines stirred, revolved, hummed. He didn't see them. He didn't see\n anything but a red haze over his mind. It blotted out the far wall of\n the laboratory where the shelves went up and down, numbered in scarlet,\n keeping the bodies of soldiers from all further harm.\n\n\n Burnett didn't move. He stood there in his rumpled white surgical\n gown, staring at his fingers gloved in bone-white rubber; feeling all\n tight and wild inside himself. It went on for days. Moving the ship.\n Opening the star-port. Extending the retriever claw. Plucking some poor\n warrior's body out of the void.\n\n\n He didn't like it any more. Ten years is too long to go back and\n forth from Earth to nowhere. You came out empty and you went back\n full-cargoed with a lot of warriors who didn't laugh or talk or smoke,\n who just lay on their shelves, all one hundred of them, waiting for a\n decent burial.\n\n\n \"Number ninety-eight.\" Coming matter of fact and slow, Rice's voice\n from the ceiling radio hit Burnett.\n\n\n \"Number ninety-eight,\" Burnett repeated. \"Working on ninety-five,\n ninety-six and ninety-seven now. Blood-pumps, preservative, slight\n surgery.\" Off a million miles away his voice was talking. It sounded\n deep. It didn't belong to him anymore.\n\n\n Rice said:\n\n\n \"Boyohbody! Two more pick-ups and back to New York. Me for a ten-day\n drunk!\"\n\n\n Burnett peeled the gloves off his huge, red, soft hands, slapped them\n into a floor incinerator mouth. Back to Earth. Then spin around and\n shoot right out again in the trail of the war-rockets that blasted one\n another in galactic fury, to sidle up behind gutted wrecks of ships,\n salvaging any bodies still intact after the conflict.\n\n\n Two men. Rice and himself. Sharing a cozy morgue ship with a hundred\n other men who had forgotten, quite suddenly, however, to talk again.\n\n\n Ten years of it. Every hour of those ten years eating like maggots\n inside, working out to the surface of Burnett's face, working under the\n husk of his starved eyes and starved limbs. Starved for life. Starved\n for action.\n\n\n This would be his last trip, or he'd know the reason why!\n\n\n \"Sam!\"\n\n\n Burnett jerked. Rice's voice clipped through the drainage-preservative\n lab, bounded against glassite retorts, echoed from the refrigerator\n shelves. Burnett stared at the tabled bodies as if they would leap to\n life, even while preservative was being pumped into their veins.\n\n\n \"Sam! On the double! Up the rungs!\"\n\n\n Burnett closed his eyes and said a couple of words, firmly. Nothing was\n worth running for any more. Another body. There had been one hundred\n thousand bodies preceding it. Nothing unusual about a body with blood\n cooling in it.\nShaking his head, he walked unsteadily toward the rungs that gleamed\n up into the air-lock, control-room sector of the rocket. He climbed\n without making any noise on the rungs.\n\n\n He kept thinking the one thing he couldn't forget.\nYou never catch up with the war.\nAll the color is ahead of you. The drive of orange rocket traces across\n stars, the whamming of steel-nosed bombs into elusive targets, the\n titanic explosions and breathless pursuits, the flags and the excited\n glory are always a million miles ahead.\n\n\n He bit his teeth together.\nYou never catch up with the war.\nYou come along when space has settled back, when the vacuum has stopped\n trembling from unleashed forces between worlds. You come along in the\n dark quiet of death to find the wreckage plunging with all the fury of\n its original acceleration in no particular direction. You can only see\n it; you don't hear anything in space but your own heart kicking your\n ribs.\n\n\n You see bodies, each in its own terrific orbit, given impetus by\n grinding collisions, tossed from mother ships and dancing head over\n feet forever and forever with no goal. Bits of flesh in ruptured space\n suits, mouths open for air that had never been there in a hundred\n billion centuries. And they kept dancing without music until you\n extended the retriever-claw and culled them into the air-lock.\n\n\n That was all the war-glory he got. Nothing but the stunned, shivering\n silence, the memory of rockets long gone, and the shelves filling up\n all too quickly with men who had once loved laughing.\n\n\n You wondered who all the men were; and who the next ones would be.\n After ten years you made yourself blind to them. You went around doing\n your job with mechanical hands.\n\n\n But even a machine breaks down....\n\"Sam!\" Rice turned swiftly as Burnett dragged himself up the ladder.\n Red and warm, Rice's face hovered over the body of a sprawled enemy\n official. \"Take a look at this!\"\n\n\n Burnett caught his breath. His eyes narrowed. There was something wrong\n with the body; his experienced glance knew that. He didn't know what it\n was.\n\n\n Maybe it was because the body looked a little\ntoo\ndead.\n\n\n Burnett didn't say anything, but he climbed the rest of the way,\n stood quietly in the grey-metal air-lock. The enemy official was as\n delicately made as a fine white spider. Eyelids, closed, were faintly\n blue. The hair was thin silken strands of pale gold, waved and pressed\n close to a veined skull. Where the thin-lipped mouth fell open a\n cluster of needle-tipped teeth glittered. The fragile body was enclosed\n completely in milk-pale syntha-silk, a holstered gun at the middle.\n\n\n Burnett rubbed his jaw. \"Well?\"\n\n\n Rice exploded. His eyes were hot in his young, sharp-cut face, hot and\n black. \"Good Lord, Sam, do you know who this is?\"\n\n\n Burnett scowled uneasily and said no.\n\n\n \"It's Lethla!\" Rice retorted.\n\n\n Burnett said, \"Lethla?\" And then: \"Oh, yes! Kriere's majordomo. That\n right?\"\n\n\n \"Don't say it calm, Sam. Say it big. Say it big! If Lethla is here in\n space, then Kriere's not far away from him!\"\n\n\n Burnett shrugged. More bodies, more people, more war. What the hell.\n What the hell. He was tired. Talk about bodies and rulers to someone\n else.\n\n\n Rice grabbed him by the shoulders. \"Snap out of it, Sam. Think!\n Kriere—The All-Mighty—in our territory. His right hand man dead. That\n means Kriere was in an accident, too!\"\n\n\n Sam opened his thin lips and the words fell out all by themselves.\n \"Look, Rice, you're new at this game. I've been at it ever since the\n Venus-Earth mess started. It's been see-sawing back and forth since the\n day you played hookey in the tenth grade, and I've been in the thick\n of it. When there's nothing left but seared memories, I'll be prowling\n through the void picking up warriors and taking them back to the good\n green Earth. Grisly, yes, but it's routine.\n\n\n \"As for Kriere—if he's anywhere around, he's smart. Every precaution\n is taken to protect that one.\"\n\n\n \"But Lethla! His body must mean something!\"\n\n\n \"And if it does? Have we got guns aboard this morgue-ship? Are we a\n battle-cuiser to go against him?\"\n\n\n \"We'll radio for help?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah? If there's a warship within our radio range, seven hundred\n thousand miles, we'll get it. Unfortunately, the tide of battle has\n swept out past Earth in a new war concerning Io. That's out, Rice.\"\n\n\n Rice stood about three inches below Sam Burnett's six-foot-one. Jaw\n hard and determined, he stared at Sam, a funny light in his eyes. His\n fingers twitched all by themselves at his sides. His mouth twisted,\n \"You're one hell of a patriot, Sam Burnett!\"\n\n\n Burnett reached out with one long finger, tapped it quietly on Rice's\n barrel-chest. \"Haul a cargo of corpses for three thousand nights and\n days and see how patriotic you feel. All those fine muscled lads\n bloated and crushed by space pressures and heat-blasts. Fine lads who\n start out smiling and get the smile burned off down to the bone—\"\n\n\n Burnett swallowed and didn't say anything more, but he closed his eyes.\n He stood there, smelling the death-odor in the hot air of the ship,\n hearing the chug-chug-chug of the blood pumps down below, and his own\n heart waiting warm and heavy at the base of his throat.\n\n\n \"This is my last cargo, Rice. I can't take it any longer. And I don't\n care much how I go back to earth. This Venusian here—what's his name?\n Lethla. He's number ninety-eight. Shove me into shelf ninety-nine\n beside him and get the hell home. That's how I feel!\"\n\n\n Rice was going to say something, but he didn't have time.\n\n\n Lethla was alive.\n\n\n He rose from the floor with slow, easy movements, almost like a dream.\n He didn't say anything. The heat-blast in his white fingers did all the\n necessary talking. It didn't say anything either, but Burnett knew what\n language it would use if it had to.\n\n\n Burnett swallowed hard. The body had looked funny. Too dead. Now he\n knew why. Involuntarily, Burnett moved forward. Lethla moved like a\n pale spider, flicking his fragile arm to cover Burnett, the gun in it\n like a dead cold star.\n\n\n Rice sucked in his breath. Burnett forced himself to take it easy. From\n the corners of his eyes he saw Rice's expression go deep and tight,\n biting lines into his sharp face.\n\n\n Rice got it out, finally. \"How'd you do it?\" he demanded, bitterly.\n \"How'd you live in the void? It's impossible!\"\n\n\n A crazy thought came ramming down and exploded in Burnett's head.\nYou\n never catch up with the war!\nBut what if the war catches up with you?\n\n\n What in hell would Lethla be wanting aboard a morgue ship?\nLethla half-crouched in the midst of the smell of death and the\n chugging of blood-pumps below. In the silence he reached up with quick\n fingers, tapped a tiny crystal stud upon the back of his head, and the\n halves of a microscopically thin chrysalis parted transparently off\n of his face. He shucked it off, trailing air-tendrils that had been\n inserted, hidden in the uniform, ending in thin globules of oxygen.\n\n\n He spoke. Triumph warmed his crystal-thin voice. \"That's how I did it,\n Earthman.\"\n\n\n \"Glassite!\" said Rice. \"A face-moulded mask of glassite!\"\n\n\n Lethla nodded. His milk-blue eyes dilated. \"Very marvelously pared to\n an unbreakable thickness of one-thirtieth of an inch; worn only on the\n head. You have to look quickly to notice it, and, unfortunately, viewed\n as you saw it, outside the ship, floating in the void, not discernible\n at all.\"\n\n\n Prickles of sweat appeared on Rice's face. He swore at the Venusian and\n the Venusian laughed like some sort of stringed instrument, high and\n quick.\n\n\n Burnett laughed, too. Ironically. \"First time in years a man ever came\n aboard the Constellation alive. It's a welcome change.\"\n\n\n Lethla showed his needle-like teeth. \"I thought it might be. Where's\n your radio?\"\n\n\n \"Go find it!\" snapped Rice, hotly.\n\n\n \"I will.\" One hand, blue-veined, on the ladder-rungs, Lethla paused.\n \"I know you're weaponless; Purple Cross regulations. And this air-lock\n is safe. Don't move.\" Whispering, his naked feet padded white up the\n ladder. Two long breaths later something crashed; metal and glass and\n coils. The radio.\n\n\n Burnett put his shoulder blades against the wall-metal, looking at his\n feet. When he glanced up, Rice's fresh, animated face was spoiled by\n the new bitterness in it.\n\n\n Lethla came down. Like a breath of air on the rungs.\n\n\n He smiled. \"That's better. Now. We can talk—\"\n\n\n Rice said it, slow:\n\n\n \"Interplanetary law declares it straight, Lethla! Get out! Only dead\n men belong here.\"\n\n\n Lethla's gun grip tightened. \"More talk of that nature, and only dead\n men there will be.\" He blinked. \"But first—we must rescue Kriere....\"\n\n\n \"Kriere!\" Rice acted as if he had been hit in the jaw.\n\n\n Burnett moved his tongue back and forth on his lips silently, his eyes\n lidded, listening to the two of them as if they were a radio drama.\n Lethla's voice came next:\n\n\n \"Rather unfortunately, yes. He's still alive, heading toward Venus\n at an orbital velocity of two thousand m.p.h., wearing one of these\n air-chrysali. Enough air for two more hours. Our flag ship was attacked\n unexpectedly yesterday near Mars. We were forced to take to the\n life-boats, scattering, Kriere and I in one, the others sacrificing\n their lives to cover our escape. We were lucky. We got through the\n Earth cordon unseen. But luck can't last forever.\n\n\n \"We saw your morgue ship an hour ago. It's a long, long way to Venus.\n We were running out of fuel, food, water. Radio was broken. Capture\n was certain. You were coming our way; we took the chance. We set a\n small time-bomb to destroy the life-rocket, and cast off, wearing our\n chrysali-helmets. It was the first time we had ever tried using them to\n trick anyone. We knew you wouldn't know we were alive until it was too\n late and we controlled your ship. We knew you picked up all bodies for\n brief exams, returning alien corpses to space later.\"\n\n\n Rice's voice was sullen. \"A set-up for you, huh? Traveling under the\n protection of the Purple Cross you can get your damned All-Mighty safe\n to Venus.\"\n\n\n Lethla bowed slightly. \"Who would suspect a Morgue Rocket of providing\n safe hiding for precious Venusian cargo?\"\n\n\n \"Precious is the word for you, brother!\" said Rice.\n\n\n \"Enough!\" Lethla moved his gun several inches.\n\n\n \"Accelerate toward Venus, mote-detectors wide open. Kriere must be\n picked up—\nnow!\n\"\nRice didn't move. Burnett moved first, feeling alive for the first time\n in years. \"Sure,\" said Sam, smiling. \"We'll pick him up.\"\n\n\n \"No tricks,\" said Lethla.\n\n\n Burnett scowled and smiled together. \"No tricks. You'll have Kriere on\n board the\nConstellation\nin half an hour or I'm no coroner.\"\n\n\n \"Follow me up the ladder.\"\n\n\n Lethla danced up, turned, waved his gun. \"Come on.\"\n\n\n Burnett went up, quick. Almost as if he enjoyed doing Lethla a favor.\n Rice grumbled and cursed after him.\n\n\n On the way up, Burnett thought about it. About Lethla poised like\n a white feather at the top, holding death in his hand. You never\n knew whose body would come in through the star-port next. Number\n ninety-eight was Lethla. Number ninety-nine would be Kriere.\n\n\n There were two shelves numbered and empty. They should be filled. And\n what more proper than that Kriere and Lethla should fill them? But, he\n chewed his lip, that would need a bit of doing. And even then the cargo\n wouldn't be full. Still one more body to get; one hundred. And you\n never knew who it would be.\n\n\n He came out of the quick thoughts when he looped his long leg over\n the hole-rim, stepped up, faced Lethla in a cramped control room that\n was one glittering swirl of silver levers, audio-plates and visuals.\n Chronometers, clicking, told of the steady dropping toward the sun at a\n slow pace.\n\n\n Burnett set his teeth together, bone against bone. Help Kriere escape?\n See him safely to Venus, and then be freed? Sounded easy, wouldn't be\n hard. Venusians weren't blind with malice. Rice and he could come out\n alive; if they cooperated.\n\n\n But there were a lot of warriors sleeping on a lot of numbered shelves\n in the dim corridors of the long years. And their dead lips were\n stirring to life in Burnett's ears. Not so easily could they be ignored.\nYou may never catch up with the war again.\nThe last trip!\n\n\n Yes, this could be it. Capture Kriere and end the war. But what\n ridiculous fantasy was it made him believe he could actually do it?\n\n\n Two muscles moved on Burnett, one in each long cheek. The sag in his\n body vanished as he tautened his spine, flexed his lean-sinewed arms,\n wet thin lips.\n\n\n \"Now, where do you want this crate?\" he asked Lethla easily.\n\n\n Lethla exhaled softly. \"Cooperation. I like it. You're wise, Earthman.\"\n\n\n \"Very,\" said Burnett.\n\n\n He was thinking about three thousand eternal nights of young bodies\n being ripped, slaughtered, flung to the vacuum tides. Ten years of\n hating a job and hoping that some day there would be a last trip and it\n would all be over.\n\n\n Burnett laughed through his nose. Controls moved under his fingers like\n fluid; loved, caressed, tended by his familiar touching. Looking ahead,\n he squinted.\n\n\n \"There's your Ruler now, Lethla. Doing somersaults. Looks dead. A good\n trick.\"\n\n\n \"Cut power! We don't want to burn him!\"\nBurnett cut. Kriere's milky face floated dreamily into a visual-screen,\n eyes sealed, lips gaping, hands sagging, clutching emptily at the stars.\n\n\n \"We're about fifty miles from him, catching up.\" Burnett turned to\n Lethla with an intent scowl. Funny. This was the first and the last\n time anybody would ever board the\nConstellation\nalive. His stomach\n went flat, tautened with sudden weakening fear.\n\n\n If Kriere could be captured, that meant the end of the war, the end\n of shelves stacked with sleeping warriors, the end of this blind\n searching. Kriere, then, had to be taken aboard. After that—\n\n\n Kriere, the All-Mighty. At whose behest all space had quivered like\n a smitten gong for part of a century. Kriere, revolving in his neat,\n water-blue uniform, emblems shining gold, heat-gun tucked in glossy\n jet holster. With Kriere aboard, chances of overcoming him would be\n eliminated. Now: Rice and Burnett against Lethla. Lethla favored\n because of his gun.\n\n\n Kriere would make odds impossible.\n\n\n Something had to be done before Kriere came in.\n\n\n Lethla had to be yanked off guard. Shocked, bewildered,\n fooled—somehow. But—how?\n\n\n Burnett's jaw froze tight. He could feel a spot on his shoulder-blade\n where Lethla would send a bullet crashing into rib, sinew,\n artery—heart.\n\n\n There was a way. And there was a weapon. And the war would be over and\n this would be the last trip.\n\n\n Sweat covered his palms in a nervous smear.\n\n\n \"Steady, Rice,\" he said, matter of factly. With the rockets cut, there\n was too much silence, and his voice sounded guilty standing up alone in\n the center of that silence. \"Take controls, Rice. I'll manipulate the\n star-port.\"\n\n\n Burnett slipped from the control console. Rice replaced him grimly.\n Burnett strode to the next console of levers. That spot on his back\n kept aching like it was sear-branded X. For the place where the bullet\n sings and rips. And if you turn quick, catching it in the arm first,\n why—\n\n\n Kriere loomed bigger, a white spider delicately dancing on a web of\n stars. His eyes flicked open behind the glassite sheath, and saw the\nConstellation\n. Kriere smiled. His hands came up. He knew he was about\n to be rescued.\n\n\n Burnett smiled right back at him. What Kriere didn't know was that he\n was about to end a ten-years' war.\n\n\n There was only\none\nway of drawing Lethla off guard, and it had to be\n fast.\n\n\n Burnett jabbed a purple-topped stud. The star-port clashed open as\n it had done a thousand times before; but for the first time it was a\n good sound. And out of the star-port, at Sam Burnett's easily fingered\n directions, slid the long claw-like mechanism that picked up bodies\n from space.\n\n\n Lethla watched, intent and cold and quiet. The gun was cold and quiet,\n too.\n\n\n The claw glided toward Kriere without a sound, now, dream-like in its\n slowness.\n\n\n It reached Kriere.\n\n\n Burnett inhaled a deep breath.\n\n\n The metal claw cuddled Kriere in its shiny palm.\nLethla watched.\n\n\n He watched while Burnett exhaled, touched another lever and said: \"You\n know, Lethla, there's an old saying that only dead men come aboard the\nConstellation\n. I believe it.\"\nAnd the claw closed as Burnett spoke, closed slowly and certainly, all\n around Kriere, crushing him into a ridiculous posture of silence. There\n was blood running on the claw, and the only recognizable part was the\n head, which was carefully preserved for identification.\n\n\n That was the only way to draw Lethla off guard.\n\n\n Burnett spun about and leaped.\n\n\n The horror on Lethla's face didn't go away as he fired his gun.\n\n\n Rice came in fighting, too, but not before something like a red-hot\n ramrod stabbed Sam Burnett, catching him in the ribs, spinning him back\n like a drunken idiot to fall in a corner.\n\n\n Fists made blunt flesh noises. Lethla went down, weaponless and\n screaming. Rice kicked. After awhile Lethla quit screaming, and the\n room swam around in Burnett's eyes, and he closed them tight and\n started laughing.\n\n\n He didn't finish laughing for maybe ten minutes. He heard the retriever\n claws come inside, and the star-port grind shut.\n\n\n Out of the red darkness, Rice's voice came and then he could see Rice's\n young face over him. Burnett groaned.\n\n\n Rice said, \"Sam, you shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have, Sam.\"\n\n\n \"To hell with it.\" Burnett winced, and fought to keep his eyes open.\n Something wet and sticky covered his chest. \"I said this was my last\n trip and I meant it. One way or the other, I'd have quit!\"\n\n\n \"This is the hard way—\"\n\n\n \"Maybe. I dunno. Kind of nice to think of all those kids who'll never\n have to come aboard the\nConstellation\n, though, Rice.\" His voice\n trailed off. \"You watch the shelves fill up and you never know who'll\n be next. Who'd have thought, four days ago—\"\n\n\n Something happened to his tongue so it felt like hard ice blocking his\n mouth. He had a lot more words to say, but only time to get a few of\n them out:\n\n\n \"Rice?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah, Sam?\"\n\n\n \"We haven't got a full cargo, boy.\"\n\n\n \"Full enough for me, sir.\"\n\n\n \"But still not full. If we went back to Center Base without filling\n the shelves, it wouldn't be right. Look there—number ninety-eight is\n Lethla—number ninety-nine is Kriere. Three thousand days of rolling\n this rocket, and not once come back without a bunch of the kids who\n want to sleep easy on the good green earth. Not right to be going back\n any way—but—the way—we used to—\"\n\n\n His voice got all full of fog. As thick as the fists of a dozen\n warriors. Rice was going away from him. Rice was standing still, and\n Burnett was lying down, not moving, but somehow Rice was going away a\n million miles.\n\n\n \"Ain't I one hell of a patriot, Rice?\"\n\n\n Then everything got dark except Rice's face. And that was starting to\n dissolve.\n\n\n Ninety-eight: Lethla. Ninety-nine: Kriere.\n\n\n He could still see Rice standing over him for a long time, breathing\n out and in. Down under the tables the blood-pumps pulsed and pulsed,\n thick and slow. Rice looked down at Burnett and then at the empty shelf\n at the far end of the room, and then back at Burnett again.\n\n\n And then he said softly:\n\n\n \"\nOne hundred.\n\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which of the following is a false statement about the 98th corpse to be acquired by the ship?", "question_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG_1", "options": ["He travelled to Earth", "He turned on his superior", "He was a person of power in the opposition", "He was playing dead when found"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How long have the Venusians and Earth been in conflict?", "question_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG_2", "options": ["A decade", "Since Earthlings discovered interplanetary travel", "Since Venus was colonized", "A century"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Burnett die?", "question_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG_3", "options": ["Betrayal by Rice", "Casualty of fight with Lethla", "Ejection into space", "Suicide "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many times did Burnett operate the claw in the passage?", "question_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG_4", "options": ["Three", "Two", "Four", "One"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What likely happened to Rice in the end?", "question_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG_5", "options": ["He returned to Earth", "He died of his wounds", "He went to Venus", "He continued to collect bodies until the ship was full"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Burnett’s greatest motivation to collect the 99th body?", "question_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG_6", "options": ["He saw a way to end the conflict", "Finally something exciting was happening on the ship", "He wanted to learn more about the mechanism to breathe in space", "He wanted to go home"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Lethla come aboard the morgue ship?", "question_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG_7", "options": ["There were only two living people on the ship to overcome", "The ship had invisibility technology", "The ship had safe passage ", "The ship had the specialized claw to retrieve Kriere"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are Earth and Venus at war?", "question_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG_8", "options": ["To maintain control of the solar system", "It is not revealed", "Venusians tried to colonize Earth", "Earth provoked the Venusians"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What do we learn of the relationship between Rice and Burnett?", "question_unique_id": "63041_SC73PXBG_9", "options": ["They served together in combat", "They are brothers", "They are work colleagues", "They are long time friends"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/0/4/63041//63041-h//63041-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "30035", "set_unique_id": "30035_SLGX7NNR", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Off Course", "year": 1950, "author": "Reynolds, Mack", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "Shure and begorra, it was a great day for the Earth! The\n first envoy from another world was about to speak—that\n is, if he could forget that horse for a minute....\noff course\nBy Mack Reynolds\nIllustrated by Kelly Freas\nFirst on\n the scene were Larry\n Dermott and Tim Casey of the\n State Highway Patrol. They assumed\n they were witnessing the\n crash of a new type of Air Force\n plane and slipped and skidded desperately\n across the field to within\n thirty feet of the strange craft, only\n to discover that the landing had\n been made without accident.\n\n\n Patrolman Dermott shook his\n head. \"They're gettin' queerer looking\n every year. Get a load of it—no\n wheels, no propeller, no cockpit.\"\n\n\n They left the car and made their\n way toward the strange egg-shaped\n vessel.\n\n\n Tim Casey loosened his .38 in its\n holster and said, \"Sure, and I'm\n beginning to wonder if it's one of\n ours. No insignia and—\"\n\n\n A circular door slid open at that\n point and Dameri Tass stepped out,\n yawning. He spotted them, smiled\n and said, \"Glork.\"\n\n\n They gaped at him.\n\n\n \"Glork is right,\" Dermott swallowed.\n\n\n Tim Casey closed his mouth with\n an effort. \"Do you mind the color\n of his face?\" he blurted.\n\n\n \"How could I help it?\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass rubbed a blue-nailed\n pink hand down his purplish countenance\n and yawned again. \"Gorra\n manigan horp soratium,\" he said.\n\n\n Patrolman Dermott and Patrolman\n Casey shot stares at each other.\n \"'Tis double talk he's after givin'\n us,\" Casey said.\n\n\n Dameri Tass frowned. \"Harama?\"\n he asked.\n\n\n Larry Dermott pushed his cap to\n the back of his head. \"That doesn't\n sound like any language I've even\nheard\nabout.\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass grimaced, turned\n and reentered his spacecraft to\n emerge in half a minute with his\n hands full of contraption. He held\n a box-like arrangement under his\n left arm; in his right hand were two\n metal caps connected to the box\n by wires.\n\n\n While the patrolmen watched\n him, he set the box on the ground,\n twirled two dials and put one of the\n caps on his head. He offered the\n other to Larry Dermott; his desire\n was obvious.\n\n\n Trained to grasp a situation and\n immediately respond in manner best\n suited to protect the welfare of the\n people of New York State, Dermott\n cleared his throat and said, \"Tim,\n take over while I report.\"\n\n\n \"Hey!\" Casey protested, but his\n fellow minion had left.\n\n\n \"Mandaia,\" Dameri Tass told\n Casey, holding out the metal cap.\n\n\n \"Faith, an' do I look balmy?\"\n Casey told him. \"I wouldn't be\n puttin' that dingus on my head for\n all the colleens in Ireland.\"\n\n\n \"Mandaia,\" the stranger said\n impatiently.\n\n\n \"Bejasus,\" Casey snorted, \"ye\n can't—\"\n\n\n Dermott called from the car,\n \"Tim, the captain says to humor\n this guy. We're to keep him here\n until the officials arrive.\"\n\n\n Tim Casey closed his eyes and\n groaned. \"Humor him, he's after\n sayin'. Orders it is.\" He shouted\n back, \"Sure, an' did ye tell 'em he's\n in technicolor? Begorra, he looks\n like a man from Mars.\"\n\n\n \"That's what they think,\" Larry\n yelled, \"and the governor is on his\n way. We're to do everything possible\n short of violence to keep this\n character here. Humor him, Tim!\"\n\n\n \"Mandaia,\" Dameri Tass\n snapped, pushing the cap into\n Casey's reluctant hands.\n\n\n Muttering his protests, Casey\n lifted it gingerly and placed it on\n his head. Not feeling any immediate\n effect, he said, \"There, 'tis satisfied\n ye are now, I'm supposin'.\"\n\n\n The alien stooped down and\n flicked a switch on the little box.\n It hummed gently. Tim Casey suddenly\n shrieked and sat down on the\n stubble and grass of the field. \"Begorra,\"\n he yelped, \"I've been murthered!\"\n He tore the cap from\n his head.\n\n\n His companion came running,\n \"What's the matter, Tim?\" he\n shouted.\n\n\n Dameri Tass removed the metal\n cap from his own head. \"Sure, an'\n nothin' is after bein' the matter\n with him,\" he said. \"Evidently the\n bhoy has niver been a-wearin' of\n a kerit helmet afore. 'Twill hurt\n him not at all.\"\n\"You can\n talk!\" Dermott\n blurted, skidding to a stop.\n\n\n Dameri Tass shrugged. \"Faith, an'\n why not? As I was after sayin', I\n shared the kerit helmet with Tim\n Casey.\"\n\n\n Patrolman Dermott glared at him\n unbelievingly. \"You learned the\n language just by sticking that Rube\n Goldberg deal on Tim's head?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, an' why not?\"\n\n\n Dermott muttered, \"And with it\n he has to pick up the corniest\n brogue west of Dublin.\"\n\n\n Tim Casey got to his feet indignantly.\n \"I'm after resentin' that,\n Larry Dermott. Sure, an' the way\n we talk in Ireland is—\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass interrupted, pointing\n to a bedraggled horse that had\n made its way to within fifty feet of\n the vessel. \"Now what could that\n be after bein'?\"\n\n\n The patrolmen followed his stare.\n \"It's a horse. What else?\"\n\n\n \"A horse?\"\n\n\n Larry Dermott looked again, just\n to make sure. \"Yeah—not much of\n a horse, but a horse.\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass sighed ecstatically.\n \"And jist what is a horse, if I may\n be so bold as to be askin'?\"\n\n\n \"It's an animal you ride on.\"\n\n\n The alien tore his gaze from the\n animal to look his disbelief at the\n other. \"Are you after meanin' that\n you climb upon the crature's back\n and ride him? Faith now, quit your\n blarney.\"\n\n\n He looked at the horse again,\n then down at his equipment. \"Begorra,\"\n he muttered, \"I'll share the\n kerit helmet with the crature.\"\n\n\n \"Hey, hold it,\" Dermott said anxiously.\n He was beginning to feel\n like a character in a shaggy dog\n story.\n\n\n Interest in the horse was ended\n with the sudden arrival of a helicopter.\n It swooped down on the\n field and settled within twenty feet\n of the alien craft. Almost before it\n had touched, the door was flung\n open and the flying windmill disgorged\n two bestarred and efficient-looking\n Army officers.\n\n\n Casey and Dermott snapped them\n a salute.\n\n\n The senior general didn't take\n his eyes from the alien and the\n spacecraft as he spoke, and they\n bugged quite as effectively as had\n those of the patrolmen when they'd\n first arrived on the scene.\n\n\n \"I'm Major General Browning,\"\n he rapped. \"I want a police cordon\n thrown up around this, er, vessel.\n No newsmen, no sightseers, nobody\n without my permission. As soon as\n Army personnel arrives, we'll take\n over completely.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Larry Dermott said. \"I\n just got a report on the radio that\n the governor is on his way, sir. How\n about him?\"\n\n\n The general muttered something\n under his breath. Then, \"When the\n governor arrives, let me know;\n otherwise, nobody gets through!\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass said, \"Faith, and\n what goes on?\"\n\n\n The general's eyes bugged still\n further. \"\nHe talks!\n\" he accused.\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Dermott said. \"He\n had some kind of a machine. He\n put it over Tim's head and seconds\n later he could talk.\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense!\" the general snapped.\n\n\n Further discussion was interrupted\n by the screaming arrival of\n several motorcycle patrolmen followed\n by three heavily laden patrol\n cars. Overhead, pursuit planes\n zoomed in and began darting about\n nervously above the field.\n\n\n \"Sure, and it's quite a reception\n I'm after gettin',\" Dameri Tass said.\n He yawned. \"But what I'm wantin'\n is a chance to get some sleep. Faith,\n an' I've been awake for almost a\ndecal\n.\"\nDameri Tass\n was hurried, via\n helicopter, to Washington. There\n he disappeared for several days,\n being held incommunicado while\n White House, Pentagon, State Department\n and Congress tried to\n figure out just what to do with him.\n\n\n Never in the history of the planet\n had such a furor arisen. Thus far,\n no newspapermen had been allowed\n within speaking distance. Administration\n higher-ups were being subjected\n to a volcano of editorial heat\n but the longer the space alien was\n discussed the more they viewed with\n alarm the situation his arrival had\n precipitated. There were angles that\n hadn't at first been evident.\n\n\n Obviously he was from some civilization\n far beyond that of Earth's.\n That was the rub. No matter what\n he said, it would shake governments,\n possibly overthrow social systems,\n perhaps even destroy established religious\n concepts.\n\n\n But they couldn't keep him under\n wraps indefinitely.\n\n\n It was the United Nations that\n cracked the iron curtain. Their demands\n that the alien be heard before\n their body were too strong and\n had too much public opinion behind\n them to be ignored. The White\n House yielded and the date was set\n for the visitor to speak before the\n Assembly.\n\n\n Excitement, anticipation, blanketed\n the world. Shepherds in Sinkiang,\n multi-millionaires in Switzerland,\n fakirs in Pakistan, gauchos in\n the Argentine were raised to a\n zenith of expectation. Panhandlers\n debated the message to come with\n pedestrians; jinrikisha men argued\n it with their passengers; miners discussed\n it deep beneath the surface;\n pilots argued with their co-pilots\n thousands of feet above.\n\n\n It was the most universally\n awaited event of the ages.\n\n\n By the time the delegates from\n every nation, tribe, religion, class,\n color, and race had gathered in\n New York to receive the message\n from the stars, the majority of\n Earth had decided that Dameri\n Tass was the plenipotentiary of a\n super-civilization which had been\n viewing developments on this planet\n with misgivings. It was thought\n this other civilization had advanced\n greatly beyond Earth's and that the\n problems besetting us—social, economic,\n scientific—had been solved\n by the super-civilization. Obviously,\n then, Dameri Tass had come, an\n advisor from a benevolent and\n friendly people, to guide the world\n aright.\n\n\n And nine-tenths of the population\n of Earth stood ready and willing\n to be guided. The other tenth\n liked things as they were and were\n quite convinced that the space\n envoy would upset their applecarts.\nViljalmar Andersen\n , Secretary-General\n of the U.N., was to\n introduce the space emissary. \"Can\n you give me an idea at all of what\n he is like?\" he asked nervously.\n\n\n President McCord was as upset\n as the Dane. He shrugged in agitation.\n \"I know almost as little as\n you do.\"\n\n\n Sir Alfred Oxford protested, \"But\n my dear chap, you've had him for\n almost two weeks. Certainly in that\n time—\"\n\n\n The President snapped back,\n \"You probably won't believe this,\n but he's been asleep until yesterday.\n When he first arrived he told us he\n hadn't slept for a\ndecal\n, whatever\n that is; so we held off our discussion\n with him until morning. Well—he\n didn't awaken in the morning,\n nor the next. Six days later, fearing\n something was wrong we woke\n him.\"\n\n\n \"What happened?\" Sir Alfred\n asked.\n\n\n The President showed embarrassment.\n \"He used some rather ripe\n Irish profanity on us, rolled over,\n and went back to sleep.\"\n\n\n Viljalmar Andersen asked, \"Well,\n what happened yesterday?\"\n\n\n \"We actually haven't had time to\n question him. Among other things,\n there's been some controversy about\n whose jurisdiction he comes under.\n The State Department claims the\n Army shouldn't—\"\n\n\n The Secretary General sighed\n deeply. \"Just what\ndid\nhe do?\"\n\n\n \"The Secret Service reports he\n spent the day whistling Mother Machree\n and playing with his dog, cat\n and mouse.\"\n\n\n \"Dog, cat and mouse? I say!\"\n blurted Sir Alfred.\n\n\n The President was defensive. \"He\n had to have some occupation, and\n he seems to be particularly interested\n in our animal life. He wanted\n a horse but compromised for the\n others. I understand he insists all\n three of them come with him wherever\n he goes.\"\n\n\n \"I wish we knew what he was\n going to say,\" Andersen worried.\n\n\n \"Here he comes,\" said Sir Alfred.\n\n\n Surrounded by F.B.I. men,\n Dameri Tass was ushered to the\n speaker's stand. He had a kitten in\n his arms; a Scotty followed him.\n\n\n The alien frowned worriedly.\n \"Sure,\" he said, \"and what kin all\n this be? Is it some ordinance I've\n been after breakin'?\"\n\n\n McCord, Sir Alfred and Andersen\n hastened to reassure him and\n made him comfortable in a chair.\n\n\n Viljalmar Andersen faced the\n thousands in the audience and held\n up his hands, but it was ten minutes\n before he was able to quiet the\n cheering, stamping delegates from\n all Earth.\n\n\n Finally: \"Fellow Terrans, I shall\n not take your time for a lengthy\n introduction of the envoy from the\n stars. I will only say that, without\n doubt, this is the most important\n moment in the history of the human\n race. We will now hear from the\n first being to come to Earth from\n another world.\"\n\n\n He turned and gestured to Dameri\n Tass who hadn't been paying\n overmuch attention to the chairman\n in view of some dog and cat\n hostilities that had been developing\n about his feet.\n\n\n But now the alien's purplish face\n faded to a light blue. He stood and\n said hoarsely. \"Faith, an' what was\n that last you said?\"\n\n\n Viljalmar Andersen repeated,\n \"We will now hear from the first\n being ever to come to Earth from\n another world.\"\n\n\n The face of the alien went a\n lighter blue. \"Sure, an' ye wouldn't\n jist be frightenin' a body, would\n ye? You don't mean to tell me this\n planet isn't after bein' a member of\n the Galactic League?\"\n\n\n Andersen's face was blank. \"Galactic\n League?\"\n\n\n \"Cushlamachree,\" Dameri Tass\n moaned. \"I've gone and put me\n foot in it again. I'll be after getting\nkert\nfor this.\"\n\n\n Sir Alfred was on his feet. \"I\n don't understand! Do you mean you\n aren't an envoy from another\n planet?\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass held his head in his\n hands and groaned. \"An envoy, he's\n sayin', and meself only a second-rate\n collector of specimens for the Carthis\n zoo.\"\n\n\n He straightened and started off\n the speaker's stand. \"Sure, an' I\n must blast off immediately.\"\n\n\n Things were moving fast for\n President McCord but already an\n edge of relief was manifesting itself.\n Taking the initiative, he said, \"Of\n course, of course, if that is your\n desire.\" He signaled to the bodyguard\n who had accompanied the\n alien to the assemblage.\n\n\n A dull roar was beginning to\n emanate from the thousands gathered\n in the tremendous hall, murmuring,\n questioning, disbelieving.\nViljalmar Andersen\n felt that\n he must say something. He extended\n a detaining hand. \"Now you\n are here,\" he said urgently, \"even\n though by mistake, before you go\n can't you give us some brief word?\n Our world is in chaos. Many of us\n have lost faith. Perhaps ...\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass shook off the restraining\n hand. \"Do I look daft?\n Begorry, I should have been\n a-knowin' something was queer. All\n your weapons and your strange\n ideas. Faith, I wouldn't be surprised\n if ye hadn't yet established\n a planet-wide government. Sure,\n an' I'll go still further. Ye probably\n still have wars on this benighted\n world. No wonder it is ye\n haven't been invited to join the\n Galactic League an' take your place\n among the civilized planets.\"\n\n\n He hustled from the rostrum and\n made his way, still surrounded by\n guards, to the door by which he had\n entered. The dog and the cat trotted\n after, undismayed by the furor\n about them.\n\n\n They arrived about four hours\n later at the field on which he'd\n landed, and the alien from space\n hurried toward his craft, still muttering.\n He'd been accompanied by a\n general and by the President, but\n all the way he had refrained from\n speaking.\n\n\n He scurried from the car and\n toward the spacecraft.\n\n\n President McCord said, \"You've\n forgotten your pets. We would be\n glad if you would accept them as—\"\n\n\n The alien's face faded a light\n blue again. \"Faith, an' I'd almost\n forgotten,\" he said. \"If I'd taken\n a crature from this quarantined\n planet, my name'd be\nnork\n. Keep\n your dog and your kitty.\" He shook\n his head sadly and extracted a\n mouse from a pocket. \"An' this\n amazin' little crature as well.\"\n\n\n They followed him to the spacecraft.\n Just before entering, he spotted\n the bedraggled horse that had\n been present on his landing.\n\n\n A longing expression came over\n his highly colored face. \"Jist one\n thing,\" he said. \"Faith now, were\n they pullin' my leg when they said\n you were after ridin' on the back of\n those things?\"\n\n\n The President looked at the woebegone\n nag. \"It's a horse,\" he said,\n surprised. \"Man has been riding\n them for centuries.\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass shook his head.\n \"Sure, an' 'twould've been my\n makin' if I could've taken one back\n to Carthis.\" He entered his vessel.\n\n\n The others drew back, out of\n range of the expected blast, and\n watched, each with his own\n thoughts, as the first visitor from\n space hurriedly left Earth.\n... THE END\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nIf Worlds of Science Fiction\nJanuary 1954.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What did the author intend the lesson of the passage to be?", "question_unique_id": "30035_SLGX7NNR_1", "options": ["We should be trying to form a planetary government to become a civilized planet", "It is not possible for the planet to unite under a common cause", "We need not speak the same language to understand each other", "Solutions for human kind aren’t going to suddenly appear from outer space"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What happened to Dameri while he was in custody of the government?", "question_unique_id": "30035_SLGX7NNR_2", "options": ["He picked up an accent from the guards", "He slept almost the entire time", "He learned horses were creatures that could be ridden", "He was too shy to speak"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Dameri’s purpose in landing on earth?", "question_unique_id": "30035_SLGX7NNR_3", "options": ["He wanted to witness an uncivilized planet and share knowledge", "His spaceship needed to land for repairs", "He heard reports that Earth had interesting animal specimens for his collection", "He arrived on accident while exploring planets in the Galactic League"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did the people of Earth generally believe Dameri Tass would do on their planet?", "question_unique_id": "30035_SLGX7NNR_4", "options": ["Collect humans to be displayed in a zoo in Carthis", "Assess it for civility and suitability to join the Galactic League", "Solve their societal challenges with his knowledge", "Initiate colonization of Earth, for Carthis had dwindling resources"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Dameri Tass communicate in English?", "question_unique_id": "30035_SLGX7NNR_5", "options": ["He could communicate telepathically", "He never was able to communicate in English", "He used a handheld translation device", "He acquired the knowledge from a human"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have happened if Dameri had delivered his speech sooner?", "question_unique_id": "30035_SLGX7NNR_6", "options": ["Conflict between the government and UN", "There would have been many lives saved", "No change in the course of events", "Earth could have been part of the Galactic League"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would the citizens of Carthis learn about Earth after Dameri returned?", "question_unique_id": "30035_SLGX7NNR_7", "options": ["They would learn about the animals of Earth", "They would learn they needed to revise the log of Galactic League planets", "They would learn it is an uncivilized place", "They likely would never learn that it existed"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the relationship like between Dermott and Casey?", "question_unique_id": "30035_SLGX7NNR_8", "options": ["A superior and subordinate", "Two patrol officers brought very close together by their experience discovering an alien", "Dermott was like a father to Casey", "Colleagues from the same graduating class at the academy"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/0/0/3/30035//30035-h//30035-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "61285", "set_unique_id": "61285_XLEJCW65", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Desert and the Stars", "year": 1959, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "PS; Space colonies -- Fiction; Short stories; Retief (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Diplomats -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "THE DESERT AND THE STARS\nBY KEITH LAUMER\nThe Aga Kaga wanted peace—a\n\n piece of everything in sight!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, November 1962.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"I'm not at all sure,\" Under-Secretary Sternwheeler said, \"that I fully\n understand the necessity for your ... ah ... absenting yourself from\n your post of duty, Mr. Retief. Surely this matter could have been dealt\n with in the usual way—assuming any action is necessary.\"\n\n\n \"I had a sharp attack of writer's cramp, Mr. Secretary,\" Retief said.\n \"So I thought I'd better come along in person—just to be sure I was\n positive of making my point.\"\n\n\n \"Eh?\"\n\n\n \"Why, ah, there were a number of dispatches,\" Deputy Under-Secretary\n Magnan put in. \"Unfortunately, this being end-of-the-fiscal-year time,\n we found ourselves quite inundated with reports. Reports, reports,\n reports—\"\n\n\n \"Not criticizing the reporting system, are you, Mr. Magnan?\" the\n Under-Secretary barked.\n\n\n \"Gracious, no,\" Magnan said. \"I love reports.\"\n\n\n \"It seems nobody's told the Aga Kagans about fiscal years,\" Retief\n said. \"They're going right ahead with their program of land-grabbing on\n Flamme. So far, I've persuaded the Boyars that this is a matter for the\n Corps, and not to take matters into their own hands.\"\n\n\n The Under-Secretary nodded. \"Quite right. Carry on along the same\n lines. Now, if there's nothing further—\"\n\n\n \"Thank you, Mr. Secretary,\" Magnan said, rising. \"We certainly\n appreciate your guidance.\"\n\n\n \"There is a little something further,\" said Retief, sitting solidly in\n his chair. \"What's the Corps going to do about the Aga Kagans?\"\n\n\n The Under-Secretary turned a liverish eye on Retief. \"As Minister\n to Flamme, you should know that the function of a diplomatic\n representative is merely to ... what shall I say...?\"\n\n\n \"String them along?\" Magnan suggested.\n\n\n \"An unfortunate choice of phrase,\" the Under-Secretary said. \"However,\n it embodies certain realities of Galactic politics. The Corps must\n concern itself with matters of broad policy.\"\n\n\n \"Sixty years ago the Corps was encouraging the Boyars to settle\n Flamme,\" Retief said. \"They were assured of Corps support.\"\n\n\n \"I don't believe you'll find that in writing,\" said the Under-Secretary\n blandly. \"In any event, that was sixty years ago. At that time a\n foothold against Neo-Concordiatist elements was deemed desirable. Now\n the situation has changed.\"\n\n\n \"The Boyars have spent sixty years terraforming Flamme,\" Retief said.\n \"They've cleared jungle, descummed the seas, irrigated deserts, set out\n forests. They've just about reached the point where they can begin to\n enjoy it. The Aga Kagans have picked this as a good time to move in.\n They've landed thirty detachments of 'fishermen'—complete with armored\n trawlers mounting 40 mm infinite repeaters—and another two dozen\n parties of 'homesteaders'—all male and toting rocket launchers.\"\n\n\n \"Surely there's land enough on the world to afford space to both\n groups,\" the Under-Secretary said. \"A spirit of co-operation—\"\n\"The Boyars needed some co-operation sixty years ago,\" Retief said.\n \"They tried to get the Aga Kagans to join in and help them beat\n back some of the saurian wild life that liked to graze on people.\n The Corps didn't like the idea. They wanted to see an undisputed\n anti-Concordiatist enclave. The Aga Kagans didn't want to play, either.\n But now that the world is tamed, they're moving in.\"\n\n\n \"The exigencies of diplomacy require a flexible policy—\"\n\n\n \"I want a firm assurance of Corps support to take back to Flamme,\"\n Retief said. \"The Boyars are a little naive. They don't understand\n diplomatic triple-speak. They just want to hold onto the homes they've\n made out of a wasteland.\"\n\n\n \"I'm warning you, Retief!\" the Under-Secretary snapped, leaning\n forward, wattles quivering. \"Corps policy with regard to Flamme\n includes no inflammatory actions based on outmoded concepts. The Boyars\n will have to accommodate themselves to the situation!\"\n\n\n \"That's what I'm afraid of,\" Retief said. \"They're not going to sit\n still and watch it happen. If I don't take back concrete evidence of\n Corps backing, we're going to have a nice hot little shooting war on\n our hands.\"\n\n\n The Under-Secretary pushed out his lips and drummed his fingers on the\n desk.\n\n\n \"Confounded hot-heads,\" he muttered. \"Very well, Retief. I'll go along\n to the extent of a Note; but positively no further.\"\n\n\n \"A Note? I was thinking of something more like a squadron of Corps\n Peace Enforcers running through a few routine maneuvers off Flamme.\"\n\n\n \"Out of the question. A stiffly worded Protest Note is the best I can\n do. That's final.\"\n\n\n Back in the corridor, Magnan turned to Retief. \"When will you learn\n not to argue with Under-Secretaries? One would think you actively\n disliked the idea of ever receiving a promotion. I was astonished\n at the Under-Secretary's restraint. Frankly, I was stunned when he\n actually agreed to a Note. I, of course, will have to draft it.\" Magnan\n pulled at his lower lip thoughtfully. \"Now, I wonder, should I view\n with deep concern an act of open aggression, or merely point out an\n apparent violation of technicalities....\"\n\n\n \"Don't bother,\" Retief said. \"I have a draft all ready to go.\"\n\n\n \"But how—?\"\n\n\n \"I had a feeling I'd get paper instead of action,\" Retief said. \"I\n thought I'd save a little time all around.\"\n\n\n \"At times, your cynicism borders on impudence.\"\n\n\n \"At other times, it borders on disgust. Now, if you'll run the Note\n through for signature, I'll try to catch the six o'clock shuttle.\"\n\n\n \"Leaving so soon? There's an important reception tonight. Some of our\n biggest names will be there. An excellent opportunity for you to join\n in the diplomatic give-and-take.\"\n\n\n \"No, thanks. I want to get back to Flamme and join in something mild,\n like a dinosaur hunt.\"\n\n\n \"When you get there,\" said Magnan, \"I hope you'll make it quite clear\n that this matter is to be settled without violence.\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry. I'll keep the peace, if I have to start a war to do it.\"\nOn the broad verandah at Government House, Retief settled himself\n comfortably in a lounge chair. He accepted a tall glass from a\n white-jacketed waiter and regarded the flamboyant Flamme sunset, a\n gorgeous blaze of vermillion and purple that reflected from a still\n lake, tinged the broad lawn with color, silhouetted tall poplars among\n flower beds.\n\n\n \"You've done great things here in sixty years, Georges,\" said Retief.\n \"Not that natural geological processes wouldn't have produced the same\n results, given a couple of hundred million years.\"\n\n\n \"Don't belabor the point,\" the Boyar Chef d'Regime said. \"Since we seem\n to be on the verge of losing it.\"\n\n\n \"You're forgetting the Note.\"\n\n\n \"A Note,\" Georges said, waving his cigar. \"What the purple polluted\n hell is a Note supposed to do? I've got Aga Kagan claim-jumpers camped\n in the middle of what used to be a fine stand of barley, cooking\n sheep's brains over dung fires not ten miles from Government House—and\n upwind at that.\"\n\n\n \"Say, if that's the same barley you distill your whiskey from, I'd\n call that a first-class atrocity.\"\n\n\n \"Retief, on your say-so, I've kept my boys on a short leash. They've\n put up with plenty. Last week, while you were away, these barbarians\n sailed that flotilla of armor-plated junks right through the middle of\n one of our best oyster breeding beds. It was all I could do to keep a\n bunch of our men from going out in private helis and blasting 'em out\n of the water.\"\n\n\n \"That wouldn't have been good for the oysters, either.\"\n\n\n \"That's what I told 'em. I also said you'd be back here in a few days\n with something from Corps HQ. When I tell 'em all we've got is a piece\n of paper, that'll be the end. There's a strong vigilante organization\n here that's been outfitting for the last four weeks. If I hadn't held\n them back with assurances that the CDT would step in and take care of\n this invasion, they would have hit them before now.\"\n\"That would have been a mistake,\" said Retief. \"The Aga Kagans are\n tough customers. They're active on half a dozen worlds at the moment.\n They've been building up for this push for the last five years. A\n show of resistance by you Boyars without Corps backing would be an\n invitation to slaughter—with the excuse that you started it.\"\n\n\n \"So what are we going to do? Sit here and watch these goat-herders take\n over our farms and fisheries?\"\n\n\n \"Those goat-herders aren't all they seem. They've got a first-class\n modern navy.\"\n\n\n \"I've seen 'em. They camp in goat-skin tents, gallop around on\n animal-back, wear dresses down to their ankles—\"\n\n\n \"The 'goat-skin' tents are a high-polymer plastic, made in the same\n factory that turns out those long flowing bullet-proof robes you\n mention. The animals are just for show. Back home they use helis and\n ground cars of the most modern design.\"\n\n\n The Chef d'Regime chewed his cigar.\n\n\n \"Why the masquerade?\"\n\n\n \"Something to do with internal policies, I suppose.\"\n\n\n \"So we sit tight and watch 'em take our world away from us. That's what\n I get for playing along with you, Retief. We should have clobbered\n these monkeys as soon as they set foot on our world.\"\n\n\n \"Slow down, I haven't finished yet. There's still the Note.\"\n\n\n \"I've got plenty of paper already. Rolls and rolls of it.\"\n\n\n \"Give diplomatic processes a chance,\" said Retief. \"The Note hasn't\n even been delivered yet. Who knows? We may get surprising results.\"\n\n\n \"If you expect me to supply a runner for the purpose, you're out of\n luck. From what I hear, he's likely to come back with his ears stuffed\n in his hip pocket.\"\n\n\n \"I'll deliver the Note personally,\" Retief said. \"I could use a couple\n of escorts—preferably strong-arm lads.\"\n\n\n The Chef d'Regime frowned, blew out a cloud of smoke. \"I wasn't kidding\n about these Aga Kagans,\" he said. \"I hear they have some nasty habits.\n I don't want to see you operated on with the same knives they use to\n skin out the goats.\"\n\n\n \"I'd be against that myself. Still, the mail must go through.\"\n\n\n \"Strong-arm lads, eh? What have you got in mind, Retief?\"\n\n\n \"A little muscle in the background is an old diplomatic custom,\" Retief\n said.\n\n\n The Chef d'Regime stubbed out his cigar thoughtfully. \"I used to be a\n pretty fair elbow-wrestler myself,\" he said. \"Suppose I go along...?\"\n\n\n \"That,\" said Retief, \"should lend just the right note of solidarity to\n our little delegation.\" He hitched his chair closer. \"Now, depending on\n what we run into, here's how we'll play it....\"\nII\n\n\n Eight miles into the rolling granite hills west of the capital, a\n black-painted official air-car flying the twin flags of Chief of State\n and Terrestrial Minister skimmed along a foot above a pot-holed road.\n Slumped in the padded seat, the Boyar Chef d'Regime waved his cigar\n glumly at the surrounding hills.\n\n\n \"Fifty years ago this was bare rock,\" he said. \"We've bred special\n strains of bacteria here to break down the formations into soil, and we\n followed up with a program of broad-spectrum fertilization. We planned\n to put the whole area into crops by next year. Now it looks like the\n goats will get it.\"\n\n\n \"Will that scrubland support a crop?\" Retief said, eyeing the\n lichen-covered knolls.\n\n\n \"Sure. We start with legumes and follow up with cereals. Wait until you\n see this next section. It's an old flood plain, came into production\n thirty years ago. One of our finest—\"\n\n\n The air-car topped a rise. The Chef dropped his cigar and half rose,\n with a hoarse yell. A herd of scraggly goats tossed their heads among a\n stand of ripe grain. The car pulled to a stop. Retief held the Boyar's\n arm.\n\n\n \"Keep calm, Georges,\" he said. \"Remember, we're on a diplomatic\n mission. It wouldn't do to come to the conference table smelling of\n goats.\"\n\n\n \"Let me at 'em!\" Georges roared. \"I'll throttle 'em with my bare hands!\"\n\n\n A bearded goat eyed the Boyar Chef sardonically, jaw working. \"Look at\n that long-nosed son!\" The goat gave a derisive bleat and took another\n mouthful of ripe grain.\n\n\n \"Did you see that?\" Georges yelled. \"They've trained the son of a—\"\n\n\n \"Chin up, Georges,\" Retief said. \"We'll take up the goat problem along\n with the rest.\"\n\n\n \"I'll murder 'em!\"\n\n\n \"Hold it, Georges. Look over there.\"\n\n\n A hundred yards away, a trio of brown-cloaked horsemen topped a rise,\n paused dramatically against the cloudless pale sky, then galloped\n down the slope toward the car, rifles bobbing at their backs, cloaks\n billowing out behind. Side by side they rode, through the brown-golden\n grain, cutting three narrow swaths that ran in a straight sweep from\n the ridge to the air-car where Retief and the Chef d'Regime hovered,\n waiting.\n\n\n Georges scrambled for the side of the car. \"Just wait 'til I get my\n hands on him!\"\n\n\n Retief pulled him back. \"Sit tight and look pleased, Georges. Never\n give the opposition a hint of your true feelings. Pretend you're a goat\n lover—and hand me one of your cigars.\"\n\n\n The three horsemen pulled up in a churn of chaff and a clatter of\n pebbles. Georges coughed, batting a hand at the settling dust. Retief\n peeled the cigar unhurriedly, sniffed, at it and thumbed it alight. He\n drew at it, puffed out a cloud of smoke and glanced casually at the\n trio of Aga Kagan cavaliers.\n\n\n \"Peace be with you,\" he intoned in accent-free Kagan. \"May your shadows\n never grow less.\"\nThe leader of the three, a hawk-faced man with a heavy beard,\n unlimbered his rifle. He fingered it, frowning ferociously.\n\n\n \"Have no fear,\" Retief said, smiling graciously. \"He who comes as a\n guest enjoys perfect safety.\"\n\n\n A smooth-faced member of the threesome barked an oath and leveled his\n rifle at Retief.\n\n\n \"Youth is the steed of folly,\" Retief said. \"Take care that the\n beardless one does not disgrace his house.\"\n\n\n The leader whirled on the youth and snarled an order. He lowered the\n rifle, muttering. Blackbeard turned back to Retief.\n\n\n \"Begone, interlopers,\" he said. \"You disturb the goats.\"\n\n\n \"Provision is not taken to the houses of the generous,\" Retief said.\n \"May the creatures dine well ere they move on.\"\n\n\n \"Hah! The goats of the Aga Kaga graze on the lands of the Aga Kaga.\"\n The leader edged his horse close, eyed Retief fiercely. \"We welcome no\n intruders on our lands.\"\n\n\n \"To praise a man for what he does not possess is to make him appear\n foolish,\" Retief said. \"These are the lands of the Boyars. But enough\n of these pleasantries. We seek audience with your ruler.\"\n\n\n \"You may address me as 'Exalted One',\" the leader said. \"Now dismount\n from that steed of Shaitan.\"\n\n\n \"It is written, if you need anything from a dog, call him 'sir',\"\n Retief said. \"I must decline to impute canine ancestry to a guest. Now\n you may conduct us to your headquarters.\"\n\n\n \"Enough of your insolence!\" The bearded man cocked his rifle. \"I could\n blow your heads off!\"\n\n\n \"The hen has feathers, but it does not fly,\" Retief said. \"We have\n asked for escort. A slave must be beaten with a stick; for a free man,\n a hint is enough.\"\n\n\n \"You mock me, pale one. I warn you—\"\n\n\n \"Only love makes me weep,\" Retief said. \"I laugh at hatred.\"\n\n\n \"Get out of the car!\"\n\n\n Retief puffed at his cigar, eyeing the Aga Kagan cheerfully. The youth\n in the rear moved forward, teeth bared.\n\n\n \"Never give in to the fool, lest he say, 'He fears me,'\" Retief said.\n\n\n \"I cannot restrain my men in the face of your insults,\" the bearded Aga\n Kagan roared. \"These hens of mine have feathers—and talons as well!\"\n\n\n \"When God would destroy an ant, he gives him wings,\" Retief said.\n \"Distress in misfortune is another misfortune.\"\n\n\n The bearded man's face grew purple.\n\n\n Retief dribbled the ash from his cigar over the side of the car.\n\n\n \"Now I think we'd better be getting on,\" he said briskly. \"I've enjoyed\n our chat, but we do have business to attend to.\"\n\n\n The bearded leader laughed shortly. \"Does the condemned man beg for the\n axe?\" he enquired rhetorically. \"You shall visit the Aga Kaga, then.\n Move on! And make no attempt to escape, else my gun will speak you a\n brief farewell.\"\n\n\n The horsemen glowered, then, at a word from the leader, took positions\n around the car. Georges started the vehicle forward, following the\n leading rider. Retief leaned back and let out a long sigh.\n\n\n \"That was close,\" he said. \"I was about out of proverbs.\"\n\n\n \"You sound as though you'd brought off a coup,\" Georges said. \"From the\n expression on the whiskery one's face, we're in for trouble. What was\n he saying?\"\n\n\n \"Just a routine exchange of bluffs,\" Retief said. \"Now when we get\n there, remember to make your flattery sound like insults and your\n insults sound like flattery, and you'll be all right.\"\n\n\n \"These birds are armed. And they don't like strangers,\" Georges said.\n \"Maybe I should have boned up on their habits before I joined this\n expedition.\"\n\n\n \"Just stick to the plan,\" Retief said. \"And remember: a handful of luck\n is better than a camel-load of learning.\"\nThe air car followed the escort down a long slope to a dry river bed\n and across it, through a barren stretch of shifting sand to a green\n oasis set with canopies.\n\n\n The armed escort motioned the car to a halt before an immense tent of\n glistening black. Before the tent armed men lounged under a pennant\n bearing a lion\ncouchant\nin crimson on a field verte.\n\n\n \"Get out,\" Blackbeard ordered. The guards eyed the visitors, their\n drawn sabers catching sunlight. Retief and Georges stepped from the\n car onto rich rugs spread on the grass. They followed the ferocious\n gesture of the bearded man through the opening into a perfumed interior\n of luminous shadows. A heavy odor of incense hung in the air, and the\n strumming of stringed instruments laid a muted pattern of sound behind\n the decorations of gold and blue, silver and green. At the far end of\n the room, among a bevy of female slaves, a large and resplendently clad\n man with blue-black hair and a clean-shaven chin popped a grape into\n his mouth. He wiped his fingers negligently on a wisp of silk offered\n by a handmaiden, belched loudly and looked the callers over.\n\n\n Blackbeard cleared his throat. \"Down on your faces in the presence of\n the Exalted One, the Aga Kaga, ruler of East and West.\"\n\n\n \"Sorry,\" Retief said firmly. \"My hay-fever, you know.\"\n\n\n The reclining giant waved a hand languidly.\n\n\n \"Never mind the formalities,\" he said. \"Approach.\"\n\n\n Retief and Georges crossed the thick rugs. A cold draft blew toward\n them. The reclining man sneezed violently, wiped his nose on another\n silken scarf and held up a hand.\n\n\n \"Night and the horses and the desert know me,\" he said in resonant\n tones. \"Also the sword and the guest and paper and pen—\" He\n paused, wrinkled his nose and sneezed again. \"Turn off that damned\n air-conditioner,\" he snapped.\n\n\n He settled himself and motioned the bearded man to him. The two\n exchanged muted remarks. Then the bearded man stepped back, ducked his\n head and withdrew to the rear.\n\n\n \"Excellency,\" Retief said, \"I have the honor to present M. Georges\n Duror, Chef d'Regime of the Planetary government.\"\n\n\n \"Planetary government?\" The Aga Kaga spat grape seeds on the rug. \"My\n men have observed a few squatters along the shore. If they're in\n distress, I'll see about a distribution of goat-meat.\"\n\n\n \"It is the punishment of the envious to grieve at anothers' plenty,\"\n Retief said. \"No goat-meat will be required.\"\n\n\n \"Ralph told me you talk like a page out of Mustapha ben Abdallah Katib\n Jelebi,\" the Aga Kaga said. \"I know a few old sayings myself. For\n example, 'A Bedouin is only cheated once.'\"\n\n\n \"We have no such intentions, Excellency,\" Retief said. \"Is it not\n written, 'Have no faith in the Prince whose minister cheats you'?\"\n\n\n \"I've had some unhappy experiences with strangers,\" the Aga Kaga said.\n \"It is written in the sands that all strangers are kin. Still, he who\n visits rarely is a welcome guest. Be seated.\"\nIII\n\n\n Handmaidens brought cushions, giggled and fled. Retief and Georges\n settled themselves comfortably. The Aga Kaga eyed them in silence.\n\"We have come to bear tidings from the Corps Diplomatique\n Terrestrienne,\" Retief said solemnly. A perfumed slave girl offered\n grapes.\n\n\n \"Modest ignorance is better than boastful knowledge,\" the Aga Kaga\n said. \"What brings the CDT into the picture?\"\n\n\n \"The essay of the drunkard will be read in the tavern,\" Retief said.\n \"Whereas the words of kings....\"\n\n\n \"Very well, I concede the point.\" The Aga Kaga waved a hand at the\n serving maids. \"Depart, my dears. Attend me later. You too, Ralph.\n These are mere diplomats. They are men of words, not deeds.\"\n\n\n The bearded man glared and departed. The girls hurried after him.\n\n\n \"Now,\" the Aga Kaga said. \"Let's drop the wisdom of the ages and\n get down to the issues. Not that I don't admire your repertoire of\n platitudes. How do you remember them all?\"\n\n\n \"Diplomats and other liars require good memories,\" said Retief. \"But\n as you point out, small wisdom to small minds. I'm here to effect a\n settlement of certain differences between yourself and the planetary\n authorities. I have here a Note, which I'm conveying on behalf of the\n Sector Under-Secretary. With your permission, I'll read it.\"\n\n\n \"Go ahead.\" The Aga Kaga kicked a couple of cushions onto the floor,\n eased a bottle from under the couch and reached for glasses.\n\n\n \"The Under-Secretary for Sector Affairs presents his compliments to his\n Excellency, the Aga Kaga of the Aga Kaga, Primary Potentate, Hereditary\n Sheik, Emir of the—\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes. Skip the titles.\"\n\n\n Retief flipped over two pages.\n\n\n \"... and with reference to the recent relocation of persons under the\n jurisdiction of his Excellency, has the honor to point out that the\n territories now under settlement comprise a portion of that area,\n hereinafter designated as Sub-sector Alpha, which, under terms of\n the Agreement entered into by his Excellency's predecessor, and as\n referenced in Sector Ministry's Notes numbers G-175846573957-b and\n X-7584736 c-1, with particular pertinence to that body designated in\n the Revised Galactic Catalogue, Tenth Edition, as amended, Volume\n Nine, reel 43, as 54 Cygni Alpha, otherwise referred to hereinafter as\n Flamme—\"\n\n\n \"Come to the point,\" the Aga Kaga cut in. \"You're here to lodge a\n complaint that I'm invading territories to which someone else lays\n claim, is that it?\" He smiled broadly, offered dope-sticks and lit one.\n \"Well, I've been expecting a call. After all, it's what you gentlemen\n are paid for. Cheers.\"\n\n\n \"Your Excellency has a lucid way of putting things,\" Retief said.\n\n\n \"Call me Stanley,\" the Aga Kaga said. \"The other routine is just to\n please some of the old fools—I mean the more conservative members\n of my government. They're still gnawing their beards and kicking\n themselves because their ancestors dropped science in favor of alchemy\n and got themselves stranded in a cultural dead end. This charade is\n supposed to prove they were right all along. However, I've no time\n to waste in neurotic compensations. I have places to go and deeds to\n accomplish.\"\n\n\n \"At first glance,\" Retief said, \"it looks as though the places are\n already occupied, and the deeds are illegal.\"\nThe Aga Kaga guffawed. \"For a diplomat, you speak plainly, Retief. Have\n another drink.\" He poured, eyeing Georges. \"What of M. Duror? How does\n he feel about it?\"\n\n\n Georges took a thoughtful swallow of whiskey. \"Not bad,\" he said. \"But\n not quite good enough to cover the odor of goats.\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga snorted. \"I thought the goats were overdoing it a bit\n myself,\" he said. \"Still, the graybeards insisted. And I need their\n support.\"\n\n\n \"Also,\" Georges said distinctly, \"I think you're soft. You lie around\n letting women wait on you, while your betters are out doing an honest\n day's work.\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga looked startled. \"Soft? I can tie a knot in an iron bar\n as big as your thumb.\" He popped a grape into his mouth. \"As for the\n rest, your pious views about the virtues of hard labor are as childish\n as my advisors' faith in the advantages of primitive plumbing. As for\n myself, I am a realist. If two monkeys want the same banana, in the end\n one will have it, and the other will cry morality. The days of my years\n are numbered, praise be to God. While they last, I hope to eat well,\n hunt well, fight well and take my share of pleasure. I leave to others\n the arid satisfactions of self-denial and other perversions.\"\n\n\n \"You admit you're here to grab our land, then,\" Georges said. \"That's\n the damnedest piece of bare-faced aggression—\"\n\n\n \"Ah, ah!\" The Aga Kaga held up a hand. \"Watch your vocabulary, my\n dear sir. I'm sure that 'justifiable yearnings for territorial\n self-realization' would be more appropriate to the situation. Or\n possibly 'legitimate aspirations, for self-determination of formerly\n exploited peoples' might fit the case. Aggression is, by definition,\n an activity carried on only by those who have inherited the mantle of\n Colonial Imperialism.\"\n\n\n \"Imperialism! Why, you Aga Kagans have been the most notorious\n planet-grabbers in Sector history, you—you—\"\n\n\n \"Call me Stanley.\" The Aga Kaga munched a grape. \"I merely face the\n realities of popular folk-lore. Let's be pragmatic; it's a matter of\n historical association. Some people can grab land and pass it off\n lightly as a moral duty; others are dubbed imperialist merely for\n holding onto their own. Unfair, you say. But that's life, my friends.\n And I shall continue to take every advantage of it.\"\n\n\n \"We'll fight you!\" Georges bellowed. He took another gulp of whiskey\n and slammed the glass down. \"You won't take this world without a\n struggle!\"\n\n\n \"Another?\" the Aga Kaga said, offering the bottle. Georges glowered as\n his glass was filled. The Aga Kaga held the glass up to the light.\n\n\n \"Excellent color, don't you agree?\" He turned his eyes on Georges.\n\n\n \"It's pointless to resist,\" he said. \"We have you outgunned and\n outmanned. Your small nation has no chance against us. But we're\n prepared to be generous. You may continue to occupy such areas as we do\n not immediately require until such time as you're able to make other\n arrangements.\"\n\n\n \"And by the time we've got a crop growing out of what was bare rock,\n you'll be ready to move in,\" the Boyar Chef d'Regime snapped. \"But\n you'll find that we aren't alone!\"\n\"Quite alone,\" the Aga said. He nodded sagely. \"Yes, one need but read\n the lesson of history. The Corps Diplomatique will make expostulatory\n noises, but it will accept the\nfait accompli\n. You, my dear sir, are\n but a very small nibble. We won't make the mistake of excessive greed.\n We shall inch our way to empire—and those who stand in our way shall\n be dubbed warmongers.\"\n\n\n \"I see you're quite a student of history, Stanley,\" Retief said. \"I\n wonder if you recall the eventual fate of most of the would-be empire\n nibblers of the past?\"\n\n\n \"Ah, but they grew incautious. They went too far, too fast.\"\n\n\n \"The confounded impudence,\" Georges rasped. \"Tells us to our face what\n he has in mind!\"\n\n\n \"An ancient and honorable custom, from the time of\nMein Kampf\nand\n the\nCommunist Manifesto\nthrough the\nPorcelain Wall\nof Leung. Such\n declarations have a legendary quality. It's traditional that they're\n never taken at face value.\"\n\n\n \"But always,\" Retief said, \"there was a critical point at which the man\n on horseback could have been pulled from the saddle.\"\n\n\n \"\nCould\nhave been,\" the Aga Kaga chuckled. He finished the grapes and\n began peeling an orange. \"But they never were. Hitler could have been\n stopped by the Czech Air Force in 1938; Stalin was at the mercy of the\n primitive atomics of the west in 1946; Leung was grossly over-extended\n at Rangoon. But the onus of that historic role could not be overcome.\n It has been the fate of your spiritual forebears to carve civilization\n from the wilderness and then, amid tearing of garments and the heaping\n of ashes of self-accusation on your own confused heads, to withdraw,\n leaving the spoils for local political opportunists and mob leaders,\n clothed in the mystical virtue of native birth. Have a banana.\"\n\n\n \"You're stretching your analogy a little too far,\" Retief said. \"You're\n banking on the inaction of the Corps. You could be wrong.\"\n\n\n \"I shall know when to stop,\" the Aga Kaga said.\n\n\n \"Tell me, Stanley,\" Retief said, rising. \"Are we quite private here?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, perfectly so,\" the Aga Kaga said. \"None would dare to intrude in\n my council.\" He cocked an eyebrow at Retief. \"You have a proposal to\n make in confidence? But what of our dear friend Georges? One would not\n like to see him disillusioned.\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry about Georges. He's a realist, like you. He's prepared to\n deal in facts. Hard facts, in this case.\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga nodded thoughtfully. \"What are you getting at?\"\n\n\n \"You're basing your plan of action on the certainty that the Corps will\n sit by, wringing its hands, while you embark on a career of planetary\n piracy.\"\n\n\n \"Isn't it the custom?\" the Aga Kaga smiled complacently.\n\n\n \"I have news for you, Stanley. In this instance, neck-wringing seems\n more in order than hand-wringing.\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga frowned. \"Your manner—\"\n\n\n \"Never mind our manners!\" Georges blurted, standing. \"We don't need any\n lessons from goat-herding land-thieves!\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga's face darkened. \"You dare to speak thus to me, pig of a\n muck-grubber!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the nature of the relationship between Georges and Retief?", "question_unique_id": "61285_XLEJCW65_1", "options": ["Old friends from their time in the Corps", "Argumentative diplomatic colleagues", "Amicable bridge between Boyar and Corps", "Brotherly from their Boyar childhood together"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is true of the relationship between the Boyars and the Aga Kagan?", "question_unique_id": "61285_XLEJCW65_2", "options": ["They have been at war for thousands of years", "They are newly engaged in violent conflict", "They are ruled by similar systems of governance", "They have never before been at war"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the closest estimate to how long have the Boyar been on Flamme?", "question_unique_id": "61285_XLEJCW65_3", "options": ["Two centuries", "Half a century", "A century", "Quarter of a century"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the highest authority the reader learns of any woman holding on Flamme?", "question_unique_id": "61285_XLEJCW65_4", "options": ["Servant", "Under-Secretary", "Secretary of Diplomatic Affairs", "Farmer"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Stanley’s opinion of the Corps?", "question_unique_id": "61285_XLEJCW65_5", "options": ["Their diplomacy is a threat", "They stall instead of act", "They could be useful allies", "They may be exploited for resources"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Georges’ manner with the Aga Kagan?", "question_unique_id": "61285_XLEJCW65_6", "options": ["Eager curiosity", "Friendly diplomacy", "Indifference", "Condescension"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Stanley’s history within the Aga Kagan?", "question_unique_id": "61285_XLEJCW65_7", "options": ["He executed the former ruler", "He is an outsider", "He is an Aga Kagan commoner", "He was born an exalted ruler"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/2/8/61285//61285-h//61285-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions 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{"article_id": "62261", "set_unique_id": "62261_SJZYUNBJ", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Planet of No-Return", "year": 1950, "author": "Peacock, Wilbur S.", "topic": "Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Venus (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Male friendship -- Fiction; Short stories; Adventure stories", "article": "Planet of No-Return\nBy WILBUR S. PEACOCK\nThe orders were explicit: \"Destroy the\n\n 'THING' of Venus.\" But Patrolmen Kerry\n\n Blane and Splinter Wood, their space-ship\n\n wrecked, could not follow orders—their\n\n weapons were useless on the Water-world.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1942.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nOld Kerry Blane exploded.\n\n\n \"Damn it!\" he roared. \"I don't like you; and I don't like this ship;\n and I don't like the assignment; and I don't like those infernal pills\n you keep eating; and I—\"\n\n\n \"Splinter\" Wood grinned.\n\n\n \"Seems to me, Kerry,\" he remarked humorously, \"that you don't like much\n of anything!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane growled unintelligibly, batted the injector lever with a\n calloused hand. His grizzled hair was a stiff wiry mop on his small\n head, and his oversize jaw was thrust belligerently forward. But deep\n within his eyes, where he hoped it was hidden, was a friendly twinkle\n that gave the lie to his speech.\n\n\n \"You're a squirt!\" he snapped disagreeably. \"You're not dry behind\n the ears, yet. You're like the rest of these kids who call themselves\n pilots—only more so! And why the hell the chief had to sic you on me,\n on an exploration trip this important—well, I'll never understand.\"\n\n\n Splinter rolled his six foot three of lanky body into a more\n comfortable position on the air-bunk. He yawned tremendously, fumbled a\n small box from his shirt pocket, and removed a marble-like capsule.\n\n\n \"Better take one of these,\" he warned. \"You're liable to get the space\n bends at any moment.\"\n\n\n Old Kerry Blane snorted, batted the box aside impatiently, scowled\n moodily at the capsules that bounced for a moment against the pilot\n room's walls before hanging motionless in the air.\n\n\n \"Mister Wood,\" he said icily, \"I was flying a space ship while they\n were changing your pants twenty times a day. When I want advice on how\n to fly a ship, how to cure space bends, how to handle a Zelta ray, or\n how to spit—I'll ask you! Until then, you and your bloody marbles can\n go plumb straight to the devil!\"\n\n\n \"Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!\" Splinter reached out lazily, plucked the capsules from\n the air, one by one.\n\n\n Kerry Blane lit one of the five allotted cigarettes of the day.\n\n\n \"Don't 'tsk' me, you young squirt,\" he grunted around a mouthful of\n fragrant smoke. \"I know all the arguments you can put up; ain't that\n all I been hearing for a week? You take your vitamins A, B, C, D, all\n you want, but you leave me alone—or I'll stuff your head down your\n throat, P.D.Q.!\"\n\n\n \"All right, all right!\" Splinter tucked the capsule box back into his\n pocket, grinned mockingly. \"But don't say I didn't warn you. With this\n shielded ship, and with no sunlight reaching Venus' surface, you're\n gonna be begging for some of my vitamin, super-concentrated pills\n before we get back to Earth.\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane made a rich, ripe noise with his mouth.\n\n\n \"Pfuii!\" he said very distinctly.\n\n\n \"Gracious!\" Splinter said in mock horror.\nThey made a strange contrast as they lay in their air bunks. Splinter\n was fully a head taller than the dour Irishman, and his lanky build\n gave a false impression of awkwardness. While the vitriolic Kerry Blane\n was short and compact, strength and quickness evident in every movement.\n\n\n Kerry Blane had flown every type of ship that rode in space. In the\n passing years, he had flight-tested almost every new experimental ship,\n had flown them with increasing skill, had earned a reputation as a\n trouble shooter on any kind of craft.\n\n\n But even Kerry Blane had to retire eventually.\n\n\n A great retirement banquet had been given in his honor by the\n Interplanetary Squadron. There had been the usual speeches and\n presentations; and Kerry Blane had heard them all, had thanked the\n donors of the gifts. But it was not until the next morning, when he was\n dressed in civilian clothes for the first time in forty years, that he\n realized the enormity of the thing that had happened to his life.\n\n\n Something died within Kerry Blane's heart that morning, shriveled and\n passed away, leaving him suddenly shrunken and old. He had become like\n a rusty old freighter couched between the gleaming bodies of great\n space warriors.\n\n\n Finally, as a last resort so that he would not be thrown entirely\n aside, he had taken a desk job in the squadron offices. For six years\n he had dry-rotted there, waiting hopefully for the moment when his\n active services would be needed again.\n\n\n It was there that he had met and liked the ungainly Splinter Wood.\n There was something in the boy that had found a kindred spirit in Kerry\n Blane's heart, and he had taken the youngster in hand to give him the\n benefits of experience that had become legendary.\n\n\n Splinter Wood was a probationary pilot, had been admitted to the\n Interplanetary Squadron because of his inherent skill, even though his\n formal education had been fairly well neglected.\nNow, the two of them rode the pounding jets of a DX cruiser, bound\n for Venus to make a personal survey of its floating islands for the\n Interplanetary Squadron's Medical Division.\n\n\n \"Ten to one we don't get back!\" Splinter said pessimistically.\n\n\n Kerry Blane scrubbed out his cigarette, scowled bleakly at the\n instrument panel. He sensed the faint thread of fear in the youngster's\n tone, and a nostalgic twinge touched his heart, for he was remembering\n the days of his youth when he had a full life to look forward to.\n\n\n \"If you're afraid, you can get out and walk back,\" he snapped\n disagreeably.\n\n\n A grin lifted the corners of Splinter's long mouth, spread into his\n eyes. His hand unconsciously came up, touched the tiny squadron pin on\n his lapel.\n\n\n \"Sorry to disappoint you, glory grabber,\" he said mockingly, \"but I've\n got definite orders to take care of you.\"\n\n\n \"\nMe!\nYou've got orders to take care of\nme\n?\" Kerry Blane choked\n incoherently for a moment, red tiding cholerically upward from his\n loosened collar.\n\n\n \"Of course!\" Splinter grinned.\n\n\n Kerry Blane exploded, words spewing volcanically forth. Splinter\n relaxed, his booted foot beating out a dull rhythm to the colorful\n language learned through almost fifty years of spacing. And at last,\n when Kerry Blane had quieted until he but smoldered, he leaned over and\n touched the old spacer on the sleeve.\n\n\n \"Seventy-eight!\" he remarked pleasantly.\n\n\n \"Seventy-eight what?\" Kerry Blane asked sullenly, the old twinkle\n beginning to light again deep in his eyes.\n\n\n \"Seventy-eight new words—and you swore them beautifully!\" Splinter\n beamed. \"Some day you can teach them to me.\"\n\n\n They laughed then, Old Kerry Blane and young Splinter Wood, and\n the warmth of their friendship was a tangible thing in the small\n control-room of the cruiser.\n\n\n And in the midst of their laughter, Old Kerry Blane choked in agony,\n surged desperately against his bunk straps.\n\n\n He screamed unknowingly, feeling only the horrible excruciating agony\n of his body, tasting the blood that gushed from his mouth and nostrils.\n His muscles were knotted cords that he could not loosen, and his blood\n was a surging stream that pounded at his throbbing temples. The air he\n breathed seemed to be molten flame.\n\n\n His body arced again and again against the restraining straps, and his\n mouth was open in a soundless scream. He sensed dimly that his partner\n had wrenched open a wall door, removed metal medicine kits, and was\n fumbling through their contents. He felt the bite of the hypodermic,\n felt a deadly numbness replace the raging torment that had been his\n for seconds. He swallowed three capsules automatically, passed into a\n coma-like sleep, woke hours later to stare clear-eyed into Splinter's\n concerned face.\n\n\n \"Close, wasn't it?\" he said weakly, conversationally.\n\n\n \"Close enough!\" Splinter agreed relievedly. \"If you had followed my\n advice and taken those vitamin capsules, you'd never have had the\n bends.\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane grinned, winced when he felt the dull ache in his body.\n\n\n \"I've had the bends before, and lived through them!\" he said, still\n weakly defiant.\n\n\n \"That's the past,\" Splinter said quietly. \"This is the present, and you\n take your pills every day, just as I do—from now on.\"\n\n\n \"All right—and thanks!\"\n\n\n \"Forget it!\" Splinter flushed in quick embarrassment.\n\n\n A buzzer sounded from the instrument panel, and a tiny light glowed\n redly.\n\n\n \"Six hours more,\" Splinter said, turned to the instrument panel.\n\n\n His long hands played over the instrument panel, checking, controlling\n the rocket fire, adjusting delicate instruments to hairline marks.\n Kerry Blane nodded in silent approval.\n\n\n They could feel the first tug of gravity on their bodies, and through\n the vision port could see the greenish ball that was cloud-covered\n Venus. Excitement lifted their spirits, brought light to their eyes as\n they peered eagerly ahead.\n\n\n \"What's it really like?\" Splinter asked impatiently.\n\n\n Kerry Blane yawned, settled back luxuriously. \"I'll tell you later,\" he\n said, \"I'm going to take a nap and try to ease this bellyache of mine.\n Wake me up so that I can take over, when we land; Venus is a tricky\n place to set a ship on.\"\n\n\n He yawned again, drifted instantly into sleep, relaxing with the\n ability of a spaceman who sleeps when and if he can. Splinter smiled\n down at his sleeping partner, then turned back to the quartzite port.\n He shook his head a bit, remembering the stories he had heard about the\n water planet, wondering—wondering—\nII\n\n\n Venus was a fluffy cotton ball hanging motionless in bottomless\n space. Far to the left, Mercury gleamed like a polished diamond in\n the sunlight. Kerry Blane cut the driving rockets, let the cruiser\n sink into a fast gravity-dive, guiding it only now and then by a brief\n flicker of a side jet.\n\n\n Splinter Wood watched breathlessly from the vision port, his long face\n eager and reckless, his eyes seeking to pierce the clouds that roiled\n and twisted uneasily over the surface of the planet.\n\n\n Kerry Blane glanced tolerantly at his young companion, felt a nostalgic\n tug at his heart when he remembered the first time he had approached\n the water-planet years before. Then, he had been a young and reckless\n firebrand, his fame already spreading, an unquenchable fire of\n adventure flaming in his heart.\n\n\n Now, his aged but steady fingers rested lightly on the controls,\n brought the patrol cruiser closer to the cloud-banks on the line of\n demarcation between the sunward and sunless sides of the planet. He\n hummed tunelessly, strangely happy, as he peered ahead.\n\n\n \"Val Kenton died there,\" Splinter whispered softly, \"Died to save the\n lives of three other people!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane nodded. \"Yes,\" he agreed, and his voice changed subtly.\n \"Val was a blackguard, a criminal; but he died in the best traditions\n of the service.\" He sighed. \"He never had a chance.\"\n\n\n \"Murdered!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane smiled grimly. \"I guess I used too broad an interpretation\n of the word,\" he said gently. \"Anyway, one of our main tasks is to\n destroy the thing that killed him.\"\n\n\n His lean fingers tightened unconsciously.\n\n\n \"I'd like nothing better than to turn a Zelta-blaster on that chunk of\n living protoplasm and cremate it.\"\n\n\n Splinters shivered slightly. \"Do you think we'll find it?\" he asked.\n\n\n Kerry Blane nodded. \"I think it will find us; after all, it's just an\n animated appetite looking for food.\"\n\n\n He turned back to the controls, flipped a switch, and the cutting of\n the nose rocket dropped the ship in an angling glide toward the clouds\n a few miles below. Gravity was full strength now, and although not as\n great as Earth's, was still strong enough to bring a sense of giddiness\n to the men.\n\n\n \"Here we go!\" Splinter said tonelessly.\n\n\n The great cottony batts of roiling clouds rushed up to meet the ship,\n bringing the first sense of violent movement in more than a week of\n flying. There was something awesome and breath-taking in the speed with\n which the ship dropped toward the planet.\n\n\n Tendrils of vapor touched the ports, were whipped aside, then were\n replaced by heavier fingers of cloud. Kerry Blane pressed a firing\n stud, and nose rockets thrummed in a rising crescendo as the free fall\n of the cruiser was checked. Heat rose in the cabin from the friction of\n the outer air, then dissipated, as the force-screen voltometer leaped\n higher.\n\n\n Then, as though it had never been, the sun disappeared, and there was\n only a gray blankness pressing about the ship. Gone was all sense of\n movement, and the ship seemed to hover in a gray nothingness.\n\n\n Kerry Blane crouched over the control panel, his hands moving deftly,\n his eyes flicking from one instrument to another. Tiny lines of\n concentration etched themselves about his mouth, and perspiration\n beaded his forehead. He rode that cruiser through the miles of clouds\n through sheer instinctive ability, seeming to fly it as though he were\n an integral part of the ship.\n\n\n Splinter Wood watched him with awe in his eyes, seeing for the first\n time the incredible instinct that had made Kerry Blane the idol of a\n billion people. He relaxed visibly, all instinctive fear allayed by the\n brilliant competence of his companion.\n\n\n Seconds flowed into moments, and the moments merged into one another,\n and still the clouds pressed with a visible strength against the\n ports. The rockets drummed steadily, holding the ship aloft, dropping\n it slowly toward the planet below. Then the clouds thinned, and,\n incredibly, were permeated with a dim and glowing light. A second\n later, and the clouds were gone, and a thousand feet below tumbled and\n tossed in a majestic display of ruthless strength an ocean that seemed\n to be composed of liquid fluorescence.\n\n\n Kerry Blane heard Splinter's instant sigh of unbelief.\n\n\n \"Good Lord!\" Splinter said, \"What—\"\n\n\n His voice stilled, and he was silent, his eyes drinking in the weird\n incredible scene below.\nThe ocean was a shifting, white-capped wash of silvery light that\n gleamed with a bright phosphorescence of a hundred, intermingled,\n kaleidoscopic colors. And the unreal, unearthly light continued\n unbroken everywhere, reflected from the low-hanging clouds, reaching\n to the far horizon, bathing every detail of the planet in a brilliance\n more bright than moonlight.\n\n\n Splinter turned a wondering face. \"But the official reports say that\n there is no light on Venus,\" he exclaimed. \"That was one of the reasons\n given when exploration was forbidden!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane nodded. \"That was merely a pretext to keep foolhardy\n spacemen from losing their lives on the planet. In reality, the\n ocean is alive with an incredibly tiny marine worm that glows\n phosphorescently. The light generated from those billions of worms is\n reflected back from the clouds, makes Venus eternally lighted.\"\n\n\n He turned the ship to the North, relaxed a bit on the air bunk. He\n felt tired and worn, his body aching from the space bends of a few\n hours before.\n\n\n \"Take over,\" he said wearily. \"Take the ship North, and watch for any\n island.\"\n\n\n Splinter nodded, rested his long hands on the controls. The space\n cruiser lifted a bit in a sudden spurt of speed, and the rocket-sound\n was a solid thrum of unleashed power.\n\n\n Kerry Blane lit a cigarette, leaned toward a vision port. He felt again\n that thrill he had experienced when he had first flashed his single-man\n cruiser through the clouds years before. Then the breath caught in his\n throat, and he tapped his companion's arm.\n\n\n \"Take a look!\" he called excitedly.\n\n\n They fought in the ocean below, fought in a never-ending splashing of\n what seemed to be liquid fire. It was like watching a tri-dim screen of\n a news event, except for the utter lack of sound.\n\n\n One was scaly, while the other was skinned, and both were fully three\n hundred feet long. Great scimitars of teeth flashed in the light, and\n blood gouted and stained the water crimson whenever a slashing blow was\n struck. They threshed in a mad paroxysm of rage, whirling and spinning\n in the phosphorescent water like beings from a nightmare, exploding\n out of their element time and again, only to fall back in a gargantuan\n spray of fluorescence.\n\n\n And then the scaly monster flashed in a half-turn, drove forward with\n jaws agape, wrenched and ripped at the smooth black throat of the other\n creature. The second creature rippled and undulated in agony, whipping\n the ocean to foam, then went limp. The victorious monster circled the\n body of its dead foe, then, majestically, plunged from sight into the\n ocean's depths. An instant later, the water frothed, as hundreds of\n lesser marine monsters attacked and fed on the floating corpse.\n\n\n \"Brrrr!\" Splinter shivered in sudden horror.\n\n\n Kerry Blane chuckled dryly. \"Feel like going for a swim?\" he asked\n conversationally.\n\n\n Splinter shook his head, watched the scene disappear from view to the\n rear of the line of flight, then sank back onto his bunk.\n\n\n \"Not me!\" he said deprecatingly.\n\n\n Kerry Blane chuckled again, swung the cruiser toward the tiny smudge of\n black on the horizon. Glowing water flashed beneath the ship, seeming\n to smooth into a gleaming mirror shot with dancing colors. There was no\n sign of life anywhere.\n\n\n Thirty minutes later, Kerry Blane circled the island that floated\n free in the phosphorescent ocean. His keen eyes searched the tangled\n luxuriant growth of the jungle below, searching for some indication\n that the protoplasmic monster he seeked was there.\n\n\n \"I don't see anything suspicious,\" Splinter contributed.\n\n\n \"There's nothing special to see,\" Kerry Blane said shortly. \"As I\n understand it, anyway, this chunk of animated appetite hangs around an\n island shaped like a turtle. However, our orders are to investigate\n every island, just in case there might be more than one of the\n monsters.\"\n\n\n Splinter buckled on his dis-gun, excitement flaring in his eyes.\n\n\n \"Let's do a little exploring?\" he said eagerly.\n\n\n Kerry Blane shook his head, swung the cruiser north again.\n\n\n \"Plenty of time for that later,\" he said mildly. \"We'll find this\n turtle-island, make a landing, and take a look around. Later, if we're\n lucky enough to blow our objective to Kingdom Come, we'll do a little\n exploring of the other islands.\"\n\n\n \"Hell!\" Splinter scowled in mock disgust. \"An old woman like you should\n be taking in knitting for a living!\"\n\n\n \"Orders are orders!\" Kerry Blane shrugged.\nHe swung the cruiser in a wide arc to the north, trebling the flying\n speed within minutes, handling the controls with a familiar dexterity.\n He said nothing, searched the gleaming ocean for the smudge of\n blackness that would denote another island. His gaze flicked amusedly,\n now and then, to the lanky Splinter who scowled moodily and toyed with\n the dis-gun in his long hands.\n\n\n \"Cheer up, lad,\" Kerry Blane said finally. \"I think you'll find plenty\n to occupy your time shortly.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe?\" Splinter said gloomily.\n\n\n He idly swallowed another vitamin capsule, grinned, when he saw Kerry\n Blane's automatic grimace of distaste. Then he yawned hugely, twisted\n into a comfortable position, dozed sleepily.\n\n\n Kerry Blane rode the controls for the next three hours, searching the\n limitless ocean for the few specks of islands that followed the slow\n currents of the water planet. Always, there was the same misty light\n surrounding the ship, never dimming, giving a sense of unreality to the\n scene below. Nowhere was there the slightest sign of life until, in the\n fourth hour of flight, a tiny dot of blackness came slowly over the\n horizon's water line.\n\n\n Kerry Blane spun the ship in a tight circle, sent it flashing to the\n west. His keen eyes lighted, when he finally made out the turtle-like\n outline of the island, and he whistled softly, off-key, as he nudged\n the snoring Splinter.\n\n\n \"This is it, Sleeping Beauty,\" he called. \"Snap out of it!\"\n\n\n \"Huh? Whuzzat?\" Splinter grunted, rolled to his elbow.\n\n\n \"Here's the island.\"\n\n\n \"Oh!\" Splinter swung his feet from the bunk, peered from the vision\n port, sleepiness instantly erased from his face.\n\n\n \"Hot damn!\" he chortled. \"Now we'll see a little action!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane grinned, tried to conceal the excitement he felt. He shook\n his head, his fingers flickering over the control studs.\n\n\n \"Don't get your hopes too high, lad,\" he counseled. \"With those super\n Zelta guns, it won't take ten minutes to wipe out that monster.\"\n\n\n Splinter rubbed his hands together, sighed like a boy seeing his first\n circus. \"Listen, for ten minutes of that, I'd ride this chunk of metal\n for a year!\"\n\n\n \"Could be!\" Kerry Blane agreed.\n\n\n He peered through the port, seeking any spot clear enough for a landing\n field. Except for a strip of open beach, the island was a solid mass of\n heavy fern-like growth.\n\n\n \"Belt yourself,\" Kerry Blane warned. \"If that beach isn't solid, I'll\n have to lift the ship in a hell of a hurry.\"\n\n\n \"Right!\" Splinter's fingers were all thumbs in his excitement.\n\n\n Kerry Blane set the controls for a shallow glide, his fingers moving\n like a concert pianist's. The cruiser yawed slightly, settled slowly\n in a flat shallow glide.\n\n\n \"We're going in,\" Kerry Blane said quietly.\n\n\n He closed a knife switch, seeing too late the vitamin capsule that was\n lodged in the slot. There was the sharp splutter of a short-circuit,\n and a thin tendril of smoke drifted upward.\n\n\n \"Damn!\" Kerry Blane swore briefly.\n\n\n There was an instant, terrific explosion of the stern jets, and the\n cruiser hurtled toward the beach like a gravity-crazed comet.\n\n\n Kerry Blane said absolutely nothing, his breath driven from him by the\n suck of inertia. His hands darted for the controls, seeking to balance\n the forces that threw the ship about like a toy. He cut all rockets\n with a smashing swoop of his hand, tried to fire the bow rockets. But\n the short had ruined the entire control system.\n\n\n For one interminable second, he saw the uncanny uprush of the island\n below. He flicked his gaze about, saw the instant terror that wiped\n all other expression from his young companion's face. Then the cruiser\n plowed into the silvery sand.\n\n\n Belts parted like rotten string; they were thrown forward with crushing\n force against the control panel. They groped feebly for support, their\n bodies twisting involuntarily, as the ship cartwheeled a dozen times in\n a few seconds. Almost instantly, consciousness was battered from them.\n\n\n With one final, grinding bounce, the cruiser rolled to its side,\n twisted over and over for a hundred yards, then came to a metal-ripping\n stop against a moss-grown boulder at the water's edge.\nIII\n\n\n Kerry Blane choked, tried to turn his head from the water that trickled\n into his face. He opened his eyes, stared blankly, uncomprehendingly\n into the bloody features of the man bending over him.\n\n\n \"What happened?\" he gasped.\n\n\n Splinter Wood laughed, almost hysterically, mopped at his forehead with\n a wet handkerchief.\n\n\n \"I thought you were dead!\" he said simply.\n\n\n Kerry Blane moved his arm experimentally, felt broken bones grate in\n an exquisite wave of pain. He fought back the nausea, gazed about the\n cabin, realized the ship lay on its side.\n\n\n \"Maybe I am,\" he said ruefully. \"No man could live through that crash.\"\n\n\n Splinter moved away, sat down tiredly on the edge of a bunk. He shook\n his head dazedly, inspected the long cut on his leg.\n\n\n \"We seem to have done it,\" he said dully.\n\n\n Kerry Blane nodded, clambered to his feet, favoring his broken arm.\n He leaned over the control panel, inspecting the dials with a worried\n gaze. Slowly, his eyes lightened, and his voice was almost cheerful as\n he swung about.\n\n\n \"Everything is more or less okay,\" he said. \"The board will have to\n be rewired, but nothing else seems to be damaged so that repairs are\n needed.\"\n\n\n Splinter looked up from his task of bandaging his leg. \"What caused\n the crash?\" he asked. \"One minute, everything was all right; the next,\n Blooey!\"\n\n\n Anger suddenly mottled Kerry Blane's face; he swore monotonously and\n bitterly for a moment.\n\n\n \"Those gol-damned pills you been taking caused the crash!\" he roared.\n \"One of them broke and shorted out the control board.\" He scowled at\n the incredulous Splinter. \"By the three tails of a Martian sand-pup, I\n ought to cram the rest of them down your throat, boxes and all!\"\n\n\n Splinter flushed, seemed to be fumbling for words. After a bit, Kerry\n Blane grinned.\n\n\n \"Forget it, lad,\" he said more kindly, \"those things happen. Now, if\n you'll bind a splint about my arm, we'll see what we can do about\n righting the ship.\"\n\n\n Splinter nodded, opened the medical locker, worked with tape and\n splints for minutes. Great beads of perspiration stood out in high\n relief on Kerry Blane's forehead, but he made no sound. At last,\n Splinter finished, tucked the supplies away.\n\n\n \"Now what?\" he asked subduedly.\n\n\n \"Let's take a look outside, maybe set up the Zelta guns. Can't tell but\n what that protoplasmic nightmare might take a notion to pay us a visit\n in the near future!\"\n\n\n \"Right!\" Splinter unscrewed the port cogs, swung the portal back.\n\n\n He swung lithely from the portal, reached down a hand to help the\n older man. After much puffing and grunting, Kerry Blane managed to\n clamber through the port. They stood for a moment in silent wonder,\n staring at the long lazy rollers of milky fluorescence that rolled\n endlessly toward the beach, then turned to gaze at the great fern-like\n trees that towered two hundred feet into the air.\n\n\n \"How big do you feel now?\" Kerry Blane asked quietly.\n\n\n Splinter Wood was silent, awed by the beauty and the tremendous size of\n the growths on the water world.\n\n\n Kerry Blane walked the length of the cruiser, examining the slight\n damage done by the crash, evaluating the situation with a practiced\n gaze. He nodded slowly, retraced his steps, and stood looking at the\n furrow plowed in the sand.\n\n\n \"Won't be any trouble at all to lift the ship,\" he called. \"After\n rewiring the board, we'll turn the ship with an underjet, swing it\n about, and head her toward the sea.\"\n\n\n Splinter nodded, dropped into the open port. A moment later, he flipped\n a rope ladder outside, where it dangled to the ground, then climbed out\n himself, carrying the two Zelta guns.\n\n\n \"We'd better test these,\" he said. \"We don't want any slip-ups when we\n do go into action.\"\n\n\n He climbed down the ladder, laid the guns aside, then reached up a\n hand to aid Kerry Blane's descent. Kerry Blane came down slowly and\n awkwardly, jumped the last few feet. He felt surprisingly light and\n strong in the lesser gravity.\n\n\n He stood, leaning against the ship, watching as Splinter picked up\n the first gun and leveled it at a gigantic tree. Splinter sighted\n carefully, winked at the older man, then pressed the firing stud.\n\n\n Nothing happened; there was no hissing crackle of released energy.\n\n\n Kerry Blane strode forward, puzzlement on his lined face, his hand\n out-stretched toward the defective weapon. Splinter gaped at the gun in\n his hands, held it out wordlessly.\n\n\n \"The crash must have broken something,\" Kerry Blane said slowly.\n\n\n Splinter shook his head. \"There's only one moving part,\" he said, \"and\n that's the force gate on the firing stud.\"\n\n\n \"Try the other,\" Kerry Blane said slowly.\n\n\n \"Okay!\"\n\n\n Splinter lifted the second gun, pressed the stud, gazed white-faced at\n his companion.\n\n\n \"It won't work, either,\" he said stupidly. \"I don't get it? The source\n of power is limitless. Solar rays never—\"\n\n\n Old Kerry Blane dropped the first gun to his side, swore harshly.\n\n\n \"Damn it,\" he said. \"They didn't think of it; you didn't think of it;\n and I most certainly forgot! Solar rays can't penetrate the miles of\n clouds on Venus. Those guns are utterly useless as weapons!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was the overall relationship like between Splinter and Kerry?\n", "question_unique_id": "62261_SJZYUNBJ_1", "options": ["Splinter is a new space cadet with a chip on his shoulder, and Kerry can’t stand to be with him", "Kerry is an elder family member to Splinter", "Splinter despises being assigned an old space companion like Kerry so he picks fights with him", "Kerry is a veteran space traveller who took Splinter under his wing"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the characters receives the most medical intervention during the course of the story?", "question_unique_id": "62261_SJZYUNBJ_2", "options": ["The unnamed space warriors", "Kerry and Splinter receive about equal medical intervention", "Splinter", "Kerry"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What can be inferred about the size of the ship the characters travelled in?", "question_unique_id": "62261_SJZYUNBJ_3", "options": ["It was very small, only a single person cruiser", "It was relatively small, only large enough for two people", "It was large enough to have held a crew of a dozen", "It was a ship capable of bringing smaller cruisers inside of the cargo bay"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the author illustrate the planet of Venus upon their arrival?", "question_unique_id": "62261_SJZYUNBJ_4", "options": ["Covered almost entirely in multi-colored water", "Covered in clouds, with an amount of land similar to Earth", "Covered almost entirely in a pitch black ocean", "Barren, empty seabed"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are the islands of Venus?", "question_unique_id": "62261_SJZYUNBJ_5", "options": ["Floating pads covered in jungle", "Exposed continental plates risen to the surface from tectonics", "Volcanic mountains poking out of the sea", "Moons"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do the space travellers navigate around the planet of Venus?", "question_unique_id": "62261_SJZYUNBJ_6", "options": ["Only by sight", "Radar", "Using a search and rescue flight pattern", "Using magnetic poles"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Splinter feel about being with Kerry on the turtle-shaped island?", "question_unique_id": "62261_SJZYUNBJ_7", "options": ["Angry with him that they had crashed", "Terrified to be alone with him", "Pitiful that he had broken his arm", "Relieved to have his experience at hand"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Kerry come out of retirement for the mission?", "question_unique_id": "62261_SJZYUNBJ_8", "options": ["He wanted to feel like his old self again", "He was strictly following orders ", "He didn’t care whether he lived or died", "He thought that Splinter would screw it up alone"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/2/6/62261//62261-h//62261-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62314", "set_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Stranger From Space", "year": 1964, "author": "Bok, Hannes", "topic": "Life on other planets -- Fiction; Short stories; PS; Science fiction; Venus (Planet) -- Fiction", "article": "STRANGER FROM SPACE\nBy HANNES BOK\nShe prayed that a God would come from the skies\n\n and carry her away to bright adventures. But\n\n when he came in a metal globe, she knew only\n\n disappointment—for his godliness was oddly strange!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories March 1943.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nIt was twilight on Venus—the rusty red that the eyes notice when\n their closed lids are raised to light. Against the glow, fantastically\n twisted trees spread claws of spiky leaves, and a group of clay huts\n thrust up sharp edges of shadow, like the abandoned toy blocks of a\n gigantic child. There was no sign of clear sky and stars—the heavens\n were roofed by a perpetual ceiling of dust-clouds.\n\n\n A light glimmered in one of the huts. Feminine voices rippled across\n the clearing and into the jungle. There was laughter, then someone's\n faint and wistful sigh. One of the voices mourned, in the twittering\n Venusian speech, \"How I envy you, Koroby! I wish I were being married\n tonight, like you!\"\n\n\n Koroby stared defiantly at the laughing faces of her bridesmaids. She\n shrugged hopelessly. \"I don't care,\" she said slowly. \"It will be nice\n to have Yasak for a husband—yes. And perhaps I do love him. I don't\n know.\" She tightened her lips as she reflected on it.\n\n\n She left them, moving gracefully to the door. Venus-girls were\n generally of truly elfin proportions, so delicately slim that they\n seemed incapable of the slightest exertion. But Koroby's body\n was—compared to her friends'—voluptuous.\n\n\n She rested against the door-frame, watching the red of the afterglow\n deepen to purple. \"I want romance,\" she said, so softly that the girls\n had to strain forward to hear her. \"I wish that there were other worlds\n than this—and that someone would drop out of the skies and claim\n me ... and take me away from here, away from all this—this monotony!\"\n\n\n She turned back to her friends, went to them, one of her hands, patting\n the head of the kneeling one. She eyed herself in the mirror.\n\n\n \"Well—heigh-ho! There don't seem to be any other worlds, and nobody is\n going to steal me away from Yasak, so I might as well get on with my\n preparations. The men with the litter will be here soon to carry me to\n the Stone City.\"\n\n\n She ran slim hands down her sides, smoothing the blue sarong; she\n fondled her dark braids. \"Trossa, how about some flowers at my ears—or\n do you think that it would look a little too much—?\" Her eyes sought\n the mirror, and her lips parted in an irreprehensible smile. She\n trilled softly to herself, \"Yes, I am beautiful tonight—the loveliest\n woman Yasak will ever see!\" And then, regretfully, sullenly, \"But oh,\n if only\nHe\nwould come ... the man of my dreams!\"\n\n\n There was a rap at the doorway; they turned. One of the litter-bearers\n loomed darker than the gloomy sky. \"Are you ready?\" he asked.\n\n\n Koroby twirled before the mirror, criticizing her appearance. \"Yes,\n ready,\" she said.\n\n\n \"Ready!\" the girls cried. Then there was a little silence.\n\n\n \"Shall we go now?\" Koroby asked, and the litter-carrier nodded. Koroby\n kissed the girls, one after another. \"Here, Shonka—you can have this\n bracelet you've always liked. And this is for you, Lolla. And here,\n Trossa—and you, Shia. Goodbye, darlings, goodbye—come and see me\n whenever you can!\"\n\n\n \"Goodbye, Koroby!\"\n\n\n \"Goodbye! Goodbye!\" They crowded around her, embracing, babbling\n farewells, shreds of advice. Trossa began to cry. Finally Koroby broke\n away from them, went to the door. She took a last look at the interior\n of the little hut, dim in the lamplight—at the hard bed of laced\ngnau\n-hide strips, the crude but beautifully-carved charts and chests.\n Then she turned and stepped out into the night.\n\n\n \"This way,\" the litter-carrier announced, touching the girl's arm. They\n stumbled over the rutted clearing toward the twinkling sparks that were\n the lights of the other litter-bearers, colored sparks as befitted\n a wedding-conveyance. The winking lights were enclosed in shells of\n colored glass for another reason—the danger of their firing the papery\n jungle verdure.\nIt was not a new litter, built especially for the occasion—Yasak was\n too practical a man to sanction any kind of waste. It was the same\n old litter that Koroby had been watching come and go ever since she\n was a little girl, a canopied framework of gaudily-painted carvings.\n She had wondered, watching it pass, whether its cushioned floor was\n soft, and now, as she stepped into the litter, she patted the padding\n experimentally. Yes, it was soft .... And fragrant, too—a shade too\n fragrant. It smelled stale, hinting of other occupants, other brides\n being borne to other weddings....\n\n\n Garlands of flowers occupied a good deal of space in it. Settled among\n them, she felt like a bird in a strange nest. She leaned back among\n them; they rustled dryly. Too bad—it had been such a dry year—\n\n\n \"You're comfortable?\" the litter bearer asked. Koroby nodded, and the\n litter was lifted, was carried along the path.\n\n\n The procession filed into the jungle, into a tunnel of arched branches,\n of elephant-eared leaves. Above the monotonous music came the hiss of\n the torches, the occasional startled cry of a wakened bird. The glow of\n the flames, in the dusty air, hung around the party, sharply defined,\n like a cloak of light. At times a breeze would shake the ceiling of\n foliage, producing the sound of rolling surf.\n\n\n Koroby fingered the flowers around her throat, her eyes rapt on the\n passing trees. Her lips moved in the barest murmur: \"If only—!\"\n and again, \"Oh, if only—!\" But the music trickled on, and nothing\n happened; the litter seemed to float along—none of the bearers even\n stumbled.\n\n\n They came to a cleared space of waist-high grass. It was like a canyon\n steeply walled by cliffs of verdure. The litter jerked as it glided\n along, and Koroby heard one of the bearers exclaim gruffly, \"Listen!\"\n Then the litter resumed its dream-like floating on the backs of the men.\n\n\n \"What was it?\" another bearer asked.\n\n\n \"Thought I heard something,\" the other replied. \"Shrill and high—like\n something screaming—\"\n\n\n Koroby peered out. \"A\ngnau\n?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" the bearer volunteered.\n\n\n Koroby lifted a hand. \"Stop the litter,\" she said.\nThe conveyance halted. Koroby leaning out, the men peering around them,\n they listened. One of the bearers shouted at the musicians; the music\n ceased. There was nothing to be heard except the whisper of the breeze\n in the grass.\n\n\n Then the girl heard it—a shrill, distant whine, dying away, then\n growing louder—and louder—it seemed to be approaching—from the sky—\n\n\n All the faces were lifted up now, worriedly. The whine grew\n louder—Koroby's hands clenched nervously on the wreaths at her throat—\n\n\n Then, far ahead, a series of bright flashes, like the lightning of the\n dust-storms, but brilliantly green. A silence, then staccatto reports,\n certainly not thunder—unlike any sound that Koroby had ever heard.\n\n\n There was a babble of voices as the musicians crowded together, asking\n what had it been, and where—just exactly—could one suppose it had\n happened, that thunder—was it going to storm!\n\n\n They waited, but nothing further happened—there were no more stabs of\n green light nor detonations. The bearers stooped to lift the litter's\n poles to their shoulders. \"Shall we go on?\" one of them asked Koroby.\n\n\n She waved a hand. \"Yes, go on.\"\nThe litter resumed its gentle swaying, but the music did not start\n again. Then, from the direction of the light-flashes, a glow appeared,\n shining steadily, green as the flashes had been. Noticing it, Koroby\n frowned. Then the path bent, and the glow swung to one side.\n\n\n Suddenly Koroby reached out, tapped the shoulder of the closet bearer.\n \"Go toward the light.\"\n\n\n His face swung up to hers. \"But—there's no path that way—\"\n\n\n \"I don't care,\" she said. \"Take me there.\" Her order had reached the\n others' ears, and they slowed their pace.\n\n\n \"Lady—believe me—it's impossible. There's nothing but matted jungle\n in that direction—we'd have to hack our way as we go along. And who\n knows how far away that light is? Besides, you're on your way to be\n married.\"\n\n\n \"Take me to that light!\" she persisted.\n\n\n They set the litter down. \"We can't do that,\" one man said to another.\n\n\n Koroby stepped out to the path, straightened up, her eyes on the glow.\n \"You'd better,\" she said ominously. \"Otherwise, I'll make a complaint\n to Yasak—\"\n\n\n The men eyed each other, mentally shrugging. \"Well—\" one yielded.\n\n\n The girl whirled impatiently on the others. \"Hurry!\" she cried. \"If you\n won't take me, I'll go by myself. I must get to that fire, whatever it\n is!\" She put a hand to her heart. \"I must! I must!\" Then she faced the\n green glare again, smiling to herself.\n\n\n \"You can't do that!\" a carrier cried.\n\n\n \"Well, then, you take me,\" she said over her shoulder.\n\n\n Grumbling, they bent to the conveyance's poles, and Koroby lithely\n slipped to the cushions. They turned off the path, plodded through the\n deep grass toward the light. The litter lurched violently as their\n feet caught in the tangled grass, and clouds of fine dust arose from\n the disturbed blades.\nBy the time they reached the source of the light, they were quite\n demoralized. The musicians had not accompanied them, preferring to\n carry the message to Yasak in the Stone City that his prospective\n bride had gone off on a mad journey. The bearers were powdered grey\n with dust, striped with blood where the dry grass-stems had cut them.\n They were exhausted and panting. Koroby was walking beside them, for\n they had abandoned the litter finally. Her blue drapery was ripped and\n rumpled; her carefully-arranged braids had fallen loose; dust on her\n face had hid its youthful color, aging her.\n\n\n The expedition emerged from the jungle on a sandy stretch of barren\n land. A thousand feet away a gigantic metal object lay on the sand,\n crumpled as though it had dropped from a great distance. It had been\n globular before the crash, and was pierced with holes like windows.\n What could it possibly be? A house? But whoever heard of a metal house?\n Why, who could forge such a thing! Yasak's house in the City had iron\n doors, and they were considered one of the most wonderful things of the\n age. It would take a giant to make such a ponderous thing as this.\n\n\n A house, fallen from the sky? The green lights poured out of its\n crumpled part, and a strange bubbling and hissing filled the air.\n\n\n Koroby stopped short, clasping her hands and involuntarily uttering a\n squeal of joyful excitement, for between her and the blaze, his eyes on\n the destruction, stood a man.....\n\n\n He was very tall, and his shoulders were very wide. Oh, but he looked\n like a man, and stood like one—even though his hands were folded\n behind his back and he was probably dejected. A man in a house from the\n sky—\n\n\n Koroby hastily grasped a corner of her gown, moistened it with saliva,\n and scrubbed her face. She rearranged her hair, and stepped forward.\n\n\n \"Don't go there—it's magic—he'll cast a spell—!\" one of the bearers\n whispered urgently, reaching after her, but Koroby pushed him away. The\n litter-carriers watched the girl go, unconsciously huddling together\n as if feeling the need for combined strength. They withdrew into the\n jungle's shadows, and waited there anxiously, ready at any moment to\n run away.\n\n\n But Koroby, with supreme confidence, walked toward the stranger, her\n lovely body graceful as a cat's, her face radiant. The man did not hear\n her. She halted behind him, waited silent, expectant, excited—but he\n did not turn. The green fire sputtered upward. At last the girl stepped\n to the man's side and gently touched him again. He turned, and her\n heart faltered: she swayed with bliss.\n\n\n He was probably a god. Not even handsome Yasak looked like this. Here\n was a face so finely-chiseled, so perfectly proportioned, that it was\n almost frightening, unhuman, mechanical. It was unlined and without\n expression, somehow unreal. Mysterious, compelling.\n\n\n He was clothed very peculiarly. A wonderfully-made metallic garment\n enclosed his whole body—legs and all, unlike the Venus-men's tunics.\n Even his feet were covered. Perhaps it was armor—though the Venus-men\n usually wore only breastplate and greaves. And a helmet hid all of\n the man's head except his face. Around his waist was a belt with many\n incomprehensible objects dangling from it. If he was so well armored,\n why was he not carrying a sword—a dagger at least! Of what use were\n those things on his belt—for instance, that notched L-shaped thing? It\n would not even make a decent club!\n\n\n The stranger did not speak, merely gazed deeply into Koroby's eyes. And\n she, returning the gaze, wondered if he was peering into her very soul.\n The words of a folk-ballad came to her:\n\n\"—He'll smile and touch my cheek,\nAnd maybe more;\nAnd though we'll neither speak,\nWe'll know the score—\"\nSuddenly he put his hands to her cheeks and bent close to her, his eyes\n peering into hers as though he were searching for something he had lost\n in them. She spoke her thought: \"What are you doing? You seem to be\n reading my mind!\"\n\n\n Without removing hands, he nodded. \"Reading—mind.\" He stared long\n into her eyes. His dispassionate, too-perfect face began to frighten\n her. She slipped back from him, her hand clutching her throat.\n\n\n He straightened up and spoke—haltingly at first, then with growing\n assurance. \"Don't be afraid. I mean you no harm.\" She trembled. It was\n such a wonderful voice—it was as she had always dreamed it! But she\n had never really believed in the dream....\n\n\n He was looking at the wrecked globe of metal. \"So there are people on\n Venus!\" he said slowly.\n\n\n Koroby watched him, forgot her fear, and went eagerly to him, took his\n arm. \"Who are you?\" she asked. \"Tell me your name!\"\n\n\n He turned his mask of a face to her. \"My name? I have none,\" he said.\n\n\n \"No name? But who are you? Where are you from? And what is that?\" She\n pointed at the metal globe.\n\n\n \"The vehicle by which I came here from a land beyond the sky,\" he said.\n She had no concept of stars or space, and he could not fully explain.\n \"From a world known as Terra.\"\n\n\n She was silent a moment, stunned. So there was another world! Then she\n asked, \"Is it far? Have you come to take me there?\"\n\n\n Here the similarity between her dream and actual experience ended.\n What was he thinking as he eyed her for a long moment? She had no way\n of guessing. He said, \"No, I am not going to take you back there.\" Her\n month gaped in surprise, and he continued, \"As for the distance to\n Terra—it is incredibly far away.\"\n\n\n The glare was beginning to die, the green flames' hissing fading to a\n whisper. They watched the melting globe sag on the sand. Then Koroby\n said, \"But if it is so far away, how could you speak my language? There\n are some tribes beyond the jungle whose language is unlike ours—\"\n\n\n \"I read your mind,\" he explained indifferently. \"I have a remarkable\n memory.\"\n\n\n \"Remarkable indeed!\" she mocked. \"No one here could do that.\"\n\n\n \"But my race is infinitely superior to yours,\" he said blandly. \"You\n little people—ah—\" He gestured airily.\n\n\n Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. \"And I?\"\n\n\n His voice sounded almost surprised. \"What about you?\"\n\n\n \"You see nothing about me worthy of your respect? Are you infinitely\n superior to me—\nme\n?\"\n\n\n He looked her up and down. \"Of course!\"\n\n\n Her eyes jerked wide open and she took a deep breath. \"And just who do\n you think you are? A god?\"\n\n\n He shook his head. \"No. Just better informed, for one thing. And—\"\n\n\n Koroby cut him short. \"What's your name?\"\n\n\n \"I have none.\"\n\n\n \"What do you mean, you have none?\"\n\n\n He seemed just a trifle bored. \"We gave up names long ago on my world.\n We are concerned with more weighty things than our own selves. But I\n have a personal problem now,\" he said, making a peculiar sound that\n was not quite a sigh. \"Here I am stranded on Venus, my ship utterly\n wrecked, and I'm due at the Reisezek Convention in two weeks. You\"—he\n gripped Koroby's shoulder, and his strength made her wince—\"tell me,\n where is the nearest city? I must communicate with my people at once.\"\n\n\n She pointed. \"The Stone City's that way.\"\n\n\n \"Good,\" he said. \"Let's go there.\"\n\n\n They took another glance at the metal globe and the green fire, which\n by now had died to a fitful glimmer. Then the stranger and the girl\n started toward the jungle, where the litter-bearers awaited them.\nAs the party was struggling through the prairie's tall grass, the man\n said to Koroby, \"I realize from the pictures in your mind that there\n is no means in your city of communicating directly with my people. But\n it seems that there are materials which I can utilize in building a\n signal—\"\n\n\n He was walking along, head erect, apparently quite at ease, while the\n litter bearers and Koroby could barely drag themselves with him. The\n girl's garment was a tattered ruin. Her skin was gritty with dust, and\n she was bleeding from many scratches. She tripped over tangled roots\n and exclaimed in pain. Then the man took one of the strange implements\n from his belt, pressed a knob on it, and light appeared as if by magic!\n He handed the stick to Koroby, but she was afraid to touch it. This was\n a strange light that gave no heat, nor flickered in the breeze. Finally\n she accepted it from him, but carried it gingerly at arm's length.\n\n\n She refused to believe that he had no name, and so he named himself.\n \"Call me Robert. It is an ancient name on Terra.\"\n\n\n \"Robert,\" she said, and, \"Robert.\"\n\n\n But at last she could go no farther. She had forced herself along\n because she wanted to impress this indifferent man that she was not as\n inferior as he might think—but now she could not go on. With a little\n cry almost of relief, she sank to the ground and lay semi-conscious, so\n weary that the very pain of it seemed on the point of pleasure.\n\n\n Robert dipped down, scooped her up, and carried her.\n\n\n Lights glimmered ahead; shouts reached them. It was a searching party,\n Yasak in it. The litter-carriers who could still speak blurted out what\n had happened. \"A green light—loud sounds—fire—this man there—\" and\n then dropped into sleep.\n\n\n \"Someone carry these men,\" Yasak ordered. To Robert he said, \"We're not\n very far from the path to the City now. Shall I carry the girl?\"\n\n\n \"It makes no difference,\" Robert said.\n\n\n \"You will stay with me while you are in the City, of course,\" Yasak\n said, as they walked. He eyed this handsome stranger speculatively, and\n then turned to shout an necessary order. \"You, there, keep in line!\" He\n glanced at Robert furtively to see if this had impressed him at all.\nIt was day. Koroby sat up in bed and scanned her surroundings. She was\n in Yasak's house. The bed was very soft, the coverlets of the finest\n weave. The furniture was elegantly carved and painted; there were even\n paintings on the walls.\n\n\n A woman came to the bed. She was stocky and wore drab grey: the blue\n circles tattooed on her cheeks proclaimed her a slave. \"How do you\n feel?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"Fairly well. How long have I been ill?\" Koroby asked, sweetly weak.\n\n\n \"You haven't been ill. They brought you in last night.\"\n\n\n \"Oh,\" Koroby said disappointedly, and sat upright. \"I feel as if I'd\n been lying here for weeks. Where's Yasak? Where's the strange man in\n armor?\"\n\n\n \"Yasak's out somewhere. The stranger man is in the room at the end of\n the hall.\"\n\n\n \"Fetch me something to wear—that's good enough,\" the girl accepted the\n mantle offered by the slave. \"Quick, some water—I must wash.\"\n\n\n In a few minutes she was lightly running down the hall; she knocked on\n the door of Robert's room. \"May I come in?\"\n\n\n He did not answer. She waited a little and went in. He was seated on\n one of the carved chairs, fussing over some scraps of metal on the\n table. He did not look up.\n\n\n \"Thank you for carrying me, Robert.\" He did not reply. \"Robert—I\n dreamed of you last night. I dreamed you built another round house and\n that we both flew away in it. Yasak had to stay behind, and he was\n furious. Robert! Aren't you listening?\"\n\n\n \"I hear you.\"\n\n\n \"Don't you think it was an exciting dream?\" He shook his head. \"But\n why? Robert\"—she laid longing hands on his shoulders—\"can't you see\n that I'm in love with you?\" He shrugged. \"I believe you don't know what\n love is!\"\n\n\n \"I had a faint idea of it when I looked into your mind,\" he said. \"I'm\n afraid I haven't any use for it. Where I come from there is no love,\n and there shouldn't be here, either. It's a waste of time.\"\n\n\n \"Robert—I'm mad about you! I've dreamed of your coming—all my life!\n Don't be so cruel—so cold to me! You mock me, say that I'm nothing,\n that I'm not worthy of you—\"\n\n\n She stepped back from him, clenching her hands. \"Oh, I hate you—hate\n you! You don't care the least bit about me—and I've shamed myself in\n front of you—I, supposed to be Yasak's wife by now!\" She began to\n cry, hid her face in suddenly lax fingers. She looked up fiercely. \"I\n could kill you!\" Robert stood immobile, no trace of feeling marring the\n perfection of his face. \"I could kill you, and I will kill you!\" she\n sprang at him.\n\n\n \"You'll hurt yourself,\" he admonished kindly, and after she had\n pummeled his chest, bruising her fingers on his armor, she turned away.\n\n\n \"And now if you're through playing your incomprehensible little scene,\"\n Robert said, \"I hope you will excuse me. I regret that I have no\n emotions—I was never allowed them. But it is an esthetic regret.... I\n must go back to my wrecked ship now and arrange the signals there.\" He\n did not wait for her leave, but strode out of the room.\n\n\n Koroby huddled on a chair, sobbing. Then she dried her eyes on the\n backs of her hands. She went to the narrow slits that served as windows\n and unfastened the translucent shutter of one. Down in the City street,\n Robert was walking away. Her eyes hardened, and her fingers spread\n into ugly claws. Without bothering to pull the shutter in place she\n hurried out of the room, ran eagerly down the hall. She stopped at\n the armor-rack at the main hall on her way outside, and snatched up a\nsiatcha\n—a firestone. Then she slipped outside and down the street.\nThe City's wall was not far behind. Robert was visible in the distance,\n striding toward his sky-ship, a widening cloud of dust rising behind\n him like the spreading wake of a boat. Koroby stood on tip-toe, waving\n and calling after him, \"Robert! Robert! Come back!\" but he did not seem\n to hear.\n\n\n She watched him a little longer. Then she deliberately stooped and drew\n the firestone out of its sheath. She touched it to a blade of the tall\n grass. A little orange flame licked up, slowly quested along the blade,\n down to the ground and up another stem. It slipped over to another\n stem, and another, growing larger, hotter—Koroby stepped back from the\n writhing fire, her hand protectively over her face.\n\n\n The flames crackled at first—like the crumpling of thin paper. Then,\n as they widened and began climbing hand over hand up an invisible\n ladder, they roared. Koroby was running back toward the City now, away\n from the heat. The fire spread in a long line over the prairie. Above\n its roar came shouts from the City. The flames rose in a monstrous\n twisting pillar, brighter than even the dust-palled sky, lighting the\n buildings and the prairie. The heat was dreadful.\n\n\n Koroby reached the City wall, panted through the gate into a shrieking\n crowd. Someone grasped her roughly—she was too breathless to do more\n than gasp for air—and shook her violently. \"You fool, you utter\n fool! What did you think you were doing?\" Others clamored around her,\n reaching for her. Then she heard Yasak's voice. Face stern, he pushed\n through the crowd, pressed her to him. \"Let her alone—Let her alone, I\n say!\"\n\n\n They watched the conflagration, Yasak and Koroby, from a higher part of\n the wall than where the others were gathered. They could glimpse Robert\n now and then. He was running, trying to outrace the flames. Then they\n swept around him, circling him—his arms flailed frantically.\nThe fire had passed over the horizon. The air was blue with smoke,\n difficult to breathe, and ashes were drifting lightly down like\n dove-colored snow. Yasak, watery eyed, a cloth pressed to his nose, was\n walking with several others over the smoking earth and still warm ashes\n up to his knees. In one hand he held a stick. He stopped and pointed.\n \"He fell about here,\" he said, and began to probe the ashes with the\n stick.\n\n\n He struck something. \"Here he is!\" he cried. The others hurried to the\n spot and scooped ashes away, dog-fashion, until Robert's remains were\n laid clear. There were exclamations of amazement and perplexity from\n the people.\n\n\n It was a metal skeleton, and the fragments of complicated machinery,\n caked with soot.\n\n\n \"He wasn't human at all!\" Yasak marvelled. \"He was some kind of a toy\n made to look like a man—that's why he wore armor, and his face never\n changed expression—\"\n\n\n \"Magic!\" someone cried, and backed away.\n\n\n \"Magic!\" the others repeated, and edged back ... and that was the\n end of one of those robots which had been fashioned as servants for\n Terrestial men, made in Man's likeness to appease Man's vanity, then\n conquered him.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the relationship like between Yasak and Koroby?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_1", "options": ["They are set to meet for the first time on the date of their marriage", "Yasak is faithfully devoted to Koroby’s needs", "Koroby is faithfully devoted to Yasak, but falls in love with Robert", "Koroby has always loved Yasak, but Yasak treats her poorly"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Koroby think of the vehicle she took to her wedding?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_2", "options": ["It was carved by craftspeople and painted delicately", "It was old and musty", "It smelled beautifully of flower garlands", "It was delightful for her to finally ride in a space ship to her wedding"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What time period in human history does the author liken the Venusian planet to?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_3", "options": ["The dawn of the Space Age", "A fairytale of the Stone Age", "A society on the edge of an industrial revolution", "A magical Iron Age"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What likely happened to Koroby after the story ended?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_4", "options": ["She likely married Yasak", "She likely died from her wounds in the fire", "She likely hurried to complete her space ship to explore Terra", "Yasak was so fed up with her at that point he likely banished her"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Yasak feel towards Robert upon their meeting?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_5", "options": ["Shocked by his appearance", "A friendly camaraderie", "Threatened by his presence", "Angry he had carried Koroby"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Robert communicate with the Venusians?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_6", "options": ["Both the Venusians and his people from Terra speak the same language", "He carries a translation device ", "He communicates telepathically", "He learns thoughts and language through mind reading"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What statement best describes Robert?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_7", "options": ["He is revered as a god by all the Venusians in Stone City", "He is a Venusian that travelled to outer space and returned home completely changed", "He is an artificially intelligent machine that overtook planet Terra from humans", "He is a bionic human that had become immortal"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Koroby feel motivated to start the fire?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_8", "options": ["She starts the fire by accident while fleeing Stone City", "She starts the fire to protect Robert from being pursued", "She has had her heart broken and is fueled by rage", "She does not wish to marry Yasak, so must create a diversion"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Under what circumstances does Yasak first reunite with Koroby during the story?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_9", "options": ["He went looking for her when she was late to their wedding", "Some of the wedding procession alerted him to her distress", "He intercepted the wedding procession in a grassy field", "He was investigating the source of the green flame when he saw her"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Robert feel about becoming stranded on Venus?", "question_unique_id": "62314_ARZ8DZS1_10", "options": ["He was unmoved by the situation", "He was eager to explore Venus while he fixed his ship", "He was anxious to fix his ship and return to Terra", "He felt lucky to have survived the crash"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/3/1/62314//62314-h//62314-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61430", "set_unique_id": "61430_X9N4VIUX", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Manners and Customs of the Thrid", "year": 1961, "author": "Leinster, Murray", "topic": "Short stories; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Prisoners -- Fiction; Escapes -- Fiction; Manners and customs -- Fiction", "article": "MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE THRID\nBY MURRAY LEINSTER\nThe Thrid were the wisest creatures in\n\n space—they even said so themselves!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nI\n\n\n The real trouble was that Jorgenson saw things as a business man does.\n But also, and contradictorily, he saw them as right and just, or as\n wrong and intolerable. As a business man, he should have kept his mind\n on business and never bothered about Ganti. As a believer in right and\n wrong, it would have been wiser for him to have stayed off the planet\n Thriddar altogether. Thriddar was no place for him, anyhow you look at\n it. On this particular morning it was especially the wrong place for\n him to be trying to live and do business.\n\n\n He woke up thinking of Ganti, and in consequence he was in a bad mood\n right away. Most humans couldn't take the sort of thing that went on on\n Thriddar. Most of them wanted to use missile weapons—which the Thrid\n did not use—to change the local social system. Most humans got off\n Thriddar—fast! And boiling mad.\n\n\n Jorgenson had stood it longer than most because in spite of their\n convictions he liked the Thrid. Their minds did do outside loops, and\n come up with intolerable convictions. But they were intelligent enough.\n They had steam-power and even steam-driven atmosphere fliers, but they\n didn't have missile weapons and they did have a social system that\n humans simply couldn't accept—even though it applied only to Thrid.\n The ordinary Thrid, with whom Jorgenson did business, weren't bad\n people. It was the officials who made him grind his teeth. And though\n it was his business only to run the trading post of the Rim Stars\n Trading Corporation, sometimes he got fed up.\n\n\n This morning was especially beyond the limit. There was a new Grand\n Panjandrum—the term was Jorgenson's own for the supreme ruler over\n all the Thrid—and when Jorgenson finished his breakfast a high Thrid\n official waited in the trading-post compound. Around him clustered\n other Thrid, wearing the formal headgear that said they were Witnesses\n to an official act.\n\n\n Jorgenson went out, scowling, and exchanged the customary ceremonial\n greetings. Then the high official beamed at him and extracted a scroll\n from his voluminous garments. Jorgenson saw the glint of gold and was\n suspicious at once. The words of a current Grand Panjandrum were always\n written in gold. If they didn't get written in gold they didn't get\n written at all; but it was too bad if anybody ignored any of them.\n\n\n The high official unrolled the scroll. The Thrid around him, wearing\n Witness hats, became utterly silent. The high official made a sound\n equivalent to clearing his throat. The stillness became death-like.\n\n\n \"On this day,\" intoned the high official, while the Witnesses\n listened reverently, \"on this day did Glen-U the Never-Mistaken, as\n have been his predecessors throughout the ages;—on this day did the\n Never-Mistaken Glen-U speak and say and observe a truth in the presence\n of the governors and the rulers of the universe.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson reflected sourly that the governors and the rulers of the\n universe were whoever happened to be within hearing of the Grand\n Panjandrum. They were not imposing. They were scared. Everybody is\n always scared under an absolute ruler, but the Grand Panjandrum was\n worse than that. He couldn't make a mistake. Whatever he said had to\n be true, because he said it, and sometimes it had drastic results. But\n past Grand Panjandrums had spoken highly of the trading post. Jorgenson\n shouldn't have much to worry about. He waited. He thought of Ganti. He\n scowled.\n\n\n \"The great and Never-Mistaken Glen-U,\" intoned the official again,\n \"in the presence of the governors and the rulers of the universe, did\n speak and say and observe that it is the desire of the Rim Star Trading\n Corporation to present to him, the great and never-mistaken Glen-U, all\n of the present possessions of the said Rim Stars Trading Corporation,\n and thereafter to remit to him all moneys, goods, and benefactions\n to and of the said Rim Stars Trading Corporation as they shall be\n received. The great and Never-Mistaken Glen-U did further speak and say\n and observe that anyone hindering this loyal and admirable gift must,\n by the operation of truth, vanish from sight and nevermore be seen face\n to face by any rational being.\"\nThe high official rolled up the scroll, while Jorgenson exploded inside.\nA part of this was reaction as a business man. A part was recognition\n of all the intolerable things that the Thrid took as a matter of\n course. If Jorgenson had reacted solely as a business man he'd have\n swallowed it, departed on the next Rim Stars trading-ship—which would\n not have left any trade-goods behind—and left the Grand Panjandrum to\n realize what he had lost when no off-planet goods arrived on Thriddar.\n In time he'd speak and say and observe that he, out of his generosity,\n gave the loot back. Then the trading could resume. But Jorgenson didn't\n feel only like a business man this morning. He thought of Ganti, who\n was a particular case of everything he disliked on Thriddar.\n\n\n It was not wise to be moved by such sympathetic feelings. The Grand\n Panjandrum could not be mistaken. It was definitely unwise to\n contradict him. It could even be dangerous. Jorgenson was in a nasty\n spot.\n\n\n The Witnesses murmured reverently:\n\n\n \"We hear the words of the Never-Mistaken Glen-U.\"\n\n\n The high official tucked away the scroll and said blandly:\n\n\n \"I will receive the moneys, goods, and benefactions it is the desire\n of the Rim Stars Trading Corporation to present to the great and\n Never-Mistaken Glen-U.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson, boiling inside, nevertheless knew what he was doing. He said\n succinctly:\n\n\n \"Like hell you will!\"\n\n\n There was an idiom in Thrid speech that had exactly the meaning of the\n human phrase. Jorgenson used it.\n\n\n The high official looked at him in utter stupefaction. Nobody\n contradicted the Grand Panjandrum! Nobody! The Thrid had noticed long\n ago that they were the most intelligent race in the universe. Since\n that was so, obviously they must have the most perfect government.\n But no government could be perfect if its officials made mistakes. So\n no Thrid official ever made a mistake. In particular the great and\n Never-Mistaken Glen-U could not conceivably blunder! When he said a\n thing, it was true! It had to be! He'd said it! And this was the\n fundamental fact in the culture of the Thrid.\n\n\n \"Like hell you'll receive moneys and goods and such!\" snapped\n Jorgenson. \"Like hell you will!\"\n\n\n The high official literally couldn't believe his ears.\n\n\n \"But—but the great and Never-Mistaken Glen-U—\"\n\n\n \"Is mistaken!\" said Jorgenson bitingly. \"He's wrong! The Rim Stars\n Trading Corporation does\nnot\nwant to give him anything! What he has\n said is not true!\" This was the equivalent of treason, blasphemy and\n the ultimate of indecorous behavior toward a virgin Pelean princess. \"I\n won't give him anything! I'm not even vanishing from sight! Glen-U is\n wrong about that, too! Now—git!\"\n\n\n He jerked out his blaster and pulled the trigger.\n\n\n There was an explosive burst of flame from the ground between the\n official and himself. The official fled. With him fled all the\n Witnesses, some even losing their headgear in their haste to get away.\nJorgenson stamped into the trading-post building. His eyes were stormy\n and his jaw was set.\n\n\n He snapped orders. The hired Thrid of the trading-post staff had not\n quite grasped the situation. They couldn't believe it. Automatically,\n as he commanded the iron doors and shutters of the trading post closed,\n they obeyed. They saw him turn on the shocker-field so that nobody\n could cross the compound without getting an electric shock that would\n discourage him. They began to believe.\n\n\n Then he sent for the trading-post Thrid consultant. On Earth he'd have\n called for a lawyer. On a hostile world there'd have been a soldier to\n advise him. On Thrid the specialist to be consulted wasn't exactly a\n theologian, but he was nearer that than anything else.\n\n\n Jorgenson laid the matter indignantly before him, repeating the exact\n phrases that said the trading company wanted—wanted!—practically to\n give itself to the Never-Mistaken Glen-U, who was the Grand Panjandrum\n of Thriddar. He waited to be told that it couldn't have happened; that\n anyhow it couldn't be intended. But the theologian's Thriddish ears\n went limp, which amounted to the same thing as a man's face turning\n pale. He stammered agitatedly that if the Grand Panjandrum said it, it\n was true. It couldn't be otherwise! If the trading company wanted to\n give itself to him, there was nothing to be done. It wanted to! The\n Grand Panjandrum had said so!\n\n\n \"He also said,\" said Jorgenson irritably, \"that I'm to vanish and\n nevermore be seen face to face by any rational being. How does that\n happen? Do I get speared?\"\n\n\n The trading-post theologian quivered. Jorgenson made things much worse.\n\n\n \"This,\" he raged, \"this is crazy! The Grand Panjandrum's an ordinary\n Thrid just like you are! Of course he can make a mistake! There's\n nobody who can't be wrong!\"\n\n\n The theologian put up feebly protesting, human-like hands. He begged\n hysterically to be allowed to go home before Jorgenson vanished, with\n unknown consequences for any Thrid who might be nearby.\n\n\n When Jorgenson opened a door to kick him out of it, the whole staff of\n the trading-post plunged after him. They'd been eavesdropping and they\n fled in pure horror.\n\n\n Jorgenson swore impartially at all of them and turned the shocker-field\n back on. He plugged in a capacity circuit which would turn on warning\n sirens if anything like a steam-driven copter passed or hovered over\n the trading-post. He put blasters in handy positions. The Thrid used\n only spears, knives and scimitars. Blasters would defend the post\n against a multitude.\n\n\n As a business man, he'd acted very foolishly. But he'd acted even less\n sensibly as a human being. He'd gotten fed up with a social system\n and a—call it—theology it wasn't his business to change. True, the\n Thrid way of life was appalling, and what had happened to Ganti was\n probably typical. But it wasn't Jorgenson's affair. He'd been unwise to\n let it disturb him. If the Thrid wanted things this way, it was their\n privilege.\n\n\n In theory, no Thrid should ever make a mistake, because he belonged\n to the most intelligent race in the universe. But a local governor\n was even more intelligent. If an ordinary Thrid challenged a local\n governor's least and lightest remark—why—he must be either a criminal\n or insane. The local governor decided—correctly, of course—which\n he was. If he was a criminal, he spent the rest of his life in a gang\n of criminals chained together and doing the most exhausting labor the\n Thrid could contrive. If he was mad, he was confined for life.\nThere'd been Ganti, a Thrid of whom Jorgenson had had much hope. He\n believed that Ganti could learn to run the trading post without human\n supervision. If he could, the trading company could simply bring trade\n goods to Thriddar and take away other trade goods. The cost of doing\n business would be decreased. There could be no human-Thrid friction.\n Jorgenson had been training Ganti for this work.\n\n\n But the local Thrid governor had spoken and said and observed that\n Ganti's wife wanted to enter his household. He added that Ganti wanted\n to yield her to him.\n\n\n Jorgenson had fumed—but not as a business man—when the transfer took\n place. But Ganti had been conditioned to believe that when a governor\n said he wanted to do something, he did. He couldn't quite grasp the\n contrary idea. But he moped horribly, and Jorgenson talked sardonically\n to him, and he almost doubted that an official was necessarily right.\n When his former wife died of grief, his disbelief became positive. And\n immediately afterward he disappeared.\n\n\n Jorgenson couldn't find out what had become of him. Dour reflection on\n the happening had put him in the bad mood which had started things,\n this morning.\n\n\n Time passed. He had the trading-post in a position of defense. He\n prepared his lunch, and glowered. More time passed. He cooked his\n dinner, and ate. Afterward he went up on the trading-post roof to smoke\n and to coddle his anger. He observed the sunset. There was always some\n haze in the air on Thriddar, and the colorings were very beautiful. He\n could see the towers of the capital city of the Thrid. He could see a\n cumbersome but still graceful steam-driven aircraft descend heavily to\n the field at the city's edge. Later he saw another steam-plane rise\n slowly but reliably and head away somewhere else. He saw the steam\n helicopters go skittering above the city's buildings.\n\n\n He fumed because creatures intelligent enough to build steam fliers\n weren't intelligent enough to see what a racket their government was.\n Now that the new Grand Panjandrum had moved against him, Jorgenson made\n an angry, dogged resolution to do something permanent to make matters\n better. For the Thrid themselves. Here he thought not as a business\n man only, but as a humanitarian. As both. When a whim of the Grand\n Panjandrum could ruin a business, something should be done. And when\n Ganti and countless others had been victims of capricious tyranny....\n And Jorgenson was slated to vanish from sight and never again be\n seen.... It definitely called for strong measures!\n\n\n He reflected with grim pleasure that the Grand Panjandrum would soon\n be in the position of a Thrid whom everybody knew was mistaken. With\n the trading-post denied him and Jorgenson still visible, he'd be\n notoriously wrong. And he couldn't be, and still be Grand Panjandrum!\n\n\n It would be a nice situation for Glen-U. He'd have to do something\n about it, and there was nothing he could do. He'd blundered, and it\n would soon be public knowledge.\n\n\n Jorgenson dozed lightly. Then more heavily. Then more heavily still.\n The night was not two hours old when the warning sirens made a terrific\n uproar. The Thrid for miles around heard the wailing, ullulating sound\n of the sirens that should have awakened Jorgenson.\n\n\n But they didn't wake him. He slept on.\nWhen he woke, he knew that he was cold. His muscles were cramped. Half\n awake, he tried to move and could not.\n\n\n Then he tried to waken fully, and he couldn't do that either. He stayed\n in a dream-like, frustrated state which was partly like a nightmare,\n while very gradually new sensations came to him. He felt a cushioned\n throbbing against his chest, in the very hard surface on which he lay\n face down. That surface swayed and rocked slightly. He tried again to\n move, and realized that his hands and feet were bound. He found that he\n shivered, and realized that his clothing had been taken from him.\n\n\n He was completely helpless and lying on his stomach in the cargo-space\n of a steam helicopter: now he could hear the sound of its machinery.\n\n\n Then he knew what had happened. He'd committed The unthinkable\n crime—or lunacy—of declaring the Grand Panjandrum mistaken. So by the\n operation of truth, which was really an anesthetic gas cloud drifted\n over the trading post, he had vanished from sight.\n\n\n Now it was evidently to be arranged that he would never again be seen\n face to face by a rational being. The Grand Panjandrum had won the\n argument. Within a few months a Rim Stars trading ship would land, and\n Jorgenson would be gone and the trading post confiscated. It would be\n hopeless to ask questions, and worse than hopeless to try to trade. So\n the ship would lift off and there'd be no more ships for at least a\n generation. Then there might—there might!—be another.\n\n\n Jorgenson swore fluently and with passion.\n\n\n \"It will not be long,\" said a tranquil voice.\n\n\n Jorgenson changed from human-speech profanity to Thrid. He directed\n his words to the unseen creature who'd spoken. That Thrid listened,\n apparently without emotion. When Jorgenson ran out of breath, the voice\n said severely:\n\n\n \"You declared the great and Never-Mistaken Glen-U mistaken. This could\n not be. It proved you either a criminal or insane, because no rational\n creature could believe him mistaken. He declared you insane, and he\n cannot be wrong. So soon you will arrive where you are to be confined\n and no rational being will ever see you face to face.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson switched back to human swearing. Then he blended both\n languages, using all the applicable words he knew both in human speech\n and Thrid. He knew a great many. The soft throbbing of the steam-driven\n rotors went on, and Jorgenson swore both as a business man and a\n humanitarian. Both were frustrated.\n\n\n Presently the motion of the copter changed. He knew the ship was\n descending. There were more violent swayings, as if from wind gusts\n deflected by something large and solid. Jorgenson even heard deep-bass\n rumblings like sea upon a rocky coast. Then there were movements near\n him, a rope went around his waist, a loading-bay opened and he found\n himself lifted and lowered through it.\nHe dangled in midair, a couple of hundred feet above an utterly barren\n island on which huge ocean swells beat. The downdraft from the copter\n made him sway wildly, and once it had him spinning dizzily. The horizon\n was empty. He was being lowered swiftly to the island. And his hands\n and feet were still securely tied.\n\n\n Then he saw a figure on the island. It was a Thrid stripped of all\n clothing like Jorgenson and darkened by the sun. That figure came\n agilely toward where he was let down. It caught him. It checked his\n wild swingings, which could have broken bones. The rope slackened. The\n Thrid laid Jorgenson down.\n\n\n He did not cast off the rope. He seemed to essay to climb it.\n\n\n It was cut at the steam-copter and came tumbling down all over both of\n them. The Thrid waved his arms wildly and seemed to screech gibberish\n at the sky. There was an impact nearby, of something dropped. Jorgenson\n heard the throbbing sound of the copter as it lifted and swept away.\n\n\n Then he felt the bounds about his arms and legs being removed. Then a\n Thrid voice—amazingly, a familiar Thrid voice—said:\n\n\n \"This is not good, Jorgenson. Who did you contradict?\"\n\n\n The Thrid was Ganti, of whom Jorgenson had once had hopes as a business\n man, and for whose disaster he had felt indignation as something else.\n He loosened the last of Jorgenson's bonds and helped him sit up.\n\n\n Jorgenson glared around. The island was roughly one hundred feet by\n two. It was twisted, curdled yellow stone from one end to the other.\n There were stone hillocks and a miniature stony peak, and a narrow\n valley between two patches of higher rock. Huge seas boomed against\n the windward shore, throwing spray higher than the island's topmost\n point. There were some places where sand had gathered. There was one\n spot—perhaps a square yard of it—where sand had been made fertile by\n the droppings of flying things and where two or three starveling plants\n showed foliage of sorts. That was all. Jorgenson ground his teeth.\n\n\n \"Go ahead,\" said Ganti grimly, \"but it may be even worse than you\n think.\"\n\n\n He scrambled over the twisted stone of the island. He came back,\n carrying something.\n\n\n \"It isn't worse,\" he said. \"It's only as bad. They did drop food and\n water for both of us. I wasn't sure they would.\"\nHis calmness sobered Jorgenson. As a business man, he was moved to make\n his situation clear. He told Ganti of the Grand Panjandrum's move to\n take over the Rim Stars trading post, which was bad business. He told\n of his own reaction, which was not a business-like one at all. Then he\n said dourly:\n\n\n \"But he's still wrong. No rational being is supposed ever to see me\n face to face. But you do.\"\n\n\n \"But I'm crazy,\" said Ganti calmly. \"I tried to kill the governor\n who'd taken my wife. So he said I was crazy and that made it true. So\n I wasn't put in a chained group of laborers. Somebody might have seen\n me and thought about it. But, sent here, it's worse for me and I'm\n probably forgotten by now.\"\n\n\n He was calm about it. Only a Thrid would have been so calm. But they've\n had at least hundreds of generations in which to get used to injustice.\n He accepted it. But Jorgenson frowned.\n\n\n \"You've got brains, Ganti. What's the chance of escape?\"\n\n\n \"None,\" said Ganti unemotionally. \"You'd better get out of the sun.\n It'll burn you badly. Come along.\"\n\n\n He led the way over the bare, scorching rocky surface. He turned past a\n small pinnacle. There was shadow. Jorgenson crawled into it, and found\n himself in a cave. It was not a natural one. It had been hacked out,\n morsel by morsel. It was cool inside. It was astonishingly roomy.\n\n\n \"How'd this happen?\" demanded Jorgenson the business man.\n\n\n \"This is a prison,\" Ganti explained matter-of-factly. \"They let me\n down here and dropped food and water for a week. They went away. I\n found there'd been another prisoner here before me. His skeleton was in\n this cave. I reasoned it out. There must have been others before him.\n When there is a prisoner here, every so often a copter drops food and\n water. When the prisoner doesn't pick it up, they stop coming. When,\n presently, they have another prisoner they drop him off, like me, and\n he finds the skeleton of the previous prisoner, like me, and he dumps\n it overboard as I did. They'll drop food and water for me until I stop\n picking it up. And presently they'll do the same thing all over again.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson glowered. That was his reaction as a person. Then he gestured\n to the cave around him. There was a pile of dried-out seaweed for\n sleeping purposes.\n\n\n \"And this?\"\n\n\n \"Somebody dug it out,\" said Ganti without resentment. \"To keep busy.\n Maybe one prisoner only began it. A later one saw it started and worked\n on it to keep busy. Then others in their turn. It took a good many\n lives to make this cave.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson ground his teeth a second time.\n\n\n \"And just because they'd contradicted somebody who couldn't be wrong!\n Or because they had a business an official wanted!\"\n\n\n \"Or a wife,\" agreed Ganti. \"Here!\"\n\n\n He offered food. Jorgenson ate, scowling. Afterward, near sundown, he\n went over the island.\n\n\n It was rock, nothing else. There was a pile of small broken stones from\n the excavation of the cave. There were the few starveling plants. There\n was the cordage with which Jorgenson had been lowered. There was the\n parcel containing food and water. Ganti observed that the plastic went\n to pieces in a week or so, so it couldn't be used for anything. There\n was nothing to escape with. Nothing to make anything to escape with.\n\n\n Even the dried seaweed bed was not comfortable. Jorgenson slept badly\n and waked with aching muscles. Ganti assured him unemotionally that\n he'd get used to it.\n\n\n He did. By the time the copter came to drop food and water again,\n Jorgenson was physically adjusted to the island. But neither as a\n business man or as a person could he adjust to hopelessness.\n\n\n He racked his brains for the most preposterous or faintest hope of\n deliverance. There were times when as a business man he reproached\n himself for staying on Thriddar after he became indignant with the way\n the planet was governed. It was very foolish. But much more often he\n felt such hatred of the manners and customs of the Thrid—which had\n put him here—that it seemed that something must somehow be possible if\n only so he could take revenge.\nIII\n\n\n The copter came, it dropped food and water, and it went away. It came,\n dropped food and water, and went away. Once a water-bag burst when\n dropped. They lost nearly half a week's water supply. Before the copter\n came again they'd gone two days without drinking.\n\n\n There were other incidents, of course. The dried seaweed they slept on\n turned to powdery trash. They got more seaweed hauling long kelp-like\n strands of it ashore from where it clung to the island's submerged\n rocks. Ganti mentioned that they must do it right after the copter\n came, so there would be no sign of enterprise to be seen from aloft.\n The seaweed had long, flexible stems of which no use whatever could be\n made. When it dried, it became stiff and brittle but without strength.\n\n\n Once Ganti abruptly began to talk of his youth. As if he were examining\n something he'd never noticed before, he told of the incredible\n conditioning-education of the young members of his race. They learned\n that they must never make a mistake. Never! It did not matter if they\n were unskilled or inefficient. It did not matter if they accomplished\n nothing. There was no penalty for anything but making mistakes or\n differing from officials who could not make mistakes.\n\n\n So Thrid younglings were trained not to think; not to have any opinion\n about anything; only to repeat what nobody questioned; only to do what\n they were told by authority. It occurred to Jorgenson that on a planet\n with such a population, a skeptic could make a great deal of confusion.\n\n\n Then, another time, Jorgenson decided to make use of the weathering\n cord which had been cut from the copter when he was landed. He cut\n off a part of it with a sharp-edged fragment of stone from the pile\n some former prisoner on the island had made. He unravelled the twisted\n fibers. Then he ground fishhooks from shells attached to the island's\n rocky walls just below water-line. After that they fished. Sometimes\n they even caught something to eat. But they never fished when the\n copter was due.\n\n\n Jorgenson found that a fish-fillet, strongly squeezed and wrung like a\n wet cloth, would yield a drinkable liquid which was not salt and would\n substitute for water. And this was a reason to make a string bag in\n which caught fish could be let back into the sea so they were there\n when wanted but could not escape.\n\n\n They had used it for weeks when he saw Ganti, carrying it to place it\n where they left it overboard, swinging it idly back and forth as he\n walked.\nIf Jorgenson had been only a businessman, it would have had no\n particular meaning. But he was also a person, filled with hatred of\n the Thrid who had condemned him for life to this small island. He saw\n the swinging of the fish. It gave him an idea.\n\n\n He did not speak at all during all the rest of that day. He was\n thinking. The matter needed much thought. Ganti left him alone.\n\n\n But by sunset he'd worked it out. While they watched Thrid's red sun\n sink below the horizon, Jorgenson said thoughtfully:\n\n\n \"There is a way to escape, Ganti.\"\n\n\n \"On what? In what?\" demanded Ganti.\n\n\n \"In the helicopter that feeds us,\" said Jorgenson.\n\n\n \"It never lands,\" said Ganti practically.\n\n\n \"We can make it land,\" said Jorgenson. Thrid weren't allowed to make\n mistakes; he could make it a mistake not to land.\n\n\n \"The crew is armed,\" said Ganti. \"There are three of them.\"\n\n\n \"They've only knives and scimitars,\" said Jorgenson. \"They don't count.\n We can make better weapons than they have.\"\n\n\n Ganti looked skeptical. Jorgenson explained. He had to demonstrate\n crudely. The whole idea was novel to Ganti, but the Thrid were smart.\n Presently he grasped it. He said:\n\n\n \"I see the theory. If we can make it work, all right. But how do we\n make the copter land?\"\n\n\n Jorgenson realized that they talked oddly. They spoke with leisurely\n lack of haste, with the lack of hope normal to prisoners to whom escape\n is impossible, even when they talk about escape. They could have been\n discussing a matter that would not affect either of them. But Jorgenson\n quivered inside. He hoped.\n\n\n \"We'll try it,\" said Ganti detachedly, when he'd explained again. \"If\n it fails, they'll only stop giving us food and water.\"\n\n\n That, of course, did not seem either to him or Jorgenson a reason to\n hesitate to try what Jorgenson had planned.\n\n\n It was not at all a direct and forthright scheme. It began with the\n untwisting of more of the rope that had lowered Jorgenson. It went on\n with the making of string from that fiber. They made a great deal of\n string. Then, very clumsily and awkwardly, they wove strips of cloth,\n a couple of inches wide and five or six long. They made light strong\n cords extend from the ends of the cloth strips. Then they practiced\n with these bits of cloth and the broken stones a former prisoner had\n piled so neatly.\n\n\n The copter came and dropped food and water. When it left, they\n practiced. When it came again they were not practicing, but when it\n went away they practiced. They were a naked man and a naked Thrid,\n left upon a morsel of rock in a boundless sea, rehearsing themselves\n in an art so long-forgotten that they had to reinvent the finer parts\n of the technique. They experimented. They tried this. They tried that.\n When the copter appeared, they showed themselves. They rushed upon the\n dropped bag containing food and water as if fiercely trying to deny\n each other a full share. Once they seemed to fight over the dropped\n bag. The copter hovered to watch. The fight seemed furious and deadly,\n but inconclusive.\n\n\n When the copter went away Jorgenson and Ganti went briskly back to\n their practicing.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did the supreme ruler deliver a scroll message to Jorgenson?\n", "question_unique_id": "61430_X9N4VIUX_1", "options": ["To acquire his lucrative business", "To lure him into an elaborate brainwashing scheme", "To silence his ideas within Thrid society", "To frighten him into behaving as the Thrid did"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the purpose of the Witnesses?", "question_unique_id": "61430_X9N4VIUX_2", "options": ["To observe and report those who challenge the supreme ruler", "To deliver scroll messages from the Never-Mistaken Glen-U", "To carry the elaborate vessels in which the supreme ruler travels", "To burden those they witness with social pressure"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Jorgenson so angry to have his business taken by Glen-U?", "question_unique_id": "61430_X9N4VIUX_3", "options": ["Glen-U had made his closest friend disappear", "He needed his business to support his family", "He came to the planet to defeat Glen-U’s dictatorship", "He believed anyone to be capable of making mistakes"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would the Thrid likely believe drives their system of governance?", "question_unique_id": "61430_X9N4VIUX_4", "options": ["Extensive study of nearby planetary governance successes", "Their ancient scriptures", "Opinion", "Wisdom of the supreme family lineage"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What happened if a local governor made a mistake that was recognized?", "question_unique_id": "61430_X9N4VIUX_5", "options": ["The accuser was heavily medicated to become non-contrarian", "The accuser was put to a painful death by rudimentary weapons of the Thrid", "The accuser was never again seen by a rational being.", "The accuser was banished from the planet and their goods forfeited to the supreme ruler."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0031", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the definition of truth to the Thrid?", "question_unique_id": "61430_X9N4VIUX_6", "options": ["That which is observed by the Witnesses", "That which is dictated by those in power", "That which can be proven by scientific principles", "That which is outlined in their Thriddar stories"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why were Jorgenson and Ganti not put to death?", "question_unique_id": "61430_X9N4VIUX_7", "options": ["It was never ordered", "They had intellectually outsmarted the Thrid by making it seem a mistake to kill them", "They had ally Witnesses in the government that secretly kept them alive", "They proved to be useful in their resourcefulness"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "In what way was Jorgenson’s reasoning similar to that of the Thrid?", "question_unique_id": "61430_X9N4VIUX_8", "options": ["Neither required evidence to draw conclusions", "Neither allowed nuance", "Both were skeptical of novel ideas", "Both followed intuition"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/3/61430//61430-h//61430-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63041", "set_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1006", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Morgue Ship", "year": 1954, "author": "Bradbury, Ray", "topic": "Space ships -- Fiction; PS; War stories; Short stories; Science fiction; Morgues -- Fiction", "article": "Morgue Ship\nBy RAY BRADBURY\nThis was Burnett's last trip. Three more\n\n shelves to fill with space-slain warriors—and\n\n he would be among the living again.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1944.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHe heard the star-port grind open, and the movement of the metal claws\n groping into space, and then the star-port closed.\n\n\n There was another dead man aboard the\nConstellation\n.\n\n\n Sam Burnett shook his long head, trying to think clearly. Pallid and\n quiet, three bodies lay on the cold transparent tables around him;\n machines stirred, revolved, hummed. He didn't see them. He didn't see\n anything but a red haze over his mind. It blotted out the far wall of\n the laboratory where the shelves went up and down, numbered in scarlet,\n keeping the bodies of soldiers from all further harm.\n\n\n Burnett didn't move. He stood there in his rumpled white surgical\n gown, staring at his fingers gloved in bone-white rubber; feeling all\n tight and wild inside himself. It went on for days. Moving the ship.\n Opening the star-port. Extending the retriever claw. Plucking some poor\n warrior's body out of the void.\n\n\n He didn't like it any more. Ten years is too long to go back and\n forth from Earth to nowhere. You came out empty and you went back\n full-cargoed with a lot of warriors who didn't laugh or talk or smoke,\n who just lay on their shelves, all one hundred of them, waiting for a\n decent burial.\n\n\n \"Number ninety-eight.\" Coming matter of fact and slow, Rice's voice\n from the ceiling radio hit Burnett.\n\n\n \"Number ninety-eight,\" Burnett repeated. \"Working on ninety-five,\n ninety-six and ninety-seven now. Blood-pumps, preservative, slight\n surgery.\" Off a million miles away his voice was talking. It sounded\n deep. It didn't belong to him anymore.\n\n\n Rice said:\n\n\n \"Boyohbody! Two more pick-ups and back to New York. Me for a ten-day\n drunk!\"\n\n\n Burnett peeled the gloves off his huge, red, soft hands, slapped them\n into a floor incinerator mouth. Back to Earth. Then spin around and\n shoot right out again in the trail of the war-rockets that blasted one\n another in galactic fury, to sidle up behind gutted wrecks of ships,\n salvaging any bodies still intact after the conflict.\n\n\n Two men. Rice and himself. Sharing a cozy morgue ship with a hundred\n other men who had forgotten, quite suddenly, however, to talk again.\n\n\n Ten years of it. Every hour of those ten years eating like maggots\n inside, working out to the surface of Burnett's face, working under the\n husk of his starved eyes and starved limbs. Starved for life. Starved\n for action.\n\n\n This would be his last trip, or he'd know the reason why!\n\n\n \"Sam!\"\n\n\n Burnett jerked. Rice's voice clipped through the drainage-preservative\n lab, bounded against glassite retorts, echoed from the refrigerator\n shelves. Burnett stared at the tabled bodies as if they would leap to\n life, even while preservative was being pumped into their veins.\n\n\n \"Sam! On the double! Up the rungs!\"\n\n\n Burnett closed his eyes and said a couple of words, firmly. Nothing was\n worth running for any more. Another body. There had been one hundred\n thousand bodies preceding it. Nothing unusual about a body with blood\n cooling in it.\nShaking his head, he walked unsteadily toward the rungs that gleamed\n up into the air-lock, control-room sector of the rocket. He climbed\n without making any noise on the rungs.\n\n\n He kept thinking the one thing he couldn't forget.\nYou never catch up with the war.\nAll the color is ahead of you. The drive of orange rocket traces across\n stars, the whamming of steel-nosed bombs into elusive targets, the\n titanic explosions and breathless pursuits, the flags and the excited\n glory are always a million miles ahead.\n\n\n He bit his teeth together.\nYou never catch up with the war.\nYou come along when space has settled back, when the vacuum has stopped\n trembling from unleashed forces between worlds. You come along in the\n dark quiet of death to find the wreckage plunging with all the fury of\n its original acceleration in no particular direction. You can only see\n it; you don't hear anything in space but your own heart kicking your\n ribs.\n\n\n You see bodies, each in its own terrific orbit, given impetus by\n grinding collisions, tossed from mother ships and dancing head over\n feet forever and forever with no goal. Bits of flesh in ruptured space\n suits, mouths open for air that had never been there in a hundred\n billion centuries. And they kept dancing without music until you\n extended the retriever-claw and culled them into the air-lock.\n\n\n That was all the war-glory he got. Nothing but the stunned, shivering\n silence, the memory of rockets long gone, and the shelves filling up\n all too quickly with men who had once loved laughing.\n\n\n You wondered who all the men were; and who the next ones would be.\n After ten years you made yourself blind to them. You went around doing\n your job with mechanical hands.\n\n\n But even a machine breaks down....\n\"Sam!\" Rice turned swiftly as Burnett dragged himself up the ladder.\n Red and warm, Rice's face hovered over the body of a sprawled enemy\n official. \"Take a look at this!\"\n\n\n Burnett caught his breath. His eyes narrowed. There was something wrong\n with the body; his experienced glance knew that. He didn't know what it\n was.\n\n\n Maybe it was because the body looked a little\ntoo\ndead.\n\n\n Burnett didn't say anything, but he climbed the rest of the way,\n stood quietly in the grey-metal air-lock. The enemy official was as\n delicately made as a fine white spider. Eyelids, closed, were faintly\n blue. The hair was thin silken strands of pale gold, waved and pressed\n close to a veined skull. Where the thin-lipped mouth fell open a\n cluster of needle-tipped teeth glittered. The fragile body was enclosed\n completely in milk-pale syntha-silk, a holstered gun at the middle.\n\n\n Burnett rubbed his jaw. \"Well?\"\n\n\n Rice exploded. His eyes were hot in his young, sharp-cut face, hot and\n black. \"Good Lord, Sam, do you know who this is?\"\n\n\n Burnett scowled uneasily and said no.\n\n\n \"It's Lethla!\" Rice retorted.\n\n\n Burnett said, \"Lethla?\" And then: \"Oh, yes! Kriere's majordomo. That\n right?\"\n\n\n \"Don't say it calm, Sam. Say it big. Say it big! If Lethla is here in\n space, then Kriere's not far away from him!\"\n\n\n Burnett shrugged. More bodies, more people, more war. What the hell.\n What the hell. He was tired. Talk about bodies and rulers to someone\n else.\n\n\n Rice grabbed him by the shoulders. \"Snap out of it, Sam. Think!\n Kriere—The All-Mighty—in our territory. His right hand man dead. That\n means Kriere was in an accident, too!\"\n\n\n Sam opened his thin lips and the words fell out all by themselves.\n \"Look, Rice, you're new at this game. I've been at it ever since the\n Venus-Earth mess started. It's been see-sawing back and forth since the\n day you played hookey in the tenth grade, and I've been in the thick\n of it. When there's nothing left but seared memories, I'll be prowling\n through the void picking up warriors and taking them back to the good\n green Earth. Grisly, yes, but it's routine.\n\n\n \"As for Kriere—if he's anywhere around, he's smart. Every precaution\n is taken to protect that one.\"\n\n\n \"But Lethla! His body must mean something!\"\n\n\n \"And if it does? Have we got guns aboard this morgue-ship? Are we a\n battle-cuiser to go against him?\"\n\n\n \"We'll radio for help?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah? If there's a warship within our radio range, seven hundred\n thousand miles, we'll get it. Unfortunately, the tide of battle has\n swept out past Earth in a new war concerning Io. That's out, Rice.\"\n\n\n Rice stood about three inches below Sam Burnett's six-foot-one. Jaw\n hard and determined, he stared at Sam, a funny light in his eyes. His\n fingers twitched all by themselves at his sides. His mouth twisted,\n \"You're one hell of a patriot, Sam Burnett!\"\n\n\n Burnett reached out with one long finger, tapped it quietly on Rice's\n barrel-chest. \"Haul a cargo of corpses for three thousand nights and\n days and see how patriotic you feel. All those fine muscled lads\n bloated and crushed by space pressures and heat-blasts. Fine lads who\n start out smiling and get the smile burned off down to the bone—\"\n\n\n Burnett swallowed and didn't say anything more, but he closed his eyes.\n He stood there, smelling the death-odor in the hot air of the ship,\n hearing the chug-chug-chug of the blood pumps down below, and his own\n heart waiting warm and heavy at the base of his throat.\n\n\n \"This is my last cargo, Rice. I can't take it any longer. And I don't\n care much how I go back to earth. This Venusian here—what's his name?\n Lethla. He's number ninety-eight. Shove me into shelf ninety-nine\n beside him and get the hell home. That's how I feel!\"\n\n\n Rice was going to say something, but he didn't have time.\n\n\n Lethla was alive.\n\n\n He rose from the floor with slow, easy movements, almost like a dream.\n He didn't say anything. The heat-blast in his white fingers did all the\n necessary talking. It didn't say anything either, but Burnett knew what\n language it would use if it had to.\n\n\n Burnett swallowed hard. The body had looked funny. Too dead. Now he\n knew why. Involuntarily, Burnett moved forward. Lethla moved like a\n pale spider, flicking his fragile arm to cover Burnett, the gun in it\n like a dead cold star.\n\n\n Rice sucked in his breath. Burnett forced himself to take it easy. From\n the corners of his eyes he saw Rice's expression go deep and tight,\n biting lines into his sharp face.\n\n\n Rice got it out, finally. \"How'd you do it?\" he demanded, bitterly.\n \"How'd you live in the void? It's impossible!\"\n\n\n A crazy thought came ramming down and exploded in Burnett's head.\nYou\n never catch up with the war!\nBut what if the war catches up with you?\n\n\n What in hell would Lethla be wanting aboard a morgue ship?\nLethla half-crouched in the midst of the smell of death and the\n chugging of blood-pumps below. In the silence he reached up with quick\n fingers, tapped a tiny crystal stud upon the back of his head, and the\n halves of a microscopically thin chrysalis parted transparently off\n of his face. He shucked it off, trailing air-tendrils that had been\n inserted, hidden in the uniform, ending in thin globules of oxygen.\n\n\n He spoke. Triumph warmed his crystal-thin voice. \"That's how I did it,\n Earthman.\"\n\n\n \"Glassite!\" said Rice. \"A face-moulded mask of glassite!\"\n\n\n Lethla nodded. His milk-blue eyes dilated. \"Very marvelously pared to\n an unbreakable thickness of one-thirtieth of an inch; worn only on the\n head. You have to look quickly to notice it, and, unfortunately, viewed\n as you saw it, outside the ship, floating in the void, not discernible\n at all.\"\n\n\n Prickles of sweat appeared on Rice's face. He swore at the Venusian and\n the Venusian laughed like some sort of stringed instrument, high and\n quick.\n\n\n Burnett laughed, too. Ironically. \"First time in years a man ever came\n aboard the Constellation alive. It's a welcome change.\"\n\n\n Lethla showed his needle-like teeth. \"I thought it might be. Where's\n your radio?\"\n\n\n \"Go find it!\" snapped Rice, hotly.\n\n\n \"I will.\" One hand, blue-veined, on the ladder-rungs, Lethla paused.\n \"I know you're weaponless; Purple Cross regulations. And this air-lock\n is safe. Don't move.\" Whispering, his naked feet padded white up the\n ladder. Two long breaths later something crashed; metal and glass and\n coils. The radio.\n\n\n Burnett put his shoulder blades against the wall-metal, looking at his\n feet. When he glanced up, Rice's fresh, animated face was spoiled by\n the new bitterness in it.\n\n\n Lethla came down. Like a breath of air on the rungs.\n\n\n He smiled. \"That's better. Now. We can talk—\"\n\n\n Rice said it, slow:\n\n\n \"Interplanetary law declares it straight, Lethla! Get out! Only dead\n men belong here.\"\n\n\n Lethla's gun grip tightened. \"More talk of that nature, and only dead\n men there will be.\" He blinked. \"But first—we must rescue Kriere....\"\n\n\n \"Kriere!\" Rice acted as if he had been hit in the jaw.\n\n\n Burnett moved his tongue back and forth on his lips silently, his eyes\n lidded, listening to the two of them as if they were a radio drama.\n Lethla's voice came next:\n\n\n \"Rather unfortunately, yes. He's still alive, heading toward Venus\n at an orbital velocity of two thousand m.p.h., wearing one of these\n air-chrysali. Enough air for two more hours. Our flag ship was attacked\n unexpectedly yesterday near Mars. We were forced to take to the\n life-boats, scattering, Kriere and I in one, the others sacrificing\n their lives to cover our escape. We were lucky. We got through the\n Earth cordon unseen. But luck can't last forever.\n\n\n \"We saw your morgue ship an hour ago. It's a long, long way to Venus.\n We were running out of fuel, food, water. Radio was broken. Capture\n was certain. You were coming our way; we took the chance. We set a\n small time-bomb to destroy the life-rocket, and cast off, wearing our\n chrysali-helmets. It was the first time we had ever tried using them to\n trick anyone. We knew you wouldn't know we were alive until it was too\n late and we controlled your ship. We knew you picked up all bodies for\n brief exams, returning alien corpses to space later.\"\n\n\n Rice's voice was sullen. \"A set-up for you, huh? Traveling under the\n protection of the Purple Cross you can get your damned All-Mighty safe\n to Venus.\"\n\n\n Lethla bowed slightly. \"Who would suspect a Morgue Rocket of providing\n safe hiding for precious Venusian cargo?\"\n\n\n \"Precious is the word for you, brother!\" said Rice.\n\n\n \"Enough!\" Lethla moved his gun several inches.\n\n\n \"Accelerate toward Venus, mote-detectors wide open. Kriere must be\n picked up—\nnow!\n\"\nRice didn't move. Burnett moved first, feeling alive for the first time\n in years. \"Sure,\" said Sam, smiling. \"We'll pick him up.\"\n\n\n \"No tricks,\" said Lethla.\n\n\n Burnett scowled and smiled together. \"No tricks. You'll have Kriere on\n board the\nConstellation\nin half an hour or I'm no coroner.\"\n\n\n \"Follow me up the ladder.\"\n\n\n Lethla danced up, turned, waved his gun. \"Come on.\"\n\n\n Burnett went up, quick. Almost as if he enjoyed doing Lethla a favor.\n Rice grumbled and cursed after him.\n\n\n On the way up, Burnett thought about it. About Lethla poised like\n a white feather at the top, holding death in his hand. You never\n knew whose body would come in through the star-port next. Number\n ninety-eight was Lethla. Number ninety-nine would be Kriere.\n\n\n There were two shelves numbered and empty. They should be filled. And\n what more proper than that Kriere and Lethla should fill them? But, he\n chewed his lip, that would need a bit of doing. And even then the cargo\n wouldn't be full. Still one more body to get; one hundred. And you\n never knew who it would be.\n\n\n He came out of the quick thoughts when he looped his long leg over\n the hole-rim, stepped up, faced Lethla in a cramped control room that\n was one glittering swirl of silver levers, audio-plates and visuals.\n Chronometers, clicking, told of the steady dropping toward the sun at a\n slow pace.\n\n\n Burnett set his teeth together, bone against bone. Help Kriere escape?\n See him safely to Venus, and then be freed? Sounded easy, wouldn't be\n hard. Venusians weren't blind with malice. Rice and he could come out\n alive; if they cooperated.\n\n\n But there were a lot of warriors sleeping on a lot of numbered shelves\n in the dim corridors of the long years. And their dead lips were\n stirring to life in Burnett's ears. Not so easily could they be ignored.\nYou may never catch up with the war again.\nThe last trip!\n\n\n Yes, this could be it. Capture Kriere and end the war. But what\n ridiculous fantasy was it made him believe he could actually do it?\n\n\n Two muscles moved on Burnett, one in each long cheek. The sag in his\n body vanished as he tautened his spine, flexed his lean-sinewed arms,\n wet thin lips.\n\n\n \"Now, where do you want this crate?\" he asked Lethla easily.\n\n\n Lethla exhaled softly. \"Cooperation. I like it. You're wise, Earthman.\"\n\n\n \"Very,\" said Burnett.\n\n\n He was thinking about three thousand eternal nights of young bodies\n being ripped, slaughtered, flung to the vacuum tides. Ten years of\n hating a job and hoping that some day there would be a last trip and it\n would all be over.\n\n\n Burnett laughed through his nose. Controls moved under his fingers like\n fluid; loved, caressed, tended by his familiar touching. Looking ahead,\n he squinted.\n\n\n \"There's your Ruler now, Lethla. Doing somersaults. Looks dead. A good\n trick.\"\n\n\n \"Cut power! We don't want to burn him!\"\nBurnett cut. Kriere's milky face floated dreamily into a visual-screen,\n eyes sealed, lips gaping, hands sagging, clutching emptily at the stars.\n\n\n \"We're about fifty miles from him, catching up.\" Burnett turned to\n Lethla with an intent scowl. Funny. This was the first and the last\n time anybody would ever board the\nConstellation\nalive. His stomach\n went flat, tautened with sudden weakening fear.\n\n\n If Kriere could be captured, that meant the end of the war, the end\n of shelves stacked with sleeping warriors, the end of this blind\n searching. Kriere, then, had to be taken aboard. After that—\n\n\n Kriere, the All-Mighty. At whose behest all space had quivered like\n a smitten gong for part of a century. Kriere, revolving in his neat,\n water-blue uniform, emblems shining gold, heat-gun tucked in glossy\n jet holster. With Kriere aboard, chances of overcoming him would be\n eliminated. Now: Rice and Burnett against Lethla. Lethla favored\n because of his gun.\n\n\n Kriere would make odds impossible.\n\n\n Something had to be done before Kriere came in.\n\n\n Lethla had to be yanked off guard. Shocked, bewildered,\n fooled—somehow. But—how?\n\n\n Burnett's jaw froze tight. He could feel a spot on his shoulder-blade\n where Lethla would send a bullet crashing into rib, sinew,\n artery—heart.\n\n\n There was a way. And there was a weapon. And the war would be over and\n this would be the last trip.\n\n\n Sweat covered his palms in a nervous smear.\n\n\n \"Steady, Rice,\" he said, matter of factly. With the rockets cut, there\n was too much silence, and his voice sounded guilty standing up alone in\n the center of that silence. \"Take controls, Rice. I'll manipulate the\n star-port.\"\n\n\n Burnett slipped from the control console. Rice replaced him grimly.\n Burnett strode to the next console of levers. That spot on his back\n kept aching like it was sear-branded X. For the place where the bullet\n sings and rips. And if you turn quick, catching it in the arm first,\n why—\n\n\n Kriere loomed bigger, a white spider delicately dancing on a web of\n stars. His eyes flicked open behind the glassite sheath, and saw the\nConstellation\n. Kriere smiled. His hands came up. He knew he was about\n to be rescued.\n\n\n Burnett smiled right back at him. What Kriere didn't know was that he\n was about to end a ten-years' war.\n\n\n There was only\none\nway of drawing Lethla off guard, and it had to be\n fast.\n\n\n Burnett jabbed a purple-topped stud. The star-port clashed open as\n it had done a thousand times before; but for the first time it was a\n good sound. And out of the star-port, at Sam Burnett's easily fingered\n directions, slid the long claw-like mechanism that picked up bodies\n from space.\n\n\n Lethla watched, intent and cold and quiet. The gun was cold and quiet,\n too.\n\n\n The claw glided toward Kriere without a sound, now, dream-like in its\n slowness.\n\n\n It reached Kriere.\n\n\n Burnett inhaled a deep breath.\n\n\n The metal claw cuddled Kriere in its shiny palm.\nLethla watched.\n\n\n He watched while Burnett exhaled, touched another lever and said: \"You\n know, Lethla, there's an old saying that only dead men come aboard the\nConstellation\n. I believe it.\"\nAnd the claw closed as Burnett spoke, closed slowly and certainly, all\n around Kriere, crushing him into a ridiculous posture of silence. There\n was blood running on the claw, and the only recognizable part was the\n head, which was carefully preserved for identification.\n\n\n That was the only way to draw Lethla off guard.\n\n\n Burnett spun about and leaped.\n\n\n The horror on Lethla's face didn't go away as he fired his gun.\n\n\n Rice came in fighting, too, but not before something like a red-hot\n ramrod stabbed Sam Burnett, catching him in the ribs, spinning him back\n like a drunken idiot to fall in a corner.\n\n\n Fists made blunt flesh noises. Lethla went down, weaponless and\n screaming. Rice kicked. After awhile Lethla quit screaming, and the\n room swam around in Burnett's eyes, and he closed them tight and\n started laughing.\n\n\n He didn't finish laughing for maybe ten minutes. He heard the retriever\n claws come inside, and the star-port grind shut.\n\n\n Out of the red darkness, Rice's voice came and then he could see Rice's\n young face over him. Burnett groaned.\n\n\n Rice said, \"Sam, you shouldn't have done it. You shouldn't have, Sam.\"\n\n\n \"To hell with it.\" Burnett winced, and fought to keep his eyes open.\n Something wet and sticky covered his chest. \"I said this was my last\n trip and I meant it. One way or the other, I'd have quit!\"\n\n\n \"This is the hard way—\"\n\n\n \"Maybe. I dunno. Kind of nice to think of all those kids who'll never\n have to come aboard the\nConstellation\n, though, Rice.\" His voice\n trailed off. \"You watch the shelves fill up and you never know who'll\n be next. Who'd have thought, four days ago—\"\n\n\n Something happened to his tongue so it felt like hard ice blocking his\n mouth. He had a lot more words to say, but only time to get a few of\n them out:\n\n\n \"Rice?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah, Sam?\"\n\n\n \"We haven't got a full cargo, boy.\"\n\n\n \"Full enough for me, sir.\"\n\n\n \"But still not full. If we went back to Center Base without filling\n the shelves, it wouldn't be right. Look there—number ninety-eight is\n Lethla—number ninety-nine is Kriere. Three thousand days of rolling\n this rocket, and not once come back without a bunch of the kids who\n want to sleep easy on the good green earth. Not right to be going back\n any way—but—the way—we used to—\"\n\n\n His voice got all full of fog. As thick as the fists of a dozen\n warriors. Rice was going away from him. Rice was standing still, and\n Burnett was lying down, not moving, but somehow Rice was going away a\n million miles.\n\n\n \"Ain't I one hell of a patriot, Rice?\"\n\n\n Then everything got dark except Rice's face. And that was starting to\n dissolve.\n\n\n Ninety-eight: Lethla. Ninety-nine: Kriere.\n\n\n He could still see Rice standing over him for a long time, breathing\n out and in. Down under the tables the blood-pumps pulsed and pulsed,\n thick and slow. Rice looked down at Burnett and then at the empty shelf\n at the far end of the room, and then back at Burnett again.\n\n\n And then he said softly:\n\n\n \"\nOne hundred.\n\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the Constellation’s main mission?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_1", "options": ["To engage in combat with the enemy", "To collect the dead bodies of soldiers and preserve them for burial on Earth", "To collect the dead bodies of soldiers so they can be reanimated using advanced technology", "To salvage materials from wrecked warships"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Burnett compared to a machine?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_2", "options": ["Because he has become numb to his emotions after witnessing so much death", "Because he has always been detached from his emotions", "Because he is renowned for his efficiency at his job", "Because he is part cyborg"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of following statements is not a true statement about the differences between Rice and Burnett?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_3", "options": ["Rice is patriotic, while Burnett is treasonous", "Rice is new to the job, while Burnett is experienced", "Rice is young, while Burnett is old", "Rice is idealistic, while Burnett is cynical"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Lethla survive the vacuum of space?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_4", "options": ["He is an alien who does not need air to survive the void", "He is a mechanical robot that can function without air", "He uses the blood-pumps to suck oxygen from nearby bodies", "His suit supplies him with oxygen, and his transparent mask allows him to breathe it"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why doesn’t the Constellation have weapons?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_5", "options": ["It is not allowed to have weapons because it has a medical mission", "It lost its weapons in a recent battle", "It had its weapons stolen by Kriere", "It is so far away from the war that having weapons is unnecessary"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are Lethla and Kriere compared to spiders?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_6", "options": ["To show how insignificant they are to Burnett", "To show that Burnett’s hatred of them is so intense that he dehumanizes them", "Because they have created a trap to ensnare Burnett and Rice", "Because they are an alien species with many limbs"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What item on board the ship does Burnett use an improvised weapon?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_7", "options": ["The blood-pumps", "The rockets", "His surgical tools", "The mechanical claw"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Lethla die?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_8", "options": ["Lethla shoots himself with his own gun", "Rice and Burnett expel him into the vacuum of space", "Burnett kills him with the mechanical claw", "Rice beats him to death"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following is not a reason why Burnett kills Kriere?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_9", "options": ["He views Kriere as being responsible for the war", "He needs more bodies to fill the ship’s morgue to fulfill his mission", "Kriere is the enemy’s leader, so Burnett thinks that killing him will stop the war", "He wants to kill Kriere before he gets aboard the ship because Lethla will be easier to take down by himself"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the narrator imply will happen after the story ends?", "question_unique_id": "63041_TFO74FFD_10", "options": ["Lethla and Kriere hijack the ship and make Rice and Burnett take it to Venus", "Rice will save Burnett and return to Earth in triumph", "Rice abandons Burnett in space because he is afraid of people finding out what Burnett has done", "Burnett’s body will be the hundredth body aboard the ship, allowing Rice to return to Earth"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/0/4/63041//63041-h//63041-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "30035", "set_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1006", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Off Course", "year": 1950, "author": "Reynolds, Mack", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "Shure and begorra, it was a great day for the Earth! The\n first envoy from another world was about to speak—that\n is, if he could forget that horse for a minute....\noff course\nBy Mack Reynolds\nIllustrated by Kelly Freas\nFirst on\n the scene were Larry\n Dermott and Tim Casey of the\n State Highway Patrol. They assumed\n they were witnessing the\n crash of a new type of Air Force\n plane and slipped and skidded desperately\n across the field to within\n thirty feet of the strange craft, only\n to discover that the landing had\n been made without accident.\n\n\n Patrolman Dermott shook his\n head. \"They're gettin' queerer looking\n every year. Get a load of it—no\n wheels, no propeller, no cockpit.\"\n\n\n They left the car and made their\n way toward the strange egg-shaped\n vessel.\n\n\n Tim Casey loosened his .38 in its\n holster and said, \"Sure, and I'm\n beginning to wonder if it's one of\n ours. No insignia and—\"\n\n\n A circular door slid open at that\n point and Dameri Tass stepped out,\n yawning. He spotted them, smiled\n and said, \"Glork.\"\n\n\n They gaped at him.\n\n\n \"Glork is right,\" Dermott swallowed.\n\n\n Tim Casey closed his mouth with\n an effort. \"Do you mind the color\n of his face?\" he blurted.\n\n\n \"How could I help it?\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass rubbed a blue-nailed\n pink hand down his purplish countenance\n and yawned again. \"Gorra\n manigan horp soratium,\" he said.\n\n\n Patrolman Dermott and Patrolman\n Casey shot stares at each other.\n \"'Tis double talk he's after givin'\n us,\" Casey said.\n\n\n Dameri Tass frowned. \"Harama?\"\n he asked.\n\n\n Larry Dermott pushed his cap to\n the back of his head. \"That doesn't\n sound like any language I've even\nheard\nabout.\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass grimaced, turned\n and reentered his spacecraft to\n emerge in half a minute with his\n hands full of contraption. He held\n a box-like arrangement under his\n left arm; in his right hand were two\n metal caps connected to the box\n by wires.\n\n\n While the patrolmen watched\n him, he set the box on the ground,\n twirled two dials and put one of the\n caps on his head. He offered the\n other to Larry Dermott; his desire\n was obvious.\n\n\n Trained to grasp a situation and\n immediately respond in manner best\n suited to protect the welfare of the\n people of New York State, Dermott\n cleared his throat and said, \"Tim,\n take over while I report.\"\n\n\n \"Hey!\" Casey protested, but his\n fellow minion had left.\n\n\n \"Mandaia,\" Dameri Tass told\n Casey, holding out the metal cap.\n\n\n \"Faith, an' do I look balmy?\"\n Casey told him. \"I wouldn't be\n puttin' that dingus on my head for\n all the colleens in Ireland.\"\n\n\n \"Mandaia,\" the stranger said\n impatiently.\n\n\n \"Bejasus,\" Casey snorted, \"ye\n can't—\"\n\n\n Dermott called from the car,\n \"Tim, the captain says to humor\n this guy. We're to keep him here\n until the officials arrive.\"\n\n\n Tim Casey closed his eyes and\n groaned. \"Humor him, he's after\n sayin'. Orders it is.\" He shouted\n back, \"Sure, an' did ye tell 'em he's\n in technicolor? Begorra, he looks\n like a man from Mars.\"\n\n\n \"That's what they think,\" Larry\n yelled, \"and the governor is on his\n way. We're to do everything possible\n short of violence to keep this\n character here. Humor him, Tim!\"\n\n\n \"Mandaia,\" Dameri Tass\n snapped, pushing the cap into\n Casey's reluctant hands.\n\n\n Muttering his protests, Casey\n lifted it gingerly and placed it on\n his head. Not feeling any immediate\n effect, he said, \"There, 'tis satisfied\n ye are now, I'm supposin'.\"\n\n\n The alien stooped down and\n flicked a switch on the little box.\n It hummed gently. Tim Casey suddenly\n shrieked and sat down on the\n stubble and grass of the field. \"Begorra,\"\n he yelped, \"I've been murthered!\"\n He tore the cap from\n his head.\n\n\n His companion came running,\n \"What's the matter, Tim?\" he\n shouted.\n\n\n Dameri Tass removed the metal\n cap from his own head. \"Sure, an'\n nothin' is after bein' the matter\n with him,\" he said. \"Evidently the\n bhoy has niver been a-wearin' of\n a kerit helmet afore. 'Twill hurt\n him not at all.\"\n\"You can\n talk!\" Dermott\n blurted, skidding to a stop.\n\n\n Dameri Tass shrugged. \"Faith, an'\n why not? As I was after sayin', I\n shared the kerit helmet with Tim\n Casey.\"\n\n\n Patrolman Dermott glared at him\n unbelievingly. \"You learned the\n language just by sticking that Rube\n Goldberg deal on Tim's head?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, an' why not?\"\n\n\n Dermott muttered, \"And with it\n he has to pick up the corniest\n brogue west of Dublin.\"\n\n\n Tim Casey got to his feet indignantly.\n \"I'm after resentin' that,\n Larry Dermott. Sure, an' the way\n we talk in Ireland is—\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass interrupted, pointing\n to a bedraggled horse that had\n made its way to within fifty feet of\n the vessel. \"Now what could that\n be after bein'?\"\n\n\n The patrolmen followed his stare.\n \"It's a horse. What else?\"\n\n\n \"A horse?\"\n\n\n Larry Dermott looked again, just\n to make sure. \"Yeah—not much of\n a horse, but a horse.\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass sighed ecstatically.\n \"And jist what is a horse, if I may\n be so bold as to be askin'?\"\n\n\n \"It's an animal you ride on.\"\n\n\n The alien tore his gaze from the\n animal to look his disbelief at the\n other. \"Are you after meanin' that\n you climb upon the crature's back\n and ride him? Faith now, quit your\n blarney.\"\n\n\n He looked at the horse again,\n then down at his equipment. \"Begorra,\"\n he muttered, \"I'll share the\n kerit helmet with the crature.\"\n\n\n \"Hey, hold it,\" Dermott said anxiously.\n He was beginning to feel\n like a character in a shaggy dog\n story.\n\n\n Interest in the horse was ended\n with the sudden arrival of a helicopter.\n It swooped down on the\n field and settled within twenty feet\n of the alien craft. Almost before it\n had touched, the door was flung\n open and the flying windmill disgorged\n two bestarred and efficient-looking\n Army officers.\n\n\n Casey and Dermott snapped them\n a salute.\n\n\n The senior general didn't take\n his eyes from the alien and the\n spacecraft as he spoke, and they\n bugged quite as effectively as had\n those of the patrolmen when they'd\n first arrived on the scene.\n\n\n \"I'm Major General Browning,\"\n he rapped. \"I want a police cordon\n thrown up around this, er, vessel.\n No newsmen, no sightseers, nobody\n without my permission. As soon as\n Army personnel arrives, we'll take\n over completely.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Larry Dermott said. \"I\n just got a report on the radio that\n the governor is on his way, sir. How\n about him?\"\n\n\n The general muttered something\n under his breath. Then, \"When the\n governor arrives, let me know;\n otherwise, nobody gets through!\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass said, \"Faith, and\n what goes on?\"\n\n\n The general's eyes bugged still\n further. \"\nHe talks!\n\" he accused.\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Dermott said. \"He\n had some kind of a machine. He\n put it over Tim's head and seconds\n later he could talk.\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense!\" the general snapped.\n\n\n Further discussion was interrupted\n by the screaming arrival of\n several motorcycle patrolmen followed\n by three heavily laden patrol\n cars. Overhead, pursuit planes\n zoomed in and began darting about\n nervously above the field.\n\n\n \"Sure, and it's quite a reception\n I'm after gettin',\" Dameri Tass said.\n He yawned. \"But what I'm wantin'\n is a chance to get some sleep. Faith,\n an' I've been awake for almost a\ndecal\n.\"\nDameri Tass\n was hurried, via\n helicopter, to Washington. There\n he disappeared for several days,\n being held incommunicado while\n White House, Pentagon, State Department\n and Congress tried to\n figure out just what to do with him.\n\n\n Never in the history of the planet\n had such a furor arisen. Thus far,\n no newspapermen had been allowed\n within speaking distance. Administration\n higher-ups were being subjected\n to a volcano of editorial heat\n but the longer the space alien was\n discussed the more they viewed with\n alarm the situation his arrival had\n precipitated. There were angles that\n hadn't at first been evident.\n\n\n Obviously he was from some civilization\n far beyond that of Earth's.\n That was the rub. No matter what\n he said, it would shake governments,\n possibly overthrow social systems,\n perhaps even destroy established religious\n concepts.\n\n\n But they couldn't keep him under\n wraps indefinitely.\n\n\n It was the United Nations that\n cracked the iron curtain. Their demands\n that the alien be heard before\n their body were too strong and\n had too much public opinion behind\n them to be ignored. The White\n House yielded and the date was set\n for the visitor to speak before the\n Assembly.\n\n\n Excitement, anticipation, blanketed\n the world. Shepherds in Sinkiang,\n multi-millionaires in Switzerland,\n fakirs in Pakistan, gauchos in\n the Argentine were raised to a\n zenith of expectation. Panhandlers\n debated the message to come with\n pedestrians; jinrikisha men argued\n it with their passengers; miners discussed\n it deep beneath the surface;\n pilots argued with their co-pilots\n thousands of feet above.\n\n\n It was the most universally\n awaited event of the ages.\n\n\n By the time the delegates from\n every nation, tribe, religion, class,\n color, and race had gathered in\n New York to receive the message\n from the stars, the majority of\n Earth had decided that Dameri\n Tass was the plenipotentiary of a\n super-civilization which had been\n viewing developments on this planet\n with misgivings. It was thought\n this other civilization had advanced\n greatly beyond Earth's and that the\n problems besetting us—social, economic,\n scientific—had been solved\n by the super-civilization. Obviously,\n then, Dameri Tass had come, an\n advisor from a benevolent and\n friendly people, to guide the world\n aright.\n\n\n And nine-tenths of the population\n of Earth stood ready and willing\n to be guided. The other tenth\n liked things as they were and were\n quite convinced that the space\n envoy would upset their applecarts.\nViljalmar Andersen\n , Secretary-General\n of the U.N., was to\n introduce the space emissary. \"Can\n you give me an idea at all of what\n he is like?\" he asked nervously.\n\n\n President McCord was as upset\n as the Dane. He shrugged in agitation.\n \"I know almost as little as\n you do.\"\n\n\n Sir Alfred Oxford protested, \"But\n my dear chap, you've had him for\n almost two weeks. Certainly in that\n time—\"\n\n\n The President snapped back,\n \"You probably won't believe this,\n but he's been asleep until yesterday.\n When he first arrived he told us he\n hadn't slept for a\ndecal\n, whatever\n that is; so we held off our discussion\n with him until morning. Well—he\n didn't awaken in the morning,\n nor the next. Six days later, fearing\n something was wrong we woke\n him.\"\n\n\n \"What happened?\" Sir Alfred\n asked.\n\n\n The President showed embarrassment.\n \"He used some rather ripe\n Irish profanity on us, rolled over,\n and went back to sleep.\"\n\n\n Viljalmar Andersen asked, \"Well,\n what happened yesterday?\"\n\n\n \"We actually haven't had time to\n question him. Among other things,\n there's been some controversy about\n whose jurisdiction he comes under.\n The State Department claims the\n Army shouldn't—\"\n\n\n The Secretary General sighed\n deeply. \"Just what\ndid\nhe do?\"\n\n\n \"The Secret Service reports he\n spent the day whistling Mother Machree\n and playing with his dog, cat\n and mouse.\"\n\n\n \"Dog, cat and mouse? I say!\"\n blurted Sir Alfred.\n\n\n The President was defensive. \"He\n had to have some occupation, and\n he seems to be particularly interested\n in our animal life. He wanted\n a horse but compromised for the\n others. I understand he insists all\n three of them come with him wherever\n he goes.\"\n\n\n \"I wish we knew what he was\n going to say,\" Andersen worried.\n\n\n \"Here he comes,\" said Sir Alfred.\n\n\n Surrounded by F.B.I. men,\n Dameri Tass was ushered to the\n speaker's stand. He had a kitten in\n his arms; a Scotty followed him.\n\n\n The alien frowned worriedly.\n \"Sure,\" he said, \"and what kin all\n this be? Is it some ordinance I've\n been after breakin'?\"\n\n\n McCord, Sir Alfred and Andersen\n hastened to reassure him and\n made him comfortable in a chair.\n\n\n Viljalmar Andersen faced the\n thousands in the audience and held\n up his hands, but it was ten minutes\n before he was able to quiet the\n cheering, stamping delegates from\n all Earth.\n\n\n Finally: \"Fellow Terrans, I shall\n not take your time for a lengthy\n introduction of the envoy from the\n stars. I will only say that, without\n doubt, this is the most important\n moment in the history of the human\n race. We will now hear from the\n first being to come to Earth from\n another world.\"\n\n\n He turned and gestured to Dameri\n Tass who hadn't been paying\n overmuch attention to the chairman\n in view of some dog and cat\n hostilities that had been developing\n about his feet.\n\n\n But now the alien's purplish face\n faded to a light blue. He stood and\n said hoarsely. \"Faith, an' what was\n that last you said?\"\n\n\n Viljalmar Andersen repeated,\n \"We will now hear from the first\n being ever to come to Earth from\n another world.\"\n\n\n The face of the alien went a\n lighter blue. \"Sure, an' ye wouldn't\n jist be frightenin' a body, would\n ye? You don't mean to tell me this\n planet isn't after bein' a member of\n the Galactic League?\"\n\n\n Andersen's face was blank. \"Galactic\n League?\"\n\n\n \"Cushlamachree,\" Dameri Tass\n moaned. \"I've gone and put me\n foot in it again. I'll be after getting\nkert\nfor this.\"\n\n\n Sir Alfred was on his feet. \"I\n don't understand! Do you mean you\n aren't an envoy from another\n planet?\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass held his head in his\n hands and groaned. \"An envoy, he's\n sayin', and meself only a second-rate\n collector of specimens for the Carthis\n zoo.\"\n\n\n He straightened and started off\n the speaker's stand. \"Sure, an' I\n must blast off immediately.\"\n\n\n Things were moving fast for\n President McCord but already an\n edge of relief was manifesting itself.\n Taking the initiative, he said, \"Of\n course, of course, if that is your\n desire.\" He signaled to the bodyguard\n who had accompanied the\n alien to the assemblage.\n\n\n A dull roar was beginning to\n emanate from the thousands gathered\n in the tremendous hall, murmuring,\n questioning, disbelieving.\nViljalmar Andersen\n felt that\n he must say something. He extended\n a detaining hand. \"Now you\n are here,\" he said urgently, \"even\n though by mistake, before you go\n can't you give us some brief word?\n Our world is in chaos. Many of us\n have lost faith. Perhaps ...\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass shook off the restraining\n hand. \"Do I look daft?\n Begorry, I should have been\n a-knowin' something was queer. All\n your weapons and your strange\n ideas. Faith, I wouldn't be surprised\n if ye hadn't yet established\n a planet-wide government. Sure,\n an' I'll go still further. Ye probably\n still have wars on this benighted\n world. No wonder it is ye\n haven't been invited to join the\n Galactic League an' take your place\n among the civilized planets.\"\n\n\n He hustled from the rostrum and\n made his way, still surrounded by\n guards, to the door by which he had\n entered. The dog and the cat trotted\n after, undismayed by the furor\n about them.\n\n\n They arrived about four hours\n later at the field on which he'd\n landed, and the alien from space\n hurried toward his craft, still muttering.\n He'd been accompanied by a\n general and by the President, but\n all the way he had refrained from\n speaking.\n\n\n He scurried from the car and\n toward the spacecraft.\n\n\n President McCord said, \"You've\n forgotten your pets. We would be\n glad if you would accept them as—\"\n\n\n The alien's face faded a light\n blue again. \"Faith, an' I'd almost\n forgotten,\" he said. \"If I'd taken\n a crature from this quarantined\n planet, my name'd be\nnork\n. Keep\n your dog and your kitty.\" He shook\n his head sadly and extracted a\n mouse from a pocket. \"An' this\n amazin' little crature as well.\"\n\n\n They followed him to the spacecraft.\n Just before entering, he spotted\n the bedraggled horse that had\n been present on his landing.\n\n\n A longing expression came over\n his highly colored face. \"Jist one\n thing,\" he said. \"Faith now, were\n they pullin' my leg when they said\n you were after ridin' on the back of\n those things?\"\n\n\n The President looked at the woebegone\n nag. \"It's a horse,\" he said,\n surprised. \"Man has been riding\n them for centuries.\"\n\n\n Dameri Tass shook his head.\n \"Sure, an' 'twould've been my\n makin' if I could've taken one back\n to Carthis.\" He entered his vessel.\n\n\n The others drew back, out of\n range of the expected blast, and\n watched, each with his own\n thoughts, as the first visitor from\n space hurriedly left Earth.\n... THE END\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nIf Worlds of Science Fiction\nJanuary 1954.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the tone of the story?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_1", "options": ["Foreboding", "Solemn", "Cynical", "Humorous"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have happened if Dermott had worn the helmet instead of Casey?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_2", "options": ["Dameri Tass would have turned violent and attacked them", "Dameri Tass would not have spoken with a thick Irish accent", "Dameri Tass would not have been interested in the horse", "Dameri Tass would have realized he had landed on an uncivilized planet"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is not a reason why Dermott makes Casey wear the helmet?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_3", "options": ["He wants to humor the alien while they wait for reinforcements", "He thinks Casey is the smarter of the two officers and will be able to dismantle the helmet", "He believes he is making the most efficient decision to protect the citizens of New York State", "He doesn’t want to wear it himself"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do most of the humans on Earth feel about Dameri Tass’s arrival?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_4", "options": ["They fear he wants to wipe out human civilization", "They are apathetic to the news of his arrival", "They are concerned that the Americans will kill him", "They are eager to learn from him"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Dameri Tass so interested in animals?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_5", "options": ["He wants to befriend the animals because he thinks they will help him find his way home", "His job is to collect animals from other planets for a zoo", "He is interested in animals because they are in Casey’s memories", "He hunts animals from other planets as food"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What misconception does Dameri Tass have about Earth that he learns is untrue?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_6", "options": ["He thinks that Earth is an uncivilized planet", "He thinks that humans have been trying to contact his planet", "He thinks that Earth is part of the Galactic League", "He thinks that horses are the most advanced beings on Earth"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would happen to Dameri Tass if he took Earth’s animals off planet?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_7", "options": ["He would lose his reputation", "He would be hailed as a hero", "President McCord would accuse him of stealing", "He would feel bad for the animals"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What causes Dameri Tass’s face’s color to change?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_8", "options": ["The color changes when he is speaking different languages", "The color changes to camouflage him", "The color changes based on the emotions he feels", "The color changes depending on if he is awake or asleep"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is ironic about Dameri Tass’s visit?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_9", "options": ["He came to Earth to collect animals, but he does not leave with any", "He has only come to the planet to inform them that Galactic League will be destroying it", "The humans hope he will tell them how to improve their civilization, but he came to the planet by mistake", "No one can understand what he is saying because he speaks in a heavy Irish accent"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is Dameri’s interest in horseback riding important?", "question_unique_id": "30035_C0HFCNPI_10", "options": ["It reveals how something that is mundane to one person can be astonishing to another", "It shows how primitive the alien’s technology is", "It shows that he is only interested in pack animals", "It reveals that he views horses as the reason why Earth is still uncivilized"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0008", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/0/0/3/30035//30035-h//30035-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61285", "set_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1006", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Desert and the Stars", "year": 1959, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "PS; Space colonies -- Fiction; Short stories; Retief (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Diplomats -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "THE DESERT AND THE STARS\nBY KEITH LAUMER\nThe Aga Kaga wanted peace—a\n\n piece of everything in sight!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, November 1962.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"I'm not at all sure,\" Under-Secretary Sternwheeler said, \"that I fully\n understand the necessity for your ... ah ... absenting yourself from\n your post of duty, Mr. Retief. Surely this matter could have been dealt\n with in the usual way—assuming any action is necessary.\"\n\n\n \"I had a sharp attack of writer's cramp, Mr. Secretary,\" Retief said.\n \"So I thought I'd better come along in person—just to be sure I was\n positive of making my point.\"\n\n\n \"Eh?\"\n\n\n \"Why, ah, there were a number of dispatches,\" Deputy Under-Secretary\n Magnan put in. \"Unfortunately, this being end-of-the-fiscal-year time,\n we found ourselves quite inundated with reports. Reports, reports,\n reports—\"\n\n\n \"Not criticizing the reporting system, are you, Mr. Magnan?\" the\n Under-Secretary barked.\n\n\n \"Gracious, no,\" Magnan said. \"I love reports.\"\n\n\n \"It seems nobody's told the Aga Kagans about fiscal years,\" Retief\n said. \"They're going right ahead with their program of land-grabbing on\n Flamme. So far, I've persuaded the Boyars that this is a matter for the\n Corps, and not to take matters into their own hands.\"\n\n\n The Under-Secretary nodded. \"Quite right. Carry on along the same\n lines. Now, if there's nothing further—\"\n\n\n \"Thank you, Mr. Secretary,\" Magnan said, rising. \"We certainly\n appreciate your guidance.\"\n\n\n \"There is a little something further,\" said Retief, sitting solidly in\n his chair. \"What's the Corps going to do about the Aga Kagans?\"\n\n\n The Under-Secretary turned a liverish eye on Retief. \"As Minister\n to Flamme, you should know that the function of a diplomatic\n representative is merely to ... what shall I say...?\"\n\n\n \"String them along?\" Magnan suggested.\n\n\n \"An unfortunate choice of phrase,\" the Under-Secretary said. \"However,\n it embodies certain realities of Galactic politics. The Corps must\n concern itself with matters of broad policy.\"\n\n\n \"Sixty years ago the Corps was encouraging the Boyars to settle\n Flamme,\" Retief said. \"They were assured of Corps support.\"\n\n\n \"I don't believe you'll find that in writing,\" said the Under-Secretary\n blandly. \"In any event, that was sixty years ago. At that time a\n foothold against Neo-Concordiatist elements was deemed desirable. Now\n the situation has changed.\"\n\n\n \"The Boyars have spent sixty years terraforming Flamme,\" Retief said.\n \"They've cleared jungle, descummed the seas, irrigated deserts, set out\n forests. They've just about reached the point where they can begin to\n enjoy it. The Aga Kagans have picked this as a good time to move in.\n They've landed thirty detachments of 'fishermen'—complete with armored\n trawlers mounting 40 mm infinite repeaters—and another two dozen\n parties of 'homesteaders'—all male and toting rocket launchers.\"\n\n\n \"Surely there's land enough on the world to afford space to both\n groups,\" the Under-Secretary said. \"A spirit of co-operation—\"\n\"The Boyars needed some co-operation sixty years ago,\" Retief said.\n \"They tried to get the Aga Kagans to join in and help them beat\n back some of the saurian wild life that liked to graze on people.\n The Corps didn't like the idea. They wanted to see an undisputed\n anti-Concordiatist enclave. The Aga Kagans didn't want to play, either.\n But now that the world is tamed, they're moving in.\"\n\n\n \"The exigencies of diplomacy require a flexible policy—\"\n\n\n \"I want a firm assurance of Corps support to take back to Flamme,\"\n Retief said. \"The Boyars are a little naive. They don't understand\n diplomatic triple-speak. They just want to hold onto the homes they've\n made out of a wasteland.\"\n\n\n \"I'm warning you, Retief!\" the Under-Secretary snapped, leaning\n forward, wattles quivering. \"Corps policy with regard to Flamme\n includes no inflammatory actions based on outmoded concepts. The Boyars\n will have to accommodate themselves to the situation!\"\n\n\n \"That's what I'm afraid of,\" Retief said. \"They're not going to sit\n still and watch it happen. If I don't take back concrete evidence of\n Corps backing, we're going to have a nice hot little shooting war on\n our hands.\"\n\n\n The Under-Secretary pushed out his lips and drummed his fingers on the\n desk.\n\n\n \"Confounded hot-heads,\" he muttered. \"Very well, Retief. I'll go along\n to the extent of a Note; but positively no further.\"\n\n\n \"A Note? I was thinking of something more like a squadron of Corps\n Peace Enforcers running through a few routine maneuvers off Flamme.\"\n\n\n \"Out of the question. A stiffly worded Protest Note is the best I can\n do. That's final.\"\n\n\n Back in the corridor, Magnan turned to Retief. \"When will you learn\n not to argue with Under-Secretaries? One would think you actively\n disliked the idea of ever receiving a promotion. I was astonished\n at the Under-Secretary's restraint. Frankly, I was stunned when he\n actually agreed to a Note. I, of course, will have to draft it.\" Magnan\n pulled at his lower lip thoughtfully. \"Now, I wonder, should I view\n with deep concern an act of open aggression, or merely point out an\n apparent violation of technicalities....\"\n\n\n \"Don't bother,\" Retief said. \"I have a draft all ready to go.\"\n\n\n \"But how—?\"\n\n\n \"I had a feeling I'd get paper instead of action,\" Retief said. \"I\n thought I'd save a little time all around.\"\n\n\n \"At times, your cynicism borders on impudence.\"\n\n\n \"At other times, it borders on disgust. Now, if you'll run the Note\n through for signature, I'll try to catch the six o'clock shuttle.\"\n\n\n \"Leaving so soon? There's an important reception tonight. Some of our\n biggest names will be there. An excellent opportunity for you to join\n in the diplomatic give-and-take.\"\n\n\n \"No, thanks. I want to get back to Flamme and join in something mild,\n like a dinosaur hunt.\"\n\n\n \"When you get there,\" said Magnan, \"I hope you'll make it quite clear\n that this matter is to be settled without violence.\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry. I'll keep the peace, if I have to start a war to do it.\"\nOn the broad verandah at Government House, Retief settled himself\n comfortably in a lounge chair. He accepted a tall glass from a\n white-jacketed waiter and regarded the flamboyant Flamme sunset, a\n gorgeous blaze of vermillion and purple that reflected from a still\n lake, tinged the broad lawn with color, silhouetted tall poplars among\n flower beds.\n\n\n \"You've done great things here in sixty years, Georges,\" said Retief.\n \"Not that natural geological processes wouldn't have produced the same\n results, given a couple of hundred million years.\"\n\n\n \"Don't belabor the point,\" the Boyar Chef d'Regime said. \"Since we seem\n to be on the verge of losing it.\"\n\n\n \"You're forgetting the Note.\"\n\n\n \"A Note,\" Georges said, waving his cigar. \"What the purple polluted\n hell is a Note supposed to do? I've got Aga Kagan claim-jumpers camped\n in the middle of what used to be a fine stand of barley, cooking\n sheep's brains over dung fires not ten miles from Government House—and\n upwind at that.\"\n\n\n \"Say, if that's the same barley you distill your whiskey from, I'd\n call that a first-class atrocity.\"\n\n\n \"Retief, on your say-so, I've kept my boys on a short leash. They've\n put up with plenty. Last week, while you were away, these barbarians\n sailed that flotilla of armor-plated junks right through the middle of\n one of our best oyster breeding beds. It was all I could do to keep a\n bunch of our men from going out in private helis and blasting 'em out\n of the water.\"\n\n\n \"That wouldn't have been good for the oysters, either.\"\n\n\n \"That's what I told 'em. I also said you'd be back here in a few days\n with something from Corps HQ. When I tell 'em all we've got is a piece\n of paper, that'll be the end. There's a strong vigilante organization\n here that's been outfitting for the last four weeks. If I hadn't held\n them back with assurances that the CDT would step in and take care of\n this invasion, they would have hit them before now.\"\n\"That would have been a mistake,\" said Retief. \"The Aga Kagans are\n tough customers. They're active on half a dozen worlds at the moment.\n They've been building up for this push for the last five years. A\n show of resistance by you Boyars without Corps backing would be an\n invitation to slaughter—with the excuse that you started it.\"\n\n\n \"So what are we going to do? Sit here and watch these goat-herders take\n over our farms and fisheries?\"\n\n\n \"Those goat-herders aren't all they seem. They've got a first-class\n modern navy.\"\n\n\n \"I've seen 'em. They camp in goat-skin tents, gallop around on\n animal-back, wear dresses down to their ankles—\"\n\n\n \"The 'goat-skin' tents are a high-polymer plastic, made in the same\n factory that turns out those long flowing bullet-proof robes you\n mention. The animals are just for show. Back home they use helis and\n ground cars of the most modern design.\"\n\n\n The Chef d'Regime chewed his cigar.\n\n\n \"Why the masquerade?\"\n\n\n \"Something to do with internal policies, I suppose.\"\n\n\n \"So we sit tight and watch 'em take our world away from us. That's what\n I get for playing along with you, Retief. We should have clobbered\n these monkeys as soon as they set foot on our world.\"\n\n\n \"Slow down, I haven't finished yet. There's still the Note.\"\n\n\n \"I've got plenty of paper already. Rolls and rolls of it.\"\n\n\n \"Give diplomatic processes a chance,\" said Retief. \"The Note hasn't\n even been delivered yet. Who knows? We may get surprising results.\"\n\n\n \"If you expect me to supply a runner for the purpose, you're out of\n luck. From what I hear, he's likely to come back with his ears stuffed\n in his hip pocket.\"\n\n\n \"I'll deliver the Note personally,\" Retief said. \"I could use a couple\n of escorts—preferably strong-arm lads.\"\n\n\n The Chef d'Regime frowned, blew out a cloud of smoke. \"I wasn't kidding\n about these Aga Kagans,\" he said. \"I hear they have some nasty habits.\n I don't want to see you operated on with the same knives they use to\n skin out the goats.\"\n\n\n \"I'd be against that myself. Still, the mail must go through.\"\n\n\n \"Strong-arm lads, eh? What have you got in mind, Retief?\"\n\n\n \"A little muscle in the background is an old diplomatic custom,\" Retief\n said.\n\n\n The Chef d'Regime stubbed out his cigar thoughtfully. \"I used to be a\n pretty fair elbow-wrestler myself,\" he said. \"Suppose I go along...?\"\n\n\n \"That,\" said Retief, \"should lend just the right note of solidarity to\n our little delegation.\" He hitched his chair closer. \"Now, depending on\n what we run into, here's how we'll play it....\"\nII\n\n\n Eight miles into the rolling granite hills west of the capital, a\n black-painted official air-car flying the twin flags of Chief of State\n and Terrestrial Minister skimmed along a foot above a pot-holed road.\n Slumped in the padded seat, the Boyar Chef d'Regime waved his cigar\n glumly at the surrounding hills.\n\n\n \"Fifty years ago this was bare rock,\" he said. \"We've bred special\n strains of bacteria here to break down the formations into soil, and we\n followed up with a program of broad-spectrum fertilization. We planned\n to put the whole area into crops by next year. Now it looks like the\n goats will get it.\"\n\n\n \"Will that scrubland support a crop?\" Retief said, eyeing the\n lichen-covered knolls.\n\n\n \"Sure. We start with legumes and follow up with cereals. Wait until you\n see this next section. It's an old flood plain, came into production\n thirty years ago. One of our finest—\"\n\n\n The air-car topped a rise. The Chef dropped his cigar and half rose,\n with a hoarse yell. A herd of scraggly goats tossed their heads among a\n stand of ripe grain. The car pulled to a stop. Retief held the Boyar's\n arm.\n\n\n \"Keep calm, Georges,\" he said. \"Remember, we're on a diplomatic\n mission. It wouldn't do to come to the conference table smelling of\n goats.\"\n\n\n \"Let me at 'em!\" Georges roared. \"I'll throttle 'em with my bare hands!\"\n\n\n A bearded goat eyed the Boyar Chef sardonically, jaw working. \"Look at\n that long-nosed son!\" The goat gave a derisive bleat and took another\n mouthful of ripe grain.\n\n\n \"Did you see that?\" Georges yelled. \"They've trained the son of a—\"\n\n\n \"Chin up, Georges,\" Retief said. \"We'll take up the goat problem along\n with the rest.\"\n\n\n \"I'll murder 'em!\"\n\n\n \"Hold it, Georges. Look over there.\"\n\n\n A hundred yards away, a trio of brown-cloaked horsemen topped a rise,\n paused dramatically against the cloudless pale sky, then galloped\n down the slope toward the car, rifles bobbing at their backs, cloaks\n billowing out behind. Side by side they rode, through the brown-golden\n grain, cutting three narrow swaths that ran in a straight sweep from\n the ridge to the air-car where Retief and the Chef d'Regime hovered,\n waiting.\n\n\n Georges scrambled for the side of the car. \"Just wait 'til I get my\n hands on him!\"\n\n\n Retief pulled him back. \"Sit tight and look pleased, Georges. Never\n give the opposition a hint of your true feelings. Pretend you're a goat\n lover—and hand me one of your cigars.\"\n\n\n The three horsemen pulled up in a churn of chaff and a clatter of\n pebbles. Georges coughed, batting a hand at the settling dust. Retief\n peeled the cigar unhurriedly, sniffed, at it and thumbed it alight. He\n drew at it, puffed out a cloud of smoke and glanced casually at the\n trio of Aga Kagan cavaliers.\n\n\n \"Peace be with you,\" he intoned in accent-free Kagan. \"May your shadows\n never grow less.\"\nThe leader of the three, a hawk-faced man with a heavy beard,\n unlimbered his rifle. He fingered it, frowning ferociously.\n\n\n \"Have no fear,\" Retief said, smiling graciously. \"He who comes as a\n guest enjoys perfect safety.\"\n\n\n A smooth-faced member of the threesome barked an oath and leveled his\n rifle at Retief.\n\n\n \"Youth is the steed of folly,\" Retief said. \"Take care that the\n beardless one does not disgrace his house.\"\n\n\n The leader whirled on the youth and snarled an order. He lowered the\n rifle, muttering. Blackbeard turned back to Retief.\n\n\n \"Begone, interlopers,\" he said. \"You disturb the goats.\"\n\n\n \"Provision is not taken to the houses of the generous,\" Retief said.\n \"May the creatures dine well ere they move on.\"\n\n\n \"Hah! The goats of the Aga Kaga graze on the lands of the Aga Kaga.\"\n The leader edged his horse close, eyed Retief fiercely. \"We welcome no\n intruders on our lands.\"\n\n\n \"To praise a man for what he does not possess is to make him appear\n foolish,\" Retief said. \"These are the lands of the Boyars. But enough\n of these pleasantries. We seek audience with your ruler.\"\n\n\n \"You may address me as 'Exalted One',\" the leader said. \"Now dismount\n from that steed of Shaitan.\"\n\n\n \"It is written, if you need anything from a dog, call him 'sir',\"\n Retief said. \"I must decline to impute canine ancestry to a guest. Now\n you may conduct us to your headquarters.\"\n\n\n \"Enough of your insolence!\" The bearded man cocked his rifle. \"I could\n blow your heads off!\"\n\n\n \"The hen has feathers, but it does not fly,\" Retief said. \"We have\n asked for escort. A slave must be beaten with a stick; for a free man,\n a hint is enough.\"\n\n\n \"You mock me, pale one. I warn you—\"\n\n\n \"Only love makes me weep,\" Retief said. \"I laugh at hatred.\"\n\n\n \"Get out of the car!\"\n\n\n Retief puffed at his cigar, eyeing the Aga Kagan cheerfully. The youth\n in the rear moved forward, teeth bared.\n\n\n \"Never give in to the fool, lest he say, 'He fears me,'\" Retief said.\n\n\n \"I cannot restrain my men in the face of your insults,\" the bearded Aga\n Kagan roared. \"These hens of mine have feathers—and talons as well!\"\n\n\n \"When God would destroy an ant, he gives him wings,\" Retief said.\n \"Distress in misfortune is another misfortune.\"\n\n\n The bearded man's face grew purple.\n\n\n Retief dribbled the ash from his cigar over the side of the car.\n\n\n \"Now I think we'd better be getting on,\" he said briskly. \"I've enjoyed\n our chat, but we do have business to attend to.\"\n\n\n The bearded leader laughed shortly. \"Does the condemned man beg for the\n axe?\" he enquired rhetorically. \"You shall visit the Aga Kaga, then.\n Move on! And make no attempt to escape, else my gun will speak you a\n brief farewell.\"\n\n\n The horsemen glowered, then, at a word from the leader, took positions\n around the car. Georges started the vehicle forward, following the\n leading rider. Retief leaned back and let out a long sigh.\n\n\n \"That was close,\" he said. \"I was about out of proverbs.\"\n\n\n \"You sound as though you'd brought off a coup,\" Georges said. \"From the\n expression on the whiskery one's face, we're in for trouble. What was\n he saying?\"\n\n\n \"Just a routine exchange of bluffs,\" Retief said. \"Now when we get\n there, remember to make your flattery sound like insults and your\n insults sound like flattery, and you'll be all right.\"\n\n\n \"These birds are armed. And they don't like strangers,\" Georges said.\n \"Maybe I should have boned up on their habits before I joined this\n expedition.\"\n\n\n \"Just stick to the plan,\" Retief said. \"And remember: a handful of luck\n is better than a camel-load of learning.\"\nThe air car followed the escort down a long slope to a dry river bed\n and across it, through a barren stretch of shifting sand to a green\n oasis set with canopies.\n\n\n The armed escort motioned the car to a halt before an immense tent of\n glistening black. Before the tent armed men lounged under a pennant\n bearing a lion\ncouchant\nin crimson on a field verte.\n\n\n \"Get out,\" Blackbeard ordered. The guards eyed the visitors, their\n drawn sabers catching sunlight. Retief and Georges stepped from the\n car onto rich rugs spread on the grass. They followed the ferocious\n gesture of the bearded man through the opening into a perfumed interior\n of luminous shadows. A heavy odor of incense hung in the air, and the\n strumming of stringed instruments laid a muted pattern of sound behind\n the decorations of gold and blue, silver and green. At the far end of\n the room, among a bevy of female slaves, a large and resplendently clad\n man with blue-black hair and a clean-shaven chin popped a grape into\n his mouth. He wiped his fingers negligently on a wisp of silk offered\n by a handmaiden, belched loudly and looked the callers over.\n\n\n Blackbeard cleared his throat. \"Down on your faces in the presence of\n the Exalted One, the Aga Kaga, ruler of East and West.\"\n\n\n \"Sorry,\" Retief said firmly. \"My hay-fever, you know.\"\n\n\n The reclining giant waved a hand languidly.\n\n\n \"Never mind the formalities,\" he said. \"Approach.\"\n\n\n Retief and Georges crossed the thick rugs. A cold draft blew toward\n them. The reclining man sneezed violently, wiped his nose on another\n silken scarf and held up a hand.\n\n\n \"Night and the horses and the desert know me,\" he said in resonant\n tones. \"Also the sword and the guest and paper and pen—\" He\n paused, wrinkled his nose and sneezed again. \"Turn off that damned\n air-conditioner,\" he snapped.\n\n\n He settled himself and motioned the bearded man to him. The two\n exchanged muted remarks. Then the bearded man stepped back, ducked his\n head and withdrew to the rear.\n\n\n \"Excellency,\" Retief said, \"I have the honor to present M. Georges\n Duror, Chef d'Regime of the Planetary government.\"\n\n\n \"Planetary government?\" The Aga Kaga spat grape seeds on the rug. \"My\n men have observed a few squatters along the shore. If they're in\n distress, I'll see about a distribution of goat-meat.\"\n\n\n \"It is the punishment of the envious to grieve at anothers' plenty,\"\n Retief said. \"No goat-meat will be required.\"\n\n\n \"Ralph told me you talk like a page out of Mustapha ben Abdallah Katib\n Jelebi,\" the Aga Kaga said. \"I know a few old sayings myself. For\n example, 'A Bedouin is only cheated once.'\"\n\n\n \"We have no such intentions, Excellency,\" Retief said. \"Is it not\n written, 'Have no faith in the Prince whose minister cheats you'?\"\n\n\n \"I've had some unhappy experiences with strangers,\" the Aga Kaga said.\n \"It is written in the sands that all strangers are kin. Still, he who\n visits rarely is a welcome guest. Be seated.\"\nIII\n\n\n Handmaidens brought cushions, giggled and fled. Retief and Georges\n settled themselves comfortably. The Aga Kaga eyed them in silence.\n\"We have come to bear tidings from the Corps Diplomatique\n Terrestrienne,\" Retief said solemnly. A perfumed slave girl offered\n grapes.\n\n\n \"Modest ignorance is better than boastful knowledge,\" the Aga Kaga\n said. \"What brings the CDT into the picture?\"\n\n\n \"The essay of the drunkard will be read in the tavern,\" Retief said.\n \"Whereas the words of kings....\"\n\n\n \"Very well, I concede the point.\" The Aga Kaga waved a hand at the\n serving maids. \"Depart, my dears. Attend me later. You too, Ralph.\n These are mere diplomats. They are men of words, not deeds.\"\n\n\n The bearded man glared and departed. The girls hurried after him.\n\n\n \"Now,\" the Aga Kaga said. \"Let's drop the wisdom of the ages and\n get down to the issues. Not that I don't admire your repertoire of\n platitudes. How do you remember them all?\"\n\n\n \"Diplomats and other liars require good memories,\" said Retief. \"But\n as you point out, small wisdom to small minds. I'm here to effect a\n settlement of certain differences between yourself and the planetary\n authorities. I have here a Note, which I'm conveying on behalf of the\n Sector Under-Secretary. With your permission, I'll read it.\"\n\n\n \"Go ahead.\" The Aga Kaga kicked a couple of cushions onto the floor,\n eased a bottle from under the couch and reached for glasses.\n\n\n \"The Under-Secretary for Sector Affairs presents his compliments to his\n Excellency, the Aga Kaga of the Aga Kaga, Primary Potentate, Hereditary\n Sheik, Emir of the—\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes. Skip the titles.\"\n\n\n Retief flipped over two pages.\n\n\n \"... and with reference to the recent relocation of persons under the\n jurisdiction of his Excellency, has the honor to point out that the\n territories now under settlement comprise a portion of that area,\n hereinafter designated as Sub-sector Alpha, which, under terms of\n the Agreement entered into by his Excellency's predecessor, and as\n referenced in Sector Ministry's Notes numbers G-175846573957-b and\n X-7584736 c-1, with particular pertinence to that body designated in\n the Revised Galactic Catalogue, Tenth Edition, as amended, Volume\n Nine, reel 43, as 54 Cygni Alpha, otherwise referred to hereinafter as\n Flamme—\"\n\n\n \"Come to the point,\" the Aga Kaga cut in. \"You're here to lodge a\n complaint that I'm invading territories to which someone else lays\n claim, is that it?\" He smiled broadly, offered dope-sticks and lit one.\n \"Well, I've been expecting a call. After all, it's what you gentlemen\n are paid for. Cheers.\"\n\n\n \"Your Excellency has a lucid way of putting things,\" Retief said.\n\n\n \"Call me Stanley,\" the Aga Kaga said. \"The other routine is just to\n please some of the old fools—I mean the more conservative members\n of my government. They're still gnawing their beards and kicking\n themselves because their ancestors dropped science in favor of alchemy\n and got themselves stranded in a cultural dead end. This charade is\n supposed to prove they were right all along. However, I've no time\n to waste in neurotic compensations. I have places to go and deeds to\n accomplish.\"\n\n\n \"At first glance,\" Retief said, \"it looks as though the places are\n already occupied, and the deeds are illegal.\"\nThe Aga Kaga guffawed. \"For a diplomat, you speak plainly, Retief. Have\n another drink.\" He poured, eyeing Georges. \"What of M. Duror? How does\n he feel about it?\"\n\n\n Georges took a thoughtful swallow of whiskey. \"Not bad,\" he said. \"But\n not quite good enough to cover the odor of goats.\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga snorted. \"I thought the goats were overdoing it a bit\n myself,\" he said. \"Still, the graybeards insisted. And I need their\n support.\"\n\n\n \"Also,\" Georges said distinctly, \"I think you're soft. You lie around\n letting women wait on you, while your betters are out doing an honest\n day's work.\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga looked startled. \"Soft? I can tie a knot in an iron bar\n as big as your thumb.\" He popped a grape into his mouth. \"As for the\n rest, your pious views about the virtues of hard labor are as childish\n as my advisors' faith in the advantages of primitive plumbing. As for\n myself, I am a realist. If two monkeys want the same banana, in the end\n one will have it, and the other will cry morality. The days of my years\n are numbered, praise be to God. While they last, I hope to eat well,\n hunt well, fight well and take my share of pleasure. I leave to others\n the arid satisfactions of self-denial and other perversions.\"\n\n\n \"You admit you're here to grab our land, then,\" Georges said. \"That's\n the damnedest piece of bare-faced aggression—\"\n\n\n \"Ah, ah!\" The Aga Kaga held up a hand. \"Watch your vocabulary, my\n dear sir. I'm sure that 'justifiable yearnings for territorial\n self-realization' would be more appropriate to the situation. Or\n possibly 'legitimate aspirations, for self-determination of formerly\n exploited peoples' might fit the case. Aggression is, by definition,\n an activity carried on only by those who have inherited the mantle of\n Colonial Imperialism.\"\n\n\n \"Imperialism! Why, you Aga Kagans have been the most notorious\n planet-grabbers in Sector history, you—you—\"\n\n\n \"Call me Stanley.\" The Aga Kaga munched a grape. \"I merely face the\n realities of popular folk-lore. Let's be pragmatic; it's a matter of\n historical association. Some people can grab land and pass it off\n lightly as a moral duty; others are dubbed imperialist merely for\n holding onto their own. Unfair, you say. But that's life, my friends.\n And I shall continue to take every advantage of it.\"\n\n\n \"We'll fight you!\" Georges bellowed. He took another gulp of whiskey\n and slammed the glass down. \"You won't take this world without a\n struggle!\"\n\n\n \"Another?\" the Aga Kaga said, offering the bottle. Georges glowered as\n his glass was filled. The Aga Kaga held the glass up to the light.\n\n\n \"Excellent color, don't you agree?\" He turned his eyes on Georges.\n\n\n \"It's pointless to resist,\" he said. \"We have you outgunned and\n outmanned. Your small nation has no chance against us. But we're\n prepared to be generous. You may continue to occupy such areas as we do\n not immediately require until such time as you're able to make other\n arrangements.\"\n\n\n \"And by the time we've got a crop growing out of what was bare rock,\n you'll be ready to move in,\" the Boyar Chef d'Regime snapped. \"But\n you'll find that we aren't alone!\"\n\"Quite alone,\" the Aga said. He nodded sagely. \"Yes, one need but read\n the lesson of history. The Corps Diplomatique will make expostulatory\n noises, but it will accept the\nfait accompli\n. You, my dear sir, are\n but a very small nibble. We won't make the mistake of excessive greed.\n We shall inch our way to empire—and those who stand in our way shall\n be dubbed warmongers.\"\n\n\n \"I see you're quite a student of history, Stanley,\" Retief said. \"I\n wonder if you recall the eventual fate of most of the would-be empire\n nibblers of the past?\"\n\n\n \"Ah, but they grew incautious. They went too far, too fast.\"\n\n\n \"The confounded impudence,\" Georges rasped. \"Tells us to our face what\n he has in mind!\"\n\n\n \"An ancient and honorable custom, from the time of\nMein Kampf\nand\n the\nCommunist Manifesto\nthrough the\nPorcelain Wall\nof Leung. Such\n declarations have a legendary quality. It's traditional that they're\n never taken at face value.\"\n\n\n \"But always,\" Retief said, \"there was a critical point at which the man\n on horseback could have been pulled from the saddle.\"\n\n\n \"\nCould\nhave been,\" the Aga Kaga chuckled. He finished the grapes and\n began peeling an orange. \"But they never were. Hitler could have been\n stopped by the Czech Air Force in 1938; Stalin was at the mercy of the\n primitive atomics of the west in 1946; Leung was grossly over-extended\n at Rangoon. But the onus of that historic role could not be overcome.\n It has been the fate of your spiritual forebears to carve civilization\n from the wilderness and then, amid tearing of garments and the heaping\n of ashes of self-accusation on your own confused heads, to withdraw,\n leaving the spoils for local political opportunists and mob leaders,\n clothed in the mystical virtue of native birth. Have a banana.\"\n\n\n \"You're stretching your analogy a little too far,\" Retief said. \"You're\n banking on the inaction of the Corps. You could be wrong.\"\n\n\n \"I shall know when to stop,\" the Aga Kaga said.\n\n\n \"Tell me, Stanley,\" Retief said, rising. \"Are we quite private here?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, perfectly so,\" the Aga Kaga said. \"None would dare to intrude in\n my council.\" He cocked an eyebrow at Retief. \"You have a proposal to\n make in confidence? But what of our dear friend Georges? One would not\n like to see him disillusioned.\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry about Georges. He's a realist, like you. He's prepared to\n deal in facts. Hard facts, in this case.\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga nodded thoughtfully. \"What are you getting at?\"\n\n\n \"You're basing your plan of action on the certainty that the Corps will\n sit by, wringing its hands, while you embark on a career of planetary\n piracy.\"\n\n\n \"Isn't it the custom?\" the Aga Kaga smiled complacently.\n\n\n \"I have news for you, Stanley. In this instance, neck-wringing seems\n more in order than hand-wringing.\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga frowned. \"Your manner—\"\n\n\n \"Never mind our manners!\" Georges blurted, standing. \"We don't need any\n lessons from goat-herding land-thieves!\"\n\n\n The Aga Kaga's face darkened. \"You dare to speak thus to me, pig of a\n muck-grubber!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "How do the Boyars view the Aga Kagans?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_1", "options": ["They view them as allies in colonizing Flamme", "They view them as invading opportunists", "They view them as old neighbors whom they dislike but tolerate", "They view them as a threat due to their highly advanced technology"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which is the best adjective to describe the Corp's approach to governance of the planet?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_2", "options": ["Erratic", "Aggressive", "Bureaucratic", "Efficient"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the Boyar's ultimate goal for Flamme?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_3", "options": ["To destroy the planet before the Aga Kagans can take it over", "To transform the planet into a place that can support life and grow crops", "To cede control of the planet to the Aga Kagans", "To strip the planet of its natural resources via mining"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "According to Retief what would happen if the Corps did not get involved in the dispute between the Boyars and the Aga Kagans?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_4", "options": ["The Aga Kagans would leave Flamme to find a better planet", "The Boyars would create a treaty with the Aga Kagans without the Corps' approval", "The Aga Kagans would enslave the Boyars", "The Boyars and the Aga Kagans would go to war"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Georges feel about the Aga Kagans?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_5", "options": ["He thinks they are uncivilized thieves", "He thinks they are a primitive people who are easily manipulated", "He respects them for their advanced technology and wisdom", "He feels that they are misunderstood heroes"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Retief want Georges to accompany him to see the leader of the Aga Kagans?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_6", "options": ["He thinks that Georges' terraforming technology will appeal to the Aga Kagans' economic interests", "He thinks that Georges will remind the Aga Kagan that if they don't cooperate, there will be consequences", "He thinks that Georges will be able to distract them while he destroys the Aga Kagans' technology", "He thinks that Georges will win them over with his charisma"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the terraforming technology work?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_7", "options": ["It instantly transforms bare planets into planets that can support life", "It infects organisms on the planet with a virus that changes their DNA to make them more suitable for human consumption", "It can only work on land that has previously contained life", "It follows ecological processes to slowly transform barren land into arable land over time"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is not true about Retief?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_8", "options": ["He understands the Aga Kagan's language", "He understands the Aga Kagan's culture well", "He does not believe that diplomacy is effective", "He is familiar with the Aga Kagan's custom of speaking in proverbs"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0032", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the style of the Corps' note to the Aga Kaga?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_9", "options": ["Direct", "Bellicose", "Informal", "Verbose"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the Aga Kaga reveal as his people's strategy for taking over planet?", "question_unique_id": "61285_D8AIH84L_10", "options": ["They will win over the current residents of the planets using propaganda", "They will abolish the Corps so they can take over planets without the Corps' interference", "They will occupy a whole planet over night", "They will claim a little bit of land at a time to slowly grow their territory"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/2/8/61285//61285-h//61285-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62261", "set_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1006", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Planet of No-Return", "year": 1950, "author": "Peacock, Wilbur S.", "topic": "Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Venus (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Male friendship -- Fiction; Short stories; Adventure stories", "article": "Planet of No-Return\nBy WILBUR S. PEACOCK\nThe orders were explicit: \"Destroy the\n\n 'THING' of Venus.\" But Patrolmen Kerry\n\n Blane and Splinter Wood, their space-ship\n\n wrecked, could not follow orders—their\n\n weapons were useless on the Water-world.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1942.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nOld Kerry Blane exploded.\n\n\n \"Damn it!\" he roared. \"I don't like you; and I don't like this ship;\n and I don't like the assignment; and I don't like those infernal pills\n you keep eating; and I—\"\n\n\n \"Splinter\" Wood grinned.\n\n\n \"Seems to me, Kerry,\" he remarked humorously, \"that you don't like much\n of anything!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane growled unintelligibly, batted the injector lever with a\n calloused hand. His grizzled hair was a stiff wiry mop on his small\n head, and his oversize jaw was thrust belligerently forward. But deep\n within his eyes, where he hoped it was hidden, was a friendly twinkle\n that gave the lie to his speech.\n\n\n \"You're a squirt!\" he snapped disagreeably. \"You're not dry behind\n the ears, yet. You're like the rest of these kids who call themselves\n pilots—only more so! And why the hell the chief had to sic you on me,\n on an exploration trip this important—well, I'll never understand.\"\n\n\n Splinter rolled his six foot three of lanky body into a more\n comfortable position on the air-bunk. He yawned tremendously, fumbled a\n small box from his shirt pocket, and removed a marble-like capsule.\n\n\n \"Better take one of these,\" he warned. \"You're liable to get the space\n bends at any moment.\"\n\n\n Old Kerry Blane snorted, batted the box aside impatiently, scowled\n moodily at the capsules that bounced for a moment against the pilot\n room's walls before hanging motionless in the air.\n\n\n \"Mister Wood,\" he said icily, \"I was flying a space ship while they\n were changing your pants twenty times a day. When I want advice on how\n to fly a ship, how to cure space bends, how to handle a Zelta ray, or\n how to spit—I'll ask you! Until then, you and your bloody marbles can\n go plumb straight to the devil!\"\n\n\n \"Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!\" Splinter reached out lazily, plucked the capsules from\n the air, one by one.\n\n\n Kerry Blane lit one of the five allotted cigarettes of the day.\n\n\n \"Don't 'tsk' me, you young squirt,\" he grunted around a mouthful of\n fragrant smoke. \"I know all the arguments you can put up; ain't that\n all I been hearing for a week? You take your vitamins A, B, C, D, all\n you want, but you leave me alone—or I'll stuff your head down your\n throat, P.D.Q.!\"\n\n\n \"All right, all right!\" Splinter tucked the capsule box back into his\n pocket, grinned mockingly. \"But don't say I didn't warn you. With this\n shielded ship, and with no sunlight reaching Venus' surface, you're\n gonna be begging for some of my vitamin, super-concentrated pills\n before we get back to Earth.\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane made a rich, ripe noise with his mouth.\n\n\n \"Pfuii!\" he said very distinctly.\n\n\n \"Gracious!\" Splinter said in mock horror.\nThey made a strange contrast as they lay in their air bunks. Splinter\n was fully a head taller than the dour Irishman, and his lanky build\n gave a false impression of awkwardness. While the vitriolic Kerry Blane\n was short and compact, strength and quickness evident in every movement.\n\n\n Kerry Blane had flown every type of ship that rode in space. In the\n passing years, he had flight-tested almost every new experimental ship,\n had flown them with increasing skill, had earned a reputation as a\n trouble shooter on any kind of craft.\n\n\n But even Kerry Blane had to retire eventually.\n\n\n A great retirement banquet had been given in his honor by the\n Interplanetary Squadron. There had been the usual speeches and\n presentations; and Kerry Blane had heard them all, had thanked the\n donors of the gifts. But it was not until the next morning, when he was\n dressed in civilian clothes for the first time in forty years, that he\n realized the enormity of the thing that had happened to his life.\n\n\n Something died within Kerry Blane's heart that morning, shriveled and\n passed away, leaving him suddenly shrunken and old. He had become like\n a rusty old freighter couched between the gleaming bodies of great\n space warriors.\n\n\n Finally, as a last resort so that he would not be thrown entirely\n aside, he had taken a desk job in the squadron offices. For six years\n he had dry-rotted there, waiting hopefully for the moment when his\n active services would be needed again.\n\n\n It was there that he had met and liked the ungainly Splinter Wood.\n There was something in the boy that had found a kindred spirit in Kerry\n Blane's heart, and he had taken the youngster in hand to give him the\n benefits of experience that had become legendary.\n\n\n Splinter Wood was a probationary pilot, had been admitted to the\n Interplanetary Squadron because of his inherent skill, even though his\n formal education had been fairly well neglected.\nNow, the two of them rode the pounding jets of a DX cruiser, bound\n for Venus to make a personal survey of its floating islands for the\n Interplanetary Squadron's Medical Division.\n\n\n \"Ten to one we don't get back!\" Splinter said pessimistically.\n\n\n Kerry Blane scrubbed out his cigarette, scowled bleakly at the\n instrument panel. He sensed the faint thread of fear in the youngster's\n tone, and a nostalgic twinge touched his heart, for he was remembering\n the days of his youth when he had a full life to look forward to.\n\n\n \"If you're afraid, you can get out and walk back,\" he snapped\n disagreeably.\n\n\n A grin lifted the corners of Splinter's long mouth, spread into his\n eyes. His hand unconsciously came up, touched the tiny squadron pin on\n his lapel.\n\n\n \"Sorry to disappoint you, glory grabber,\" he said mockingly, \"but I've\n got definite orders to take care of you.\"\n\n\n \"\nMe!\nYou've got orders to take care of\nme\n?\" Kerry Blane choked\n incoherently for a moment, red tiding cholerically upward from his\n loosened collar.\n\n\n \"Of course!\" Splinter grinned.\n\n\n Kerry Blane exploded, words spewing volcanically forth. Splinter\n relaxed, his booted foot beating out a dull rhythm to the colorful\n language learned through almost fifty years of spacing. And at last,\n when Kerry Blane had quieted until he but smoldered, he leaned over and\n touched the old spacer on the sleeve.\n\n\n \"Seventy-eight!\" he remarked pleasantly.\n\n\n \"Seventy-eight what?\" Kerry Blane asked sullenly, the old twinkle\n beginning to light again deep in his eyes.\n\n\n \"Seventy-eight new words—and you swore them beautifully!\" Splinter\n beamed. \"Some day you can teach them to me.\"\n\n\n They laughed then, Old Kerry Blane and young Splinter Wood, and\n the warmth of their friendship was a tangible thing in the small\n control-room of the cruiser.\n\n\n And in the midst of their laughter, Old Kerry Blane choked in agony,\n surged desperately against his bunk straps.\n\n\n He screamed unknowingly, feeling only the horrible excruciating agony\n of his body, tasting the blood that gushed from his mouth and nostrils.\n His muscles were knotted cords that he could not loosen, and his blood\n was a surging stream that pounded at his throbbing temples. The air he\n breathed seemed to be molten flame.\n\n\n His body arced again and again against the restraining straps, and his\n mouth was open in a soundless scream. He sensed dimly that his partner\n had wrenched open a wall door, removed metal medicine kits, and was\n fumbling through their contents. He felt the bite of the hypodermic,\n felt a deadly numbness replace the raging torment that had been his\n for seconds. He swallowed three capsules automatically, passed into a\n coma-like sleep, woke hours later to stare clear-eyed into Splinter's\n concerned face.\n\n\n \"Close, wasn't it?\" he said weakly, conversationally.\n\n\n \"Close enough!\" Splinter agreed relievedly. \"If you had followed my\n advice and taken those vitamin capsules, you'd never have had the\n bends.\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane grinned, winced when he felt the dull ache in his body.\n\n\n \"I've had the bends before, and lived through them!\" he said, still\n weakly defiant.\n\n\n \"That's the past,\" Splinter said quietly. \"This is the present, and you\n take your pills every day, just as I do—from now on.\"\n\n\n \"All right—and thanks!\"\n\n\n \"Forget it!\" Splinter flushed in quick embarrassment.\n\n\n A buzzer sounded from the instrument panel, and a tiny light glowed\n redly.\n\n\n \"Six hours more,\" Splinter said, turned to the instrument panel.\n\n\n His long hands played over the instrument panel, checking, controlling\n the rocket fire, adjusting delicate instruments to hairline marks.\n Kerry Blane nodded in silent approval.\n\n\n They could feel the first tug of gravity on their bodies, and through\n the vision port could see the greenish ball that was cloud-covered\n Venus. Excitement lifted their spirits, brought light to their eyes as\n they peered eagerly ahead.\n\n\n \"What's it really like?\" Splinter asked impatiently.\n\n\n Kerry Blane yawned, settled back luxuriously. \"I'll tell you later,\" he\n said, \"I'm going to take a nap and try to ease this bellyache of mine.\n Wake me up so that I can take over, when we land; Venus is a tricky\n place to set a ship on.\"\n\n\n He yawned again, drifted instantly into sleep, relaxing with the\n ability of a spaceman who sleeps when and if he can. Splinter smiled\n down at his sleeping partner, then turned back to the quartzite port.\n He shook his head a bit, remembering the stories he had heard about the\n water planet, wondering—wondering—\nII\n\n\n Venus was a fluffy cotton ball hanging motionless in bottomless\n space. Far to the left, Mercury gleamed like a polished diamond in\n the sunlight. Kerry Blane cut the driving rockets, let the cruiser\n sink into a fast gravity-dive, guiding it only now and then by a brief\n flicker of a side jet.\n\n\n Splinter Wood watched breathlessly from the vision port, his long face\n eager and reckless, his eyes seeking to pierce the clouds that roiled\n and twisted uneasily over the surface of the planet.\n\n\n Kerry Blane glanced tolerantly at his young companion, felt a nostalgic\n tug at his heart when he remembered the first time he had approached\n the water-planet years before. Then, he had been a young and reckless\n firebrand, his fame already spreading, an unquenchable fire of\n adventure flaming in his heart.\n\n\n Now, his aged but steady fingers rested lightly on the controls,\n brought the patrol cruiser closer to the cloud-banks on the line of\n demarcation between the sunward and sunless sides of the planet. He\n hummed tunelessly, strangely happy, as he peered ahead.\n\n\n \"Val Kenton died there,\" Splinter whispered softly, \"Died to save the\n lives of three other people!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane nodded. \"Yes,\" he agreed, and his voice changed subtly.\n \"Val was a blackguard, a criminal; but he died in the best traditions\n of the service.\" He sighed. \"He never had a chance.\"\n\n\n \"Murdered!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane smiled grimly. \"I guess I used too broad an interpretation\n of the word,\" he said gently. \"Anyway, one of our main tasks is to\n destroy the thing that killed him.\"\n\n\n His lean fingers tightened unconsciously.\n\n\n \"I'd like nothing better than to turn a Zelta-blaster on that chunk of\n living protoplasm and cremate it.\"\n\n\n Splinters shivered slightly. \"Do you think we'll find it?\" he asked.\n\n\n Kerry Blane nodded. \"I think it will find us; after all, it's just an\n animated appetite looking for food.\"\n\n\n He turned back to the controls, flipped a switch, and the cutting of\n the nose rocket dropped the ship in an angling glide toward the clouds\n a few miles below. Gravity was full strength now, and although not as\n great as Earth's, was still strong enough to bring a sense of giddiness\n to the men.\n\n\n \"Here we go!\" Splinter said tonelessly.\n\n\n The great cottony batts of roiling clouds rushed up to meet the ship,\n bringing the first sense of violent movement in more than a week of\n flying. There was something awesome and breath-taking in the speed with\n which the ship dropped toward the planet.\n\n\n Tendrils of vapor touched the ports, were whipped aside, then were\n replaced by heavier fingers of cloud. Kerry Blane pressed a firing\n stud, and nose rockets thrummed in a rising crescendo as the free fall\n of the cruiser was checked. Heat rose in the cabin from the friction of\n the outer air, then dissipated, as the force-screen voltometer leaped\n higher.\n\n\n Then, as though it had never been, the sun disappeared, and there was\n only a gray blankness pressing about the ship. Gone was all sense of\n movement, and the ship seemed to hover in a gray nothingness.\n\n\n Kerry Blane crouched over the control panel, his hands moving deftly,\n his eyes flicking from one instrument to another. Tiny lines of\n concentration etched themselves about his mouth, and perspiration\n beaded his forehead. He rode that cruiser through the miles of clouds\n through sheer instinctive ability, seeming to fly it as though he were\n an integral part of the ship.\n\n\n Splinter Wood watched him with awe in his eyes, seeing for the first\n time the incredible instinct that had made Kerry Blane the idol of a\n billion people. He relaxed visibly, all instinctive fear allayed by the\n brilliant competence of his companion.\n\n\n Seconds flowed into moments, and the moments merged into one another,\n and still the clouds pressed with a visible strength against the\n ports. The rockets drummed steadily, holding the ship aloft, dropping\n it slowly toward the planet below. Then the clouds thinned, and,\n incredibly, were permeated with a dim and glowing light. A second\n later, and the clouds were gone, and a thousand feet below tumbled and\n tossed in a majestic display of ruthless strength an ocean that seemed\n to be composed of liquid fluorescence.\n\n\n Kerry Blane heard Splinter's instant sigh of unbelief.\n\n\n \"Good Lord!\" Splinter said, \"What—\"\n\n\n His voice stilled, and he was silent, his eyes drinking in the weird\n incredible scene below.\nThe ocean was a shifting, white-capped wash of silvery light that\n gleamed with a bright phosphorescence of a hundred, intermingled,\n kaleidoscopic colors. And the unreal, unearthly light continued\n unbroken everywhere, reflected from the low-hanging clouds, reaching\n to the far horizon, bathing every detail of the planet in a brilliance\n more bright than moonlight.\n\n\n Splinter turned a wondering face. \"But the official reports say that\n there is no light on Venus,\" he exclaimed. \"That was one of the reasons\n given when exploration was forbidden!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane nodded. \"That was merely a pretext to keep foolhardy\n spacemen from losing their lives on the planet. In reality, the\n ocean is alive with an incredibly tiny marine worm that glows\n phosphorescently. The light generated from those billions of worms is\n reflected back from the clouds, makes Venus eternally lighted.\"\n\n\n He turned the ship to the North, relaxed a bit on the air bunk. He\n felt tired and worn, his body aching from the space bends of a few\n hours before.\n\n\n \"Take over,\" he said wearily. \"Take the ship North, and watch for any\n island.\"\n\n\n Splinter nodded, rested his long hands on the controls. The space\n cruiser lifted a bit in a sudden spurt of speed, and the rocket-sound\n was a solid thrum of unleashed power.\n\n\n Kerry Blane lit a cigarette, leaned toward a vision port. He felt again\n that thrill he had experienced when he had first flashed his single-man\n cruiser through the clouds years before. Then the breath caught in his\n throat, and he tapped his companion's arm.\n\n\n \"Take a look!\" he called excitedly.\n\n\n They fought in the ocean below, fought in a never-ending splashing of\n what seemed to be liquid fire. It was like watching a tri-dim screen of\n a news event, except for the utter lack of sound.\n\n\n One was scaly, while the other was skinned, and both were fully three\n hundred feet long. Great scimitars of teeth flashed in the light, and\n blood gouted and stained the water crimson whenever a slashing blow was\n struck. They threshed in a mad paroxysm of rage, whirling and spinning\n in the phosphorescent water like beings from a nightmare, exploding\n out of their element time and again, only to fall back in a gargantuan\n spray of fluorescence.\n\n\n And then the scaly monster flashed in a half-turn, drove forward with\n jaws agape, wrenched and ripped at the smooth black throat of the other\n creature. The second creature rippled and undulated in agony, whipping\n the ocean to foam, then went limp. The victorious monster circled the\n body of its dead foe, then, majestically, plunged from sight into the\n ocean's depths. An instant later, the water frothed, as hundreds of\n lesser marine monsters attacked and fed on the floating corpse.\n\n\n \"Brrrr!\" Splinter shivered in sudden horror.\n\n\n Kerry Blane chuckled dryly. \"Feel like going for a swim?\" he asked\n conversationally.\n\n\n Splinter shook his head, watched the scene disappear from view to the\n rear of the line of flight, then sank back onto his bunk.\n\n\n \"Not me!\" he said deprecatingly.\n\n\n Kerry Blane chuckled again, swung the cruiser toward the tiny smudge of\n black on the horizon. Glowing water flashed beneath the ship, seeming\n to smooth into a gleaming mirror shot with dancing colors. There was no\n sign of life anywhere.\n\n\n Thirty minutes later, Kerry Blane circled the island that floated\n free in the phosphorescent ocean. His keen eyes searched the tangled\n luxuriant growth of the jungle below, searching for some indication\n that the protoplasmic monster he seeked was there.\n\n\n \"I don't see anything suspicious,\" Splinter contributed.\n\n\n \"There's nothing special to see,\" Kerry Blane said shortly. \"As I\n understand it, anyway, this chunk of animated appetite hangs around an\n island shaped like a turtle. However, our orders are to investigate\n every island, just in case there might be more than one of the\n monsters.\"\n\n\n Splinter buckled on his dis-gun, excitement flaring in his eyes.\n\n\n \"Let's do a little exploring?\" he said eagerly.\n\n\n Kerry Blane shook his head, swung the cruiser north again.\n\n\n \"Plenty of time for that later,\" he said mildly. \"We'll find this\n turtle-island, make a landing, and take a look around. Later, if we're\n lucky enough to blow our objective to Kingdom Come, we'll do a little\n exploring of the other islands.\"\n\n\n \"Hell!\" Splinter scowled in mock disgust. \"An old woman like you should\n be taking in knitting for a living!\"\n\n\n \"Orders are orders!\" Kerry Blane shrugged.\nHe swung the cruiser in a wide arc to the north, trebling the flying\n speed within minutes, handling the controls with a familiar dexterity.\n He said nothing, searched the gleaming ocean for the smudge of\n blackness that would denote another island. His gaze flicked amusedly,\n now and then, to the lanky Splinter who scowled moodily and toyed with\n the dis-gun in his long hands.\n\n\n \"Cheer up, lad,\" Kerry Blane said finally. \"I think you'll find plenty\n to occupy your time shortly.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe?\" Splinter said gloomily.\n\n\n He idly swallowed another vitamin capsule, grinned, when he saw Kerry\n Blane's automatic grimace of distaste. Then he yawned hugely, twisted\n into a comfortable position, dozed sleepily.\n\n\n Kerry Blane rode the controls for the next three hours, searching the\n limitless ocean for the few specks of islands that followed the slow\n currents of the water planet. Always, there was the same misty light\n surrounding the ship, never dimming, giving a sense of unreality to the\n scene below. Nowhere was there the slightest sign of life until, in the\n fourth hour of flight, a tiny dot of blackness came slowly over the\n horizon's water line.\n\n\n Kerry Blane spun the ship in a tight circle, sent it flashing to the\n west. His keen eyes lighted, when he finally made out the turtle-like\n outline of the island, and he whistled softly, off-key, as he nudged\n the snoring Splinter.\n\n\n \"This is it, Sleeping Beauty,\" he called. \"Snap out of it!\"\n\n\n \"Huh? Whuzzat?\" Splinter grunted, rolled to his elbow.\n\n\n \"Here's the island.\"\n\n\n \"Oh!\" Splinter swung his feet from the bunk, peered from the vision\n port, sleepiness instantly erased from his face.\n\n\n \"Hot damn!\" he chortled. \"Now we'll see a little action!\"\n\n\n Kerry Blane grinned, tried to conceal the excitement he felt. He shook\n his head, his fingers flickering over the control studs.\n\n\n \"Don't get your hopes too high, lad,\" he counseled. \"With those super\n Zelta guns, it won't take ten minutes to wipe out that monster.\"\n\n\n Splinter rubbed his hands together, sighed like a boy seeing his first\n circus. \"Listen, for ten minutes of that, I'd ride this chunk of metal\n for a year!\"\n\n\n \"Could be!\" Kerry Blane agreed.\n\n\n He peered through the port, seeking any spot clear enough for a landing\n field. Except for a strip of open beach, the island was a solid mass of\n heavy fern-like growth.\n\n\n \"Belt yourself,\" Kerry Blane warned. \"If that beach isn't solid, I'll\n have to lift the ship in a hell of a hurry.\"\n\n\n \"Right!\" Splinter's fingers were all thumbs in his excitement.\n\n\n Kerry Blane set the controls for a shallow glide, his fingers moving\n like a concert pianist's. The cruiser yawed slightly, settled slowly\n in a flat shallow glide.\n\n\n \"We're going in,\" Kerry Blane said quietly.\n\n\n He closed a knife switch, seeing too late the vitamin capsule that was\n lodged in the slot. There was the sharp splutter of a short-circuit,\n and a thin tendril of smoke drifted upward.\n\n\n \"Damn!\" Kerry Blane swore briefly.\n\n\n There was an instant, terrific explosion of the stern jets, and the\n cruiser hurtled toward the beach like a gravity-crazed comet.\n\n\n Kerry Blane said absolutely nothing, his breath driven from him by the\n suck of inertia. His hands darted for the controls, seeking to balance\n the forces that threw the ship about like a toy. He cut all rockets\n with a smashing swoop of his hand, tried to fire the bow rockets. But\n the short had ruined the entire control system.\n\n\n For one interminable second, he saw the uncanny uprush of the island\n below. He flicked his gaze about, saw the instant terror that wiped\n all other expression from his young companion's face. Then the cruiser\n plowed into the silvery sand.\n\n\n Belts parted like rotten string; they were thrown forward with crushing\n force against the control panel. They groped feebly for support, their\n bodies twisting involuntarily, as the ship cartwheeled a dozen times in\n a few seconds. Almost instantly, consciousness was battered from them.\n\n\n With one final, grinding bounce, the cruiser rolled to its side,\n twisted over and over for a hundred yards, then came to a metal-ripping\n stop against a moss-grown boulder at the water's edge.\nIII\n\n\n Kerry Blane choked, tried to turn his head from the water that trickled\n into his face. He opened his eyes, stared blankly, uncomprehendingly\n into the bloody features of the man bending over him.\n\n\n \"What happened?\" he gasped.\n\n\n Splinter Wood laughed, almost hysterically, mopped at his forehead with\n a wet handkerchief.\n\n\n \"I thought you were dead!\" he said simply.\n\n\n Kerry Blane moved his arm experimentally, felt broken bones grate in\n an exquisite wave of pain. He fought back the nausea, gazed about the\n cabin, realized the ship lay on its side.\n\n\n \"Maybe I am,\" he said ruefully. \"No man could live through that crash.\"\n\n\n Splinter moved away, sat down tiredly on the edge of a bunk. He shook\n his head dazedly, inspected the long cut on his leg.\n\n\n \"We seem to have done it,\" he said dully.\n\n\n Kerry Blane nodded, clambered to his feet, favoring his broken arm.\n He leaned over the control panel, inspecting the dials with a worried\n gaze. Slowly, his eyes lightened, and his voice was almost cheerful as\n he swung about.\n\n\n \"Everything is more or less okay,\" he said. \"The board will have to\n be rewired, but nothing else seems to be damaged so that repairs are\n needed.\"\n\n\n Splinter looked up from his task of bandaging his leg. \"What caused\n the crash?\" he asked. \"One minute, everything was all right; the next,\n Blooey!\"\n\n\n Anger suddenly mottled Kerry Blane's face; he swore monotonously and\n bitterly for a moment.\n\n\n \"Those gol-damned pills you been taking caused the crash!\" he roared.\n \"One of them broke and shorted out the control board.\" He scowled at\n the incredulous Splinter. \"By the three tails of a Martian sand-pup, I\n ought to cram the rest of them down your throat, boxes and all!\"\n\n\n Splinter flushed, seemed to be fumbling for words. After a bit, Kerry\n Blane grinned.\n\n\n \"Forget it, lad,\" he said more kindly, \"those things happen. Now, if\n you'll bind a splint about my arm, we'll see what we can do about\n righting the ship.\"\n\n\n Splinter nodded, opened the medical locker, worked with tape and\n splints for minutes. Great beads of perspiration stood out in high\n relief on Kerry Blane's forehead, but he made no sound. At last,\n Splinter finished, tucked the supplies away.\n\n\n \"Now what?\" he asked subduedly.\n\n\n \"Let's take a look outside, maybe set up the Zelta guns. Can't tell but\n what that protoplasmic nightmare might take a notion to pay us a visit\n in the near future!\"\n\n\n \"Right!\" Splinter unscrewed the port cogs, swung the portal back.\n\n\n He swung lithely from the portal, reached down a hand to help the\n older man. After much puffing and grunting, Kerry Blane managed to\n clamber through the port. They stood for a moment in silent wonder,\n staring at the long lazy rollers of milky fluorescence that rolled\n endlessly toward the beach, then turned to gaze at the great fern-like\n trees that towered two hundred feet into the air.\n\n\n \"How big do you feel now?\" Kerry Blane asked quietly.\n\n\n Splinter Wood was silent, awed by the beauty and the tremendous size of\n the growths on the water world.\n\n\n Kerry Blane walked the length of the cruiser, examining the slight\n damage done by the crash, evaluating the situation with a practiced\n gaze. He nodded slowly, retraced his steps, and stood looking at the\n furrow plowed in the sand.\n\n\n \"Won't be any trouble at all to lift the ship,\" he called. \"After\n rewiring the board, we'll turn the ship with an underjet, swing it\n about, and head her toward the sea.\"\n\n\n Splinter nodded, dropped into the open port. A moment later, he flipped\n a rope ladder outside, where it dangled to the ground, then climbed out\n himself, carrying the two Zelta guns.\n\n\n \"We'd better test these,\" he said. \"We don't want any slip-ups when we\n do go into action.\"\n\n\n He climbed down the ladder, laid the guns aside, then reached up a\n hand to aid Kerry Blane's descent. Kerry Blane came down slowly and\n awkwardly, jumped the last few feet. He felt surprisingly light and\n strong in the lesser gravity.\n\n\n He stood, leaning against the ship, watching as Splinter picked up\n the first gun and leveled it at a gigantic tree. Splinter sighted\n carefully, winked at the older man, then pressed the firing stud.\n\n\n Nothing happened; there was no hissing crackle of released energy.\n\n\n Kerry Blane strode forward, puzzlement on his lined face, his hand\n out-stretched toward the defective weapon. Splinter gaped at the gun in\n his hands, held it out wordlessly.\n\n\n \"The crash must have broken something,\" Kerry Blane said slowly.\n\n\n Splinter shook his head. \"There's only one moving part,\" he said, \"and\n that's the force gate on the firing stud.\"\n\n\n \"Try the other,\" Kerry Blane said slowly.\n\n\n \"Okay!\"\n\n\n Splinter lifted the second gun, pressed the stud, gazed white-faced at\n his companion.\n\n\n \"It won't work, either,\" he said stupidly. \"I don't get it? The source\n of power is limitless. Solar rays never—\"\n\n\n Old Kerry Blane dropped the first gun to his side, swore harshly.\n\n\n \"Damn it,\" he said. \"They didn't think of it; you didn't think of it;\n and I most certainly forgot! Solar rays can't penetrate the miles of\n clouds on Venus. Those guns are utterly useless as weapons!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the relationship between Kerry Blane and Splinter Wood?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_1", "options": ["Blane is Splinter's colleague", "Blane is Splinter's mentor", "Blane is Splinter's brother", "Blane is Splinter's father"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why doesn't Kerry Blane take the pills that Splinter offers him?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_2", "options": ["He thinks Splinter is trying to poison him", "He thinks he doesn't need the pills because he never took them when he was younger", "He thinks the pills are only for new pilots", "He thinks the pills do more harm than good"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Kerry Blane leave retirement?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_3", "options": ["He runs out of money in his pension", "Splinter Wood asks for him to be his mentor", "He misses flying spacecraft too much to quit", "He is called back to fly spacecraft because he is one of the best pilots"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which is not a symptom of the space bends?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_4", "options": ["A horrible headache", "Muscle cramps", "Numbness in the arms and legs", "A bloody nose"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Splinter Wood view Kerry Blane?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_5", "options": ["He admires Blane but also views him as a friend", "He is angry at Blane for being stuck in his ways", "He is afraid of Blane", "He hates Blane for stealing his spotlight"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Kerry Blane's experience help the two men on their mission?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_6", "options": ["He knows Venus has light underneath the surface", "He is able to help them avoid the space bends without taking pills", "He knows how to communicate with the protoplasm they are supposed to kill", "He knows that solar charged weapons will not work on Venus"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the main goal of their trip to Venus?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_7", "options": ["To find the turtle that lives in Venus's ocean", "To bring home samples of the glowing marine worms", "To exterminate a particular protoplasm that killed another human ", "To observe the interactions between the sea creatures on Venus"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does their spacecraft crash?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_8", "options": ["Wood makes a mistake and pulls the wrong switch", "The ship crashes because it runs on solar power and there is no sunlight on Venus", "A capsule gets stuck in the controls, causing them to stop working", "Blane loses control of the craft due to the arthritis in his fingers"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Blane's reaction to the crash?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_9", "options": ["He has an outburst of anger but then becomes cheerful", "He is so injured that he does not realize what has happened", "He is furious with Splinter and refuses to speak to him after it", "He is completely calm and tells Splinter not to worry"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why don't the Zelta guns work?", "question_unique_id": "62261_99Z0HIK2_10", "options": ["They are powered by the sun, which is not visible on Venus", "They were never loaded with ammunition", "They are defective models", "They were broken in the crash"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/2/6/62261//62261-h//62261-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62314", "set_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1006", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Stranger From Space", "year": 1964, "author": "Bok, Hannes", "topic": "Life on other planets -- Fiction; Short stories; PS; Science fiction; Venus (Planet) -- Fiction", "article": "STRANGER FROM SPACE\nBy HANNES BOK\nShe prayed that a God would come from the skies\n\n and carry her away to bright adventures. But\n\n when he came in a metal globe, she knew only\n\n disappointment—for his godliness was oddly strange!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories March 1943.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nIt was twilight on Venus—the rusty red that the eyes notice when\n their closed lids are raised to light. Against the glow, fantastically\n twisted trees spread claws of spiky leaves, and a group of clay huts\n thrust up sharp edges of shadow, like the abandoned toy blocks of a\n gigantic child. There was no sign of clear sky and stars—the heavens\n were roofed by a perpetual ceiling of dust-clouds.\n\n\n A light glimmered in one of the huts. Feminine voices rippled across\n the clearing and into the jungle. There was laughter, then someone's\n faint and wistful sigh. One of the voices mourned, in the twittering\n Venusian speech, \"How I envy you, Koroby! I wish I were being married\n tonight, like you!\"\n\n\n Koroby stared defiantly at the laughing faces of her bridesmaids. She\n shrugged hopelessly. \"I don't care,\" she said slowly. \"It will be nice\n to have Yasak for a husband—yes. And perhaps I do love him. I don't\n know.\" She tightened her lips as she reflected on it.\n\n\n She left them, moving gracefully to the door. Venus-girls were\n generally of truly elfin proportions, so delicately slim that they\n seemed incapable of the slightest exertion. But Koroby's body\n was—compared to her friends'—voluptuous.\n\n\n She rested against the door-frame, watching the red of the afterglow\n deepen to purple. \"I want romance,\" she said, so softly that the girls\n had to strain forward to hear her. \"I wish that there were other worlds\n than this—and that someone would drop out of the skies and claim\n me ... and take me away from here, away from all this—this monotony!\"\n\n\n She turned back to her friends, went to them, one of her hands, patting\n the head of the kneeling one. She eyed herself in the mirror.\n\n\n \"Well—heigh-ho! There don't seem to be any other worlds, and nobody is\n going to steal me away from Yasak, so I might as well get on with my\n preparations. The men with the litter will be here soon to carry me to\n the Stone City.\"\n\n\n She ran slim hands down her sides, smoothing the blue sarong; she\n fondled her dark braids. \"Trossa, how about some flowers at my ears—or\n do you think that it would look a little too much—?\" Her eyes sought\n the mirror, and her lips parted in an irreprehensible smile. She\n trilled softly to herself, \"Yes, I am beautiful tonight—the loveliest\n woman Yasak will ever see!\" And then, regretfully, sullenly, \"But oh,\n if only\nHe\nwould come ... the man of my dreams!\"\n\n\n There was a rap at the doorway; they turned. One of the litter-bearers\n loomed darker than the gloomy sky. \"Are you ready?\" he asked.\n\n\n Koroby twirled before the mirror, criticizing her appearance. \"Yes,\n ready,\" she said.\n\n\n \"Ready!\" the girls cried. Then there was a little silence.\n\n\n \"Shall we go now?\" Koroby asked, and the litter-carrier nodded. Koroby\n kissed the girls, one after another. \"Here, Shonka—you can have this\n bracelet you've always liked. And this is for you, Lolla. And here,\n Trossa—and you, Shia. Goodbye, darlings, goodbye—come and see me\n whenever you can!\"\n\n\n \"Goodbye, Koroby!\"\n\n\n \"Goodbye! Goodbye!\" They crowded around her, embracing, babbling\n farewells, shreds of advice. Trossa began to cry. Finally Koroby broke\n away from them, went to the door. She took a last look at the interior\n of the little hut, dim in the lamplight—at the hard bed of laced\ngnau\n-hide strips, the crude but beautifully-carved charts and chests.\n Then she turned and stepped out into the night.\n\n\n \"This way,\" the litter-carrier announced, touching the girl's arm. They\n stumbled over the rutted clearing toward the twinkling sparks that were\n the lights of the other litter-bearers, colored sparks as befitted\n a wedding-conveyance. The winking lights were enclosed in shells of\n colored glass for another reason—the danger of their firing the papery\n jungle verdure.\nIt was not a new litter, built especially for the occasion—Yasak was\n too practical a man to sanction any kind of waste. It was the same\n old litter that Koroby had been watching come and go ever since she\n was a little girl, a canopied framework of gaudily-painted carvings.\n She had wondered, watching it pass, whether its cushioned floor was\n soft, and now, as she stepped into the litter, she patted the padding\n experimentally. Yes, it was soft .... And fragrant, too—a shade too\n fragrant. It smelled stale, hinting of other occupants, other brides\n being borne to other weddings....\n\n\n Garlands of flowers occupied a good deal of space in it. Settled among\n them, she felt like a bird in a strange nest. She leaned back among\n them; they rustled dryly. Too bad—it had been such a dry year—\n\n\n \"You're comfortable?\" the litter bearer asked. Koroby nodded, and the\n litter was lifted, was carried along the path.\n\n\n The procession filed into the jungle, into a tunnel of arched branches,\n of elephant-eared leaves. Above the monotonous music came the hiss of\n the torches, the occasional startled cry of a wakened bird. The glow of\n the flames, in the dusty air, hung around the party, sharply defined,\n like a cloak of light. At times a breeze would shake the ceiling of\n foliage, producing the sound of rolling surf.\n\n\n Koroby fingered the flowers around her throat, her eyes rapt on the\n passing trees. Her lips moved in the barest murmur: \"If only—!\"\n and again, \"Oh, if only—!\" But the music trickled on, and nothing\n happened; the litter seemed to float along—none of the bearers even\n stumbled.\n\n\n They came to a cleared space of waist-high grass. It was like a canyon\n steeply walled by cliffs of verdure. The litter jerked as it glided\n along, and Koroby heard one of the bearers exclaim gruffly, \"Listen!\"\n Then the litter resumed its dream-like floating on the backs of the men.\n\n\n \"What was it?\" another bearer asked.\n\n\n \"Thought I heard something,\" the other replied. \"Shrill and high—like\n something screaming—\"\n\n\n Koroby peered out. \"A\ngnau\n?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" the bearer volunteered.\n\n\n Koroby lifted a hand. \"Stop the litter,\" she said.\nThe conveyance halted. Koroby leaning out, the men peering around them,\n they listened. One of the bearers shouted at the musicians; the music\n ceased. There was nothing to be heard except the whisper of the breeze\n in the grass.\n\n\n Then the girl heard it—a shrill, distant whine, dying away, then\n growing louder—and louder—it seemed to be approaching—from the sky—\n\n\n All the faces were lifted up now, worriedly. The whine grew\n louder—Koroby's hands clenched nervously on the wreaths at her throat—\n\n\n Then, far ahead, a series of bright flashes, like the lightning of the\n dust-storms, but brilliantly green. A silence, then staccatto reports,\n certainly not thunder—unlike any sound that Koroby had ever heard.\n\n\n There was a babble of voices as the musicians crowded together, asking\n what had it been, and where—just exactly—could one suppose it had\n happened, that thunder—was it going to storm!\n\n\n They waited, but nothing further happened—there were no more stabs of\n green light nor detonations. The bearers stooped to lift the litter's\n poles to their shoulders. \"Shall we go on?\" one of them asked Koroby.\n\n\n She waved a hand. \"Yes, go on.\"\nThe litter resumed its gentle swaying, but the music did not start\n again. Then, from the direction of the light-flashes, a glow appeared,\n shining steadily, green as the flashes had been. Noticing it, Koroby\n frowned. Then the path bent, and the glow swung to one side.\n\n\n Suddenly Koroby reached out, tapped the shoulder of the closet bearer.\n \"Go toward the light.\"\n\n\n His face swung up to hers. \"But—there's no path that way—\"\n\n\n \"I don't care,\" she said. \"Take me there.\" Her order had reached the\n others' ears, and they slowed their pace.\n\n\n \"Lady—believe me—it's impossible. There's nothing but matted jungle\n in that direction—we'd have to hack our way as we go along. And who\n knows how far away that light is? Besides, you're on your way to be\n married.\"\n\n\n \"Take me to that light!\" she persisted.\n\n\n They set the litter down. \"We can't do that,\" one man said to another.\n\n\n Koroby stepped out to the path, straightened up, her eyes on the glow.\n \"You'd better,\" she said ominously. \"Otherwise, I'll make a complaint\n to Yasak—\"\n\n\n The men eyed each other, mentally shrugging. \"Well—\" one yielded.\n\n\n The girl whirled impatiently on the others. \"Hurry!\" she cried. \"If you\n won't take me, I'll go by myself. I must get to that fire, whatever it\n is!\" She put a hand to her heart. \"I must! I must!\" Then she faced the\n green glare again, smiling to herself.\n\n\n \"You can't do that!\" a carrier cried.\n\n\n \"Well, then, you take me,\" she said over her shoulder.\n\n\n Grumbling, they bent to the conveyance's poles, and Koroby lithely\n slipped to the cushions. They turned off the path, plodded through the\n deep grass toward the light. The litter lurched violently as their\n feet caught in the tangled grass, and clouds of fine dust arose from\n the disturbed blades.\nBy the time they reached the source of the light, they were quite\n demoralized. The musicians had not accompanied them, preferring to\n carry the message to Yasak in the Stone City that his prospective\n bride had gone off on a mad journey. The bearers were powdered grey\n with dust, striped with blood where the dry grass-stems had cut them.\n They were exhausted and panting. Koroby was walking beside them, for\n they had abandoned the litter finally. Her blue drapery was ripped and\n rumpled; her carefully-arranged braids had fallen loose; dust on her\n face had hid its youthful color, aging her.\n\n\n The expedition emerged from the jungle on a sandy stretch of barren\n land. A thousand feet away a gigantic metal object lay on the sand,\n crumpled as though it had dropped from a great distance. It had been\n globular before the crash, and was pierced with holes like windows.\n What could it possibly be? A house? But whoever heard of a metal house?\n Why, who could forge such a thing! Yasak's house in the City had iron\n doors, and they were considered one of the most wonderful things of the\n age. It would take a giant to make such a ponderous thing as this.\n\n\n A house, fallen from the sky? The green lights poured out of its\n crumpled part, and a strange bubbling and hissing filled the air.\n\n\n Koroby stopped short, clasping her hands and involuntarily uttering a\n squeal of joyful excitement, for between her and the blaze, his eyes on\n the destruction, stood a man.....\n\n\n He was very tall, and his shoulders were very wide. Oh, but he looked\n like a man, and stood like one—even though his hands were folded\n behind his back and he was probably dejected. A man in a house from the\n sky—\n\n\n Koroby hastily grasped a corner of her gown, moistened it with saliva,\n and scrubbed her face. She rearranged her hair, and stepped forward.\n\n\n \"Don't go there—it's magic—he'll cast a spell—!\" one of the bearers\n whispered urgently, reaching after her, but Koroby pushed him away. The\n litter-carriers watched the girl go, unconsciously huddling together\n as if feeling the need for combined strength. They withdrew into the\n jungle's shadows, and waited there anxiously, ready at any moment to\n run away.\n\n\n But Koroby, with supreme confidence, walked toward the stranger, her\n lovely body graceful as a cat's, her face radiant. The man did not hear\n her. She halted behind him, waited silent, expectant, excited—but he\n did not turn. The green fire sputtered upward. At last the girl stepped\n to the man's side and gently touched him again. He turned, and her\n heart faltered: she swayed with bliss.\n\n\n He was probably a god. Not even handsome Yasak looked like this. Here\n was a face so finely-chiseled, so perfectly proportioned, that it was\n almost frightening, unhuman, mechanical. It was unlined and without\n expression, somehow unreal. Mysterious, compelling.\n\n\n He was clothed very peculiarly. A wonderfully-made metallic garment\n enclosed his whole body—legs and all, unlike the Venus-men's tunics.\n Even his feet were covered. Perhaps it was armor—though the Venus-men\n usually wore only breastplate and greaves. And a helmet hid all of\n the man's head except his face. Around his waist was a belt with many\n incomprehensible objects dangling from it. If he was so well armored,\n why was he not carrying a sword—a dagger at least! Of what use were\n those things on his belt—for instance, that notched L-shaped thing? It\n would not even make a decent club!\n\n\n The stranger did not speak, merely gazed deeply into Koroby's eyes. And\n she, returning the gaze, wondered if he was peering into her very soul.\n The words of a folk-ballad came to her:\n\n\"—He'll smile and touch my cheek,\nAnd maybe more;\nAnd though we'll neither speak,\nWe'll know the score—\"\nSuddenly he put his hands to her cheeks and bent close to her, his eyes\n peering into hers as though he were searching for something he had lost\n in them. She spoke her thought: \"What are you doing? You seem to be\n reading my mind!\"\n\n\n Without removing hands, he nodded. \"Reading—mind.\" He stared long\n into her eyes. His dispassionate, too-perfect face began to frighten\n her. She slipped back from him, her hand clutching her throat.\n\n\n He straightened up and spoke—haltingly at first, then with growing\n assurance. \"Don't be afraid. I mean you no harm.\" She trembled. It was\n such a wonderful voice—it was as she had always dreamed it! But she\n had never really believed in the dream....\n\n\n He was looking at the wrecked globe of metal. \"So there are people on\n Venus!\" he said slowly.\n\n\n Koroby watched him, forgot her fear, and went eagerly to him, took his\n arm. \"Who are you?\" she asked. \"Tell me your name!\"\n\n\n He turned his mask of a face to her. \"My name? I have none,\" he said.\n\n\n \"No name? But who are you? Where are you from? And what is that?\" She\n pointed at the metal globe.\n\n\n \"The vehicle by which I came here from a land beyond the sky,\" he said.\n She had no concept of stars or space, and he could not fully explain.\n \"From a world known as Terra.\"\n\n\n She was silent a moment, stunned. So there was another world! Then she\n asked, \"Is it far? Have you come to take me there?\"\n\n\n Here the similarity between her dream and actual experience ended.\n What was he thinking as he eyed her for a long moment? She had no way\n of guessing. He said, \"No, I am not going to take you back there.\" Her\n month gaped in surprise, and he continued, \"As for the distance to\n Terra—it is incredibly far away.\"\n\n\n The glare was beginning to die, the green flames' hissing fading to a\n whisper. They watched the melting globe sag on the sand. Then Koroby\n said, \"But if it is so far away, how could you speak my language? There\n are some tribes beyond the jungle whose language is unlike ours—\"\n\n\n \"I read your mind,\" he explained indifferently. \"I have a remarkable\n memory.\"\n\n\n \"Remarkable indeed!\" she mocked. \"No one here could do that.\"\n\n\n \"But my race is infinitely superior to yours,\" he said blandly. \"You\n little people—ah—\" He gestured airily.\n\n\n Her lips tightened and her eyes narrowed. \"And I?\"\n\n\n His voice sounded almost surprised. \"What about you?\"\n\n\n \"You see nothing about me worthy of your respect? Are you infinitely\n superior to me—\nme\n?\"\n\n\n He looked her up and down. \"Of course!\"\n\n\n Her eyes jerked wide open and she took a deep breath. \"And just who do\n you think you are? A god?\"\n\n\n He shook his head. \"No. Just better informed, for one thing. And—\"\n\n\n Koroby cut him short. \"What's your name?\"\n\n\n \"I have none.\"\n\n\n \"What do you mean, you have none?\"\n\n\n He seemed just a trifle bored. \"We gave up names long ago on my world.\n We are concerned with more weighty things than our own selves. But I\n have a personal problem now,\" he said, making a peculiar sound that\n was not quite a sigh. \"Here I am stranded on Venus, my ship utterly\n wrecked, and I'm due at the Reisezek Convention in two weeks. You\"—he\n gripped Koroby's shoulder, and his strength made her wince—\"tell me,\n where is the nearest city? I must communicate with my people at once.\"\n\n\n She pointed. \"The Stone City's that way.\"\n\n\n \"Good,\" he said. \"Let's go there.\"\n\n\n They took another glance at the metal globe and the green fire, which\n by now had died to a fitful glimmer. Then the stranger and the girl\n started toward the jungle, where the litter-bearers awaited them.\nAs the party was struggling through the prairie's tall grass, the man\n said to Koroby, \"I realize from the pictures in your mind that there\n is no means in your city of communicating directly with my people. But\n it seems that there are materials which I can utilize in building a\n signal—\"\n\n\n He was walking along, head erect, apparently quite at ease, while the\n litter bearers and Koroby could barely drag themselves with him. The\n girl's garment was a tattered ruin. Her skin was gritty with dust, and\n she was bleeding from many scratches. She tripped over tangled roots\n and exclaimed in pain. Then the man took one of the strange implements\n from his belt, pressed a knob on it, and light appeared as if by magic!\n He handed the stick to Koroby, but she was afraid to touch it. This was\n a strange light that gave no heat, nor flickered in the breeze. Finally\n she accepted it from him, but carried it gingerly at arm's length.\n\n\n She refused to believe that he had no name, and so he named himself.\n \"Call me Robert. It is an ancient name on Terra.\"\n\n\n \"Robert,\" she said, and, \"Robert.\"\n\n\n But at last she could go no farther. She had forced herself along\n because she wanted to impress this indifferent man that she was not as\n inferior as he might think—but now she could not go on. With a little\n cry almost of relief, she sank to the ground and lay semi-conscious, so\n weary that the very pain of it seemed on the point of pleasure.\n\n\n Robert dipped down, scooped her up, and carried her.\n\n\n Lights glimmered ahead; shouts reached them. It was a searching party,\n Yasak in it. The litter-carriers who could still speak blurted out what\n had happened. \"A green light—loud sounds—fire—this man there—\" and\n then dropped into sleep.\n\n\n \"Someone carry these men,\" Yasak ordered. To Robert he said, \"We're not\n very far from the path to the City now. Shall I carry the girl?\"\n\n\n \"It makes no difference,\" Robert said.\n\n\n \"You will stay with me while you are in the City, of course,\" Yasak\n said, as they walked. He eyed this handsome stranger speculatively, and\n then turned to shout an necessary order. \"You, there, keep in line!\" He\n glanced at Robert furtively to see if this had impressed him at all.\nIt was day. Koroby sat up in bed and scanned her surroundings. She was\n in Yasak's house. The bed was very soft, the coverlets of the finest\n weave. The furniture was elegantly carved and painted; there were even\n paintings on the walls.\n\n\n A woman came to the bed. She was stocky and wore drab grey: the blue\n circles tattooed on her cheeks proclaimed her a slave. \"How do you\n feel?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"Fairly well. How long have I been ill?\" Koroby asked, sweetly weak.\n\n\n \"You haven't been ill. They brought you in last night.\"\n\n\n \"Oh,\" Koroby said disappointedly, and sat upright. \"I feel as if I'd\n been lying here for weeks. Where's Yasak? Where's the strange man in\n armor?\"\n\n\n \"Yasak's out somewhere. The stranger man is in the room at the end of\n the hall.\"\n\n\n \"Fetch me something to wear—that's good enough,\" the girl accepted the\n mantle offered by the slave. \"Quick, some water—I must wash.\"\n\n\n In a few minutes she was lightly running down the hall; she knocked on\n the door of Robert's room. \"May I come in?\"\n\n\n He did not answer. She waited a little and went in. He was seated on\n one of the carved chairs, fussing over some scraps of metal on the\n table. He did not look up.\n\n\n \"Thank you for carrying me, Robert.\" He did not reply. \"Robert—I\n dreamed of you last night. I dreamed you built another round house and\n that we both flew away in it. Yasak had to stay behind, and he was\n furious. Robert! Aren't you listening?\"\n\n\n \"I hear you.\"\n\n\n \"Don't you think it was an exciting dream?\" He shook his head. \"But\n why? Robert\"—she laid longing hands on his shoulders—\"can't you see\n that I'm in love with you?\" He shrugged. \"I believe you don't know what\n love is!\"\n\n\n \"I had a faint idea of it when I looked into your mind,\" he said. \"I'm\n afraid I haven't any use for it. Where I come from there is no love,\n and there shouldn't be here, either. It's a waste of time.\"\n\n\n \"Robert—I'm mad about you! I've dreamed of your coming—all my life!\n Don't be so cruel—so cold to me! You mock me, say that I'm nothing,\n that I'm not worthy of you—\"\n\n\n She stepped back from him, clenching her hands. \"Oh, I hate you—hate\n you! You don't care the least bit about me—and I've shamed myself in\n front of you—I, supposed to be Yasak's wife by now!\" She began to\n cry, hid her face in suddenly lax fingers. She looked up fiercely. \"I\n could kill you!\" Robert stood immobile, no trace of feeling marring the\n perfection of his face. \"I could kill you, and I will kill you!\" she\n sprang at him.\n\n\n \"You'll hurt yourself,\" he admonished kindly, and after she had\n pummeled his chest, bruising her fingers on his armor, she turned away.\n\n\n \"And now if you're through playing your incomprehensible little scene,\"\n Robert said, \"I hope you will excuse me. I regret that I have no\n emotions—I was never allowed them. But it is an esthetic regret.... I\n must go back to my wrecked ship now and arrange the signals there.\" He\n did not wait for her leave, but strode out of the room.\n\n\n Koroby huddled on a chair, sobbing. Then she dried her eyes on the\n backs of her hands. She went to the narrow slits that served as windows\n and unfastened the translucent shutter of one. Down in the City street,\n Robert was walking away. Her eyes hardened, and her fingers spread\n into ugly claws. Without bothering to pull the shutter in place she\n hurried out of the room, ran eagerly down the hall. She stopped at\n the armor-rack at the main hall on her way outside, and snatched up a\nsiatcha\n—a firestone. Then she slipped outside and down the street.\nThe City's wall was not far behind. Robert was visible in the distance,\n striding toward his sky-ship, a widening cloud of dust rising behind\n him like the spreading wake of a boat. Koroby stood on tip-toe, waving\n and calling after him, \"Robert! Robert! Come back!\" but he did not seem\n to hear.\n\n\n She watched him a little longer. Then she deliberately stooped and drew\n the firestone out of its sheath. She touched it to a blade of the tall\n grass. A little orange flame licked up, slowly quested along the blade,\n down to the ground and up another stem. It slipped over to another\n stem, and another, growing larger, hotter—Koroby stepped back from the\n writhing fire, her hand protectively over her face.\n\n\n The flames crackled at first—like the crumpling of thin paper. Then,\n as they widened and began climbing hand over hand up an invisible\n ladder, they roared. Koroby was running back toward the City now, away\n from the heat. The fire spread in a long line over the prairie. Above\n its roar came shouts from the City. The flames rose in a monstrous\n twisting pillar, brighter than even the dust-palled sky, lighting the\n buildings and the prairie. The heat was dreadful.\n\n\n Koroby reached the City wall, panted through the gate into a shrieking\n crowd. Someone grasped her roughly—she was too breathless to do more\n than gasp for air—and shook her violently. \"You fool, you utter\n fool! What did you think you were doing?\" Others clamored around her,\n reaching for her. Then she heard Yasak's voice. Face stern, he pushed\n through the crowd, pressed her to him. \"Let her alone—Let her alone, I\n say!\"\n\n\n They watched the conflagration, Yasak and Koroby, from a higher part of\n the wall than where the others were gathered. They could glimpse Robert\n now and then. He was running, trying to outrace the flames. Then they\n swept around him, circling him—his arms flailed frantically.\nThe fire had passed over the horizon. The air was blue with smoke,\n difficult to breathe, and ashes were drifting lightly down like\n dove-colored snow. Yasak, watery eyed, a cloth pressed to his nose, was\n walking with several others over the smoking earth and still warm ashes\n up to his knees. In one hand he held a stick. He stopped and pointed.\n \"He fell about here,\" he said, and began to probe the ashes with the\n stick.\n\n\n He struck something. \"Here he is!\" he cried. The others hurried to the\n spot and scooped ashes away, dog-fashion, until Robert's remains were\n laid clear. There were exclamations of amazement and perplexity from\n the people.\n\n\n It was a metal skeleton, and the fragments of complicated machinery,\n caked with soot.\n\n\n \"He wasn't human at all!\" Yasak marvelled. \"He was some kind of a toy\n made to look like a man—that's why he wore armor, and his face never\n changed expression—\"\n\n\n \"Magic!\" someone cried, and backed away.\n\n\n \"Magic!\" the others repeated, and edged back ... and that was the\n end of one of those robots which had been fashioned as servants for\n Terrestial men, made in Man's likeness to appease Man's vanity, then\n conquered him.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How does Koroby feel about marrying Yasak?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_1", "options": ["She wants to marry him for his money, since he will spare no expense for Koroby", "She is afraid to marry him because he has a reputation for being cruel", "She is uncertain whether she is making the right choice, but she is going to marry him because she has no better option", "She is excited to marry him because he is her true love"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0033", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is an example of foreshadowing in the story?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_2", "options": ["Yasak is too practical to buy a new litter, indicating that he will refuse to buy Koroby the expensive dresses she wants once they are married", "Koroby wishes that a man of her dreams will fall from the sky, and then an outsider does land on the planet", "Koroby's feels like a bird in a nest on her litter, and then later she flies away from the planet like a bird", "Koroby feels like she is floating on her litter, and later she floats in space on a spaceship"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "From the text, what can we infer about Yasuk's social status in this society?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_3", "options": ["Yasak is an outcast ", "Yasak is a poor peasant who cannot afford a dowry for Koroby", "Yasak is a powerful man who can afford servants", "Yasak is from a rich family but has spent his fortune recklessly"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is not a reason why Koroby is impressed by the stranger who lands in a spaceship?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_4", "options": ["His gun looks deadly", "His spaceship is made from metal, which is not a common building material on Venus", "He appears to be wearing sophisticated armor", "He is more good-looking than Yasak"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the stranger land on Venus?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_5", "options": ["To enlighten the people of Venus by showing them advanced technology", "To take Koroby back to his planet", "To observe the people of Venus and send his observations back home", "He lands there by mistake"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Robert view Koroby?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_6", "options": ["He views her as an obstacle to getting back home to his planet", "He views her as a primitive being needing protection", "He views her as an inferior being and feels only apathy for her", "He views her as a potential mate "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Robert reject Koroby?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_7", "options": ["He is in love with another person on his home planet", "He doesn't want to become involved with a married woman", "He doesn't have emotions because he is actually a robot", "He thinks her love is too sudden to actually be true love"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What technology have the people of Venus not developed?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_8", "options": ["Electricity", "Glassmaking", "Creating fire", "Metallurgy"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Koroby not have a concept of space?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_9", "options": ["She has never been able to see space or stars because clouds always cover the sky on Venus", "She is a robot with no ability to think abstractly", "She and all the other inhabitants of Venus are blind", "She is too young to understand the idea of space"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is revealed about the fate of humans on Earth at the end of the story?", "question_unique_id": "62314_QZHV11CY_10", "options": ["They have all left for other planets", "Robots have subjugated them", "Robert is the last human left since all the others died out due to disease", "They have evolved into a new species of cyborgs"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/3/1/62314//62314-h//62314-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61430", "set_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1006", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Manners and Customs of the Thrid", "year": 1961, "author": "Leinster, Murray", "topic": "Short stories; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Prisoners -- Fiction; Escapes -- Fiction; Manners and customs -- Fiction", "article": "MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE THRID\nBY MURRAY LEINSTER\nThe Thrid were the wisest creatures in\n\n space—they even said so themselves!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, September 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nI\n\n\n The real trouble was that Jorgenson saw things as a business man does.\n But also, and contradictorily, he saw them as right and just, or as\n wrong and intolerable. As a business man, he should have kept his mind\n on business and never bothered about Ganti. As a believer in right and\n wrong, it would have been wiser for him to have stayed off the planet\n Thriddar altogether. Thriddar was no place for him, anyhow you look at\n it. On this particular morning it was especially the wrong place for\n him to be trying to live and do business.\n\n\n He woke up thinking of Ganti, and in consequence he was in a bad mood\n right away. Most humans couldn't take the sort of thing that went on on\n Thriddar. Most of them wanted to use missile weapons—which the Thrid\n did not use—to change the local social system. Most humans got off\n Thriddar—fast! And boiling mad.\n\n\n Jorgenson had stood it longer than most because in spite of their\n convictions he liked the Thrid. Their minds did do outside loops, and\n come up with intolerable convictions. But they were intelligent enough.\n They had steam-power and even steam-driven atmosphere fliers, but they\n didn't have missile weapons and they did have a social system that\n humans simply couldn't accept—even though it applied only to Thrid.\n The ordinary Thrid, with whom Jorgenson did business, weren't bad\n people. It was the officials who made him grind his teeth. And though\n it was his business only to run the trading post of the Rim Stars\n Trading Corporation, sometimes he got fed up.\n\n\n This morning was especially beyond the limit. There was a new Grand\n Panjandrum—the term was Jorgenson's own for the supreme ruler over\n all the Thrid—and when Jorgenson finished his breakfast a high Thrid\n official waited in the trading-post compound. Around him clustered\n other Thrid, wearing the formal headgear that said they were Witnesses\n to an official act.\n\n\n Jorgenson went out, scowling, and exchanged the customary ceremonial\n greetings. Then the high official beamed at him and extracted a scroll\n from his voluminous garments. Jorgenson saw the glint of gold and was\n suspicious at once. The words of a current Grand Panjandrum were always\n written in gold. If they didn't get written in gold they didn't get\n written at all; but it was too bad if anybody ignored any of them.\n\n\n The high official unrolled the scroll. The Thrid around him, wearing\n Witness hats, became utterly silent. The high official made a sound\n equivalent to clearing his throat. The stillness became death-like.\n\n\n \"On this day,\" intoned the high official, while the Witnesses\n listened reverently, \"on this day did Glen-U the Never-Mistaken, as\n have been his predecessors throughout the ages;—on this day did the\n Never-Mistaken Glen-U speak and say and observe a truth in the presence\n of the governors and the rulers of the universe.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson reflected sourly that the governors and the rulers of the\n universe were whoever happened to be within hearing of the Grand\n Panjandrum. They were not imposing. They were scared. Everybody is\n always scared under an absolute ruler, but the Grand Panjandrum was\n worse than that. He couldn't make a mistake. Whatever he said had to\n be true, because he said it, and sometimes it had drastic results. But\n past Grand Panjandrums had spoken highly of the trading post. Jorgenson\n shouldn't have much to worry about. He waited. He thought of Ganti. He\n scowled.\n\n\n \"The great and Never-Mistaken Glen-U,\" intoned the official again,\n \"in the presence of the governors and the rulers of the universe, did\n speak and say and observe that it is the desire of the Rim Star Trading\n Corporation to present to him, the great and never-mistaken Glen-U, all\n of the present possessions of the said Rim Stars Trading Corporation,\n and thereafter to remit to him all moneys, goods, and benefactions\n to and of the said Rim Stars Trading Corporation as they shall be\n received. The great and Never-Mistaken Glen-U did further speak and say\n and observe that anyone hindering this loyal and admirable gift must,\n by the operation of truth, vanish from sight and nevermore be seen face\n to face by any rational being.\"\nThe high official rolled up the scroll, while Jorgenson exploded inside.\nA part of this was reaction as a business man. A part was recognition\n of all the intolerable things that the Thrid took as a matter of\n course. If Jorgenson had reacted solely as a business man he'd have\n swallowed it, departed on the next Rim Stars trading-ship—which would\n not have left any trade-goods behind—and left the Grand Panjandrum to\n realize what he had lost when no off-planet goods arrived on Thriddar.\n In time he'd speak and say and observe that he, out of his generosity,\n gave the loot back. Then the trading could resume. But Jorgenson didn't\n feel only like a business man this morning. He thought of Ganti, who\n was a particular case of everything he disliked on Thriddar.\n\n\n It was not wise to be moved by such sympathetic feelings. The Grand\n Panjandrum could not be mistaken. It was definitely unwise to\n contradict him. It could even be dangerous. Jorgenson was in a nasty\n spot.\n\n\n The Witnesses murmured reverently:\n\n\n \"We hear the words of the Never-Mistaken Glen-U.\"\n\n\n The high official tucked away the scroll and said blandly:\n\n\n \"I will receive the moneys, goods, and benefactions it is the desire\n of the Rim Stars Trading Corporation to present to the great and\n Never-Mistaken Glen-U.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson, boiling inside, nevertheless knew what he was doing. He said\n succinctly:\n\n\n \"Like hell you will!\"\n\n\n There was an idiom in Thrid speech that had exactly the meaning of the\n human phrase. Jorgenson used it.\n\n\n The high official looked at him in utter stupefaction. Nobody\n contradicted the Grand Panjandrum! Nobody! The Thrid had noticed long\n ago that they were the most intelligent race in the universe. Since\n that was so, obviously they must have the most perfect government.\n But no government could be perfect if its officials made mistakes. So\n no Thrid official ever made a mistake. In particular the great and\n Never-Mistaken Glen-U could not conceivably blunder! When he said a\n thing, it was true! It had to be! He'd said it! And this was the\n fundamental fact in the culture of the Thrid.\n\n\n \"Like hell you'll receive moneys and goods and such!\" snapped\n Jorgenson. \"Like hell you will!\"\n\n\n The high official literally couldn't believe his ears.\n\n\n \"But—but the great and Never-Mistaken Glen-U—\"\n\n\n \"Is mistaken!\" said Jorgenson bitingly. \"He's wrong! The Rim Stars\n Trading Corporation does\nnot\nwant to give him anything! What he has\n said is not true!\" This was the equivalent of treason, blasphemy and\n the ultimate of indecorous behavior toward a virgin Pelean princess. \"I\n won't give him anything! I'm not even vanishing from sight! Glen-U is\n wrong about that, too! Now—git!\"\n\n\n He jerked out his blaster and pulled the trigger.\n\n\n There was an explosive burst of flame from the ground between the\n official and himself. The official fled. With him fled all the\n Witnesses, some even losing their headgear in their haste to get away.\nJorgenson stamped into the trading-post building. His eyes were stormy\n and his jaw was set.\n\n\n He snapped orders. The hired Thrid of the trading-post staff had not\n quite grasped the situation. They couldn't believe it. Automatically,\n as he commanded the iron doors and shutters of the trading post closed,\n they obeyed. They saw him turn on the shocker-field so that nobody\n could cross the compound without getting an electric shock that would\n discourage him. They began to believe.\n\n\n Then he sent for the trading-post Thrid consultant. On Earth he'd have\n called for a lawyer. On a hostile world there'd have been a soldier to\n advise him. On Thrid the specialist to be consulted wasn't exactly a\n theologian, but he was nearer that than anything else.\n\n\n Jorgenson laid the matter indignantly before him, repeating the exact\n phrases that said the trading company wanted—wanted!—practically to\n give itself to the Never-Mistaken Glen-U, who was the Grand Panjandrum\n of Thriddar. He waited to be told that it couldn't have happened; that\n anyhow it couldn't be intended. But the theologian's Thriddish ears\n went limp, which amounted to the same thing as a man's face turning\n pale. He stammered agitatedly that if the Grand Panjandrum said it, it\n was true. It couldn't be otherwise! If the trading company wanted to\n give itself to him, there was nothing to be done. It wanted to! The\n Grand Panjandrum had said so!\n\n\n \"He also said,\" said Jorgenson irritably, \"that I'm to vanish and\n nevermore be seen face to face by any rational being. How does that\n happen? Do I get speared?\"\n\n\n The trading-post theologian quivered. Jorgenson made things much worse.\n\n\n \"This,\" he raged, \"this is crazy! The Grand Panjandrum's an ordinary\n Thrid just like you are! Of course he can make a mistake! There's\n nobody who can't be wrong!\"\n\n\n The theologian put up feebly protesting, human-like hands. He begged\n hysterically to be allowed to go home before Jorgenson vanished, with\n unknown consequences for any Thrid who might be nearby.\n\n\n When Jorgenson opened a door to kick him out of it, the whole staff of\n the trading-post plunged after him. They'd been eavesdropping and they\n fled in pure horror.\n\n\n Jorgenson swore impartially at all of them and turned the shocker-field\n back on. He plugged in a capacity circuit which would turn on warning\n sirens if anything like a steam-driven copter passed or hovered over\n the trading-post. He put blasters in handy positions. The Thrid used\n only spears, knives and scimitars. Blasters would defend the post\n against a multitude.\n\n\n As a business man, he'd acted very foolishly. But he'd acted even less\n sensibly as a human being. He'd gotten fed up with a social system\n and a—call it—theology it wasn't his business to change. True, the\n Thrid way of life was appalling, and what had happened to Ganti was\n probably typical. But it wasn't Jorgenson's affair. He'd been unwise to\n let it disturb him. If the Thrid wanted things this way, it was their\n privilege.\n\n\n In theory, no Thrid should ever make a mistake, because he belonged\n to the most intelligent race in the universe. But a local governor\n was even more intelligent. If an ordinary Thrid challenged a local\n governor's least and lightest remark—why—he must be either a criminal\n or insane. The local governor decided—correctly, of course—which\n he was. If he was a criminal, he spent the rest of his life in a gang\n of criminals chained together and doing the most exhausting labor the\n Thrid could contrive. If he was mad, he was confined for life.\nThere'd been Ganti, a Thrid of whom Jorgenson had had much hope. He\n believed that Ganti could learn to run the trading post without human\n supervision. If he could, the trading company could simply bring trade\n goods to Thriddar and take away other trade goods. The cost of doing\n business would be decreased. There could be no human-Thrid friction.\n Jorgenson had been training Ganti for this work.\n\n\n But the local Thrid governor had spoken and said and observed that\n Ganti's wife wanted to enter his household. He added that Ganti wanted\n to yield her to him.\n\n\n Jorgenson had fumed—but not as a business man—when the transfer took\n place. But Ganti had been conditioned to believe that when a governor\n said he wanted to do something, he did. He couldn't quite grasp the\n contrary idea. But he moped horribly, and Jorgenson talked sardonically\n to him, and he almost doubted that an official was necessarily right.\n When his former wife died of grief, his disbelief became positive. And\n immediately afterward he disappeared.\n\n\n Jorgenson couldn't find out what had become of him. Dour reflection on\n the happening had put him in the bad mood which had started things,\n this morning.\n\n\n Time passed. He had the trading-post in a position of defense. He\n prepared his lunch, and glowered. More time passed. He cooked his\n dinner, and ate. Afterward he went up on the trading-post roof to smoke\n and to coddle his anger. He observed the sunset. There was always some\n haze in the air on Thriddar, and the colorings were very beautiful. He\n could see the towers of the capital city of the Thrid. He could see a\n cumbersome but still graceful steam-driven aircraft descend heavily to\n the field at the city's edge. Later he saw another steam-plane rise\n slowly but reliably and head away somewhere else. He saw the steam\n helicopters go skittering above the city's buildings.\n\n\n He fumed because creatures intelligent enough to build steam fliers\n weren't intelligent enough to see what a racket their government was.\n Now that the new Grand Panjandrum had moved against him, Jorgenson made\n an angry, dogged resolution to do something permanent to make matters\n better. For the Thrid themselves. Here he thought not as a business\n man only, but as a humanitarian. As both. When a whim of the Grand\n Panjandrum could ruin a business, something should be done. And when\n Ganti and countless others had been victims of capricious tyranny....\n And Jorgenson was slated to vanish from sight and never again be\n seen.... It definitely called for strong measures!\n\n\n He reflected with grim pleasure that the Grand Panjandrum would soon\n be in the position of a Thrid whom everybody knew was mistaken. With\n the trading-post denied him and Jorgenson still visible, he'd be\n notoriously wrong. And he couldn't be, and still be Grand Panjandrum!\n\n\n It would be a nice situation for Glen-U. He'd have to do something\n about it, and there was nothing he could do. He'd blundered, and it\n would soon be public knowledge.\n\n\n Jorgenson dozed lightly. Then more heavily. Then more heavily still.\n The night was not two hours old when the warning sirens made a terrific\n uproar. The Thrid for miles around heard the wailing, ullulating sound\n of the sirens that should have awakened Jorgenson.\n\n\n But they didn't wake him. He slept on.\nWhen he woke, he knew that he was cold. His muscles were cramped. Half\n awake, he tried to move and could not.\n\n\n Then he tried to waken fully, and he couldn't do that either. He stayed\n in a dream-like, frustrated state which was partly like a nightmare,\n while very gradually new sensations came to him. He felt a cushioned\n throbbing against his chest, in the very hard surface on which he lay\n face down. That surface swayed and rocked slightly. He tried again to\n move, and realized that his hands and feet were bound. He found that he\n shivered, and realized that his clothing had been taken from him.\n\n\n He was completely helpless and lying on his stomach in the cargo-space\n of a steam helicopter: now he could hear the sound of its machinery.\n\n\n Then he knew what had happened. He'd committed The unthinkable\n crime—or lunacy—of declaring the Grand Panjandrum mistaken. So by the\n operation of truth, which was really an anesthetic gas cloud drifted\n over the trading post, he had vanished from sight.\n\n\n Now it was evidently to be arranged that he would never again be seen\n face to face by a rational being. The Grand Panjandrum had won the\n argument. Within a few months a Rim Stars trading ship would land, and\n Jorgenson would be gone and the trading post confiscated. It would be\n hopeless to ask questions, and worse than hopeless to try to trade. So\n the ship would lift off and there'd be no more ships for at least a\n generation. Then there might—there might!—be another.\n\n\n Jorgenson swore fluently and with passion.\n\n\n \"It will not be long,\" said a tranquil voice.\n\n\n Jorgenson changed from human-speech profanity to Thrid. He directed\n his words to the unseen creature who'd spoken. That Thrid listened,\n apparently without emotion. When Jorgenson ran out of breath, the voice\n said severely:\n\n\n \"You declared the great and Never-Mistaken Glen-U mistaken. This could\n not be. It proved you either a criminal or insane, because no rational\n creature could believe him mistaken. He declared you insane, and he\n cannot be wrong. So soon you will arrive where you are to be confined\n and no rational being will ever see you face to face.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson switched back to human swearing. Then he blended both\n languages, using all the applicable words he knew both in human speech\n and Thrid. He knew a great many. The soft throbbing of the steam-driven\n rotors went on, and Jorgenson swore both as a business man and a\n humanitarian. Both were frustrated.\n\n\n Presently the motion of the copter changed. He knew the ship was\n descending. There were more violent swayings, as if from wind gusts\n deflected by something large and solid. Jorgenson even heard deep-bass\n rumblings like sea upon a rocky coast. Then there were movements near\n him, a rope went around his waist, a loading-bay opened and he found\n himself lifted and lowered through it.\nHe dangled in midair, a couple of hundred feet above an utterly barren\n island on which huge ocean swells beat. The downdraft from the copter\n made him sway wildly, and once it had him spinning dizzily. The horizon\n was empty. He was being lowered swiftly to the island. And his hands\n and feet were still securely tied.\n\n\n Then he saw a figure on the island. It was a Thrid stripped of all\n clothing like Jorgenson and darkened by the sun. That figure came\n agilely toward where he was let down. It caught him. It checked his\n wild swingings, which could have broken bones. The rope slackened. The\n Thrid laid Jorgenson down.\n\n\n He did not cast off the rope. He seemed to essay to climb it.\n\n\n It was cut at the steam-copter and came tumbling down all over both of\n them. The Thrid waved his arms wildly and seemed to screech gibberish\n at the sky. There was an impact nearby, of something dropped. Jorgenson\n heard the throbbing sound of the copter as it lifted and swept away.\n\n\n Then he felt the bounds about his arms and legs being removed. Then a\n Thrid voice—amazingly, a familiar Thrid voice—said:\n\n\n \"This is not good, Jorgenson. Who did you contradict?\"\n\n\n The Thrid was Ganti, of whom Jorgenson had once had hopes as a business\n man, and for whose disaster he had felt indignation as something else.\n He loosened the last of Jorgenson's bonds and helped him sit up.\n\n\n Jorgenson glared around. The island was roughly one hundred feet by\n two. It was twisted, curdled yellow stone from one end to the other.\n There were stone hillocks and a miniature stony peak, and a narrow\n valley between two patches of higher rock. Huge seas boomed against\n the windward shore, throwing spray higher than the island's topmost\n point. There were some places where sand had gathered. There was one\n spot—perhaps a square yard of it—where sand had been made fertile by\n the droppings of flying things and where two or three starveling plants\n showed foliage of sorts. That was all. Jorgenson ground his teeth.\n\n\n \"Go ahead,\" said Ganti grimly, \"but it may be even worse than you\n think.\"\n\n\n He scrambled over the twisted stone of the island. He came back,\n carrying something.\n\n\n \"It isn't worse,\" he said. \"It's only as bad. They did drop food and\n water for both of us. I wasn't sure they would.\"\nHis calmness sobered Jorgenson. As a business man, he was moved to make\n his situation clear. He told Ganti of the Grand Panjandrum's move to\n take over the Rim Stars trading post, which was bad business. He told\n of his own reaction, which was not a business-like one at all. Then he\n said dourly:\n\n\n \"But he's still wrong. No rational being is supposed ever to see me\n face to face. But you do.\"\n\n\n \"But I'm crazy,\" said Ganti calmly. \"I tried to kill the governor\n who'd taken my wife. So he said I was crazy and that made it true. So\n I wasn't put in a chained group of laborers. Somebody might have seen\n me and thought about it. But, sent here, it's worse for me and I'm\n probably forgotten by now.\"\n\n\n He was calm about it. Only a Thrid would have been so calm. But they've\n had at least hundreds of generations in which to get used to injustice.\n He accepted it. But Jorgenson frowned.\n\n\n \"You've got brains, Ganti. What's the chance of escape?\"\n\n\n \"None,\" said Ganti unemotionally. \"You'd better get out of the sun.\n It'll burn you badly. Come along.\"\n\n\n He led the way over the bare, scorching rocky surface. He turned past a\n small pinnacle. There was shadow. Jorgenson crawled into it, and found\n himself in a cave. It was not a natural one. It had been hacked out,\n morsel by morsel. It was cool inside. It was astonishingly roomy.\n\n\n \"How'd this happen?\" demanded Jorgenson the business man.\n\n\n \"This is a prison,\" Ganti explained matter-of-factly. \"They let me\n down here and dropped food and water for a week. They went away. I\n found there'd been another prisoner here before me. His skeleton was in\n this cave. I reasoned it out. There must have been others before him.\n When there is a prisoner here, every so often a copter drops food and\n water. When the prisoner doesn't pick it up, they stop coming. When,\n presently, they have another prisoner they drop him off, like me, and\n he finds the skeleton of the previous prisoner, like me, and he dumps\n it overboard as I did. They'll drop food and water for me until I stop\n picking it up. And presently they'll do the same thing all over again.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson glowered. That was his reaction as a person. Then he gestured\n to the cave around him. There was a pile of dried-out seaweed for\n sleeping purposes.\n\n\n \"And this?\"\n\n\n \"Somebody dug it out,\" said Ganti without resentment. \"To keep busy.\n Maybe one prisoner only began it. A later one saw it started and worked\n on it to keep busy. Then others in their turn. It took a good many\n lives to make this cave.\"\n\n\n Jorgenson ground his teeth a second time.\n\n\n \"And just because they'd contradicted somebody who couldn't be wrong!\n Or because they had a business an official wanted!\"\n\n\n \"Or a wife,\" agreed Ganti. \"Here!\"\n\n\n He offered food. Jorgenson ate, scowling. Afterward, near sundown, he\n went over the island.\n\n\n It was rock, nothing else. There was a pile of small broken stones from\n the excavation of the cave. There were the few starveling plants. There\n was the cordage with which Jorgenson had been lowered. There was the\n parcel containing food and water. Ganti observed that the plastic went\n to pieces in a week or so, so it couldn't be used for anything. There\n was nothing to escape with. Nothing to make anything to escape with.\n\n\n Even the dried seaweed bed was not comfortable. Jorgenson slept badly\n and waked with aching muscles. Ganti assured him unemotionally that\n he'd get used to it.\n\n\n He did. By the time the copter came to drop food and water again,\n Jorgenson was physically adjusted to the island. But neither as a\n business man or as a person could he adjust to hopelessness.\n\n\n He racked his brains for the most preposterous or faintest hope of\n deliverance. There were times when as a business man he reproached\n himself for staying on Thriddar after he became indignant with the way\n the planet was governed. It was very foolish. But much more often he\n felt such hatred of the manners and customs of the Thrid—which had\n put him here—that it seemed that something must somehow be possible if\n only so he could take revenge.\nIII\n\n\n The copter came, it dropped food and water, and it went away. It came,\n dropped food and water, and went away. Once a water-bag burst when\n dropped. They lost nearly half a week's water supply. Before the copter\n came again they'd gone two days without drinking.\n\n\n There were other incidents, of course. The dried seaweed they slept on\n turned to powdery trash. They got more seaweed hauling long kelp-like\n strands of it ashore from where it clung to the island's submerged\n rocks. Ganti mentioned that they must do it right after the copter\n came, so there would be no sign of enterprise to be seen from aloft.\n The seaweed had long, flexible stems of which no use whatever could be\n made. When it dried, it became stiff and brittle but without strength.\n\n\n Once Ganti abruptly began to talk of his youth. As if he were examining\n something he'd never noticed before, he told of the incredible\n conditioning-education of the young members of his race. They learned\n that they must never make a mistake. Never! It did not matter if they\n were unskilled or inefficient. It did not matter if they accomplished\n nothing. There was no penalty for anything but making mistakes or\n differing from officials who could not make mistakes.\n\n\n So Thrid younglings were trained not to think; not to have any opinion\n about anything; only to repeat what nobody questioned; only to do what\n they were told by authority. It occurred to Jorgenson that on a planet\n with such a population, a skeptic could make a great deal of confusion.\n\n\n Then, another time, Jorgenson decided to make use of the weathering\n cord which had been cut from the copter when he was landed. He cut\n off a part of it with a sharp-edged fragment of stone from the pile\n some former prisoner on the island had made. He unravelled the twisted\n fibers. Then he ground fishhooks from shells attached to the island's\n rocky walls just below water-line. After that they fished. Sometimes\n they even caught something to eat. But they never fished when the\n copter was due.\n\n\n Jorgenson found that a fish-fillet, strongly squeezed and wrung like a\n wet cloth, would yield a drinkable liquid which was not salt and would\n substitute for water. And this was a reason to make a string bag in\n which caught fish could be let back into the sea so they were there\n when wanted but could not escape.\n\n\n They had used it for weeks when he saw Ganti, carrying it to place it\n where they left it overboard, swinging it idly back and forth as he\n walked.\nIf Jorgenson had been only a businessman, it would have had no\n particular meaning. But he was also a person, filled with hatred of\n the Thrid who had condemned him for life to this small island. He saw\n the swinging of the fish. It gave him an idea.\n\n\n He did not speak at all during all the rest of that day. He was\n thinking. The matter needed much thought. Ganti left him alone.\n\n\n But by sunset he'd worked it out. While they watched Thrid's red sun\n sink below the horizon, Jorgenson said thoughtfully:\n\n\n \"There is a way to escape, Ganti.\"\n\n\n \"On what? In what?\" demanded Ganti.\n\n\n \"In the helicopter that feeds us,\" said Jorgenson.\n\n\n \"It never lands,\" said Ganti practically.\n\n\n \"We can make it land,\" said Jorgenson. Thrid weren't allowed to make\n mistakes; he could make it a mistake not to land.\n\n\n \"The crew is armed,\" said Ganti. \"There are three of them.\"\n\n\n \"They've only knives and scimitars,\" said Jorgenson. \"They don't count.\n We can make better weapons than they have.\"\n\n\n Ganti looked skeptical. Jorgenson explained. He had to demonstrate\n crudely. The whole idea was novel to Ganti, but the Thrid were smart.\n Presently he grasped it. He said:\n\n\n \"I see the theory. If we can make it work, all right. But how do we\n make the copter land?\"\n\n\n Jorgenson realized that they talked oddly. They spoke with leisurely\n lack of haste, with the lack of hope normal to prisoners to whom escape\n is impossible, even when they talk about escape. They could have been\n discussing a matter that would not affect either of them. But Jorgenson\n quivered inside. He hoped.\n\n\n \"We'll try it,\" said Ganti detachedly, when he'd explained again. \"If\n it fails, they'll only stop giving us food and water.\"\n\n\n That, of course, did not seem either to him or Jorgenson a reason to\n hesitate to try what Jorgenson had planned.\n\n\n It was not at all a direct and forthright scheme. It began with the\n untwisting of more of the rope that had lowered Jorgenson. It went on\n with the making of string from that fiber. They made a great deal of\n string. Then, very clumsily and awkwardly, they wove strips of cloth,\n a couple of inches wide and five or six long. They made light strong\n cords extend from the ends of the cloth strips. Then they practiced\n with these bits of cloth and the broken stones a former prisoner had\n piled so neatly.\n\n\n The copter came and dropped food and water. When it left, they\n practiced. When it came again they were not practicing, but when it\n went away they practiced. They were a naked man and a naked Thrid,\n left upon a morsel of rock in a boundless sea, rehearsing themselves\n in an art so long-forgotten that they had to reinvent the finer parts\n of the technique. They experimented. They tried this. They tried that.\n When the copter appeared, they showed themselves. They rushed upon the\n dropped bag containing food and water as if fiercely trying to deny\n each other a full share. Once they seemed to fight over the dropped\n bag. The copter hovered to watch. The fight seemed furious and deadly,\n but inconclusive.\n\n\n When the copter went away Jorgenson and Ganti went briskly back to\n their practicing.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is Jorgenson's internal conflict at the beginning of the story?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_1", "options": ["He wants to leave Thriddar, but his business is too lucrative for him to abandon", "He wants to give his trading post to the Grand Pajandrum, but if he does he risks losing his friendship with Ganti", "He wants to make money from the Thrid, but doing so means he must condemn his friend Ganti", "He wants to act like a rational businessman but he feels angry at the injustices of Thriddar's society"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is the Grand Panjandrum called the Never-Mistaken?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_2", "options": ["He is never mistaken because he is a totalitarian ruler who uses force to get what he wants", "He is never mistaken because he refuses to speak, so he can never utter something untrue", "The title Never-Mistaken is just a formality to show how much wisdom the leader has", "He is never mistaken because he has supernatural powers that allow him to see into the future"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Jorgenson contradict the Grand Panajandrum?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_3", "options": ["He contradicts him because he thinks the Grand Panjandrum is just joking around", "He contradicts him by accident because he does not know Thrid's culture well", "He contradicts him because he simply can't abide the injustice of the situation, despite knowing that he will face negative consequences", "He contradicts him because he is already scheduled to leave the planet that day so it doesn't matter if he angers the Thrid's leader"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do the Thrid view their leader?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_4", "options": ["They view their leader as flawed, but competent ruler", "They view their leader is infallible", "They view their leader as an unjust tyrant", "They view their leader as a fool"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the best adjective to describe Thriddar's society?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_5", "options": ["Libertarian", "Feudal", "Authoritarian", "Democratic"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Ganti allow the governor to steal his wife?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_6", "options": ["He doesn't really care much about his wife", "He thinks that the governor will give him a promotion", "He thinks that his wife will be happier with the governor", "He thinks that the governor cannot be wrong"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the Grand Panjandrum punish Jorgenson?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_7", "options": ["He banishes him to a deserted island with no other inhabitants", "He kills him with a ceremonial spear", "He exiles him to a deserted island with one other prisoner", "He sends him to an overcrowded prison"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Jorgenson allowed to speak to Ganti?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_8", "options": ["Ganti is his court-designated lawyer", "Ganti is a theologian, so he is supposed to re-educate Jorgenson to believe in the Thrid's religion", "Ganti has also disobeyed orders, so he is not considered a rational creature", "Ganti has lost his mind on the island, so he is not considered a rational creature"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the most important value in Thrid culture?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_9", "options": ["Obedience", "Honesty", "Kindness", "Courage"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What will happen if Jorgenson and Ganti's plan fails?", "question_unique_id": "61430_R8T5MKW8_10", "options": ["They will commit suicide together", "They will fight each other to the death ", "They will beg for forgiveness and be accepted back into Thrid's society", "They will starve to death from a lack of supplies"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/3/61430//61430-h//61430-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "52855", "set_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1011", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Star-Sent Knaves", "year": 1955, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "Science fiction; PS", "article": "THE STAR-SENT KNAVES\nBY KEITH LAUMER\n\n\n Illustrated by Gaughan\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of Tomorrow June 1963\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWhen the Great Galactic Union first encounters\n\n Earth ... is this what is going to happen?\nI\n\n\n Clyde W. Snithian was a bald eagle of a man, dark-eyed, pot-bellied,\n with the large, expressive hands of a rug merchant. Round-shouldered\n in a loose cloak, he blinked small reddish eyes at Dan Slane's\n travel-stained six foot one.\n\n\n \"Kelly here tells me you've been demanding to see me.\" He nodded toward\n the florid man at his side. He had a high, thin voice, like something\n that needed oiling. \"Something about important information regarding\n safeguarding my paintings.\"\n\n\n \"That's right, Mr. Snithian,\" Dan said. \"I believe I can be of great\n help to you.\"\n\n\n \"Help how? If you've got ideas of bilking me....\" The red eyes bored\n into Dan like hot pokers.\n\n\n \"Nothing like that, sir. Now, I know you have quite a system of guards\n here—the papers are full of it—\"\n\n\n \"Damned busybodies! Sensation-mongers! If it wasn't for the press,\n I'd have no concern for my paintings today!\"\n\n\n \"Yes sir. But my point is, the one really important spot has been left\n unguarded.\"\n\n\n \"Now, wait a minute—\" Kelly started.\n\n\n \"What's that?\" Snithian cut in.\n\n\n \"You have a hundred and fifty men guarding the house and grounds day\n and night—\"\n\n\n \"Two hundred and twenty-five,\" Kelly snapped.\n\n\n \"—but no one at all in the vault with the paintings,\" Slane finished.\n\n\n \"Of course not,\" Snithian shrilled. \"Why should I post a man in the\n vault? It's under constant surveillance from the corridor outside.\"\n\n\n \"The Harriman paintings were removed from a locked vault,\" Dan said.\n \"There was a special seal on the door. It wasn't broken.\"\n\n\n \"By the saints, he's right,\" Kelly exclaimed. \"Maybe we ought to have a\n man in that vault.\"\n\n\n \"Another idiotic scheme to waste my money,\" Snithian snapped. \"I've\n made you responsible for security here, Kelly! Let's have no more\n nonsense. And throw this nincompoop out!\" Snithian turned and stalked\n away, his cloak flapping at his knees.\n\n\n \"I'll work cheap,\" Dan called after him as Kelly took his arm. \"I'm an\n art lover.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind that,\" Kelly said, escorting Dan along the corridor. He\n turned in at an office and closed the door.\n\n\n \"Now, as the old buzzard said, I'm responsible for security here. If\n those pictures go, my job goes with them. Your vault idea's not bad.\n Just how cheap would you work?\"\n\n\n \"A hundred dollars a week,\" Dan said promptly. \"Plus expenses,\" he\n added.\n\n\n Kelly nodded. \"I'll fingerprint you and run a fast agency check. If\n you're clean, I'll put you on, starting tonight. But keep it quiet.\"\nDan looked around at the gray walls, with shelves stacked to the low\n ceiling with wrapped paintings. Two three-hundred-watt bulbs shed a\n white glare over the tile floor, a neat white refrigerator, a bunk,\n an arm-chair, a bookshelf and a small table set with paper plates,\n plastic utensils and a portable radio—all hastily installed at Kelly's\n order. Dan opened the refrigerator, looked over the stock of salami,\n liverwurst, cheese and beer. He opened a loaf of bread, built up a\n well-filled sandwich, keyed open a can of beer.\n\n\n It wasn't fancy, but it would do. Phase one of the plan had gone off\n without a hitch.\n\n\n Basically, his idea was simple. Art collections had been disappearing\n from closely guarded galleries and homes all over the world. It was\n obvious that no one could enter a locked vault, remove a stack of large\n canvases and leave, unnoticed by watchful guards—and leaving the locks\n undamaged.\n\n\n Yet the paintings were gone. Someone had been in those vaults—someone\n who hadn't entered in the usual way.\n\n\n Theory failed at that point; that left the experimental method. The\n Snithian collection was the largest west of the Mississippi. With\n such a target, the thieves were bound to show up. If Dan sat in the\n vault—day and night—waiting—he would see for himself how they\n operated.\n\n\n He finished his sandwich, went to the shelves and pulled down one of\n the brown-paper bundles. Loosening the string binding the package, he\n slid a painting into view. It was a gaily colored view of an open-air\n cafe, with a group of men and women in gay-ninetyish costumes gathered\n at a table. He seemed to remember reading something about it in a\n magazine. It was a cheerful scene; Dan liked it. Still, it hardly\n seemed worth all the effort....\n\n\n He went to the wall switch and turned off the lights. The orange glow\n of the filaments died, leaving only a faint illumination from the\n night-light over the door. When the thieves arrived, it might give him\n a momentary advantage if his eyes were adjusted to the dark. He groped\n his way to the bunk.\n\n\n So far, so good, he reflected, stretching out. When they showed up,\n he'd have to handle everything just right. If he scared them off\n there'd be no second chance. He would have lost his crack at—whatever\n his discovery might mean to him.\n\n\n But he was ready. Let them come.\nEight hours, three sandwiches and six beers later, Dan roused suddenly\n from a light doze and sat up on the cot. Between him and the crowded\n shelving, a palely luminous framework was materializing in mid-air.\n\n\n The apparition was an open-work cage—about the size and shape of an\n out-house minus the sheathing, Dan estimated breathlessly. Two figures\n were visible within the structure, sitting stiffly in contoured chairs.\n They glowed, if anything, more brightly than the framework.\n\n\n A faint sound cut into the stillness—a descending whine. The cage\n moved jerkily, settling toward the floor. Long blue sparks jumped,\n crackling, to span the closing gap; with a grate of metal, the cage\n settled against the floor. The spectral men reached for ghostly\n switches....\n\n\n The glow died.\n\n\n Dan was aware of his heart thumping painfully under his ribs. His mouth\n was dry. This was the moment he'd been planning for, but now that it\n was here—\n\n\n Never mind. He took a deep breath, ran over the speeches he had\n prepared for the occasion:\nGreeting, visitors from the Future....\nHopelessly corny. What about:\nWelcome to the Twentieth Century....\nNo good; it lacked spontaneity. The men were rising, their backs to\n Dan, stepping out of the skeletal frame. In the dim light it now\n looked like nothing more than a rough frame built of steel pipe, with\n a cluster of levers in a console before the two seats. And the thieves\n looked ordinary enough: Two men in gray coveralls, one slender and\n balding, the other shorter and round-faced. Neither of them noticed\n Dan, sitting rigid on the cot. The thin man placed a lantern on the\n table, twiddled a knob. A warm light sprang up. The visitors looked at\n the stacked shelves.\n\n\n \"Looks like the old boy's been doing all right,\" the shorter man said.\n \"Fathead's gonna be pleased.\"\n\n\n \"A very gratifying consignment,\" his companion said. \"However, we'd\n best hurry, Manny. How much time have we left on this charge?\"\n\n\n \"Plenty. Fifteen minutes anyway.\"\n\n\n The thin man opened a package, glanced at a painting.\n\n\n \"Ah, magnificent. Almost the equal of Picasso in his puce period.\"\n\n\n Manny shuffled through the other pictures in the stack.\n\n\n \"Like always,\" he grumbled. \"No nood dames. I like nood dames.\"\n\n\n \"Look at this, Manny! The textures alone—\"\n\n\n Manny looked. \"Yeah, nice use of values,\" he conceded. \"But I still\n prefer nood dames, Fiorello.\"\n\n\n \"And this!\" Fiorello lifted the next painting. \"Look at that gay play\n of rich browns!\"\n\n\n \"I seen richer browns on Thirty-third Street,\" Manny said. \"They was\n popular with the sparrows.\"\n\n\n \"Manny, sometimes I think your aspirations—\"\n\n\n \"Whatta ya talkin? I use a roll-on.\" Manny, turning to place a painting\n in the cage, stopped dead as he caught sight of Dan. The painting\n clattered to the floor. Dan stood, cleared his throat. \"Uh....\"\n\n\n \"Oh-oh,\" Manny said. \"A double-cross.\"\n\n\n \"I've—ah—been expecting you gentlemen,\" Dan said. \"I—\"\n\n\n \"I told you we couldn't trust no guy with nine fingers on each hand,\"\n Manny whispered hoarsely. He moved toward the cage. \"Let's blow,\n Fiorello.\"\n\n\n \"Wait a minute,\" Dan said. \"Before you do anything hasty—\"\n\n\n \"Don't start nothing, Buster,\" Manny said cautiously. \"We're plenty\n tough guys when aroused.\"\n\n\n \"I want to talk to you,\" Dan insisted. \"You see, these paintings—\"\n\n\n \"Paintings? Look, it was all a mistake. Like, we figured this was the\n gent's room—\"\n\n\n \"Never mind, Manny,\" Fiorello cut in. \"It appears there's been a leak.\"\n\n\n Dan shook his head. \"No leak. I simply deduced—\"\n\n\n \"Look, Fiorello,\" Manny said. \"You chin if you want to; I'm doing a\n fast fade.\"\n\n\n \"Don't act hastily, Manny. You know where you'll end.\"\n\n\n \"Wait a minute!\" Dan shouted. \"I'd like to make a deal with you\n fellows.\"\n\n\n \"Ah-hah!\" Kelly's voice blared from somewhere. \"I knew it! Slane, you\n crook!\"\nDan looked about wildly. The voice seemed to be issuing from a speaker.\n It appeared Kelly hedged his bets.\n\n\n \"Mr. Kelly, I can explain everything!\" Dan called. He turned back to\n Fiorello. \"Listen, I figured out—\"\n\n\n \"Pretty clever!\" Kelly's voice barked. \"Inside job. But it takes more\n than the likes of you to out-fox an old-timer like Eddie Kelly.\"\n\n\n \"Perhaps you were right, Manny,\" Fiorello said. \"Complications are\n arising. We'd best depart with all deliberate haste.\" He edged toward\n the cage.\n\n\n \"What about this ginzo?\" Manny jerked a thumb toward Dan. \"He's on to\n us.\"\n\n\n \"Can't be helped.\"\n\n\n \"Look—I want to go with you!\" Dan shouted.\n\n\n \"I'll bet you do!\" Kelly's voice roared. \"One more minute and I'll have\n the door open and collar the lot of you! Came up through a tunnel, did\n you?\"\n\n\n \"You can't go, my dear fellow,\" Fiorello said. \"Room for two, no more.\"\n\n\n Dan whirled to the cot, grabbed up the pistol Kelly had supplied. He\n aimed it at Manny. \"You stay here, Manny! I'm going with Fiorello in\n the time machine.\"\n\n\n \"Are you nuts?\" Manny demanded.\n\n\n \"I'm flattered, dear boy,\" Fiorello said, \"but—\"\n\n\n \"Let's get moving. Kelly will have that lock open in a minute.\"\n\n\n \"You can't leave me here!\" Manny spluttered, watching Dan crowd into\n the cage beside Fiorello.\n\n\n \"We'll send for you,\" Dan said. \"Let's go, Fiorello.\"\n\n\n The balding man snatched suddenly for the gun. Dan wrestled with him.\n The pistol fell, bounced on the floor of the cage, skidded into the\n far corner of the vault. Manny charged, reaching for Dan as he twisted\n aside; Fiorello's elbow caught him in the mouth. Manny staggered back\n into the arms of Kelly, bursting red-faced into the vault.\n\n\n \"Manny!\" Fiorello released his grip on Dan, lunged to aid his\n companion. Kelly passed Manny to one of three cops crowding in on his\n heels. Dan clung to the framework as Fiorello grappled with Kelly. A\n cop pushed past them, spotted Dan, moved in briskly for the pinch. Dan\n grabbed a lever at random and pulled.\n\n\n Sudden silence fell as the walls of the room glowed blue. A spectral\n Kelly capered before the cage, fluorescing in the blue-violet. Dan\n swallowed hard and nudged a second lever. The cage sank like an\n elevator into the floor, vivid blue washing up its sides.\n\n\n Hastily he reversed the control. Operating a time machine was tricky\n business. One little slip, and the Slane molecules would be squeezing\n in among brick and mortar particles....\n\n\n But this was no time to be cautious. Things hadn't turned out just the\n way he'd planned, but after all, this was what he'd wanted—in a way.\n The time machine was his to command. And if he gave up now and crawled\n back into the vault, Kelly would gather him in and pin every art theft\n of the past decade on him.\n\n\n It couldn't be\ntoo\nhard. He'd take it slowly, figure out the\n controls....\nDan took a deep breath and tried another lever. The cage rose gently,\n in eerie silence. It reached the ceiling and kept going. Dan gritted\n his teeth as an eight-inch band of luminescence passed down the cage.\n Then he was emerging into a spacious kitchen. A blue-haloed cook\n waddled to a luminous refrigerator, caught sight of Dan rising slowly\n from the floor, stumbled back, mouth open. The cage rose, penetrated a\n second ceiling. Dan looked around at a carpeted hall.\n\n\n Cautiously he neutralized the control lever. The cage came to rest an\n inch above the floor. As far as Dan could tell, he hadn't traveled so\n much as a minute into the past or future.\n\n\n He looked over the controls. There should be one labeled \"Forward\"\n and another labeled \"Back\", but all the levers were plain, unadorned\n black. They looked, Dan decided, like ordinary circuit-breaker type\n knife-switches. In fact, the whole apparatus had the appearance of\n something thrown together hastily from common materials. Still, it\n worked. So far he had only found the controls for maneuvering in the\n usual three dimensions, but the time switch was bound to be here\n somewhere....\n\n\n Dan looked up at a movement at the far end of the hall.\n\n\n A girl's head and shoulders appeared, coming up a spiral staircase. In\n another second she would see him, and give the alarm—and Dan needed\n a few moments of peace and quiet in which to figure out the controls.\n He moved a lever. The cage drifted smoothly sideways, sliced through\n the wall with a flurry of vivid blue light. Dan pushed the lever\n back. He was in a bedroom now, a wide chamber with flouncy curtains, a\n four-poster under a flowered canopy, a dressing table—\n\n\n The door opened and the girl stepped into the room. She was young. Not\n over eighteen, Dan thought—as nearly as he could tell with the blue\n light playing around her face. She had long hair tied with a ribbon,\n and long legs, neatly curved. She wore shorts and carried a tennis\n racquet in her left hand and an apple in her right. Her back to Dan and\n the cage, she tossed the racquet on a table, took a bite of the apple,\n and began briskly unbuttoning her shirt.\n\n\n Dan tried moving a lever. The cage edged toward the girl. Another;\n he rose gently. The girl tossed the shirt onto a chair and undid the\n zipper down the side of the shorts. Another lever; the cage shot toward\n the outer wall as the girl reached behind her back....\n\n\n Dan blinked at the flash of blue and looked down. He was hovering\n twenty feet above a clipped lawn.\n\n\n He looked at the levers. Wasn't it the first one in line that moved the\n cage ahead? He tried it, shot forward ten feet. Below, a man stepped\n out on the terrace, lit a cigarette, paused, started to turn his face\n up—\n\n\n Dan jabbed at a lever. The cage shot back through the wall. He was in a\n plain room with a depression in the floor, a wide window with a planter\n filled with glowing blue plants—\n\n\n The door opened. Even blue, the girl looked graceful as a deer as she\n took a last bite of the apple and stepped into the ten-foot-square\n sunken tub. Dan held his breath. The girl tossed the apple core aside,\n seemed to suddenly become aware of eyes on her, whirled—\n\n\n With a sudden lurch that threw Dan against the steel bars, the\n cage shot through the wall into the open air and hurtled off with\n an acceleration that kept him pinned, helpless. He groped for the\n controls, hauled at a lever. There was no change. The cage rushed\n on, rising higher. In the distance, Dan saw the skyline of a town,\n approaching with frightful speed. A tall office building reared up\n fifteen stories high. He was headed dead for it—\n\n\n He covered his ears, braced himself—\n\n\n With an abruptness that flung him against the opposite side of the\n cage, the machine braked, shot through the wall and slammed to a stop.\n Dan sank to the floor of the cage, breathing hard. There was a loud\nclick!\nand the glow faded.\n\n\n With a lunge, Dan scrambled out of the cage. He stood looking around at\n a simple brown-painted office, dimly lit by sunlight filtered through\n elaborate venetian blinds. There were posters on the wall, a potted\n plant by the door, a heap of framed paintings beside it, and at the far\n side of the room a desk. And behind the desk—Something.\nII\n\n\n Dan gaped at a head the size of a beachball, mounted on a torso like a\n hundred-gallon bag of water. Two large brown eyes blinked at him from\n points eight inches apart. Immense hands with too many fingers unfolded\n and reached to open a brown paper carton, dip in, then toss three\n peanuts, deliberately, one by one, into a gaping mouth that opened just\n above the brown eyes.\n\n\n \"Who're you?\" a bass voice demanded from somewhere near the floor.\n\n\n \"I'm ... I'm ... Dan Slane ... your honor.\"\n\n\n \"What happened to Manny and Fiorello?\"\n\n\n \"They—I—There was this cop. Kelly—\"\n\n\n \"Oh-oh.\" The brown eyes blinked deliberately. The many-fingered hands\n closed the peanut carton and tucked it into a drawer.\n\n\n \"Well, it was a sweet racket while it lasted,\" the basso voice said. \"A\n pity to terminate so happy an enterprise. Still....\" A noise like an\n amplified Bronx cheer issued from the wide mouth.\n\n\n \"How ... what...?\"\n\n\n \"The carrier returns here automatically when the charge drops below a\n critical value,\" the voice said. \"A necessary measure to discourage\n big ideas on the part of wisenheimers in my employ. May I ask how you\n happen to be aboard the carrier, by the way?\"\n\n\n \"I just wanted—I mean, after I figured out—that is, the police ... I\n went for help,\" Dan finished lamely.\n\n\n \"Help? Out of the picture, unfortunately. One must maintain one's\n anonymity, you'll appreciate. My operation here is under wraps at\n present. Ah, I don't suppose you brought any paintings?\"\n\n\n Dan shook his head. He was staring at the posters. His eyes,\n accustoming themselves to the gloom of the office, could now make out\n the vividly drawn outline of a creature resembling an alligator-headed\n giraffe rearing up above scarlet foliage. The next poster showed a face\n similar to the beachball behind the desk, with red circles painted\n around the eyes. The next was a view of a yellow volcano spouting fire\n into a black sky.\n\n\n \"Too bad.\" The words seemed to come from under the desk. Dan squinted,\n caught a glimpse of coiled purplish tentacles. He gulped and looked up\n to catch a brown eye upon him. Only one. The other seemed to be busily\n at work studying the ceiling.\n\n\n \"I hope,\" the voice said, \"that you ain't harboring no reactionary\n racial prejudices.\"\n\"Gosh, no,\" Dan reassured the eye. \"I'm crazy about—uh—\"\n\n\n \"Vorplischers,\" the voice said. \"From Vorplisch, or Vega, as you call\n it.\" The Bronx cheer sounded again. \"How I long to glimpse once more my\n native fens! Wherever one wanders, there's no pad like home.\"\n\n\n \"That reminds me,\" Dan said. \"I have to be running along now.\" He\n sidled toward the door.\n\n\n \"Stick around, Dan,\" the voice rumbled. \"How about a drink? I can\n offer you Chateau Neuf du Pape, '59, Romance Conte, '32, goat's milk,\n Pepsi—\"\n\n\n \"No, thanks.\"\n\n\n \"If you don't mind, I believe I'll have a Big Orange.\" The Vorplischer\n swiveled to a small refrigerator, removed an immense bottle fitted with\n a nipple and turned back to Dan. \"Now, I got a proposition which may be\n of some interest to you. The loss of Manny and Fiorello is a serious\n blow, but we may yet recoup the situation. You made the scene at a most\n opportune time. What I got in mind is, with those two clowns out of the\n picture, a vacancy exists on my staff, which you might well fill. How\n does that grab you?\"\n\n\n \"You mean you want me to take over operating the time machine?\"\n\n\n \"Time machine?\" The brown eyes blinked alternately. \"I fear some\n confusion exists. I don't quite dig the significance of the term.\"\n\n\n \"That thing,\" Dan jabbed a thumb toward the cage. \"The machine I came\n here in. You want me—\"\n\n\n \"Time machine,\" the voice repeated. \"Some sort of chronometer, perhaps?\"\n\n\n \"Huh?\"\n\n\n \"I pride myself on my command of the local idiom, yet I confess the\n implied concept snows me.\" The nine-fingered hands folded on the desk.\n The beachball head leaned forward interestedly. \"Clue me, Dan. What's a\n time machine?\"\n\n\n \"Well, it's what you use to travel through time.\"\n\n\n The brown eyes blinked in agitated alternation. \"Apparently I've loused\n up my investigation of the local cultural background. I had no idea\n you were capable of that sort of thing.\" The immense head leaned back,\n the wide mouth opening and closing rapidly. \"And to think I've been\n spinning my wheels collecting primitive 2-D art!\"\n\n\n \"But—don't you have a time machine? I mean, isn't that one?\"\n\n\n \"That? That's merely a carrier. Now tell me more about your time\n machines. A fascinating concept! My superiors will be delighted at\n this development—and astonished as well. They regard this planet as\n Endsville.\"\n\"Your superiors?\" Dan eyed the window; much too far to jump. Maybe he\n could reach the machine and try a getaway—\n\n\n \"I hope you're not thinking of leaving suddenly,\" the beachball said,\n following Dan's glance. One of the eighteen fingers touched a six-inch\n yellow cylinder lying on the desk. \"Until the carrier is fueled, I'm\n afraid it's quite useless. But, to put you in the picture, I'd best\n introduce myself and explain my mission here. I'm Blote, Trader Fourth\n Class, in the employ of the Vegan Confederation. My job is to develop\n new sources of novelty items for the impulse-emporiums of the entire\n Secondary Quadrant.\"\n\n\n \"But the way Manny and Fiorello came sailing in through the wall! That\nhas\nto be a time machine they were riding in. Nothing else could just\n materialize out of thin air like that.\"\n\n\n \"You seem to have a time-machine fixation, Dan,\" Blote said. \"You\n shouldn't assume, just because you people have developed time travel,\n that everyone has. Now—\" Blote's voice sank to a bass whisper—\"I'll\n make a deal with you, Dan. You'll secure a small time machine in good\n condition for me. And in return—\"\n\n\n \"\nI'm\nsupposed to supply\nyou\nwith a time machine?\"\n\n\n Blote waggled a stubby forefinger at Dan. \"I dislike pointing it out,\n Dan, but you are in a rather awkward position at the moment. Illegal\n entry, illegal possession of property, trespass—then doubtless some\n embarrassment exists back at the Snithian residence. I daresay Mr.\n Kelly would have a warm welcome for you. And, of course, I myself would\n deal rather harshly with any attempt on your part to take a powder.\"\n The Vegan flexed all eighteen fingers, drummed his tentacles under the\n desk, and rolled one eye, bugging the other at Dan.\n\n\n \"Whereas, on the other hand,\" Blote's bass voice went on, \"you and me\n got the basis of a sweet deal. You supply the machine, and I fix you up\n with an abundance of the local medium of exchange. Equitable enough, I\n should say. What about it, Dan?\"\n\n\n \"Ah, let me see,\" Dan temporized. \"Time machine. Time machine—\"\n\n\n \"Don't attempt to weasel on me, Dan,\" Blote rumbled ominously.\n\n\n \"I'd better look in the phone book,\" Dan suggested.\n\n\n Silently, Blote produced a dog-eared directory. Dan opened it.\n\n\n \"Time, time. Let's see....\" He brightened. \"Time, Incorporated; local\n branch office. Two twenty-one Maple Street.\"\n\n\n \"A sales center?\" Blote inquired. \"Or a manufacturing complex?\"\n\n\n \"Both,\" Dan said. \"I'll just nip over and—\"\n\n\n \"That won't be necessary, Dan,\" Blote said. \"I'll accompany you.\" He\n took the directory, studied it.\n\n\n \"Remarkable! A common commodity, openly on sale, and I failed to notice\n it. Still, a ripe nut can fall from a small tree as well as from a\n large.\" He went to his desk, rummaged, came up with a handful of fuel\n cells. \"Now, off to gather in the time machine.\" He took his place in\n the carrier, patted the seat beside him with a wide hand. \"Come, Dan.\n Get a wiggle on.\"\nHesitantly, Dan moved to the carrier. The bluff was all right up to a\n point—but the point had just about been reached. He took his seat.\n Blote moved a lever. The familiar blue glow sprang up. \"Kindly direct\n me, Dan,\" Blote demanded. \"Two twenty-one Maple Street, I believe you\n said.\"\n\n\n \"I don't know the town very well,\" Dan said, \"but Maple's over that\n way.\"\n\n\n Blote worked levers. The carrier shot out into a ghostly afternoon sky.\n Faint outlines of buildings, like faded negatives, spread below. Dan\n looked around, spotted lettering on a square five-story structure.\n\n\n \"Over there,\" he said. Blote directed the machine as it swooped\n smoothly toward the flat roof Dan indicated.\n\n\n \"Better let me take over now,\" Dan suggested. \"I want to be sure to\n get us to the right place.\"\n\n\n \"Very well, Dan.\"\n\n\n Dan dropped the carrier through the roof, passed down through a dimly\n seen office. Blote twiddled a small knob. The scene around the cage\n grew even fainter. \"Best we remain unnoticed,\" he explained.\n\n\n The cage descended steadily. Dan peered out, searching for identifying\n landmarks. He leveled off at the second floor, cruised along a barely\n visible corridor. Blote's eyes rolled, studying the small chambers\n along both sides of the passage at once.\n\n\n \"Ah, this must be the assembly area,\" he exclaimed. \"I see the machines\n employ a bar-type construction, not unlike our carriers.\"\n\n\n \"That's right,\" Dan said, staring through the haziness. \"This is where\n they do time....\" He tugged at a lever suddenly; the machine veered\n left, flickered through a barred door, came to a halt. Two nebulous\n figures loomed beside the cage. Dan cut the switch. If he'd guessed\n wrong—\n\n\n The scene fluoresced, sparks crackling, then popped into sharp focus.\n Blote scrambled out, brown eyes swivelling to take in the concrete\n walls, the barred door and—\n\n\n \"You!\" a hoarse voice bellowed.\n\n\n \"Grab him!\" someone yelled.\n\n\n Blote recoiled, threshing his ambulatory members in a fruitless attempt\n to regain the carrier as Manny and Fiorello closed in. Dan hauled at a\n lever. He caught a last glimpse of three struggling, blue-lit figures\n as the carrier shot away through the cell wall.\nIII\n\n\n Dan slumped back against the seat with a sigh. Now that he was in the\n clear, he would have to decide on his next move—fast. There was no\n telling what other resources Blote might have. He would have to hide\n the carrier, then—\n\n\n A low growling was coming from somewhere, rising in pitch and volume.\n Dan sat up, alarmed. This was no time for a malfunction.\n\n\n The sound rose higher, into a penetrating wail. There was no sign of\n mechanical trouble. The carrier glided on, swooping now over a nebulous\n landscape of trees and houses. Dan covered his ears against the\n deafening shriek, like all the police sirens in town blaring at once.\n If the carrier stopped it would be a long fall from here. Dan worked\n the controls, dropping toward the distant earth.\n\n\n The noise seemed to lessen, descending the scale. Dan slowed, brought\n the carrier in to the corner of a wide park. He dropped the last few\n inches and cut the switch.\n\n\n As the glow died, the siren faded into silence.\n\n\n Dan stepped from the carrier and looked around. Whatever the noise\n was, it hadn't attracted any attention from the scattered pedestrians\n in the park. Perhaps it was some sort of burglar alarm. But if so, why\n hadn't it gone into action earlier? Dan took a deep breath. Sound or no\n sound, he would have to get back into the carrier and transfer it to a\n secluded spot where he could study it at leisure. He stepped back in,\n reached for the controls—\n\n\n There was a sudden chill in the air. The bright surface of the dials\n before him frosted over. There was a loud\npop!\nlike a flashbulb\n exploding. Dan stared from the seat at an iridescent rectangle\n which hung suspended near the carrier. Its surface rippled, faded\n to blankness. In a swirl of frosty air, a tall figure dressed in a\n tight-fitting white uniform stepped through.\n\n\n Dan gaped at the small rounded head, the dark-skinned long-nosed face,\n the long, muscular arms, the hands, their backs tufted with curly\n red-brown hair, the strange long-heeled feet in soft boots. A neat\n pillbox cap with a short visor was strapped low over the deep-set\n yellowish eyes, which turned in his direction. The wide mouth opened in\n a smile which showed square yellowish teeth.\n\n\n \"\nAlors, monsieur\n,\" the new-comer said, bending his knees and back in\n a quick bow. \"\nVous ete une indigine, n'est ce pas?\n\"\n\n\n \"No compree,\" Dan choked out \"Uh ... juh no parlay Fransay....\"\n\n\n \"My error. This is the Anglic colonial sector, isn't it? Stupid of me.\n Permit me to introduce myself. I'm Dzhackoon, Field Agent of Class\n five, Inter-dimensional Monitor Service.\"\n\n\n \"That siren,\" Dan said. \"Was that you?\"\n\n\n Dzhackoon nodded. \"For a moment, it appeared you were disinclined to\n stop. I'm glad you decided to be reasonable.\"\n\n\n \"What outfit did you say you were with?\" Dan asked.\n\n\n \"The Inter-dimensional Monitor Service.\"\n\n\n \"Inter-what?\"\n\n\n \"Dimensional. The word is imprecise, of course, but it's the best our\n language coder can do, using the Anglic vocabulary.\"\n\n\n \"What do you want with me?\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What do Dan's interactions with both Kelly and Blote signify about his overall motive throughout the article?", "question_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C_1", "options": ["Dan realized that Kelly and Blote were deceiving him, so he decided to turn against them by disappearing with the carrier.", "Dan did not want to work with Kelly from the beginning, so he used the carrier to escape and eventually met Blote where he convinced Dan to work for him instead.", "Dan had no intention on working with Kelly and Blote because he only wanted to get ahold of the carrier to use for himself.", "Dan originally wanted to work to help both Kelly and Blote, but he eventually decided to pursue his own interests with using the carrier."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What choice best describes Dan's feelings toward operating the carrier throughout the article?", "question_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C_2", "options": ["He was originally confused on how to operate the carrier and still remained unfamiliar with how it worked throughout the article.", "Dan was intrigued by the carrier when he first operated it but gradually began to dislike it the more he used the carrier.", "Dan was originally confused by the machine but became increasingly frustrated with it throughout the rest of the article.", "Dan was nervous to operate the carrier when he first used it, but eventually became confident in controlling it."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What feeling does Dan's accidental encounter with the young girl evoke for the readers?", "question_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C_3", "options": ["A feeling of suspense because the girl could notice Dan at any moment.", "A feeling of success because the encounter proves that Dan successfully time-travelled.", "A feeling of horror knowing that Dan could be arrested from his previous escape.", "A feeling of unhappiness because Dan's mission to time-travel had failed."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have happened if Dan had never encountered Blote?", "question_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C_4", "options": ["He would not have had to worry about finding a way to abandon Blote from the carrier.", "He would have learned about time machines from another person.", "He would never have learned how to operate the carrier and would have needed to seek help from someone else.", "He would have been caught and arrested by Kelly along with Manny and Fiorello."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does Blote's reaction to Dan's mentioning of a time machine demonstrate about where Manny and Fiorello came from?", "question_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C_5", "options": ["Manny and Fiorello were also from planet Earth, hence Blote's confusion about time-travelling.", "Manny and Fiorello were from the future, but Blote did not want Dan to find out.", "Manny and Fiorello were from another dimension, which was denoted by Blote's unfamiliarity with time-travel. ", "Manny and Fiorello were from another planet, given by Blote's confusion about time-travelling."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What would best describe how Dan's experiences, such as fighting the thieves and meeting Dzhackoon, changed his overall attitude that he had in the beginning of the article?", "question_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C_6", "options": ["His experiences made him more cunning in accomplishing his ultimate motive.", "His experiences made him no longer act collected about his original plan and underlying motive.", "His experiences helped make him more confident in his plans.", "His experiences made him reflect on how he should have revised his original plan and motive."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why would Dan have wanted Fiorello to accompany him on the carrier?", "question_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C_7", "options": ["Dan would have been able accomplish his goal of meeting Blote faster.", "Fiorello would have taught Dan how to time-travel.", "Dan purposely wanted to leave Manny behind.", "It would have prevented the trouble Dan had with controlling the carrier."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Dan determined to wait so long for the thieves?", "question_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C_8", "options": ["He wanted to steal the carrier so the thieves could not leave.", "He planned to help Kelly successfully arrest the thieves.", "He wanted to help prevent important paintings from being stolen out of the vault.", "It was his plan to have the chance to time-travel."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the author's purpose in providing such detailed descriptions of Blote and Dzhackoon?", "question_unique_id": "52855_MV65I88C_9", "options": ["To better familiarize the audience with the setting of the places Dan visited.", "To explain why Dan was so intrigued by these characters.", "To show that people in the future do not look as human as a character like Dan.", "To show that these characters are unlike the human ones on Earth."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/2/8/5/52855//52855-h//52855-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62085", "set_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1011", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Pied Piper of Mars", "year": 1952, "author": "Kummer, Frederic Arnold", "topic": "Martians -- Fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Radio broadcasting -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Short stories", "article": "Pied Piper of Mars\nBy FREDERIC ARNOLD KUMMER, Jr.\nElath Taen made mad music for the men of Mars.\n\n The red planet lived and would die to the\n\n soul-tearing tunes of his fiendish piping.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Spring 1942.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nIn all the solar system there is no city quite like Mercis, capital\n of Mars. Solis, on Venus, is perhaps more beautiful, some cities of\n Earth certainly have more drive and dynamitism, but there is a strange\n inscrutable air about Mercis which even terrestials of twenty years'\n residence cannot explain. Outwardly a tourists' mecca, with white\n plastoid buildings, rich gardens, and whispering canals, it has another\n and darker side, ever present, ever hidden. While earthmen work and\n plan, building, repairing, bringing their vast energy and progress\n to decadent Mars, the silent little reddies go their devious ways,\n following ancient laws which no amount of terrestial logic can shake.\n Time-bound ritual, mysterious passions and hates, torturous, devious\n logic ... all these, like dark winding underground streams run beneath\n the tall fair city that brings such thrilled superlatives to the lips\n of the terrestial tourists.\n\n\n Steve Ranson, mounting the steps of the old house facing the Han\n canal, was in no mood for the bizarre beauties of Martian scenery. For\n one thing, Mercis was an old story to him; his work with Terrestial\n Intelligence had brought him here often in the past, on other strange\n cases. And for another thing, his mission concerned more vital matters.\n Jared Haller, as head of the state-owned Martian Broadcasting System,\n was next in importance to the august Governor Winship himself. As\n far back as the Hitlerian wars on earth it had been known that he\n who controls propaganda, controls the nation ... or planet. Martian\n Broadcasting was an important factor in controlling the fierce warlike\n little reddies, keeping the terrestial-imposed peace on the red\n planet. And when Jared Haller sent to Earth for one of the Terrestial\n Intelligence, that silent efficient corps of trouble-shooters,\n something was definitely up.\n\n\n The house was provided with double doors as protection against the\n sudden fierce sandstorms which so often, in the month of Tol, sweep\n in from the plains of Psidis to engulf Mercis in a red choking haze.\n Ranson passed the conventional electric eye and a polite robot voice\n asked his name. He gave it, and the inner door opened.\n\n\n A smiling little Martian butler met him in the hall, showed him into\n Haller's study. The head of M.B.C. stood at one end of the big library,\n the walls of which were lined with vivavox rolls and old-fashioned\n books. As Ranson entered, he swung about, frowning, one hand dropping\n to a pocket that bulged unmistakably.\n\n\n \"Ranson, Terrestial Intelligence.\" The special agent offered his card.\n \"You sent to Earth a while ago for an operator?\"\n\n\n Jared Haller nodded. He was a big, rough-featured individual with gray\n leonine hair. A battering-ram of a man, one would think, who hammered\n his way through life by sheer force and drive. But as Ranson looked\n closer, he could see lines of worry, of fear, etched about the strong\n mouth, and a species of terror within the shaggy-browed eyes.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" said Jared Haller. \"I sent for an operator. You got here\n quickly, Mr. Ranson!\"\n\n\n \"Seven days out of earth on the express-liner\nArrow\n.\" Ranson wondered\n why Haller didn't come to the point. Even Terrestial Intelligence\n headquarters in New York hadn't known why a T.I. man was wanted on\n Mars ... but Haller was one of the few persons sufficiently important\n to have an operator sent without explanation as to why he was wanted.\n Ranson put it directly. \"Why did you require the help of T.I., Mr.\n Haller?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Because we're up against something a little too big for the Mercian\n police force to handle.\" Jared Haller's strong hands tapped nervously\n upon the desk. \"No one has greater respect for our local authorities\n than myself. Captain Maxwell is a personal friend of mine. But I\n understood that T.I. men had the benefit of certain amazing devices,\n remarkable inventions, which make it easy for them to track down\n criminals.\"\n\n\n Ranson nodded. That was true. T.I. didn't allow its secret devices\n to be used by any other agency, for fear they might become known to\n the criminals and outlaws of the solar system. But Haller still hadn't\n told what crime had taken place. This time Ranson applied the spur of\n silence. It worked.\n\n\n \"Mr. Ranson,\" Haller leaned forward, his face a gray grim mask,\n \"someone, something, is working to gain control of the Martian\n Broadcasting Company! And I don't have to tell you that whoever\n controls M.B.C. controls Mars! Here's the set-up! Our company, although\n state owned, is largely free from red-tape, so long as we stress the\n good work we terrestials are doing on Mars and keep any revolutionary\n propaganda off the air-waves. Except for myself, and half a dozen other\n earthmen in responsible positions, our staff is largely Martian.\n That's in line with our policy of teaching Mars our civilization until\n it's ready for autonomy. Which it isn't yet, by quite some. As you\n know.\"\n\n\n Ranson nodded, eyes intent as the pattern unfolded.\n\n\n \"All right.\" Haller snapped. \"You see the situation. Remove us ... the\n few terrestials at the top of M.B.C ... and Martian staff would carry\n on until new men came out from Earth to take our places. But suppose\n during that period with no check on their activities, they started\n to dish out nationalist propaganda? One hour's program, with the old\n Martian war-songs being played and some rabble-rouser yelling 'down\n with the terrestial oppressors' and there'd be a revolution. Millions\n of reddies against a few police, a couple of regiments of the Foreign\n Legion. It'd be a cinch.\"\n\n\n \"But,\" ... Ranson frowned ... \"this is only an interesting supposition.\n The reddies are civilized, peaceful.\"\n\n\n \"Outwardly,\" Haller snapped. \"But what do you or any other earthmen\n know about what goes on in their round red heads? And the proof that\n some revolt is planned lies in what's been happening the past few\n weeks! Look here!\" Haller bent forward, the lines about his mouth\n tighter than ever. \"Three weeks ago my technical advisor, Rawlins,\n committed suicide. Not a care in the world, but he killed himself. A\n week later Harris, head of the television department, went insane.\n Declared a feud with the whole planet, began shooting at everyone he\n saw. The police rayed him in the struggle. The following week Pegram,\n the musical director, died of a heart attack. Died with the most\n terrorized expression on his face I've ever seen. Fear, causing the\n heart attack, his doctor said. You begin to see the set-up? Three men,\n each a vital power in M.B.C. gone within three weeks! And who's next?\n Who?\" Jared Haller's eyes were bright with fear.\n\n\n \"Suicide, insanity, heart attack.\" Ranson shrugged. \"All perfectly\n normal. Coincidence that they should happen within three weeks. What\n makes you think there's been foul play?\"\n\n\n For a long brittle moment Jared Haller stared out at the graceful white\n city, wan in the light of the twin moons. When he turned to face\n Ranson again, his eyes were bleak as a lunar plain.\n\n\n \"One thing,\" he said slowly. \"The music.\"\n\n\n \"Music?\" Ranson echoed. \"Look here, Mr. Haller, you....\"\n\n\n \"It's all right.\" Jared Haller grinned crookedly. \"I'm not insane. Yet.\n Look, Mr. Ranson! There's just one clue to these mysterious deaths!\n And that's the music! In each instance the servants told of hearing,\n very faintly, a strange melody. Music that did queer things to them,\n even though they could hear it only vaguely. Music like none they'd\n ever heard. Like the devil's pipes, playing on their souls, while....\n Almighty God!\"\n\n\n Jared Haller froze, his face gray as lead, his eyes blue horror. Ranson\n was like a man in a trance, bent forward, lips pressed tight until they\n resembled a livid scar. The room was silent as a tomb; outside, they\n could hear the vague rumbling of the city, with the distant swish of\n canal boats, the staccato roar of rockets as some earth-bound freighter\n leaped from the spaceport. Familiar, homey sounds, these, but beneath\n them, like an undercurrent of madness, ran the macabre melody.\nThere was, there had never been, Ranson knew, any music like this.\n It was the pipes of Pan, the chant of robots, the crying of souls in\n torment. It was a cloudy purple haze that engulfed the mind, it was a\n silver knife plucking a cruel obligato on taut nerves, it was a thin\n dark snake writhing its endless coils into the room.\n\n\n Neither man moved. Ranson knew all the tricks of visual hypnotism, the\n whirling mirror, the waving hands, the pool of ink ... but this was\n the hypnotism of sound. Louder and clearer the music sounded, in eerie\n overtones, quavering sobbing minors, fierce reverberating bass. Sharp\n shards of sound pierced their ears, deep throbbing underrhythm shook\n them as a cat shakes a mouse.\n\n\n \"God!\" Haller snarled. \"What ... what is it?\"\n\n\n \"Don't know.\" Ranson felt a queer irritation growing within him. He\n strode stiffly to the window, peered out. In the darkness, the broad\n Han canal lay placid; the stars caught in its jet meshes gently\n drifted toward the bank, shattered on the white marble. Along the\n embankment were great fragrant clumps of\nfayeh\nbushes. It was among\n these, he decided, that their unknown serenader lay concealed.\n\n\n Suddenly the elfin melody changed. Fierce, harsh, it rose, until Ranson\n felt as though a file were rasping his nerves. He knew that he should\n dash down, seize the invisible musician below ... but logic, facts and\n duty, all were fading from his mind. The music was a spur, goading him\n to wild unreasoning anger. The red mists of hate swirled through his\n brain, a strange unreasoning bloodlust grew with the savage beat of the\n wild music. Berserk rage sounded in each shivering note and Ranson felt\n an insane desire to run amok. To inflict pain, to see red blood flow,\n to kill ... kill! Blindly he whirled, groping for his gun, as the music\n rose in a frenzied death-wail.\n\n\n Turning, Ranson found himself face to face with Jared Haller. But the\n tall flinty magnate was now another person. Primitive, atavistic rage\n distorted his features, insane murder lurked in his eyes. The music was\n his master, and it was driving him to frenzy. \"Kill!\" the weird rhythm\n screamed, \"Kill!\" And Jared Haller obeyed. He snatched the flame-gun\n from his pocket, levelled it at Ranson.\n\n\n Whether it was the deadly melody outside, or the instinct of\n self-preservation, Ranson never knew, but he drove at Haller with grim\n fury. The flame-gun hissed, filling the room with a greenish glare, its\n beam passing so close to Ranson's hair as to singe it. Ranson came up,\n grinning furiously, and in a moment both men were struggling, teeth\n bared in animalistic grins, breath coming in choked gasps, whirling\n in a mad dance of death as the macabre music distilled deadly poison\n within their brains.\n\n\n The end came with startling suddenness. Ranson, twisting his opponent's\n arm back, felt the searing blast of the flame-gun past his hand. Jared\n Haller, a ghastly blackened corpse, toppled to the floor.\n\n\n At that moment the lethal rhythm outside changed abruptly. From the\n fierce maddening beat of a few minutes before, the chords took on a\n yearning seductive tone. A call, it seemed, irresistible, soft, with\n a thousand promises. This was the song the sirens sang to Ulysses,\n the call of the Pied Piper, the chant of the houris in paradise. It\n conjured up pictures in Ranson's mind ... pictures of fairyland, of\n exquisitely beautiful scenes, of women lovely beyond imagination. All\n of man's hopes, man's dreams, were in that music, and it drew Ranson as\n a moth is drawn to a flame. The piping of Pan, the fragile fantasies of\n childhood, the voices of those beyond life.... Ranson walked stiffly\n toward the source of the music, like a man drugged.\n\n\n As he approached the window the melody grew louder. The hypnotism of\n sound, he knew, but he didn't care. It was enthralling, irresistible.\n Like a sleepwalker he climbed to the sill, stood outlined in the tall\n window. Twenty feet to the ground, almost certain death ... but Ranson\n was lost in the golden world that the elfin melody conjured up. He\n straightened his shoulders, was about to step out.\n\n\n Then suddenly there was a roar of atomic motors, a flashing of lights.\n A police boat, flinging up clouds of spray, swept up the canal,\n stopped. Ranson shook himself, like a man awakening from a nightmare,\n saw uniformed figures leaping to the bank. From the shadow of the\nfayeh\nbushes a slight form sprang, dodged along the embankment.\n Flame-guns cut the gloom but the slight figure swung to the left,\n disappeared among the twisting narrow streets. Bathed in cold sweat,\n Ranson stepped back into the room, where the still, terrible form of\n Jared Haller lay. Ranson stared at it, as though seeing it for the\n first time. Outside, there were pounding feet; the canal-patrolmen\n raced through the house, toward the study. And then, his brain weary as\n if it had been cudgelled, Ranson slid limply to the floor.\nHeadquarters of the Martian Canal-Patrol was brilliantly lighted by a\n dozen big\nastralux\narcs. Captain Maxwell chewed at his gray mustache,\n staring curiously at Ranson.\n\n\n \"Then you admit killing Haller?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"Yes.\" Ranson nodded sombrely. \"In the struggle. Self-defense. But even\n if it hadn't been self-defense, I probably would have fought with him.\n That music was madness, I tell you! Madness! Nobody's responsible when\n under its influence! I....\"\n\n\n \"You killed Haller,\" Captain Maxwell said. \"And you blame it on this\n alleged music. I might believe you, Ranson, but how many other people\n would? Even members of Terrestial Intelligence aren't sacro sanct. I'll\n have to hold you for trial.\"\n\n\n \"Hold me for trial?\" Ranson leaned forward, his gaunt face intent.\n \"While the real killer, the person playing that music, gets away? Look!\n Let me out of here for twelve hours! That's all I ask! And if I don't\n track down whoever was outside Haller's house, you can....\"\n\n\n \"Sorry.\" Captain Maxwell shook his head. \"You know I'd like to, Ranson.\n But this is murder. To let a confessed murderer, even though he is a\n T.I. man, go free, is impossible.\" The captain drew a deep breath,\n motioned to the two gray-uniformed patrolmen. \"Take Mr. Ranson.\"\n\n\n And then Steve Ranson went into action. In one blinding burst of\n speed, he lunged across the desk, tore Captain Maxwell's pistol from\n its holster. Before the captain and the two patrolmen knew what had\n happened, they were staring into the ugly muzzle of the flame-gun.\n\n\n \"Sorry.\" Ranson said tightly. \"But it had to be done. There's hell\n loose on Mars, the devil's melody! And it's got to be stopped before it\n turns this planet upside down!\"\n\n\n \"You can't get away with this, Ranson!\" Captain Maxwell shook his head.\n \"It'll only make it tougher for you when we nab you again! Be sensible!\n Put down that gun.\"\n\n\n \"No good. Got to work fast.\" Ranson backed toward the door, gun\n in hand. \"Let this mad music go unchecked and it's death to all\n terrestials on Mars! And I'm going to stop it! So long, captain! You\n can try me for murder if you want, after I've done my job here!\"\n\n\n Ranson took the key from the massive plastic door as he backed\n through the entrance. Once in the hall, he slammed the door shut,\n locked Maxwell and his men in the room. Then, dropping the gun into\n his pocket, he ran swiftly down the corridor to the main entrance of\n headquarters. In the hall a patrolman glanced at him suspiciously,\n halted him, but a wave of Ranson's T.I. card put the man aside.\n\n\n Free of headquarters, Ranson began to run. Only a few moments, he\n knew, before Maxwell and his men blasted a way to freedom, set out in\n pursuit. Like a lean gray shadow Ranson ran, twisting, dodging, among\n the narrow streets, heading toward Haller's house. Mercis was a dream\n city in the wan light of the moons. One in either side of the heavens,\n they threw weird double shadows across the rippling canals, the aimless\n streets. Sleek canal-cabs roared along the dark waterways, throwing\n up clouds of spray, and on the embankments, green-eyed, bulge-headed\n little reddies padded, silent, inscrutable, themselves a part of the\n eternal mystery of Mars.\n\n\n Haller's house stood dark and brooding beside the canal. Captain\n Maxwell's men had completed their examination and the place was\n deserted. Ranson stepped into the shadow of the clump of fragrant\nfayeh\nbushes, where the unknown musician had stood; there was little\n danger, he felt, of patrolmen hunting for him at Haller's house.\n The captain had little faith in copybook maxims about the murderer\n returning to the scene of the crime.\n\n\n Ranson stood motionless for a moment as a canal boat swept by, then\n drew from his pocket a heavy black tube. He tugged, and it extended\n telescopically to a cane some four feet long. The cane was hollow, a\n tube, and the head of it was large as a man's two fists and covered\n with small dials, gauges. This was the T.I.'s most cherished secret,\n the famous \"electric bloodhound,\" by which criminals could be tracked.\n\n\n Ranson touched a lever and a tiny electric motor in the head of the\n cane hummed, drawing air up along the tube. He tapped the bank where\n the unknown musician had stood, eyes on the gauges. Molecules of\n matter, left by the mysterious serenader, were sucked up the tube,\n registered on a sensitive plate, just as delicate color shades register\n on the plate of a color camera.\n\n\n Ranson tapped the cane carefully upon the ground, avoiding those places\n where he had stood. Few people crossed this overgrown embankment, and\n it was a safe bet that no one other than the strange musician had\n been there recently. The scent was a clear one, and the dials on the\n head of the cane read R-2340-B, the numerical classification of the\n tiny bits of matter left behind by the unknown. The theory behind it\n was quite simple. The T.I. scientists had reasoned that the sense of\n smell is merely the effect of suspended molecules in the air acting\n upon sensitive nerve filaments, and they knew that any normal human\n can follow a trail of some strong odor such as perfumes, or gasoline,\n while animals, possessing more sensitive perceptions, can follow\n less distinct trails. To duplicate this mechanically had proven more\n difficult than an electric eye or artificial hearing device, but in\n the end they had triumphed. Their efforts had resulted in the machine\n Ranson now carried.\n\n\n The trial was, at the start, clear. Ranson tapped the long tube on the\n ground like a blind man, eyes on the dial. Along the embankment, into a\n side street, he made his way. There were few abroad in this old quarter\n of the city; from the spaceport came the roar of freighters, the rumble\n of machinery, but here in the narrow winding streets there was only the\n faint murmur of voices behind latticed windows, the rustle of the wind,\n the rattle of sand from the red desert beyond the city.\nAs Ranson plunged further into the old Martian quarter, the trail grew\n more and more confused, crossed by scores of other trails left by\n passersby. He was forced to stop, cast about like a bloodhound, tapping\n every square foot of the street before the R-2340-B on the dial showed\n that he had once more picked up the faint elusive scent.\n\n\n Deeper and deeper Ranson plunged into the dark slums of Mercis. Smoky\n gambling dens, dives full of drunken spacehands and slim red-skinned\n girls, maudlin singing ... even the yellow glare of the forbidden\n san-rays, as they filtered through drawn windows. Unsteady figures made\n their way along the streets. Mighty-thewed Jovian blasters, languid\n Venusians, boisterous earthmen ... and the little Martians padding\n softly along, wrapped in their loose dust-robes.\n\n\n At the end of an alley where the purple shadows lay like stagnant\n pools, Ranson paused. The alley was a cul-de-sac, which meant that\n the person he was trailing must have entered one of the houses. Very\n softly he tapped the long tube on the ground. Again with a hesitant\n swinging of dials, R-2340-B showed up, on the low step in front of one\n of the dilapidated, dome-shaped houses. Ranson's eyes narrowed. So the\n person who had played the mad murder melody had entered that house!\n Might still be there! Quickly he telescoped the \"electric bloodhound,\"\n dropped it into his pocket, and drew his flame-gun.\n\n\n The old house was dark, with an air of morbid deadly calm about\n it. Ranson tried the door, found it locked. A quick spurt from his\n flame-gun melted the lock; he glanced about to make sure no one had\n observed the greenish glare, then stepped inside.\n\n\n The hallway was shadowy, its walls hung with ancient Martian tapestries\n which, from their stilted symbolic ideographs must have dated back to\n the days of the Canal-Builders. At the end of the hallway, however,\n light jetted through a half-open door. Ranson moved toward it, silent\n as a phantom, muscles tense. Gripping his flame-gun, he pushed the door\n wide ... and a sudden exclamation broke from his lips.\n\n\n Before him lay a gleaming laboratory, lined with vials of strange\n liquids, shining test-tubes, and queer apparatus. Beside a table,\n pouring a black fluid from a beaker into a test-tube, stood a man.\n Half-terrestial, half-Martian, he seemed, with the large hairless head\n of the red planet, and the clean features of an earthman. His eyes,\n behind their glasses, were like green ice, and the hand pouring the\n black fluid did not so much as waver at Ranson's entrance.\n\n\n Ranson gasped. The bizarre figure was that of Dr. Elath Taen,\n master-scientist, sought by the T.I. for years, in vain! Elath Taen,\n outlaw and renegade, whose sole desire was the extermination of all\n terrestials on Mars, a revival of the ancient glories of the red\n planet. The tales told about him were fabulous; and this was the man\n behind the unholy music!\n\n\n \"Good evening, Mr. Ranson,\" Elath Taen smiled. \"Had I known T.I.\n men were on Mars I should have taken infinitely more precautions.\n However....\"\n\n\n As he spoke, his hand moved suddenly, as though to hurl the test tube\n at Ranson. Quick as he was, the T.I. man was quicker. A spurt of\n flame leapt from his gun, shattering the tube. The dark liquid hissed,\n smoking, on to the floor.\n\n\n \"Well done, Mr. Ranson.\" Elath Taen nodded calmly. \"Had the acid struck\n you, it would have rendered you blind.\"\n\n\n \"That's about enough of your tricks!\" Ranson grated. \"Come along, Dr.\n Taen! We're going to headquarters!\"\n\n\n \"Since you insist.\" Elath Taen removed his chemist's smock, began, very\n deliberately, to strip off his rubber gloves.\n\n\n \"Quit stalling!\" Ranson snapped. \"Get going! I....\" The words faded on\n the T.I. man's lips. Faintly, in the distance, came the strains of\n soft eerie music!\n\n\n \"Good God!\" Ranson's eyes darted about the laboratory. \"That ... that's\n the same as Haller and I....\"\n\n\n \"Exactly, Mr. Ranson.\" Elath Taen smiled thinly. \"Listen!\"\n\n\n The music was a caress, soft as a woman's skin. Slow, drowsy, like\n the hum of bees on a hot summer's afternoon. Soothing, soporific, in\n dreamy, crooning chords. A lullaby, that seemed to hang lead weights\n upon the eyelids. Audible hypnotism, as potent as some drug. Clearer\n with each second, the melody grew, coming nearer and nearer the\n laboratory.\n\n\n \"Come ... come on,\" Ranson said thickly. \"Got to get out of here.\"\n\n\n But his words held no force, and Elath Taen was nodding sleepily under\n the influence of the weird dream-music. Ranson knew he should act,\n swiftly, while he could; but the movement of a single muscle seemed\n an intolerable effort. His skin felt as though it were being rubbed\n with velvet, a strange purring sensation filled his brain. He tried to\n think, to move, but his will seemed in a padded vise. The music was\n dragging him down, down, into the gray mists of oblivion.\n\n\n Across the laboratory Elath Taen had slumped to the floor, a vague\n smile of triumph on his face. Ranson turned to the direction of\n the music, tried to raise his gun, but the weapon slipped from his\n fingers, he fell to his knees. Sleep ... that was all that mattered ...\n sleep. The music was like chloroform, its notes stroked his brain.\n Through half-shut eyes he saw a door at the rear of the laboratory\n open, saw a slim, dark, exotic girl step through into the room. Slung\n about her neck in the manner of an accordian, was a square box, with\n keys studding its top. For a long moment Ranson stared at the dark,\n enigmatic girl, watched her hands dance over the keys to produce the\n soft lulling music. About her head, he noticed, was a queer copper\n helmet, of a type he had never before seen. And then the girl, Elath\n Taen, the laboratory, all faded into a kaleidoscopic whirl. Ranson felt\n himself falling down into the gray mists, and consciousness disappeared.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Is the motive behind the propaganda that Martian Broadcasting uses to control the reddies on Mars similar to the motive behind the mysterious hypnotizing music that the terrestrials keep hearing, and why?", "question_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE_1", "options": ["No, because the propaganda that Martian Broadcasting delivers influences destructive behavior among reddies.", "No, because the propaganda delivered by Martian Broadcasting is not delivered in the same form as the hypnotizing music.", "Yes, because it turns out that both the propaganda and the hypnotizing music are created by Martian Broadcasting.", "Yes, because both the propaganda and the hypnotizing music intend to control the thoughts of the reddies/terrestrials."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the author's purpose in including the tragic encounter between Jared Haller and Mr. Ranson?", "question_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE_2", "options": ["To show that Jared Haller and Mr. Ranson had never liked working with each other and had a tense relationship.", "To demonstrate the end to Jared Haller's career.", "To confirm that the hypnotizing melody is what has been causing deaths among the terrestrials.", "To identify exactly who had been creating the hypnotizing melody."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would best describe the terrestrials' attitudes towards the reddies on Mars?", "question_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE_3", "options": ["The terrestrials want to help the reddies claim their own freedom.", "The terrestrials have complete disdain for the reddies and want to completely eradicate them.", "The terrestrials want to help them be successful on Mars, so they provide motivating propaganda for them.", "The terrestrials want to control the reddies so that the terrestrials can stay in control of Mars."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would be the main reason Mr. Ranson wants to find the creator of the hypnotic music?", "question_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE_4", "options": ["He wants to learn how to create the music for his own personal gain.", "He wants to prove that he did not intentionally murder Jared Haller.", "He wants to figure out how to overturn a powerful revolt by the reddies.", "The music could wipe out the terrestrials on Mars, so the source must be stopped."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Would Captain Maxwell's attitude toward Mr. Ranson and the murder been different if he had known about the hypnotizing melody, and why?", "question_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE_5", "options": ["No, because the murder would not have been excused whether it was intentional or not.", "Yes, because Captain Maxwell currently believes that Mr. Ranson intentionally killed Jared Haller.", "No, because Captain Maxwell would not further investigate the murder regardless of it being intentional or not.", "Yes, because a part of Captain Maxwell was already convinced that Mr. Ranson was wrongfully accused."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What would best describe the setting of the city that Mr. Ranson travelled through to get to the house Elath Taen resided in? ", "question_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE_6", "options": ["An aging and unkept part of the city. ", "A private yet dangerous part of the city.", "A deserted and decayed part of the city.", "The suburbs of the city."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the author's purpose in describing the feeling the hypnotizing music evoked in such detail every time that it played?", "question_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE_7", "options": ["To convey the dangerous intent of the music.", "To convey how powerful the music is.", "To help the readers hear the music in their head.", "To convey that the music is too complex to have been created by terrestrials."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have likely happened with the interaction between Elath Taen and Mr. Ranson at the end of the article if the hypnotizing music had evoked anger instead of sleepiness?", "question_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE_8", "options": ["Either Mr. Ranson or Elath Taen would have been harmed or killed.", "Mr. Ranson would have been able to converse more with Elath Taen instead of falling asleep if the music had evoked anger.", "Mr. Ranson would have been able to take Elath Taen back to the headquarters.", "Elath Taen would have been affected more by the anger-evoking music than Mr. Ranson. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Given the music described at the end of the article and its comparison to chloroform, what can you infer about the purpose of chloroform?", "question_unique_id": "62085_C1SL2YBE_9", "options": ["It is meant to hypnotize someone.", "It is meant to make someone unconscious.", "It is meant to blind a person.", "It is meant to stop someone from speaking."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/0/8/62085//62085-h//62085-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62498", "set_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1011", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Castaways of Eros", "year": 1957, "author": "Bond, Nelson S.", "topic": "Eros (Asteroid) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space colonies -- Fiction; PS; Interpersonal conflict -- Fiction", "article": "Castaways of Eros\nBy NELSON S. BOND\nTwo families fought for the title to Eros,\n\n and only one could win. One had to outsmart\n\n the other—and both had to win over the\n\n unscrupulous United Ores Corporation. It\n\n was a problem worthy of a Solomon—and it\n\n had an ending even those embittered\n rivals could not foresee.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1943.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nBobby couldn't help wishing Pop would stand up just a little bit\n straighter. Not that he was ashamed of Pop; it wasn't that at all. It\n was just that the Patrolman stood\nso\nstraight, his shoulders broad\n and firm. Standing beside him made Pop look sort of thin and puny; his\n chest caved in like he was carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders.\n\n\n That was from studying things through a microscope. Anyhow, decided\n Bobby with a fierce loyalty, that S.S.P. man probably wouldn't even\n know what to look for if somebody put a microscope in front of him.\n Even if he was big and sturdy and broad-shouldered in his space blues.\n\n\n Mom said, \"Bobby, what\nare\nyou muttering about? Do stop fidgeting!\"\n Bobby said, \"Yessum,\" and glared at Moira, as if she, in some\n obscure way, were to blame for his having been reprimanded right out\n here in the middle of Long Island Spaceport, where everybody could\n hear and laugh at him. But Moira, studying the handsome S.S.P. man\n surreptitiously, did not notice. Dick was fixing something in the ship.\n Eleanor stood quietly beside Mom, crooning softly to The Pooch so it\n wouldn't be scared by the thunderous blast of rocket motors. Grampaw\n Moseley had buttonholed an embarrassed young ensign, was complaining\n to him in loud and certain terms that modern astronavigation practices\n were, \"Rank bellywash, Mister, and a dad-ratted disgrace!\"\n\n\n The Patrolman said, \"Your name, please, Sir?\"\n\n\n \"Robert Emmet O'Brien Moseley,\" said Pop.\n\n\n \"Occupation?\"\n\n\n \"Research physicist, formerly. Now about to become a land-grant\n settler.\"\n\n\n \"Age of self and party ... former residence....\"\n\n\n Overhead, the sky was blue and thin—clear as a bowl of skimmed milk;\n its vastness limned in sharp relief, to the west and north, the mighty\n spans and arches, the faery domes and flying buttresses of Great New\n York. The spacedrome fed a hundred ducts of flight; from one field\n lifted air locals, giddy, colored motes with gyroscopes aspin. From\n another, a West Coast stratoliner surged upward to lose itself in thin,\n dim heights.\n\n\n Vast cradles by the Sound were the nests to which a flock of\n interplanetary craft made homeward flight. Luggers and barges and\n cruisers. Bobby saw, with sudden excitement, the sharp, starred prow of\n the Solar Space Patrol man-o'-war.\n\n\n Here, in this field, the GSC's—the General Spacecraft Cradles. From\n one of which, as soon as Pop got clearance, their ship would take off.\n Their ship! Bobby felt an eager quickening of his pulse; his stomach\n was aswarm with a host of butterflies.\nTheir ship!\nThe space officer said, \"I think that takes care of everything, Dr.\n Moseley. I presume you understand the land-grant laws and obligations?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Lieutenant.\"\n\n\n \"Very well, then—\" Space-red hands made official motions with a\n hand-stamp and pen. \"Your clearance. And my very best wishes, Sir.\"\n\n\n \"Thank you,\" said Pop quietly. He turned. \"That's all. Ready, Mother?\n Eleanor? Moira?\"\n\n\n Bobby bounded forward. \"Can I push the button, can I, Pop? When we\n start, can I?\"\nDick was waiting before the open lock of the\nCuchulainn\n. Dick could\n do anything, everything at once. He took The Pooch into the circle of\n his left arm, helped his mother aboard, said, \"Shut up, kid, you're\n enough to wake the dead. Watch that guard-panel, Elly. Papers all set,\n Pop?\" And he tickled The Pooch's dimpled cheek with an oily finger.\n \"You act just like your mama,\" he said irrelevantly, and the baby\n gurgled. Eleanor cried, \"Dick—those dirty hands!\"\n\n\n \"Everything is in order, Richard,\" said Pop.\n\n\n \"Good. You folks go in and strap down. I'll seal. Here comes the\n cradle-monkey now.\"\n\n\n Pop said, \"Come along, Robert,\" and the others went inside. Bobby\n waited, though, to see the cradle-monkey, the man under whose orders\n spacecraft lifted gravs. The cradle-monkey was a dour man with gnarled\n legs and arms and temper. He looked at the\nCuchulainn\nand sniffed;\n then at Dick.\n\n\n \"Family crate, huh?\"\n\n\n \"That's right.\"\n\n\n \"Well, f'r goddlemighty' sakes, don't try to blast off with y'r side\n jets burnin'. Take a seven-point-nineteen readin' on y'r Akka gauge,\n stern rockets only—\"\n\n\n \"Comets to you, butt-hoister!\" grinned Dick. \"I've had eight years on\n the spider run. I can lift this can.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, a rocketeer?\" There was new, grudging respect in the groundman's\n tone. \"Well, how was I t' know? Y'ought t' see what some o' them\n jaloupi-jockeys do to my cradles—burn 'em black! Oh, well—\" He backed\n away from the ship.\n\n\n \"Clean ether!\" said Dick. He closed the lock. Its seal-brace slid into\n place, wheezing asthmatically. Bobby's ears rang suddenly with the mild\n compression of air; when he swallowed, they were all right again. Dick\n saw him. \"What are you doing here, kid? Didn't I hear Pop tell you to\n come below?\"\n\n\n Bobby said, \"I'm not a kid. I'm almost sixteen.\"\n\n\n \"Just old enough,\" promised Dick, \"to get your seat warmed if you don't\n do what you're told. Remember, you're a sailor on a spaceship now.\n Pop's the Skipper, and I'm First Mate. If you don't obey orders, it's\n mutiny, and—\"\n\n\n \"I'm obeying,\" said Bobby hastily. He followed his brother down the\n corridor, up the ramp, to the bridge. \"Can I push the button when we\n take off, huh, Dick?\"\n\n\n After his high expectations, it wasn't such a great thrill. Dick set\n the stops and dials, told him which button to press. \"When I give the\n word, kid.\" Of course, he got to sit in the pilot's bucket-chair, which\n was something. Moira and Eleanor and Mom to lie down in acceleration\n hammocks while Pop and Dick sat in observation seats. He waited, all\n ears and nerves, as the slow seconds sloughed away. Pop set the hypos\n running; their faint, dull throb was a magic sound in the silence.\n\n\n Then there came a signal from outside. Dick's hand rose in\n understanding response; fell again. \"Now!\"\nBobby jabbed the button in frantic haste. Suddenly the silence was\n shattered by a thunderous detonation. There was a massive hand pressing\n him back into the soft, yielding leather of his chair; the chair\n retreated on oiled channels, pneumatic compensators hissing faintly,\n absorbing the shock. Across the room a faulty hammock-hinge squeaked\n rustily.\n\n\n Then it was over as quickly as it had begun, and he could breathe\n again, and Dick was lurching across the turret on feet that wobbled\n queerly because up was down and top was bottom and everything was funny\n and mixed up.\n\n\n Dick cut in the artificial gravs, checked the meter dials with a\n hurried glance, smiled.\n\n\n \"Dead on it! Want to check, Skipper?\"\n\n\n But Pop was standing by the observation pane, eyeing an Earth already\n ball-like in the vastness of space. Earth, dwindling with each passing\n moment. Bobby moved to his side and watched; Moira, too, and Eleanor\n and Mom, and even Dick.\n\n\n Pop touched Mom's hand. He said, \"Martha—I'm not sure this is fair to\n you and the children. Perhaps it isn't right that I should force my\n dream on all of you. The world we have known and loved lies behind us.\n Before us lies only uncertainty....\"\n\n\n Mom sort of sniffed and reached for a handkerchief. She turned her back\n to Pop for a minute, and when she turned around again her eyes were red\n and angry-looking. She said, \"\nYou\nwant to go on, don't you, Rob?\"\n\n\n Pop nodded. \"But I'm thinking of you, Martha.\"\n\n\n \"Of me!\" Mom snorted indignantly. \"Hear him talk! I never heard such\n nonsense in my life. Of\ncourse\nI want to go on. No, never mind that!\n Richard, isn't there a kitchen on this boat?\"\n\n\n \"A galley, Mom. Below.\"\n\n\n \"Galley ... kitchen ... what's the difference? You two girls come with\n me. I'll warrant these men are starving.\nI\nam!\"\nAfter that, things became so normal as to be almost disappointing. From\n his eager reading of such magazines as\nMartian Tales\nand\nCosmic\n Fiction Weekly\n, Bobby had conceived void-travel to be one long,\n momentous chain of adventure. A super-thrilling serial, punctuated by\n interludes with space-pirates, narrow brushes with meteors, sabotage,\n treachery—hair-raising, heroic and horrifying.\n\n\n There was nothing like that to disturb the calm and peaceful journey of\n the\nCuchulainn\n. Oh, it was enjoyable to stare through the observation\n panes at the flame-dotted pall of space—until Pop tried to turn his\n curious interest into educational channels; it was exciting, too, to\n probe through the corridored recesses of their floating home—except\n that Dick issued strict orders that nothing must be touched, that he\n must not enter certain chambers, that he mustn't push his nose into\n things that didn't concern kids—\n\n\n Which offended Bobby, who was sixteen, or, anyway, fifteen and\n three-quarters.\n\n\n So they ate and they slept and they ate again. And Pop and Dick spelled\n each other at the control banks. Moira spent endless hours with comb\n and mirror, devising elaborate hair-dos which—Bobby reminded her\n with impudent shrewdness—were so much wasted energy, since they were\n settling in a place where nobody could see them. And Mom bustled about\n in the galley, performing miracles with flour and stuff, and in the\n recreation room, Eleanor minded The Pooch, and lost innumerable games\n of cribbage to Grampaw Moseley who cheated outrageously and groused,\n between hands, about the dad-blame nonsensical way Dick was handling\n the ship.\n\n\n And somehow three Earth days sped by, and they were nearing their\n destination. The tiny planetoid, Eros.\n\n\n Pop said, \"You deserve a great deal of credit, son, for your fine work\n in rehabilitating the\nCuchulainn\n. It has performed beautifully. You\n are a good spaceman.\"\n\n\n Dick flushed. \"She's a good ship, Pop, even if she is thirty years old.\n Some of these old, hand-fashioned jobs are better than the flash junk\n they're turning off the belts nowadays. You've checked the declension\n and trajectory?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. We should come within landing radius in just a few hours. Cut\n drives at 19.04.22 precisely and make such minor course alterations as\n are necessary, set brakes.\" Pop smiled happily. \"We're very fortunate,\n son. A mere fifteen million miles. It's not often Eros is so near\n Earth.\"\n\n\n \"Don't I know it? It's almost a hundred million at perihelion. But\n that's not the lucky part. You sure had to pull strings to get the\n government land grant to Eros. What a plum! Atmosphere ... water ...\n vegetable life ... all on a hunk of dirt fifty-seven miles in diameter.\n Frankly, I don't get it! Eros must have terrific mass to have the\n attributes of a full-sized planet.\"\n\n\n \"It does, Richard. A neutronium core.\"\n\n\n \"Neutronium!\" Dick gasped. \"Why don't people tell me these things?\n Roaring craters, Pop, we're rich! Bloated plutocrats!\"\n\n\n \"Not so fast, son. Eventually, perhaps; not today. First we must\n establish our claims, justify our right to own Eros. That means work,\n plenty of hard work. After that, we might be able to consider a mining\n operation. What's that?\"\n\n\n Bobby jumped. It was Mom's voice. But her cry was not one of fear, it\n was one of excitement.\n\n\n \"Rob, look! Off to the—the left, or the port, or whatever you call it!\n Is that our new home?\"\n\n\n Bobby did not need to hear Pop's reply to know that it was. His swift\n intake of breath was enough, the shine in his eyes as he peered out the\n observation port.\n\n\n \"Eros!\" he said.\n\n\n It looked all right to Bobby. A nice, clean little sphere, spinning\n lazily before their eyes like a top someone had set in motion, then\n gone away and forgotten. Silver and green and rusty brown, all still\n faintly blued by distance. The warm rays of old Sol reflected gaily,\n giddily, from seas that covered half the planetoid's surface, and\n mountains cut long, jagged shadows into sheltered plains beneath them.\n It was, thought Bobby, not a bad looking little place. But not anything\n to get all dewy-eyed about, like Pop was.\n\n\n Dick said softly, \"All right, Pop. Let's check and get ready to set 'er\n down....\"\nII\n\n\n It was not Dick's fault. It was just a tough break that no one had\n expected, planned for, guarded against. The planetoid was there beneath\n them; they would land on it. It was as simple at that.\n\n\n Only it wasn't. Nor did they have any warning that the problem was more\n complex until it was too late to change their plans, too late to halt\n the irrevocable movements of a grounding spaceship. Dick should have\n known, of course. He was a spaceman; he had served two tricks on the\n Earth-Venus-Mars run. But all those planets were large; Eros was just a\n mote. A spinning top....\n\n\n Anyway, it was after the final coordinates had been plotted, the last\n bank control unchangeably set, the rockets cut, that they saw the\n curved knife-edge of black slicing up over Eros' rim. For a long moment\n Dick stared at it, a look of angry chagrin in his eyes.\n\n\n \"Well, blast me for an Earth-lubbing idiot! Do you see that, Pop?\"\n\n\n Pop looked like he had shared Dick's persimmon.\n\n\n \"The night-line. We forgot to consider the diurnal revolution.\"\n\n\n \"And now we've got to land in the dark. On strange terrain. Arragh! I\n should have my head examined. I've got a plugged tube somewhere!\"\n\n\n Grampaw Moseley hobbled in, appraised the situation with his\n incomparable ability to detect something amiss. He snorted and rattled\n his cane on the floor.\n\n\n \"They's absolutely nothin',\" he informed the walls, \"to this\n hereditation stuff. Elst why should my own son an' his son be so\n dag-nabbed stoopid?\"\n\n\n \"'What can't be cured,'\" said Pop mildly, \"'must be endured.' We have\n the forward search-beams, son. They will help.\"\n\n\n That was sheer optimism. As they neared the planet its gravitational\n attraction seized them tighter and tighter until they were completely\n under its compulsion. Dusk swept down upon them, the sunlight dulled,\n faded, grayed. Then as the ship nosed downward, suddenly all was black.\n The yellow beam of the search stabbed reluctant shadows, bringing rocky\n crags and rounded tors into swift, terrifying relief.\n\n\n Dick snapped, \"Into your hammocks, everyone! Don't worry. This crate\n will stand a lot of bust-up. It's tough. A little bit of luck—\"\n\n\n But there was perspiration on his forehead, and his fingers played over\n the control banks like frightened moths.\n\n\n There was no further need for the artificial gravs. Eros exerted,\n strangely, incredibly, an attractive power almost as potent as Earth's.\n Dick cut off the gravs, then the hypos. As the last machine-created\n sound died away from the cabin, Bobby heard the high scream of\n atmosphere, raging and tearing at the\nCuchulainn\nwith angry fingers.\n\n\n Through howling Bedlam they tumbled dizzily and for moments that were\n ages long. While Dick labored frantically at the controls, while Moira\n watched with bated breath. Mom said nothing, but her hand sought\n Pop's; Eleanor cradled The Pooch closer to her. Grampaw scowled.\n\n\n And then, suddenly—\n\n\n \"Hold tight! We're grounding!\" cried Dick.\n\n\n And instinctively Bobby braced himself for a shock. But there was\n only a shuddering jar, a lessening of the roar that beat upon their\n eardrums, a dull, flat thud. A sodden, heavy grinding and the groan of\n metal forward. Then a false nausea momentarily assailed him. Because\n for the first time in days the\nCuchulainn\nwas completely motionless.\n\n\n Dick grinned shakily. \"Well!\" he said. \"Well!\"\n\n\n Pop unbuckled his safety belt, climbed gingerly out of his hammock,\n moved to the port, slid back its lock-plate. Bobby said, \"Can you see\n anything, Pop? Can you?\" And Mom, who could read Pop's expressions like\n a book, said, \"What is it, Rob?\"\n\n\n Pop stroked his chin. He said, \"Well, we've landed safely, Richard. But\n I'm afraid we've—er—selected a wet landing field. We seem to be under\n water!\"\n\n\n His hazard was verified immediately. Indisputably. For from the crack\n beneath the door leading from the control turret to the prow-chambers\n of the ship, came a dark trickle that spread and puddled and stained\n and gurgled. Water!\n\n\n Dick cried, \"Hey, this is bad! We'd better get out of here—\"\nHe leaped to his controls. Once more the plaintive hum of the\n hypatomics droned through the cabin, gears ground and clashed as the\n motors caught, something forward exploded dully, distantly. The ship\n rocked and trembled, but did not move. Again Dick tried to jet the\n fore-rockets. Again, and yet again.\n\n\n And on the fourth essay, there ran through the ship a violent shudder,\n broken metal grated shrilly from forward, and the water began bubbling\n and churning through the crack. Deeper and swifter. Dick cut motors and\n turned, his face an angry mask.\n\n\n \"We can't get loose. The entire nose must be stove in! We're leaking\n like a sieve. Look, everybody—get into your bulgers. We'll get out\n through the airlock!\"\n\n\n Mom cried, \"But—but our supplies, Dick! What are we going to do for\n food, clothing, furniture—?\"\n\n\n \"We'll worry about that later. Right now we've got to think of\n ourselves. That-aboy, Bobby! Thanks for getting 'em out. You girls\n remember how to climb into 'em? Eleanor—you take that oversized one.\n That's right. There's room for you and The Pooch—\"\n\n\n The water was almost ankle deep in the control room by the time they\n had all donned spacesuits. Bloated figures in fabricoid bulgers,\n they followed Dick to the airlock. It was weird, and a little bit\n frightening, but to Bobby it was thrilling, too. This was the sort of\n thing you read stories about. Escape from a flooding ship....\n\n\n They had time—or took time—to gather together a few precious\n belongings. Eleanor packed a carrier with baby food for The Pooch,\n Mom a bundle of provisions hastily swept from the galley bins; Pop\n remembered the medical kit and the tool-box, Grampaw was laden down\n with blankets and clothing, Dick burdened himself and Bobby with\n armloads of such things as he saw and forevisioned need for.\n\n\n At the lock, Dick issued final instructions.\n\n\n \"The air in the bulgers will carry you right to the surface. We'll\n gather there, count noses, and decide on our next move. Pop, you go\n first to lead the way, then Mom, and Eleanor, Grampaw—\"\n\n\n Thus, from the heart of the doomed\nCuchulainn\n, they fled. The\n airlock was small. There was room for but one at a time. The water\n was waist—no, breast-deep—by the time all were gone save Bobby and\n Dick. Bobby, whose imagination had already assigned him the command of\n the foundering ship, wanted to uphold the ancient traditions by being\n the last to leave. But Dick had other ideas. He shoved Bobby—not too\n gently—into the lock. Then there was water, black, solid, forbidding,\n about him. And the outer door opening.\n\n\n He stepped forward. And floated upward, feeling an uneasy, quibbly\n feeling in his stomach. Almost immediately a hard something\nclanged!\nagainst his impervite helmet; it was a lead-soled bulger boot; then he\n was bobbing and tossing on shallow black wavelets beside the others.\n\n\n Above him was a blue-black, star-gemmed sky; off to his right, not\n distant, was a rising smudge that must be the mainland. A dark blob\n popped out of the water. Dick.\nMoira reached for the twisted branch.\nDick's voice was metallic through the audios of the space-helmet. \"All\n here, Pop? Everybody all right? Swell! Let's strike out for the shore,\n there. Stick together, now. It isn't far.\"\n\n\n Pop said, \"The ship, Richard?\"\n\n\n \"We'll find it again. I floated up a marking buoy. That round thing\n over there isn't Grampaw.\"\n\n\n Grampaw's voice was raucous, belligerent. \"You bet y'r boots it ain't!\n I'm on my way to terry firmy. The last one ashore's a sissy!\"\n\n\n Swimming in a bulger, Bobby found, was silly. Like paddling a big,\n warm, safe rubber rowboat. The stars winked at him, the soft waves\n explored his face-plate with curious, white fingers of spray. Pretty\n soon there was sand scraping his boots ... a long, smooth beach with\n rolling hills beyond.\nIn the sudden scarlet of dawn, it was impossible to believe the night\n had even been frightening. Throughout the night, the Moseley clan\n huddled together there on the beach, waiting, silent, wondering. But\n when the sun burst over the horizon like a clamoring, brazen gong, they\n looked upon this land which was their new home—and found it good.\n\n\n The night did not last long. But Pop had told them it would not.\n\n\n \"Eros rotates on its axis,\" he explained, \"in about ten hours, forty\n minutes, Earth time measurement. Therefore we shall have 'days' and\n 'nights' of five hours; short dawns or twilights. This will vary\n somewhat, you understand, with the change of seasons.\"\n\n\n Dick asked, \"Isn't that a remarkably slow rotation? For such a tiny\n planet, I mean? After all, Eros is only one hundred and eighty odd\n miles in circumference—\"\n\n\n \"Eros has many peculiarities. Some of them we have discussed before. It\n approaches Earth nearer than any other celestial body, excepting Luna\n and an occasional meteor or comet. When first discovered by Witt, in\n 1898, the world of science marveled at finding a true planetoid with\n such an uncommon orbit. At perihelion it comes far within the orbit of\n Mars; at aphelion it is far outside.\n\n\n \"During its near approach in 1900-01, Eros was seen to vary in\n brightness at intervals of five hours and fifteen or twenty minutes.\n At that time, a few of the more imaginative astronomers offered the\n suggestion that this variation might be caused by diurnal rotation.\n After 1931, though, the planetoid fled from Earth. It was not until\n 1975, the period of its next approach, that the Ronaldson-Chenwith\n expedition visited it and determined the old presumption to be correct.\"\n\n\n \"We're not the first men to visit Eros, then?\"\n\n\n \"Not at all. It was investigated early in the days of spaceflight.\n Two research foundations, the Royal Cosmographic Society and the\n Interplanetary Service, sent expeditions here. During the Black\n Douglass period of terrorism, the S.S.P. set up a brief military\n occupation. The Galactic Metals Corporation at one time attempted\n to establish mining operations here, but the Bureau refused them\n permission, for under the Spacecode of '08, it was agreed by the Triune\n that all asteroids should be settled under land-grant law.\n\n\n \"That is why,\" concluded Pop, \"we are here now. As long as I can\n remember, it has been my dream to take a land-grant colony for my very\n own. Long years ago I decided that Eros should be my settlement. As you\n have said, Richard, it necessitated the pulling of many strings. Eros\n is a wealthy little planet; the man who earns it wins a rich prize.\n More than that, though—\" Pop lifted his face to the skies, now blue\n with hazy morning. There was something terribly bright and proud in his\n eyes. \"More than that, there is the desire to carve a home out of the\n wilderness. To be able to one day say, 'Here is my home that I have\n molded into beauty with my own hands.' Do you know what I mean, son?\n In this workaday world of ours there are no more Earthly frontiers for\n us to dare, as did our forefathers. But still within us all stirs the\n deep, instinctive longing to hew a new home from virgin land—\"\n\n\n His words dwindled into silence, and, inexplicably, Bobby felt awed.\n It was Grampaw Moseley who burst the queer moment into a thousand\n spluttering fragments.\n\n\n \"Talkin' about hewin',\" he said, \"S'posen we 'hew us a few vittles?\n Hey?\"\n\n\n Dick roused himself.\n\n\n \"Right you are, Grampaw,\" he said. \"You can remove your bulgars. I've\n tested the air; it's fine and warm, just as the report said. Moira,\n while Mom and Eleanor are fixing breakfast, suppose you lay out our\n blankets and spare clothing to dry? Grampaw, get a fire going. Pop and\n Bobby and I will get some wood.\"\n\n\n Thus Eros greeted its new masters, and the Moseleys faced morning in\n their new Eden.\nIII\n\n\n Grampaw Moseley wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There were\n no napkins, which suited him fine.\n\n\n \"It warn't,\" he said, \"a bad meal. But it warn't a fust-class un,\n neither. Them synthos an' concentrates ain't got no more flavor than—\"\n\n\n Bobby agreed with him. Syntho ham wasn't too bad. It had a nice, meaty\n taste. And syntho coffee tasted pretty much like the real thing. But\n those syntho eggs tasted like nothing under the sun except just plain,\n awful syntho eggs.\n\n\n Four Eros days—the equivalent of forty-two Earth hours or so—had\n passed since their crash landing. In that short time, much had been\n done to make their beach camp-site comfortable. All members of the\n family were waiting now for Dick to return.\n\n\n Pop said seriously, \"I'm afraid you'll have to eat them and like them\n for a little while, Father. We can't get fresh foods until we're\n settled; we can't settle until—Ah! Here comes Dick!\"\n\n\n \"I'll eat 'em,\" grumbled Grampaw, \"but be durned if I'll like 'em.\n What'd you l'arn, Dicky-boy?\"\n\n\n Dick removed his helmet, unzipped himself from his bulger, shook his\n head.\n\n\n \"It looks worse every time I go back. I may not be able to get in the\n airlock again if the ship keeps on settling. The whole prow split wide\n open when we hit, the ship is full of water. The flour and sugar and\n things like that are ruined. I managed to get a few more things out,\n though. Some tools, guns, wire—stuff like that.\"\n\n\n \"How about the hypatomic?\"\n\n\n \"Let him eat, Rob,\" said Mom. \"He's hungry.\"\n\n\n \"I can eat and talk at the same time, Mom. I think I can get the\n hypatomic out. I'd better, anyhow. If we're ever going to raise the\n ship, we'll need power. And atomic power is the only kind we can get in\n this wilderness.\" And he shook his head. \"But we can't do it in a day\n or a week. It will take time.\"\n\n\n \"Time,\" said Pop easily, \"is the one commodity with which we are\n over-supplied.\" He thought for a minute. \"If that's the way it is, we\n might as well move.\"\n\n\n \"Move?\" demanded Grampaw. \"What's the matter with the place we're at?\"\n\n\n \"For one thing, it's too exposed. An open beach is no place for a\n permanent habitation. So far we've been very lucky. We've had no\n storms. But for a permanent camp-site, we must select a spot further\n inland. A fertile place, where we can start crops. A place with fresh,\n running water, natural shelter against cold and wind and rain—\"\n\n\n \"What'll we do?\" grinned Dick. \"Flip a coin?\"\n\n\n \"No. Happily, there is a spot like that within an easy walk of here.\n I discovered it yesterday while studying the terrain.\" Pop took a\n stick, scratched a rude drawing on the sand before him. \"This is the\n coastline. We landed on the west coast of this inlet. The land we see\n across there, that low, flat land, I judge to be delta islands. Due\n south of us is a fine, fresh-water river, watering fertile valleys to\n either side. There, I think, we should build.\"\n\n\n Dick nodded.\n\n\n \"Fish from the sea, vegetables from our own farm—is there any game,\n Pop?\"\n\n\n \"That I don't know. We haven't seen any. Yet.\"\n\n\n \"We'll find out. Will this place you speak of be close enough to let me\n continue working on the\nCuchulainn\n? Yes? Well, that's that. When do\n we start?\"\n\n\n \"Why not now? There's nothing to keep us here.\"\nThey packed their meager belongings while Dick finished his meal; the\n sun was high when they left the beach. They followed the shore line\n southward, the ground rising steadily before them. And before evening,\n they came to a rolling vale through which a sparkling river meandered\n lazily to the sea.\n\n\n Small wonders unfolded before their eyes. Marching along, they\n had discovered that there was game on Eros. Not quite Earthly, of\n course—but that was not to be expected. There was one small, furry\n beast about the size of a rabbit, only its color was vivid leaf-green.\n Once, as they passed a wooded glen, a pale, fawnlike creature stole\n from the glade, watched them with soft, curious eyes. Another time\n they all started violently as the familiar siren of a Patrol monitor\n screamed raucously from above them; they looked up to see an irate,\n orange and jade-green bird glaring down at them.\n\n\n And of course there were insects—\n\n\n \"There would have to be insects,\" Pop said. \"There could be no fruitful\n vegetable life without insects. Plants need bees and crawling ants—or\n their equivalent—to carry the pollen from one flower to another.\"\n\n\n They chose a site on the riverside, a half mile or so from, above,\n and overlooking the sea. They selected it because a spring of pure,\n bubbling water was nearby, because the woodlands dwindled away into\n lush fields. And Pop said,\n\n\n \"This is it. We'll build our home on yonder knoll. And who knows—\"\n Again there grew that strange look in his eyes. \"Who knows but that\n it may be the shoot from which, a time hence, there may spring many\n cabins, then finer homes, and buildings, and mansions, until at last\n there is a great, brave city here on this port by the delta—\"\n\n\n \"That's it, Pop!\" said Dick suddenly. \"There's the name for our\n settlement. Delta Port!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "How is Bobby's attitude towards flying the spaceship different than Pop's in the beginning of the article?", "question_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF_1", "options": ["Bobby knows much less about flying spaceships than his father, so he is less confident than his father about completing the journey.", "Bobby is worried about flying on the spaceship, while Pop is upset about leaving Earth for an uncertain future on Eros.", "Bobby acts like the journey will be a thrilling adventure, while his father is much more serious about completing the trip.", "Bobby acts much more mature than his father about the journey."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Pop upset about leaving life on Earth?", "question_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF_2", "options": ["He felt selfish for making the family join along in his endeavors to a new planet.", "He ultimately knew that the mission would fail.", "The family was forced to leave Earth even though they did not want to leave.", "He knows that moving to Eros is not the best decision for the family. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Pop prefer Dick's help with the spaceship more than Bobby's?", "question_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF_3", "options": ["Bobby makes too many errors, which prevents him from receiving important tasks like Dick does.", "Dick is more mature and takes the journey seriously, unlike Bobby.", "Bobby does not cooperate with Pop as well as Dick does.", "Dick is more physically fit than Bobby, which is the reason Pop favorites Dick."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the main reason the family was so worried about losing their supplies when abandoning the spaceship?", "question_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF_4", "options": ["Nothing on Eros is usable or edible, so the family desperately needed their supplies.", "The environment on Eros is hostile and deadly without outside supplies.", "They were unsure that they would have the necessary resources to survive the first few days on Eros.", "So much money had been wasted in ruined supplies when the spaceship sunk."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Given the description of the natural setting of Eros, will it be likely that the family can survive with the available resources on the planetoid?", "question_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF_5", "options": ["Yes, it appears Eros has the same resources and species of animals on Earth to survive off of.", "No, Eros is too underdeveloped for a family to survive on.", "No, Eros is not identical to Earth, and neither are its resources.", "Yes, Eros has usable food sources, for example, but not exactly like what appears on Earth."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What example listed is most similar to the Moseley family's journey to Eros?", "question_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF_6", "options": ["Refugees fleeing from a war zone.", "A family moving to a developed country for work.", "Moving across the city to a new house.", "Settlers traveling to uninhabited land."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Given the dangerous extent of the trip to Eros, what is the most likely feeling that every family member, except for the baby and Bobby, would have likely felt?", "question_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF_7", "options": ["A degree of frustration with leaving Earth.", "Uncontainable excitement.", "Regret for leaving Earth.", "A degree of uncertainty."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How would the family's attitude towards their first days on Eros been different if the spaceship hadn't landed in the water?", "question_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF_8", "options": ["The family would be largely unaffected because supplies were temporary, and they needed to quickly find more sustainable resources regardless.", "The family would no longer have felt uncertain about their future if they had all their supplies from the spaceship.", "The family would have been more confident in their survival if they had not lost so much supplies.", "The family knew they would successfully survive with or without their supplies from the spaceship."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is Pop concerned about finding the most suitable area of land for his family to live on Eros?", "question_unique_id": "62498_D60CXKRF_9", "options": ["Eros is a hostile and deadly planetoid, so it was important to find a safe haven.", "He wants to occupy and develop the area.", "Pop needs an area suitable just for building housing for the family.", "He only needs a place that will support his family in the meantime."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/4/9/62498//62498-h//62498-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61119", "set_unique_id": "61119_BNH82NAU", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1011", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Dangerous Quarry", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Science fiction; Missouri -- Fiction; Short stories; Parapsychology -- Fiction; Insurance adjusters -- Fiction; PS; Cities and towns -- Fiction; Ozark Mountains -- Fiction", "article": "DANGEROUS QUARRY\nBY JIM HARMON\nOne little village couldn't have\n\n a monopoly on all the bad breaks\n\n in the world. They did, though!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, March 1962.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThey say automation makes jobs, especially if \"they\" are trying to keep\n their own job of selling automation machines. I know the Actuarvac made\n one purple passion of a job for me, the unpleasantly fatal results of\n which are still lingering with me.\n\n\n Thad McCain, my boss at Manhattan-Universal Insurance, beamed over\n the sprawling automatic brain's silver gauges and plastic toggles as\n proudly as if he had just personally gave birth to it. \"This will\n simplify your job to the point of a pleasant diversion, Madison.\"\n\n\n \"Are you going to keep paying me for staying with my little hobby?\" I\n asked, suspiciously eyeing my chrome competitor.\n\n\n \"The Actuarvac poses no threat to your career. It will merely keep you\n from flying off on wild-goose chases. It will unvaryingly separate from\n the vast body of legitimate claims the phony ones they try to spike us\n for. Then all that remains is for you to gather the accessory details,\n the evidence to jail our erring customers.\"\n\n\n \"Fine,\" I said. I didn't bother to inform him that that was all my job\n had ever been.\n\n\n McCain shuffled his cards. They were cards for the machine, listing new\n individual claims on company policies. Since the two-month-old machine\n was literate and could read typewriting, the cards weren't coded or\n punched. He read the top one. \"Now this, for instance. No adjuster\n need investigate this accident. The circumstances obviously are such\n that no false claim could be filed. Of course, the brain will make\n an unfailing analysis of all the factors involved and clear the claim\n automatically and officially.\"\n\n\n McCain threaded the single card into the slot for an example to me.\n He then flicked the switch and we stood there watching the monster\n ruminate thoughtfully. It finally rang a bell and spit the card back at\n Manhattan-Universal's top junior vice-president.\n\n\n He took it like a man.\n\n\n \"That's what the machine is for,\" he said philosophically. \"To detect\n human error. Hmm. What kind of a shove do you get out of this?\"\n\n\n He handed me the rejected claim card. I took it, finding a new, neatly\n typed notation on it. It said:\n\n\n Investigate the Ozark village of Granite City.\n\n\n \"You want me to project it in a movie theater and see how it stands it\n all alone in the dark?\" I asked.\n\n\n \"Just circle up the wagon train and see how the Indians fall,\" McCain\n said anxiously.\n\n\n \"It's too general. What does the nickel-brained machine mean by\n investigating a whole town? I don't know if it has crooked politics,\n a polygamy colony or a hideout for supposedly deported gangsters. I\n don't care much either. It's not my business. How could a whole town be\n filing false life and accident claims?\"\n\n\n \"Find that out,\" he said. \"I trust the machine. There have been cases\n of mass collusion before. Until you get back, we are making no more\n settlements with that settlement.\"\nResearch. To a writer that generally means legally permissible\n plagiarism. For an insurance adjuster, it means earnest work.\n\n\n Before I headed for the hills, or the Ozark Mountains, I walked a few\n hundred feet down the hall and into the manual record files. The brain\n abstracted from empirical data but before I planed out to Granite City\n I had to find the basis for a few practical, nasty suspicions.\n\n\n Four hours of flipping switches and looking at microfilm projections\n while a tawny redhead in a triangular fronted uniform carried me reels\n to order gave me only two ideas. Neither was very original. The one\n that concerned business was that the whole village of Granite City must\n be accident-prone.\n\n\n I rejected that one almost immediately. While an accident-prone was\n in himself a statistical anomaly, the idea of a whole town of them\n gathered together stretched the fabric of reality to the point where\n even an invisible re-weaver couldn't help it.\n\n\n There was an explanation for the recent rise in the accident rate down\n there. The rock quarry there had gone into high-level operation. I\n knew why from the floor, walls, ceiling border, table trimmings in the\n records room. They were all granite. The boom in granite for interior\n and exterior decoration eclipsed earlier periods of oak, plastics,\n wrought iron and baked clay completely. The distinctive grade of\n granite from Granite City was being put into use all over the planet\n and in the Officer's Clubs on the Moon and Mars.\n\n\n Yet the rise in accident, compared to the rise in production, was out\n of all proportion.\n\n\n Furthermore, the work at the quarry could hardly explain the excessive\n accident reports we had had from the village as far back as our records\n went.\n\n\n We had paid off on most of the claims since they seemed irrefutably\n genuine. All were complete with eye-witness reports and authenticated\n circumstances.\n\n\n There was one odd note in the melodic scheme: We had never had a claim\n for any kind of automobile accident from Granite City.\n\n\n I shut off the projector.\n\n\n It may be best to keep an open mind, but I have found in practice that\n you have to have some kind of working theory which you must proceed to\n prove is either right or wrong.\n\n\n Tentatively, I decided that for generations the citizens of\n Granite City had been in an organized conspiracy to defraud\n Manhattan-Universal and its predecessors of hundreds upon hundreds of\n thousands of dollars in false accident claims.\n\n\n Maybe they made their whole livelihood off us before the quarry opened\n up.\n\n\n I used my pocket innercom and had my secretary get me a plane\n reservation and a gun.\n\n\n After so many profitable decades, Granite City wasn't going to take\n kindly to my spoil-sport interference.\nThe Absinthe Flight to Springfield was jolly and relatively fast.\n Despite headwinds we managed Mach 1.6 most of the way. My particular\n stewardess was a blonde, majoring in Video Psychotherapy in her night\n courses. I didn't have much time to get acquainted or more than hear\n the outline of her thesis on the guilt purgings effected by The Life\n and Legend of Gary Cooper. The paunchy businessman in the next lounge\n was already nibbling the ear of his red-haired hostess. He was the\n type of razorback who took the girls for granted and aimed to get his\n money's worth. I gave Helen, the blonde, a kiss on the cheek and began\n flipping through the facsimiles in my briefcase as we chute-braked for\n a landing at the Greater Ozarks.\n\n\n It took me a full five minutes to find out that I couldn't take a\n copter to Granite City. Something about downdrafts in the mountains.\n\n\n Since that put me back in the days of horsepower, I trotted over to the\n automobile rental and hired a few hundred of them under the hood of a\n Rolls. That was about the only brand of car that fit me. I hadn't been\n able to get my legs into any other foreign car since I was fifteen,\n and I have steadfastly refused to enter an American model since they\n all sold out their birthrights as passenger cars and went over to the\n tractor-trailer combinations they used only for cargo trucks when I was\n a boy. Dragging around thirty feet of car is sheer nonsense, even for\n prestige.\n\n\n It was a tiresome fifty-mile drive, on manual all the way after I left\n the radar-channel area of the city. Up and down, slowing for curves,\n flipping into second for the hills.\n\n\n The whole trip hardly seemed worth it when I saw the cluster of\n painted frame buildings that was Granite City. They looked like a\n tumble of dingy building blocks tossed in front of a rolled-up indigo\n sports shirt. That was Granite Mountain in the near foreground. But I\n remembered that over the course of some forty years the people in these\n few little stacks of lumber had taken Manhattan-Universal for three\n quarters of a megabuck.\n\n\n I turned off onto the gravel road, spraying my fenders with a hail of\n a racket. Then I stepped down hard on my brakes, bracing myself to keep\n from going through the windscreen. I had almost sideswiped an old man\n sitting at the side of the road, huddled in his dusty rags.\n\n\n \"Are you okay?\" I yelled, thumbing down the window.\n\n\n \"I've suffered no harm at your hands—or your wheels, sir. But I could\n use some help,\" the old man said. \"Could I trouble you for a lift when\n you leave town?\"\n\n\n I wasn't too sure about that. Most of these guys who are on the hobo\n circuit talking like they owned some letters to their names besides\n their initials belonged to some cult or other. I try to be as tolerant\n as I can, and some of my best friends are thugs, but I don't want to\n drive with them down lonely mountain roads.\n\n\n \"We'll see what we can work out,\" I said. \"Right now can you tell me\n where I can find Marshal Thompson?\"\n\n\n \"I can,\" he said. \"But you will have to walk there.\"\n\n\n \"Okay. It shouldn't be much of a walk in Granite City.\"\n\n\n \"It's the house at the end of the street.\"\n\n\n \"It is,\" I said. \"Why shouldn't I drive up there? The street's open.\"\n\n\n The old man stared at me with red-shot eyes. \"Marshal Thompson doesn't\n like people to run automobiles on the streets of Granite City.\"\n\n\n \"So I'll just\nlock\nthe car up and walk over there. I couldn't go\n getting tire tracks all over your clean streets.\"\n\n\n The old man watched as I climbed down and locked up the Rolls.\n\n\n \"You would probably get killed if you did run the car here, you know,\"\n he said conversationally.\n\n\n \"Well,\" I said, \"I'll be getting along.\" I tried to walk sideways so I\n could keep an eye on him.\n\n\n \"Come back,\" he said, as if he had doubts.\nThe signs of a menacing conspiracy were growing stronger, I felt. I\n had my automatic inside my shirt, but I decided I might need a less\n lethal means of expression. Without breaking stride, I scooped up a\n baseball-size hunk of bluish rock from the road and slipped it into my\n small change pocket.\n\n\n I have made smarter moves in my time.\nAs I approached the house at the end of the lane, I saw it was about\n the worse construction job I had seen in my life. It looked as\n architecturally secure as a four-year-old's drawing of his home. The\n angles were measurably out of line. Around every nail head were two\n nails bent out of shape and hammered down, and a couple of dozen welts\n in the siding where the hammer had missed any nail. The paint job was\n spotty and streaked. Half the panes in the windows were cracked. I\n fought down the dust in my nose, afraid of the consequences of a sneeze\n to the place.\n\n\n My toe scuffed the top porch step and I nearly crashed face first into\n the front door. I had been too busy looking at the house, I decided. I\n knocked.\n\n\n Moments later, the door opened.\n\n\n The lean-faced man who greeted me had his cheeks crisscrossed with\n razor nicks and his shirt on wrong side out. But his eyes were bright\n and sparrow alert.\n\n\n \"Are you Mr. Marshal Thompson, the agent for Manhattan-Universal\n Insurance?\" I put to him.\n\n\n \"I'm\nthe\nmarshal, name of Thompson. But you ain't the first to take\n my title for my Christian name. You from the company?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" I said. \"Were you expecting me?\"\n\n\n Thompson nodded. \"For forty-one years.\"\nThompson served the coffee in the chipped cups, favoring only slightly\n his burned fingers.\n\n\n Catching the direction of my glance, he said, \"Company is worth a few\n scalds, Mr. Madison.\"\n\n\n I accepted the steaming cup and somehow it very nearly slipped out of\n my hands. I made a last microsecond retrieve.\n\n\n The marshal nodded thoughtfully. \"You're new here.\"\n\n\n \"First time,\" I said, sipping coffee. It was awful. He must have made a\n mistake and put salt into it instead of sugar.\n\n\n \"You think the claims I've been filing for my people are false?\"\n\n\n \"The home office has some suspicions of that,\" I admitted.\n\n\n \"I don't blame them, but they ain't. Look, the company gambles on luck,\n doesn't it?\"\n\n\n \"No. It works on percentages calculated from past experience.\"\n\n\n \"But I mean it knows that there will be, say, a hundred fatal car\n crashes in a day. But it doesn't know if maybe ninety of them will be\n in Iowa and only ten in the rest of the country.\"\n\n\n \"There's something to that. We call it probability, not luck.\"\n\n\n \"Well, probability says that more accidents are going to occur in\n Granite City than anywhere else in the country, per capita.\"\n\n\n I shook my head at Thompson. \"That's not probability. Theoretically,\n anything can happen but I don't—I can't—believe that in this town\n everybody has chanced to be an accident prone. Some other factor is\n operating. You are all deliberately faking these falls and fires—\"\n\n\n \"We're not,\" Thompson snapped.\n\n\n \"Or else something is causing you to have this trouble. Maybe the\n whole town is a bunch of dope addicts. Maybe you grow your own mescalin\n or marijuana; it's happened before.\"\n\n\n Thompson laughed.\n\n\n \"Whatever is going on, I'm going to find it out. I don't care what you\n do, but if I can find a greater risk here and prove it, the Commission\n will let us up our rates for this town. Probably beyond the capacity of\n these people, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\n \"That would be a real tragedy, Mr. Madison. Insurance is vital to this\n town. Nobody could survive a year here without insurance. People pay me\n for their premiums before they pay their grocery bills.\"\n\n\n I shrugged, sorrier than I could let on. \"I won't be able to pay for\n my own groceries, marshal, if I don't do the kind of job the company\n expects. I'm going to snoop around.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" he said grudgingly, \"but you'll have to do it on foot.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I understood you didn't like cars on your streets. At least not\n the cars of outsiders.\"\n\n\n \"That doesn't have anything to do with it. Nobody in Granite City owns\n a car. It would be suicide for anybody to drive a car, same as it would\n be to have a gas or oil stove, instead of coal, or to own a bathtub.\"\n\n\n I took a deep breath.\n\n\n \"Showers,\" Thompson said. \"With nonskid mats and handrails.\"\n\n\n I shook hands with him. \"You've been a great help.\"\n\n\n \"Four o'clock,\" he said. \"Roads are treacherous at night.\"\n\n\n \"There's always a dawn.\"\n\n\n Thompson met my eyes. \"That's not quite how we look at it here.\"\nII\n\n\n The quarry was a mess.\n\n\n I couldn't see any in the way they sliced the granite out of the\n mountain. The idea of a four-year-old—a four-year-old moron—going\n after a mound of raspberry ice cream kept turning up in my mind as I\n walked around.\n\n\n The workmen were gone; it was after five local time. But here and\n there I saw traces of them. Some of them were sandwich wrappers and\n cigarette stubs, but most of the traces were smears of blood. Blood\n streaked across sharp rocks, blood oozing from beneath heavy rocks,\n blood smeared on the handles and working surfaces of sledge hammers and\n tools. The place was as gory as a battlefield.\n\n\n \"What are you looking for, bud?\"\n\n\n The low, level snarl had come from a burly character in a syn-leather\n jacket and narrow-brimmed Stetson.\n\n\n \"The reason you have so many accidents here,\" I said frankly. \"I'm from\n the insurance company. Name's Madison.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah, I know.\"\n\n\n I had supposed he would.\n\n\n \"I'm Kelvin, the foreman here,\" the big man told me, extending a ham of\n a fist to be shook. \"Outside, doing my Army time, I noticed that most\n people don't have as many slipups as we do here. Never could figure it\n out.\"\n\n\n \"This rock is part of it—\"\n\n\n \"What do you mean by that!\" Kelvin demanded savagely.\n\n\n \"I mean the way you work it. No system to it. No stratification, no\n plateau work...\"\n\n\n \"Listen, Madison, don't talk about what you don't know anything\n about. The stuff in these walls isn't just rock; it isn't even plain\n granite. Granite City exports some of the finest grade of the stone in\n the world. And it's used all over the world. We aren't just a bunch\n of meatheaded ditch diggers—we are craftsmen. We have to figure a\n different way of getting out every piece of stone.\"\n\n\n \"It's too bad.\"\n\n\n \"What's too bad?\"\n\n\n \"That you chose the wrong way so often,\" I said.\n\n\n Kelvin breathed a virile grade of tobacco into my face. \"Listen,\n Madison, we have been working this quarry for generations, sometimes\n more of us working than other times. Today most of us are working\n getting the stone out. That's the way we like it. We don't want any\n outsider coming in and interfering with that.\"\n\n\n \"If this quarry has anything to do with defrauding Manhattan-Universal,\n I can tell you that I will do something about that!\"\n\n\n As soon as my teeth clicked back together, the sickening feeling hit me\n that I shouldn't have said that.\nThe general store was called a supermarket, but it wasn't particularly\n superior.\n\n\n I took a seat at the soda fountain and took a beer, politely declining\n the teen-age clerk's offer of a shot of white lightning from the\n Pepsi-Cola fountain syrup jug for a quarter.\n\n\n Behind me were three restaurant tables and one solitary red-upholstered\n booth. Two men somewhere between forty and sixty sat at the nearest\n table playing twenty-one.\n\n\n Over the foam of my stein I saw the old man I had almost run down in\n the road. He marched through the two-thirds of the building composed of\n rows of can goods and approached the fat man at the cash register.\n\n\n \"Hello, Professor,\" the fat man said. \"What can we do for you?\"\n\n\n \"I'd like to mail a letter,\" he said in an urgent voice.\n\n\n \"Sure, Professor, I'll send it right off on the facsimile machine as\n soon as I get a free moment.\"\n\n\n \"You're sure you can send it? Right away?\"\n\n\n \"Positive. Ten cents, Professor.\"\n\n\n The professor fumbled in his pants' pocket and fished out a dime. He\n fingered it thoughtfully.\n\n\n \"I suppose the letter can wait,\" he said resignedly. \"I believe I will\n buy a pair of doughnuts, Mr. Haskel.\"\n\n\n \"Why not get a hamburger, Professor? Special sale today. Only a dime.\n And since you're such a good customer I'll throw in a cup of coffee and\n the two sinkers for nothing.\"\n\n\n \"That's—kind of you,\" the old man said awkwardly.\n\n\n Haskel shrugged. \"A man has to eat.\"\n\n\n The man called \"the professor\" came over and sat down two stools away,\n ignoring me. The clerk dialed his hamburger and served it.\n\n\n I stayed with my beer and my thoughts.\n\n\n More and more, I was coming to believe that Granite City wasn't a job\n for an investigative adjuster like myself but a psychological adjuster.\n Crime is a structural flaw in a community, yes. But when the whole\n society is criminal, distorted, you can't isolate the flaw. The whole\n village was meat for a sociologist; let him figure out why otherwise\n decent citizens felt secure in conspiracy to defraud an honored\n corporation.\n\n\n I didn't feel that I was licked or that the trip had been a failure.\n I had merely established to my intuitive satisfaction that the job was\n not in my field.\n\n\n I glanced at the old man. The proprietor of the store knew him and\n evidently thought him harmless enough to feed.\n\n\n \"I think I can make it down the mountain before dark, Old Timer,\" I\n called over to him. \"You can come along if you like.\"\n\n\n The acne-faced kid behind the counter stared at me. I looked over and\n caught the bright little eyes of Haskel, the proprietor, too. Finally,\n the old professor turned on his stool, his face pale and his eyes sad\n and resigned.\n\n\n \"I doubt very much if either of us will be leaving, Mr. Madison,\" he\n said. \"Now.\"\nI took my beer and the professor his coffee over to the single booth.\n We looked at each other across the shiny table and our beverage\n containers.\n\n\n \"I am Doctor Arnold Parnell of Duke University,\" the professor said. \"I\n left on my sabbatical five months ago. I have been here ever since.\"\n\n\n I looked at his clothes. \"You must not have been very well fixed for a\n year's vacation, Professor.\"\n\n\n \"I,\" he said, \"have enough traveler's checks with me to paper a\n washroom. Nobody in this town will cash them for me.\"\n\n\n \"I can understand why you want to go somewhere where people are more\n trusting in that case.\"\n\n\n \"They know the checks are good. It's\nme\nthey refuse to trust to leave\n this place. They think they\ncan't\nlet me go.\"\n\n\n \"I don't see any shackles on you,\" I remarked.\n\n\n \"Just because you can't see them,\" he growled, \"doesn't mean they\n aren't there. Marshal Thompson has the only telephone in the village.\n He has politely refused to let me use it. I'm a suspicious and\n undesirable character; he's under no obligation to give me telephone\n privileges, he says. Haskel has the Post Office concession—the Telefax\n outfit behind the money box over there. He takes my letters but I never\n see him send them off. And I never get a reply.\"\n\n\n \"Unfriendly of them,\" I said conservatively. \"But how can they stop you\n from packing your dental floss and cutting out?\"\n\n\n \"Haskel has the only motor vehicle in town—a half-ton pick-up, a\n minuscule contrivance less than the size of a passenger car. He makes\n about one trip a week down into the city for supplies and package mail.\n He's been the only one in or out of Granite City for five months.\"\n\n\n It seemed incredible—more than that, unlikely, to me. \"How about the\n granite itself? How do they ship it out?\"\n\n\n \"It's an artificial demand product, like diamonds,\" Professor Parnell\n said. \"They stockpile it and once a year the executive offices for the\n company back in Nashville runs in a portable monorail railroad up the\n side of the mountain to take it out. That won't be for another four\n months, as nearly as I can find out. I may not last that long.\"\n\n\n \"How are you living?\" I asked. \"If they won't take your checks—\"\n\n\n \"I do odd jobs for people. They feed me, give me a little money\n sometimes.\"\n\n\n \"I can see why you want to ride out with me,\" I said. \"Haven't you ever\n thought of just\nwalking\nout?\"\n\n\n \"Fifty miles down a steep mountain road? I'm an old man, Mr. Madison,\n and I've gotten even older since I came to Granite City.\"\n\n\n I nodded. \"You have any papers, any identification, to back this up?\"\n\n\n Wordlessly, he handed over his billfold, letters, enough identification\n to have satisfied Allen Pinkerton or John Edgar Hoover.\n\n\n \"Okay,\" I drawled. \"I'll accept your story for the moment. Now answer\n me the big query: Why are the good people of Granite City doing this to\n you? By any chance, you wouldn't happen to know of a mass fraud they\n are perpetrating on Manhattan-Universal?\"\n\n\n \"I know nothing of their ethical standards,\" Parnell said, \"but I do\n know that they are absolutely\nsubhuman\n!\"\n\n\n \"I admit I have met likelier groups of human beings in my time.\"\n\n\n \"No, understand me. These people are literally subhuman—they are\n inferior to other human beings.\"\n\n\n \"Look, I know the Klan is a growing organization but I can't go along\n with you.\"\n\n\n \"Madison, understand me, I insist. Ethnologically speaking, it is well\n known that certain tribes suffer certain deficiencies due to diet,\n climate, et cetera. Some can't run, sing, use mathematics. The people\n of Granite City have the most unusual deficency on record, I admit.\n Their\npsionic\nsenses have been impaired. They are completely devoid\n of any use of telepathy, precognition, telekinesis.\"\n\"Because they aren't supermen, that doesn't mean that they are submen,\"\n I protested. \"I don't have any psionic abilities either.\"\n\n\n \"But you do!\" Parnell said earnestly. \"Everybody has some psionics\n ability, but we don't realize it. We don't have the fabulous abilities\n of a few recorded cases of supermen, but we have some, a trace. Granite\n City citizens have\nno\npsionic ability whatsoever, not even the little\n that you and I and the rest of the world have!\"\n\n\n \"You said you were Duke University, didn't you?\" I mused. \"Maybe you\n know what you are talking about; I've never been sure. But these\n people can't suffer very much from their lack of what you call psi\n ability.\"\n\n\n \"I tell you they do,\" he said hoarsely. \"We never realize it but we all\n have some power of precognition. If we didn't, we would have a hundred\n accidents a day—just as these people\ndo\n. They can't foresee the\n bump in the road the way we can, or that that particular match will\n flare a little higher and burn their fingers. There are other things,\n as well. You'll find it is almost impossible to carry on a lengthy\n conversation with any of them—they have no telepathic ability, no\n matter how slight, to see through the semantic barrier. None of them\n can play ball. They don't have the unconscious psionic ability to\n influence the ball in flight. All of us can do that, even if the case\n of a 'Poltergeist' who can lift objects is rare.\"\n\n\n \"Professor, you mean these people are holding you here simply so you\n won't go out and tell the rest of the world that they are submen?\"\n\n\n \"They don't want the world to know\nwhy\nthey are psionically\n subnormal,\" he said crisply. \"It's the\ngranite\n! I don't understand\n why myself. I'm not a physicist or a biologist. But for some reason the\n heavy concentration and particular pattern of the radioactive radiation\n in its matrix is responsible for both inhibiting the genes that\n transmit psi powers from generation to generation\nand\naffecting those\n abilities in the present generation. A kind of psionic sterility.\"\n\n\n \"How do you know this?\"\n\n\n \"We haven't the time for all that. But think about it. What else\ncould\nit be? It's that granite that they are shipping all over the\n world, spreading the contamination. I want to stop that contamination.\n To the people of Granite City that means ruining their only industry,\n putting them all out of work. They are used to this psionic sterility;\n they don't see anything so bad about it. Besides, like everybody else,\n they have some doubts that there really are such things as telepathy\n and the rest to be affected.\"\n\n\n \"Frankly,\" I said, hedging only a little, \"I don't know what to\n make of your story. This is something to be decided by somebody\n infallible—like the Pope or the President or Board Chairman of\n Manhattan-Universal. But the first thing to do is get you out of here.\n We had better get back to my car. I've got good lights to get down the\n mountain.\"\n\n\n Parnell jumped up eagerly, and brushed over his china mug, staining the\n tabletop with brown caffeine.\n\n\n \"Sorry,\" he said. \"I should have been precognizant of that. I try to\n stay away from the rock as much as possible, but it's getting to me.\"\n\n\n I should have remembered something then. But, naturally, I didn't.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What best describes why Madison's initial feelings towards the Actuarvac were suspicious and skeptical?", "question_unique_id": "61119_BNH82NAU_1", "options": ["He felt the Actuarvac will hurt the well-being of Manhattan-Universal Insurance.", "He felt like he might become unemployed because of the Actuarvac.", "He did not think the Actuarvac was competent enough for the job.", "He wanted to continue to be favorited by McCain, but felt his favoritism was at stake because of the Actuarvac."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does Madison's selection in car choice after the flight tell about his physical character?", "question_unique_id": "61119_BNH82NAU_2", "options": ["He is a debilitated man.", "He is a very tall man.", "He is an old man.", "He is a very muscular man."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Given the information in the article, is Granite City likely making false insurance claims, and why?", "question_unique_id": "61119_BNH82NAU_3", "options": ["Yes, since insurance is what keeps Granite City running.", "No, because crime is rampant in Granite City.", "Yes, but not the type of false claims that Madison was investigating.", "No, because the people of Granite City are unusually prone to accidents/injury."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0032", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Given what was discovered in Granite City, is the Actuarvac correct in its suspicion of Granite City?", "question_unique_id": "61119_BNH82NAU_4", "options": ["No, because Granite City was not making false insurance claims.", "Yes, because it turns out Granite City was making false insurance claims.", "No, because the Actuarvac was a highly flawed machine.", "Yes, because Madison had to eventually investigate the city."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "According to Dr. Parnell, can the same fate affecting Granite City affect other places around the world?", "question_unique_id": "61119_BNH82NAU_5", "options": ["Yes, because the granite being shipped to other places out of Granite City is what is causing the problems for the people.", "No, because the people of Granite City are born with the mental problems that are plaguing them and cannot spread them.", "Yes, because there are other places in the world exporting this same type of granite.", "Yes, because Madison is already experiencing the same mental problems the people are having."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would best describe Madison's attitude towards Professor Parnell upon learning Parnell's reasoning for calling the people of Granite City \"subhuman\"?", "question_unique_id": "61119_BNH82NAU_6", "options": ["Madison unquestionably believes Parnell's story.", "Madison dismisses Parnell as a liar.", "Madison is reluctant to believe Parnell.", "Madison pretends to believe Parnell's story for the mean-time."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How would Madison's perception of Granite City been different if he had not have met Professor Parnell?", "question_unique_id": "61119_BNH82NAU_7", "options": ["His perception of Granite City would have been misconstrued because he would have lacked an explanation to why the people of Granite City are the way that they are.", "His perception would have been unchanged because he would have figured out that Granite City was making false insurance claims on his own.", "His perception of Granite City would have been much more positive without Professor Parnell's explanation of the city's grim secret. ", "His perception of Granite City would have stayed the same; however, he would have figured out the situation in Granite City much more quickly without Professor Parnell.."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/1/1/61119//61119-h//61119-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63616", "set_unique_id": "63616_MQ1O9T2Q", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1011", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Hagerty's Enzymes", "year": 1966, "author": "Haley, A. L.", "topic": "Businessmen -- Fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Robots -- Fiction; Hotels -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "HAGERTY'S ENZYMES\nBy A. L. HALEY\nThere's a place for every man and a man for\n \nevery place, but on robot-harried Mars the\n \nsituation was just a little different.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Spring 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHarper Breen sank down gingerly into the new Relaxo-Lounge. He placed\n twitching hands on the arm-rests and laid his head back stiffly. He\n closed his fluttering eyelids and clamped his mouth to keep the corner\n from jumping.\n\n\n \"Just lie back, Harp,\" droned his sister soothingly. \"Just give in and\n let go of everything.\"\n\n\n Harper tried to let go of everything. He gave in to the chair. And\n gently the chair went to work. It rocked rhythmically, it vibrated\n tenderly. With velvety cushions it massaged his back and arms and legs.\n\n\n For all of five minutes Harper stood it. Then with a frenzied lunge\n he escaped the embrace of the Relaxo-Lounge and fled to a gloriously\n stationary sofa.\n\n\n \"Harp!\" His sister, Bella, was ready to weep with exasperation. \"Dr.\n Franz said it would be just the thing for you! Why won't you give it a\n trial?\"\n\n\n Harper glared at the preposterous chair. \"Franz!\" he snarled. \"That\n prize fathead! I've paid him a fortune in fees. I haven't slept for\n weeks. I can't eat anything but soup. My nerves are jangling like\n a four-alarm fire. And what does he prescribe? A blasted jiggling\n baby carriage! Why, I ought to send him the bill for it!\" Completely\n outraged, he lay back on the couch and closed his eyes.\n\n\n \"Now, Harp, you know you've never obeyed his orders. He told you\n last year that you'd have to ease up. Why do you have to try to run\n the whole world? It's the strain of all your business worries that's\n causing your trouble. He told you to take a long vacation or you'd\n crack up. Don't blame him for your own stubbornness.\"\n\n\n Harper snorted. His large nose developed the sound magnificently.\n \"Vacation!\" he snorted. \"Batting a silly ball around or dragging a hook\n after a stupid fish! Fine activities for an intelligent middle-aged\n man! And let me correct you. It isn't business worries that are driving\n me to a crack-up. It's the strain of trying to get some sensible,\n reasonable coöperation from the nincompoops I have to hire! It's the\n idiocy of the human race that's got me whipped! It's the—\"\n\n\n \"Hey, Harp, old man!\" His brother-in-law, turning the pages of the\n new colorama magazine, INTERPLANETARY, had paused at a double-spread.\n \"Didn't you have a finger in those Martian equatorial wells they sunk\n twenty years ago?\"\n\n\n Harper's hands twitched violently. \"Don't mention that fiasco!\" he\n rasped. \"That deal nearly cost me my shirt! Water, hell! Those wells\n spewed up the craziest conglomeration of liquids ever tapped!\"\nScribney, whose large, phlegmatic person and calm professorial brain\n were the complete antithesis of Harper's picked-crow physique and\n scheming financier's wits, looked severely over his glasses. Harp's\n nervous tribulations were beginning to bore him, as well as interfere\n with the harmony of his home.\n\n\n \"You're away behind the times, Harp,\" he declared. \"Don't you know\n that those have proved to be the most astoundingly curative springs\n ever discovered anywhere? Don't you know that a syndicate has built\n the largest extra-terrestial hotel of the solar system there and that\n people are flocking to it to get cured of whatever ails 'em? Old man,\n you missed a bet!\"\n\n\n Leaping from the sofa, Harper rudely snatched the magazine from\n Scribney's hands. He glared at the spread which depicted a star-shaped\n structure of bottle-green glass resting jewel-like on the rufous rock\n of Mars. The main portion of the building consisted of a circular\n skyscraper with a glass-domed roof. Between its star-shaped annexes,\n other domes covered landscaped gardens and noxious pools which in the\n drawing looked lovely and enticing.\n\n\n \"Why, I remember now!\" exclaimed Bella. \"That's where the Durants went\n two years ago! He was about dead and she looked like a hag. They came\n back in wonderful shape. Don't you remember, Scrib?\"\n\n\n Dutifully Scribney remembered and commented on the change the Martian\n springs had effected in the Durants. \"It's the very thing for you,\n Harp,\" he advised. \"You'd get a good rest on the way out. This gas\n they use in the rockets nowadays is as good as a rest-cure; it sort of\n floats you along the time-track in a pleasant daze, they tell me. And\n you can finish the cure at the hotel while looking it over. And not\n only that.\" Confidentially he leaned toward his insignificant looking\n brother-in-law. \"The chemists over at Dade McCann have just isolated an\n enzyme from one species of Martian fungus that breaks down crude oil\n into its components without the need for chemical processing. There's a\n fortune waiting for the man who corners that fungus market and learns\n to process the stuff!\"\n\n\n Scribney had gauged his victim's mental processes accurately. The\n magazine sagged in Harp's hands, and his sharp eyes became shrewd and\n calculating. He even forgot to twitch. \"Maybe you're right, Scrib,\" he\n acknowledged. \"Combine a rest-cure with business, eh?\"\n\n\n Raising the magazine, he began reading the advertisement. And that\n was when he saw the line about the robots. \"—the only hotel staffed\n entirely with robot servants—\"\n\n\n \"Robots!\" he shrilled. \"You mean they've developed the things to that\n point? Why hasn't somebody told me? I'll have Jackson's hide! I'll\n disfranchise him! I'll—\"\n\n\n \"Harp!\" exploded Bella. \"Stop it! Maybe Jackson doesn't know a thing\n about it, whatever it is! If it's something at the Emerald Star Hotel,\n why don't you just go and find out for yourself instead of throwing a\n tantrum? That's the only sensible way!\"\n\n\n \"You're right, Bella,\" agreed Harper incisively. \"I'll go and find out\n for myself. Immediately!\" Scooping up his hat, he left at his usual\n lope.\n\n\n \"Well!\" remarked his sister. \"All I can say is that they'd better turn\n that happy-gas on extra strong for Harp's trip out!\"\nThe trip out did Harper a world of good. Under the influence of the\n soporific gas that permeated the rocket, he really relaxed for the\n first time in years, sinking with the other passengers into a hazy\n lethargy with little sense of passing time and almost no memory of the\n interval.\n\n\n It seemed hardly more than a handful of hours until they were strapping\n themselves into deceleration hammocks for the landing. And then Harper\n was waking with lassitude still heavy in his veins. He struggled out of\n the hammock, made his way to the airlock, and found himself whisked by\n pneumatic tube directly into the lobby of the Emerald Star Hotel.\n\n\n Appreciatively he gazed around at the half-acre of moss-gray carpeting,\n green-tinted by the light sifting through the walls of Martian\n copper-glass, and at the vistas of beautiful domed gardens framed by a\n dozen arches. But most of all, the robots won his delighted approval.\n\n\n He could see at once that they had been developed to an amazingly high\n state of perfection. How, he wondered again, had this been done without\n his knowledge? Was Scrib right? Was he slipping? Gnawing at the doubt,\n he watched the robots moving efficiently about, pushing patients in\n wheelchairs, carrying trays, guiding newcomers, performing janitorial\n duties tirelessly, promptly, and best of all, silently.\n\n\n Harper was enthralled. He'd staff his offices with them. Hang the\n expense! There'd be no more of that obnoxious personal friction and\n proneness to error that was always deviling the most carefully trained\n office staffs! He'd investigate and find out the exact potentialities\n of these robots while here, and then go home and introduce them into\n the field of business. He'd show them whether he was slipping! Briskly\n he went over to the desk.\n\n\n He was immediately confronted with a sample of that human obstinacy\n that was slowly driving him mad. Machines, he sighed to himself.\n Wonderful silent machines! For a woman was arguing stridently with the\n desk clerk who, poor man, was a high strung fellow human instead of a\n robot. Harper watched him shrinking and turning pale lavender in the\n stress of the argument.\n\n\n \"A nurse!\" shouted the woman. \"I want a nurse! A real woman! For what\n you charge, you should be able to give me a television star if I want\n one! I won't have another of those damnable robots in my room, do you\n hear?\"\n\n\n No one within the confines of the huge lobby could have helped hearing.\n The clerk flinched visibly. \"Now, Mrs. Jacobsen,\" he soothed. \"You know\n the hotel is staffed entirely with robots. They're much more expensive,\n really, than human employees, but so much more efficient, you know.\n Admit it, they give excellent service, don't they, now?\" Toothily he\n smiled at the enraged woman.\n\n\n \"That's just it!\" Mrs. Jacobsen glared. \"The service is\ntoo\ngood.\n I might just as well have a set of push buttons in the room. I want\n someone to\nhear\nwhat I say! I want to be able to change my mind once\n in awhile!\"\n\n\n Harper snorted. \"Wants someone she can devil,\" he diagnosed. \"Someone\n she can get a kick out of ordering around.\" With vast contempt he\n stepped to the desk beside her and peremptorily rapped for the clerk.\n\n\n \"One moment, sir,\" begged that harassed individual. \"Just one moment,\n please.\" He turned back to the woman.\n\n\n But she had turned her glare on Harper. \"You could at least be civil\n enough to wait your turn!\"\n\n\n Harper smirked. \"My good woman, I'm not a robot. Robots, of course,\n are always civil. But you should know by now that civility isn't a\n normal human trait.\" Leaving her temporarily quashed, he beckoned\n authoritatively to the clerk.\n\n\n \"I've just arrived and want to get settled. I'm here merely for a\n rest-cure, no treatments. You can assign my quarters before continuing\n your—ah—discussion with the lady.\"\n\n\n The clerk sputtered. Mrs. Jacobsen sputtered. But not for nothing was\n Harper one of the leading business executives of the earth. Harper's\n implacable stare won his point. Wiping beads of moisture from his\n forehead, the clerk fumbled for a card, typed it out, and was about to\n deposit it in the punch box when a fist hit the desk a resounding blow\n and another voice, male, roared out at Harper's elbow.\n\n\n \"This is a helluva joint!\" roared the voice. \"Man could rot away to the\n knees while he's waitin' for accommodations. Service!\" Again his fist\n banged the counter.\n\n\n The clerk jumped. He dropped Harper's card and had to stoop for it.\n Absently holding it, he straightened up to face Mrs. Jacobsen and the\n irate newcomer. Hastily he pushed a tagged key at Harper.\n\n\n \"Here you are, Mr. Breen. I'm sure you'll find it comfortable.\" With a\n pallid smile he pressed a button and consigned Harper to the care of a\n silent and efficient robot.\nThe room was more than comfortable. It was beautiful. Its bank of clear\n windows set in the green glass wall framed startling rubicund views of\n the Martian hinterland where, Harper affectionately thought, fungi were\n busy producing enzymes that were going to be worth millions for him and\n his associates. There remained only the small detail of discovering how\n to extract them economically and to process them on this more than arid\n and almost airless planet. Details for his bright young laboratory men;\n mere details....\n\n\n Leaving his luggage to be unpacked by the robot attendant, he went up\n to the domed roof restaurant. Lunching boldly on broiled halibut with\n consomme, salad and a bland custard, he stared out at the dark blue\n sky of Mars, with Deimos hanging in the east in three-quarter phase\n while Phobos raced up from the west like a meteor behind schedule.\n Leaning back in his cushioned chair, he even more boldly lit a slim\n cigar—his first in months—and inhaled happily. For once old Scribney\n had certainly been right, he reflected. Yes sir, Scrib had rung the\n bell, and he wasn't the man to forget it. With a wonderful sense of\n well-being he returned to his room and prepared to relax.\n\n\n Harper opened his eyes. Two robots were bending over him. He saw that\n they were dressed in white, like hospital attendants. But he had no\n further opportunity to examine them. With brisk, well-co-ordinated\n movements they wheeled a stretcher along-side his couch, stuck a hypo\n into his arm, bundled him onto the stretcher and started wheeling him\n out.\n\n\n Harper's tongue finally functioned. \"What's all this?\" he demanded.\n \"There's nothing wrong with me. Let me go!\"\n\n\n He struggled to rise, but a metal hand pushed him firmly on the chest.\n Inexorably it pushed him flat.\n\n\n \"You've got the wrong room!\" yelled Harp. \"Let me go!\" But the hypo\n began to take effect. His yells became weaker and drowsier. Hazily, as\n he drifted off, he thought of Mrs. Jacobsen. Maybe she had something,\n at that.\nThere was a tentative knock on the door. \"Come in,\" called Harper\n bleakly. As soon as the door opened he regretted his invitation, for\n the opening framed the large untidy man who had noisily pounded on the\n desk demanding service while he, Harp, was being registered.\n\n\n \"Say, pardner,\" he said hoarsely, \"you haven't seen any of them robots\n around here, have you?\"\n\n\n Harper scowled. \"Oh, haven't I?\" he grated. \"Robots! Do you know what\n they did to me.\" Indignation lit fires in his pale eyes. \"Came in here\n while I was lying down peacefully digesting the first meal I've enjoyed\n in months, dragged me off to the surgery, and pumped it all out! The\n only meal I've enjoyed in months!\" Blackly he sank his chin onto his\n fist and contemplated the outrage.\n\n\n \"Why didn't you stop 'em?\" reasonably asked the visitor.\n\n\n \"Stop a robot?\" Harper glared pityingly. \"How? You can't reason with\n the blasted things. And as for using force—it's man against metal. You\n try it!\" He ground his teeth together in futile rage. \"And to think I\n had the insane notion that robots were the last word! Why, I was ready\n to staff my offices with the things!\"\n\n\n The big man placed his large hands on his own capacious stomach and\n groaned. \"I'm sure sorry it was you and not me, pardner. I could use\n some of that treatment right now. Musta been that steak and onions I\n ate after all that tundra dope I've been livin' on.\"\n\n\n \"Tundra?\" A faint spark of alertness lightened Harper's dull rage. \"You\n mean you work out here on the tundra?\"\n\n\n \"That's right. How'd you think I got in such a helluva shape? I'm\n superintendent of one of the fungus plants. I'm Jake Ellis of Hagerty's\n Enzymes. There's good money in it, but man, what a job! No air worth\n mentionin'. Temperature always freezin' or below. Pressure suits. Huts.\n Factory. Processed food. Nothin' else. Just nothin'. That's where they\n could use some robots. It sure ain't no job for a real live man. And in\n fact, there ain't many men left there. If old man Hagerty only knew it,\n he's about out of business.\"\n\n\n Harper sat up as if he'd been needled. He opened his mouth to speak.\n But just then the door opened briskly and two robots entered. With a\n horrified stare, Harper clutched his maltreated stomach. He saw a third\n robot enter, wheeling a chair.\n\n\n \"A wheel chair!\" squeaked the victim. \"I tell you, there's nothing\n wrong with me! Take it away! I'm only here for a rest-cure! Believe me!\n Take it away!\"\n\n\n The robots ignored him. For the first time in his spectacular and\n ruthless career Harper was up against creatures that he could neither\n bribe, persuade nor browbeat, inveigle nor ignore. It shattered his\n ebbing self-confidence. He began waving his hands helplessly.\n\n\n The robots not only ignored Harper. They paid no attention at all to\n Jake Ellis, who was plucking at their metallic arms pleading, \"Take\n me, boys. I need the treatment bad, whatever it is. I need all the\n treatment I can get. Take me! I'm just a wreck, fellers—\"\n\n\n Stolidly they picked Harper up, plunked him into the chair, strapped\n him down and marched out with him.\nDejectedly Ellis returned to his own room. Again he lifted the receiver\n of the room phone; but as usual a robot voice answered sweetly,\n mechanically, and meaninglessly. He hung up and went miserably to bed.\nThere was something nagging at Harper's mind. Something he should do.\n Something that concerned robots. But he was too exhausted to think it\n out.\n\n\n For five days now his pet robots had put him through an ordeal that\n made him flinch every time he thought about it. Which wasn't often,\n since he was almost past thinking. They plunked him into stinking\n mud-baths and held him there until he was well-done to the bone, he\n was sure. They soaked him in foul, steaming irradiated waters until he\n gagged. They brought him weird concoctions to eat and drink and then\n stood over him until he consumed them. They purged and massaged and\n exercised him.\n\n\n Whenever they let him alone, he simply collapsed into bed and slept.\n There was nothing else to do anyway. They'd taken his clothes; and the\n phone, after an announcement that he would have no more service for two\n weeks, gave him nothing but a busy signal.\n\n\n \"Persecution, that's what it is!\" he moaned desperately. And he turned\n his back to the mirror, which showed him that he was beginning to look\n flesh-colored instead of the parchment yellow to which he had become\n accustomed. He closed his mind to the fact that he was sleeping for\n hours on end like the proverbial baby, and that he was getting such an\n appetite that he could almost relish even that detestable mush they\n sent him for breakfast. He was determined to be furious. As soon as he\n could wake up enough to be.\n\n\n He hadn't been awake long this time before Jake Ellis was there again,\n still moaning about his lack of treatments. \"Nothin' yet,\" he gloomily\n informed Harp. \"They haven't been near me. I just can't understand it.\n After I signed up for the works and paid 'em in advance! And I can't\n find any way out of this section. The other two rooms are empty and the\n elevator hasn't got any button. The robots just have to come and get a\n man or he's stuck.\"\n\n\n \"Stuck!\" snarled Harp. \"I'm never stuck! And I'm damned if I'll wait\n any longer to break out of this—this jail! Listen, Jake. I've been\n thinking. Or trying to, with what's left of me. You came in just when\n that assinine clerk was registering me. I'll bet that clerk got rattled\n and gave me the wrong key. I'll bet you're supposed to have this room\n and I'm getting your treatments. Why don't we switch rooms and see what\n happens?\"\n\n\n \"Say, maybe you're right!\" Jake's eyes gleamed at last with hope. \"I'll\n get my clothes.\"\n\n\n Harp's eyebrows rose. \"You mean they left you your clothes?\"\n\n\n \"Why, sure. You mean they took yours?\"\n\n\n Harp nodded. An idea began to formulate. \"Leave your things, will you?\n I'm desperate! I'm going to see the manager of this madhouse if I have\n to go down dressed in a sheet. Your clothes would be better than that.\"\n\n\n Jake, looking over Harper's skimpy frame, grunted doubtfully. \"Maybe\n you could tie 'em on so they wouldn't slip. And roll up the cuffs. It's\n okay with me, but just don't lose something when you're down there in\n that fancy lobby.\"\n\n\n Harper looked at his watch. \"Time to go. Relax, old man. The robots\n will be along any minute now. If you're the only man in the room, I'm\n sure they'll take you. They aren't equipped to figure it out. And don't\n worry about me. I'll anchor your duds all right.\"\n\n\n Harper had guessed right. Gleefully from the doorway of his new room\n he watched the robots wheel away his equally delighted neighbor for\n his first treatment. Then he closed the door and began to don Jake's\n clothing.\n\n\n The result was unique. He looked like a small boy in his father's\n clothes, except for the remarkably aged and gnome-like head sticking\n up on a skinny neck from a collar three sizes too big. And he was\n shoeless. He was completely unable to navigate in Jake's number\n twelves. But Harper was a determined man. He didn't even flinch from\n his image in the mirror. Firmly he stepped over to Jake's telephone.\n \"This is room 618,\" he said authoritatively. \"Send up the elevator for\n me. I want to go down to the lobby.\"\n\n\n He'd guessed right again. \"It will be right up, sir,\" responded the\n robot operator. Hopefully he stepped out into the hall and shuffled to\n the elevator.\nOnly the robots were immune to Harper Breen's progress across the huge\n suave lobby.\n\n\n He was a blot on its rich beauty, a grotesque enigma that rooted the\n other visitors into paralyzed staring groups. Stepping out of the\n elevator, he had laid a course for the desk which loomed like an island\n in a moss-gray lake, and now he strode manfully toward it, ignoring the\n oversize trousers slapping around his stocking feet. Only the robots\n shared his self control.\n\n\n The clerk was the first to recover from the collective stupor.\n Frantically he pushed the button that would summon the robot guard.\n With a gasp of relief he saw the two massive manlike machines moving\n inexorably forward. He pointed to Harper. \"Get that patient!\" he\n ordered. \"Take him to the—to the mud-baths!\"\n\n\n \"No you don't!\" yelled Harper. \"I want to see the manager!\" Nimbly he\n circled the guard and leaped behind the desk. He began to throw things\n at the robots. Things like inkwells and typewriters and card indexes.\n Especially, card indexes.\n\n\n \"Stop it!\" begged the clerk. \"You'll wreck the system! We'll never get\n it straight again! Stop it!\"\n\n\n \"Call them off!\" snarled Harper. \"Call them off or I'll ruin your\n switchboard!\" He put a shoulder against it and prepared to heave.\n\n\n With one last appalled glare at the madman, the clerk picked up an\n electric finger and pointed it at the approaching robots. They became\n oddly inanimate.\n\n\n \"That's better!\" Harper straightened up and meticulously smoothed the\n collar of his flapping coat. \"Now—the manager, please.\"\n\n\n \"This—this way, sir.\" With shrinking steps the clerk led Harper across\n the width of the lobby among the fascinated guests. He was beyond\n speech. Opening the inconspicuous door, he waved Harper inside and\n returned doggedly to his desk, where he began to pick up things and at\n the same time phrase his resignation in his mind.\n\n\n Brushing aside the startled secretary in the outer cubicle, Harper\n flapped and shuffled straight into the inner sanctum. The manager, who\n was busy chewing a cigar to shreds behind his fortress of gun metal\n desk, jerked hastily upright and glared at the intruder. \"My good\n man—\" he began.\n\n\n \"Don't 'my-good-man' me!\" snapped Harper. He glared back at the\n manager. Reaching as far across the expanse of desktop as he could\n stretch, he shook his puny fist. \"Do you know who I am? I'm Harper\n S. Breen, of Breen and Helgart, Incorporated! And do you know why I\n haven't even a card to prove it? Do you know why I have to make my way\n downstairs in garb that makes a laughing stock of me? Do you know why?\n Because that assinine clerk of yours put me in the wrong room and those\n damnable robots of yours then proceeded to make a prisoner of me! Me,\n Harper S. Breen! Why, I'll sue you until you'll be lucky if you have a\n sheet of writing-paper left in this idiot's retreat!\"\n\n\n Hayes, the manager, blanched. Then he began to mottle in an apoplectic\n pattern. And suddenly with a gusty sigh, he collapsed into his chair.\n With a shaking hand he mopped his forehead. \"\nMy\nrobots!\" he muttered.\n \"As if I invented the damned things!\"\n\n\n Despondently he looked at Harper. \"Go ahead and sue, Mr. Breen. If you\n don't, somebody else will. And if nobody sues, we'll go broke anyway,\n at the rate our guest list is declining. I'm ready to hand in my\n resignation.\"\n\n\n Again he sighed. \"The trouble,\" he explained, \"is that those fool\n robots are completely logical, and people aren't. There's no way to mix\n the two. It's dynamite. Maybe people can gradually learn to live with\n robots, but they haven't yet. Only we had to find it out the hard way.\n We—\" he grimaced disgustedly—\"had to pioneer in the use of robots.\n And it cost us so much that we can't afford to reconvert to human help.\n So—Operation Robot is about to bankrupt the syndicate.\"\n\n\n Listening, an amazing calm settled on Harper. Thoughtfully now he\n hooked a chair to the desk with his stockinged foot, sat down and\n reached for the cigar that Hayes automatically offered him. \"Oh, I\n don't know,\" he said mildly.\n\n\n Hayes leaned forward like a drowning man sighting a liferaft. \"What\n do you mean, you don't know? You're threatening to take our shirts,\n aren't you?\"\n\n\n Meticulously Harper clipped and lit his cigar. \"It seems to me that\n these robots might be useful in quite another capacity. I might even\n make a deal with your syndicate to take them off your hands—at a\n reasonable price, of course—and forget the outrages I've suffered at\n your establishment.\"\n\n\n Hayes leaned toward him incredulous. \"You mean you want these robots\n after what you've seen and experienced?\"\n\n\n Placidly Harper puffed a smoke ring. \"Of course, you'd have to take\n into consideration that it would be an experiment for me, too. And\n there's the suit I'm clearly justified in instituting. However, I'm\n willing to discuss the matter with your superiors.\"\n\n\n With hope burgeoning for the first time in weeks, Hayes lifted his\n head. \"My dear Mr. Breen, to get rid of these pestiferous robots, I'll\n back you to the hilt! I'll notify the owners at once. At once, Mr.\n Breen! And while we wait for them, allow me to put you up as a guest of\n the hotel.\" Coming around to Harper, he effusively shook Harp's scrawny\n hand, and then personally escorted him not merely to the door but\n across the lobby to the elevator.\n\n\n Harper gazed out at the stunned audience. This was more like the\n treatment he was accustomed to! Haughtily he squared his bony shoulders\n inside the immense jacket and stepped into the elevator. He was ready\n for the second step of his private Operation Robot.\nBack on Earth it was a warm, misty spring day—the kind of day unknown\n to the planet Mars. Bella and Scribney, superb in new spring outfits,\n waited restlessly while the rocket cooled and the passengers recovered\n from deceleration.\n\n\n \"Look, Scrib!\" Bella clutched Scribney's substantial arm. \"It's finally\n opening.\"\n\n\n They watched the airlock open and the platform wheel into place. They\n watched the passengers descend, looking a trifle dazed.\n\n\n \"There he is!\" cried Bella. \"Why, doesn't he look wonderful! Scrib,\n it's amazing! Look at him!\n\n\n And indeed, Harper was stepping briskly downward, looking spry and fit\n and years younger. He came across to them actually beaming. It was the\n first pleasant expression they had seen on his face in years.\n\n\n \"Well, you old dog!\" exclaimed Scribney affectionately. \"So you did it\n again!\"\n\n\n Harper smirked. \"Yep, I turned a neat little deal. I bought out\n Hagerty's Enzymes and staffed the plant with the hotel's robots. Got\n both of 'em dirt cheap. Both concerns going bankrupt because they\n didn't have sense enough to swap their workers. Feel I owe you a bit\n for that tip about enzymes, Scrib, so I made out a block of stock to\n you. All right?\"\n\n\n \"All right?\" Scribney gulped. Why, the dried-up little turnip was human\n after all. \"All right! Yes, sir! But aren't you going to use some of\n those robots for office help? Aren't they efficient and all that?\"\n\n\n Harper's smile vanished. \"Don't even mention such a thing!\" he yelped.\n \"You don't know what you're saying! I lived with those things for\n weeks. I wouldn't have one around! Keep 'em in the factory where they\n belong!\"\n\n\n He glimpsed the composed, wonderfully human face of his secretary,\n waiting patiently in the background. \"Oh there you are, Smythe.\" He\n turned to his relatives. \"Busy day ahead. See you later, folks—\"\n\n\n \"Same old Harp,\" observed Scribney. Then he thought of the block of\n stock. \"What say we celebrate our rise to a position in the syndicate,\n honey?\"\n\n\n \"Wonderful!\" She squeezed his arm, and smiling at each other, they left\n the port.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How would one describe Emerald Star Hotel?", "question_unique_id": "63616_MQ1O9T2Q_1", "options": ["An uncomfortable and unrelaxing hotel meant for short stays.", "A place made for business conferences.", "A place just like a hospital.", "An upscale and high-tech retreat."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "By the end of the article, would Harper's opinion of Mrs. Jacobsen at the front desk be different?", "question_unique_id": "63616_MQ1O9T2Q_2", "options": ["No, because he did not have the same issue with the robots that she had.", "No, because he would still believe that her complaints were unreasonable.", "Yes, because he also believes the hotel is overpriced.", "Yes, because Harper also had a frustrating experience with the robots."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Harper's opinion on the place of robots in the workforce change by the end of the article?", "question_unique_id": "63616_MQ1O9T2Q_3", "options": ["He would think that it was not the robots that had problems at the hotel. Instead, it was the human management of the hotel causing the problems.", "He would believe that robots do not operate well in hotels, but they have the potential to work well in other service jobs.", "He would believe that robots do not excel in customer service, and they are better at less personable jobs.", "He would think robots should not be employed in any area of the workforce."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Though the robots were the main issue at the hotel, was human error still an issue in Harper's overall stay?", "question_unique_id": "63616_MQ1O9T2Q_4", "options": ["Yes, because Harper was continuously bothered by complaining patrons.", "No, because the robots were the ones causing all the issues and complaints.", "No, because humans were not involved in the hotel's main matters.", "Yes, because the human desk clerk had given him the wrong room."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Harper and Jake Ellis intend to have different experiences during their stay at the hotel?", "question_unique_id": "63616_MQ1O9T2Q_5", "options": ["Jake Ellis wanted to receive wellness treatments while Harper simply wanted an uninterrupted stay.", "Jake Ellis intended to make business deals while on vacation while Harper intended to relax.", "Harper had intended on meeting Jake Ellis to buy his company, while Jake Ellis did not plan to meet him.", "Only Harper was assigned the wrong room and received the wrong treatment during his stay."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Harper able to buy the hotel's robots for such a cheap price?", "question_unique_id": "63616_MQ1O9T2Q_6", "options": ["Harper befriended the hotel manager and convinced him to sell the robots to him for cheap.", "The hotel could not find anyone other than Harper to sell the robots to.", "Harper had threatened to put the hotel out of business if they did not sell the robots to him.", "The hotel was failing, so the company was happy to get rid of the robots."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/1/63616//63616-h//63616-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61467", "set_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1011", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Muck Man", "year": 1958, "author": "Dodge, Fremont", "topic": "Prisoners -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction; Survival -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Metamorphosis -- Fiction", "article": "MUCK MAN\nBY FREMONT DODGE\nThe work wasn't hard, but there were some sacrifices.\n\n You had to give up hope and freedom—and being human!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, November 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nI\n\n\n The girl with the Slider egg glittering in her hair watched the\n bailiff lead Asa Graybar out of the courtroom. He recognized her as\n old Hazeltyne's daughter Harriet, no doubt come to see justice done.\n She didn't have the hothouse-flower look Asa would have expected in a\n girl whose father owned the most valuable of the planetary franchises.\n She was not afraid to meet his eye, the eye of a judicially certified\n criminal. There was, perhaps, a crease of puzzlement in her brow, as if\n she had thought crimes were committed by shriveled, rat-faced types,\n and not by young biological engineers who still affected crewcuts.\n\n\n Tom Dorr, Hazeltyne's general manager, was her escort. Asa felt\n certain, without proof, that Dorr was the man who had framed him for\n the charge of grand theft by secreting a fresh Slider egg in his\n laboratory. The older man stared at Asa coldly as he was led out of\n the courtroom and down the corridor back to jail.\n\n\n Jumpy, Asa's cellmate, took one look at his face as he was put back\n behind bars.\n\n\n \"Guilty,\" Jumpy said.\n\n\n Asa glared at him.\n\n\n \"I know, I know,\" Jumpy said hastily. \"You were framed. But what's the\n rap?\"\n\n\n \"Five or one.\"\n\n\n \"Take the five,\" Jumpy advised. \"Learn basket-weaving in a nice\n air-conditioned rehab clinic. A year on a changeling deal will seem a\n lot longer, even if you're lucky enough to live through it.\"\n\n\n Asa took four steps to the far wall of the cell, stood there briefly\n with his head bent and turned to face Jumpy.\n\n\n \"Nope,\" Asa said softly. \"I'm going into a conversion tank. I'm going\n to be a muck man, Jumpy. I'm going out to Jordan's Planet and hunt\n Slider eggs.\"\n\n\n \"Smuggling? It won't work.\"\n\n\n Asa didn't answer. The Hazeltyne company had gone after him because\n he had been working on a method of keeping Slider eggs alive. The\n Hazeltyne company would be happy to see him mark time for five years\n of so-called social reorientation. But if he could get out to Jordan's\n Planet, with his physiology adapted to the environment of that wretched\n world, he could study the eggs under conditions no laboratory could\n duplicate. He might even be able to cause trouble for Hazeltyne.\n\n\n His only problem would be staying alive for a year.\nAn interview with a doctor from the Conversion Corps was required\n for all persons who elected changeling status. The law stated that\n potential changelings must be fully informed of the rights and hazards\n of altered shape before they signed a release. The requirement held\n whether or not the individual, like Asa, was already experienced.\n\n\n By the time humanity traveled to the stars, medical biology had made\n it possible to regenerate damaged or deficient organs of the body.\n Regeneration was limited only by advanced age. Sometime after a man's\n two hundredth year his body lost the ability to be coaxed into growing\n new cells. A fifth set of teeth was usually one's last. As long as\n senescence could be staved off, however, any man could have bulging\n biceps and a pencil waist, if he could pay for the treatment.\n\n\n Until the medical associations declared such treatments unethical there\n was even a short fad of deliberate deformities, with horns at the\n temples particularly popular.\n\n\n From regeneration it was a short step to specialized regrowth. The\n techniques were perfected to adapt humans to the dozen barely habitable\n worlds man had discovered. Even on Mars, the only planet outside Earth\n in the solar system where the human anatomy was remotely suitable, a\n man could work more efficiently with redesigned lungs and temperature\n controls than he could inside a pressure suit. On more bizarre planets\n a few light-years away the advantages of changeling bodies were\n greater.\n\n\n Unfortunately for planetary development companies, hardly anyone\n wanted to become a changeling. High pay lured few. So a law was passed\n permitting a convicted criminal to earn his freedom by putting in one\n year as a changeling for every five years he would otherwise have had\n to spend in rehabilitation.\n\n\n \"What types of changelings do you have orders for right now, doctor?\"\n Asa asked the man assigned to his case. It would look suspicious if he\n asked for Jordan's Planet without some preliminary questions.\n\n\n \"Four,\" answered the doctor.\n\n\n \"Squiffs for New Arcady. Adapted for climbing the skycraper trees and\n with the arm structure modified into pseudo-wings or gliding. Then we\n need spiderinos for Von Neumann Two. If you want the nearest thing we\n have to Earth, there's Caesar's Moon, where we'd just have to double\n your tolerance for carbon monoxide and make you a bigger and better\n gorilla than the natives. Last, of course, there's always a need for\n muck men on Jordan's Planet.\"\n\n\n The doctor shrugged, as if naturally no one could be expected to\n choose Jordan's Planet. Asa frowned in apparent consideration of the\n alternatives.\n\n\n \"What's the pay range?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Ten dollars a day on Caesar's Moon. Fifteen on New Arcady or Von\n Neumann Two. Twenty-five on Jordan's.\"\n\n\n Asa raised his eyebrows.\n\n\n \"Why such a difference? Everyone knows about muck men living in the\n mud while they hunt Slider eggs. But don't your conversions make the\n changeling comfortable in his new environment?\"\n\n\n \"Sure they do,\" said the doctor. \"We can make you think mud feels\n better than chinchilla fur and we can have you jumping like a\n grasshopper despite the double gravity. But we can't make you like the\n sight of yourself. And we can't guarantee that a Slider won't kill you.\"\n\n\n \"Still,\" Asa mused aloud, \"it would mean a nice bankroll waiting at the\n end of the year.\"\n\n\n He leaned forward to fill in the necessary form.\nSince it was cheaper to transport a normal human than to rig special\n environments in a spaceship, every planet operated its own conversion\n chambers. On the space freighter that carried him from Earth Asa\n Graybar was confined to a small cabin that was opened only for a guard\n to bring meals and take out dirty dishes. He was still a prisoner.\n\n\n Sometimes he could hear voices in the passageway outside, and once\n one of them sounded like a woman's. But since women neither served on\n spaceships nor worked in the dome settlements on harsher worlds, he\n decided it was his imagination. He might have been dead cargo for all\n he learned about space travel.\n\n\n Nevertheless his time was not wasted. He had as a companion, or\n cellmate, another convict who had elected conversion to muck man. More\n important, his companion had done time on Jordan's Planet before and\n had wanted to return.\n\n\n \"It's the Slider eggs,\" explained Kershaw, the two-time loser. \"The\n ones you see on Earth knock your eyes out, but they've already begun\n to die. There's nothing like a fresh one. And I'm not the first to\n go crazy over them. When I was reconverted and got home I had nine\n thousand dollars waiting for me. That'll buy a two-year-old egg that\n flashes maybe four times a day. So I stole a new one and got caught.\"\n\n\n Asa had held a Slider egg in his hand as he gazed into it. He could\n understand. The shell was clear as crystal, taut but elastic, while\n the albumen was just as clear around the sparkling network of organic\n filaments that served as a yolk. Along these interior threads played\n tiny flashes of lightning, part of some unexplained process of life.\n Electrical instruments picked up static discharges from the egg, but\n the phenomenon remained a mystery.\n\n\n Hardly anyone faced with the beauty of a Slider's egg bothered to\n question its workings. For a few expectant moments there would be only\n random, fitful gleamings, and then there would be a wild coruscation of\n light, dancing from one filament to the next in a frenzy of brilliance.\n\n\n It took about four years for a Slider egg to die. Beauty, rarity and\n fading value made the eggs a luxury item like nothing the world had\n ever seen. If Asa had found a means of keeping them alive it would have\n made him wealthy at the expense of the Hazeltyne monopoly.\n\n\n \"You know what I think?\" Kershaw asked. \"I think those flashes are\n the egg calling its momma. They sparkle like a million diamonds when\n you scoop one out of the muck, and right away a Slider always comes\n swooping out of nowhere at you.\"\n\n\n \"I've been meaning to ask you,\" Asa said. \"How do you handle the\n Sliders?\"\n\n\n Kershaw grinned.\n\n\n \"First you try to catch it with a rocket. If you miss you start leaping\n for home. All this time you're broadcasting for help, you understand.\n When the Slider catches you, you leap up while it buries its jaws in\n the mud where you were just standing. You dig your claws in its back\n and hang on while it rolls around in the mud. Finally, if the 'copter\n comes—and if they don't shoot off your head by mistake—you live to\n tell the tale.\"\nII\n\n\n Asa Graybar kept his normal form on Jordan's Planet just long enough to\n learn the discomfort of double gravity. He was told he needed another\n physical examination and was taken right in to a doctor. His heart was\n pounding to keep his blood circulating on this massive world, but the\n doctor had apparently learned to make allowances.\n\n\n \"Swallow this,\" said the doctor after making a series of tests.\n\n\n Asa swallowed the capsule. Two minutes later he felt himself beginning\n to lose consciousness.\n\n\n \"This is it!\" he thought in panic.\n\n\n He felt someone ease him back down onto a wheeled stretcher. Before\n consciousness faded completely he realized that no one got a chance\n to back out of becoming a changeling, that he was on his way to the\n conversion tank right now.\n\n\n When he finally awoke he felt well rested and very comfortable. But for\n a long time he was afraid to open his eyes.\n\n\n \"Come on, Graybar,\" said a deep, booming voice. \"Let's test our wings.\"\n\n\n It was not Kershaw's voice, but it had to be Kershaw. Asa opened his\n eyes.\n\n\n Everyone had seen pictures of muck men. It was different having one\n stand beside you. Kershaw looked much like an enormous frog except that\n his head was still mostly human. He was sitting on webbed feet, his\n lower legs bent double under huge thighs, and his trunk tilted forward\n so that his arms dangled to the ground. The arms were as thick around\n as an ordinary man's legs. The hands had become efficient scoops, with\n broad fingers webbed to the first joint and tipped with spade-like\n claws. The skin was still pinkish but had become scaly. Not a thread of\n hair showed anywhere on the body, not even on the head.\n\n\n This, Asa realized, was what he looked like himself.\n\n\n It would have been more bearable if the head had not retained strong\n traces of humanity. The nostrils flared wide and the jaws hardly\n emerged from the neck, but the ears were human ears and the eyes, under\n those horny ridges, were human eyes. Asa felt sure that the eyes could\n still weep.\n\n\n He started to walk forward and tipped over on his side. Kershaw laughed.\n\n\n \"Come to daddy, babykins,\" Kershaw said, holding out his hands. \"Only\n try hopping this time. And take it easy.\"\n\n\n Asa pushed himself upright with one arm and tried a small hop. Nerve\n and muscle coordination was perfect. He found himself leaping as high\n as Kershaw's head.\n\n\n \"That's the way,\" Kershaw said approvingly. \"Now get this on and we'll\n go outside.\"\n\n\n Asa snapped on a belt and breech cloth combination that had flaps of\n fabric dangling from the belt in front and behind. He followed as\n Kershaw pushed open a sliding door to lead the way out of the room\n where they had been left to revive from conversion.\nThey went into a courtyard partly covered by a roof projecting from\n the Hazeltyne company's dome settlement. The far half of the courtyard\n was open to the gray drizzle that fell almost ceaselessly from the sky\n of Jordan's Planet and turned most of its surface into marsh and mud\n flats. A high wall enclosed the far portion of the courtyard. Ranged\n along the wall were thirty stalls for muck men.\n\n\n From fifty yards across the courtyard a muck man bounded over to them\n in two leaps. Attached to a harness across his shoulders and chest were\n a gun and a long knife.\n\n\n \"Names?\" he growled. He was a foot taller than Graybar and big\n everywhere in proportion.\n\n\n \"Kershaw. I'm back, Furston.\"\n\n\n \"I'm Graybar.\"\n\n\n \"Kershaw again? Just start in where you left off, sucker. Come on,\n you.\" He pointed to Asa and leaped to the open portion of the courtyard.\n\n\n \"Do what he says,\" Kershaw whispered to Graybar. \"He's sort of a trusty\n and warden and parole officer rolled into one.\"\n\n\n Asa was put through a series of exercises to get him used to his\n distorted body, to teach him how to leap and how to dig. He was shown\n how to operate the radio he would carry and how to fire the pencil-slim\n rockets of this gun. Finally he was told to eat a few berries from a\n native vine. He did so and immediately vomited.\n\n\n Furston laughed.\n\n\n \"That's to remind you you're still a man,\" Furston said, grinning.\n \"Everything that grows on this planet is poison. So if you got any\n ideas of hiding out till your term is up, forget 'em. Right here is\n where you eat.\"\n\n\n Asa turned without a word and hopped feebly away from Furston. He\n lifted his head to breathe deeply and saw two humans watching him from\n an observation tower on the roof.\n\n\n He leaped twenty feet into the air for a closer look.\n\n\n Gazing at him with repugnance, after witnessing the end of his session\n with Furston, were Harriet Hazeltyne and general manager Tom Dorr.\n\n\n The girl's presence merely puzzled Asa, but Dorr's being here worried\n him. Dorr had tried to get rid of him once and was now in an excellent\n position to make the riddance permanent.\n\n\n At supper that night, squatting on the ground beside a low table with\n the dozen other muck men operating from the dome, Asa asked what the\n two were doing out here.\n\n\n \"The girl will inherit this racket some day, won't she?\" asked one of\n the others. \"She wants to see what kind of suckers are making her rich.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe that guy Dorr brought her along to show her what a big wheel\n he is,\" said one of the others. \"Just hope he doesn't take over the\n operations.\"\nIII\n\n\n Next morning Furston passed out guns, knives, radios, and pouches to\n carry any eggs the muck men found. He gave each man a compass and\n assigned the sectors to be worked during the day. Finally he called\n Graybar aside.\n\n\n \"In case you don't like it here,\" Furston said, \"you can get a week\n knocked off your sentence for every egg you bring in. Now get out there\n and work that muck.\"\n\n\n Furston sent Graybar and Kershaw out together so that the veteran could\n show Asa the ropes. Asa had already learned that the wall around the\n courtyard was to keep Sliders out, not muck men in. He leaped over it\n and hopped along after Kershaw.\n\n\n Feet slapping against the mud, they went about five miles from the\n Hazeltyne station, swimming easily across ponds too broad to jump. The\n mud, if not precisely as pleasant to the touch as chinchilla fur, was\n not at all uncomfortable, and the dripping air caressed their skins\n like a summer breeze back on Earth. Tiny, slippery creatures skidded\n and splashed out of their way. Finally Kershaw stopped. His experienced\n eye had seen a trail of swamp weeds crushed low into the mud.\n\n\n \"Keep your eyes open,\" Kershaw said. \"There's a Slider been around here\n lately. If you see something like an express train headed our way,\n start shooting.\"\n\n\n At each leap along the trail they peered quickly around. They saw no\n Sliders, but this meant little, for the beasts lived under the mud as\n much as on top of it.\n\n\n Kershaw halted again when they came to a roughly circular area some ten\n yards in diameter where the weeds had been torn out and lay rotting in\n the muck.\n\n\n \"We're in luck,\" he said as Asa skidded to a stop at his side. \"An egg\n was laid somewhere here within the last week. These places are hard to\n spot when the new weeds start growing.\"\n\n\n Kershaw took a long look around.\n\n\n \"No trouble in sight. We dig.\"\n\n\n They started at the center of the cleared area, shoveling up great gobs\n of mud with their hands and flinging them out of the clearing. Usually\n a muck man dug in a spiral out from the center, but Graybar and Kershaw\n dug in gradually widening semi-circles opposite each other. They had\n to dig four feet deep, and it was slow going until they had a pit\n big enough to stand in. Each handful of mud had to be squeezed gently\n before it was thrown away, to make sure it didn't conceal an egg. As he\n worked, Asa kept thinking what an inefficient system it was. Everything\n about the operation was wrong.\n\n\n \"Got it!\" Kershaw shouted. He leaped out of the pit and started wiping\n slime off a round object the size of a baseball. Asa jumped out to\n watch.\n\n\n \"A big one,\" Kershaw said. He held it, still smeared with traces of\n mud, lovingly to his cheek, and then lifted it to eye level. \"Just look\n at it.\"\nA SLIDER EGG\nThe egg was flashing with a mad radiance, like a thousand diamonds\n being splintered under a brilliant sun. Static crackled in Asa's\n earphones and he thought of what Kershaw had said, that the\n scintillation of an egg was an effect of its calls to a mother Slider\n for help. Asa looked around.\n\n\n \"Jump!\" he shouted.\n\n\n At the edge of the clearing a segmented length of greenish black\n scales, some two feet thick and six feet high, had reared up out of the\n weeds. The top segment was almost all mouth, already opened to show row\n upon row of teeth. Before Asa could draw his gun the Slider lowered\n its head to the ground, dug two front flippers into the mud and shot\n forward.\n\n\n Asa leaped with all his strength, sailing far out of the clearing.\n While he was still in the air he snapped the mouthpiece of his radio\n down from where it was hinged over his head. As he landed he turned\n instantly, his gun in his hand.\n\n\n \"Calling the 'copter!\" he spoke rapidly into the mouthpiece. \"Kershaw\n and Graybar, sector eight, five miles out. Hurry!\"\n\n\n \"Graybar?\" asked a voice in his earphone. \"What's up?\"\n\n\n \"We've got an egg but a Slider wants it back.\"\n\n\n \"On the way.\"\n\n\n Asa hopped back to the clearing. Kershaw must have been bowled over by\n the Slider's first rush, for he was trying to hop on one leg as if the\n other had been broken. The egg lay flickering on top of the mud where\n Kershaw had dropped it. The Slider, eight flippers on each side working\n madly, was twisting its thirty feet of wormlike body around for another\n charge.\n\n\n Aiming hastily, Asa fired a rocket at the monster's middle segment. The\n rocket smashed through hard scales and exploded in a fountain of gray\n flesh. The Slider writhed, coating its wound in mud, and twisted toward\n Asa. He leaped to one side, firing from the air and missing, and saw\n the Slider turn toward the patch of weeds where he would land. His legs\n were tensed to leap again the moment he hit the mud, but he saw the\n Slider would be on top of him before he could escape. As he landed he\n thrust his gun forward almost into the mouth of the creature and fired\n again.\nEven as he was knocked aside into the muck, Asa's body was showered\n with shreds of alien flesh scattered by the rocket's explosion.\n Desperately pushing himself to his feet, he saw the long headless body\n shiver and lie still.\nAsa took a deep breath and looked around.\n\n\n \"Kershaw!\" he called. \"Where are you?\"\n\n\n \"Over here.\" Kershaw stood briefly above the weeds and fell back again.\n Asa leaped over to him.\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" Kershaw said. \"Muck men stick together. You'll make a good\n one. I wouldn't have had a chance. My leg's busted.\"\n\n\n \"The helicopter ought to be here pretty soon,\" Asa said. He looked over\n at the dead Slider and shook his head. \"Tell me, what are the odds on\n getting killed doing this?\"\n\n\n \"Last time I was here there was about one mucker killed for every six\n eggs brought out. Of course you're not supposed to stand there admiring\n the eggs like I did while a Slider comes up on you.\"\n\n\n Asa hopped over to the egg, which was still full of a dancing radiance\n where it rested on the mud. He scooped a hole in the muck and buried\n the egg.\n\n\n \"Just in case there are any more Sliders around,\" he explained.\n\n\n \"Makes no difference,\" said Kershaw, pointing upward. \"Here comes the\n 'copter, late as usual.\"\n\n\n The big machine circled them, hovered to inspect the dead Slider, and\n settled down on broad skids. Through the transparent nose Asa could see\n Tom Dorr and Harriet Hazeltyne. The company manager swung the door open\n and leaned out.\n\n\n \"I see you took care of the Slider,\" he said. \"Hand over the egg.\"\n\n\n \"Kershaw has a broken leg,\" Asa said. \"I'll help him in and then I'll\n get the egg.\"\n\n\n While Kershaw grabbed the door frame to help pull himself into the\n helicopter, Asa got under his companion's belly and lifted him by the\n waist. He hadn't realized before just how strong his new body was.\n Kershaw, as a muck man, would have weighed close to three hundred\n pounds on Earth, close to six hundred here.\n\n\n Dorr made no move to help, but the girl reached under Kershaw's\n shoulder and strained to get him in. Once he was inside, Asa saw, the\n cabin was crowded.\n\n\n \"Are you going to have room for me too?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Not this trip,\" Dorr answered. \"Now give me the egg.\"\n\n\n Asa didn't hesitate. \"The egg stays with me,\" he said softly.\n\n\n \"You do what I tell you, mucker,\" said Dorr.\n\n\n \"Nope. I want to make sure you come back.\" Asa turned his head to\n Harriet. \"You see, Miss Hazeltyne, I don't trust your friend. You might\n ask him to tell you about it.\"\n\n\n Dorr stared at him with narrowed eyes. Suddenly he smiled in a way that\n worried Asa.\n\n\n \"Whatever you say, Graybar,\" Dorr said. He turned to the controls. In\n another minute the helicopter was in the sky.\nA round trip for the helicopter should have taken no more than twenty\n minutes, allowing time for Kershaw to be taken out at the settlement.\n\n\n After an hour passed Asa began to worry. He was sure Dorr would return\n for the egg. Finally he realized that Dorr could locate the egg\n approximately by the body of the dead Slider. Dorr could return for the\n egg any time with some other muck man to dig for it.\n\n\n Asa pulled down the mouthpiece of his radio.\n\n\n \"This is Graybar, calling the helicopter,\" he said. \"When are you\n coming?\"\n\n\n There was no answer except the hum of carrier wave.\n\n\n If he tried to carry the egg back, Asa knew, Sliders would attack him\n all along the way. A man had no chance of getting five miles with an\n egg by himself. He could leave the egg here, of course. Even so he\n would be lucky if he got back, following a hazy compass course from\n which he and Kershaw had certainly deviated on their outward trip.\n There were no landmarks in this wilderness of bog to help him find his\n way. The workers were supposed to home in on radio signals, if they\n lost their bearings, but Dorr would deny him that help.\n\n\n What was the night like on Jordan's Planet? Maybe Sliders slept at\n night. If he could stay awake, and if he didn't faint from hunger in\n this strange new body, and if the Sliders left him alone....\n\n\n A whirring noise made Asa jump in alarm.\n\n\n Then he smiled in relief, for it was the helicopter, the blessed\n helicopter, coming in over the swamp. But what if it was Dorr, coming\n back alone to dispose of him without any witnesses? Asa leaped for the\n carcass of the dead Slider and took shelter behind it.\n\n\n No machine-gun blast of rockets came from the helicopter. The big\n machine swooped low dizzily, tilted back in an inexpert attempt to\n hover, thumped down upon the mud and slid forward. As Asa jumped aside,\n the landing skids caught against the Slider's body and the helicopter\n flipped forward on its nose, one of the rotor blades plunging deep into\n the mud.\n\n\n Asa leaped forward in consternation. Not only was his chance of safe\n passage back to the settlement wrecked, but now he would have the\n extra burden of taking care of the pilot. When he reached the nose\n of the helicopter he saw that the pilot, untangling herself from the\n controls to get up, was Harriet Hazeltyne.\nIV\n\n\n \"Are you hurt?\" Asa asked her. She reached for his shoulder to steady\n herself as she climbed out of the machine.\n\n\n \"I guess not,\" she said. \"But taking a fall in this gravity is no fun.\n From the way my face feels I ought to be getting a black eye pretty\n soon.\"\n\n\n \"What happened?\"\n\n\n \"I made a fool of myself.\" She made a face back in the direction of\n the settlement. \"Dorr wasn't going to come after you. He said anyone\n who talked back to him should try arguing with the Sliders.\"\n\n\n She looked up at the machine-gun on the helicopter.\n\n\n \"They feed at night, you know. And they eat their own kind,\" she said.\n \"The Slider you killed would draw them like ants to jam.\"\n\n\n Asa glanced around quickly to make sure no Sliders had already come. He\n eyed the helicopter with distaste at the thought of what a flimsy fort\n it would make.\n\n\n \"Anyway,\" Harriet said, \"I told him he couldn't just leave you here\n and we started arguing. I lost my temper. He thought he had brought me\n to Jordan's Planet on a fancy tour. I told him the real reason I was\n here was to check up for my father on the way he was running things and\n there seemed to be a lot wrong. So he told me very politely I could run\n things to suit myself and he walked off.\"\n\n\n She shrugged, as if to indicate that she had made a mess of things.\n\n\n \"And you took the helicopter by yourself,\" Asa said, as if he could\n hardly believe it yet.\n\n\n \"Oh, back on Earth I can make a helicopter do stunts. But I wasn't used\n to this gravity. I don't suppose you could make this machine stand up\n straight?\"\n\n\n Asa tugged at the body of the Slider until he got it off the skids of\n the plane. He pulled with all his strength at the rotor blade sunk in\n the mud, but the weight of the helicopter was upon it and the mud held\n it with a suction of its own. After a few minutes he had to give up.\n\n\n \"We fight off the Sliders, then,\" she said, as matter of factly as if\n that problem was settled. \"If it's any comfort, I know how to handle\n the machine-gun.\"\n\n\n \"Nope. In this drizzle, at night, the Sliders would be on us before\n we could see them. We've got to try to get back.\" He stood in thought\n while she stared at him patiently. \"What happened to the other muck men\n who went out today?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"They were called in when the 'copter came out the first time. Some of\n them may not have got back yet.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What would best describe Asa and Dorr's relationship?", "question_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87_1", "options": ["They dislike each other because they are in a struggle for dominance over Slider egg supply and the Hazeltyne company.", "Asa is afraid of Dorr, especially after being framed.", "They have disdain for each other considering that Dorr is the reason behind why Asa was influenced to live on the treacherous Jordan's Planet.", "They are largely unfamilar with each other, despite the minor disputes they have had."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How would Asa's decision on where to become a changeling been affected if the pay range to work as a muck man on Jordan's Planet was not as high as it was originally listed in the article?", "question_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87_2", "options": ["He would have opted to spend the five years in prison instead because a low pay rate would not justify the dangers of working on Jordan's Planet.", "Asa would have become a muck man anyways because that was his original intention.", "He would have chosen to become a changeling at another place with higher pay.", "Asa would have still opted to become a muck man, but he would have largely been dissapointed with the low pay rate."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the advantage of muck men being shaped like frogs?", "question_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87_3", "options": ["A frog-shaped body warded off Sliders.", "A frog-shaped body helped better cross the terrain on Jordan's Planet.", "A frog-shaped body would ensure prisoners could not leave Jordan's Planet.", "The frog body would be so grotesque that it would make it nearly impossible for prisoners to finish their sentence."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What can you infer about the living conditions on Jordan's Planet?", "question_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87_4", "options": ["Only a human that has a frog-like body can survive the terrain.", "It is a dangerous land, but only at night.", "It is similar to Earth because humans and Earth-like animals can live on it.", "Completely inhospitable for human life without proper interventions."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What were the consequences of Asa meeting Kershaw and Furston?", "question_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87_5", "options": ["Furston saved Kershaw and Asa's life after running into the Slider.", "Kershaw and Furston taught Asa how to deal with Dorr and his devious tactics. ", "Kershaw and Furston discouraged Asa's hopes of being a successful muck man.", "Kershaw and Furston were essential in helping Asa assimilate to his job as a muck man."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would best describe Harriet's attitude towards Dorr?", "question_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87_6", "options": ["She believes he is not competent to run the Hazeltyne company.", "She is saddened by the way he treats the muck men.", "She gets periodically frustrated with his mannerisms.", "She fears Dorr because he is very powerful over the Hazeltyne company."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have been the consequence if Harriet did not come back for Asa with the helicopter?", "question_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87_7", "options": ["Asa would have been able to keep the Slider egg for himself.", "He would have not learned why Dorr did not come back with the hellicopter.", "Asa would not have been able to escape the muck by getting onto the hellicopter and returning.", "Asa would have been eaten by a Slider."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why would a company think it is a logical idea to let prisoners work as muck men on Jordan's Planet?", "question_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87_8", "options": ["Prisoners are more efficient workers than people who are not in prison.", "It is a very dangerous job that only prisoners would be desperate enough to do to lower their prison sentence.", "It is an appropriate punishment that will balance out the crimes committed by prisoners.", "The Hazeltyne company can only afford to employ prisoners."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What would best describe Asa's motive for working as a muck man?", "question_unique_id": "61467_TASABS87_9", "options": ["He is motivated by the high pay rate.", "It was his dream to be a muck man.", "He wants to prove he was framed by Dorr.", "He is seeking revenge. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/6/61467//61467-h//61467-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "52855", "set_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1012", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Star-Sent Knaves", "year": 1955, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "Science fiction; PS", "article": "THE STAR-SENT KNAVES\nBY KEITH LAUMER\n\n\n Illustrated by Gaughan\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of Tomorrow June 1963\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWhen the Great Galactic Union first encounters\n\n Earth ... is this what is going to happen?\nI\n\n\n Clyde W. Snithian was a bald eagle of a man, dark-eyed, pot-bellied,\n with the large, expressive hands of a rug merchant. Round-shouldered\n in a loose cloak, he blinked small reddish eyes at Dan Slane's\n travel-stained six foot one.\n\n\n \"Kelly here tells me you've been demanding to see me.\" He nodded toward\n the florid man at his side. He had a high, thin voice, like something\n that needed oiling. \"Something about important information regarding\n safeguarding my paintings.\"\n\n\n \"That's right, Mr. Snithian,\" Dan said. \"I believe I can be of great\n help to you.\"\n\n\n \"Help how? If you've got ideas of bilking me....\" The red eyes bored\n into Dan like hot pokers.\n\n\n \"Nothing like that, sir. Now, I know you have quite a system of guards\n here—the papers are full of it—\"\n\n\n \"Damned busybodies! Sensation-mongers! If it wasn't for the press,\n I'd have no concern for my paintings today!\"\n\n\n \"Yes sir. But my point is, the one really important spot has been left\n unguarded.\"\n\n\n \"Now, wait a minute—\" Kelly started.\n\n\n \"What's that?\" Snithian cut in.\n\n\n \"You have a hundred and fifty men guarding the house and grounds day\n and night—\"\n\n\n \"Two hundred and twenty-five,\" Kelly snapped.\n\n\n \"—but no one at all in the vault with the paintings,\" Slane finished.\n\n\n \"Of course not,\" Snithian shrilled. \"Why should I post a man in the\n vault? It's under constant surveillance from the corridor outside.\"\n\n\n \"The Harriman paintings were removed from a locked vault,\" Dan said.\n \"There was a special seal on the door. It wasn't broken.\"\n\n\n \"By the saints, he's right,\" Kelly exclaimed. \"Maybe we ought to have a\n man in that vault.\"\n\n\n \"Another idiotic scheme to waste my money,\" Snithian snapped. \"I've\n made you responsible for security here, Kelly! Let's have no more\n nonsense. And throw this nincompoop out!\" Snithian turned and stalked\n away, his cloak flapping at his knees.\n\n\n \"I'll work cheap,\" Dan called after him as Kelly took his arm. \"I'm an\n art lover.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind that,\" Kelly said, escorting Dan along the corridor. He\n turned in at an office and closed the door.\n\n\n \"Now, as the old buzzard said, I'm responsible for security here. If\n those pictures go, my job goes with them. Your vault idea's not bad.\n Just how cheap would you work?\"\n\n\n \"A hundred dollars a week,\" Dan said promptly. \"Plus expenses,\" he\n added.\n\n\n Kelly nodded. \"I'll fingerprint you and run a fast agency check. If\n you're clean, I'll put you on, starting tonight. But keep it quiet.\"\nDan looked around at the gray walls, with shelves stacked to the low\n ceiling with wrapped paintings. Two three-hundred-watt bulbs shed a\n white glare over the tile floor, a neat white refrigerator, a bunk,\n an arm-chair, a bookshelf and a small table set with paper plates,\n plastic utensils and a portable radio—all hastily installed at Kelly's\n order. Dan opened the refrigerator, looked over the stock of salami,\n liverwurst, cheese and beer. He opened a loaf of bread, built up a\n well-filled sandwich, keyed open a can of beer.\n\n\n It wasn't fancy, but it would do. Phase one of the plan had gone off\n without a hitch.\n\n\n Basically, his idea was simple. Art collections had been disappearing\n from closely guarded galleries and homes all over the world. It was\n obvious that no one could enter a locked vault, remove a stack of large\n canvases and leave, unnoticed by watchful guards—and leaving the locks\n undamaged.\n\n\n Yet the paintings were gone. Someone had been in those vaults—someone\n who hadn't entered in the usual way.\n\n\n Theory failed at that point; that left the experimental method. The\n Snithian collection was the largest west of the Mississippi. With\n such a target, the thieves were bound to show up. If Dan sat in the\n vault—day and night—waiting—he would see for himself how they\n operated.\n\n\n He finished his sandwich, went to the shelves and pulled down one of\n the brown-paper bundles. Loosening the string binding the package, he\n slid a painting into view. It was a gaily colored view of an open-air\n cafe, with a group of men and women in gay-ninetyish costumes gathered\n at a table. He seemed to remember reading something about it in a\n magazine. It was a cheerful scene; Dan liked it. Still, it hardly\n seemed worth all the effort....\n\n\n He went to the wall switch and turned off the lights. The orange glow\n of the filaments died, leaving only a faint illumination from the\n night-light over the door. When the thieves arrived, it might give him\n a momentary advantage if his eyes were adjusted to the dark. He groped\n his way to the bunk.\n\n\n So far, so good, he reflected, stretching out. When they showed up,\n he'd have to handle everything just right. If he scared them off\n there'd be no second chance. He would have lost his crack at—whatever\n his discovery might mean to him.\n\n\n But he was ready. Let them come.\nEight hours, three sandwiches and six beers later, Dan roused suddenly\n from a light doze and sat up on the cot. Between him and the crowded\n shelving, a palely luminous framework was materializing in mid-air.\n\n\n The apparition was an open-work cage—about the size and shape of an\n out-house minus the sheathing, Dan estimated breathlessly. Two figures\n were visible within the structure, sitting stiffly in contoured chairs.\n They glowed, if anything, more brightly than the framework.\n\n\n A faint sound cut into the stillness—a descending whine. The cage\n moved jerkily, settling toward the floor. Long blue sparks jumped,\n crackling, to span the closing gap; with a grate of metal, the cage\n settled against the floor. The spectral men reached for ghostly\n switches....\n\n\n The glow died.\n\n\n Dan was aware of his heart thumping painfully under his ribs. His mouth\n was dry. This was the moment he'd been planning for, but now that it\n was here—\n\n\n Never mind. He took a deep breath, ran over the speeches he had\n prepared for the occasion:\nGreeting, visitors from the Future....\nHopelessly corny. What about:\nWelcome to the Twentieth Century....\nNo good; it lacked spontaneity. The men were rising, their backs to\n Dan, stepping out of the skeletal frame. In the dim light it now\n looked like nothing more than a rough frame built of steel pipe, with\n a cluster of levers in a console before the two seats. And the thieves\n looked ordinary enough: Two men in gray coveralls, one slender and\n balding, the other shorter and round-faced. Neither of them noticed\n Dan, sitting rigid on the cot. The thin man placed a lantern on the\n table, twiddled a knob. A warm light sprang up. The visitors looked at\n the stacked shelves.\n\n\n \"Looks like the old boy's been doing all right,\" the shorter man said.\n \"Fathead's gonna be pleased.\"\n\n\n \"A very gratifying consignment,\" his companion said. \"However, we'd\n best hurry, Manny. How much time have we left on this charge?\"\n\n\n \"Plenty. Fifteen minutes anyway.\"\n\n\n The thin man opened a package, glanced at a painting.\n\n\n \"Ah, magnificent. Almost the equal of Picasso in his puce period.\"\n\n\n Manny shuffled through the other pictures in the stack.\n\n\n \"Like always,\" he grumbled. \"No nood dames. I like nood dames.\"\n\n\n \"Look at this, Manny! The textures alone—\"\n\n\n Manny looked. \"Yeah, nice use of values,\" he conceded. \"But I still\n prefer nood dames, Fiorello.\"\n\n\n \"And this!\" Fiorello lifted the next painting. \"Look at that gay play\n of rich browns!\"\n\n\n \"I seen richer browns on Thirty-third Street,\" Manny said. \"They was\n popular with the sparrows.\"\n\n\n \"Manny, sometimes I think your aspirations—\"\n\n\n \"Whatta ya talkin? I use a roll-on.\" Manny, turning to place a painting\n in the cage, stopped dead as he caught sight of Dan. The painting\n clattered to the floor. Dan stood, cleared his throat. \"Uh....\"\n\n\n \"Oh-oh,\" Manny said. \"A double-cross.\"\n\n\n \"I've—ah—been expecting you gentlemen,\" Dan said. \"I—\"\n\n\n \"I told you we couldn't trust no guy with nine fingers on each hand,\"\n Manny whispered hoarsely. He moved toward the cage. \"Let's blow,\n Fiorello.\"\n\n\n \"Wait a minute,\" Dan said. \"Before you do anything hasty—\"\n\n\n \"Don't start nothing, Buster,\" Manny said cautiously. \"We're plenty\n tough guys when aroused.\"\n\n\n \"I want to talk to you,\" Dan insisted. \"You see, these paintings—\"\n\n\n \"Paintings? Look, it was all a mistake. Like, we figured this was the\n gent's room—\"\n\n\n \"Never mind, Manny,\" Fiorello cut in. \"It appears there's been a leak.\"\n\n\n Dan shook his head. \"No leak. I simply deduced—\"\n\n\n \"Look, Fiorello,\" Manny said. \"You chin if you want to; I'm doing a\n fast fade.\"\n\n\n \"Don't act hastily, Manny. You know where you'll end.\"\n\n\n \"Wait a minute!\" Dan shouted. \"I'd like to make a deal with you\n fellows.\"\n\n\n \"Ah-hah!\" Kelly's voice blared from somewhere. \"I knew it! Slane, you\n crook!\"\nDan looked about wildly. The voice seemed to be issuing from a speaker.\n It appeared Kelly hedged his bets.\n\n\n \"Mr. Kelly, I can explain everything!\" Dan called. He turned back to\n Fiorello. \"Listen, I figured out—\"\n\n\n \"Pretty clever!\" Kelly's voice barked. \"Inside job. But it takes more\n than the likes of you to out-fox an old-timer like Eddie Kelly.\"\n\n\n \"Perhaps you were right, Manny,\" Fiorello said. \"Complications are\n arising. We'd best depart with all deliberate haste.\" He edged toward\n the cage.\n\n\n \"What about this ginzo?\" Manny jerked a thumb toward Dan. \"He's on to\n us.\"\n\n\n \"Can't be helped.\"\n\n\n \"Look—I want to go with you!\" Dan shouted.\n\n\n \"I'll bet you do!\" Kelly's voice roared. \"One more minute and I'll have\n the door open and collar the lot of you! Came up through a tunnel, did\n you?\"\n\n\n \"You can't go, my dear fellow,\" Fiorello said. \"Room for two, no more.\"\n\n\n Dan whirled to the cot, grabbed up the pistol Kelly had supplied. He\n aimed it at Manny. \"You stay here, Manny! I'm going with Fiorello in\n the time machine.\"\n\n\n \"Are you nuts?\" Manny demanded.\n\n\n \"I'm flattered, dear boy,\" Fiorello said, \"but—\"\n\n\n \"Let's get moving. Kelly will have that lock open in a minute.\"\n\n\n \"You can't leave me here!\" Manny spluttered, watching Dan crowd into\n the cage beside Fiorello.\n\n\n \"We'll send for you,\" Dan said. \"Let's go, Fiorello.\"\n\n\n The balding man snatched suddenly for the gun. Dan wrestled with him.\n The pistol fell, bounced on the floor of the cage, skidded into the\n far corner of the vault. Manny charged, reaching for Dan as he twisted\n aside; Fiorello's elbow caught him in the mouth. Manny staggered back\n into the arms of Kelly, bursting red-faced into the vault.\n\n\n \"Manny!\" Fiorello released his grip on Dan, lunged to aid his\n companion. Kelly passed Manny to one of three cops crowding in on his\n heels. Dan clung to the framework as Fiorello grappled with Kelly. A\n cop pushed past them, spotted Dan, moved in briskly for the pinch. Dan\n grabbed a lever at random and pulled.\n\n\n Sudden silence fell as the walls of the room glowed blue. A spectral\n Kelly capered before the cage, fluorescing in the blue-violet. Dan\n swallowed hard and nudged a second lever. The cage sank like an\n elevator into the floor, vivid blue washing up its sides.\n\n\n Hastily he reversed the control. Operating a time machine was tricky\n business. One little slip, and the Slane molecules would be squeezing\n in among brick and mortar particles....\n\n\n But this was no time to be cautious. Things hadn't turned out just the\n way he'd planned, but after all, this was what he'd wanted—in a way.\n The time machine was his to command. And if he gave up now and crawled\n back into the vault, Kelly would gather him in and pin every art theft\n of the past decade on him.\n\n\n It couldn't be\ntoo\nhard. He'd take it slowly, figure out the\n controls....\nDan took a deep breath and tried another lever. The cage rose gently,\n in eerie silence. It reached the ceiling and kept going. Dan gritted\n his teeth as an eight-inch band of luminescence passed down the cage.\n Then he was emerging into a spacious kitchen. A blue-haloed cook\n waddled to a luminous refrigerator, caught sight of Dan rising slowly\n from the floor, stumbled back, mouth open. The cage rose, penetrated a\n second ceiling. Dan looked around at a carpeted hall.\n\n\n Cautiously he neutralized the control lever. The cage came to rest an\n inch above the floor. As far as Dan could tell, he hadn't traveled so\n much as a minute into the past or future.\n\n\n He looked over the controls. There should be one labeled \"Forward\"\n and another labeled \"Back\", but all the levers were plain, unadorned\n black. They looked, Dan decided, like ordinary circuit-breaker type\n knife-switches. In fact, the whole apparatus had the appearance of\n something thrown together hastily from common materials. Still, it\n worked. So far he had only found the controls for maneuvering in the\n usual three dimensions, but the time switch was bound to be here\n somewhere....\n\n\n Dan looked up at a movement at the far end of the hall.\n\n\n A girl's head and shoulders appeared, coming up a spiral staircase. In\n another second she would see him, and give the alarm—and Dan needed\n a few moments of peace and quiet in which to figure out the controls.\n He moved a lever. The cage drifted smoothly sideways, sliced through\n the wall with a flurry of vivid blue light. Dan pushed the lever\n back. He was in a bedroom now, a wide chamber with flouncy curtains, a\n four-poster under a flowered canopy, a dressing table—\n\n\n The door opened and the girl stepped into the room. She was young. Not\n over eighteen, Dan thought—as nearly as he could tell with the blue\n light playing around her face. She had long hair tied with a ribbon,\n and long legs, neatly curved. She wore shorts and carried a tennis\n racquet in her left hand and an apple in her right. Her back to Dan and\n the cage, she tossed the racquet on a table, took a bite of the apple,\n and began briskly unbuttoning her shirt.\n\n\n Dan tried moving a lever. The cage edged toward the girl. Another;\n he rose gently. The girl tossed the shirt onto a chair and undid the\n zipper down the side of the shorts. Another lever; the cage shot toward\n the outer wall as the girl reached behind her back....\n\n\n Dan blinked at the flash of blue and looked down. He was hovering\n twenty feet above a clipped lawn.\n\n\n He looked at the levers. Wasn't it the first one in line that moved the\n cage ahead? He tried it, shot forward ten feet. Below, a man stepped\n out on the terrace, lit a cigarette, paused, started to turn his face\n up—\n\n\n Dan jabbed at a lever. The cage shot back through the wall. He was in a\n plain room with a depression in the floor, a wide window with a planter\n filled with glowing blue plants—\n\n\n The door opened. Even blue, the girl looked graceful as a deer as she\n took a last bite of the apple and stepped into the ten-foot-square\n sunken tub. Dan held his breath. The girl tossed the apple core aside,\n seemed to suddenly become aware of eyes on her, whirled—\n\n\n With a sudden lurch that threw Dan against the steel bars, the\n cage shot through the wall into the open air and hurtled off with\n an acceleration that kept him pinned, helpless. He groped for the\n controls, hauled at a lever. There was no change. The cage rushed\n on, rising higher. In the distance, Dan saw the skyline of a town,\n approaching with frightful speed. A tall office building reared up\n fifteen stories high. He was headed dead for it—\n\n\n He covered his ears, braced himself—\n\n\n With an abruptness that flung him against the opposite side of the\n cage, the machine braked, shot through the wall and slammed to a stop.\n Dan sank to the floor of the cage, breathing hard. There was a loud\nclick!\nand the glow faded.\n\n\n With a lunge, Dan scrambled out of the cage. He stood looking around at\n a simple brown-painted office, dimly lit by sunlight filtered through\n elaborate venetian blinds. There were posters on the wall, a potted\n plant by the door, a heap of framed paintings beside it, and at the far\n side of the room a desk. And behind the desk—Something.\nII\n\n\n Dan gaped at a head the size of a beachball, mounted on a torso like a\n hundred-gallon bag of water. Two large brown eyes blinked at him from\n points eight inches apart. Immense hands with too many fingers unfolded\n and reached to open a brown paper carton, dip in, then toss three\n peanuts, deliberately, one by one, into a gaping mouth that opened just\n above the brown eyes.\n\n\n \"Who're you?\" a bass voice demanded from somewhere near the floor.\n\n\n \"I'm ... I'm ... Dan Slane ... your honor.\"\n\n\n \"What happened to Manny and Fiorello?\"\n\n\n \"They—I—There was this cop. Kelly—\"\n\n\n \"Oh-oh.\" The brown eyes blinked deliberately. The many-fingered hands\n closed the peanut carton and tucked it into a drawer.\n\n\n \"Well, it was a sweet racket while it lasted,\" the basso voice said. \"A\n pity to terminate so happy an enterprise. Still....\" A noise like an\n amplified Bronx cheer issued from the wide mouth.\n\n\n \"How ... what...?\"\n\n\n \"The carrier returns here automatically when the charge drops below a\n critical value,\" the voice said. \"A necessary measure to discourage\n big ideas on the part of wisenheimers in my employ. May I ask how you\n happen to be aboard the carrier, by the way?\"\n\n\n \"I just wanted—I mean, after I figured out—that is, the police ... I\n went for help,\" Dan finished lamely.\n\n\n \"Help? Out of the picture, unfortunately. One must maintain one's\n anonymity, you'll appreciate. My operation here is under wraps at\n present. Ah, I don't suppose you brought any paintings?\"\n\n\n Dan shook his head. He was staring at the posters. His eyes,\n accustoming themselves to the gloom of the office, could now make out\n the vividly drawn outline of a creature resembling an alligator-headed\n giraffe rearing up above scarlet foliage. The next poster showed a face\n similar to the beachball behind the desk, with red circles painted\n around the eyes. The next was a view of a yellow volcano spouting fire\n into a black sky.\n\n\n \"Too bad.\" The words seemed to come from under the desk. Dan squinted,\n caught a glimpse of coiled purplish tentacles. He gulped and looked up\n to catch a brown eye upon him. Only one. The other seemed to be busily\n at work studying the ceiling.\n\n\n \"I hope,\" the voice said, \"that you ain't harboring no reactionary\n racial prejudices.\"\n\"Gosh, no,\" Dan reassured the eye. \"I'm crazy about—uh—\"\n\n\n \"Vorplischers,\" the voice said. \"From Vorplisch, or Vega, as you call\n it.\" The Bronx cheer sounded again. \"How I long to glimpse once more my\n native fens! Wherever one wanders, there's no pad like home.\"\n\n\n \"That reminds me,\" Dan said. \"I have to be running along now.\" He\n sidled toward the door.\n\n\n \"Stick around, Dan,\" the voice rumbled. \"How about a drink? I can\n offer you Chateau Neuf du Pape, '59, Romance Conte, '32, goat's milk,\n Pepsi—\"\n\n\n \"No, thanks.\"\n\n\n \"If you don't mind, I believe I'll have a Big Orange.\" The Vorplischer\n swiveled to a small refrigerator, removed an immense bottle fitted with\n a nipple and turned back to Dan. \"Now, I got a proposition which may be\n of some interest to you. The loss of Manny and Fiorello is a serious\n blow, but we may yet recoup the situation. You made the scene at a most\n opportune time. What I got in mind is, with those two clowns out of the\n picture, a vacancy exists on my staff, which you might well fill. How\n does that grab you?\"\n\n\n \"You mean you want me to take over operating the time machine?\"\n\n\n \"Time machine?\" The brown eyes blinked alternately. \"I fear some\n confusion exists. I don't quite dig the significance of the term.\"\n\n\n \"That thing,\" Dan jabbed a thumb toward the cage. \"The machine I came\n here in. You want me—\"\n\n\n \"Time machine,\" the voice repeated. \"Some sort of chronometer, perhaps?\"\n\n\n \"Huh?\"\n\n\n \"I pride myself on my command of the local idiom, yet I confess the\n implied concept snows me.\" The nine-fingered hands folded on the desk.\n The beachball head leaned forward interestedly. \"Clue me, Dan. What's a\n time machine?\"\n\n\n \"Well, it's what you use to travel through time.\"\n\n\n The brown eyes blinked in agitated alternation. \"Apparently I've loused\n up my investigation of the local cultural background. I had no idea\n you were capable of that sort of thing.\" The immense head leaned back,\n the wide mouth opening and closing rapidly. \"And to think I've been\n spinning my wheels collecting primitive 2-D art!\"\n\n\n \"But—don't you have a time machine? I mean, isn't that one?\"\n\n\n \"That? That's merely a carrier. Now tell me more about your time\n machines. A fascinating concept! My superiors will be delighted at\n this development—and astonished as well. They regard this planet as\n Endsville.\"\n\"Your superiors?\" Dan eyed the window; much too far to jump. Maybe he\n could reach the machine and try a getaway—\n\n\n \"I hope you're not thinking of leaving suddenly,\" the beachball said,\n following Dan's glance. One of the eighteen fingers touched a six-inch\n yellow cylinder lying on the desk. \"Until the carrier is fueled, I'm\n afraid it's quite useless. But, to put you in the picture, I'd best\n introduce myself and explain my mission here. I'm Blote, Trader Fourth\n Class, in the employ of the Vegan Confederation. My job is to develop\n new sources of novelty items for the impulse-emporiums of the entire\n Secondary Quadrant.\"\n\n\n \"But the way Manny and Fiorello came sailing in through the wall! That\nhas\nto be a time machine they were riding in. Nothing else could just\n materialize out of thin air like that.\"\n\n\n \"You seem to have a time-machine fixation, Dan,\" Blote said. \"You\n shouldn't assume, just because you people have developed time travel,\n that everyone has. Now—\" Blote's voice sank to a bass whisper—\"I'll\n make a deal with you, Dan. You'll secure a small time machine in good\n condition for me. And in return—\"\n\n\n \"\nI'm\nsupposed to supply\nyou\nwith a time machine?\"\n\n\n Blote waggled a stubby forefinger at Dan. \"I dislike pointing it out,\n Dan, but you are in a rather awkward position at the moment. Illegal\n entry, illegal possession of property, trespass—then doubtless some\n embarrassment exists back at the Snithian residence. I daresay Mr.\n Kelly would have a warm welcome for you. And, of course, I myself would\n deal rather harshly with any attempt on your part to take a powder.\"\n The Vegan flexed all eighteen fingers, drummed his tentacles under the\n desk, and rolled one eye, bugging the other at Dan.\n\n\n \"Whereas, on the other hand,\" Blote's bass voice went on, \"you and me\n got the basis of a sweet deal. You supply the machine, and I fix you up\n with an abundance of the local medium of exchange. Equitable enough, I\n should say. What about it, Dan?\"\n\n\n \"Ah, let me see,\" Dan temporized. \"Time machine. Time machine—\"\n\n\n \"Don't attempt to weasel on me, Dan,\" Blote rumbled ominously.\n\n\n \"I'd better look in the phone book,\" Dan suggested.\n\n\n Silently, Blote produced a dog-eared directory. Dan opened it.\n\n\n \"Time, time. Let's see....\" He brightened. \"Time, Incorporated; local\n branch office. Two twenty-one Maple Street.\"\n\n\n \"A sales center?\" Blote inquired. \"Or a manufacturing complex?\"\n\n\n \"Both,\" Dan said. \"I'll just nip over and—\"\n\n\n \"That won't be necessary, Dan,\" Blote said. \"I'll accompany you.\" He\n took the directory, studied it.\n\n\n \"Remarkable! A common commodity, openly on sale, and I failed to notice\n it. Still, a ripe nut can fall from a small tree as well as from a\n large.\" He went to his desk, rummaged, came up with a handful of fuel\n cells. \"Now, off to gather in the time machine.\" He took his place in\n the carrier, patted the seat beside him with a wide hand. \"Come, Dan.\n Get a wiggle on.\"\nHesitantly, Dan moved to the carrier. The bluff was all right up to a\n point—but the point had just about been reached. He took his seat.\n Blote moved a lever. The familiar blue glow sprang up. \"Kindly direct\n me, Dan,\" Blote demanded. \"Two twenty-one Maple Street, I believe you\n said.\"\n\n\n \"I don't know the town very well,\" Dan said, \"but Maple's over that\n way.\"\n\n\n Blote worked levers. The carrier shot out into a ghostly afternoon sky.\n Faint outlines of buildings, like faded negatives, spread below. Dan\n looked around, spotted lettering on a square five-story structure.\n\n\n \"Over there,\" he said. Blote directed the machine as it swooped\n smoothly toward the flat roof Dan indicated.\n\n\n \"Better let me take over now,\" Dan suggested. \"I want to be sure to\n get us to the right place.\"\n\n\n \"Very well, Dan.\"\n\n\n Dan dropped the carrier through the roof, passed down through a dimly\n seen office. Blote twiddled a small knob. The scene around the cage\n grew even fainter. \"Best we remain unnoticed,\" he explained.\n\n\n The cage descended steadily. Dan peered out, searching for identifying\n landmarks. He leveled off at the second floor, cruised along a barely\n visible corridor. Blote's eyes rolled, studying the small chambers\n along both sides of the passage at once.\n\n\n \"Ah, this must be the assembly area,\" he exclaimed. \"I see the machines\n employ a bar-type construction, not unlike our carriers.\"\n\n\n \"That's right,\" Dan said, staring through the haziness. \"This is where\n they do time....\" He tugged at a lever suddenly; the machine veered\n left, flickered through a barred door, came to a halt. Two nebulous\n figures loomed beside the cage. Dan cut the switch. If he'd guessed\n wrong—\n\n\n The scene fluoresced, sparks crackling, then popped into sharp focus.\n Blote scrambled out, brown eyes swivelling to take in the concrete\n walls, the barred door and—\n\n\n \"You!\" a hoarse voice bellowed.\n\n\n \"Grab him!\" someone yelled.\n\n\n Blote recoiled, threshing his ambulatory members in a fruitless attempt\n to regain the carrier as Manny and Fiorello closed in. Dan hauled at a\n lever. He caught a last glimpse of three struggling, blue-lit figures\n as the carrier shot away through the cell wall.\nIII\n\n\n Dan slumped back against the seat with a sigh. Now that he was in the\n clear, he would have to decide on his next move—fast. There was no\n telling what other resources Blote might have. He would have to hide\n the carrier, then—\n\n\n A low growling was coming from somewhere, rising in pitch and volume.\n Dan sat up, alarmed. This was no time for a malfunction.\n\n\n The sound rose higher, into a penetrating wail. There was no sign of\n mechanical trouble. The carrier glided on, swooping now over a nebulous\n landscape of trees and houses. Dan covered his ears against the\n deafening shriek, like all the police sirens in town blaring at once.\n If the carrier stopped it would be a long fall from here. Dan worked\n the controls, dropping toward the distant earth.\n\n\n The noise seemed to lessen, descending the scale. Dan slowed, brought\n the carrier in to the corner of a wide park. He dropped the last few\n inches and cut the switch.\n\n\n As the glow died, the siren faded into silence.\n\n\n Dan stepped from the carrier and looked around. Whatever the noise\n was, it hadn't attracted any attention from the scattered pedestrians\n in the park. Perhaps it was some sort of burglar alarm. But if so, why\n hadn't it gone into action earlier? Dan took a deep breath. Sound or no\n sound, he would have to get back into the carrier and transfer it to a\n secluded spot where he could study it at leisure. He stepped back in,\n reached for the controls—\n\n\n There was a sudden chill in the air. The bright surface of the dials\n before him frosted over. There was a loud\npop!\nlike a flashbulb\n exploding. Dan stared from the seat at an iridescent rectangle\n which hung suspended near the carrier. Its surface rippled, faded\n to blankness. In a swirl of frosty air, a tall figure dressed in a\n tight-fitting white uniform stepped through.\n\n\n Dan gaped at the small rounded head, the dark-skinned long-nosed face,\n the long, muscular arms, the hands, their backs tufted with curly\n red-brown hair, the strange long-heeled feet in soft boots. A neat\n pillbox cap with a short visor was strapped low over the deep-set\n yellowish eyes, which turned in his direction. The wide mouth opened in\n a smile which showed square yellowish teeth.\n\n\n \"\nAlors, monsieur\n,\" the new-comer said, bending his knees and back in\n a quick bow. \"\nVous ete une indigine, n'est ce pas?\n\"\n\n\n \"No compree,\" Dan choked out \"Uh ... juh no parlay Fransay....\"\n\n\n \"My error. This is the Anglic colonial sector, isn't it? Stupid of me.\n Permit me to introduce myself. I'm Dzhackoon, Field Agent of Class\n five, Inter-dimensional Monitor Service.\"\n\n\n \"That siren,\" Dan said. \"Was that you?\"\n\n\n Dzhackoon nodded. \"For a moment, it appeared you were disinclined to\n stop. I'm glad you decided to be reasonable.\"\n\n\n \"What outfit did you say you were with?\" Dan asked.\n\n\n \"The Inter-dimensional Monitor Service.\"\n\n\n \"Inter-what?\"\n\n\n \"Dimensional. The word is imprecise, of course, but it's the best our\n language coder can do, using the Anglic vocabulary.\"\n\n\n \"What do you want with me?\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Kelly hire Dan so quickly?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_1", "options": ["Because of his understanding of time machines.", "Mr. Snithian was desperate to protect his paintings.", "Dan had a great idea for protecting the vault.", "He was willing to work for very little pay."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was unique about Manny and Fiorello’s boss?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_2", "options": ["He was an octopus.", "He had the head of an alligator and the body of a giraffe.", "He was an art collector.", "He had eighteen fingers."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the blue spectral vehicle Dan acquired?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_3", "options": ["A time machine.", "A UFO.", "An inter-dimensional cage.", "A flying car."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Where did Dan bring Blote in the carrier?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_4", "options": ["A prison.", "The time machine sales office.", "Mr. Snithian's home.", "The time machine factory."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Dan meet with Mr. Snithian?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_5", "options": ["He wanted to meet and join time travelers.", "He wanted to purchase a time machine.", "He wanted to purchase some art.", "He wanted to catch the thieves."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Dzhackoon’s job is most similar to what human job?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_6", "options": ["A novelty trader.", "A time machine specialist.", "An art collector.", "A police officer."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "In exchange for a time machine, Blote offers Dan what?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_7", "options": ["His favorite tin used to store peanuts.", "Money.", "Original paintings.", "A poster of an alligator-headed giraffe."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Blote collect so much art?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_8", "options": ["The vaults where they are kept are the easiest to break into.", "His job is to source unique items from his sector of the universe.", "He is influenced by human artwork in his own paintings.", "He uses it to trade for rare items."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Dan believe Manny and Fiorello were time travelers?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_9", "options": ["He deduced it when Blote described their job functions.", "He suspected it based on the peculiarities of their crimes.", "Mr. Snithian warned him of the possibility.", "They spoke about time travel when he was eavesdropping in the vault."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who is Fathead?", "question_unique_id": "52855_3OS4Y95O_10", "options": ["Blote.", "Kelly.", "Mr. Snithian.", "One of Blote's superiors."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/2/8/5/52855//52855-h//52855-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62085", "set_unique_id": "62085_OTOKKIL9", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1012", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Pied Piper of Mars", "year": 1952, "author": "Kummer, Frederic Arnold", "topic": "Martians -- Fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Radio broadcasting -- Fiction; Detective and mystery stories; Short stories", "article": "Pied Piper of Mars\nBy FREDERIC ARNOLD KUMMER, Jr.\nElath Taen made mad music for the men of Mars.\n\n The red planet lived and would die to the\n\n soul-tearing tunes of his fiendish piping.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Spring 1942.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nIn all the solar system there is no city quite like Mercis, capital\n of Mars. Solis, on Venus, is perhaps more beautiful, some cities of\n Earth certainly have more drive and dynamitism, but there is a strange\n inscrutable air about Mercis which even terrestials of twenty years'\n residence cannot explain. Outwardly a tourists' mecca, with white\n plastoid buildings, rich gardens, and whispering canals, it has another\n and darker side, ever present, ever hidden. While earthmen work and\n plan, building, repairing, bringing their vast energy and progress\n to decadent Mars, the silent little reddies go their devious ways,\n following ancient laws which no amount of terrestial logic can shake.\n Time-bound ritual, mysterious passions and hates, torturous, devious\n logic ... all these, like dark winding underground streams run beneath\n the tall fair city that brings such thrilled superlatives to the lips\n of the terrestial tourists.\n\n\n Steve Ranson, mounting the steps of the old house facing the Han\n canal, was in no mood for the bizarre beauties of Martian scenery. For\n one thing, Mercis was an old story to him; his work with Terrestial\n Intelligence had brought him here often in the past, on other strange\n cases. And for another thing, his mission concerned more vital matters.\n Jared Haller, as head of the state-owned Martian Broadcasting System,\n was next in importance to the august Governor Winship himself. As\n far back as the Hitlerian wars on earth it had been known that he\n who controls propaganda, controls the nation ... or planet. Martian\n Broadcasting was an important factor in controlling the fierce warlike\n little reddies, keeping the terrestial-imposed peace on the red\n planet. And when Jared Haller sent to Earth for one of the Terrestial\n Intelligence, that silent efficient corps of trouble-shooters,\n something was definitely up.\n\n\n The house was provided with double doors as protection against the\n sudden fierce sandstorms which so often, in the month of Tol, sweep\n in from the plains of Psidis to engulf Mercis in a red choking haze.\n Ranson passed the conventional electric eye and a polite robot voice\n asked his name. He gave it, and the inner door opened.\n\n\n A smiling little Martian butler met him in the hall, showed him into\n Haller's study. The head of M.B.C. stood at one end of the big library,\n the walls of which were lined with vivavox rolls and old-fashioned\n books. As Ranson entered, he swung about, frowning, one hand dropping\n to a pocket that bulged unmistakably.\n\n\n \"Ranson, Terrestial Intelligence.\" The special agent offered his card.\n \"You sent to Earth a while ago for an operator?\"\n\n\n Jared Haller nodded. He was a big, rough-featured individual with gray\n leonine hair. A battering-ram of a man, one would think, who hammered\n his way through life by sheer force and drive. But as Ranson looked\n closer, he could see lines of worry, of fear, etched about the strong\n mouth, and a species of terror within the shaggy-browed eyes.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" said Jared Haller. \"I sent for an operator. You got here\n quickly, Mr. Ranson!\"\n\n\n \"Seven days out of earth on the express-liner\nArrow\n.\" Ranson wondered\n why Haller didn't come to the point. Even Terrestial Intelligence\n headquarters in New York hadn't known why a T.I. man was wanted on\n Mars ... but Haller was one of the few persons sufficiently important\n to have an operator sent without explanation as to why he was wanted.\n Ranson put it directly. \"Why did you require the help of T.I., Mr.\n Haller?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Because we're up against something a little too big for the Mercian\n police force to handle.\" Jared Haller's strong hands tapped nervously\n upon the desk. \"No one has greater respect for our local authorities\n than myself. Captain Maxwell is a personal friend of mine. But I\n understood that T.I. men had the benefit of certain amazing devices,\n remarkable inventions, which make it easy for them to track down\n criminals.\"\n\n\n Ranson nodded. That was true. T.I. didn't allow its secret devices\n to be used by any other agency, for fear they might become known to\n the criminals and outlaws of the solar system. But Haller still hadn't\n told what crime had taken place. This time Ranson applied the spur of\n silence. It worked.\n\n\n \"Mr. Ranson,\" Haller leaned forward, his face a gray grim mask,\n \"someone, something, is working to gain control of the Martian\n Broadcasting Company! And I don't have to tell you that whoever\n controls M.B.C. controls Mars! Here's the set-up! Our company, although\n state owned, is largely free from red-tape, so long as we stress the\n good work we terrestials are doing on Mars and keep any revolutionary\n propaganda off the air-waves. Except for myself, and half a dozen other\n earthmen in responsible positions, our staff is largely Martian.\n That's in line with our policy of teaching Mars our civilization until\n it's ready for autonomy. Which it isn't yet, by quite some. As you\n know.\"\n\n\n Ranson nodded, eyes intent as the pattern unfolded.\n\n\n \"All right.\" Haller snapped. \"You see the situation. Remove us ... the\n few terrestials at the top of M.B.C ... and Martian staff would carry\n on until new men came out from Earth to take our places. But suppose\n during that period with no check on their activities, they started\n to dish out nationalist propaganda? One hour's program, with the old\n Martian war-songs being played and some rabble-rouser yelling 'down\n with the terrestial oppressors' and there'd be a revolution. Millions\n of reddies against a few police, a couple of regiments of the Foreign\n Legion. It'd be a cinch.\"\n\n\n \"But,\" ... Ranson frowned ... \"this is only an interesting supposition.\n The reddies are civilized, peaceful.\"\n\n\n \"Outwardly,\" Haller snapped. \"But what do you or any other earthmen\n know about what goes on in their round red heads? And the proof that\n some revolt is planned lies in what's been happening the past few\n weeks! Look here!\" Haller bent forward, the lines about his mouth\n tighter than ever. \"Three weeks ago my technical advisor, Rawlins,\n committed suicide. Not a care in the world, but he killed himself. A\n week later Harris, head of the television department, went insane.\n Declared a feud with the whole planet, began shooting at everyone he\n saw. The police rayed him in the struggle. The following week Pegram,\n the musical director, died of a heart attack. Died with the most\n terrorized expression on his face I've ever seen. Fear, causing the\n heart attack, his doctor said. You begin to see the set-up? Three men,\n each a vital power in M.B.C. gone within three weeks! And who's next?\n Who?\" Jared Haller's eyes were bright with fear.\n\n\n \"Suicide, insanity, heart attack.\" Ranson shrugged. \"All perfectly\n normal. Coincidence that they should happen within three weeks. What\n makes you think there's been foul play?\"\n\n\n For a long brittle moment Jared Haller stared out at the graceful white\n city, wan in the light of the twin moons. When he turned to face\n Ranson again, his eyes were bleak as a lunar plain.\n\n\n \"One thing,\" he said slowly. \"The music.\"\n\n\n \"Music?\" Ranson echoed. \"Look here, Mr. Haller, you....\"\n\n\n \"It's all right.\" Jared Haller grinned crookedly. \"I'm not insane. Yet.\n Look, Mr. Ranson! There's just one clue to these mysterious deaths!\n And that's the music! In each instance the servants told of hearing,\n very faintly, a strange melody. Music that did queer things to them,\n even though they could hear it only vaguely. Music like none they'd\n ever heard. Like the devil's pipes, playing on their souls, while....\n Almighty God!\"\n\n\n Jared Haller froze, his face gray as lead, his eyes blue horror. Ranson\n was like a man in a trance, bent forward, lips pressed tight until they\n resembled a livid scar. The room was silent as a tomb; outside, they\n could hear the vague rumbling of the city, with the distant swish of\n canal boats, the staccato roar of rockets as some earth-bound freighter\n leaped from the spaceport. Familiar, homey sounds, these, but beneath\n them, like an undercurrent of madness, ran the macabre melody.\nThere was, there had never been, Ranson knew, any music like this.\n It was the pipes of Pan, the chant of robots, the crying of souls in\n torment. It was a cloudy purple haze that engulfed the mind, it was a\n silver knife plucking a cruel obligato on taut nerves, it was a thin\n dark snake writhing its endless coils into the room.\n\n\n Neither man moved. Ranson knew all the tricks of visual hypnotism, the\n whirling mirror, the waving hands, the pool of ink ... but this was\n the hypnotism of sound. Louder and clearer the music sounded, in eerie\n overtones, quavering sobbing minors, fierce reverberating bass. Sharp\n shards of sound pierced their ears, deep throbbing underrhythm shook\n them as a cat shakes a mouse.\n\n\n \"God!\" Haller snarled. \"What ... what is it?\"\n\n\n \"Don't know.\" Ranson felt a queer irritation growing within him. He\n strode stiffly to the window, peered out. In the darkness, the broad\n Han canal lay placid; the stars caught in its jet meshes gently\n drifted toward the bank, shattered on the white marble. Along the\n embankment were great fragrant clumps of\nfayeh\nbushes. It was among\n these, he decided, that their unknown serenader lay concealed.\n\n\n Suddenly the elfin melody changed. Fierce, harsh, it rose, until Ranson\n felt as though a file were rasping his nerves. He knew that he should\n dash down, seize the invisible musician below ... but logic, facts and\n duty, all were fading from his mind. The music was a spur, goading him\n to wild unreasoning anger. The red mists of hate swirled through his\n brain, a strange unreasoning bloodlust grew with the savage beat of the\n wild music. Berserk rage sounded in each shivering note and Ranson felt\n an insane desire to run amok. To inflict pain, to see red blood flow,\n to kill ... kill! Blindly he whirled, groping for his gun, as the music\n rose in a frenzied death-wail.\n\n\n Turning, Ranson found himself face to face with Jared Haller. But the\n tall flinty magnate was now another person. Primitive, atavistic rage\n distorted his features, insane murder lurked in his eyes. The music was\n his master, and it was driving him to frenzy. \"Kill!\" the weird rhythm\n screamed, \"Kill!\" And Jared Haller obeyed. He snatched the flame-gun\n from his pocket, levelled it at Ranson.\n\n\n Whether it was the deadly melody outside, or the instinct of\n self-preservation, Ranson never knew, but he drove at Haller with grim\n fury. The flame-gun hissed, filling the room with a greenish glare, its\n beam passing so close to Ranson's hair as to singe it. Ranson came up,\n grinning furiously, and in a moment both men were struggling, teeth\n bared in animalistic grins, breath coming in choked gasps, whirling\n in a mad dance of death as the macabre music distilled deadly poison\n within their brains.\n\n\n The end came with startling suddenness. Ranson, twisting his opponent's\n arm back, felt the searing blast of the flame-gun past his hand. Jared\n Haller, a ghastly blackened corpse, toppled to the floor.\n\n\n At that moment the lethal rhythm outside changed abruptly. From the\n fierce maddening beat of a few minutes before, the chords took on a\n yearning seductive tone. A call, it seemed, irresistible, soft, with\n a thousand promises. This was the song the sirens sang to Ulysses,\n the call of the Pied Piper, the chant of the houris in paradise. It\n conjured up pictures in Ranson's mind ... pictures of fairyland, of\n exquisitely beautiful scenes, of women lovely beyond imagination. All\n of man's hopes, man's dreams, were in that music, and it drew Ranson as\n a moth is drawn to a flame. The piping of Pan, the fragile fantasies of\n childhood, the voices of those beyond life.... Ranson walked stiffly\n toward the source of the music, like a man drugged.\n\n\n As he approached the window the melody grew louder. The hypnotism of\n sound, he knew, but he didn't care. It was enthralling, irresistible.\n Like a sleepwalker he climbed to the sill, stood outlined in the tall\n window. Twenty feet to the ground, almost certain death ... but Ranson\n was lost in the golden world that the elfin melody conjured up. He\n straightened his shoulders, was about to step out.\n\n\n Then suddenly there was a roar of atomic motors, a flashing of lights.\n A police boat, flinging up clouds of spray, swept up the canal,\n stopped. Ranson shook himself, like a man awakening from a nightmare,\n saw uniformed figures leaping to the bank. From the shadow of the\nfayeh\nbushes a slight form sprang, dodged along the embankment.\n Flame-guns cut the gloom but the slight figure swung to the left,\n disappeared among the twisting narrow streets. Bathed in cold sweat,\n Ranson stepped back into the room, where the still, terrible form of\n Jared Haller lay. Ranson stared at it, as though seeing it for the\n first time. Outside, there were pounding feet; the canal-patrolmen\n raced through the house, toward the study. And then, his brain weary as\n if it had been cudgelled, Ranson slid limply to the floor.\nHeadquarters of the Martian Canal-Patrol was brilliantly lighted by a\n dozen big\nastralux\narcs. Captain Maxwell chewed at his gray mustache,\n staring curiously at Ranson.\n\n\n \"Then you admit killing Haller?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"Yes.\" Ranson nodded sombrely. \"In the struggle. Self-defense. But even\n if it hadn't been self-defense, I probably would have fought with him.\n That music was madness, I tell you! Madness! Nobody's responsible when\n under its influence! I....\"\n\n\n \"You killed Haller,\" Captain Maxwell said. \"And you blame it on this\n alleged music. I might believe you, Ranson, but how many other people\n would? Even members of Terrestial Intelligence aren't sacro sanct. I'll\n have to hold you for trial.\"\n\n\n \"Hold me for trial?\" Ranson leaned forward, his gaunt face intent.\n \"While the real killer, the person playing that music, gets away? Look!\n Let me out of here for twelve hours! That's all I ask! And if I don't\n track down whoever was outside Haller's house, you can....\"\n\n\n \"Sorry.\" Captain Maxwell shook his head. \"You know I'd like to, Ranson.\n But this is murder. To let a confessed murderer, even though he is a\n T.I. man, go free, is impossible.\" The captain drew a deep breath,\n motioned to the two gray-uniformed patrolmen. \"Take Mr. Ranson.\"\n\n\n And then Steve Ranson went into action. In one blinding burst of\n speed, he lunged across the desk, tore Captain Maxwell's pistol from\n its holster. Before the captain and the two patrolmen knew what had\n happened, they were staring into the ugly muzzle of the flame-gun.\n\n\n \"Sorry.\" Ranson said tightly. \"But it had to be done. There's hell\n loose on Mars, the devil's melody! And it's got to be stopped before it\n turns this planet upside down!\"\n\n\n \"You can't get away with this, Ranson!\" Captain Maxwell shook his head.\n \"It'll only make it tougher for you when we nab you again! Be sensible!\n Put down that gun.\"\n\n\n \"No good. Got to work fast.\" Ranson backed toward the door, gun\n in hand. \"Let this mad music go unchecked and it's death to all\n terrestials on Mars! And I'm going to stop it! So long, captain! You\n can try me for murder if you want, after I've done my job here!\"\n\n\n Ranson took the key from the massive plastic door as he backed\n through the entrance. Once in the hall, he slammed the door shut,\n locked Maxwell and his men in the room. Then, dropping the gun into\n his pocket, he ran swiftly down the corridor to the main entrance of\n headquarters. In the hall a patrolman glanced at him suspiciously,\n halted him, but a wave of Ranson's T.I. card put the man aside.\n\n\n Free of headquarters, Ranson began to run. Only a few moments, he\n knew, before Maxwell and his men blasted a way to freedom, set out in\n pursuit. Like a lean gray shadow Ranson ran, twisting, dodging, among\n the narrow streets, heading toward Haller's house. Mercis was a dream\n city in the wan light of the moons. One in either side of the heavens,\n they threw weird double shadows across the rippling canals, the aimless\n streets. Sleek canal-cabs roared along the dark waterways, throwing\n up clouds of spray, and on the embankments, green-eyed, bulge-headed\n little reddies padded, silent, inscrutable, themselves a part of the\n eternal mystery of Mars.\n\n\n Haller's house stood dark and brooding beside the canal. Captain\n Maxwell's men had completed their examination and the place was\n deserted. Ranson stepped into the shadow of the clump of fragrant\nfayeh\nbushes, where the unknown musician had stood; there was little\n danger, he felt, of patrolmen hunting for him at Haller's house.\n The captain had little faith in copybook maxims about the murderer\n returning to the scene of the crime.\n\n\n Ranson stood motionless for a moment as a canal boat swept by, then\n drew from his pocket a heavy black tube. He tugged, and it extended\n telescopically to a cane some four feet long. The cane was hollow, a\n tube, and the head of it was large as a man's two fists and covered\n with small dials, gauges. This was the T.I.'s most cherished secret,\n the famous \"electric bloodhound,\" by which criminals could be tracked.\n\n\n Ranson touched a lever and a tiny electric motor in the head of the\n cane hummed, drawing air up along the tube. He tapped the bank where\n the unknown musician had stood, eyes on the gauges. Molecules of\n matter, left by the mysterious serenader, were sucked up the tube,\n registered on a sensitive plate, just as delicate color shades register\n on the plate of a color camera.\n\n\n Ranson tapped the cane carefully upon the ground, avoiding those places\n where he had stood. Few people crossed this overgrown embankment, and\n it was a safe bet that no one other than the strange musician had\n been there recently. The scent was a clear one, and the dials on the\n head of the cane read R-2340-B, the numerical classification of the\n tiny bits of matter left behind by the unknown. The theory behind it\n was quite simple. The T.I. scientists had reasoned that the sense of\n smell is merely the effect of suspended molecules in the air acting\n upon sensitive nerve filaments, and they knew that any normal human\n can follow a trail of some strong odor such as perfumes, or gasoline,\n while animals, possessing more sensitive perceptions, can follow\n less distinct trails. To duplicate this mechanically had proven more\n difficult than an electric eye or artificial hearing device, but in\n the end they had triumphed. Their efforts had resulted in the machine\n Ranson now carried.\n\n\n The trial was, at the start, clear. Ranson tapped the long tube on the\n ground like a blind man, eyes on the dial. Along the embankment, into a\n side street, he made his way. There were few abroad in this old quarter\n of the city; from the spaceport came the roar of freighters, the rumble\n of machinery, but here in the narrow winding streets there was only the\n faint murmur of voices behind latticed windows, the rustle of the wind,\n the rattle of sand from the red desert beyond the city.\nAs Ranson plunged further into the old Martian quarter, the trail grew\n more and more confused, crossed by scores of other trails left by\n passersby. He was forced to stop, cast about like a bloodhound, tapping\n every square foot of the street before the R-2340-B on the dial showed\n that he had once more picked up the faint elusive scent.\n\n\n Deeper and deeper Ranson plunged into the dark slums of Mercis. Smoky\n gambling dens, dives full of drunken spacehands and slim red-skinned\n girls, maudlin singing ... even the yellow glare of the forbidden\n san-rays, as they filtered through drawn windows. Unsteady figures made\n their way along the streets. Mighty-thewed Jovian blasters, languid\n Venusians, boisterous earthmen ... and the little Martians padding\n softly along, wrapped in their loose dust-robes.\n\n\n At the end of an alley where the purple shadows lay like stagnant\n pools, Ranson paused. The alley was a cul-de-sac, which meant that\n the person he was trailing must have entered one of the houses. Very\n softly he tapped the long tube on the ground. Again with a hesitant\n swinging of dials, R-2340-B showed up, on the low step in front of one\n of the dilapidated, dome-shaped houses. Ranson's eyes narrowed. So the\n person who had played the mad murder melody had entered that house!\n Might still be there! Quickly he telescoped the \"electric bloodhound,\"\n dropped it into his pocket, and drew his flame-gun.\n\n\n The old house was dark, with an air of morbid deadly calm about\n it. Ranson tried the door, found it locked. A quick spurt from his\n flame-gun melted the lock; he glanced about to make sure no one had\n observed the greenish glare, then stepped inside.\n\n\n The hallway was shadowy, its walls hung with ancient Martian tapestries\n which, from their stilted symbolic ideographs must have dated back to\n the days of the Canal-Builders. At the end of the hallway, however,\n light jetted through a half-open door. Ranson moved toward it, silent\n as a phantom, muscles tense. Gripping his flame-gun, he pushed the door\n wide ... and a sudden exclamation broke from his lips.\n\n\n Before him lay a gleaming laboratory, lined with vials of strange\n liquids, shining test-tubes, and queer apparatus. Beside a table,\n pouring a black fluid from a beaker into a test-tube, stood a man.\n Half-terrestial, half-Martian, he seemed, with the large hairless head\n of the red planet, and the clean features of an earthman. His eyes,\n behind their glasses, were like green ice, and the hand pouring the\n black fluid did not so much as waver at Ranson's entrance.\n\n\n Ranson gasped. The bizarre figure was that of Dr. Elath Taen,\n master-scientist, sought by the T.I. for years, in vain! Elath Taen,\n outlaw and renegade, whose sole desire was the extermination of all\n terrestials on Mars, a revival of the ancient glories of the red\n planet. The tales told about him were fabulous; and this was the man\n behind the unholy music!\n\n\n \"Good evening, Mr. Ranson,\" Elath Taen smiled. \"Had I known T.I.\n men were on Mars I should have taken infinitely more precautions.\n However....\"\n\n\n As he spoke, his hand moved suddenly, as though to hurl the test tube\n at Ranson. Quick as he was, the T.I. man was quicker. A spurt of\n flame leapt from his gun, shattering the tube. The dark liquid hissed,\n smoking, on to the floor.\n\n\n \"Well done, Mr. Ranson.\" Elath Taen nodded calmly. \"Had the acid struck\n you, it would have rendered you blind.\"\n\n\n \"That's about enough of your tricks!\" Ranson grated. \"Come along, Dr.\n Taen! We're going to headquarters!\"\n\n\n \"Since you insist.\" Elath Taen removed his chemist's smock, began, very\n deliberately, to strip off his rubber gloves.\n\n\n \"Quit stalling!\" Ranson snapped. \"Get going! I....\" The words faded on\n the T.I. man's lips. Faintly, in the distance, came the strains of\n soft eerie music!\n\n\n \"Good God!\" Ranson's eyes darted about the laboratory. \"That ... that's\n the same as Haller and I....\"\n\n\n \"Exactly, Mr. Ranson.\" Elath Taen smiled thinly. \"Listen!\"\n\n\n The music was a caress, soft as a woman's skin. Slow, drowsy, like\n the hum of bees on a hot summer's afternoon. Soothing, soporific, in\n dreamy, crooning chords. A lullaby, that seemed to hang lead weights\n upon the eyelids. Audible hypnotism, as potent as some drug. Clearer\n with each second, the melody grew, coming nearer and nearer the\n laboratory.\n\n\n \"Come ... come on,\" Ranson said thickly. \"Got to get out of here.\"\n\n\n But his words held no force, and Elath Taen was nodding sleepily under\n the influence of the weird dream-music. Ranson knew he should act,\n swiftly, while he could; but the movement of a single muscle seemed\n an intolerable effort. His skin felt as though it were being rubbed\n with velvet, a strange purring sensation filled his brain. He tried to\n think, to move, but his will seemed in a padded vise. The music was\n dragging him down, down, into the gray mists of oblivion.\n\n\n Across the laboratory Elath Taen had slumped to the floor, a vague\n smile of triumph on his face. Ranson turned to the direction of\n the music, tried to raise his gun, but the weapon slipped from his\n fingers, he fell to his knees. Sleep ... that was all that mattered ...\n sleep. The music was like chloroform, its notes stroked his brain.\n Through half-shut eyes he saw a door at the rear of the laboratory\n open, saw a slim, dark, exotic girl step through into the room. Slung\n about her neck in the manner of an accordian, was a square box, with\n keys studding its top. For a long moment Ranson stared at the dark,\n enigmatic girl, watched her hands dance over the keys to produce the\n soft lulling music. About her head, he noticed, was a queer copper\n helmet, of a type he had never before seen. And then the girl, Elath\n Taen, the laboratory, all faded into a kaleidoscopic whirl. Ranson felt\n himself falling down into the gray mists, and consciousness disappeared.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Who are \"reddies\"?", "question_unique_id": "62085_OTOKKIL9_1", "options": ["Martians", "Tourists", "Venusians", "Earthmen"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Ranson feel safe returning to Haller's home?", "question_unique_id": "62085_OTOKKIL9_2", "options": ["He had already killed Haller.", "The house was deserted.", "The music drew him there.", "He knew Maxwell's patrol wouldn't search for him there."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Ranson find Elath Taen?", "question_unique_id": "62085_OTOKKIL9_3", "options": ["He analyzed his DNA.", "He found footprints.", "He followed his scent.", "He tracked the stolen \"electric bloodhound.\""], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Elath Taen mostly likely smiling as he drifted to sleep?", "question_unique_id": "62085_OTOKKIL9_4", "options": ["He had killed Ranson.", "His plan, involving the girl with the box, had succeeded.", "The dark liquid was not really acid after all.", "He would become the leader of Mercis."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Ranson take Captain Maxwell's weapon?", "question_unique_id": "62085_OTOKKIL9_5", "options": ["He wanted to shoot Captain Maxwell.", "The patrolmen had taken his weapon.", "He was trying to escape accountability for murder.", "He wanted to find the source of the music."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who was the \"exotic girl\" most likely?", "question_unique_id": "62085_OTOKKIL9_6", "options": ["Elath Taen's co-conspirator.", "A contractor for T.I.", "An advocate for Martian rights.", "An independent vigilante."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Ranson kill Haller?", "question_unique_id": "62085_OTOKKIL9_7", "options": ["He shot him with Haller's own gun.", "He choked him to death.", "He used his agency-assigned flame-gun to kill Haller.", "He broke Haller's arm, and Haller hit his head while falling."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the root of Haller's fear of the music?", "question_unique_id": "62085_OTOKKIL9_8", "options": ["He is afraid he will be killed.", "He is frightened of Elath Taen.", "He is scared of Martian independence.", "He fears the loss of bodily control."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/0/8/62085//62085-h//62085-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62498", "set_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1012", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Castaways of Eros", "year": 1957, "author": "Bond, Nelson S.", "topic": "Eros (Asteroid) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Space colonies -- Fiction; PS; Interpersonal conflict -- Fiction", "article": "Castaways of Eros\nBy NELSON S. BOND\nTwo families fought for the title to Eros,\n\n and only one could win. One had to outsmart\n\n the other—and both had to win over the\n\n unscrupulous United Ores Corporation. It\n\n was a problem worthy of a Solomon—and it\n\n had an ending even those embittered\n rivals could not foresee.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1943.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nBobby couldn't help wishing Pop would stand up just a little bit\n straighter. Not that he was ashamed of Pop; it wasn't that at all. It\n was just that the Patrolman stood\nso\nstraight, his shoulders broad\n and firm. Standing beside him made Pop look sort of thin and puny; his\n chest caved in like he was carrying a heavy weight on his shoulders.\n\n\n That was from studying things through a microscope. Anyhow, decided\n Bobby with a fierce loyalty, that S.S.P. man probably wouldn't even\n know what to look for if somebody put a microscope in front of him.\n Even if he was big and sturdy and broad-shouldered in his space blues.\n\n\n Mom said, \"Bobby, what\nare\nyou muttering about? Do stop fidgeting!\"\n Bobby said, \"Yessum,\" and glared at Moira, as if she, in some\n obscure way, were to blame for his having been reprimanded right out\n here in the middle of Long Island Spaceport, where everybody could\n hear and laugh at him. But Moira, studying the handsome S.S.P. man\n surreptitiously, did not notice. Dick was fixing something in the ship.\n Eleanor stood quietly beside Mom, crooning softly to The Pooch so it\n wouldn't be scared by the thunderous blast of rocket motors. Grampaw\n Moseley had buttonholed an embarrassed young ensign, was complaining\n to him in loud and certain terms that modern astronavigation practices\n were, \"Rank bellywash, Mister, and a dad-ratted disgrace!\"\n\n\n The Patrolman said, \"Your name, please, Sir?\"\n\n\n \"Robert Emmet O'Brien Moseley,\" said Pop.\n\n\n \"Occupation?\"\n\n\n \"Research physicist, formerly. Now about to become a land-grant\n settler.\"\n\n\n \"Age of self and party ... former residence....\"\n\n\n Overhead, the sky was blue and thin—clear as a bowl of skimmed milk;\n its vastness limned in sharp relief, to the west and north, the mighty\n spans and arches, the faery domes and flying buttresses of Great New\n York. The spacedrome fed a hundred ducts of flight; from one field\n lifted air locals, giddy, colored motes with gyroscopes aspin. From\n another, a West Coast stratoliner surged upward to lose itself in thin,\n dim heights.\n\n\n Vast cradles by the Sound were the nests to which a flock of\n interplanetary craft made homeward flight. Luggers and barges and\n cruisers. Bobby saw, with sudden excitement, the sharp, starred prow of\n the Solar Space Patrol man-o'-war.\n\n\n Here, in this field, the GSC's—the General Spacecraft Cradles. From\n one of which, as soon as Pop got clearance, their ship would take off.\n Their ship! Bobby felt an eager quickening of his pulse; his stomach\n was aswarm with a host of butterflies.\nTheir ship!\nThe space officer said, \"I think that takes care of everything, Dr.\n Moseley. I presume you understand the land-grant laws and obligations?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Lieutenant.\"\n\n\n \"Very well, then—\" Space-red hands made official motions with a\n hand-stamp and pen. \"Your clearance. And my very best wishes, Sir.\"\n\n\n \"Thank you,\" said Pop quietly. He turned. \"That's all. Ready, Mother?\n Eleanor? Moira?\"\n\n\n Bobby bounded forward. \"Can I push the button, can I, Pop? When we\n start, can I?\"\nDick was waiting before the open lock of the\nCuchulainn\n. Dick could\n do anything, everything at once. He took The Pooch into the circle of\n his left arm, helped his mother aboard, said, \"Shut up, kid, you're\n enough to wake the dead. Watch that guard-panel, Elly. Papers all set,\n Pop?\" And he tickled The Pooch's dimpled cheek with an oily finger.\n \"You act just like your mama,\" he said irrelevantly, and the baby\n gurgled. Eleanor cried, \"Dick—those dirty hands!\"\n\n\n \"Everything is in order, Richard,\" said Pop.\n\n\n \"Good. You folks go in and strap down. I'll seal. Here comes the\n cradle-monkey now.\"\n\n\n Pop said, \"Come along, Robert,\" and the others went inside. Bobby\n waited, though, to see the cradle-monkey, the man under whose orders\n spacecraft lifted gravs. The cradle-monkey was a dour man with gnarled\n legs and arms and temper. He looked at the\nCuchulainn\nand sniffed;\n then at Dick.\n\n\n \"Family crate, huh?\"\n\n\n \"That's right.\"\n\n\n \"Well, f'r goddlemighty' sakes, don't try to blast off with y'r side\n jets burnin'. Take a seven-point-nineteen readin' on y'r Akka gauge,\n stern rockets only—\"\n\n\n \"Comets to you, butt-hoister!\" grinned Dick. \"I've had eight years on\n the spider run. I can lift this can.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, a rocketeer?\" There was new, grudging respect in the groundman's\n tone. \"Well, how was I t' know? Y'ought t' see what some o' them\n jaloupi-jockeys do to my cradles—burn 'em black! Oh, well—\" He backed\n away from the ship.\n\n\n \"Clean ether!\" said Dick. He closed the lock. Its seal-brace slid into\n place, wheezing asthmatically. Bobby's ears rang suddenly with the mild\n compression of air; when he swallowed, they were all right again. Dick\n saw him. \"What are you doing here, kid? Didn't I hear Pop tell you to\n come below?\"\n\n\n Bobby said, \"I'm not a kid. I'm almost sixteen.\"\n\n\n \"Just old enough,\" promised Dick, \"to get your seat warmed if you don't\n do what you're told. Remember, you're a sailor on a spaceship now.\n Pop's the Skipper, and I'm First Mate. If you don't obey orders, it's\n mutiny, and—\"\n\n\n \"I'm obeying,\" said Bobby hastily. He followed his brother down the\n corridor, up the ramp, to the bridge. \"Can I push the button when we\n take off, huh, Dick?\"\n\n\n After his high expectations, it wasn't such a great thrill. Dick set\n the stops and dials, told him which button to press. \"When I give the\n word, kid.\" Of course, he got to sit in the pilot's bucket-chair, which\n was something. Moira and Eleanor and Mom to lie down in acceleration\n hammocks while Pop and Dick sat in observation seats. He waited, all\n ears and nerves, as the slow seconds sloughed away. Pop set the hypos\n running; their faint, dull throb was a magic sound in the silence.\n\n\n Then there came a signal from outside. Dick's hand rose in\n understanding response; fell again. \"Now!\"\nBobby jabbed the button in frantic haste. Suddenly the silence was\n shattered by a thunderous detonation. There was a massive hand pressing\n him back into the soft, yielding leather of his chair; the chair\n retreated on oiled channels, pneumatic compensators hissing faintly,\n absorbing the shock. Across the room a faulty hammock-hinge squeaked\n rustily.\n\n\n Then it was over as quickly as it had begun, and he could breathe\n again, and Dick was lurching across the turret on feet that wobbled\n queerly because up was down and top was bottom and everything was funny\n and mixed up.\n\n\n Dick cut in the artificial gravs, checked the meter dials with a\n hurried glance, smiled.\n\n\n \"Dead on it! Want to check, Skipper?\"\n\n\n But Pop was standing by the observation pane, eyeing an Earth already\n ball-like in the vastness of space. Earth, dwindling with each passing\n moment. Bobby moved to his side and watched; Moira, too, and Eleanor\n and Mom, and even Dick.\n\n\n Pop touched Mom's hand. He said, \"Martha—I'm not sure this is fair to\n you and the children. Perhaps it isn't right that I should force my\n dream on all of you. The world we have known and loved lies behind us.\n Before us lies only uncertainty....\"\n\n\n Mom sort of sniffed and reached for a handkerchief. She turned her back\n to Pop for a minute, and when she turned around again her eyes were red\n and angry-looking. She said, \"\nYou\nwant to go on, don't you, Rob?\"\n\n\n Pop nodded. \"But I'm thinking of you, Martha.\"\n\n\n \"Of me!\" Mom snorted indignantly. \"Hear him talk! I never heard such\n nonsense in my life. Of\ncourse\nI want to go on. No, never mind that!\n Richard, isn't there a kitchen on this boat?\"\n\n\n \"A galley, Mom. Below.\"\n\n\n \"Galley ... kitchen ... what's the difference? You two girls come with\n me. I'll warrant these men are starving.\nI\nam!\"\nAfter that, things became so normal as to be almost disappointing. From\n his eager reading of such magazines as\nMartian Tales\nand\nCosmic\n Fiction Weekly\n, Bobby had conceived void-travel to be one long,\n momentous chain of adventure. A super-thrilling serial, punctuated by\n interludes with space-pirates, narrow brushes with meteors, sabotage,\n treachery—hair-raising, heroic and horrifying.\n\n\n There was nothing like that to disturb the calm and peaceful journey of\n the\nCuchulainn\n. Oh, it was enjoyable to stare through the observation\n panes at the flame-dotted pall of space—until Pop tried to turn his\n curious interest into educational channels; it was exciting, too, to\n probe through the corridored recesses of their floating home—except\n that Dick issued strict orders that nothing must be touched, that he\n must not enter certain chambers, that he mustn't push his nose into\n things that didn't concern kids—\n\n\n Which offended Bobby, who was sixteen, or, anyway, fifteen and\n three-quarters.\n\n\n So they ate and they slept and they ate again. And Pop and Dick spelled\n each other at the control banks. Moira spent endless hours with comb\n and mirror, devising elaborate hair-dos which—Bobby reminded her\n with impudent shrewdness—were so much wasted energy, since they were\n settling in a place where nobody could see them. And Mom bustled about\n in the galley, performing miracles with flour and stuff, and in the\n recreation room, Eleanor minded The Pooch, and lost innumerable games\n of cribbage to Grampaw Moseley who cheated outrageously and groused,\n between hands, about the dad-blame nonsensical way Dick was handling\n the ship.\n\n\n And somehow three Earth days sped by, and they were nearing their\n destination. The tiny planetoid, Eros.\n\n\n Pop said, \"You deserve a great deal of credit, son, for your fine work\n in rehabilitating the\nCuchulainn\n. It has performed beautifully. You\n are a good spaceman.\"\n\n\n Dick flushed. \"She's a good ship, Pop, even if she is thirty years old.\n Some of these old, hand-fashioned jobs are better than the flash junk\n they're turning off the belts nowadays. You've checked the declension\n and trajectory?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. We should come within landing radius in just a few hours. Cut\n drives at 19.04.22 precisely and make such minor course alterations as\n are necessary, set brakes.\" Pop smiled happily. \"We're very fortunate,\n son. A mere fifteen million miles. It's not often Eros is so near\n Earth.\"\n\n\n \"Don't I know it? It's almost a hundred million at perihelion. But\n that's not the lucky part. You sure had to pull strings to get the\n government land grant to Eros. What a plum! Atmosphere ... water ...\n vegetable life ... all on a hunk of dirt fifty-seven miles in diameter.\n Frankly, I don't get it! Eros must have terrific mass to have the\n attributes of a full-sized planet.\"\n\n\n \"It does, Richard. A neutronium core.\"\n\n\n \"Neutronium!\" Dick gasped. \"Why don't people tell me these things?\n Roaring craters, Pop, we're rich! Bloated plutocrats!\"\n\n\n \"Not so fast, son. Eventually, perhaps; not today. First we must\n establish our claims, justify our right to own Eros. That means work,\n plenty of hard work. After that, we might be able to consider a mining\n operation. What's that?\"\n\n\n Bobby jumped. It was Mom's voice. But her cry was not one of fear, it\n was one of excitement.\n\n\n \"Rob, look! Off to the—the left, or the port, or whatever you call it!\n Is that our new home?\"\n\n\n Bobby did not need to hear Pop's reply to know that it was. His swift\n intake of breath was enough, the shine in his eyes as he peered out the\n observation port.\n\n\n \"Eros!\" he said.\n\n\n It looked all right to Bobby. A nice, clean little sphere, spinning\n lazily before their eyes like a top someone had set in motion, then\n gone away and forgotten. Silver and green and rusty brown, all still\n faintly blued by distance. The warm rays of old Sol reflected gaily,\n giddily, from seas that covered half the planetoid's surface, and\n mountains cut long, jagged shadows into sheltered plains beneath them.\n It was, thought Bobby, not a bad looking little place. But not anything\n to get all dewy-eyed about, like Pop was.\n\n\n Dick said softly, \"All right, Pop. Let's check and get ready to set 'er\n down....\"\nII\n\n\n It was not Dick's fault. It was just a tough break that no one had\n expected, planned for, guarded against. The planetoid was there beneath\n them; they would land on it. It was as simple at that.\n\n\n Only it wasn't. Nor did they have any warning that the problem was more\n complex until it was too late to change their plans, too late to halt\n the irrevocable movements of a grounding spaceship. Dick should have\n known, of course. He was a spaceman; he had served two tricks on the\n Earth-Venus-Mars run. But all those planets were large; Eros was just a\n mote. A spinning top....\n\n\n Anyway, it was after the final coordinates had been plotted, the last\n bank control unchangeably set, the rockets cut, that they saw the\n curved knife-edge of black slicing up over Eros' rim. For a long moment\n Dick stared at it, a look of angry chagrin in his eyes.\n\n\n \"Well, blast me for an Earth-lubbing idiot! Do you see that, Pop?\"\n\n\n Pop looked like he had shared Dick's persimmon.\n\n\n \"The night-line. We forgot to consider the diurnal revolution.\"\n\n\n \"And now we've got to land in the dark. On strange terrain. Arragh! I\n should have my head examined. I've got a plugged tube somewhere!\"\n\n\n Grampaw Moseley hobbled in, appraised the situation with his\n incomparable ability to detect something amiss. He snorted and rattled\n his cane on the floor.\n\n\n \"They's absolutely nothin',\" he informed the walls, \"to this\n hereditation stuff. Elst why should my own son an' his son be so\n dag-nabbed stoopid?\"\n\n\n \"'What can't be cured,'\" said Pop mildly, \"'must be endured.' We have\n the forward search-beams, son. They will help.\"\n\n\n That was sheer optimism. As they neared the planet its gravitational\n attraction seized them tighter and tighter until they were completely\n under its compulsion. Dusk swept down upon them, the sunlight dulled,\n faded, grayed. Then as the ship nosed downward, suddenly all was black.\n The yellow beam of the search stabbed reluctant shadows, bringing rocky\n crags and rounded tors into swift, terrifying relief.\n\n\n Dick snapped, \"Into your hammocks, everyone! Don't worry. This crate\n will stand a lot of bust-up. It's tough. A little bit of luck—\"\n\n\n But there was perspiration on his forehead, and his fingers played over\n the control banks like frightened moths.\n\n\n There was no further need for the artificial gravs. Eros exerted,\n strangely, incredibly, an attractive power almost as potent as Earth's.\n Dick cut off the gravs, then the hypos. As the last machine-created\n sound died away from the cabin, Bobby heard the high scream of\n atmosphere, raging and tearing at the\nCuchulainn\nwith angry fingers.\n\n\n Through howling Bedlam they tumbled dizzily and for moments that were\n ages long. While Dick labored frantically at the controls, while Moira\n watched with bated breath. Mom said nothing, but her hand sought\n Pop's; Eleanor cradled The Pooch closer to her. Grampaw scowled.\n\n\n And then, suddenly—\n\n\n \"Hold tight! We're grounding!\" cried Dick.\n\n\n And instinctively Bobby braced himself for a shock. But there was\n only a shuddering jar, a lessening of the roar that beat upon their\n eardrums, a dull, flat thud. A sodden, heavy grinding and the groan of\n metal forward. Then a false nausea momentarily assailed him. Because\n for the first time in days the\nCuchulainn\nwas completely motionless.\n\n\n Dick grinned shakily. \"Well!\" he said. \"Well!\"\n\n\n Pop unbuckled his safety belt, climbed gingerly out of his hammock,\n moved to the port, slid back its lock-plate. Bobby said, \"Can you see\n anything, Pop? Can you?\" And Mom, who could read Pop's expressions like\n a book, said, \"What is it, Rob?\"\n\n\n Pop stroked his chin. He said, \"Well, we've landed safely, Richard. But\n I'm afraid we've—er—selected a wet landing field. We seem to be under\n water!\"\n\n\n His hazard was verified immediately. Indisputably. For from the crack\n beneath the door leading from the control turret to the prow-chambers\n of the ship, came a dark trickle that spread and puddled and stained\n and gurgled. Water!\n\n\n Dick cried, \"Hey, this is bad! We'd better get out of here—\"\nHe leaped to his controls. Once more the plaintive hum of the\n hypatomics droned through the cabin, gears ground and clashed as the\n motors caught, something forward exploded dully, distantly. The ship\n rocked and trembled, but did not move. Again Dick tried to jet the\n fore-rockets. Again, and yet again.\n\n\n And on the fourth essay, there ran through the ship a violent shudder,\n broken metal grated shrilly from forward, and the water began bubbling\n and churning through the crack. Deeper and swifter. Dick cut motors and\n turned, his face an angry mask.\n\n\n \"We can't get loose. The entire nose must be stove in! We're leaking\n like a sieve. Look, everybody—get into your bulgers. We'll get out\n through the airlock!\"\n\n\n Mom cried, \"But—but our supplies, Dick! What are we going to do for\n food, clothing, furniture—?\"\n\n\n \"We'll worry about that later. Right now we've got to think of\n ourselves. That-aboy, Bobby! Thanks for getting 'em out. You girls\n remember how to climb into 'em? Eleanor—you take that oversized one.\n That's right. There's room for you and The Pooch—\"\n\n\n The water was almost ankle deep in the control room by the time they\n had all donned spacesuits. Bloated figures in fabricoid bulgers,\n they followed Dick to the airlock. It was weird, and a little bit\n frightening, but to Bobby it was thrilling, too. This was the sort of\n thing you read stories about. Escape from a flooding ship....\n\n\n They had time—or took time—to gather together a few precious\n belongings. Eleanor packed a carrier with baby food for The Pooch,\n Mom a bundle of provisions hastily swept from the galley bins; Pop\n remembered the medical kit and the tool-box, Grampaw was laden down\n with blankets and clothing, Dick burdened himself and Bobby with\n armloads of such things as he saw and forevisioned need for.\n\n\n At the lock, Dick issued final instructions.\n\n\n \"The air in the bulgers will carry you right to the surface. We'll\n gather there, count noses, and decide on our next move. Pop, you go\n first to lead the way, then Mom, and Eleanor, Grampaw—\"\n\n\n Thus, from the heart of the doomed\nCuchulainn\n, they fled. The\n airlock was small. There was room for but one at a time. The water\n was waist—no, breast-deep—by the time all were gone save Bobby and\n Dick. Bobby, whose imagination had already assigned him the command of\n the foundering ship, wanted to uphold the ancient traditions by being\n the last to leave. But Dick had other ideas. He shoved Bobby—not too\n gently—into the lock. Then there was water, black, solid, forbidding,\n about him. And the outer door opening.\n\n\n He stepped forward. And floated upward, feeling an uneasy, quibbly\n feeling in his stomach. Almost immediately a hard something\nclanged!\nagainst his impervite helmet; it was a lead-soled bulger boot; then he\n was bobbing and tossing on shallow black wavelets beside the others.\n\n\n Above him was a blue-black, star-gemmed sky; off to his right, not\n distant, was a rising smudge that must be the mainland. A dark blob\n popped out of the water. Dick.\nMoira reached for the twisted branch.\nDick's voice was metallic through the audios of the space-helmet. \"All\n here, Pop? Everybody all right? Swell! Let's strike out for the shore,\n there. Stick together, now. It isn't far.\"\n\n\n Pop said, \"The ship, Richard?\"\n\n\n \"We'll find it again. I floated up a marking buoy. That round thing\n over there isn't Grampaw.\"\n\n\n Grampaw's voice was raucous, belligerent. \"You bet y'r boots it ain't!\n I'm on my way to terry firmy. The last one ashore's a sissy!\"\n\n\n Swimming in a bulger, Bobby found, was silly. Like paddling a big,\n warm, safe rubber rowboat. The stars winked at him, the soft waves\n explored his face-plate with curious, white fingers of spray. Pretty\n soon there was sand scraping his boots ... a long, smooth beach with\n rolling hills beyond.\nIn the sudden scarlet of dawn, it was impossible to believe the night\n had even been frightening. Throughout the night, the Moseley clan\n huddled together there on the beach, waiting, silent, wondering. But\n when the sun burst over the horizon like a clamoring, brazen gong, they\n looked upon this land which was their new home—and found it good.\n\n\n The night did not last long. But Pop had told them it would not.\n\n\n \"Eros rotates on its axis,\" he explained, \"in about ten hours, forty\n minutes, Earth time measurement. Therefore we shall have 'days' and\n 'nights' of five hours; short dawns or twilights. This will vary\n somewhat, you understand, with the change of seasons.\"\n\n\n Dick asked, \"Isn't that a remarkably slow rotation? For such a tiny\n planet, I mean? After all, Eros is only one hundred and eighty odd\n miles in circumference—\"\n\n\n \"Eros has many peculiarities. Some of them we have discussed before. It\n approaches Earth nearer than any other celestial body, excepting Luna\n and an occasional meteor or comet. When first discovered by Witt, in\n 1898, the world of science marveled at finding a true planetoid with\n such an uncommon orbit. At perihelion it comes far within the orbit of\n Mars; at aphelion it is far outside.\n\n\n \"During its near approach in 1900-01, Eros was seen to vary in\n brightness at intervals of five hours and fifteen or twenty minutes.\n At that time, a few of the more imaginative astronomers offered the\n suggestion that this variation might be caused by diurnal rotation.\n After 1931, though, the planetoid fled from Earth. It was not until\n 1975, the period of its next approach, that the Ronaldson-Chenwith\n expedition visited it and determined the old presumption to be correct.\"\n\n\n \"We're not the first men to visit Eros, then?\"\n\n\n \"Not at all. It was investigated early in the days of spaceflight.\n Two research foundations, the Royal Cosmographic Society and the\n Interplanetary Service, sent expeditions here. During the Black\n Douglass period of terrorism, the S.S.P. set up a brief military\n occupation. The Galactic Metals Corporation at one time attempted\n to establish mining operations here, but the Bureau refused them\n permission, for under the Spacecode of '08, it was agreed by the Triune\n that all asteroids should be settled under land-grant law.\n\n\n \"That is why,\" concluded Pop, \"we are here now. As long as I can\n remember, it has been my dream to take a land-grant colony for my very\n own. Long years ago I decided that Eros should be my settlement. As you\n have said, Richard, it necessitated the pulling of many strings. Eros\n is a wealthy little planet; the man who earns it wins a rich prize.\n More than that, though—\" Pop lifted his face to the skies, now blue\n with hazy morning. There was something terribly bright and proud in his\n eyes. \"More than that, there is the desire to carve a home out of the\n wilderness. To be able to one day say, 'Here is my home that I have\n molded into beauty with my own hands.' Do you know what I mean, son?\n In this workaday world of ours there are no more Earthly frontiers for\n us to dare, as did our forefathers. But still within us all stirs the\n deep, instinctive longing to hew a new home from virgin land—\"\n\n\n His words dwindled into silence, and, inexplicably, Bobby felt awed.\n It was Grampaw Moseley who burst the queer moment into a thousand\n spluttering fragments.\n\n\n \"Talkin' about hewin',\" he said, \"S'posen we 'hew us a few vittles?\n Hey?\"\n\n\n Dick roused himself.\n\n\n \"Right you are, Grampaw,\" he said. \"You can remove your bulgars. I've\n tested the air; it's fine and warm, just as the report said. Moira,\n while Mom and Eleanor are fixing breakfast, suppose you lay out our\n blankets and spare clothing to dry? Grampaw, get a fire going. Pop and\n Bobby and I will get some wood.\"\n\n\n Thus Eros greeted its new masters, and the Moseleys faced morning in\n their new Eden.\nIII\n\n\n Grampaw Moseley wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There were\n no napkins, which suited him fine.\n\n\n \"It warn't,\" he said, \"a bad meal. But it warn't a fust-class un,\n neither. Them synthos an' concentrates ain't got no more flavor than—\"\n\n\n Bobby agreed with him. Syntho ham wasn't too bad. It had a nice, meaty\n taste. And syntho coffee tasted pretty much like the real thing. But\n those syntho eggs tasted like nothing under the sun except just plain,\n awful syntho eggs.\n\n\n Four Eros days—the equivalent of forty-two Earth hours or so—had\n passed since their crash landing. In that short time, much had been\n done to make their beach camp-site comfortable. All members of the\n family were waiting now for Dick to return.\n\n\n Pop said seriously, \"I'm afraid you'll have to eat them and like them\n for a little while, Father. We can't get fresh foods until we're\n settled; we can't settle until—Ah! Here comes Dick!\"\n\n\n \"I'll eat 'em,\" grumbled Grampaw, \"but be durned if I'll like 'em.\n What'd you l'arn, Dicky-boy?\"\n\n\n Dick removed his helmet, unzipped himself from his bulger, shook his\n head.\n\n\n \"It looks worse every time I go back. I may not be able to get in the\n airlock again if the ship keeps on settling. The whole prow split wide\n open when we hit, the ship is full of water. The flour and sugar and\n things like that are ruined. I managed to get a few more things out,\n though. Some tools, guns, wire—stuff like that.\"\n\n\n \"How about the hypatomic?\"\n\n\n \"Let him eat, Rob,\" said Mom. \"He's hungry.\"\n\n\n \"I can eat and talk at the same time, Mom. I think I can get the\n hypatomic out. I'd better, anyhow. If we're ever going to raise the\n ship, we'll need power. And atomic power is the only kind we can get in\n this wilderness.\" And he shook his head. \"But we can't do it in a day\n or a week. It will take time.\"\n\n\n \"Time,\" said Pop easily, \"is the one commodity with which we are\n over-supplied.\" He thought for a minute. \"If that's the way it is, we\n might as well move.\"\n\n\n \"Move?\" demanded Grampaw. \"What's the matter with the place we're at?\"\n\n\n \"For one thing, it's too exposed. An open beach is no place for a\n permanent habitation. So far we've been very lucky. We've had no\n storms. But for a permanent camp-site, we must select a spot further\n inland. A fertile place, where we can start crops. A place with fresh,\n running water, natural shelter against cold and wind and rain—\"\n\n\n \"What'll we do?\" grinned Dick. \"Flip a coin?\"\n\n\n \"No. Happily, there is a spot like that within an easy walk of here.\n I discovered it yesterday while studying the terrain.\" Pop took a\n stick, scratched a rude drawing on the sand before him. \"This is the\n coastline. We landed on the west coast of this inlet. The land we see\n across there, that low, flat land, I judge to be delta islands. Due\n south of us is a fine, fresh-water river, watering fertile valleys to\n either side. There, I think, we should build.\"\n\n\n Dick nodded.\n\n\n \"Fish from the sea, vegetables from our own farm—is there any game,\n Pop?\"\n\n\n \"That I don't know. We haven't seen any. Yet.\"\n\n\n \"We'll find out. Will this place you speak of be close enough to let me\n continue working on the\nCuchulainn\n? Yes? Well, that's that. When do\n we start?\"\n\n\n \"Why not now? There's nothing to keep us here.\"\nThey packed their meager belongings while Dick finished his meal; the\n sun was high when they left the beach. They followed the shore line\n southward, the ground rising steadily before them. And before evening,\n they came to a rolling vale through which a sparkling river meandered\n lazily to the sea.\n\n\n Small wonders unfolded before their eyes. Marching along, they\n had discovered that there was game on Eros. Not quite Earthly, of\n course—but that was not to be expected. There was one small, furry\n beast about the size of a rabbit, only its color was vivid leaf-green.\n Once, as they passed a wooded glen, a pale, fawnlike creature stole\n from the glade, watched them with soft, curious eyes. Another time\n they all started violently as the familiar siren of a Patrol monitor\n screamed raucously from above them; they looked up to see an irate,\n orange and jade-green bird glaring down at them.\n\n\n And of course there were insects—\n\n\n \"There would have to be insects,\" Pop said. \"There could be no fruitful\n vegetable life without insects. Plants need bees and crawling ants—or\n their equivalent—to carry the pollen from one flower to another.\"\n\n\n They chose a site on the riverside, a half mile or so from, above,\n and overlooking the sea. They selected it because a spring of pure,\n bubbling water was nearby, because the woodlands dwindled away into\n lush fields. And Pop said,\n\n\n \"This is it. We'll build our home on yonder knoll. And who knows—\"\n Again there grew that strange look in his eyes. \"Who knows but that\n it may be the shoot from which, a time hence, there may spring many\n cabins, then finer homes, and buildings, and mansions, until at last\n there is a great, brave city here on this port by the delta—\"\n\n\n \"That's it, Pop!\" said Dick suddenly. \"There's the name for our\n settlement. Delta Port!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Pop's posture so poor?", "question_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE_1", "options": ["It only appeared so compared to the S.S.P. man.", "He was carrying a large item.", "Because of his work doing scientific research.", "He had been standing in line all day."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who is The Pooch?", "question_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE_2", "options": ["The family dog.", "Dick and Eleanor's child.", "Grampaw Moseley's alter-ego.", "Mom and Pop's youngest child."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was the Cuchulainn able to make the journey to Eros?", "question_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE_3", "options": ["It was insured by the Solar Space Patrol.", "Dick fixed it, so it was fully operational.", "It was a brand-new ship. ", "It had protection from the General Spacecraft Cradles."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the family most likely move to Eros in the first place?", "question_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE_4", "options": ["To give Eleanor and Dick's new baby a better life.", "Because of Pop's frontiersman spirit.", "They wanted to turn over a new leaf.", "Dick wanted to prove his technical ability."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Mom feel about moving to Eros?", "question_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE_5", "options": ["She wanted to stay in Great New York.", "She was excited and supportive of her husband's dream.", "She would do whatever Rob wanted to do.", "She felt nervous apprehension."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the root of the Cuchulainn's landing issue?", "question_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE_6", "options": ["Rob's calculated coordinates were incorrect.", "Dick had failed to fix essential broken parts on the ship.", "Dick and Rob had anticipated landing during daylight hours, not at night.", "The gravitational pull was too strong."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Pop's ultimate vision for Eros?", "question_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE_7", "options": ["A big, growing city by the river.", "A land where everyone can become wealthy.", "A port by the delta where space travelers can come to harbor.", "A small settlement where his family can thrive."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Dick's main concern about moving their camp to the river?", "question_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE_8", "options": ["What the weather would be in the new location.", "When to start building the encampment.", "Deciding where exactly to start building.", "Food and proximity to the sunken ship."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Dick's voice \"metallic\" after the crash-landing?", "question_unique_id": "62498_9BZIZ3SE_9", "options": ["He had injured himself in the landing.", "He spoke via radio transmission.", "His voice was altered due to his spacesuit.", "He had swallowed a lot of saltwater. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/4/9/62498//62498-h//62498-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61119", "set_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1012", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Dangerous Quarry", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Science fiction; Missouri -- Fiction; Short stories; Parapsychology -- Fiction; Insurance adjusters -- Fiction; PS; Cities and towns -- Fiction; Ozark Mountains -- Fiction", "article": "DANGEROUS QUARRY\nBY JIM HARMON\nOne little village couldn't have\n\n a monopoly on all the bad breaks\n\n in the world. They did, though!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, March 1962.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThey say automation makes jobs, especially if \"they\" are trying to keep\n their own job of selling automation machines. I know the Actuarvac made\n one purple passion of a job for me, the unpleasantly fatal results of\n which are still lingering with me.\n\n\n Thad McCain, my boss at Manhattan-Universal Insurance, beamed over\n the sprawling automatic brain's silver gauges and plastic toggles as\n proudly as if he had just personally gave birth to it. \"This will\n simplify your job to the point of a pleasant diversion, Madison.\"\n\n\n \"Are you going to keep paying me for staying with my little hobby?\" I\n asked, suspiciously eyeing my chrome competitor.\n\n\n \"The Actuarvac poses no threat to your career. It will merely keep you\n from flying off on wild-goose chases. It will unvaryingly separate from\n the vast body of legitimate claims the phony ones they try to spike us\n for. Then all that remains is for you to gather the accessory details,\n the evidence to jail our erring customers.\"\n\n\n \"Fine,\" I said. I didn't bother to inform him that that was all my job\n had ever been.\n\n\n McCain shuffled his cards. They were cards for the machine, listing new\n individual claims on company policies. Since the two-month-old machine\n was literate and could read typewriting, the cards weren't coded or\n punched. He read the top one. \"Now this, for instance. No adjuster\n need investigate this accident. The circumstances obviously are such\n that no false claim could be filed. Of course, the brain will make\n an unfailing analysis of all the factors involved and clear the claim\n automatically and officially.\"\n\n\n McCain threaded the single card into the slot for an example to me.\n He then flicked the switch and we stood there watching the monster\n ruminate thoughtfully. It finally rang a bell and spit the card back at\n Manhattan-Universal's top junior vice-president.\n\n\n He took it like a man.\n\n\n \"That's what the machine is for,\" he said philosophically. \"To detect\n human error. Hmm. What kind of a shove do you get out of this?\"\n\n\n He handed me the rejected claim card. I took it, finding a new, neatly\n typed notation on it. It said:\n\n\n Investigate the Ozark village of Granite City.\n\n\n \"You want me to project it in a movie theater and see how it stands it\n all alone in the dark?\" I asked.\n\n\n \"Just circle up the wagon train and see how the Indians fall,\" McCain\n said anxiously.\n\n\n \"It's too general. What does the nickel-brained machine mean by\n investigating a whole town? I don't know if it has crooked politics,\n a polygamy colony or a hideout for supposedly deported gangsters. I\n don't care much either. It's not my business. How could a whole town be\n filing false life and accident claims?\"\n\n\n \"Find that out,\" he said. \"I trust the machine. There have been cases\n of mass collusion before. Until you get back, we are making no more\n settlements with that settlement.\"\nResearch. To a writer that generally means legally permissible\n plagiarism. For an insurance adjuster, it means earnest work.\n\n\n Before I headed for the hills, or the Ozark Mountains, I walked a few\n hundred feet down the hall and into the manual record files. The brain\n abstracted from empirical data but before I planed out to Granite City\n I had to find the basis for a few practical, nasty suspicions.\n\n\n Four hours of flipping switches and looking at microfilm projections\n while a tawny redhead in a triangular fronted uniform carried me reels\n to order gave me only two ideas. Neither was very original. The one\n that concerned business was that the whole village of Granite City must\n be accident-prone.\n\n\n I rejected that one almost immediately. While an accident-prone was\n in himself a statistical anomaly, the idea of a whole town of them\n gathered together stretched the fabric of reality to the point where\n even an invisible re-weaver couldn't help it.\n\n\n There was an explanation for the recent rise in the accident rate down\n there. The rock quarry there had gone into high-level operation. I\n knew why from the floor, walls, ceiling border, table trimmings in the\n records room. They were all granite. The boom in granite for interior\n and exterior decoration eclipsed earlier periods of oak, plastics,\n wrought iron and baked clay completely. The distinctive grade of\n granite from Granite City was being put into use all over the planet\n and in the Officer's Clubs on the Moon and Mars.\n\n\n Yet the rise in accident, compared to the rise in production, was out\n of all proportion.\n\n\n Furthermore, the work at the quarry could hardly explain the excessive\n accident reports we had had from the village as far back as our records\n went.\n\n\n We had paid off on most of the claims since they seemed irrefutably\n genuine. All were complete with eye-witness reports and authenticated\n circumstances.\n\n\n There was one odd note in the melodic scheme: We had never had a claim\n for any kind of automobile accident from Granite City.\n\n\n I shut off the projector.\n\n\n It may be best to keep an open mind, but I have found in practice that\n you have to have some kind of working theory which you must proceed to\n prove is either right or wrong.\n\n\n Tentatively, I decided that for generations the citizens of\n Granite City had been in an organized conspiracy to defraud\n Manhattan-Universal and its predecessors of hundreds upon hundreds of\n thousands of dollars in false accident claims.\n\n\n Maybe they made their whole livelihood off us before the quarry opened\n up.\n\n\n I used my pocket innercom and had my secretary get me a plane\n reservation and a gun.\n\n\n After so many profitable decades, Granite City wasn't going to take\n kindly to my spoil-sport interference.\nThe Absinthe Flight to Springfield was jolly and relatively fast.\n Despite headwinds we managed Mach 1.6 most of the way. My particular\n stewardess was a blonde, majoring in Video Psychotherapy in her night\n courses. I didn't have much time to get acquainted or more than hear\n the outline of her thesis on the guilt purgings effected by The Life\n and Legend of Gary Cooper. The paunchy businessman in the next lounge\n was already nibbling the ear of his red-haired hostess. He was the\n type of razorback who took the girls for granted and aimed to get his\n money's worth. I gave Helen, the blonde, a kiss on the cheek and began\n flipping through the facsimiles in my briefcase as we chute-braked for\n a landing at the Greater Ozarks.\n\n\n It took me a full five minutes to find out that I couldn't take a\n copter to Granite City. Something about downdrafts in the mountains.\n\n\n Since that put me back in the days of horsepower, I trotted over to the\n automobile rental and hired a few hundred of them under the hood of a\n Rolls. That was about the only brand of car that fit me. I hadn't been\n able to get my legs into any other foreign car since I was fifteen,\n and I have steadfastly refused to enter an American model since they\n all sold out their birthrights as passenger cars and went over to the\n tractor-trailer combinations they used only for cargo trucks when I was\n a boy. Dragging around thirty feet of car is sheer nonsense, even for\n prestige.\n\n\n It was a tiresome fifty-mile drive, on manual all the way after I left\n the radar-channel area of the city. Up and down, slowing for curves,\n flipping into second for the hills.\n\n\n The whole trip hardly seemed worth it when I saw the cluster of\n painted frame buildings that was Granite City. They looked like a\n tumble of dingy building blocks tossed in front of a rolled-up indigo\n sports shirt. That was Granite Mountain in the near foreground. But I\n remembered that over the course of some forty years the people in these\n few little stacks of lumber had taken Manhattan-Universal for three\n quarters of a megabuck.\n\n\n I turned off onto the gravel road, spraying my fenders with a hail of\n a racket. Then I stepped down hard on my brakes, bracing myself to keep\n from going through the windscreen. I had almost sideswiped an old man\n sitting at the side of the road, huddled in his dusty rags.\n\n\n \"Are you okay?\" I yelled, thumbing down the window.\n\n\n \"I've suffered no harm at your hands—or your wheels, sir. But I could\n use some help,\" the old man said. \"Could I trouble you for a lift when\n you leave town?\"\n\n\n I wasn't too sure about that. Most of these guys who are on the hobo\n circuit talking like they owned some letters to their names besides\n their initials belonged to some cult or other. I try to be as tolerant\n as I can, and some of my best friends are thugs, but I don't want to\n drive with them down lonely mountain roads.\n\n\n \"We'll see what we can work out,\" I said. \"Right now can you tell me\n where I can find Marshal Thompson?\"\n\n\n \"I can,\" he said. \"But you will have to walk there.\"\n\n\n \"Okay. It shouldn't be much of a walk in Granite City.\"\n\n\n \"It's the house at the end of the street.\"\n\n\n \"It is,\" I said. \"Why shouldn't I drive up there? The street's open.\"\n\n\n The old man stared at me with red-shot eyes. \"Marshal Thompson doesn't\n like people to run automobiles on the streets of Granite City.\"\n\n\n \"So I'll just\nlock\nthe car up and walk over there. I couldn't go\n getting tire tracks all over your clean streets.\"\n\n\n The old man watched as I climbed down and locked up the Rolls.\n\n\n \"You would probably get killed if you did run the car here, you know,\"\n he said conversationally.\n\n\n \"Well,\" I said, \"I'll be getting along.\" I tried to walk sideways so I\n could keep an eye on him.\n\n\n \"Come back,\" he said, as if he had doubts.\nThe signs of a menacing conspiracy were growing stronger, I felt. I\n had my automatic inside my shirt, but I decided I might need a less\n lethal means of expression. Without breaking stride, I scooped up a\n baseball-size hunk of bluish rock from the road and slipped it into my\n small change pocket.\n\n\n I have made smarter moves in my time.\nAs I approached the house at the end of the lane, I saw it was about\n the worse construction job I had seen in my life. It looked as\n architecturally secure as a four-year-old's drawing of his home. The\n angles were measurably out of line. Around every nail head were two\n nails bent out of shape and hammered down, and a couple of dozen welts\n in the siding where the hammer had missed any nail. The paint job was\n spotty and streaked. Half the panes in the windows were cracked. I\n fought down the dust in my nose, afraid of the consequences of a sneeze\n to the place.\n\n\n My toe scuffed the top porch step and I nearly crashed face first into\n the front door. I had been too busy looking at the house, I decided. I\n knocked.\n\n\n Moments later, the door opened.\n\n\n The lean-faced man who greeted me had his cheeks crisscrossed with\n razor nicks and his shirt on wrong side out. But his eyes were bright\n and sparrow alert.\n\n\n \"Are you Mr. Marshal Thompson, the agent for Manhattan-Universal\n Insurance?\" I put to him.\n\n\n \"I'm\nthe\nmarshal, name of Thompson. But you ain't the first to take\n my title for my Christian name. You from the company?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" I said. \"Were you expecting me?\"\n\n\n Thompson nodded. \"For forty-one years.\"\nThompson served the coffee in the chipped cups, favoring only slightly\n his burned fingers.\n\n\n Catching the direction of my glance, he said, \"Company is worth a few\n scalds, Mr. Madison.\"\n\n\n I accepted the steaming cup and somehow it very nearly slipped out of\n my hands. I made a last microsecond retrieve.\n\n\n The marshal nodded thoughtfully. \"You're new here.\"\n\n\n \"First time,\" I said, sipping coffee. It was awful. He must have made a\n mistake and put salt into it instead of sugar.\n\n\n \"You think the claims I've been filing for my people are false?\"\n\n\n \"The home office has some suspicions of that,\" I admitted.\n\n\n \"I don't blame them, but they ain't. Look, the company gambles on luck,\n doesn't it?\"\n\n\n \"No. It works on percentages calculated from past experience.\"\n\n\n \"But I mean it knows that there will be, say, a hundred fatal car\n crashes in a day. But it doesn't know if maybe ninety of them will be\n in Iowa and only ten in the rest of the country.\"\n\n\n \"There's something to that. We call it probability, not luck.\"\n\n\n \"Well, probability says that more accidents are going to occur in\n Granite City than anywhere else in the country, per capita.\"\n\n\n I shook my head at Thompson. \"That's not probability. Theoretically,\n anything can happen but I don't—I can't—believe that in this town\n everybody has chanced to be an accident prone. Some other factor is\n operating. You are all deliberately faking these falls and fires—\"\n\n\n \"We're not,\" Thompson snapped.\n\n\n \"Or else something is causing you to have this trouble. Maybe the\n whole town is a bunch of dope addicts. Maybe you grow your own mescalin\n or marijuana; it's happened before.\"\n\n\n Thompson laughed.\n\n\n \"Whatever is going on, I'm going to find it out. I don't care what you\n do, but if I can find a greater risk here and prove it, the Commission\n will let us up our rates for this town. Probably beyond the capacity of\n these people, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\n \"That would be a real tragedy, Mr. Madison. Insurance is vital to this\n town. Nobody could survive a year here without insurance. People pay me\n for their premiums before they pay their grocery bills.\"\n\n\n I shrugged, sorrier than I could let on. \"I won't be able to pay for\n my own groceries, marshal, if I don't do the kind of job the company\n expects. I'm going to snoop around.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" he said grudgingly, \"but you'll have to do it on foot.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I understood you didn't like cars on your streets. At least not\n the cars of outsiders.\"\n\n\n \"That doesn't have anything to do with it. Nobody in Granite City owns\n a car. It would be suicide for anybody to drive a car, same as it would\n be to have a gas or oil stove, instead of coal, or to own a bathtub.\"\n\n\n I took a deep breath.\n\n\n \"Showers,\" Thompson said. \"With nonskid mats and handrails.\"\n\n\n I shook hands with him. \"You've been a great help.\"\n\n\n \"Four o'clock,\" he said. \"Roads are treacherous at night.\"\n\n\n \"There's always a dawn.\"\n\n\n Thompson met my eyes. \"That's not quite how we look at it here.\"\nII\n\n\n The quarry was a mess.\n\n\n I couldn't see any in the way they sliced the granite out of the\n mountain. The idea of a four-year-old—a four-year-old moron—going\n after a mound of raspberry ice cream kept turning up in my mind as I\n walked around.\n\n\n The workmen were gone; it was after five local time. But here and\n there I saw traces of them. Some of them were sandwich wrappers and\n cigarette stubs, but most of the traces were smears of blood. Blood\n streaked across sharp rocks, blood oozing from beneath heavy rocks,\n blood smeared on the handles and working surfaces of sledge hammers and\n tools. The place was as gory as a battlefield.\n\n\n \"What are you looking for, bud?\"\n\n\n The low, level snarl had come from a burly character in a syn-leather\n jacket and narrow-brimmed Stetson.\n\n\n \"The reason you have so many accidents here,\" I said frankly. \"I'm from\n the insurance company. Name's Madison.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah, I know.\"\n\n\n I had supposed he would.\n\n\n \"I'm Kelvin, the foreman here,\" the big man told me, extending a ham of\n a fist to be shook. \"Outside, doing my Army time, I noticed that most\n people don't have as many slipups as we do here. Never could figure it\n out.\"\n\n\n \"This rock is part of it—\"\n\n\n \"What do you mean by that!\" Kelvin demanded savagely.\n\n\n \"I mean the way you work it. No system to it. No stratification, no\n plateau work...\"\n\n\n \"Listen, Madison, don't talk about what you don't know anything\n about. The stuff in these walls isn't just rock; it isn't even plain\n granite. Granite City exports some of the finest grade of the stone in\n the world. And it's used all over the world. We aren't just a bunch\n of meatheaded ditch diggers—we are craftsmen. We have to figure a\n different way of getting out every piece of stone.\"\n\n\n \"It's too bad.\"\n\n\n \"What's too bad?\"\n\n\n \"That you chose the wrong way so often,\" I said.\n\n\n Kelvin breathed a virile grade of tobacco into my face. \"Listen,\n Madison, we have been working this quarry for generations, sometimes\n more of us working than other times. Today most of us are working\n getting the stone out. That's the way we like it. We don't want any\n outsider coming in and interfering with that.\"\n\n\n \"If this quarry has anything to do with defrauding Manhattan-Universal,\n I can tell you that I will do something about that!\"\n\n\n As soon as my teeth clicked back together, the sickening feeling hit me\n that I shouldn't have said that.\nThe general store was called a supermarket, but it wasn't particularly\n superior.\n\n\n I took a seat at the soda fountain and took a beer, politely declining\n the teen-age clerk's offer of a shot of white lightning from the\n Pepsi-Cola fountain syrup jug for a quarter.\n\n\n Behind me were three restaurant tables and one solitary red-upholstered\n booth. Two men somewhere between forty and sixty sat at the nearest\n table playing twenty-one.\n\n\n Over the foam of my stein I saw the old man I had almost run down in\n the road. He marched through the two-thirds of the building composed of\n rows of can goods and approached the fat man at the cash register.\n\n\n \"Hello, Professor,\" the fat man said. \"What can we do for you?\"\n\n\n \"I'd like to mail a letter,\" he said in an urgent voice.\n\n\n \"Sure, Professor, I'll send it right off on the facsimile machine as\n soon as I get a free moment.\"\n\n\n \"You're sure you can send it? Right away?\"\n\n\n \"Positive. Ten cents, Professor.\"\n\n\n The professor fumbled in his pants' pocket and fished out a dime. He\n fingered it thoughtfully.\n\n\n \"I suppose the letter can wait,\" he said resignedly. \"I believe I will\n buy a pair of doughnuts, Mr. Haskel.\"\n\n\n \"Why not get a hamburger, Professor? Special sale today. Only a dime.\n And since you're such a good customer I'll throw in a cup of coffee and\n the two sinkers for nothing.\"\n\n\n \"That's—kind of you,\" the old man said awkwardly.\n\n\n Haskel shrugged. \"A man has to eat.\"\n\n\n The man called \"the professor\" came over and sat down two stools away,\n ignoring me. The clerk dialed his hamburger and served it.\n\n\n I stayed with my beer and my thoughts.\n\n\n More and more, I was coming to believe that Granite City wasn't a job\n for an investigative adjuster like myself but a psychological adjuster.\n Crime is a structural flaw in a community, yes. But when the whole\n society is criminal, distorted, you can't isolate the flaw. The whole\n village was meat for a sociologist; let him figure out why otherwise\n decent citizens felt secure in conspiracy to defraud an honored\n corporation.\n\n\n I didn't feel that I was licked or that the trip had been a failure.\n I had merely established to my intuitive satisfaction that the job was\n not in my field.\n\n\n I glanced at the old man. The proprietor of the store knew him and\n evidently thought him harmless enough to feed.\n\n\n \"I think I can make it down the mountain before dark, Old Timer,\" I\n called over to him. \"You can come along if you like.\"\n\n\n The acne-faced kid behind the counter stared at me. I looked over and\n caught the bright little eyes of Haskel, the proprietor, too. Finally,\n the old professor turned on his stool, his face pale and his eyes sad\n and resigned.\n\n\n \"I doubt very much if either of us will be leaving, Mr. Madison,\" he\n said. \"Now.\"\nI took my beer and the professor his coffee over to the single booth.\n We looked at each other across the shiny table and our beverage\n containers.\n\n\n \"I am Doctor Arnold Parnell of Duke University,\" the professor said. \"I\n left on my sabbatical five months ago. I have been here ever since.\"\n\n\n I looked at his clothes. \"You must not have been very well fixed for a\n year's vacation, Professor.\"\n\n\n \"I,\" he said, \"have enough traveler's checks with me to paper a\n washroom. Nobody in this town will cash them for me.\"\n\n\n \"I can understand why you want to go somewhere where people are more\n trusting in that case.\"\n\n\n \"They know the checks are good. It's\nme\nthey refuse to trust to leave\n this place. They think they\ncan't\nlet me go.\"\n\n\n \"I don't see any shackles on you,\" I remarked.\n\n\n \"Just because you can't see them,\" he growled, \"doesn't mean they\n aren't there. Marshal Thompson has the only telephone in the village.\n He has politely refused to let me use it. I'm a suspicious and\n undesirable character; he's under no obligation to give me telephone\n privileges, he says. Haskel has the Post Office concession—the Telefax\n outfit behind the money box over there. He takes my letters but I never\n see him send them off. And I never get a reply.\"\n\n\n \"Unfriendly of them,\" I said conservatively. \"But how can they stop you\n from packing your dental floss and cutting out?\"\n\n\n \"Haskel has the only motor vehicle in town—a half-ton pick-up, a\n minuscule contrivance less than the size of a passenger car. He makes\n about one trip a week down into the city for supplies and package mail.\n He's been the only one in or out of Granite City for five months.\"\n\n\n It seemed incredible—more than that, unlikely, to me. \"How about the\n granite itself? How do they ship it out?\"\n\n\n \"It's an artificial demand product, like diamonds,\" Professor Parnell\n said. \"They stockpile it and once a year the executive offices for the\n company back in Nashville runs in a portable monorail railroad up the\n side of the mountain to take it out. That won't be for another four\n months, as nearly as I can find out. I may not last that long.\"\n\n\n \"How are you living?\" I asked. \"If they won't take your checks—\"\n\n\n \"I do odd jobs for people. They feed me, give me a little money\n sometimes.\"\n\n\n \"I can see why you want to ride out with me,\" I said. \"Haven't you ever\n thought of just\nwalking\nout?\"\n\n\n \"Fifty miles down a steep mountain road? I'm an old man, Mr. Madison,\n and I've gotten even older since I came to Granite City.\"\n\n\n I nodded. \"You have any papers, any identification, to back this up?\"\n\n\n Wordlessly, he handed over his billfold, letters, enough identification\n to have satisfied Allen Pinkerton or John Edgar Hoover.\n\n\n \"Okay,\" I drawled. \"I'll accept your story for the moment. Now answer\n me the big query: Why are the good people of Granite City doing this to\n you? By any chance, you wouldn't happen to know of a mass fraud they\n are perpetrating on Manhattan-Universal?\"\n\n\n \"I know nothing of their ethical standards,\" Parnell said, \"but I do\n know that they are absolutely\nsubhuman\n!\"\n\n\n \"I admit I have met likelier groups of human beings in my time.\"\n\n\n \"No, understand me. These people are literally subhuman—they are\n inferior to other human beings.\"\n\n\n \"Look, I know the Klan is a growing organization but I can't go along\n with you.\"\n\n\n \"Madison, understand me, I insist. Ethnologically speaking, it is well\n known that certain tribes suffer certain deficiencies due to diet,\n climate, et cetera. Some can't run, sing, use mathematics. The people\n of Granite City have the most unusual deficency on record, I admit.\n Their\npsionic\nsenses have been impaired. They are completely devoid\n of any use of telepathy, precognition, telekinesis.\"\n\"Because they aren't supermen, that doesn't mean that they are submen,\"\n I protested. \"I don't have any psionic abilities either.\"\n\n\n \"But you do!\" Parnell said earnestly. \"Everybody has some psionics\n ability, but we don't realize it. We don't have the fabulous abilities\n of a few recorded cases of supermen, but we have some, a trace. Granite\n City citizens have\nno\npsionic ability whatsoever, not even the little\n that you and I and the rest of the world have!\"\n\n\n \"You said you were Duke University, didn't you?\" I mused. \"Maybe you\n know what you are talking about; I've never been sure. But these\n people can't suffer very much from their lack of what you call psi\n ability.\"\n\n\n \"I tell you they do,\" he said hoarsely. \"We never realize it but we all\n have some power of precognition. If we didn't, we would have a hundred\n accidents a day—just as these people\ndo\n. They can't foresee the\n bump in the road the way we can, or that that particular match will\n flare a little higher and burn their fingers. There are other things,\n as well. You'll find it is almost impossible to carry on a lengthy\n conversation with any of them—they have no telepathic ability, no\n matter how slight, to see through the semantic barrier. None of them\n can play ball. They don't have the unconscious psionic ability to\n influence the ball in flight. All of us can do that, even if the case\n of a 'Poltergeist' who can lift objects is rare.\"\n\n\n \"Professor, you mean these people are holding you here simply so you\n won't go out and tell the rest of the world that they are submen?\"\n\n\n \"They don't want the world to know\nwhy\nthey are psionically\n subnormal,\" he said crisply. \"It's the\ngranite\n! I don't understand\n why myself. I'm not a physicist or a biologist. But for some reason the\n heavy concentration and particular pattern of the radioactive radiation\n in its matrix is responsible for both inhibiting the genes that\n transmit psi powers from generation to generation\nand\naffecting those\n abilities in the present generation. A kind of psionic sterility.\"\n\n\n \"How do you know this?\"\n\n\n \"We haven't the time for all that. But think about it. What else\ncould\nit be? It's that granite that they are shipping all over the\n world, spreading the contamination. I want to stop that contamination.\n To the people of Granite City that means ruining their only industry,\n putting them all out of work. They are used to this psionic sterility;\n they don't see anything so bad about it. Besides, like everybody else,\n they have some doubts that there really are such things as telepathy\n and the rest to be affected.\"\n\n\n \"Frankly,\" I said, hedging only a little, \"I don't know what to\n make of your story. This is something to be decided by somebody\n infallible—like the Pope or the President or Board Chairman of\n Manhattan-Universal. But the first thing to do is get you out of here.\n We had better get back to my car. I've got good lights to get down the\n mountain.\"\n\n\n Parnell jumped up eagerly, and brushed over his china mug, staining the\n tabletop with brown caffeine.\n\n\n \"Sorry,\" he said. \"I should have been precognizant of that. I try to\n stay away from the rock as much as possible, but it's getting to me.\"\n\n\n I should have remembered something then. But, naturally, I didn't.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Madison investigate the manual record files prior to visiting Granite City?", "question_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC_1", "options": ["In order to hopefully discover some red-flag indicators of insurance fraud.", "To learn more about the Ozark Mountains.", "To gather the necessary paperwork for his investigation.", "To educate himself on the history of Granite City."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Madison drive a Rolls?", "question_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC_2", "options": ["He was too tall for most models and disliked the business decisions of American automakers.", "The manual gears were simpler to operate on the hills of Granite City.", "He felt it was the only vehicle that fit his personality.", "It was a good size and provided a smooth ride around the Ozark Mountains."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the most likely reason for the lack of car insurance claims in Granite City?", "question_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC_3", "options": ["The townspeople would be killed for making those kinds of claims.", "The Actuarvac was more focused on large-scale claims.", "The orchestrated fraud in Granite City was too complex and time-consuming to devote time to smaller claims.", "It was very unsafe to drive any vehicles in Granite City."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Madison ultimately think gathering the large rock was a bad decision?", "question_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC_4", "options": ["It would begin to affect his memory later.", "It was too heavy to carry around the city.", "The Professor would eventually use it to prevent him from leaving.", "The gun would have been a better option for self-defense."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Madison thinking about a child eating ice cream as he investigated?", "question_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC_5", "options": ["He was really hungry after seeing the workers' sandwich wrappers and craving something sweet.", "The unique colorization of the granite looked like raspberry ice cream.", "He missed his son, and eating ice cream together was a fond memory.", "The haphazard way the granite was harvested and the bloody scene nearby reminded him of it."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the likely cause of the proliferation of accidents in Granite City?", "question_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC_6", "options": ["Something about the granite creates an inability to predict when an accident may occur.", "The altitude of the Ozark Mountains impairs the reasoning and logic of the townspeople.", "The foolishness of the city's population.", "The poor construction of the city's buildings and infrastructure."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the population of Granite City want to keep their deficiency a secret?", "question_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC_7", "options": ["They are not aware of their own psionic sterility.", "They want to contaminate the entire world.", "They are scared of losing their livelihood.", "They are afraid bad publicity would lead to a drop in tourism."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the Professor call the people of Granite City \"subhuman\"?", "question_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC_8", "options": ["He was exaggerating out of frustration with his inability to leave the city.", "He harbored racist sentiments.", "He was a member of the Ku Klux Klan.", "Their psionic deficiency rendered them incapable of essential human logic and reasoning."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Madison start to believe the investigation was out of his league?", "question_unique_id": "61119_27E8WDJC_9", "options": ["The odd behavior of specific townspeople made him feel uncomfortable.", "He suspected there was a supernatural force at work in the quarry.", "He wasn't equipped to handle claims for an entire city.", "He felt there was a criminal undercurrent to the situation."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0025", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0002", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0033", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/1/1/61119//61119-h//61119-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63616", "set_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1012", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Hagerty's Enzymes", "year": 1966, "author": "Haley, A. L.", "topic": "Businessmen -- Fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Robots -- Fiction; Hotels -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "HAGERTY'S ENZYMES\nBy A. L. HALEY\nThere's a place for every man and a man for\n \nevery place, but on robot-harried Mars the\n \nsituation was just a little different.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Spring 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHarper Breen sank down gingerly into the new Relaxo-Lounge. He placed\n twitching hands on the arm-rests and laid his head back stiffly. He\n closed his fluttering eyelids and clamped his mouth to keep the corner\n from jumping.\n\n\n \"Just lie back, Harp,\" droned his sister soothingly. \"Just give in and\n let go of everything.\"\n\n\n Harper tried to let go of everything. He gave in to the chair. And\n gently the chair went to work. It rocked rhythmically, it vibrated\n tenderly. With velvety cushions it massaged his back and arms and legs.\n\n\n For all of five minutes Harper stood it. Then with a frenzied lunge\n he escaped the embrace of the Relaxo-Lounge and fled to a gloriously\n stationary sofa.\n\n\n \"Harp!\" His sister, Bella, was ready to weep with exasperation. \"Dr.\n Franz said it would be just the thing for you! Why won't you give it a\n trial?\"\n\n\n Harper glared at the preposterous chair. \"Franz!\" he snarled. \"That\n prize fathead! I've paid him a fortune in fees. I haven't slept for\n weeks. I can't eat anything but soup. My nerves are jangling like\n a four-alarm fire. And what does he prescribe? A blasted jiggling\n baby carriage! Why, I ought to send him the bill for it!\" Completely\n outraged, he lay back on the couch and closed his eyes.\n\n\n \"Now, Harp, you know you've never obeyed his orders. He told you\n last year that you'd have to ease up. Why do you have to try to run\n the whole world? It's the strain of all your business worries that's\n causing your trouble. He told you to take a long vacation or you'd\n crack up. Don't blame him for your own stubbornness.\"\n\n\n Harper snorted. His large nose developed the sound magnificently.\n \"Vacation!\" he snorted. \"Batting a silly ball around or dragging a hook\n after a stupid fish! Fine activities for an intelligent middle-aged\n man! And let me correct you. It isn't business worries that are driving\n me to a crack-up. It's the strain of trying to get some sensible,\n reasonable coöperation from the nincompoops I have to hire! It's the\n idiocy of the human race that's got me whipped! It's the—\"\n\n\n \"Hey, Harp, old man!\" His brother-in-law, turning the pages of the\n new colorama magazine, INTERPLANETARY, had paused at a double-spread.\n \"Didn't you have a finger in those Martian equatorial wells they sunk\n twenty years ago?\"\n\n\n Harper's hands twitched violently. \"Don't mention that fiasco!\" he\n rasped. \"That deal nearly cost me my shirt! Water, hell! Those wells\n spewed up the craziest conglomeration of liquids ever tapped!\"\nScribney, whose large, phlegmatic person and calm professorial brain\n were the complete antithesis of Harper's picked-crow physique and\n scheming financier's wits, looked severely over his glasses. Harp's\n nervous tribulations were beginning to bore him, as well as interfere\n with the harmony of his home.\n\n\n \"You're away behind the times, Harp,\" he declared. \"Don't you know\n that those have proved to be the most astoundingly curative springs\n ever discovered anywhere? Don't you know that a syndicate has built\n the largest extra-terrestial hotel of the solar system there and that\n people are flocking to it to get cured of whatever ails 'em? Old man,\n you missed a bet!\"\n\n\n Leaping from the sofa, Harper rudely snatched the magazine from\n Scribney's hands. He glared at the spread which depicted a star-shaped\n structure of bottle-green glass resting jewel-like on the rufous rock\n of Mars. The main portion of the building consisted of a circular\n skyscraper with a glass-domed roof. Between its star-shaped annexes,\n other domes covered landscaped gardens and noxious pools which in the\n drawing looked lovely and enticing.\n\n\n \"Why, I remember now!\" exclaimed Bella. \"That's where the Durants went\n two years ago! He was about dead and she looked like a hag. They came\n back in wonderful shape. Don't you remember, Scrib?\"\n\n\n Dutifully Scribney remembered and commented on the change the Martian\n springs had effected in the Durants. \"It's the very thing for you,\n Harp,\" he advised. \"You'd get a good rest on the way out. This gas\n they use in the rockets nowadays is as good as a rest-cure; it sort of\n floats you along the time-track in a pleasant daze, they tell me. And\n you can finish the cure at the hotel while looking it over. And not\n only that.\" Confidentially he leaned toward his insignificant looking\n brother-in-law. \"The chemists over at Dade McCann have just isolated an\n enzyme from one species of Martian fungus that breaks down crude oil\n into its components without the need for chemical processing. There's a\n fortune waiting for the man who corners that fungus market and learns\n to process the stuff!\"\n\n\n Scribney had gauged his victim's mental processes accurately. The\n magazine sagged in Harp's hands, and his sharp eyes became shrewd and\n calculating. He even forgot to twitch. \"Maybe you're right, Scrib,\" he\n acknowledged. \"Combine a rest-cure with business, eh?\"\n\n\n Raising the magazine, he began reading the advertisement. And that\n was when he saw the line about the robots. \"—the only hotel staffed\n entirely with robot servants—\"\n\n\n \"Robots!\" he shrilled. \"You mean they've developed the things to that\n point? Why hasn't somebody told me? I'll have Jackson's hide! I'll\n disfranchise him! I'll—\"\n\n\n \"Harp!\" exploded Bella. \"Stop it! Maybe Jackson doesn't know a thing\n about it, whatever it is! If it's something at the Emerald Star Hotel,\n why don't you just go and find out for yourself instead of throwing a\n tantrum? That's the only sensible way!\"\n\n\n \"You're right, Bella,\" agreed Harper incisively. \"I'll go and find out\n for myself. Immediately!\" Scooping up his hat, he left at his usual\n lope.\n\n\n \"Well!\" remarked his sister. \"All I can say is that they'd better turn\n that happy-gas on extra strong for Harp's trip out!\"\nThe trip out did Harper a world of good. Under the influence of the\n soporific gas that permeated the rocket, he really relaxed for the\n first time in years, sinking with the other passengers into a hazy\n lethargy with little sense of passing time and almost no memory of the\n interval.\n\n\n It seemed hardly more than a handful of hours until they were strapping\n themselves into deceleration hammocks for the landing. And then Harper\n was waking with lassitude still heavy in his veins. He struggled out of\n the hammock, made his way to the airlock, and found himself whisked by\n pneumatic tube directly into the lobby of the Emerald Star Hotel.\n\n\n Appreciatively he gazed around at the half-acre of moss-gray carpeting,\n green-tinted by the light sifting through the walls of Martian\n copper-glass, and at the vistas of beautiful domed gardens framed by a\n dozen arches. But most of all, the robots won his delighted approval.\n\n\n He could see at once that they had been developed to an amazingly high\n state of perfection. How, he wondered again, had this been done without\n his knowledge? Was Scrib right? Was he slipping? Gnawing at the doubt,\n he watched the robots moving efficiently about, pushing patients in\n wheelchairs, carrying trays, guiding newcomers, performing janitorial\n duties tirelessly, promptly, and best of all, silently.\n\n\n Harper was enthralled. He'd staff his offices with them. Hang the\n expense! There'd be no more of that obnoxious personal friction and\n proneness to error that was always deviling the most carefully trained\n office staffs! He'd investigate and find out the exact potentialities\n of these robots while here, and then go home and introduce them into\n the field of business. He'd show them whether he was slipping! Briskly\n he went over to the desk.\n\n\n He was immediately confronted with a sample of that human obstinacy\n that was slowly driving him mad. Machines, he sighed to himself.\n Wonderful silent machines! For a woman was arguing stridently with the\n desk clerk who, poor man, was a high strung fellow human instead of a\n robot. Harper watched him shrinking and turning pale lavender in the\n stress of the argument.\n\n\n \"A nurse!\" shouted the woman. \"I want a nurse! A real woman! For what\n you charge, you should be able to give me a television star if I want\n one! I won't have another of those damnable robots in my room, do you\n hear?\"\n\n\n No one within the confines of the huge lobby could have helped hearing.\n The clerk flinched visibly. \"Now, Mrs. Jacobsen,\" he soothed. \"You know\n the hotel is staffed entirely with robots. They're much more expensive,\n really, than human employees, but so much more efficient, you know.\n Admit it, they give excellent service, don't they, now?\" Toothily he\n smiled at the enraged woman.\n\n\n \"That's just it!\" Mrs. Jacobsen glared. \"The service is\ntoo\ngood.\n I might just as well have a set of push buttons in the room. I want\n someone to\nhear\nwhat I say! I want to be able to change my mind once\n in awhile!\"\n\n\n Harper snorted. \"Wants someone she can devil,\" he diagnosed. \"Someone\n she can get a kick out of ordering around.\" With vast contempt he\n stepped to the desk beside her and peremptorily rapped for the clerk.\n\n\n \"One moment, sir,\" begged that harassed individual. \"Just one moment,\n please.\" He turned back to the woman.\n\n\n But she had turned her glare on Harper. \"You could at least be civil\n enough to wait your turn!\"\n\n\n Harper smirked. \"My good woman, I'm not a robot. Robots, of course,\n are always civil. But you should know by now that civility isn't a\n normal human trait.\" Leaving her temporarily quashed, he beckoned\n authoritatively to the clerk.\n\n\n \"I've just arrived and want to get settled. I'm here merely for a\n rest-cure, no treatments. You can assign my quarters before continuing\n your—ah—discussion with the lady.\"\n\n\n The clerk sputtered. Mrs. Jacobsen sputtered. But not for nothing was\n Harper one of the leading business executives of the earth. Harper's\n implacable stare won his point. Wiping beads of moisture from his\n forehead, the clerk fumbled for a card, typed it out, and was about to\n deposit it in the punch box when a fist hit the desk a resounding blow\n and another voice, male, roared out at Harper's elbow.\n\n\n \"This is a helluva joint!\" roared the voice. \"Man could rot away to the\n knees while he's waitin' for accommodations. Service!\" Again his fist\n banged the counter.\n\n\n The clerk jumped. He dropped Harper's card and had to stoop for it.\n Absently holding it, he straightened up to face Mrs. Jacobsen and the\n irate newcomer. Hastily he pushed a tagged key at Harper.\n\n\n \"Here you are, Mr. Breen. I'm sure you'll find it comfortable.\" With a\n pallid smile he pressed a button and consigned Harper to the care of a\n silent and efficient robot.\nThe room was more than comfortable. It was beautiful. Its bank of clear\n windows set in the green glass wall framed startling rubicund views of\n the Martian hinterland where, Harper affectionately thought, fungi were\n busy producing enzymes that were going to be worth millions for him and\n his associates. There remained only the small detail of discovering how\n to extract them economically and to process them on this more than arid\n and almost airless planet. Details for his bright young laboratory men;\n mere details....\n\n\n Leaving his luggage to be unpacked by the robot attendant, he went up\n to the domed roof restaurant. Lunching boldly on broiled halibut with\n consomme, salad and a bland custard, he stared out at the dark blue\n sky of Mars, with Deimos hanging in the east in three-quarter phase\n while Phobos raced up from the west like a meteor behind schedule.\n Leaning back in his cushioned chair, he even more boldly lit a slim\n cigar—his first in months—and inhaled happily. For once old Scribney\n had certainly been right, he reflected. Yes sir, Scrib had rung the\n bell, and he wasn't the man to forget it. With a wonderful sense of\n well-being he returned to his room and prepared to relax.\n\n\n Harper opened his eyes. Two robots were bending over him. He saw that\n they were dressed in white, like hospital attendants. But he had no\n further opportunity to examine them. With brisk, well-co-ordinated\n movements they wheeled a stretcher along-side his couch, stuck a hypo\n into his arm, bundled him onto the stretcher and started wheeling him\n out.\n\n\n Harper's tongue finally functioned. \"What's all this?\" he demanded.\n \"There's nothing wrong with me. Let me go!\"\n\n\n He struggled to rise, but a metal hand pushed him firmly on the chest.\n Inexorably it pushed him flat.\n\n\n \"You've got the wrong room!\" yelled Harp. \"Let me go!\" But the hypo\n began to take effect. His yells became weaker and drowsier. Hazily, as\n he drifted off, he thought of Mrs. Jacobsen. Maybe she had something,\n at that.\nThere was a tentative knock on the door. \"Come in,\" called Harper\n bleakly. As soon as the door opened he regretted his invitation, for\n the opening framed the large untidy man who had noisily pounded on the\n desk demanding service while he, Harp, was being registered.\n\n\n \"Say, pardner,\" he said hoarsely, \"you haven't seen any of them robots\n around here, have you?\"\n\n\n Harper scowled. \"Oh, haven't I?\" he grated. \"Robots! Do you know what\n they did to me.\" Indignation lit fires in his pale eyes. \"Came in here\n while I was lying down peacefully digesting the first meal I've enjoyed\n in months, dragged me off to the surgery, and pumped it all out! The\n only meal I've enjoyed in months!\" Blackly he sank his chin onto his\n fist and contemplated the outrage.\n\n\n \"Why didn't you stop 'em?\" reasonably asked the visitor.\n\n\n \"Stop a robot?\" Harper glared pityingly. \"How? You can't reason with\n the blasted things. And as for using force—it's man against metal. You\n try it!\" He ground his teeth together in futile rage. \"And to think I\n had the insane notion that robots were the last word! Why, I was ready\n to staff my offices with the things!\"\n\n\n The big man placed his large hands on his own capacious stomach and\n groaned. \"I'm sure sorry it was you and not me, pardner. I could use\n some of that treatment right now. Musta been that steak and onions I\n ate after all that tundra dope I've been livin' on.\"\n\n\n \"Tundra?\" A faint spark of alertness lightened Harper's dull rage. \"You\n mean you work out here on the tundra?\"\n\n\n \"That's right. How'd you think I got in such a helluva shape? I'm\n superintendent of one of the fungus plants. I'm Jake Ellis of Hagerty's\n Enzymes. There's good money in it, but man, what a job! No air worth\n mentionin'. Temperature always freezin' or below. Pressure suits. Huts.\n Factory. Processed food. Nothin' else. Just nothin'. That's where they\n could use some robots. It sure ain't no job for a real live man. And in\n fact, there ain't many men left there. If old man Hagerty only knew it,\n he's about out of business.\"\n\n\n Harper sat up as if he'd been needled. He opened his mouth to speak.\n But just then the door opened briskly and two robots entered. With a\n horrified stare, Harper clutched his maltreated stomach. He saw a third\n robot enter, wheeling a chair.\n\n\n \"A wheel chair!\" squeaked the victim. \"I tell you, there's nothing\n wrong with me! Take it away! I'm only here for a rest-cure! Believe me!\n Take it away!\"\n\n\n The robots ignored him. For the first time in his spectacular and\n ruthless career Harper was up against creatures that he could neither\n bribe, persuade nor browbeat, inveigle nor ignore. It shattered his\n ebbing self-confidence. He began waving his hands helplessly.\n\n\n The robots not only ignored Harper. They paid no attention at all to\n Jake Ellis, who was plucking at their metallic arms pleading, \"Take\n me, boys. I need the treatment bad, whatever it is. I need all the\n treatment I can get. Take me! I'm just a wreck, fellers—\"\n\n\n Stolidly they picked Harper up, plunked him into the chair, strapped\n him down and marched out with him.\nDejectedly Ellis returned to his own room. Again he lifted the receiver\n of the room phone; but as usual a robot voice answered sweetly,\n mechanically, and meaninglessly. He hung up and went miserably to bed.\nThere was something nagging at Harper's mind. Something he should do.\n Something that concerned robots. But he was too exhausted to think it\n out.\n\n\n For five days now his pet robots had put him through an ordeal that\n made him flinch every time he thought about it. Which wasn't often,\n since he was almost past thinking. They plunked him into stinking\n mud-baths and held him there until he was well-done to the bone, he\n was sure. They soaked him in foul, steaming irradiated waters until he\n gagged. They brought him weird concoctions to eat and drink and then\n stood over him until he consumed them. They purged and massaged and\n exercised him.\n\n\n Whenever they let him alone, he simply collapsed into bed and slept.\n There was nothing else to do anyway. They'd taken his clothes; and the\n phone, after an announcement that he would have no more service for two\n weeks, gave him nothing but a busy signal.\n\n\n \"Persecution, that's what it is!\" he moaned desperately. And he turned\n his back to the mirror, which showed him that he was beginning to look\n flesh-colored instead of the parchment yellow to which he had become\n accustomed. He closed his mind to the fact that he was sleeping for\n hours on end like the proverbial baby, and that he was getting such an\n appetite that he could almost relish even that detestable mush they\n sent him for breakfast. He was determined to be furious. As soon as he\n could wake up enough to be.\n\n\n He hadn't been awake long this time before Jake Ellis was there again,\n still moaning about his lack of treatments. \"Nothin' yet,\" he gloomily\n informed Harp. \"They haven't been near me. I just can't understand it.\n After I signed up for the works and paid 'em in advance! And I can't\n find any way out of this section. The other two rooms are empty and the\n elevator hasn't got any button. The robots just have to come and get a\n man or he's stuck.\"\n\n\n \"Stuck!\" snarled Harp. \"I'm never stuck! And I'm damned if I'll wait\n any longer to break out of this—this jail! Listen, Jake. I've been\n thinking. Or trying to, with what's left of me. You came in just when\n that assinine clerk was registering me. I'll bet that clerk got rattled\n and gave me the wrong key. I'll bet you're supposed to have this room\n and I'm getting your treatments. Why don't we switch rooms and see what\n happens?\"\n\n\n \"Say, maybe you're right!\" Jake's eyes gleamed at last with hope. \"I'll\n get my clothes.\"\n\n\n Harp's eyebrows rose. \"You mean they left you your clothes?\"\n\n\n \"Why, sure. You mean they took yours?\"\n\n\n Harp nodded. An idea began to formulate. \"Leave your things, will you?\n I'm desperate! I'm going to see the manager of this madhouse if I have\n to go down dressed in a sheet. Your clothes would be better than that.\"\n\n\n Jake, looking over Harper's skimpy frame, grunted doubtfully. \"Maybe\n you could tie 'em on so they wouldn't slip. And roll up the cuffs. It's\n okay with me, but just don't lose something when you're down there in\n that fancy lobby.\"\n\n\n Harper looked at his watch. \"Time to go. Relax, old man. The robots\n will be along any minute now. If you're the only man in the room, I'm\n sure they'll take you. They aren't equipped to figure it out. And don't\n worry about me. I'll anchor your duds all right.\"\n\n\n Harper had guessed right. Gleefully from the doorway of his new room\n he watched the robots wheel away his equally delighted neighbor for\n his first treatment. Then he closed the door and began to don Jake's\n clothing.\n\n\n The result was unique. He looked like a small boy in his father's\n clothes, except for the remarkably aged and gnome-like head sticking\n up on a skinny neck from a collar three sizes too big. And he was\n shoeless. He was completely unable to navigate in Jake's number\n twelves. But Harper was a determined man. He didn't even flinch from\n his image in the mirror. Firmly he stepped over to Jake's telephone.\n \"This is room 618,\" he said authoritatively. \"Send up the elevator for\n me. I want to go down to the lobby.\"\n\n\n He'd guessed right again. \"It will be right up, sir,\" responded the\n robot operator. Hopefully he stepped out into the hall and shuffled to\n the elevator.\nOnly the robots were immune to Harper Breen's progress across the huge\n suave lobby.\n\n\n He was a blot on its rich beauty, a grotesque enigma that rooted the\n other visitors into paralyzed staring groups. Stepping out of the\n elevator, he had laid a course for the desk which loomed like an island\n in a moss-gray lake, and now he strode manfully toward it, ignoring the\n oversize trousers slapping around his stocking feet. Only the robots\n shared his self control.\n\n\n The clerk was the first to recover from the collective stupor.\n Frantically he pushed the button that would summon the robot guard.\n With a gasp of relief he saw the two massive manlike machines moving\n inexorably forward. He pointed to Harper. \"Get that patient!\" he\n ordered. \"Take him to the—to the mud-baths!\"\n\n\n \"No you don't!\" yelled Harper. \"I want to see the manager!\" Nimbly he\n circled the guard and leaped behind the desk. He began to throw things\n at the robots. Things like inkwells and typewriters and card indexes.\n Especially, card indexes.\n\n\n \"Stop it!\" begged the clerk. \"You'll wreck the system! We'll never get\n it straight again! Stop it!\"\n\n\n \"Call them off!\" snarled Harper. \"Call them off or I'll ruin your\n switchboard!\" He put a shoulder against it and prepared to heave.\n\n\n With one last appalled glare at the madman, the clerk picked up an\n electric finger and pointed it at the approaching robots. They became\n oddly inanimate.\n\n\n \"That's better!\" Harper straightened up and meticulously smoothed the\n collar of his flapping coat. \"Now—the manager, please.\"\n\n\n \"This—this way, sir.\" With shrinking steps the clerk led Harper across\n the width of the lobby among the fascinated guests. He was beyond\n speech. Opening the inconspicuous door, he waved Harper inside and\n returned doggedly to his desk, where he began to pick up things and at\n the same time phrase his resignation in his mind.\n\n\n Brushing aside the startled secretary in the outer cubicle, Harper\n flapped and shuffled straight into the inner sanctum. The manager, who\n was busy chewing a cigar to shreds behind his fortress of gun metal\n desk, jerked hastily upright and glared at the intruder. \"My good\n man—\" he began.\n\n\n \"Don't 'my-good-man' me!\" snapped Harper. He glared back at the\n manager. Reaching as far across the expanse of desktop as he could\n stretch, he shook his puny fist. \"Do you know who I am? I'm Harper\n S. Breen, of Breen and Helgart, Incorporated! And do you know why I\n haven't even a card to prove it? Do you know why I have to make my way\n downstairs in garb that makes a laughing stock of me? Do you know why?\n Because that assinine clerk of yours put me in the wrong room and those\n damnable robots of yours then proceeded to make a prisoner of me! Me,\n Harper S. Breen! Why, I'll sue you until you'll be lucky if you have a\n sheet of writing-paper left in this idiot's retreat!\"\n\n\n Hayes, the manager, blanched. Then he began to mottle in an apoplectic\n pattern. And suddenly with a gusty sigh, he collapsed into his chair.\n With a shaking hand he mopped his forehead. \"\nMy\nrobots!\" he muttered.\n \"As if I invented the damned things!\"\n\n\n Despondently he looked at Harper. \"Go ahead and sue, Mr. Breen. If you\n don't, somebody else will. And if nobody sues, we'll go broke anyway,\n at the rate our guest list is declining. I'm ready to hand in my\n resignation.\"\n\n\n Again he sighed. \"The trouble,\" he explained, \"is that those fool\n robots are completely logical, and people aren't. There's no way to mix\n the two. It's dynamite. Maybe people can gradually learn to live with\n robots, but they haven't yet. Only we had to find it out the hard way.\n We—\" he grimaced disgustedly—\"had to pioneer in the use of robots.\n And it cost us so much that we can't afford to reconvert to human help.\n So—Operation Robot is about to bankrupt the syndicate.\"\n\n\n Listening, an amazing calm settled on Harper. Thoughtfully now he\n hooked a chair to the desk with his stockinged foot, sat down and\n reached for the cigar that Hayes automatically offered him. \"Oh, I\n don't know,\" he said mildly.\n\n\n Hayes leaned forward like a drowning man sighting a liferaft. \"What\n do you mean, you don't know? You're threatening to take our shirts,\n aren't you?\"\n\n\n Meticulously Harper clipped and lit his cigar. \"It seems to me that\n these robots might be useful in quite another capacity. I might even\n make a deal with your syndicate to take them off your hands—at a\n reasonable price, of course—and forget the outrages I've suffered at\n your establishment.\"\n\n\n Hayes leaned toward him incredulous. \"You mean you want these robots\n after what you've seen and experienced?\"\n\n\n Placidly Harper puffed a smoke ring. \"Of course, you'd have to take\n into consideration that it would be an experiment for me, too. And\n there's the suit I'm clearly justified in instituting. However, I'm\n willing to discuss the matter with your superiors.\"\n\n\n With hope burgeoning for the first time in weeks, Hayes lifted his\n head. \"My dear Mr. Breen, to get rid of these pestiferous robots, I'll\n back you to the hilt! I'll notify the owners at once. At once, Mr.\n Breen! And while we wait for them, allow me to put you up as a guest of\n the hotel.\" Coming around to Harper, he effusively shook Harp's scrawny\n hand, and then personally escorted him not merely to the door but\n across the lobby to the elevator.\n\n\n Harper gazed out at the stunned audience. This was more like the\n treatment he was accustomed to! Haughtily he squared his bony shoulders\n inside the immense jacket and stepped into the elevator. He was ready\n for the second step of his private Operation Robot.\nBack on Earth it was a warm, misty spring day—the kind of day unknown\n to the planet Mars. Bella and Scribney, superb in new spring outfits,\n waited restlessly while the rocket cooled and the passengers recovered\n from deceleration.\n\n\n \"Look, Scrib!\" Bella clutched Scribney's substantial arm. \"It's finally\n opening.\"\n\n\n They watched the airlock open and the platform wheel into place. They\n watched the passengers descend, looking a trifle dazed.\n\n\n \"There he is!\" cried Bella. \"Why, doesn't he look wonderful! Scrib,\n it's amazing! Look at him!\n\n\n And indeed, Harper was stepping briskly downward, looking spry and fit\n and years younger. He came across to them actually beaming. It was the\n first pleasant expression they had seen on his face in years.\n\n\n \"Well, you old dog!\" exclaimed Scribney affectionately. \"So you did it\n again!\"\n\n\n Harper smirked. \"Yep, I turned a neat little deal. I bought out\n Hagerty's Enzymes and staffed the plant with the hotel's robots. Got\n both of 'em dirt cheap. Both concerns going bankrupt because they\n didn't have sense enough to swap their workers. Feel I owe you a bit\n for that tip about enzymes, Scrib, so I made out a block of stock to\n you. All right?\"\n\n\n \"All right?\" Scribney gulped. Why, the dried-up little turnip was human\n after all. \"All right! Yes, sir! But aren't you going to use some of\n those robots for office help? Aren't they efficient and all that?\"\n\n\n Harper's smile vanished. \"Don't even mention such a thing!\" he yelped.\n \"You don't know what you're saying! I lived with those things for\n weeks. I wouldn't have one around! Keep 'em in the factory where they\n belong!\"\n\n\n He glimpsed the composed, wonderfully human face of his secretary,\n waiting patiently in the background. \"Oh there you are, Smythe.\" He\n turned to his relatives. \"Busy day ahead. See you later, folks—\"\n\n\n \"Same old Harp,\" observed Scribney. Then he thought of the block of\n stock. \"What say we celebrate our rise to a position in the syndicate,\n honey?\"\n\n\n \"Wonderful!\" She squeezed his arm, and smiling at each other, they left\n the port.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was Harper's most likely work with the equatorial wells before they sank?", "question_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D_1", "options": ["Treating Martian liquids for commercial use.", "Bolstering the Martian tourist economy.", "Converting the wells into curative springs.", "Sourcing water on Mars."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Harper change his tone regarding a vacation to Mars?", "question_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D_2", "options": ["He wanted to see the beautiful Emerald Star hotel.", "He was worried about the robots staffing the hotel.", "Bella convinced him he could benefit from some curative rest and relaxation.", "He realized he could profit from a scientific breakthrough."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Harper strongly in favor of automation?", "question_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D_3", "options": ["New technology was a sign of sophistication.", "He appreciated machine silence and accuracy.", "He wanted to do less work and maximize profits.", "It potentially would save him a lot of money."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Harper think of Mrs. Jacobsen when the two robots came to his room?", "question_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D_4", "options": ["One of the robots looked like her.", "He scoffed again at her irritation with the robots. ", "He realized the man standing behind him in line was her husband.", "He was starting to agree that human customer service might be preferable to robots."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0009", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the two robots sedate Harper in his room?", "question_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D_5", "options": ["They were going to put him through an intense fitness, diet, and sleep regimen he had requested.", "They thought he was Jake Ellis.", "They realized he wanted to take advantage of them for his own profit.", "They didn't like him and wanted to scare him."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0032", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the clerk start mentally preparing his resignation?", "question_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D_6", "options": ["He had been hired for another job.", "The robot security guards had lost control.", "He would be blamed for the mess Harper created during his outburst.", "He was tired of working at the hotel."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Hayes want to resign?", "question_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D_7", "options": ["Operation Robot was a failed experiment and had lost too much money.", "He was tired of dealing with unruly guests.", "He felt robots were illogical compared to humans.", "He refused to learn how to live with robots."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Harper satisfy his ambitions and solve Hayes' problems?", "question_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D_8", "options": ["He traded out the factory workers for robots, and the factory workers took over the hotel jobs.", "He fired all of the factory workers and replaced them with robots.", "He purchased a controlling interest in Operation Robot.", "He harvested all the fungal enzymes for his company."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Harper thank Scribney for having \"rung the bell\"?", "question_unique_id": "63616_AZTRNB8D_9", "options": ["He felt he owed him and promised to reward him in the future.", "He hired him to work as superintendent of a factory at Hagerty's Enzymes.", "He gave him a large stock in Hagerty's Enzymes.", "He squeezed his arm and smiled at him - a rarity for a man like Harper."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/1/63616//63616-h//63616-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61467", "set_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS", "batch_num": "11", "writer_id": "1012", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Muck Man", "year": 1958, "author": "Dodge, Fremont", "topic": "Prisoners -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction; Survival -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Metamorphosis -- Fiction", "article": "MUCK MAN\nBY FREMONT DODGE\nThe work wasn't hard, but there were some sacrifices.\n\n You had to give up hope and freedom—and being human!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, November 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nI\n\n\n The girl with the Slider egg glittering in her hair watched the\n bailiff lead Asa Graybar out of the courtroom. He recognized her as\n old Hazeltyne's daughter Harriet, no doubt come to see justice done.\n She didn't have the hothouse-flower look Asa would have expected in a\n girl whose father owned the most valuable of the planetary franchises.\n She was not afraid to meet his eye, the eye of a judicially certified\n criminal. There was, perhaps, a crease of puzzlement in her brow, as if\n she had thought crimes were committed by shriveled, rat-faced types,\n and not by young biological engineers who still affected crewcuts.\n\n\n Tom Dorr, Hazeltyne's general manager, was her escort. Asa felt\n certain, without proof, that Dorr was the man who had framed him for\n the charge of grand theft by secreting a fresh Slider egg in his\n laboratory. The older man stared at Asa coldly as he was led out of\n the courtroom and down the corridor back to jail.\n\n\n Jumpy, Asa's cellmate, took one look at his face as he was put back\n behind bars.\n\n\n \"Guilty,\" Jumpy said.\n\n\n Asa glared at him.\n\n\n \"I know, I know,\" Jumpy said hastily. \"You were framed. But what's the\n rap?\"\n\n\n \"Five or one.\"\n\n\n \"Take the five,\" Jumpy advised. \"Learn basket-weaving in a nice\n air-conditioned rehab clinic. A year on a changeling deal will seem a\n lot longer, even if you're lucky enough to live through it.\"\n\n\n Asa took four steps to the far wall of the cell, stood there briefly\n with his head bent and turned to face Jumpy.\n\n\n \"Nope,\" Asa said softly. \"I'm going into a conversion tank. I'm going\n to be a muck man, Jumpy. I'm going out to Jordan's Planet and hunt\n Slider eggs.\"\n\n\n \"Smuggling? It won't work.\"\n\n\n Asa didn't answer. The Hazeltyne company had gone after him because\n he had been working on a method of keeping Slider eggs alive. The\n Hazeltyne company would be happy to see him mark time for five years\n of so-called social reorientation. But if he could get out to Jordan's\n Planet, with his physiology adapted to the environment of that wretched\n world, he could study the eggs under conditions no laboratory could\n duplicate. He might even be able to cause trouble for Hazeltyne.\n\n\n His only problem would be staying alive for a year.\nAn interview with a doctor from the Conversion Corps was required\n for all persons who elected changeling status. The law stated that\n potential changelings must be fully informed of the rights and hazards\n of altered shape before they signed a release. The requirement held\n whether or not the individual, like Asa, was already experienced.\n\n\n By the time humanity traveled to the stars, medical biology had made\n it possible to regenerate damaged or deficient organs of the body.\n Regeneration was limited only by advanced age. Sometime after a man's\n two hundredth year his body lost the ability to be coaxed into growing\n new cells. A fifth set of teeth was usually one's last. As long as\n senescence could be staved off, however, any man could have bulging\n biceps and a pencil waist, if he could pay for the treatment.\n\n\n Until the medical associations declared such treatments unethical there\n was even a short fad of deliberate deformities, with horns at the\n temples particularly popular.\n\n\n From regeneration it was a short step to specialized regrowth. The\n techniques were perfected to adapt humans to the dozen barely habitable\n worlds man had discovered. Even on Mars, the only planet outside Earth\n in the solar system where the human anatomy was remotely suitable, a\n man could work more efficiently with redesigned lungs and temperature\n controls than he could inside a pressure suit. On more bizarre planets\n a few light-years away the advantages of changeling bodies were\n greater.\n\n\n Unfortunately for planetary development companies, hardly anyone\n wanted to become a changeling. High pay lured few. So a law was passed\n permitting a convicted criminal to earn his freedom by putting in one\n year as a changeling for every five years he would otherwise have had\n to spend in rehabilitation.\n\n\n \"What types of changelings do you have orders for right now, doctor?\"\n Asa asked the man assigned to his case. It would look suspicious if he\n asked for Jordan's Planet without some preliminary questions.\n\n\n \"Four,\" answered the doctor.\n\n\n \"Squiffs for New Arcady. Adapted for climbing the skycraper trees and\n with the arm structure modified into pseudo-wings or gliding. Then we\n need spiderinos for Von Neumann Two. If you want the nearest thing we\n have to Earth, there's Caesar's Moon, where we'd just have to double\n your tolerance for carbon monoxide and make you a bigger and better\n gorilla than the natives. Last, of course, there's always a need for\n muck men on Jordan's Planet.\"\n\n\n The doctor shrugged, as if naturally no one could be expected to\n choose Jordan's Planet. Asa frowned in apparent consideration of the\n alternatives.\n\n\n \"What's the pay range?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Ten dollars a day on Caesar's Moon. Fifteen on New Arcady or Von\n Neumann Two. Twenty-five on Jordan's.\"\n\n\n Asa raised his eyebrows.\n\n\n \"Why such a difference? Everyone knows about muck men living in the\n mud while they hunt Slider eggs. But don't your conversions make the\n changeling comfortable in his new environment?\"\n\n\n \"Sure they do,\" said the doctor. \"We can make you think mud feels\n better than chinchilla fur and we can have you jumping like a\n grasshopper despite the double gravity. But we can't make you like the\n sight of yourself. And we can't guarantee that a Slider won't kill you.\"\n\n\n \"Still,\" Asa mused aloud, \"it would mean a nice bankroll waiting at the\n end of the year.\"\n\n\n He leaned forward to fill in the necessary form.\nSince it was cheaper to transport a normal human than to rig special\n environments in a spaceship, every planet operated its own conversion\n chambers. On the space freighter that carried him from Earth Asa\n Graybar was confined to a small cabin that was opened only for a guard\n to bring meals and take out dirty dishes. He was still a prisoner.\n\n\n Sometimes he could hear voices in the passageway outside, and once\n one of them sounded like a woman's. But since women neither served on\n spaceships nor worked in the dome settlements on harsher worlds, he\n decided it was his imagination. He might have been dead cargo for all\n he learned about space travel.\n\n\n Nevertheless his time was not wasted. He had as a companion, or\n cellmate, another convict who had elected conversion to muck man. More\n important, his companion had done time on Jordan's Planet before and\n had wanted to return.\n\n\n \"It's the Slider eggs,\" explained Kershaw, the two-time loser. \"The\n ones you see on Earth knock your eyes out, but they've already begun\n to die. There's nothing like a fresh one. And I'm not the first to\n go crazy over them. When I was reconverted and got home I had nine\n thousand dollars waiting for me. That'll buy a two-year-old egg that\n flashes maybe four times a day. So I stole a new one and got caught.\"\n\n\n Asa had held a Slider egg in his hand as he gazed into it. He could\n understand. The shell was clear as crystal, taut but elastic, while\n the albumen was just as clear around the sparkling network of organic\n filaments that served as a yolk. Along these interior threads played\n tiny flashes of lightning, part of some unexplained process of life.\n Electrical instruments picked up static discharges from the egg, but\n the phenomenon remained a mystery.\n\n\n Hardly anyone faced with the beauty of a Slider's egg bothered to\n question its workings. For a few expectant moments there would be only\n random, fitful gleamings, and then there would be a wild coruscation of\n light, dancing from one filament to the next in a frenzy of brilliance.\n\n\n It took about four years for a Slider egg to die. Beauty, rarity and\n fading value made the eggs a luxury item like nothing the world had\n ever seen. If Asa had found a means of keeping them alive it would have\n made him wealthy at the expense of the Hazeltyne monopoly.\n\n\n \"You know what I think?\" Kershaw asked. \"I think those flashes are\n the egg calling its momma. They sparkle like a million diamonds when\n you scoop one out of the muck, and right away a Slider always comes\n swooping out of nowhere at you.\"\n\n\n \"I've been meaning to ask you,\" Asa said. \"How do you handle the\n Sliders?\"\n\n\n Kershaw grinned.\n\n\n \"First you try to catch it with a rocket. If you miss you start leaping\n for home. All this time you're broadcasting for help, you understand.\n When the Slider catches you, you leap up while it buries its jaws in\n the mud where you were just standing. You dig your claws in its back\n and hang on while it rolls around in the mud. Finally, if the 'copter\n comes—and if they don't shoot off your head by mistake—you live to\n tell the tale.\"\nII\n\n\n Asa Graybar kept his normal form on Jordan's Planet just long enough to\n learn the discomfort of double gravity. He was told he needed another\n physical examination and was taken right in to a doctor. His heart was\n pounding to keep his blood circulating on this massive world, but the\n doctor had apparently learned to make allowances.\n\n\n \"Swallow this,\" said the doctor after making a series of tests.\n\n\n Asa swallowed the capsule. Two minutes later he felt himself beginning\n to lose consciousness.\n\n\n \"This is it!\" he thought in panic.\n\n\n He felt someone ease him back down onto a wheeled stretcher. Before\n consciousness faded completely he realized that no one got a chance\n to back out of becoming a changeling, that he was on his way to the\n conversion tank right now.\n\n\n When he finally awoke he felt well rested and very comfortable. But for\n a long time he was afraid to open his eyes.\n\n\n \"Come on, Graybar,\" said a deep, booming voice. \"Let's test our wings.\"\n\n\n It was not Kershaw's voice, but it had to be Kershaw. Asa opened his\n eyes.\n\n\n Everyone had seen pictures of muck men. It was different having one\n stand beside you. Kershaw looked much like an enormous frog except that\n his head was still mostly human. He was sitting on webbed feet, his\n lower legs bent double under huge thighs, and his trunk tilted forward\n so that his arms dangled to the ground. The arms were as thick around\n as an ordinary man's legs. The hands had become efficient scoops, with\n broad fingers webbed to the first joint and tipped with spade-like\n claws. The skin was still pinkish but had become scaly. Not a thread of\n hair showed anywhere on the body, not even on the head.\n\n\n This, Asa realized, was what he looked like himself.\n\n\n It would have been more bearable if the head had not retained strong\n traces of humanity. The nostrils flared wide and the jaws hardly\n emerged from the neck, but the ears were human ears and the eyes, under\n those horny ridges, were human eyes. Asa felt sure that the eyes could\n still weep.\n\n\n He started to walk forward and tipped over on his side. Kershaw laughed.\n\n\n \"Come to daddy, babykins,\" Kershaw said, holding out his hands. \"Only\n try hopping this time. And take it easy.\"\n\n\n Asa pushed himself upright with one arm and tried a small hop. Nerve\n and muscle coordination was perfect. He found himself leaping as high\n as Kershaw's head.\n\n\n \"That's the way,\" Kershaw said approvingly. \"Now get this on and we'll\n go outside.\"\n\n\n Asa snapped on a belt and breech cloth combination that had flaps of\n fabric dangling from the belt in front and behind. He followed as\n Kershaw pushed open a sliding door to lead the way out of the room\n where they had been left to revive from conversion.\nThey went into a courtyard partly covered by a roof projecting from\n the Hazeltyne company's dome settlement. The far half of the courtyard\n was open to the gray drizzle that fell almost ceaselessly from the sky\n of Jordan's Planet and turned most of its surface into marsh and mud\n flats. A high wall enclosed the far portion of the courtyard. Ranged\n along the wall were thirty stalls for muck men.\n\n\n From fifty yards across the courtyard a muck man bounded over to them\n in two leaps. Attached to a harness across his shoulders and chest were\n a gun and a long knife.\n\n\n \"Names?\" he growled. He was a foot taller than Graybar and big\n everywhere in proportion.\n\n\n \"Kershaw. I'm back, Furston.\"\n\n\n \"I'm Graybar.\"\n\n\n \"Kershaw again? Just start in where you left off, sucker. Come on,\n you.\" He pointed to Asa and leaped to the open portion of the courtyard.\n\n\n \"Do what he says,\" Kershaw whispered to Graybar. \"He's sort of a trusty\n and warden and parole officer rolled into one.\"\n\n\n Asa was put through a series of exercises to get him used to his\n distorted body, to teach him how to leap and how to dig. He was shown\n how to operate the radio he would carry and how to fire the pencil-slim\n rockets of this gun. Finally he was told to eat a few berries from a\n native vine. He did so and immediately vomited.\n\n\n Furston laughed.\n\n\n \"That's to remind you you're still a man,\" Furston said, grinning.\n \"Everything that grows on this planet is poison. So if you got any\n ideas of hiding out till your term is up, forget 'em. Right here is\n where you eat.\"\n\n\n Asa turned without a word and hopped feebly away from Furston. He\n lifted his head to breathe deeply and saw two humans watching him from\n an observation tower on the roof.\n\n\n He leaped twenty feet into the air for a closer look.\n\n\n Gazing at him with repugnance, after witnessing the end of his session\n with Furston, were Harriet Hazeltyne and general manager Tom Dorr.\n\n\n The girl's presence merely puzzled Asa, but Dorr's being here worried\n him. Dorr had tried to get rid of him once and was now in an excellent\n position to make the riddance permanent.\n\n\n At supper that night, squatting on the ground beside a low table with\n the dozen other muck men operating from the dome, Asa asked what the\n two were doing out here.\n\n\n \"The girl will inherit this racket some day, won't she?\" asked one of\n the others. \"She wants to see what kind of suckers are making her rich.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe that guy Dorr brought her along to show her what a big wheel\n he is,\" said one of the others. \"Just hope he doesn't take over the\n operations.\"\nIII\n\n\n Next morning Furston passed out guns, knives, radios, and pouches to\n carry any eggs the muck men found. He gave each man a compass and\n assigned the sectors to be worked during the day. Finally he called\n Graybar aside.\n\n\n \"In case you don't like it here,\" Furston said, \"you can get a week\n knocked off your sentence for every egg you bring in. Now get out there\n and work that muck.\"\n\n\n Furston sent Graybar and Kershaw out together so that the veteran could\n show Asa the ropes. Asa had already learned that the wall around the\n courtyard was to keep Sliders out, not muck men in. He leaped over it\n and hopped along after Kershaw.\n\n\n Feet slapping against the mud, they went about five miles from the\n Hazeltyne station, swimming easily across ponds too broad to jump. The\n mud, if not precisely as pleasant to the touch as chinchilla fur, was\n not at all uncomfortable, and the dripping air caressed their skins\n like a summer breeze back on Earth. Tiny, slippery creatures skidded\n and splashed out of their way. Finally Kershaw stopped. His experienced\n eye had seen a trail of swamp weeds crushed low into the mud.\n\n\n \"Keep your eyes open,\" Kershaw said. \"There's a Slider been around here\n lately. If you see something like an express train headed our way,\n start shooting.\"\n\n\n At each leap along the trail they peered quickly around. They saw no\n Sliders, but this meant little, for the beasts lived under the mud as\n much as on top of it.\n\n\n Kershaw halted again when they came to a roughly circular area some ten\n yards in diameter where the weeds had been torn out and lay rotting in\n the muck.\n\n\n \"We're in luck,\" he said as Asa skidded to a stop at his side. \"An egg\n was laid somewhere here within the last week. These places are hard to\n spot when the new weeds start growing.\"\n\n\n Kershaw took a long look around.\n\n\n \"No trouble in sight. We dig.\"\n\n\n They started at the center of the cleared area, shoveling up great gobs\n of mud with their hands and flinging them out of the clearing. Usually\n a muck man dug in a spiral out from the center, but Graybar and Kershaw\n dug in gradually widening semi-circles opposite each other. They had\n to dig four feet deep, and it was slow going until they had a pit\n big enough to stand in. Each handful of mud had to be squeezed gently\n before it was thrown away, to make sure it didn't conceal an egg. As he\n worked, Asa kept thinking what an inefficient system it was. Everything\n about the operation was wrong.\n\n\n \"Got it!\" Kershaw shouted. He leaped out of the pit and started wiping\n slime off a round object the size of a baseball. Asa jumped out to\n watch.\n\n\n \"A big one,\" Kershaw said. He held it, still smeared with traces of\n mud, lovingly to his cheek, and then lifted it to eye level. \"Just look\n at it.\"\nA SLIDER EGG\nThe egg was flashing with a mad radiance, like a thousand diamonds\n being splintered under a brilliant sun. Static crackled in Asa's\n earphones and he thought of what Kershaw had said, that the\n scintillation of an egg was an effect of its calls to a mother Slider\n for help. Asa looked around.\n\n\n \"Jump!\" he shouted.\n\n\n At the edge of the clearing a segmented length of greenish black\n scales, some two feet thick and six feet high, had reared up out of the\n weeds. The top segment was almost all mouth, already opened to show row\n upon row of teeth. Before Asa could draw his gun the Slider lowered\n its head to the ground, dug two front flippers into the mud and shot\n forward.\n\n\n Asa leaped with all his strength, sailing far out of the clearing.\n While he was still in the air he snapped the mouthpiece of his radio\n down from where it was hinged over his head. As he landed he turned\n instantly, his gun in his hand.\n\n\n \"Calling the 'copter!\" he spoke rapidly into the mouthpiece. \"Kershaw\n and Graybar, sector eight, five miles out. Hurry!\"\n\n\n \"Graybar?\" asked a voice in his earphone. \"What's up?\"\n\n\n \"We've got an egg but a Slider wants it back.\"\n\n\n \"On the way.\"\n\n\n Asa hopped back to the clearing. Kershaw must have been bowled over by\n the Slider's first rush, for he was trying to hop on one leg as if the\n other had been broken. The egg lay flickering on top of the mud where\n Kershaw had dropped it. The Slider, eight flippers on each side working\n madly, was twisting its thirty feet of wormlike body around for another\n charge.\n\n\n Aiming hastily, Asa fired a rocket at the monster's middle segment. The\n rocket smashed through hard scales and exploded in a fountain of gray\n flesh. The Slider writhed, coating its wound in mud, and twisted toward\n Asa. He leaped to one side, firing from the air and missing, and saw\n the Slider turn toward the patch of weeds where he would land. His legs\n were tensed to leap again the moment he hit the mud, but he saw the\n Slider would be on top of him before he could escape. As he landed he\n thrust his gun forward almost into the mouth of the creature and fired\n again.\nEven as he was knocked aside into the muck, Asa's body was showered\n with shreds of alien flesh scattered by the rocket's explosion.\n Desperately pushing himself to his feet, he saw the long headless body\n shiver and lie still.\nAsa took a deep breath and looked around.\n\n\n \"Kershaw!\" he called. \"Where are you?\"\n\n\n \"Over here.\" Kershaw stood briefly above the weeds and fell back again.\n Asa leaped over to him.\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" Kershaw said. \"Muck men stick together. You'll make a good\n one. I wouldn't have had a chance. My leg's busted.\"\n\n\n \"The helicopter ought to be here pretty soon,\" Asa said. He looked over\n at the dead Slider and shook his head. \"Tell me, what are the odds on\n getting killed doing this?\"\n\n\n \"Last time I was here there was about one mucker killed for every six\n eggs brought out. Of course you're not supposed to stand there admiring\n the eggs like I did while a Slider comes up on you.\"\n\n\n Asa hopped over to the egg, which was still full of a dancing radiance\n where it rested on the mud. He scooped a hole in the muck and buried\n the egg.\n\n\n \"Just in case there are any more Sliders around,\" he explained.\n\n\n \"Makes no difference,\" said Kershaw, pointing upward. \"Here comes the\n 'copter, late as usual.\"\n\n\n The big machine circled them, hovered to inspect the dead Slider, and\n settled down on broad skids. Through the transparent nose Asa could see\n Tom Dorr and Harriet Hazeltyne. The company manager swung the door open\n and leaned out.\n\n\n \"I see you took care of the Slider,\" he said. \"Hand over the egg.\"\n\n\n \"Kershaw has a broken leg,\" Asa said. \"I'll help him in and then I'll\n get the egg.\"\n\n\n While Kershaw grabbed the door frame to help pull himself into the\n helicopter, Asa got under his companion's belly and lifted him by the\n waist. He hadn't realized before just how strong his new body was.\n Kershaw, as a muck man, would have weighed close to three hundred\n pounds on Earth, close to six hundred here.\n\n\n Dorr made no move to help, but the girl reached under Kershaw's\n shoulder and strained to get him in. Once he was inside, Asa saw, the\n cabin was crowded.\n\n\n \"Are you going to have room for me too?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Not this trip,\" Dorr answered. \"Now give me the egg.\"\n\n\n Asa didn't hesitate. \"The egg stays with me,\" he said softly.\n\n\n \"You do what I tell you, mucker,\" said Dorr.\n\n\n \"Nope. I want to make sure you come back.\" Asa turned his head to\n Harriet. \"You see, Miss Hazeltyne, I don't trust your friend. You might\n ask him to tell you about it.\"\n\n\n Dorr stared at him with narrowed eyes. Suddenly he smiled in a way that\n worried Asa.\n\n\n \"Whatever you say, Graybar,\" Dorr said. He turned to the controls. In\n another minute the helicopter was in the sky.\nA round trip for the helicopter should have taken no more than twenty\n minutes, allowing time for Kershaw to be taken out at the settlement.\n\n\n After an hour passed Asa began to worry. He was sure Dorr would return\n for the egg. Finally he realized that Dorr could locate the egg\n approximately by the body of the dead Slider. Dorr could return for the\n egg any time with some other muck man to dig for it.\n\n\n Asa pulled down the mouthpiece of his radio.\n\n\n \"This is Graybar, calling the helicopter,\" he said. \"When are you\n coming?\"\n\n\n There was no answer except the hum of carrier wave.\n\n\n If he tried to carry the egg back, Asa knew, Sliders would attack him\n all along the way. A man had no chance of getting five miles with an\n egg by himself. He could leave the egg here, of course. Even so he\n would be lucky if he got back, following a hazy compass course from\n which he and Kershaw had certainly deviated on their outward trip.\n There were no landmarks in this wilderness of bog to help him find his\n way. The workers were supposed to home in on radio signals, if they\n lost their bearings, but Dorr would deny him that help.\n\n\n What was the night like on Jordan's Planet? Maybe Sliders slept at\n night. If he could stay awake, and if he didn't faint from hunger in\n this strange new body, and if the Sliders left him alone....\n\n\n A whirring noise made Asa jump in alarm.\n\n\n Then he smiled in relief, for it was the helicopter, the blessed\n helicopter, coming in over the swamp. But what if it was Dorr, coming\n back alone to dispose of him without any witnesses? Asa leaped for the\n carcass of the dead Slider and took shelter behind it.\n\n\n No machine-gun blast of rockets came from the helicopter. The big\n machine swooped low dizzily, tilted back in an inexpert attempt to\n hover, thumped down upon the mud and slid forward. As Asa jumped aside,\n the landing skids caught against the Slider's body and the helicopter\n flipped forward on its nose, one of the rotor blades plunging deep into\n the mud.\n\n\n Asa leaped forward in consternation. Not only was his chance of safe\n passage back to the settlement wrecked, but now he would have the\n extra burden of taking care of the pilot. When he reached the nose\n of the helicopter he saw that the pilot, untangling herself from the\n controls to get up, was Harriet Hazeltyne.\nIV\n\n\n \"Are you hurt?\" Asa asked her. She reached for his shoulder to steady\n herself as she climbed out of the machine.\n\n\n \"I guess not,\" she said. \"But taking a fall in this gravity is no fun.\n From the way my face feels I ought to be getting a black eye pretty\n soon.\"\n\n\n \"What happened?\"\n\n\n \"I made a fool of myself.\" She made a face back in the direction of\n the settlement. \"Dorr wasn't going to come after you. He said anyone\n who talked back to him should try arguing with the Sliders.\"\n\n\n She looked up at the machine-gun on the helicopter.\n\n\n \"They feed at night, you know. And they eat their own kind,\" she said.\n \"The Slider you killed would draw them like ants to jam.\"\n\n\n Asa glanced around quickly to make sure no Sliders had already come. He\n eyed the helicopter with distaste at the thought of what a flimsy fort\n it would make.\n\n\n \"Anyway,\" Harriet said, \"I told him he couldn't just leave you here\n and we started arguing. I lost my temper. He thought he had brought me\n to Jordan's Planet on a fancy tour. I told him the real reason I was\n here was to check up for my father on the way he was running things and\n there seemed to be a lot wrong. So he told me very politely I could run\n things to suit myself and he walked off.\"\n\n\n She shrugged, as if to indicate that she had made a mess of things.\n\n\n \"And you took the helicopter by yourself,\" Asa said, as if he could\n hardly believe it yet.\n\n\n \"Oh, back on Earth I can make a helicopter do stunts. But I wasn't used\n to this gravity. I don't suppose you could make this machine stand up\n straight?\"\n\n\n Asa tugged at the body of the Slider until he got it off the skids of\n the plane. He pulled with all his strength at the rotor blade sunk in\n the mud, but the weight of the helicopter was upon it and the mud held\n it with a suction of its own. After a few minutes he had to give up.\n\n\n \"We fight off the Sliders, then,\" she said, as matter of factly as if\n that problem was settled. \"If it's any comfort, I know how to handle\n the machine-gun.\"\n\n\n \"Nope. In this drizzle, at night, the Sliders would be on us before\n we could see them. We've got to try to get back.\" He stood in thought\n while she stared at him patiently. \"What happened to the other muck men\n who went out today?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"They were called in when the 'copter came out the first time. Some of\n them may not have got back yet.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What seems to be the primary benefit of becoming a changeling?", "question_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS_1", "options": ["Efficient labor and reduced prison sentences.", "Regeneration of bodily organs.", "Extended life expectancy.", "Developing superhuman powers."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Asa's true motivation for choosing Jordan's Planet?", "question_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS_2", "options": ["Studying Slider eggs in their natural habitat.", "He wanted to serve a reduced sentence.", "The conversions made mud-dwelling more comfortable.", "The bankroll was far greater than on other planets."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What happens to a changeling after their sentence is served?", "question_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS_3", "options": ["They continue to hunt Slider eggs for the Hazeltynes.", "They are converted back to their normal body and returned to Earth.", "They maintain their conversion as a permanent reminder of their crimes.", "They can choose to stay on their new planet or return to Earth."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0030", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why would Tom Dorr frame Asa Graybar for stealing the Slider egg?", "question_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS_4", "options": ["Graybar's discoveries could ruin the Hazeltyne business.", "He was protecting himself from being a potential suspect in the theft.", "He was protecting Harriet from incrimination.", "He was getting paid a small fortune to do so."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0019", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Furston instruct Graybar to eat berries?", "question_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS_5", "options": ["To help him acclimate to his new changeling diet.", "To demonstrate the impossibility of escaping imprisonment and seeking refuge on Jordan's Planet.", "To help him develop an immunity to toxic plant life.", "So that he would have enough energy to hunt Slider eggs."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Harriet crash the helicopter?", "question_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS_6", "options": ["She thought the dead Slider was alive and tried to kill it.", "The gravity on Jordan's Planet was different from that on Earth.", "She was using it as a projectile to kill Graybar.", "She didn't know how to fly one."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The changelings on Jordan's Planet most closely resembled what Earth-dwelling creature?", "question_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS_7", "options": ["A frog.", "A salamander.", "A worm.", "A gorilla."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0013", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What unique physical features do Sliders have flanking their bodies?", "question_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS_8", "options": ["Massive jaws for consuming prey.", "A wormlike torso for smooth navigation.", "Sixteen flippers for gripping mud.", "Greenish black scales for camouflage."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Dorr most likely leave Graybar to fend for himself on Jordan's Planet after the Slider attack?", "question_unique_id": "61467_S2P1EICS_9", "options": ["He wanted to neutralize the threat Graybar posed to his personal ambitions.", "He was jealous of Harriet's affection for Graybar.", "He was afraid of facing additional Slider attacks.", "He knew where the egg was, so it didn't matter if Graybar was alive or not."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/6/61467//61467-h//61467-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "60412", "set_unique_id": "60412_XM0T4STT", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Rx", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "Physicians -- Fiction; Medical fiction; Short stories; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; PS; Science fiction", "article": "R\n X\nBY ALAN E. NOURSE\nThe tenth son of a tenth son was very\n \nsick, but it was written that he would\n \nnever die. Of course, it was up to the\n \nEarth doctor to see that he didn't!\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThey didn't realize they were in trouble until it was too late to stop\n it. The call from Morua II came in quite innocently, relayed to the\n ship from HQ in Standard GPP Contract code for crash priority, which\n meant Top Grade Planetary Emergency, and don't argue about it, fellows,\n just get there, fast. Red Doctor Sam Jenkins took one look at the\n flashing blinker and slammed the controls into automatic; gyros hummed,\n bearings were computed and checked, and the General Practice Patrol\n ship\nLancet\nspun in its tracks, so to speak, and began homing on the\n call-source like a hound on a fox. The fact that Morua II was a Class\n VI planet didn't quite register with anybody, just then.\n\n\n Ten minutes later the Red Doctor reached for the results of the Initial\n Information Survey on Morua II, and let out a howl of alarm. A single\n card sat in the slot with a wide black stripe across it.\n\n\n Jenkins snapped on the intercom. \"Wally,\" he yelped. \"Better get up\n here fast.\"\n\n\n \"Trouble?\" said the squawk-box, sleepily.\n\n\n \"Oh, brother,\" said Jenkins. \"Somebody's cracked the Contract Code or\n something.\"\n\n\n A moment later a tall sleepy man in green undershorts appeared at\n the control room, rubbing his eyes. \"What happened?\" he said. \"We've\n changed course.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah. Ever hear of Morua II?\"\n\n\n Green Doctor Wally Stone frowned and scratched his whiskered chin.\n \"Sounds familiar, but I can't quite tune in. Crash call?\" His eye\n caught the black-striped card. \"Class VI planet ... a plague spot! How\n can we get a crash-call from\nthis\n?\"\n\n\n \"You tell me,\" said Jenkins.\n\n\n \"Wait a minute. Seems to me there was some sort of nasty business—\"\n\n\n Jenkins nodded heavily. \"There sure was. Five successive attempts\n to establish a Contract with them, and five times we got thrown out\n bodily. The last time an Earth ship landed there half the crew was\n summarily shot and the others came home with their ears cut off. Seems\n the folks on Morua II didn't want a Contract with Hospital Earth. And\n they're still in the jungle, as far as their medicine goes. Witch\n doctors and spells.\" He tossed the Info-card down the chute with a\n growl. \"So now we have an emergency call from them in a Contract code\n they couldn't possibly know.\"\n\n\n The surgeon in the green undershorts chewed his lip. \"Looks like\n somebody in that last crew spilled the beans before they shot him.\"\n\n\n \"Obviously.\"\n\n\n \"Well, what are we doing on automatics? We're not\ngoing\nthere, are\n we?\"\n\n\n \"What else? You know the law. Instantaneous response to any\n crash-priority call, regardless of circumstances—\"\n\n\n \"Law be damned,\" Stone cried. \"File a protest with HQ. Cancel the\n course bearings and thumb our noses at them!\"\n\n\n \"And spend the next twenty years scrubbing test tubes.\" Jenkins shook\n his head. \"Sorry, it took me too long to get aboard one of these tubs.\n We don't do that in the General Practice Patrol, remember? I don't know\n how Morua II got the code, but they got it, and that's all the farther\n we're supposed to think. We answer the call, and beef about it later.\n If we still happen to be around later, that is.\"\nIt had always been that way. Since the first formal Medical Service\n Contract had been signed with Deneb III centuries before, Hospital\n Earth had laboriously built its reputation on that single foundation\n stone: immediate medical assistance, without question or hesitation,\n whenever and wherever it was required, on any planet bound by Contract.\n That was the law, for Hospital Earth could not afford to jeopardize a\n Contract.\n\n\n In the early days of galactic exploration, of course, Medical Services\n was only a minor factor in an expanding commercial network that drew\n multitudes of planets into social and economic interdependence; but\n in any growing civilization division of labor inevitably occurs.\n Other planets outstripped Earth in technology, in communications, in\n transport, and in production techniques—but Earth stood unrivaled in\n its development of the biological sciences. Wherever an Earth ship\n landed, the crew was soon rendering Medical Services of one sort or\n another, whether they had planned it that way or not. On Deneb III\n the Medical Service Contract was formalized, and Hospital Earth came\n into being. Into all known corners of the galaxy ships of the General\n Practice Patrol were dispatched—\"Galactic Pill Peddlers\" forging a\n chain of Contracts from Aldebaran to Zarn, accepting calls, diagnosing\n ills, arranging for proper disposition of whatever medical problems\n they came across. Serious problems were shuttled back to Hospital Earth\n without delay; more frequently the GPP crews—doctors of the Red and\n Green services, representing the ancient Earthly arts of medicine and\n surgery—were able to handle the problems on the spot and by themselves.\n\n\n It was a rugged service for a single planet to provide, and it was\n costly. Many planets studied the terms of Contract and declined,\n pleasantly but firmly—and were assured nevertheless that GPP ships\n would answer an emergency call if one was received. There would be a\n fee, of course, but the call would be answered. And then there were\n other planets—places such as Morua II....\n\n\n The\nLancet\nhomed on the dismal grey planet with an escort of eight\n ugly fighter ships which had swarmed up like hornets to greet her. They\n triangled her in, grappled her, and dropped her with a bone-jarring\n crash into a landing slot on the edge of the city. As Sam Jenkins and\n Wally Stone picked themselves off the bulkheads, trying to rearrange\n the scarlet and green uniforms of their respective services, the main\n entrance lock burst open with a squeal of tortured metal. At least a\n dozen Moruans poured into the control room—huge bearlike creatures\n with heavy grey fur ruffing out around their faces like thick hairy\n dog collars. The one in command strode forward arrogantly, one huge\n paw leveling a placer-gun with a distinct air of business about it.\n \"Well, you took long enough!\" he roared, baring a set of yellow fangs\n that sent shivers up Jenkins' spine. \"Fourteen hours! Do you call that\n speed?\"\n\n\n Jenkins twisted down the volume on his Translator with a grimace.\n \"You're lucky we came at all,\" he said peevishly. \"Where's your\n Contract? Where did you get the Code?\"\n\n\n \"Bother the Contract,\" the Moruan snarled. \"You're supposed to be\n physicians, eh?\" He eyed them up and down as though he disapproved of\n everything that he saw. \"You make sick people well?\"\n\n\n \"That's the general idea.\"\n\n\n \"All right.\" He poked a hairy finger at a shuttle car perched outside.\n \"In there.\"\n\n\n They were herded into the car with three guards in front and three\n behind. A tunnel gulped them into darkness as the car careened madly\n into the city. For an endless period they pitched and churned through\n blackness—then suddenly emerged into a high, gilded hall with pale\n sunlight filtering down. From the number of decorated guards, and\n the scraping and groveling that went on as they were hurried through\n embattled corridors, it seemed likely they were nearing the seat of\n government. Finally a pair of steel doors opened to admit them to\n a long, arched hallway. Their leader, who was called Aguar by his\n flunkies, halted them with a snarl and walked across to the tall figure\n guarding the far door. The guard did not seem pleased; he wore a long\n purple cap with a gold ball on the end which twitched wildly as their\n whispered conference devolved into growling and snarling. Finally\n Aguar motioned them to follow, and they entered the far chamber, with\n Purple-Hat glaring at them malignantly as they passed.\n\n\n Aguar halted them at the door-way. \"His Eminence will see you,\" he\n growled.\n\n\n \"Who is His Eminence?\" Jenkins asked.\n\n\n \"The Lord High Emperor of All Morua and Creator of the Galaxies,\" Aguar\n rumbled. \"He is the Tenth Son of a Tenth Son, and it is written that he\n can never die. When you enter, bow,\" he added.\n\n\n The Tenth Son of a Tenth Son couldn't have cared less whether they\n bowed or not. The room was dark and rank with the smell of sickness. On\n a pallet in the center lay a huge Moruan, panting and groaning. He was\n wrapped like a mummy in bedclothes of scarlet interwoven with gold; on\n either side of the bed braziers flickered with sickly greenish light.\n\n\n His Eminence looked up at them from bloodshot eyes and greeted them\n with a groan of anguish that seemed to roll up from the soles of his\n feet. \"Go away,\" he moaned, closing his eyes again and rolling over\n with his back toward them.\n\n\n The Red Doctor blinked at his companion, then turned to Aguar. \"What\n illness is this?\" he whispered.\n\n\n \"He is afflicted with a Pox, as any fool can see. All others it\n kills—but His Eminence is the Tenth Son of a Tenth Son, and it is\n written—\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, I know. He can never die.\" Sam gave Wally a sour look. \"What\n happens, though, if he just up and does?\"\n\n\n Aguar's paw came down with a clatter on the hilt of his sword. \"\nHe\n does not die.\nWe have you here now. You are doctors, you say. Cure\n him.\"\n\n\n They walked to the bedside and lifted back the covers. Jenkins took a\n limp paw in his hand. He finally found a palpable pulse just below the\n second elbow joint. It was fast and thready. The creature's skin bagged\n loosely from his arm.\n\"Looks like His Eminence can't read,\" Wally muttered. \"He's going fast,\n Doc.\"\n\n\n Jenkins nodded grimly. \"What does it look like to you?\"\n\n\n \"How should I know? I've never seen a healthy Moruan before, to say\n nothing of a sick one. It looks like a pox all right.\"\n\n\n \"Probably a viremia of some sort.\" Jenkins went over the great groaning\n hulk with inquiring fingers.\n\n\n \"If it's a viremia, we're cooked,\" Stone whispered. \"None of the drugs\n cross over—and we won't have time to culture the stuff and grow any\n new ones—\"\n\n\n Jenkins turned to Aguar. \"How long has this gone on?\"\n\n\n \"For days,\" the Moruan growled. \"He can't speak. He grows hot and\n cannot eat. He moans until the Palace trembles.\"\n\n\n \"What about your own doctors?\"\n\n\n Aguar spat angrily on the floor. \"They are jealous as cats until\n trouble comes. Then they hide in the caves like chickens. See the\n green flames? Death flames. They leave him here to die. But now that\n is all over. We have heard about you wizards from Hospital Earth. You\n cure all, the stories say. You are very wise, they say. You balance\n the humors and drive forth the spirits of the Pox like devils.\" He\n gave them a terrible grin and tightened his hand on the gold-encrusted\n sword. \"Now we see.\"\n\n\n \"We can't promise,\" Jenkins began. \"Sometimes we're called too\n late—but perhaps not in this case,\" he added hastily when he saw the\n Moruan's face. \"Tenth Son and all that. But you'll have to give us\n freedom to work.\"\n\n\n \"What kind of freedom?\"\n\n\n \"We'll need supplies and information from our ship. We'll have to\n consult your physicians. We'll need healthy Moruans to examine—\"\n\n\n \"But you will cure him,\" Aguar said.\n\n\n Jenkins took a deep breath and gripped his red tunic around his throat\n tightly. \"Sure, sure,\" he said weakly. \"You just watch us.\"\n\"But what do you think we're going to do?\" the surgeon wailed, back\n in the control room of the\nLancet\n. \"Sam, we can't\ntouch\nhim. If\n he didn't die naturally we'd kill him for sure! We can't go near him\n without a Bio-survey—look what happened on Baron when they tried it!\n Half the planetary population wiped out before they realized that the\n antibiotic was more deadly to the race than the virus was....\"\n\n\n \"Might not be such a bad idea for Morua,\" the Red Doctor muttered\n grimly. \"Well, what did you expect me to do—politely refuse? And\n have our throats slit right on the spot?\" He grabbed a pad and began\n scribbling. \"We've got to do\nsomething\njust to keep alive for a\n while.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah,\" said Wally. \"What, for instance?\"\n\n\n \"Well, we've got a little to go on just from looking at them. They're\n oxygen-breathers, which means they manage internal combustion of\n carbohydrates, somehow. From the grey skin color I'd guess at a cuprous\n or stannous heme-protein carrying system. They're carnivores, but god\n knows what their protein metabolism is like—Let's get going on some of\n these specimens Aguar has rounded up for us.\"\n\n\n They dug in frantically. Under normal conditions a GPP ship would\n send in a full crew of technicians to a newly-Contracted planet to\n make the initial Bio-survey of the indigenous races. Bio-chemists,\n physiologists, anatomists, microbiologists, radiologists—survey\n workers from every Service would examine and study the new clients,\n take them apart cell by cell to see what made them tick.\n\n\n Certain basic principles were always the same, a fact which accelerated\n the program considerably. Humanoid or not, all forms of life had basic\n qualities in common. Biochemical reactions were biochemical reactions,\n whether they happened to occur in a wing-creature of Wolf IV or a\n doctor from Sol III. Anatomy was a broad determinant: a jelly-blob from\n Deneb I with its fine skein of pulsating nerve fibrils was still just\n a jelly-blob, and would never rise above the level of amoeboid yes-no\n response because of its utter lack of organization. But a creature\n with an organized central nervous system and a functional division of\n work among organ systems could be categorized, tested, studied, and\n compared, and the information used in combating native disease. Given\n no major setbacks, and full cooperation of the natives, the job only\n took about six months to do—\n\n\n For the crew of the\nLancet\nsix hours was seven hours too long. They\n herded cringing Moruan \"volunteers\" into the little ship's lab. Jenkins\n handled external examinations and blood and tissue chemistries; Stone\n ran the X-ray and pan-endoscopic examinations. After four grueling\n hours the Red Doctor groaned and scowled at the growing pile of data.\n \"Okay. It seems that they're vaguely humanoid. And that's about all we\n can say for sure. I think we're wasting time. What say we tackle the\n Wizards for a while?\"\n\n\n Aguar's guards urged the tall Moruan with the purple cap into the\n control room at gunpoint, along with a couple of minor medical\n potentates. Purple-hat's name was Kiz, and it seemed that he wasn't\n having any that day.\n\n\n \"Look,\" said Jenkins intensely. \"You've seen this illness before. We\n haven't. So you can at least get us started. What kind of course does\n it run?\"\n\n\n Silence.\n\n\n \"All right then, what causes it? Do you know? Bacteria? Virus?\n Degeneration?\"\n\n\n Silence.\n\n\n Jenkins' face was pale. \"Look, boys—your Boss out there is going to\n cool before long if something doesn't happen fast—\" His eyes narrowed\n on Kiz. \"Of course, that might be right up your alley—how about that?\n His Eminence bows out, somebody has to bow in, right? Maybe you, huh?\"\n\n\n Kiz began sputtering indignantly; the Red Doctor cut him off. \"It\n adds up,\" he said heatedly. \"You've got the power, you've got your\n magic and all. Maybe you were the boys that turned thumbs down so\n violently on the idea of a Hospital Earth Contract, eh? Couldn't risk\n having outsiders cutting in on your trade.\" Jenkins rubbed his chin\n thoughtfully. \"But somehow it seems to me you'd have a whale of a lot\n more power if you learned how to control this Pox.\"\n\n\n Kiz stopped sputtering quite abruptly. He blinked at his confederates\n for a long moment. Then: \"You're an idiot. It can't be done.\"\n\n\n \"Suppose it could.\"\n\n\n \"The Spirit of the Pox is too strong. Our most powerful spells make him\n laugh. He eats our powders and drinks our potions. Even the Iron Circle\n won't drive him out.\"\n\n\n \"Won't it, now! Well, we have iron\nneedles\nand potions that eat the\n bottoms out of their jars. Suppose\nthey\ndrive him out?\"\n\n\n The Moruan was visibly shaken. He held a whispered conference with his\n henchmen. \"You'll\nshow\nus these things?\" he asked suspiciously.\n\n\n \"I'll make a bargain,\" said Jenkins. \"You give us a Contract, we give\n you the power—fair enough?\"\n\n\n More whispers. Wally Stone tugged at Sam's sleeve. \"What do you think\n you're doing?\" he choked. \"These boys will cut your throat quicker than\n Aguar will—\"\n\n\n \"Maybe not,\" said Sam. \"Look, I've got an idea—risky, but it might\n work if you'll play along. We can't lose much.\"\n\n\n The whispers stopped and Kiz nodded to the Red Doctor. \"All right, we\n bargain,\" he said. \"\nAfter\nyou show us.\"\n\n\n \"Now or never.\" Jenkins threw open the door and nodded to the guards.\n \"I'll be in the sickroom in a very short while. If you're with me, I'll\n see you there. If not—\" He fingered his throat suggestively.\n\n\n As soon as they had gone Jenkins dived into the storeroom and began\n throwing flasks and bottles into a black bag. Wally Stone watched him\n in bewilderment. \"You're going to kill him,\" he moaned. \"Prayers,\n promises, pills and post-mortems. That's the Medical service for you.\"\n\n\n Sam grinned. \"Maybe you should operate on him.\nThat\nwould open their\n eyes all right.\"\n\n\n \"No thanks, not me. This is a medical case and it's all yours. What do\n you want me to do?\"\n\n\n \"Stay here and try your damnedest to get through to HQ,\" said Sam\n grimly. \"Tell them to send an armada, because we're liable to need one\n in the next few hours—\"\nIf the Tenth Son of a Tenth Son had looked bad before, three hours had\n witnessed no improvement. The potentate's skin had turned from grey\n to a pasty green as he lay panting on the bed. He seemed to have lost\n strength enough even to groan, and his eyes were glazed.\n\n\n Outside the royal chambers Jenkins found a group of green-clad\n mourners, wailing like banshees and tearing out their fur in great grey\n chunks. They stood about a flaming brazier; as Jenkins entered the\n sickroom the wails rose ten decibels and took on a howling-dog quality.\n\n\n Aguar met him at the door. \"He's dying,\" he roared angrily. \"Why don't\n you do something? Every hour he sinks more rapidly, and all you do is\n poke holes in the healthy ones! And then you send in\nthis\nbag of\n bones again—\" He glowered at the tall purple-capped figure bending\n over the bed.\n\n\n Jenkins looked sharply at Kiz, and the wizard nodded his head slowly.\n \"Try being quiet for a while,\" Jenkins said to Aguar. \"We're going to\n cure the Boss here.\" Solemnly he slipped off his scarlet tunic and cap\n and laid them on a bench, then set his black bag carefully on the floor\n and threw it open. \"First off, get rid of those things.\" He pointed\n to the braziers at the bedside. \"They're enough to give anybody a\n headache. And tell those people outside to stop the racket. How can\n they expect the Spirit of the Pox to come out of His Eminence when\n they're raising a din like that?\"\n\n\n Aguar's eyes widened for a moment as he hesitated; then he threw open\n the door and screamed a command. The wailing stopped as though a switch\n had been thrown. As a couple of cowering guards crept in to remove the\n braziers, Red Doctor Jenkins drew the wizard aside.\n\n\n \"Tell me what spells you've already used.\"\n\n\n Hurriedly, Kiz began enumerating, ticking off items on hairy fingers.\n As he talked Jenkins dug into the black bag and started assembling a\n liter flask, tubing and needles.\n\n\n \"First we brewed witches' root for seven hours and poured it over his\n belly. When the Pox appeared in spite of this we lit three red candles\n at the foot of the bed and beat His Eminence steadily for one hour out\n of four, with new rawhide. When His Eminence protested this, we were\n certain the Spirit had possessed him, so we beat him one hour out of\n two—\"\n\n\n Jenkins winced as the accounting of cabalistic clap-trap continued. His\n Eminence, he reflected, must have had the constitution of an ox. He\n glanced over at the panting figure on the bed. \"But doesn't\nanybody\never recover from this?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes—if the Spirit that afflicts them is very small. Those are\n the fortunate ones. They grow hot and sick, but they still can eat\n and drink—\" The wizard broke off to stare at the bottle-and-tube\n arrangement Jenkins had prepared. \"What's that?\"\n\n\n \"I told you about the iron needles, didn't I? Hold this a moment.\"\n Jenkins handed him the liter flask. \"Hold it high.\" He began searching\n for a vein on the patient's baggy arm. The Moruan equivalent of blood\n flowed back greenishly in the tube for an instant as he placed the\n needle; then the flask began to drip slowly.\n\n\n Aguar let out a horrified scream and raced from the room; in a moment\n he was back with a detachment of guards, all armed to the teeth, and\n three other Moruan physicians with their retinues of apprentices. Sam\n Jenkins held up his hand for silence. He allowed the first intravenous\n flask to pour in rapidly; the second he adjusted to a steady\n drip-drip-drip.\n\n\n Next he pulled two large bunsen burners and a gas tank from the bag.\n These he set up at the foot of the bed, adjusting the blue flames to\n high spear-tips. On the bedside table he set up a third with a flask\n above it; into this he poured some water and a few crystals from a dark\n bottle. In a moment the fluid in the flask was churning and boiling, an\n ominous purple color.\n\n\n Kiz watched goggle-eyed.\n\n\n \"Now!\" said Jenkins, pulling out a long thin rubber tube. \"This should\n annoy the Spirit of the Pox something fierce.\" He popped the tube into\n the patient's mouth. His Eminence rose up with a gasp, choking and\n fighting, but the tube went down. The Red Doctor ground three white\n pills into powder, mixed in some water, and poured it down the tube.\n\n\n Then he stepped back to view the scene, wiping cold perspiration from\n his forehead. He motioned to Kiz. \"You see what I'm doing, of course?\"\n he said loudly enough for Aguar and the guards to hear.\n\n\n \"Oh, yes—yes! Indeed, indeed,\" said Kiz.\n\n\n \"Fine. Now this is most important.\" Jenkins searched in the bag until\n he found a large mortar which he set down on the floor. Squatting\n behind it, he began tapping it slowly with the pestle, in perfect\n rhythm with the intravenous drip ... and waited.\n\n\n The room was deathly still except for a heavy snuffling sound from His\n Eminence and the plink-plink of the pestle on the mortar. The flask of\n purple stuff gurgled quietly. An hour passed, and another. Suddenly\n Jenkins motioned to Kiz. \"His pulse—quickly!\"\n\n\n Kiz scampered gratefully over to the bedside. \"A hundred and eighty,\"\n he whispered.\n\n\n Jenkins' face darkened. He peered at the sick man intently. \"It's a\n bad sign,\" he said. \"The Spirit is furious at the intrusion of an\n outsider.\" He motioned toward the mortar. \"Can you do this?\"\n\n\n Without breaking the rhythm he transferred the plinking-job to Kiz.\n He changed the dwindling intravenous bottle. \"Call me when the bottle\n is empty—or if there is any change. Whatever you do,\ndon't touch\n anything\n.\"\n\n\n With that he tiptoed from the room. Four murderous-looking guards\n caught Aguar's eye and followed him out, swords bared. Jenkins sank\n down on a bench in the hall and fell asleep in an instant.\nThey woke him once, hours later, to change the intravenous solution,\n and he found Kiz still intently pounding on the mortar. Jenkins\n administered more of the white powder in water down the tube, and went\n back to his bench. He had barely fallen asleep again when they were\n rousing him with frightened voices. \"Quickly!\" Aguar cried. \"There's\n been a terrible change!\"\n\n\n In the sickroom His Eminence was drenched with sweat, his face\n glistening in the light of the bunsen burners. He rolled from side to\n side, groaning hoarsely. \"\nFaster!\n\" Jenkins shouted to Kiz at the\n mortar, and began stripping off the sodden bedclothes. \"Blankets,\n now—plenty of them.\"\n\n\n The plink-plink rose to a frantic staccato as Jenkins checked the\n patient's vital signs, wiped more sweat from his furry brow. Quite\n suddenly His Eminence opened bleary eyes, stared about him, let out a\n monumental groan and buried his head in the blankets. In two minutes\n he was snoring softly. His face was cool now, his heart-beat slow and\n regular.\n\n\n Jenkins snatched the mortar from Kiz, and with a wild flourish smashed\n it on the stone floor. Then he grabbed the wizard's paw, raising it\n high. \"You've done well!\" he cried to the bewildered physician. \"It's\n over now—the Spirit has departed. His Eminence will recover.\"\nThey escorted him in triumphal procession back to the\nLancet\n, where\n Wally Stone stared in disbelief as Jenkins and Kiz bowed and hugged\n each other like long-lost brothers at a sad farewell. \"I finally got\n through to somebody at HQ,\" he said as the Red Doctor climbed aboard.\n \"It'll take them twenty days at least, to get help, considering that\n Morua is not a Contract planet and we're not supposed to be here in the\n first place, but that's the best they can do....\"\n\n\n \"Tell them to forget the armada,\" said Jenkins, grinning. \"And anyway,\n they've got things all wrong back at HQ.\" He brandished a huge roll\n of parchment, stricken through with the colors of the seven Medical\n Services of Hospital Earth. \"Take a look, my boy—the juiciest Medical\n Services Contract that's been written in three centuries—\" He tossed\n the Contract in the dry-storage locker with a sigh. \"Old Kiz just\n finished his first lesson, and he's still wondering what went on—\"\n\n\n \"So am I,\" said the Green Doctor suspiciously.\n\n\n \"It was simple. We cured His Eminence of the Pox.\"\n\n\n \"With what? Incantations?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, the incantations were for the\ndoctors\n,\" said Jenkins. \"They\n expected them, obviously, since that was the only level of medicine\n they could understand. And incidentally, the only level that could\n possibly get us a Contract. Anyway, I couldn't do very much else, under\n the circumstances, except for a little supportive therapy. Without a\n Bio-survey we were hamstrung. But whatever the Pox is, it obviously\n involves fever, starvation and dehydration. I knew that His Eminence\n could assimilate carbohydrates, and I took a long gamble that an\n antipyretic wouldn't hurt him too much—\"\n\n\n Wally Stone's jaw sagged. \"So you treated him with sugar-water and\n aspirin,\" he said weakly. \"And on that you risked our necks.\"\n\n\n \"Not quite,\" said the Red Doctor. \"You're forgetting that I had\n one other prescription to use—the oldest, most trustworthy\n healer-of-all-ills known to medicine, just as potent now as it was a\n thousand years ago. Without it, Hospital Earth might just as well pack\n up her little black bag and go home.\" He smiled into the mirror as he\n adjusted the scarlet band of the Red Service across his shoulders. \"We\n call it Tincture of Time,\" he said.\n", "questions": [{"question": "When did the earth earn its new title?", "question_unique_id": "60412_XM0T4STT_1", "options": ["When humans from Earth started giving medical care wherever they traveled", "When Earth became known as unrivaled in its development of the biological sciences", "When humans from Earth became known as Galactic Pill Peddlers", "When the first contract was signed"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What do the colors in the physicians' titles mean?", "question_unique_id": "60412_XM0T4STT_2", "options": ["Stone focuses his practice on medication and Jenkins is a surgeon", "Jenkins focuses his practice on medication and Stone is a surgeon", "They both practice emergency medicine", "They can handle all medical problems on the spot"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the planet get the code to call for help?", "question_unique_id": "60412_XM0T4STT_3", "options": ["This remains unknown", "Stolen from a contract planet", "From a crew member before they shot them", "From a crew member under threat of having their ear cut off"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What kind of IV drip did the doctor give the patient?", "question_unique_id": "60412_XM0T4STT_4", "options": ["glucose", "aspirin solution", "viremia drugs", "antibiotic"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the doctor administer by feeding tube?", "question_unique_id": "60412_XM0T4STT_5", "options": ["antibiotics", "a placebo", "aspirin", "sugar water"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the Earth doctor use the mortar and pestle?", "question_unique_id": "60412_XM0T4STT_6", "options": ["To help the local doctor understand the treatment", "To keep the IV drip going", "To prepare medication", "As part of the bio-survey"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, 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{"article_id": "63855", "set_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Starbusters", "year": 1962, "author": "Coppel, Alfred", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; War stories; Short stories", "article": "THE STARBUSTERS\nBy ALFRED COPPEL, JR.\nA bunch of kids in bright new uniforms,\n\n transiting the constellations in a disreputable\n\n old bucket of a space-ship—why should the\n\n leathery-tentacled, chlorine-breathing\n\n Eridans take them seriously?\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1949.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHQ TELWING CSN 30 JAN 27 TO CMDR DAVID FARRAGUT STRYKALSKI VII CO\n TRS CLEOPATRA FLEET BASE CANALOPOLIS MARS STOP SUBJECT ORDERS STOP\n ROUTE LUNA PHOBOS SYRTIS MAJOR TRANSSENDERS PRIORITY AAA STOP MESSAGE\n FOLLOWS STOP TRS CLEOPATRA AND ALL ATTACHED AND OR ASSIGNED PERSONNEL\n HEREBY RELIEVED ASSIGNMENT AND DUTY INNER PLANET PATROL GROUP STOP\n ASSIGNED TEMP DUTY BUREAU RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT STOP SUBJECT VESSEL\n WILL PROCEED WITHOUT DELAY FLEET EXPERIMENTAL SUBSTATION PROVING\n GROUNDS TETHYS SATURNIAN GROUP STOP CO WILL REPORT UPON ARRIVAL TO\n CAPT IVY HENDRICKS ENGINEERING OFFICER PROJECT WARP STOP SIGNED H.\n GORMAN SPACE ADMIRAL COMMANDING STOP END MESSAGE END MESSAGE END\n MESSAGE.\n\n\n \"Amen! Amen! Amen! Stop.\" Commander Strykalski smoothed out the\n wrinkled flimsy by spreading it carefully on the wet bar.\n\n\n Coburn Whitley, the T.R.S.\nCleopatra's\nExecutive, set down his Martini\n and leaned over very slowly to give the paper a microscopic examination\n in the mellow light.\n\n\n \"Maybe,\" he began hopefully, \"It could be a forgery?\"\n\n\n Strike shook his head.\n\n\n Lieutenant Whitley looked crestfallen. \"Then perhaps old Brass-bottom\n Gorman means some other guy named Strykalski?\" To Cob, eight Martinis\n made anything possible.\n\n\n \"Could there be two Strykalskis?\" demanded the owner of the name under\n discussion.\n\n\n \"No.\" Whitley sighed unhappily. \"And there's only one Tellurian Rocket\n Ship\nCleopatra\nin the Combined Solarian Navies, bless her little iron\n rump! Gorman means us. And I think we've been had, that's what I think!\"\n\n\n \"Tethys isn't so bad,\" protested Strike.\n\n\n Cob raised a hand to his eyes as though to blot out the sight of that\n distant moonlet. \"Not so bad, he says! All you care about is seeing Ivy\n Hendricks again, I know you! Tethys!\"\n\n\n Strike made a passing effort to look stern and failed. \"You mean\nCaptain\nHendricks, don't you, Mister Whitley? Captain Hendricks of\n Project Warp?\"\n\n\n Cob made a sour face. \"Project Warp, yet! Sounds like a dog barking!\"\n He growled deep in his throat and barked once or twice experimentally.\n The officer's club was silent, and a silver-braided Commodore sitting\n nearby scowled at Whitley. The Lieutenant subsided with a final small,\n \"Warp!\"\n\n\n An imported Venusian quartet began to play softly. Strike ordered\n another round of drinks from the red-skinned Martian tending bar and\n turned on his stool to survey the small dance floor. The music and the\n subdued lights made him think of Ivy Hendricks. He really wanted to see\n her again. It had been a long time since that memorable flight when\n they had worked together to pull Admiral Gorman's flagship\nAtropos\nout of a tight spot on a perihelion run. Ivy was good to work with ...\n good to be around.\n\n\n But there was apparently more to this transfer than just Ivy pulling\n wires to see him again. Things were tense in the System since Probe\n Fleet skeeterboats had discovered a race of group-minded, non-human\n intelligences on the planets of 40 Eridani C. They lived in frozen\n worlds that were untenable for humans. And they were apparently all\n parts of a single entity that never left the home globe ... a thing no\n human had seen. The group-mind. They were rabidly isolationist and they\n had refused any commerce with the Solar Combine.\n\n\n Only CSN Intelligence knew that the Eridans were warlike ... and that\n they were strongly suspected of having interstellar flight....\n\n\n So, reflected Strike, the transfer of the\nCleopatra\nto Tethys for\n work under the Bureau of Research and Development meant innovations\n and tests. And Commander Strykalski was concerned. The beloved Old\n Aphrodisiac didn't take kindly to innovations. At least she never had\n before, and Strike could see no reason to suppose the cantankerous\n monitor would have changed her disposition.\n\n\n \"There's Celia!\" Cob Whitley was waving toward the dance floor.\n\n\n Celia Graham, trim in her Ensign's greys, was making her way through\n the crowd of dancers. Celia was the\nCleopatra's\nRadar Officer, and\n like all the rest, bound with chains of affection to the cranky old\n warship. The\nCleopatra's\ncrew was a unit ... a team in the true sense\n of the word. They served in her because they wanted to ... would serve\n in no other. That's the way Strike ran his crew, and that's the way the\n crew ran Lover-Girl. Old Aphrodisiac's family was a select community.\n\n\n There was a handsome Martian Naval Lieutenant with Celia, but when she\n saw the thoughtful expression on her Captain's face, she dismissed him\n peremptorily. Here was something, apparently, of a family matter.\n\n\n \"Well, I can't see anything to worry about, Skipper,\" she said when he\n had explained. \"I should think you'd be glad of a chance to see Ivy\n again.\"\n\n\n Cob Whitley leaned precariously forward on his bar-stool to wag a\n finger under Celia's pretty nose. \"But he doesn't know what Captain\n Hendricks has cooked up for Lover-Girl, and you know the old carp likes\n to be treated with respect.\" He affected a very knowing expression.\n \"Besides, we shouldn't be gallivanting around testing Ivy's electronic\n eyelash-curlers when the Eridans are likely to be swooshing around old\n Sol any day!\"\n\n\n \"Cob, you're drunk!\" snapped Celia.\n\n\n \"I am at that,\" mused Whitley with a foolish grin. \"And I'd better\n enjoy it. There'll be no Martinis on Tethys, that's for sure! This\n cruise is going to interfere with my research on ancient twentieth\n century potables...\"\n\n\n Strike heaved his lanky frame upright. \"Well, I suppose we'd better\n call the crew in.\" He turned to Cob. \"Who is Officer of the Deck\n tonight?\"\n\n\n \"Bayne.\"\n\n\n \"Celia, you'd better go relieve him. He'll have to work all night to\n get us an orbit plotted.\"\n\n\n \"Will do, Skipper,\" Celia Graham left.\n\n\n \"Cob, you'd better turn in. Get some sleep. But have the NPs round up\n the crew. If any of them are in the brig, let me know. I'll be on the\n bridge.\"\n\n\n \"What time do you want to lift ship?\"\n\n\n \"0900 hours.\"\n\n\n \"Right.\" Cob took a last loving look around the comfortable officer's\n club and heaved a heavy sigh. \"Tethys, here comes Lover-Girl. It's\n going to be a long, long cruise, Captain.\"\n\n\n How long, he couldn't have known ... then.\nThe flight out was uneventful. Uneventful, that is for the T.R.S.\nCleopatra\n. Only one tube-liner burned through, and only six hours\n wasted in nauseous free-fall.\n\n\n Lover-Girl wormed her way through the asteroid belt, passed within a\n million miles of Jupiter and settled comfortably down on the airless\n field next to the glass-steel dome of the Experimental Substation on\n Tethys. But her satisfied repose was interrupted almost before it was\n begun. Swarms of techmen seemed to burst from the dome and take her\n over. Welders and physicists, naval architects and shipfitters, all\n armed with voluminous blueprints and atomic torches set to work on\n her even before her tubes had cooled. Power lines were crossed and\n re-crossed, shunted and spliced. Weird screen-like appendages were\n welded to her bow and stern. Workmen and engineers stomped through her\n companionways, bawling incomprehensible orders. And her crew watched in\n mute dismay. They had nothing to say about it...\nIvy Hendricks rose from her desk as Strike came into her Engineering\n Office. There was a smile on her face as she extended her hand.\n\n\n \"It's good to see you again, Strike.\"\n\n\n Strykalski studied her. Yes, she hadn't changed. She was still the Ivy\n Hendricks he remembered. She was still calm, still lovely, and still\n very, very competent.\n\n\n \"I've missed you, Ivy.\" Strike wasn't just being polite, either. Then\n he grinned. \"Lover-Girl's missed you, too. There never has been an\n Engineering Officer that could get the performance out of her cranky\n hulk the way you used to!\"\n\n\n \"It's a good thing,\" returned Ivy, still smiling, \"that I'll be back at\n my old job for a while, then.\"\n\n\n Strykalski raised his eyebrows inquisitively. Before Ivy could explain,\n Cob and Celia Graham burst noisily into the room and the greetings\n began again. Ivy, as a former member of the\nCleopatra's\ncrew, was one\n of the family.\n\n\n \"Now, what I would like to know,\" Cob demanded when the small talk had\n been disposed of, \"is what's with this 'Project Warp'? What are you\n planning for Lover-Girl? Your techmen are tearing into her like she was\n a twenty-day leave!\"\n\n\n \"And why was the\nCleopatra\nchosen?\" added Celia curiously.\n\n\n \"Well, I'll make it short,\" Ivy said. \"We're going to make a hyper-ship\n out of her.\"\n\n\n \"Hyper-ship?\" Cob was perplexed.\n\n\n Ivy Hendricks nodded. \"We've stumbled on a laboratory effect that\n warps space. We plan to reproduce it in portable form on the\nCleopatra\n... king size. She'll be able to take us through the\n hyper-spatial barrier.\"\n\n\n \"Golly!\" Celia Graham was wide-eyed. \"I always thought of hyperspace as\n a ... well, sort of an abstraction.\"\n\n\n \"That's been the view up to now. We all shared it here, too, until\n we set up this screen system and things began to disappear when they\n got into the warped field. Then we rigged a remote control and set up\n telecameras in the warp....\" Ivy's face sobered. \"We got plates of\n star-fields ... star-fields that were utterly different and ... and\nalien\n. It seems that there's at least one other space interlocked and\n co-existent with ours. When we realized that we decided to send a ship\n through. I sent a UV teletype to Admiral Gorman at Luna Base ... and\n here you are.\"\n\n\n \"Why us?\" Cob asked thoughtfully.\n\n\n \"I'll answer that,\" offered Strike, \"Lover-Girl's a surge circuit\n monitor, and it's a safe bet this operation takes plenty of power.\" He\n looked over to Ivy. \"Am I right?\"\n\n\n \"Right on the nose, Strike,\" she returned. Then she broke into a wide\n smile. \"Besides, I wouldn't want to enter an alien cosmos with anyone\n but Lover-Girl's family. It wouldn't be right.\"\n\n\n \"Golly!\" said Celia Graham again. \"Alien cosmos ... it sounds so creepy\n when you say it that way.\"\n\n\n \"You could call it other things, if you should happen to prefer them,\"\n Ivy Hendricks said, \"Subspace ... another plane of existence. I....\"\n\n\n She never finished her sentence. The door burst open and a\n Communications yeoman came breathlessly into the office. From the\n ante-room came the sound of an Ultra Wave teletype clattering\n imperiously ... almost frantically.\n\n\n \"Captain Hendricks!\" cried the man excitedly, \"A message is coming\n through from the Proxima transsender ... they're under attack!\"\n\n\n Strykalski was on his feet. \"Attack!\"\n\n\n \"The nonhumans from Eridanus have launched a major invasion of the\n solar Combine! All the colonies in Centaurus are being invaded!\"\n\n\n Strike felt the bottom dropping out of his stomach, and he knew that\n all the others felt the same. If this was a war, they were the ones\n who would have to fight it. And the Eridans! Awful leathery creatures\n with tentacles ... chlorine breathers! They would make a formidable\n enemy, welded as they were into one fighting unit by the functioning of\n the group-mind....\n\n\n He heard himself saying sharply into Ivy's communicator: \"See to it\n that my ship is fueled and armed for space within three hours!\"\n\n\n \"Hold on, Strike!\" Ivy Hendricks intervened, \"What about the tests?\"\n\n\n \"I'm temporarily under Research and Development command, Ivy, but\n Regulations say that fighting ships cannot be held inactive during\n wartime! The\nCleopatra's\na warship and there's a war on now. If you\n can have your gear jerry-rigged in three hours, you can come along\n and test it when we have the chance. Otherwise the hell with it!\"\n Strykalski's face was dead set. \"I mean it, Ivy.\"\n\n\n \"All right, Strike. I'll be ready,\" Ivy Hendricks said coolly.\nExactly three hours and five minutes later, the newly created\n hyper-ship that was still Old Aphrodisiac lifted from the ramp outside\n the Substation dome. She rose slowly at first, the radioactive flame\n from her tubes splashing with sun-bright coruscations over the loading\n pits and revetments. For a fleeting instant she was outlined against\n the swollen orb of Saturn that filled a quarter of Tethys' sky, and\n then she was gone into the galactic night.\n\n\n Aboard, all hands stood at GQ. On the flying bridge Strykalski and\n Coburn Whitley worked steadily to set the ship into the proper position\n in response to the steady flood of equations that streamed into their\n station from Bayne in the dorsal astrogation blister.\n\n\n An hour after blasting free of Tethys was pointed at the snaking river\n of stars below Orion that formed the constellation of Eridanus.\n\n\n When Cob asked why, Strike replied that knowing Gorman, they could\n expect orders from Luna Base ordering them either to attack or\n reconnoiter the 40 Eridani C system of five planets. Strykalski added\n rather dryly that it was likely to be the former, since Space Admiral\n Gorman had no great affection for either the\nCleopatra\nor her crew.\n\n\n Ivy Hendricks joined them after stowing her gear, and when Whitley\n asked her opinion, she agreed with Strike. Her experiences with Gorman\n had been as unfortunate as any of the others.\n\n\n \"I was afraid you'd say that,\" grumbled Cob, \"I was just hoping you\n wouldn't.\"\n\n\n The interphone flashed. Strike flipped the switch.\n\n\n \"Bridge.\"\n\n\n \"Communications here. Message from Luna Base, Captain.\"\n\n\n \"Here it is,\" Strykalski told Cob. \"Right on time.\"\n\n\n \"Speak of the devil,\" muttered the Executive.\n\n\n \"From the Admiral, sir,\" the voice in the interphone said, \"Shall I\n read it?\"\n\n\n \"Just give me the dope,\" ordered Strike.\n\n\n \"The Admiral orders us to quote make a diversionary attack on the\n planet of 40 Eridani C II unquote,\" said the squawk-box flatly.\n\n\n \"Acknowledge,\" ordered Strykalski.\n\n\n \"Wilco. Communications out.\"\n\n\n Strike made an I-told-you-so gesture to his Executive. Then he turned\n toward the enlisted man at the helm. \"Quarter-master?\"\n\n\n The man looked up from his auto-pilot check. \"Sir.\"\n\n\n \"Steady as she goes.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\n \"And that,\" shrugged Ivy Hendricks, \"Is that.\"\nThree weeks passed in the timeless limbo of second-order flight. Blast\n tubes silent, the\nCleopatra\nrode the curvature of space toward\n Eridanus. At eight and a half light years from Sol, the second-order\n was cut so that Bayne could get a star sight. As the lights of the\n celestial globe slowly retreated from their unnatural grouping ahead\n and astern, brilliant Sirius and its dwarf companion showed definite\n disks in the starboard ports. At a distance of 90,000,000 miles from\n the Dog Star, its fourteen heavy-gravity planets were plainly visible\n through the electron telescope.\n\n\n Strykalski and Ivy Hendricks stood beside Bayne in the dorsal blister\n while the astrogator sighted Altair through his polytant. His long,\n horse face bore a look of complete self-approbation when he had\n completed his last shot.\n\n\n \"A perfect check with the plotted course! How's that for fancy dead\n reckoning?\" he exclaimed.\n\n\n He was destined never to know the accolade, for at that moment the\n communicator began to flash angrily over the chart table. Bayne cut it\n in with an expression of disgust.\n\n\n \"Is the Captain there?\" demanded Celia Graham's voice excitedly.\n\n\n Strike took over the squawk-box. \"Right here, Celia. What is it?\"\n\n\n \"Radar contact, sir! The screen is crazy with blips!\"\n\n\n \"Could it be window?\"\n\n\n \"No, sir. The density index indicates spacecraft. High value in the\n chlorine lines....\"\n\n\n \"Eridans!\" cried Ivy.\n\n\n \"What's the range, Celia?\" demanded Strike. \"And how many of them are\n there?\"\n\n\n The sound of the calculator came through the grill. Then Celia replied:\n \"Range 170,000 miles, and there are more than fifty and less than two\n hundred. That's the best I can do from this far away. They seem to\n have some sort of radiation net out and they are moving into spread\n formation.\"\n\n\n Strike cursed. \"They've spotted us and they want to scoop us in with\n that force net! Damn that group-mind of theirs ... it makes for uncanny\n co-ordination!\" He turned back to the communicator. \"Cob! Are you on?\"\n\n\n \"Right here, Captain,\" came Cob Whitley's voice from the bridge.\n\n\n \"Shift into second-order! We'll have to try and run their net!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Whitley snapped.\n\n\n \"Communications!\" called Strike.\n\n\n \"Communications here.\"\n\n\n \"Notify Luna Base we have made contact. Give their numbers, course, and\n speed!\"\n\n\n Ivy could feel her heart pounding under her blouse. Her face was\n deadly pale, mouth pinched and drawn. This was the first time in battle\n for any of them ... and she dug her fingernails into her palms trying\n not to be afraid.\n\n\n Strykalski was rapping out his orders with machine-gun rapidity, making\n ready to fight his ship if need be ... and against lop-sided odds. But\n years of training were guiding him now.\n\n\n \"Gun deck!\"\n\n\n A feminine voice replied.\n\n\n \"Check your accumulators. We may have to fight. Have the gun-pointers\n get the plots from Radar. And load fish into all tubes.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir!\" the woman rapped out.\n\n\n \"Radar!\"\n\n\n \"Right here, Skipper!\"\n\n\n \"We're going into second-order, Celia. Use UV Radar and keep tabs on\n them.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain.\"\n\n\n Strike turned to Ivy Hendricks. \"Let's get back to the bridge, Ivy.\n It's going to be a hell of a rough half hour!\"\n\n\n As they turned to go, all the pin-points of light that were the stars\n vanished, only to reappear in distorted groups ahead and behind the\n ship. They were in second-order flight again, and traveling above light\n speed. Within seconds, contact would be made with the advance units of\n the alien fleet.\n\n\n Old Aphrodisiac readied herself for war.\nLike a maddened bull terrier, the old monitor charged at the Eridan\n horde. Within the black hulls strange, tentacled creatures watched\n her in scanners that were activated by infrared light. The chlorine\n atmosphere grew tense as the Tellurian warship drove full at the\n pulsating net of interlocked force lines. Parsecs away, on a frozen\n world were a dull red shrunken sun shone dimly through fetid air,\n the thing that was the group-mind of the Eridans guided the thousand\n leathery tentacles that controlled the hundred and fifty black\n spaceships. The soft quivering bulk of it throbbed with excitement as\n it prepared to kill the tiny Tellurian thing that dared to threaten its\n right to conquest.\n\n\n Old Lover-Girl tried gallantly to pierce the strange trap. She failed.\n The alien weapons were too strange, too different from anything her\n builders could have imagined or prepared her to face. The net sucked\n the life from her second-order generators, and she slowed, like the\n victim of a nightmare. Now rays of heat reached out for her, grazing\n her flanks as she turned and twisted. One touched her atmospheric fins\n and melted them into slowly congealing globes of steel glowing with a\n white heat. She fought back with whorls of atomic fire that sped from\n her rifles to wreak havoc among her attackers.\n\n\n Being non-entities in themselves, and only limbs of the single\n mentality that rested secure on its home world, the Eridans lacked the\n vicious will to live that drove the Tellurian warship and her crew. But\n their numbers wore her down, cutting her strength with each blow that\n chanced to connect.\n\n\n Torpedoes from the tubes that circled her beam found marks out in\n space and leathery aliens died, their black ships burst asunder by the\n violence of new atoms being created from old.\n\n\n But there were too many. They hemmed her in, heat rays ever slashing,\n wounding her. Strykalski fought her controls, cursing her, coaxing\n her. Damage reports were flowing into the flying bridge from every\n point in the monitor's body. Lover-Girl was being hurt ... hurt badly.\n The second-order drive was damaged, not beyond repair, but out of\n commission for at least six hours. And they couldn't last six hours.\n They couldn't last another ten minutes. It was only the practiced hands\n of her Captain and crew that kept the\nCleopatra\nalive....\n\n\n \"We're caught, Ivy!\" Strike shouted to the girl over the noises of\n battle. \"She can't stand much more of this!\"\n\n\n Cob was screaming at the gun-pointers through the open communicator\n circuit, his blood heated by the turbulent cacophony of crackling rays\n and exploding torpedoes. \"Hit 'em! Damn it! Damn it, hit 'em now! Dead\n ahead! Hit 'em again!...\"\n\n\n Ivy stumbled across the throbbing deck to stand at Strykalski's side.\n \"The hyper drive!\" she yelled, \"The hyper drive!\"\n\n\n It was a chance. It was the\nonly\nchance ... for Lover-Girl and Ivy\n and Cob and Celia ... for all of them. He had to chance it. \"Ivy!\" he\n called over his shoulder, \"Check with Engineering! See if the thing's\n hooked into the surge circuit!\"\n\n\n She struggled out of the flying bridge and down the ramp toward the\n engine deck. Strike and Cob stayed and sweated and cursed and fought.\n It seemed that she would never report.\n\n\n At last the communicator began to flash red. Strike opened the circuit\n with his free hand. \"All right?\" he demanded with his heart in his\n throat.\n\n\n \"\nTry it!\n\" Ivy shouted back.\n\n\n Strykalski lurched from his chair as another ray caught the ship for an\n instant and heated a spot on the wall to a cherry red. Gods! he prayed\n fervently. Let it work!\n\n\n A movement of the ship threw him to the deck. He struggled to his\n feet and across to the jerry-rigged switchboard that controlled the\n hyper drive's warp field. With a prayer on his lips, he slapped at the\n switches with wild abandon....\nThe sudden silence was like a physical blow. Strike staggered to the\n port and looked out. No alien ships filled the void with crisscrossing\n rays. No torpedoes flashed. The\nCleopatra\nwas alone, floating in\n star-flecked emptiness.\n\n\n There were no familiar constellations. The stars were spread evenly\n across the ebony bowl of the sky, and they looked back at him with an\n alien, icy disdain.\n\n\n The realization that he stood with a tiny shell, an infinitesimal human\n island lost in the vastness of a completely foreign cosmos broke with\n an almost mind-shattering intensity over his brain!\n\n\n He was conscious of Cob standing beside him, looking out into this\n unknown universe and whispering in awe: \"\nWe're\nthe aliens here....\"\n\n\n Ivy Hendricks came into the bridge then, a haggard look around her\n eyes. \"I came up through the ventral blister,\" she said, \"Bayne is down\n there and he's having fits. There isn't a star in sight he recognizes\n and the whole hull of the ship is\nglowing\n!\"\n\n\n Cob and Strykalski rushed back to the port, straining to see the\n back-curving plates of the hull. Ivy was right. The metal, and to a\n lesser extent, even the leaded glassteel of the port was covered with a\n dim, dancing witchfire. It was as though the ship were being bombarded\n by a continuous shower of microscopic fire bombs.\n\n\n Whitley found refuge in his favorite expression. \"Ye gods and little\n catfish!\"\n\n\n Strike turned to Ivy. \"What do you think it is?\"\n\n\n \"I ... I don't know. Matter itself might be different ... here.\"\n\n\n Strykalski found himself at the port again, looking out into the vast\n stretch of alien void. Terror was seeping like dampness through him,\n stretching cold fingers into his heart and mind. He realized that\n everyone on board must feel the same way. It was the old human devil\n rising from the pit of the primeval past. Fear of the unknown, of the\n strange. And there was loneliness. From the dark corners of his mind,\n the terrible loneliness came stealing forth. Never had a group of human\n beings been so frighteningly\napart\nfrom their kind. He felt rejected,\n scorned and lost.\n\n\n The others felt it, too. Ivy and Cob drew closer, until all three stood\n touching each other; as though they could dispel the loneliness of the\n unnatural environment by the warmth of human, animal contact. Celia\n came into the bridge softly ... just to be near her friends.\n\n\n It was only the fact that they could return at will to their own\n space ... and the danger of the questing Eridans ... that kept one or\n all from crying out in utter childish fear. Celia Graham whimpered\n softly and slipped her hand into Cob's. He squeezed it to give her a\n reassurance he did not feel.\n\n\n Then Strike broke the spell. The effort was great, but it brushed away\n the shadows that had risen to plague them from the tortured abyss of\n racial memory. It brought them back to what they were: highly civilized\n people, parts of an intricately technological culture. Their ship\n was a part of that culture. The only part they could cling to. The\nCleopatra\ndemanded attention and service, and her demanding saved\n them.\n\n\n \"Cob,\" Strike directed with forced briskness, \"Take over Damage\n Control. See what can be done about the second-order drive.\"\n\n\n Cob pulled himself together, smiling as all the accustomed pieces\n of his life began to fit together again. It didn't matter that they\n were in an unknown cosmos. Damage Control was something he knew and\n understood. He smiled thankfully and left the bridge.\n\n\n \"Maintain a continuous radar-watch, Celia. We can't tell what we may\n encounter here.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain,\" replied Celia gratefully.\n\n\n Strykalski reached for the squawk-box and called Bayne.\n\n\n \"Astrogation here,\" came the shaky reply. In the exposed blisters the\n agoraphobia must be more acute, reasoned Strike, and Bayne must have\n been subconsciously stirred up by the disappearance of the familiar\n stars that were his stock-in-trade.\n\n\n \"Plot us a course to 40 Eridani C, Bayne,\" Strykalski directed. \"On\n gyro-headings.\"\n\n\n \"What?\" The astrogator sounded as though he thought Strike had lost his\n mind. \"Through\nthis\nspace?\"\n\n\n \"Certainly,\" Strykalski insisted quietly. \"You're so proud of your\n dead-reckoning. Here's a chance for you to do a real job. Get me an\n orbit.\"\n\n\n \"I ... all right, Captain,\" grumbled Bayne.\n\n\n Strike turned to Ivy Hendricks. \"Well, Captain Hendricks, this is some\n gadget you have dreamed up out of your Project Warp,\" he breathed\n shakily. \"At least the fat's out of the fire for the time being....\"\n\n\n Ivy looked out of the port and back with a shudder. \"I hope so, Strike.\n I hope so.\"\n\n\n They fell silent, seeking comfort in each other's presence.\nThe second-order drive repaired, Old Aphrodisiac moved out through the\n alien space toward the spot where 40 Eridani C existed on the other\n side of the barrier.\n\n\n The ship's tactical astrophysicist brought in some disturbing reports\n on the stars that shone brightly all around her. They fitted the\n accepted classifications in all particulars ... except one. And that\n one had the scientist tearing his hair. The mass of every observable\n body except the ship herself was practically non-existent. Even the two\n planetary systems discovered by the electron telescope flouted their\n impossible lack of mass.\n\n\n Ivy suggested that since the\nCleopatra\nand her crew were no part of\n this alien cosmos, no prime-space instruments could detect the errant\n mass. Like a microscopic bull in a gargantuan china shop, the Tellurian\n warship existed under a completely different set of physical laws than\n did the heavenly bodies of this strange space.\n\n\n It was pure conjecture, but it seemed well supported by the observable\n facts. The hull continued to glow with its unnatural witchfire, and\n soon disturbing reports were coming in from the Damage Control section\n that the thickness of the outer hull was actually being reduced.\n The rate was slow, and there was no immediate danger, but it was\n nevertheless unnerving to realize that Lover-Girl was being dissolved\n by\nsomething\n. Also, the outside Geigs recorded a phenomenal amount\n of short radiation emanating\nfrom the ship herself\n. The insulation\n kept most of it from penetrating, but tests showed that the strange\n radiation's source was the glow that clung stubbornly to the spacer's\n skin.\n\n\n A tense week passed and then the ship neared the spot where a\n change over to prime-space could be effected. According to Bayne's\n calculations, 40 Eridani C would be within 40,000,000 miles of them\n when the ship emerged from hyper space.\n\n\n And then the Radar section picked up the planetoids. Millions of them,\n large and small, lay in a globular cluster dead ahead. They spread out\n in all directions for more than half a parsec ... dull, rocky little\n worlds without a gram of detectable mass.\n\n\n All that waited for the\nCleopatra\nin her own cosmos was a hot\n reception at the hands of the defenders of 40 Eridani C II, while here\n was mystery at close range. Mystery that was not cosmic in scope ...\n just a swarm of innocuous seeming planetoids ... the first explorable\n worlds that they had neared in this universe. Strike decided to heave\n to and examine their find. Ivy wanted samples and though no one said\n it in so many words ... no one was anxious for another encounter\n with the rapacious Eridans. With typically human adaptiveness they\n had sublimated their fear of the unknown space in which they found\n themselves. Curiosity took the place of fear and here was something\n close at hand to probe. Anthropoid inquisitiveness prevailed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Who is called an aphrodisiac?", "question_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG_1", "options": ["Celia Graham", "the Cleopatra", "Commander Strike", "Ivy Hendricks"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the main reason the Cleopatra was chosen to report to Tethys?", "question_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG_2", "options": ["The Eridans launched a major invasion", "She is led by Commander Strike", "She was close by", "She has enough power to complete the mission"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the workers weld appendages to the Cleopatra?", "question_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG_3", "options": ["To prepare for battle against the Eridans", "To enable travel to hyperspace", "Maintenance during a twenty-day leave", "To make it through the asteroid belt"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Gorman feel about Strike?", "question_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG_4", "options": ["He wanted him to conduct the hyperspace experiment", "He did not like him", "He liked him for pulling his flagship out of a tight spot", "He had him mixed up with some other guy named Strykalski"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How long did it take the Cleopatra to travel from Tethys to Eridanus?", "question_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG_5", "options": ["Eight and a half light years", "Three hours and five minutes", "An unknown amount of time", "Three weeks"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What best describes the battle?", "question_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG_6", "options": ["Chlorine gas and heat rays verus rifle fire and torpedoes", "radiation net and rays of heat versus rifle fire and torpedoes", "Chlorine gas and radiation net versus heat rays and torpedoes", "radiation net and torpedoes versus rifle fire and heat rays"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the Eridans not care if they died?", "question_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG_7", "options": ["They were breathing chlorine gas", "They had no mind inside their bodies", "They had 150 spaceships", "They were warlike"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the ship go to hyperspace?", "question_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG_8", "options": ["Because Cob gave the order", "Because Gorman appointed them to the experiment", "Because they needed time to fix the drive", "Because Ivy requested the ship for the experiment"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was the ship able to navigate through the alien cosmos?", "question_unique_id": "63855_F9FDT8EG_9", "options": ["They were able to calculate the route", "They were already in route to Eridanus", "They were able to sight alien stars", "They discovered two planetary systems by telescope"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/5/63855//63855-h//63855-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63633", "set_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Out of the Iron Womb!", "year": 1964, "author": "Anderson, Poul", "topic": "Asteroids -- Fiction; Adventure stories; PS; Science fiction", "article": "OUT OF THE IRON WOMB!\nBy POUL ANDERSON\nBehind a pale Venusian mask lay hidden the\n \narch-humanist, the anti-tech killer ... one of\n \nthose who needlessly had strewn Malone blood\n \nacross the heavens from Saturn to the sun.\n \nNow—on distant Trojan asteroids—the\n \nrendezvous for death was plainly marked.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe most dangerous is not the outlawed murderer, who only slays men,\n but the rebellious philosopher: for he destroys worlds.\n\n\n Darkness and the chill glitter of stars. Bo Jonsson crouched on a\n whirling speck of stone and waited for the man who was coming to kill\n him.\n\n\n There was no horizon. The flying mountain on which he stood was\n too small. At his back rose a cliff of jagged rock, losing its own\n blackness in the loom of shadows; its teeth ate raggedly across the\n Milky Way. Before him, a tumbled igneous wilderness slanted crazily\n off, with one long thin crag sticking into the sky like a grotesque\n bowsprit.\n\n\n There was no sound except the thudding of his own heart, the harsh rasp\n of his own breath, locked inside the stinking metal skin of his suit.\n Otherwise ... no air, no heat, no water or life or work of man, only a\n granite nakedness spinning through space out beyond Mars.\n\n\n Stooping, awkward in the clumsy armor, he put the transparent plastic\n of his helmet to the ground. Its cold bit at him even through the\n insulating material. He might be able to hear the footsteps of his\n murderer conducted through the ground.\n\n\n Stillness answered him. He gulped a heavy lungful of tainted air\n and rose. The other might be miles away yet, or perhaps very close,\n catfooting too softly to set up vibrations. A man could do that when\n gravity was feeble enough.\n\n\n The stars blazed with a cruel wintry brilliance, over him, around\n him, light-years to fall through emptiness before he reached one. He\n had been alone among them before; he had almost thought them friends.\n Sometimes, on a long watch, a man found himself talking to Vega or\n Spica or dear old Beetle Juice, murmuring what was in him as if the\n remote sun could understand. But they didn't care, he saw that now. To\n them, he did not exist, and they would shine carelessly long after he\n was gone into night.\n\n\n He had never felt so alone as now, when another man was on the asteroid\n with him, hunting him down.\n\n\n Bo Jonsson looked at the wrench in his hand. It was long and massive,\n it would have been heavy on Earth, but it was hardly enough to unscrew\n the stars and reset the machinery of a universe gone awry. He smiled\n stiffly at the thought. He wanted to laugh too, but checked himself for\n fear he wouldn't be able to stop.\nLet's face it\n, he told himself.\nYou're scared. You're scared\n sweatless.\nHe wondered if he had spoken it aloud.\n\n\n There was plenty of room on the asteroid. At least two hundred square\n miles, probably more if you allowed for the rough surface. He could\n skulk around, hide ... and suffocate when his tanked air gave out. He\n had to be a hunter, too, and track down the other man, before he died.\n And if he found his enemy, he would probably die anyway.\n\n\n He looked about him. Nothing. No sound, no movement, nothing but the\n streaming of the constellations as the asteroid spun. Nothing had ever\n moved here, since the beginning of time when moltenness congealed into\n death. Not till men came and hunted each other.\n\n\n Slowly he forced himself to move. The thrust of his foot sent him\n up, looping over the cliff to drift down like a dead leaf in Earth's\n October. Suit, equipment, and his own body, all together, weighed only\n a couple of pounds here. It was ghostly, this soundless progress over\n fields which had never known life. It was like being dead already.\n\n\n Bo Jonsson's tongue was dry and thick in his mouth. He wanted to\n find his enemy and give up, buy existence at whatever price it would\n command. But he couldn't do that. Even if the other man let him do it,\n which was doubtful, he couldn't. Johnny Malone was dead.\n\n\n Maybe that was what had started it all—the death of Johnny Malone.\nThere are numerous reasons for basing on the Trojan asteroids, but\n the main one can be given in a single word: stability. They stay put\n in Jupiter's orbit, about sixty degrees ahead and behind, with only\n minor oscillations; spaceships need not waste fuel coming up to a body\n which has been perturbed a goodly distance from where it was supposed\n to be. The trailing group is the jumping-off place for trans-Jovian\n planets, the leading group for the inner worlds—that way, their own\n revolution about the sun gives the departing ship a welcome boost,\n while minimizing the effects of Jupiter's drag.\n\n\n Moreover, being dense clusters, they have attracted swarms of miners,\n so that Achilles among the leaders and Patroclus in the trailers have a\n permanent boom town atmosphere. Even though a spaceship and equipment\n represent a large investment, this is one of the last strongholds of\n genuinely private enterprise: the prospector, the mine owner, the\n rockhound dreaming of the day when his stake is big enough for him to\n start out on his own—a race of individualists, rough and noisy and\n jealous, but living under iron rules of hospitality and rescue.\n\n\n The Last Chance on Achilles has another name, which simply sticks an\n \"r\" in the official one; even for that planetoid, it is a rowdy bar\n where Guardsmen come in trios. But Johnny Malone liked it, and talked\n Bo Jonsson into going there for a final spree before checkoff and\n departure. \"Nothing to compare,\" he insisted. \"Every place else is\n getting too fantangling civilized, except Venus, and I don't enjoy\n Venus.\"\n\n\n Johnny was from Luna City himself: a small, dark man with the quick\n nervous movements and dipped accent of that roaring commercial\n metropolis. He affected the latest styles, brilliant colors in the\n flowing tunic and slacks, a beret cocked on his sleek head. But somehow\n he didn't grate on Bo, they had been partners for several years now.\n\n\n They pushed through a milling crowd at the bar, rockhounds who watched\n one of Achilles' three live ecdysiasts with hungry eyes, and by some\n miracle found an empty booth. Bo squeezed his bulk into one side of the\n cubicle while Johnny, squinting through a reeking smoke-haze, dialed\n drinks. Bo was larger and heavier than most spacemen—he'd never have\n gotten his certificate before the ion drive came in—and was usually\n content to let others talk while he listened. A placid blond giant,\n with amiable blue eyes in a battered brown face, he did not consider\n himself bright, and always wanted to learn.\n\n\n Johnny gulped his drink and winced. \"Whiskey, they call it yet! Water,\n synthetic alcohol, and a dash of caramel they have the gall to label\n whiskey and charge for!\"\n\n\n \"Everything's expensive here,\" said Bo mildly. \"That's why so few\n rockhounds get rich. They make a lot of money, but they have to spend\n it just as fast to stay alive.\"\n\n\n \"Yeh ... yeh ... wish they'd spend some of it on us.\" Johnny grinned\n and fed the dispenser another coin. It muttered to itself and slid\n forth a tray with a glass. \"C'mon, drink up, man. It's a long way home,\n and we've got to fortify ourselves for the trip. A bottle, a battle,\n and a wench is what I need. Most especially the wench, because I don't\n think the eminent Dr. McKittrick is gonna be interested in sociability,\n and it's close quarters aboard the\nDog\n.\"\n\n\n Bo kept on sipping slowly. \"Johnny,\" he said, raising his voice to cut\n through the din, \"you're an educated man. I never could figure out why\n you want to talk like a jumper.\"\n\n\n \"Because I am one at heart. Look, Bo, why don't you get over that\n inferiority complex of yours? A man can't run a spaceship without\n knowing more math and physical science than the average professor on\n Earth. So you had to work your way through the Academy and never had a\n chance to fan yourself with a lily white hand while somebody tootled\n Mozart through a horn. So what?\" Johnny's head darted around, birdlike.\n \"If we want some women we'd better make our reservations now.\"\n\n\n \"I don't, Johnny,\" said Bo. \"I'll just nurse a beer.\" It wasn't morals\n so much as fastidiousness; he'd wait till they hit Luna.\n\n\n \"Suit yourself. If you don't want to uphold the honor of the Sirius\n Transportation Company—\"\n\n\n Bo chuckled. The Company consisted of (a) the\nSirius\n; (b) her crew,\n himself and Johnny; (c) a warehouse, berth, and three other part owners\n back in Luna City. Not exactly a tramp ship, because you can't normally\n stop in the middle of an interplanetary voyage and head for somewhere\n else; but she went wherever there was cargo or people to be moved.\n Her margin of profit was not great in spite of the charges, for a\n space trip is expensive; but in a few more years they'd be able to buy\n another ship or two, and eventually Fireball and Triplanetary would be\n getting some competition. Even the public lines might have to worry a\n little.\n\n\n Johnny put away another couple of shots and rose. Alcohol cost plenty,\n but it was also more effective in low-gee. \"'Scuse me,\" he said. \"I see\n a target. Sure you don't want me to ask if she has a friend?\"\n\n\n Bo shook his head and watched his partner move off, swift in the puny\n gravity—the Last Chance didn't centrifuge like some of the tommicker\n places downtown. It was hard to push through the crowd without weight\n to help, but Johnny faded along and edged up to the girl with his\n highest-powered smile. There were several other men standing around\n her, but Johnny had The Touch. He'd be bringing her back here in a few\n minutes.\n\n\n Bo sighed, feeling a bit lonesome. If he wasn't going to make a night\n of it, there was no point in drinking heavily. He had to make the final\n inspection of the ship tomorrow, and grudged the cost of anti-hangover\n tablets. Besides what he was putting back into the business, he was\n trying to build a private hoard; some day, he'd retire and get married\n and build a house. He already had the site picked out, on Kullen\n overlooking the Sound, back on Earth. Man, but it was a long time since\n he'd been on Earth!\n\n\n A sharp noise slashed through the haze of talk and music Bo looked up.\n There was a tall black haired man, Venusian to judge by his kilts,\n arguing with Johnny. His face was ugly with anger.\n\n\n Johnny made some reply. Bo heaved up his form and strode toward the\n discussion, casually picking up anyone in the way and setting him\n aside. Johnny liked a fight, but this Venusian was big.\n\n\n As he neared, he caught words: \"—my girl, dammit.\"\n\n\n \"Like hell I am!\" said the girl. \"I never saw you before—\"\n\n\n \"Run along and play, son,\" said Johnny. \"Or do you want me to change\n that diaper of yours?\"\n\n\n That was when it happened. Bo saw the little needler spit from the\n Venusian's fingers. Johnny stood there a moment, looking foolishly at\n the dart in his stomach. Then his knees buckled and he fell with a\n nightmare slowness.\n\n\n The Venusian was already on the move. He sprang straight up, slammed a\n kick at the wall, and arced out the door into the dome corridor beyond.\nA spaceman, that. Knows how to handle himself in low-gee.\nIt was the\n only clear thought which ran in the sudden storm of Bo's head.\n\n\n The girl screamed. A man cursed and tried to follow the Venusian.\n He tangled with another. \"Get outta my way!\" A roar lifted, someone\n slugged, someone else coolly smashed a bottle against the bar and\n lifted the jagged end. There was the noise of a fist meeting flesh.\n\n\n Bo had seen death before. That needle wasn't anesthetic, it was poison.\n He knelt in the riot with Johnny's body in his arms.\nII\n\n\n Suddenly the world came to an end. There was a sheer drop-off onto the\n next face of the rough cube which was the asteroid. Bo lay on his belly\n and peered down the cliff, it ran for a couple of miles and beyond it\n were the deeps of space and the cold stars. He could dimly see the\n tortured swirl of crystallization patterns in the smooth bareness. No\n place to hide; his enemy was not there.\n\n\n He turned the thought over in a mind which seemed stiff and slow. By\n crossing that little plain he was exposing himself to a shot from one\n of its edges. On the other hand, he could just as well be bushwhacked\n from a ravine as he jumped over. And this route was the fastest for\n completing his search scheme.\n\n\n The Great Bear slid into sight, down under the world as it turned. He\n had often stood on winter nights, back in Sweden, and seen its immense\n sprawl across the weird flicker of aurora; but even then he wanted the\n spaceman's experience of seeing it from above. Well, now he had his\n wish, and much good it had done him.\n\n\n He went over the edge of the cliff, cautiously, for it wouldn't take\n much of an impetus to throw him off this rock entirely. Then his\n helpless and soon frozen body would be just another meteor for the next\n million years. The vague downward sensation of gravity shifted insanely\n as he moved; he had the feeling that the world was tilting around him.\n Now it was the precipice which was a scarred black plain underfoot,\n reaching to a saw-toothed bluff at its farther edge.\n\n\n He moved with flat low-gee bounds. Besides the danger of springing off\n the asteroid entirely, there was its low acceleration to keep a man\n near the ground; jump up a few feet and it would take you a while to\n fall back. It was utterly silent around him. He had never thought there\n could be so much stillness.\n\n\n He was halfway across when the bullet came. He saw no flash, heard\n no crack, but suddenly the fissured land before him exploded in a\n soundless shower of chips. The bullet ricocheted flatly, heading off\n for outer space. No meteor gravel, that!\n\n\n Bo stood unmoving an instant, fighting the impulse to leap away. He was\n a spaceman, not a rockhound; he wasn't used to this environment, and if\n he jumped high he could be riddled as he fell slowly down again. Sweat\n was cold on his body. He squinted, trying to see where the shot had\n come from.\n\n\n Suddenly he was zigzagging off across the plain toward the nearest\n edge. Another bullet pocked the ground near him. The sun rose, a tiny\n heatless dazzle blinding in his eyes.\n\n\n Fire crashed at his back. Thunder and darkness exploded before him. He\n lurched forward, driven by the impact. Something was roaring, echoes\n clamorous in his helmet. He grew dimly aware that it was himself. Then\n he was falling, whirling down into the black between the stars.\n\n\n There was a knife in his back, it was white-hot and twisting between\n the ribs. He stumbled over the edge of the plain and fell, waking when\n his armor bounced a little against stone.\n\n\n Breath rattled in his throat as he turned his head. There was a white\n plume standing over his shoulder, air streaming out through the hole\n and freezing its moisture. The knife in him was not hot, it was cold\n with an ultimate cold.\n\n\n Around him, world and stars rippled as if seen through heat, through\n fever. He hung on the edge of creation by his fingertips, while chaos\n shouted beneath.\nTheoretically, one man can run a spaceship, but in practice two\n or three are required for non-military craft. This is not only an\n emergency reserve, but a preventive of emergencies, for one man alone\n might get too tired at the critical moments. Bo knew he wouldn't be\n allowed to leave Achilles without a certified partner, and unemployed\n spacemen available for immediate hiring are found once in a Venusian\n snowfall.\n\n\n Bo didn't care the first day. He had taken Johnny out to Helmet Hill\n and laid him in the barren ground to wait, unchanging now, till\n Judgement Day. He felt empty then, drained of grief and hope alike,\n his main thought a dull dread of having to tell Johnny's father when\n he reached Luna. He was too slow and clumsy with words; his comforting\n hand would only break the old man's back. Old Malone had given six sons\n to space, Johnny was the last; from Saturn to the sun, his blood was\n strewn for nothing.\n\n\n It hardly seemed to matter that the Guards office reported itself\n unable to find the murderer. A single Venusian should have been easy to\n trace on Achilles, but he seemed to have vanished completely.\n\n\n Bo returned to the transient quarters and dialed Valeria McKittrick.\n She looked impatiently at him out of the screen. \"Well,\" she said,\n \"what's the matter? I thought we were blasting today.\"\n\n\n \"Hadn't you heard?\" asked Bo. He found it hard to believe she could\n be ignorant, here where everybody's life was known to everybody else.\n \"Johnny's dead. We can't leave.\"\n\n\n \"Oh ... I'm sorry. He was such a nice little man—I've been in the lab\n all the time, packing my things, and didn't know.\" A frown crossed her\n clear brow. \"But you've got to get me back. I've engaged passage to\n Luna with you.\"\n\n\n \"Your ticket will be refunded, of course,\" said Bo heavily. \"But you\n aren't certified, and the\nSirius\nis licensed for no less than two\n operators.\"\n\n\n \"Well ... damn! There won't be another berth for weeks, and I've\ngot\nto get home. Can't you find somebody?\"\n\n\n Bo shrugged, not caring much. \"I'll circulate an ad if you want, but—\"\n\n\n \"Do so, please. Let me know.\" She switched off.\n\n\n Bo sat for a moment thinking about her. Valeria McKittrick was worth\n considering. She wasn't beautiful in any conventional sense but she was\n tall and well built; there were good lines in the strong high boned\n face, and her hair was a cataract of spectacular red. And brains,\n too ... you didn't get to be a physicist with the Union's radiation\n labs for nothing. He knew she was still young, and that she had been on\n Achilles for about a year working on some special project and was now\n ready to go home.\n\n\n She was human enough, had been to most of the officers' parties and\n danced and laughed and flirted mildly, but even the dullest rockhound\n gossip knew she was too lost in her work to do more. Out here a woman\n was rare, and a virtuous woman unheard-of; as a result, unknown to\n herself, Dr. McKittrick's fame had spread through more thousands of\n people and millions of miles than her professional achievements were\n ever likely to reach.\n\n\n Since coming here, on commission from the Lunar lab, to bring her\n home, Bo Jonsson had given her an occasional wistful thought. He liked\n intelligent women, and he was getting tired of rootlessness. But of\n course it would be a catastrophe if he fell in love with her because\n she wouldn't look twice at a big dumb slob like him. He had sweated out\n a couple of similar affairs in the past and didn't want to go through\n another.\n\n\n He placed his ad on the radinews circuit and then went out to get\n drunk. It was all he could do for Johnny now, drink him a final\n wassail. Already his friend was cold under the stars. In the course of\n the evening he found himself weeping.\n\n\n He woke up many hours later. Achilles ran on Earth time but did not\n rotate on it; officially, it was late at night, actually the shrunken\n sun was high over the domes. The man in the upper bunk said there was a\n message for him; he was to call one Einar Lundgard at the Comet Hotel\n soonest.\n\n\n The Comet! Anyone who could afford a room to himself here, rather than\n a kip in the public barracks, was well fueled. Bo swallowed a tablet\n and made his way to the visi and dialed. The robo-clerk summoned\n Lundgard down to the desk.\n\n\n It was a lean, muscular face under close cropped brown hair which\n appeared in the screen. Lundgard was a tall and supple man, somehow\n neat even without clothes. \"Jonsson,\" said Bo. \"Sorry to get you up,\n but I understood—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes. Are you looking for a spaceman? I heard your ad and I'm\n available.\"\n\n\n Bo felt his mouth gape open. \"Huh? I never thought—\"\n\n\n \"We're both lucky, I guess.\" Lundgard chuckled. His English had only\n the slightest trace of accent, less than Bo's. \"I thought I was stashed\n here too for the next several months.\"\n\n\n \"How does a qualified spaceman happen to be marooned?\"\n\n\n \"I'm with Fireball, was on the\nDrake\n—heard of what happened to her?\"\n\n\n Bo nodded, for every spaceman knows exactly what every spaceship is\n doing at any given time. The\nDrake\nhad come to Achilles to pick up\n a cargo of refined thorium for Earth; while she lay in orbit, she had\n somehow lost a few hundred pounds of reaction-mass water from a cracked\n gasket. Why the accident should have occurred, nobody knew ... spacemen\n were not careless about inspections, and what reason would anyone have\n for sabotage? The event had taken place about a month ago, when the\nSirius\nwas already enroute here; Bo had heard of it in the course of\n shop talk.\n\n\n \"I thought she went back anyway,\" he said.\n\n\n Lundgard nodded. \"She did. It was the usual question of economics.\n You know what refined fuel water costs in the Belt; also, the delay\n while we got it would have carried Earth and Achilles past optimum\n position, which'd make the trip home that much more expensive. Since we\n had one more man aboard than really required, it was cheaper to leave\n him behind; the difference in mass would make up for the fuel loss. I\n volunteered, even suggested the idea, because ... well, it happened\n during my watch, and even if nobody blamed me I couldn't help feeling\n guilty.\"\n\n\n Bo understood that kind of loyalty. You couldn't travel space without\n men who had it.\n\n\n \"The Company beamed a message: I'd stay here till their schedule\n permitted an undermanned ship to come by, but that wouldn't be for\n maybe months,\" went on Lundgard. \"I can't see sitting on this lump that\n long without so much as a chance at planetfall bonus. If you'll take me\n on, I'm sure the Company will agree; I'll get a message to them on the\n beam right away.\"\n\n\n \"Take us a while to get back,\" warned Bo. \"We're going to stop off at\n another asteroid to pick up some automatic equipment, and won't go into\n hyperbolic orbit till after that. About six weeks from here to Earth,\n all told.\"\n\n\n \"Against six months here?\" Lundgard laughed; it emphasized the bright\n charm of his manner. \"Sunblaze. I'll work for free.\"\n\n\n \"No need to. Bring your papers over tomorrow, huh?\"\n\n\n The certificate and record were perfectly in order, showing Einar\n Lundgard to be a Spacetech 1/cl with eight years' experience,\n qualified as engineer, astronaut, pilot, and any other of the thousand\n professions which have run into one. They registered articles and shook\n hands on it. \"Call me Bo. It really is my name ... Swedish.\"\n\n\n \"Another squarehead, eh?\" grinned Lundgard. \"I'm from South America\n myself.\"\n\n\n \"Notice a year's gap here,\" said Bo, pointing to the service record.\n \"On Venus.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes. I had some fool idea about settling but soon learned better.\n I tried to farm, but when you have to carve your own land out of\n howling desert—Well, let's start some math, shall we?\"\n\n\n They were lucky, not having to wait their turn at the station computer;\n no other ship was leaving immediately. They fed it the data and\n requirements, and got back columns of numbers: fuel requirements,\n acceleration times, orbital elements. The figures always had to be\n modified, no trip ever turned out just as predicted, but that could be\n done when needed with a slipstick and the little ship's calculator.\n\n\n Bo went at his share of the job doggedly, checking and re-checking\n before giving the problem to the machine; Lundgard breezed through it\n and spent his time while waiting for Bo in swapping dirty limericks\n with the tech. He had some good ones.\n\n\n The\nSirius\nwas loaded, inspected, and cleared. A \"scooter\" brought\n her three passengers up to her orbit, they embarked, settled down, and\n waited. At the proper time, acceleration jammed them back in a thunder\n of rockets.\n\n\n Bo relaxed against the thrust, thinking of Achilles falling away behind\n them. \"So long,\" he whispered. \"So long, Johnny.\"\nIII\n\n\n In another minute, he would be knotted and screaming from the bends,\n and a couple of minutes later he would be dead.\n\n\n Bo clamped his teeth together, as if he would grip consciousness in\n his jaws. His hands felt cold and heavy, the hands of a stranger, as\n he fumbled for the supply pouch. It seemed to recede from him, down a\n hollow infinite corridor where echoes talked in a language he did not\n know.\n\n\n \"Damn,\" he gasped. \"Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.\"\n\n\n He got the pouch open somehow. The stars wheeled around him. There\n were stars buzzing in his head, like cold white fireflies, buzzing and\n buzzing in the enormous ringing emptiness of his skull. Pain jagged\n through him, he felt his eardrums popping as pressure dropped.\n\n\n The plastic patch stuck to his metal gauntlet. He peeled it off, trying\n not to howl with the fury ripping in his nerves. His body was slow,\n inert, a thing to fight. There was no more feeling in his back, was he\n dead already?\n\n\n Redness flamed before his eyes, red like Valeria's hair blowing across\n the stars. It was sheer reflex which brought his arm around to slap the\n patch over the hole in his suit. The adhesive gripped, drying fast in\n the sucking vacuum. The patch bellied out from internal air pressure,\n straining to break loose and kill him.\n\n\n Bo's mind wavered back toward life. He opened the valves wide on his\n tanks, and his thermostatic capacitors pumped heat back into him. For\n a long time he lay there, only lungs and heart had motion. His throat\n felt withered and flayed, but the rasp of air through it was like being\n born again.\n\n\n Born, spewed out of an iron womb into a hollowness of stars and cold,\n to lie on naked rock while the enemy hunted him. Bo shuddered and\n wanted to scream again.\n\n\n Slowly he groped back toward awareness. His frostbitten back tingled\n as it warmed up again, soon it would be afire. He could feel a hot\n trickling of blood, but it was along his right side. The bullet must\n have spent most of its force punching through the armor, caromed off\n the inside, scratched his ribs, and fallen dead. Next time he probably\n wouldn't be so lucky. A magnetic-driven .30 slug would go through\n a helmet, splashing brains as it passed.\n\n\n He turned his head, feeling a great weariness, and looked at the\n gauges. This had cost him a lot of air. There was only about three\n hours worth left. Lundgard could kill him simply by waiting.\n\n\n It would be easy to die. He lay on his back, staring up at the stars\n and the spilling cloudy glory of the Milky Way. A warmth was creeping\n back into numbed hands and feet; soon he would be warm all over, and\n sleepy. His eyelids felt heavy, strange that they should be so heavy on\n an asteroid.\n\n\n He wanted terribly to sleep.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Who is the murderer for which Bo listens for footsteps?", "question_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ_1", "options": ["Johnny Malone", "A Venusian", "An unknown person", "A crewmember from Fireball"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was the murderer trying to kill Bo?", "question_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ_2", "options": ["We never find out", "He was a rival of the Sirius Transportation Company", "He was in love with Valeria ", "To get revenge for Johnny's death"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was Bo unusual compared to his colleagues?", "question_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ_3", "options": ["He was fastidious", "He was a frugal man", "He was a large man", "He loved to learn"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Achilles?", "question_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ_4", "options": ["A rowdy bar", "An asteroid near Jupiter", "An asteroid near Mars", "A dense cluster"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the dog?", "question_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ_5", "options": ["Dr. McKittrick's pet", "A tramp ship", "A transport ship", "A Venusian pet"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Johnny like the Last Chance?", "question_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ_6", "options": ["He was from Luna City", "The Guardsmen came in trios", "He could find an empty booth", "He liked wild places"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Johnny say Dr. McKittrick wasn't sociable?", "question_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ_7", "options": ["She was very intelligent", "She wasn't beautiful", "She was young", "She was too focused on her work"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Bo not want to get drunk at first but later the same night he chose to get drunk?", "question_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ_8", "options": ["At first, he didn't want the cost of hangover medication but later he was mourning Johnny's death", "At first, he wanted to find a woman but later he decided to drink beer", "At first, he didn't want to pay for alcohol but later he was mourning Johnny's death", "At first, he was focused on his work but later he was feeling lonesome"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Lundgard not ride home on his original ship?", "question_unique_id": "63633_TE8SMQXZ_9", "options": ["He wanted to settle down and try farming", "He wanted to stay for another 6 months", "He offered to stay behind because he felt responsible for their problems", "He was left behind because he was careless about inspections"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/3/63633//63633-h//63633-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63473", "set_unique_id": "63473_IMAZR7FI", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Dust Unto Dust", "year": 1964, "author": "Hinckley, Lyman D.", "topic": "Extinct cities -- Fiction; PS; Outer space -- Exploration -- Fiction; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "DUST UNTO DUST\nBy LYMAN D. HINCKLEY\nIt was alien but was it dead, this towering, sinister\n\n city of metal that glittered malignantly before the\n\n cautious advance of three awed space-scouters.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nMartin set the lifeboat down carefully, with all the attention one\n usually exercises in a situation where the totally unexpected has\n occurred, and he and his two companions sat and stared in awed silence\n at the city a quarter-mile away.\n\n\n He saw the dull, black walls of buildings shouldering grimly into the\n twilight sky, saw the sheared edge where the metal city ended and the\n barren earth began ... and he remembered observing, even before they\n landed, the too-strict geometry imposed on the entire construction.\n\n\n He frowned. The first impression was ... malignant.\n\n\n Wass, blond and slight, with enough nose for three or four men,\n unbuckled his safety belt and stood up. \"Shall we, gentlemen?\" and with\n a graceful movement of hand and arm he indicated the waiting city.\n\n\n Martin led Wass, and the gangling, scarecrow-like Rodney, through the\n stillness overlaying the barren ground. There was only the twilight\n sky, and harsh and black against it, the convoluted earth. And the\n city. Malignant. He wondered, again, what beings would choose to build\n a city—even a city like this one—in such surroundings.\n\n\n The men from the ship knew only the surface facts about this waiting\n geometric discovery. Theirs was the eleventh inter-planetary flight,\n and the previous ten, in the time allowed them for exploration while\n this planet was still close enough to their own to permit a safe return\n in their ships, had not spotted the city. But the eleventh expedition\n had, an hour ago, with just thirteen hours left during which a return\n flight could be safely started. So far as was known, this was the only\n city on the planet—the planet without any life at all, save tiny\n mosses, for a million years or more. And no matter which direction from\n the city a man moved, he would always be going north.\n\n\n \"Hey, Martin!\" Rodney called through his helmet radio. Martin paused.\n \"Wind,\" Rodney said, coming abreast of him. He glanced toward the black\n pile, as if sharing Martin's thoughts. \"That's all we need, isn't it?\"\n\n\n Martin looked at the semi-transparent figures of wind and dust\n cavorting in the distance, moving toward them. He grinned a little,\n adjusting his radio. \"Worried?\"\n\n\n Rodney's bony face was without expression. \"Gives me the creeps, kind\n of. I wonder what they were like?\"\n\n\n Wass murmured, \"Let us hope they aren't immortal.\"\n\n\n Three feet from the edge of the city Martin stopped and stubbed at the\n sand with the toe of his boot, clearing earth from part of a shining\n metal band.\n\n\n Wass watched him, and then shoved aside more sand, several feet away.\n \"It's here, too.\"\n\n\n Martin stood up. \"Let's try farther on. Rodney, radio the ship, tell\n them we're going in.\"\n\n\n Rodney nodded.\n\n\n After a time, Wass said, \"Here, too. How far do you think it goes?\"\n\n\n Martin shrugged. \"Clear around the city? I'd like to know what it\n is—was—for.\"\n\n\n \"Defense,\" Rodney, several yards behind, suggested.\n\n\n \"Could be,\" Martin said. \"Let's go in.\"\n\n\n The three crossed the metal band and walked abreast down a street,\n their broad soft soled boots making no sound on the dull metal. They\n passed doors and arches and windows and separate buildings. They moved\n cautiously across five intersections. And they stood in a square\n surrounded by the tallest buildings in the city.\n\n\n Rodney broke the silence, hesitantly. \"Not—not very big. Is it?\"\n\n\n Wass looked at him shrewdly. \"Neither were the—well, shall we call\n them, people? Have you noticed how low everything is?\"\n\n\n Rodney's laughter rose, too. Then, sobering—\"Maybe they crawled.\"\n\n\n A nebulous image, product of childhood's vivid imagination, moved\n slowly across Martin's mind. \"All right!\" he rapped out—and the image\n faded.\n\n\n \"Sorry,\" Rodney murmured, his throat working beneath his lantern jaw.\n Then—\"I wonder what it's like here in the winter when there's no light\n at all?\"\n\n\n \"I imagine they had illumination of some sort,\" Martin answered, dryly.\n \"If we don't hurry up and get through this place and back to the ship,\n we're very likely to find out.\"\n\n\n Rodney said quickly, \"I mean outside.\"\n\n\n \"Out there, too, Rodney, they must have had illumination.\" Martin\n looked back along the straight, metal street they'd walked on, and past\n that out over the bleak, furrowed slopes where the ship's lifeboat\n lay ... and he thought everything outside the city seemed, somehow,\n from here, a little dim, a little hazy.\n\n\n He straightened his shoulders. The city was alien, of course, and that\n explained most of it ... most of it. But he felt the black city was\n something familiar, yet twisted and distorted.\n\n\n \"Well,\" Wass said, his nose wrinkling a bit, \"now that we're here....\"\n\n\n \"Pictures,\" Martin decided. \"We have twelve hours. We'll start here.\n What's the matter, Wass?\"\n\n\n The blond man grinned ruefully. \"I left the camera in the lifeboat.\"\n There was a pause. Then Wass, defensively—\"It's almost as if the city\n didn't want to be photographed.\"\n\n\n Martin ignored the remark. \"Go get it. Rodney and I will be somewhere\n along this street.\"\n\n\n Wass turned away. Martin and Rodney started slowly down the wide metal\n street, at right angles to their path of entrance.\n\n\n Again Martin felt a tug of twisted, distorted familiarity. It was\n almost as if ... they were human up to a certain point, the point\n being, perhaps, some part of their minds.... Alien things, dark and\n subtle, things no man could ever comprehend.\n\n\n Parallel evolution on two inner planets of the same system? Somewhere,\n sometime, a common ancestor? Martin noted the shoulder-high doors, the\n heavier gravity, remembered the inhabitants of the city vanished before\n the thing that was to become man ever emerged from the slime, and he\n decided to grin at himself, at his own imagination.\n\n\n Rodney jerked his scarecrow length about quickly, and a chill sped up\n Martin's spine. \"What's the matter?\"\n\n\n The bony face was white, the gray eyes were wide. \"I saw—I thought I\n saw—something—moving—\"\n\n\n Anger rose in Martin. \"You didn't,\" he said flatly, gripping the\n other's shoulder cruelly. \"You couldn't have. Get hold of yourself,\n man!\"\n\n\n Rodney stared. \"The wind. Remember? There isn't any, here.\"\n\n\n \"... How could there be? The buildings protect us now. It was blowing\n from the other direction.\"\n\n\n Rodney wrenched free of Martin's grip. He gestured wildly. \"That—\"\n\n\n \"Martin!\" Wass' voice came through the receivers in both their radios.\n \"Martin, I can't get out!\"\nRodney mumbled something, and Martin told him to shut up.\n\n\n Wass said, more quietly, \"Remember that metal band? It's all clear now,\n and glittering, as far as I can see. I can't get across it; it's like a\n glass wall.\"\n\n\n \"We're trapped, we're trapped, they are—\"\n\n\n \"Shut up, Rodney! Wass, I'm only two sections from the edge. I'll check\n here.\"\n\n\n Martin clapped a hand on Rodney's shoulder again, starting him moving,\n toward the city's edge, past the black, silent buildings.\n\n\n The glittering band was here, too, like a halo around a silhouette.\n\n\n \"No go,\" Martin said to Wass. He bit at his lower lip. \"I think it must\n be all around us.\" He was silent for a time, exploring the consequences\n of this. Then—\"We'll meet you in the middle of the city, where we\n separated.\"\n\n\n Walking with Rodney, Martin heard Wass' voice, flat and metallic\n through the radio receiver against his ear. \"What do you suppose caused\n this?\"\n\n\n He shook his head angrily, saying, \"Judging by reports of the rest of\n the planet, it must have been horribly radioactive at one time. All of\n it.\"\n\n\n \"Man-made radiation, you mean.\"\n\n\n Martin grinned faintly. Wass, too, had an active imagination. \"Well,\n alien-made, anyhow. Perhaps they had a war.\"\n\n\n Wass' voice sounded startled. \"Anti-radiation screen?\"\n\n\n Rodney interrupted, \"There hasn't been enough radiation around here for\n hundreds of thousands of years to activate such a screen.\"\n\n\n Wass said coldly, \"He's right, Martin.\"\n\n\n Martin crossed an intersection, Rodney slightly behind him. \"You're\n both wrong,\" he said. \"We landed here today.\"\n\n\n Rodney stopped in the middle of the metal street and stared down at\n Martin. \"The wind—?\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"That would explain why it stopped so suddenly, then.\" Rodney stood\n straighter. When he walked again, his steps were firmer.\n\n\n They reached the center of the city, ahead of the small, slight Wass,\n and stood watching him labor along the metal toward them.\n\n\n Wass' face, Martin saw, was sober. \"I tried to call the ship. No luck.\"\n\n\n \"The shield?\"\n\n\n Wass nodded. \"What else?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know—\"\n\n\n \"If we went to the roof of the tallest building,\" Rodney offered, \"we\n might—\"\n\n\n Martin shook his head. \"No. To be effective, the shield would have to\n cover the city.\"\n\n\n Wass stared down at the metal street, as if he could look through it.\n \"I wonder where it gets its power?\"\n\n\n \"Down below, probably. If there is a down below.\" Martin hesitated. \"We\n may have to....\"\n\n\n \"What?\" Rodney prompted.\n\n\n Martin shrugged. \"Let's look.\"\n\n\n He led the way through a shoulder-high arch in one of the tall\n buildings surrounding the square. The corridor inside was dim and\n plain, and he switched on his flashlight, the other two immediately\n following his example. The walls and the rounded ceiling of the\n corridor were of the same dull metal as the buildings' facades, and\n the streets. There were a multitude of doors and arches set into\n either side of the corridor.\n\n\n It was rather like ... entering a gigantic metal beehive.\n\n\n Martin chose an arch, with beyond it a metal ramp, which tilted\n downward, gleaming in the pale circle of his torch.\n\n\n A call from Rodney halted him. \"Back here,\" the tall man repeated. \"It\n looks like a switchboard.\"\n\n\n The three advanced to the end of the central corridor, pausing before a\n great arch, outlined in the too-careful geometrical figures Martin had\n come to associate with the city builders. The three torches, shining\n through the arch, picked out a bank of buttons, handles ... and a thick\n rope of cables which ran upward to vanish unexpectedly in the metal\n roof.\n\n\n \"Is this it,\" Wass murmured, \"or an auxiliary?\"\n\n\n Martin shrugged. \"The whole city's no more than a machine, apparently.\"\n\n\n \"Another assumption,\" Wass said. \"We have done nothing but make\n assumptions ever since we got here.\"\n\n\n \"What would you suggest, instead?\" Martin asked calmly.\n\n\n Rodney furtively, extended one hand toward a switch.\n\n\n \"No!\" Martin said, sharply. That was one assumption they dared not make.\n\n\n Rodney turned. \"But—\"\n\n\n \"No. Wass, how much time have we?\"\n\n\n \"The ship leaves in eleven hours.\"\n\n\n \"Eleven hours,\" Rodney repeated. \"Eleven hours!\" He reached out for the\n switch again. Martin swore, stepped forward, pulled him back roughly.\n\n\n He directed his flashlight at Rodney's thin, pale face. \"What do you\n think you're doing?\"\n\n\n \"We have to find out what all this stuff's for!\"\n\n\n \"Going at it blindly, we'd probably execute ourselves.\"\n\n\n \"We've got to—\"\n\n\n \"No!\" Then, more quietly—\"We still have eleven hours to find a way\n out.\"\n\n\n \"Ten hours and forty-five minutes,\" Wass disagreed softly. \"Minus the\n time it takes us to get to the lifeboat, fly to the ship, land, stow\n it, get ourselves aboard, and get the big ship away from the planet.\n And Captain Morgan can't wait for us, Martin.\"\n\n\n \"You too, Wass?\"\n\n\n \"Up to the point of accuracy, yes.\"\n\n\n Martin said, \"Not necessarily. You go the way the wind does, always\n thinking of your own tender hide, of course.\"\n\n\n Rodney cursed. \"And every second we stand here doing nothing gives us\n that much less time to find a way out. Martin—\"\n\n\n \"Make one move toward that switchboard and I'll stop you where you\n stand!\"\nWass moved silently through the darkness beyond the torches. \"We all\n have guns, Martin.\"\n\n\n \"I'm holding mine.\" Martin waited.\n\n\n After a moment, Wass switched his flashlight back on. He said quietly,\n \"He's right, Rodney. It would be sure death to monkey around in here.\"\n\n\n \"Well....\" Rodney turned quickly toward the black arch. \"Let's get out\n of here, then!\"\n\n\n Martin hung back waiting for the others to go ahead of him down the\n metal hall. At the other arch, where the ramp led downward, he called a\n halt. \"If the dome, or whatever it is, is a radiation screen there must\n be at least half-a-dozen emergency exits around the city.\"\n\n\n Rodney said, \"To search every building next to the dome clean around\n the city would take years.\"\n\n\n Martin nodded. \"But there must be central roads beneath this main level\n leading to them. Up here there are too many roads.\"\n\n\n Wass laughed rudely.\n\n\n \"Have you a better idea?\"\n\n\n Wass ignored that, as Martin hoped he would. He said slowly, \"That\n leads to another idea. If the band around the city is responsible for\n the dome, does it project down into the ground as well?\"\n\n\n \"You mean\ndig\nout?\" Martin asked.\n\n\n \"Sure. Why not?\"\n\n\n \"We're wearing heavy suits and bulky breathing units. We have no\n equipment.\"\n\n\n \"That shouldn't be hard to come by.\"\n\n\n Martin smiled, banishing Wass' idea.\n\n\n Rodney said, \"They may have had their digging equipment built right in\n to themselves.\"\n\n\n \"Anyway,\" Martin decided, \"we can take a look down below.\"\n\n\n \"In the pitch dark,\" Wass added.\n\n\n Martin adjusted his torch, began to lead the way down the metal ramp.\n The incline was gentle, apparently constructed for legs shorter, feet\n perhaps less broad than their own. The metal, without mark of any sort,\n gleamed under the combined light of the torches, unrolling out of the\n darkness before the men.\n\n\n At length the incline melted smoothly into the next level of the city.\n\n\n Martin shined his light upward, and the others followed his example.\n Metal as smooth and featureless as that on which they stood shone down\n on them.\n\n\n Wass turned his light parallel with the floor, and then moved slowly in\n a circle. \"No supports. No supports anywhere. What keeps all that up\n there?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know. I have no idea.\" Martin gestured toward the ramp with\n his light. \"Does all this, this whole place, look at all familiar to\n you?\"\n\n\n Rodney's gulp was clearly audible through the radio receivers. \"Here?\"\n\n\n \"No, no,\" Martin answered impatiently, \"not just here. I mean the whole\n city.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Wass said dryly, \"it does. I'm sure this is where all my\n nightmares stay when they're not on shift.\"\n\n\n Martin turned on his heel and started down a metal avenue which, he\n thought, paralleled the street above. And Rodney and Wass followed him\n silently. They moved along the metal, past unfamiliar shapes made more\n so by gloom and moving shadows, past doors dancing grotesquely in the\n three lights, past openings in the occasional high metal partitions,\n past something which was perhaps a conveyor belt, past another\n something which could have been anything at all.\n\n\n The metal street ended eventually in a blank metal wall.\n\n\n The edge of the city—the city which was a dome of force above and a\n bowl of metal below.\n\n\n After a long time, Wass sighed. \"Well, skipper...?\"\n\n\n \"We go back, I guess,\" Martin said.\n\n\n Rodney turned swiftly to face him. Martin thought the tall man was\n holding his gun. \"To the switchboard, Martin?\"\n\n\n \"Unless someone has a better idea,\" Martin conceded. He waited. But\n Rodney was holding the gun ... and Wass was.... Then—\"I can't think of\n anything else.\"\n\n\n They began to retrace their steps along the metal street, back past\n the same dancing shapes of metal, the partitions, the odd windows, all\n looking different now in the new angles of illumination.\n\n\n Martin was in the lead. Wass followed him silently. Rodney, tall,\n matchstick thin, even in his cumbersome suit, swayed with jaunty\n triumph in the rear.\n\n\n Martin looked at the metal street lined with its metal objects and he\n sighed. He remembered how the dark buildings of the city looked at\n surface level, how the city itself looked when they were landing, and\n then when they were walking toward it. The dream was gone again for\n now. Idealism died in him, again and again, yet it was always reborn.\n But—The only city, so far as anyone knew, on the first planet they'd\n ever explored. And it had to be like this. Nightmares, Wass said, and\n Martin thought perhaps the city was built by a race of beings who at\n some point twisted away from their evolutionary spiral, plagued by a\n sort of racial insanity.\n\n\n No, Martin thought, shaking his head. No, that couldn't be.\n Viewpoint ... his viewpoint. It was the haunting sense of familiarity,\n a faint strain through all this broad jumble, the junkpile of alien\n metal, which was making him theorize so wildly.\n\n\n Then Wass touched his elbow. \"Look there, Martin. Left of the ramp.\"\n\n\n Light from their torches was reflected, as from glass.\n\n\n \"All right,\" Rodney said belligerently into his radio. \"What's holding\n up the procession?\"\n\n\n Martin was silent.\n\n\n Wass undertook to explain. Why not, after all? Martin asked himself. It\n was in Wass' own interest. In a moment, all three were standing before\n a bank of glass cases which stretched off into the distance as far as\n the combined light of their torches would reach.\n\n\n \"Seeds!\" Wass exclaimed, his faceplate pressed against the glass.\n\n\n Martin blinked. He thought how little time they had. He wet his lips.\n\n\n Wass' gloved hands fumbled awkwardly at a catch in the nearest section\n of the bank.\n\n\n Martin thought of the dark, convoluted land outside the city. If they\n wouldn't grow there.... Or had they, once? \"Don't, Wass!\"\n\n\n Torchlight reflected from Wass' faceplate as he turned his head. \"Why\n not?\"\n\n\n They were like children.... \"We don't know, released, what they'll do.\"\n\n\n \"Skipper,\" Wass said carefully, \"if we don't get out of this place by\n the deadline we may be eating these.\"\n\n\n Martin raised his arm tensely. \"Opening a seed bank doesn't help us\n find a way out of here.\" He started up the ramp. \"Besides, we've no\n water.\"\n\n\n Rodney came last up the ramp, less jaunty now, but still holding the\n gun. His mind, too, was taken up with childhood's imaginings. \"For\n a plant to grow in this environment, it wouldn't need much water.\n Maybe—\" he had a vision of evil plants attacking them, growing with\n super-swiftness at the air valves and joints of their suits \"—only the\n little moisture in the atmosphere.\"\nThey stood before the switchboard again. Martin and Wass side by side,\n Rodney, still holding his gun, slightly to the rear.\n\n\n Rodney moved forward a little toward the switches. His breathing was\n loud and rather uneven in the radio receivers.\n\n\n Martin made a final effort. \"Rodney, it's still almost nine hours to\n take off. Let's search awhile first. Let this be a last resort.\"\n\n\n Rodney jerked his head negatively. \"No. Now, I know you, Martin.\n Postpone and postpone until it's too late, and the ship leaves without\n us and we're stranded here to eat seeds and gradually dehydrate\n ourselves and God only knows what else and—\"\n\n\n He reached out convulsively and yanked a switch.\n\n\n Martin leaped, knocking him to the floor. Rodney's gun skittered away\n silently, like a live thing, out of the range of the torches.\n\n\n The radio receivers impersonally recorded the grating sounds of\n Rodney's sobs.\n\n\n \"Sorry,\" Martin said, without feeling. He turned quickly. \"Wass?\"\n\n\n The slight, blond man stood unmoving. \"I'm with you, Martin, but, as\n a last resort it might be better to be blown sky high than to die\n gradually—\"\n\n\n Martin was watching Rodney, struggling to get up. \"I agree. As a last\n resort. We still have a little time.\"\n\n\n Rodney's tall, spare figure looked bowed and tired in the torchlight,\n now that he was up again. \"Martin, I—\"\n\n\n Martin turned his back. \"Skip it, Rodney,\" he said gently.\n\n\n \"Water,\" Wass said thoughtfully. \"There must be reservoirs under this\n city somewhere.\"\n\n\n Rodney said, \"How does water help us get out?\"\n\n\n Martin glanced at Wass, then started out of the switchboard room, not\n looking back. \"It got in and out of the city some way. Perhaps we can\n leave the same way.\"\n\n\n Down the ramp again.\n\n\n \"There's another ramp,\" Wass murmured.\n\n\n Rodney looked down it. \"I wonder how many there are, all told.\"\n\n\n Martin placed one foot on the metal incline. He angled his torch down,\n picking out shadowy, geometrical shapes, duplicates of the ones on the\n present level. \"We'll find out,\" he said, \"how many there are.\"\n\n\n Eleven levels later Rodney asked, \"How much time have we now?\"\n\n\n \"Seven hours,\" Wass said quietly, \"until take-off.\"\n\n\n \"One more level,\" Martin said, ignoring the reference to time. \"I ...\n think it's the last.\"\n\n\n They walked down the ramp and stood together, silent in a dim pool of\n artificial light on the bottom level of the alien city.\n\n\n Rodney played his torch about the metal figures carefully placed about\n the floor. \"Martin, what if there are no reservoirs? What if there are\n cemeteries instead? Or cold storage units? Maybe the switch I pulled—\"\n\n\n \"Rodney! Stop it!\"\n\n\n Rodney swallowed audibly. \"This place scares me....\"\n\n\n \"The first time I was ever in a rocket, it scared me. I was thirteen.\"\n\n\n \"This is different,\" Wass said. \"Built-in traps—\"\n\n\n \"They had a war,\" Martin said.\n\n\n Wass agreed. \"And the survivors retired here. Why?\"\n\n\n Martin said, \"They wanted to rebuild. Or maybe this was already built\n before the war as a retreat.\" He turned impatiently. \"How should I\n know?\"\n\n\n Wass turned, too, persistent. \"But the planet was through with them.\"\n\n\n \"In a minute,\" Martin said, too irritably, \"we'll have a sentient\n planet.\" From the corner of his eye he saw Rodney start at that. \"Knock\n it off, Wass. We're looking for reservoirs, you know.\"\n\n\n They moved slowly down the metal avenue, between the twisted shadow\n shapes, looking carefully about them.\n\n\n Rodney paused. \"We might not recognize one.\"\n\n\n Martin urged him on. \"You know what a man-hole cover looks like.\" He\n added dryly, \"Use your imagination.\"\n\n\n They reached the metal wall at the end of the avenue and paused again,\n uncertain.\n\n\n Martin swung his flashlight, illuminating the distorted metal shapes.\n\n\n Wass said, \"All this had a purpose, once....\"\n\n\n \"We'll disperse and search carefully,\" Martin said.\n\n\n \"I wonder what the pattern was.\"\n\n\n \"... The reservoirs, Wass. The pattern will still be here for later\n expeditions to study. So will we if we don't find a way to get out.\"\n\n\n Their radios recorded Rodney's gasp. Then—\"Martin! Martin! I think\n I've found something!\"\n\n\n Martin began to run. After a moment's hesitation, Wass swung in behind\n him.\n\n\n \"Here,\" Rodney said, as they came up to him, out of breath. \"Here. See?\n Right here.\"\n\n\n Three flashlights centered on a dark, metal disk raised a foot or more\n from the floor.\n\n\n \"Well, they had hands.\" With his torch Wass indicated a small wheel of\n the same metal as everything else in the city, set beside the disk.\n\n\n From its design Martin assumed that the disk was meant to be grasped\n and turned. He wondered what precisely they were standing over.\n\n\n \"Well, Skipper, are you going to do the honors?\"\n\n\n Martin kneeled, grasped the wheel. It turned easily—almost too\n easily—rotating the disk as it turned.\n\n\n Suddenly, without a sound, the disk rose, like a hatch, on a concealed\n hinge.\n\n\n The three men, clad in their suits and helmets, grouped around the\n six-foot opening, shining their torches down into the thing that\n drifted and eddied directly beneath them.\n\n\n Rodney's sudden grip on Martin's wrist nearly shattered the bone.\n \"Martin! It's all alive! It's moving!\"\n\n\n Martin hesitated long enough for a coil to move sinuously up toward the\n opening. Then he spun the wheel and the hatch slammed down.\n\n\n He was shaking.\nAfter a time he said, \"Rodney, Wass, it's dust, down there. Remember\n the wind? Air currents are moving it.\"\n\n\n Rodney sat down on the metal flooring. For a long time he said nothing.\n Then—\"It wasn't.... Why did you close the hatch then?\"\n\n\n Martin did not say he thought the other two would have shot him,\n otherwise. He said merely, \"At first I wasn't sure myself.\"\n\n\n Rodney stood up, backing away from the closed hatch. He held his gun\n loosely, and his hand shook. \"Then prove it. Open it again.\"\n\n\n Martin went to the wheel. He noticed Wass was standing behind Rodney\n and he, too, had drawn his gun.\n\n\n The hatch rose again at Martin's direction. He stood beside it,\n outlined in the light of two torches.\n\n\n For a little while he was alone.\n\n\n Then—causing a gasp from Wass, a harsh expletive from Rodney—a\n tenuous, questing alien limb edged through the hatch, curling about\n Martin, sparkling in ten thousand separate particles in the torchlight,\n obscuring the dimly seen backdrop of geometrical processions of strange\n objects.\nMartin raised an arm, and the particles swirled in stately, shimmering\n spirals.\n\n\n Rodney leaned forward and looked over the edge of the hatch. He said\n nothing. He eyed the sparkling particles swirling about Martin, and\n now, himself.\n\n\n \"How deep,\" Wass said, from his safe distance.\n\n\n \"We'll have to lower a flashlight,\" Martin answered.\n\n\n Rodney, all eagerness to be of assistance now, lowered a rope with a\n torch swinging wildly on the end of it.\n\n\n The torch came to rest about thirty feet down. It shone on gently\n rolling mounds of fine, white stuff.\n\n\n Martin anchored the rope soundly, and paused, half across the lip\n of the hatch to stare coldly at Wass. \"You'd rather monkey with the\n switches and blow yourself to smithereens?\"\n\n\n Wass sighed and refused to meet Martin's gaze. Martin looked at him\n disgustedly, and then began to descend the rope, slowly, peering into\n the infinite, sparkling darkness pressing around him. At the bottom\n of the rope he sank to his knees in dust, and then was held even. He\n stamped his feet, and then, as well as he was able, did a standing\n jump. He sank no farther than his knees.\n\n\n He sighted a path parallel with the avenue above, toward the nearest\n edge of the city. \"I think we'll be all right,\" he called out, \"as long\n as we avoid the drifts.\"\n\n\n Rodney began the descent. Looking up, Martin saw Wass above Rodney.\n\n\n \"All right, Wass,\" Martin said quietly, as Rodney released the rope and\n sank into the dust.\n\n\n \"Not me,\" the answer came back quickly. \"You two fools go your way,\n I'll go mine.\"\n\n\n \"Wass!\"\n\n\n There was no answer. The light faded swiftly away from the opening.\n\n\n The going was hard. The dust clung like honey to their feet, and eddied\n and swirled about them until the purifying systems in their suits were\n hard-pressed to remove the fine stuff working in at joints and valves.\n\n\n \"Are we going straight?\" Rodney asked.\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Martin growled.\n\n\n There was silence again, the silence of almost-exhausted determination.\n The two men lifted their feet out of the dust, and then laboriously\n plunged forward, to sink again to the knees, repeated the act, times\n without number.\n\n\n Then Wass broke his silence, taunting. \"The ship leaves in two hours,\n Martin. Two hours. Hear me, Rodney?\"\n\n\n Martin pulled his left foot from the sand and growled deep in his\n throat. Ahead, through the confusing patterns of the sparkling dust,\n his flashlight gleamed against metal. He grabbed Rodney's arm, pointed.\n\n\n A grate.\n\n\n Rodney stared. \"Wass!\" he shouted. \"We've found a way out!\"\n\n\n Their radios recorded Wass' laughter. \"I'm at the switchboard now,\n Martin. I—\"\n\n\n There was a tinkle of breaking glass, breaking faceplate.\n\n\n The grate groaned upward and stopped.\n\n\n Wass babbled incoherently into the radio for a moment, and then he\n began to scream.\n\n\n Martin switched off his radio, sick.\n\n\n He turned it on again when they reached the opening in the metal wall.\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"I've been trying to get you,\" Rodney said, frantically. \"Why didn't\n you answer?\"\n\n\n \"We couldn't do anything for him.\"\n\n\n Rodney's face was white and drawn. \"But he did this for us.\"\n\n\n \"So he did,\" Martin said, very quietly.\n\n\n Rodney said nothing.\n\n\n Then Martin said, \"Did you listen until the end?\"\n\n\n Rodney nodded, jerkily. \"He pulled three more switches. I couldn't\n understand it all. But—Martin, dying alone like that in a place like\n this—!\"\n\n\n Martin crawled into the circular pipe behind the grate. It tilted up\n toward the surface. \"Come on, Rodney. Last lap.\"\n\n\n An hour later they surfaced about two hundred yards away from the\n edge of the city. Behind them the black pile rose, the dome of force\n shimmering, almost invisible, about it.\n\n\n Ahead of them were the other two scoutships from the mother ship.\n Martin called out faintly, pulling Rodney out of the pipe. Crew members\n standing by the scoutships, and at the edge of the city, began to run\n toward them.\n\n\n \"Radio picked you up as soon as you entered the pipe,\" someone said. It\n was the last thing Martin heard before he collapsed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Where was the city located?", "question_unique_id": "63473_IMAZR7FI_1", "options": ["At the equator", "The location is not disclosed", "At the north pole", "At the south pole"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How much time passed between the discovery of the city and Wass activating the switchboard?", "question_unique_id": "63473_IMAZR7FI_2", "options": ["13 hours", "10 hours", "12 hours", "11 hours"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the crew discover the shield?", "question_unique_id": "63473_IMAZR7FI_3", "options": ["They went to the roof of the tallest building", "Wass tried to cross to retrieve forgotten equipment", "Martin and Rodney tried to move past the city's edge", "They activated it using the switchboard"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Martin smile?", "question_unique_id": "63473_IMAZR7FI_4", "options": ["He felt amused picturing the aliens crawling everywhere they went", "He felt silly imagining the aliens were man's ancestors", "He felt happy to be exploring the city", "He felt rueful that he left the camera in the lifeboat"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many times did Martin open the hatch?", "question_unique_id": "63473_IMAZR7FI_5", "options": ["1", "0", "2", "3"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Martin feel sick when they were able to escape?", "question_unique_id": "63473_IMAZR7FI_6", "options": ["He knew Wass had sacrificed his life", "The black city disturbed him", "He had to crawl for an hour through a pipe", "He saw Rodney was upset"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/4/7/63473//63473-h//63473-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61434", "set_unique_id": "61434_C4DV5MOT", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Mightiest Qorn", "year": 1955, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "PS; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Short stories; Diplomats -- Fiction; Science fiction; Retief (Fictitious character) -- Fiction", "article": "MIGHTIEST QORN\nBY KEITH LAUMER\nSly, brave and truculent, the Qornt\n\n held all humans in contempt—except one!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, July 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nI\n\n\n Ambassador Nitworth glowered across his mirror-polished, nine-foot\n platinum desk at his assembled staff.\n\n\n \"Gentlemen, are any of you familiar with a race known as the Qornt?\"\n\n\n There was a moment of profound silence. Nitworth leaned forward,\n looking solemn.\n\n\n \"They were a warlike race known in this sector back in Concordiat\n times, perhaps two hundred years ago. They vanished as suddenly as\n they had appeared. There was no record of where they went.\" He paused\n for effect.\n\n\n \"They have now reappeared—occupying the inner planet of this system!\"\n\n\n \"But, sir,\" Second Secretary Magnan offered. \"That's uninhabited\n Terrestrial territory....\"\n\n\n \"Indeed, Mr. Magnan?\" Nitworth smiled icily. \"It appears the Qornt do\n not share that opinion.\" He plucked a heavy parchment from a folder\n before him, harrumphed and read aloud:\n\n\n His Supreme Excellency The Qorn, Regent of Qornt, Over-Lord of the\n Galactic Destiny, Greets the Terrestrials and, with reference to the\n presence in mandated territory of Terrestrial squatters, has the honor\n to advise that he will require the use of his outer world on the\n thirtieth day. Then will the Qornt come with steel and fire. Receive,\n Terrestrials, renewed assurances of my awareness of your existence,\n and let Those who dare gird for the contest.\n\n\n \"Frankly, I wouldn't call it conciliatory,\" Magnan said.\n\n\n Nitworth tapped the paper with a finger.\n\n\n \"We have been served, gentlemen, with nothing less than an Ultimatum!\"\n\n\n \"Well, we'll soon straighten these fellows out—\" the Military Attache\n began.\n\n\n \"There happens to be more to this piece of truculence than appears on\n the surface,\" the Ambassador cut in. He paused, waiting for interested\n frowns to settle into place.\n\n\n \"Note, gentlemen, that these invaders have appeared on terrestrial\n controlled soil—and without so much as a flicker from the instruments\n of the Navigational Monitor Service!\"\n\n\n The Military Attache blinked. \"That's absurd,\" he said flatly. Nitworth\n slapped the table.\n\n\n \"We're up against something new, gentlemen! I've considered every\n hypothesis from cloaks of invisibility to time travel! The fact is—the\n Qornt fleets are indetectible!\"\nThe Military Attache pulled at his lower lip. \"In that case, we can't\n try conclusions with these fellows until we have an indetectible drive\n of our own. I recommend a crash project. In the meantime—\"\n\n\n \"I'll have my boys start in to crack this thing,\" the Chief of the\n Confidential Terrestrial Source Section spoke up. \"I'll fit out a\n couple of volunteers with plastic beaks—\"\n\n\n \"No cloak and dagger work, gentlemen! Long range policy will be\n worked out by Deep-Think teams back at the Department. Our role will\n be a holding action. Now I want suggestions for a comprehensive,\n well rounded and decisive course for meeting this threat. Any\n recommendation?\"\n\n\n The Political Officer placed his fingertips together. \"What about a\n stiff Note demanding an extra week's time?\"\n\n\n \"No! No begging,\" the Economic Officer objected. \"I'd say a calm,\n dignified, aggressive withdrawal—as soon as possible.\"\n\n\n \"We don't want to give them the idea we spook easily,\" the Military\n Attache said. \"Let's delay the withdrawal—say, until tomorrow.\"\n\n\n \"Early tomorrow,\" Magnan said. \"Or maybe later today.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I see you're of a mind with me,\" Nitworth nodded. \"Our plan of\n action is clear, but it remains to be implemented. We have a population\n of over fifteen million individuals to relocate.\" He eyed the\n Political Officer. \"I want five proposals for resettlement on my desk\n by oh-eight-hundred hours tomorrow.\" Nitworth rapped out instructions.\n Harried-looking staff members arose and hurried from the room. Magnan\n eased toward the door.\n\n\n \"Where are you going, Magnan?\" Nitworth snapped.\n\n\n \"Since you're so busy, I thought I'd just slip back down to Com Inq. It\n was a most interesting orientation lecture, Mr. Ambassador. Be sure to\n let us know how it works out.\"\n\n\n \"Kindly return to your chair,\" Nitworth said coldly. \"A number of\n chores remain to be assigned. I think you, Magnan, need a little field\n experience. I want you to get over to Roolit I and take a look at these\n Qornt personally.\"\n\n\n Magnan's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.\n\n\n \"Not afraid of a few Qornt, are you, Magnan?\"\n\n\n \"Afraid? Good lord, no, ha ha. It's just that I'm afraid I may lose my\n head and do something rash if I go.\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense! A diplomat is immune to heroic impulses. Take Retief along.\n No dawdling, now! I want you on the way in two hours. Notify the\n transport pool at once. Now get going!\"\n\n\n Magnan nodded unhappily and went into the hall.\n\n\n \"Oh, Retief,\" Nitworth said. Retief turned.\n\n\n \"Try to restrain Mr. Magnan from any impulsive moves—in any\n direction.\"\nII\n\n\n Retief and Magnan topped a ridge and looked down across a slope\n of towering tree-shrubs and glossy violet-stemmed palms set among\n flamboyant blossoms of yellow and red, reaching down to a strip of\n white beach with the blue sea beyond.\n\n\n \"A delightful vista,\" Magnan said, mopping at his face. \"A pity we\n couldn't locate the Qornt. We'll go back now and report—\"\n\n\n \"I'm pretty sure the settlement is off to the right,\" Retief said. \"Why\n don't you head back for the boat, while I ease over and see what I can\n observe.\"\n\n\n \"Retief, we're engaged in a serious mission. This is not a time to\n think of sightseeing.\"\n\n\n \"I'd like to take a good look at what we're giving away.\"\n\n\n \"See here, Retief! One might almost receive the impression that you're\n questioning Corps policy!\"\n\n\n \"One might, at that. The Qornt have made their play, but I think it\n might be valuable to take a look at their cards before we fold. If I'm\n not back at the boat in an hour, lift without me.\"\n\n\n \"You expect me to make my way back alone?\"\n\n\n \"It's directly down-slope—\" Retief broke off, listening. Magnan\n clutched at his arm.\n\n\n There was a sound of crackling foliage. Twenty feet ahead, a leafy\n branch swung aside. An eight-foot biped stepped into view, long, thin,\n green-clad legs with back-bending knees moving in quick, bird-like\n steps. A pair of immense black-lensed goggles covered staring eyes set\n among bushy green hair above a great bone-white beak. The crest bobbed\n as the creature cocked its head, listening.\n\n\n Magnan gulped audibly. The Qornt froze, head tilted, beak aimed\n directly at the spot where the Terrestrials stood in the deep shade of\n a giant trunk.\n\n\n \"I'll go for help,\" Magnan squeaked. He whirled and took three leaps\n into the brush.\n\n\n A second great green-clad figure rose up to block his way. He spun,\n darted to the left. The first Qornt pounced, grappled Magnan to its\n narrow chest. Magnan yelled, threshing and kicking, broke free,\n turned—and collided with the eight-foot alien, coming in fast from the\n right. All three went down in a tangle of limbs.\n\n\n Retief jumped forward, hauled Magnan free, thrust him aside and\n stopped, right fist cocked. The two Qornt lay groaning feebly.\n\n\n \"Nice piece of work, Mr. Magnan,\" Retief said. \"You nailed both of\n them.\"\n\"Those undoubtedly are the most bloodthirsty, aggressive, merciless\n countenances it has ever been my misfortune to encounter,\" Magnan said.\n \"It hardly seems fair. Eight feet tall\nand\nfaces like that!\"\n\n\n The smaller of the two captive Qornt ran long, slender fingers over\n a bony shin, from which he had turned back the tight-fitting green\n trousers.\n\n\n \"It's not broken,\" he whistled nasally in passable Terrestrial, eyeing\n Magnan through the heavy goggles, now badly cracked. \"Small thanks to\n you.\"\n\n\n Magnan smiled loftily. \"I daresay you'll think twice before interfering\n with peaceable diplomats in future.\"\n\n\n \"Diplomats? Surely you jest.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind us,\" Retief said. \"It's you fellows we'd like to talk\n about. How many of you are there?\"\n\n\n \"Only Zubb and myself.\"\n\n\n \"I mean altogether. How many Qornt?\"\n\n\n The alien whistled shrilly.\n\n\n \"Here, no signalling!\" Magnan snapped, looking around.\n\n\n \"That was merely an expression of amusement.\"\n\n\n \"You find the situation amusing? I assure you, sir, you are in perilous\n straits at the moment. I\nmay\nfly into another rage, you know.\"\n\n\n \"Please, restrain yourself. I was merely somewhat astonished—\" a small\n whistle escaped—\"at being taken for a Qornt.\"\n\n\n \"Aren't you a Qornt?\"\n\n\n \"I? Great snail trails, no!\" More stifled whistles of amusement escaped\n the beaked face. \"Both Zubb and I are Verpp. Naturalists, as it\n happens.\"\n\n\n \"You certainly\nlook\nlike Qornt.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, not at all—except perhaps to a Terrestrial. The Qornt are\n sturdily built rascals, all over ten feet in height. And, of course,\n they do nothing but quarrel. A drone caste, actually.\"\n\n\n \"A caste? You mean they're biologically the same as you?\"\n\n\n \"Not at all! A Verpp wouldn't think of fertilizing a Qornt.\"\n\n\n \"I mean to say, you are of the same basic stock—descended from a\n common ancestor, perhaps.\"\n\n\n \"We are all Pud's creatures.\"\n\n\n \"What are the differences between you, then?\"\n\n\n \"Why, the Qornt are argumentive, boastful, lacking in appreciation\n for the finer things of life. One dreads to contemplate descending to\ntheir\nlevel.\"\n\n\n \"Do you know anything about a Note passed to the Terrestrial Ambassador\n at Smorbrod?\" Retief asked.\nThe beak twitched. \"Smorbrod? I know of no place called Smorbrod.\"\n\n\n \"The outer planet of this system.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes. We call it Guzzum. I had heard that some sort of creatures\n had established a settlement there, but I confess I pay little note to\n such matters.\"\n\n\n \"We're wasting time, Retief,\" Magnan said. \"We must truss these chaps\n up, hurry back to the boat and make our escape. You heard what they\n said.\"\n\n\n \"Are there any Qornt down there at the harbor, where the boats are?\"\n Retief asked.\n\n\n \"At Tarroon, you mean? Oh, yes. Planning some adventure.\"\n\n\n \"That would be the invasion of Smorbrod,\" Magnan said. \"And unless we\n hurry, Retief, we're likely to be caught there with the last of the\n evacuees!\"\n\n\n \"How many Qornt would you say there are at Tarroon?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, a very large number. Perhaps fifteen or twenty.\"\n\n\n \"Fifteen or twenty what?\" Magnan looked perplexed.\n\n\n \"Fifteen or twenty Qornt.\"\n\n\n \"You mean that there are only fifteen or twenty individual Qornt in\n all?\"\n\n\n Another whistle. \"Not at all. I was referring to the local Qornt only.\n There are more at the other Centers, of course.\"\n\n\n \"And the Qornt are responsible for the ultimatum—unilaterally?\"\n\n\n \"I suppose so; it sounds like them. A truculent group, you know. And\n interplanetary relations\nare\nrather a hobby of theirs.\"\n\n\n Zubb moaned and stirred. He sat up slowly, rubbing his head. He spoke\n to his companion in a shrill alien clatter of consonants.\n\n\n \"What did he say?\"\n\n\n \"Poor Zubb. He blames me for his bruises, since it was my idea to\n gather you as specimens.\"\n\n\n \"You should have known better than to tackle that fierce-looking\n creature,\" Zubb said, pointing his beak at Magnan.\n\n\n \"How does it happen that you speak Terrestrial?\" Retief asked.\n\n\n \"Oh, one picks up all sorts of dialects.\"\n\n\n \"It's quite charming, really,\" Magnan said. \"Such a quaint, archaic\n accent.\"\n\n\n \"Suppose we went down to Tarroon,\" Retief asked. \"What kind of\n reception would we get?\"\n\n\n \"That depends. I wouldn't recommend interfering with the Gwil or the\n Rheuk; it's their nest-mending time, you know. The Boog will be busy\n mating—such a tedious business—and of course the Qornt are tied up\n with their ceremonial feasting. I'm afraid no one will take any notice\n of you.\"\n\n\n \"Do you mean to say,\" Magnan demanded, \"that these ferocious Qornt, who\n have issued an ultimatum to the Corps Diplomatique Terrestrienne—who\n openly avow their occupied world—would ignore Terrestrials in their\n midst?\"\n\n\n \"If at all possible.\"\n\n\n Retief got to his feet.\n\n\n \"I think our course is clear, Mr. Magnan. It's up to us to go down and\n attract a little attention.\"\nIII\n\n\n \"I'm not at all sure we're going about this in the right way,\" Magnan\n puffed, trotting at Retief's side. \"These fellows Zubb and Slun—Oh,\n they seem affable enough, but how can we be sure we're not being led\n into a trap?\"\n\n\n \"We can't.\"\n\n\n Magnan stopped short. \"Let's go back.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" Retief said. \"Of course there may be an ambush—\"\n\n\n Magnan moved off. \"Let's keep going.\"\n\n\n The party emerged from the undergrowth at the edge of a great\n brush-grown mound. Slun took the lead, rounded the flank of the\n hillock, halted at a rectangular opening cut into the slope.\n\n\n \"You can find your way easily enough from here,\" he said. \"You'll\n excuse us, I hope—\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense, Slun!\" Zubb pushed forward. \"I'll escort our guests to Qornt\n Hall.\" He twittered briefly to his fellow Verpp. Slun twittered back.\n\n\n \"I don't like it, Retief,\" Magnan whispered. \"Those fellows are\n plotting mischief.\"\n\n\n \"Threaten them with violence, Mr Magnan. They're scared of you.\"\n\n\n \"That's true. And the drubbing they received was well-deserved. I'm a\n patient man, but there are occasions—\"\n\n\n \"Come along, please,\" Zubb called. \"Another ten minutes' walk—\"\n\n\n \"See here, we have no interest in investigating this barrow,\" Magnan\n announced. \"We wish you to take us direct to Tarroon to interview your\n military leaders regarding the ultimatum!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, of course. Qornt Hall lies here inside the village.\"\n\n\n \"This is Tarroon?\"\n\n\n \"A modest civic center, sir, but there are those who love it.\"\n\n\n \"No wonder we didn't observe their works from the air,\" Magnan\n muttered. \"Camouflaged.\" He moved hesitantly through the opening.\n\n\n The party moved along a wide, deserted tunnel which sloped down\n steeply, then leveled off and branched. Zubb took the center branch,\n ducking slightly under the nine-foot ceiling lit at intervals with what\n appeared to be primitive incandescent panels.\n\n\n \"Few signs of an advanced technology here,\" Magnan whispered. \"These\n creatures must devote all their talents to warlike enterprise.\"\n\n\n Ahead, Zubb slowed. A distant susurration was audible, a sustained\n high-pitched screeching. \"Softly, now. We approach Qornt Hall. They\n can be an irascible lot when disturbed at their feasting.\"\n\n\n \"When will the feast be over?\" Magnan called hoarsely.\n\n\n \"In another few weeks, I should imagine, if, as you say, they've\n scheduled an invasion for next month.\"\n\n\n \"Look here, Zubb.\" Magnan shook a finger at the tall alien. \"How is it\n that these Qornt are allowed to embark on piratical ventures of this\n sort without reference to the wishes of the majority?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, the majority of the Qornt favor the move, I imagine.\"\n\n\n \"These few hotheads are permitted to embroil the planet in war?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, they don't embroil the planet in war. They merely—\"\n\n\n \"Retief, this is fantastic! I've heard of iron-fisted military cliques\n before, but this is madness!\"\n\n\n \"Come softly, now.\" Zubb beckoned, moving toward a bend in the\n yellow-lit corridor. Retief and Magnan moved forward.\nThe corridor debouched through a high double door into a vast oval\n chamber, high-domed, gloomy, paneled in dark wood and hung with\n tattered banners, scarred halberds, pikes, rusted longswords, crossed\n spears over patinaed hauberks, pitted radiation armor, corroded power\n rifles, the immense mummified heads of horned and fanged animals. Great\n guttering torches in wall brackets and in stands along the length\n of the long table shed a smoky light that reflected from the mirror\n polish of the red granite floor, gleamed on polished silver bowls and\n paper-thin glass, shone jewel-red and gold through dark bottles—and\n cast long flickering shadows behind the fifteen trolls at the board.\n\n\n Lesser trolls—beaked, bush-haired, great-eyed—trotted briskly,\n bird-kneed, bearing steaming platters, stood in groups of\n three strumming slender bottle-shaped lutes, or pranced an\n intricate-patterned dance, unnoticed in the shrill uproar as each of\n the magnificently draped, belted, feathered and jeweled Qornt carried\n on a shouted conversation with an equally noisy fellow.\n\n\n \"A most interesting display of barbaric splendor,\" Magnan breathed.\n \"Now we'd better be getting back.\"\n\n\n \"Ah, a moment,\" Zubb said. \"Observe the Qornt—the tallest of the\n feasters—he with the head-dress of crimson, purple, silver and pink.\"\n\n\n \"Twelve feet if he's an inch,\" Magnan estimated. \"And now we really\n must hurry along—\"\n\n\n \"That one is chief among these rowdies. I'm sure you'll want a word\n with him. He controls not only the Tarroonian vessels but those from\n the other Centers as well.\"\n\n\n \"What kind of vessels? Warships?\"\n\n\n \"Certainly. What other kind would the Qornt bother with?\"\n\n\n \"I don't suppose,\" Magnan said casually, \"that you'd know the type,\n tonnage, armament and manning of these vessels? And how many units\n comprise the fleet? And where they're based at present?\"\n\n\n \"They're fully automated twenty-thousand-ton all-purpose dreadnaughts.\n They mount a variety of weapons. The Qornt are fond of that sort of\n thing. Each of the Qornt has his own, of course. They're virtually\n identical, except for the personal touches each individual has given\n his ship.\"\n\n\n \"Great heavens, Retief!\" Magnan exclaimed in a whisper. \"It sounds as\n though these brutes employ a battle armada as simpler souls might a set\n of toy sailboats!\"\n\n\n Retief stepped past Magnan and Zubb to study the feasting hall. \"I can\n see that their votes would carry all the necessary weight.\"\n\n\n \"And now an interview with the Qorn himself,\" Zubb shrilled. \"If you'll\n kindly step along, gentlemen....\"\n\n\n \"That won't be necessary,\" Magnan said hastily, \"I've decided to refer\n the matter to committee.\"\n\n\n \"After having come so far,\" Zubb said, \"it would be a pity to miss\n having a cosy chat.\"\n\n\n There was a pause.\n\n\n \"Ah ... Retief,\" Magnan said. \"Zubb has just presented a most\n compelling argument....\"\nRetief turned. Zubb stood gripping an ornately decorated power pistol\n in one bony hand, a slim needler in the other. Both were pointed at\n Magnan's chest.\n\n\n \"I suspected you had hidden qualities, Zubb,\" Retief commented.\n\n\n \"See here, Zubb! We're diplomats!\" Magnan started.\n\n\n \"Careful, Mr. Magnan; you may goad him to a frenzy.\"\n\n\n \"By no means,\" Zubb whistled. \"I much prefer to observe the frenzy\n of the Qornt when presented with the news that two peaceful Verpp\n have been assaulted and kidnapped by bullying interlopers. If there's\n anything that annoys the Qornt, it's Qornt-like behavior in others. Now\n step along, please.\"\n\n\n \"Rest assured, this will be reported!\"\n\n\n \"I doubt it.\"\n\n\n \"You'll face the wrath of Enlightened Galactic Opinion!\"\n\n\n \"Oh? How big a navy does Enlightened Galactic Opinion have?\"\n\n\n \"Stop scaring him, Mr. Magnan. He may get nervous and shoot.\" Retief\n stepped into the banquet hall, headed for the resplendent figure at\n the head of the table. A trio of flute-players broke off in mid-bleat,\n staring. An inverted pyramid of tumblers blinked as Retief swung past,\n followed by Magnan and the tall Verpp. The shrill chatter at the table\n faded.\n\n\n Qorn turned as Retief came up, blinking three-inch eyes. Zubb stepped\n forward, gibbered, waving his arms excitedly. Qorn pushed back his\n chair—a low, heavily padded stool—and stared unwinking at Retief,\n moving his head to bring first one great round eye, then the other, to\n bear. There were small blue veins in the immense fleshy beak. The bushy\n hair, springing out in a giant halo around the grayish, porous-skinned\n face, was wiry, stiff, moss-green, with tufts of chartreuse fuzz\n surrounding what appeared to be tympanic membranes. The tall head-dress\n of scarlet silk and purple feathers was slightly askew, and a loop of\n pink pearls had slipped down above one eye.\n\n\n Zubb finished his speech and fell silent, breathing hard.\n\n\n Qorn looked Retief over in silence, then belched.\n\n\n \"Not bad,\" Retief said admiringly. \"Maybe we could get up a match\n between you and Ambassador Sternwheeler. You've got the volume on him,\n but he's got timbre.\"\n\n\n \"So,\" Qorn hooted in a resonant tenor. \"You come from Guzzum, eh? Or\n Smorbrod, as I think you call it. What is it you're after? More time?\n A compromise? Negotiations? Peace?\" He slammed a bony hand against the\n table. \"The answer is\nno\n!\"\n\n\n Zubb twittered. Qorn cocked an eye, motioned to a servant. \"Chain that\n one.\" He indicated Magnan. His eyes went to Retief. \"This one's bigger;\n you'd best chain him, too.\"\n\n\n \"Why, your Excellency—\" Magnan started, stepping forward.\n\n\n \"Stay back!\" Qorn hooted. \"Stand over there where I can keep an eye on\n you.\"\n\n\n \"Your Excellency, I'm empowered—\"\n\n\n \"Not here, you're not!\" Qorn trumpeted. \"Want peace, do you? Well, I\n don't want peace! I've had a surfeit of peace these last two centuries!\n I want action! Loot! Adventure! Glory!\" He turned to look down the\n table. \"How about it, fellows? It's war to the knife, eh?\"\nThere was a momentary silence from all sides.\n\n\n \"I guess so,\" grunted a giant Qornt in iridescent blue with\n flame-colored plumes.\n\n\n Qorn's eyes bulged. He half rose. \"We've been all over this,\" he\n bassooned. He clamped bony fingers on the hilt of a light rapier. \"I\n thought I'd made my point!\"\n\n\n \"Oh, sure, Qorn.\"\n\n\n \"You bet.\"\n\n\n \"I'm convinced.\"\n\n\n Qorn rumbled and resumed his seat. \"All for one and one for all, that's\n us.\"\n\n\n \"And you're the one, eh, Qorn?\" Retief commented.\n\n\n Magnan cleared his throat. \"I sense that some of you gentlemen are not\n convinced of the wisdom of this move,\" he piped, looking along the\n table at the silks, jewels, beaks, feather-decked crests and staring\n eyes.\n\n\n \"Silence!\" Qorn hooted. \"No use your talking to my loyal lieutenants\n anyway,\" he added. \"They do whatever I convince them they ought to do.\"\n\n\n \"But I'm sure that on more mature consideration—\"\n\n\n \"I can lick any Qornt in the house.\" Qorn said. \"That's why I'm Qorn.\"\n He belched again.\n\n\n A servant came up staggering under a weight of chain, dropped it with a\n crash at Magnan's feet. Zubb aimed the guns while the servant wrapped\n three loops around Magnan's wrists, snapped a lock in place.\n\n\n \"You next!\" The guns pointed at Retief's chest. He held out his arms.\n Four loops of silvery-gray chain in half-inch links dropped around\n them. The servant cinched them up tight, squeezed a lock through the\n ends and closed it.\n\n\n \"Now,\" Qorn said, lolling back in his chair, glass in hand. \"There's a\n bit of sport to be had here, lads. What shall we do with them?\"\n\n\n \"Let them go,\" the blue and flame Qornt said glumly.\n\n\n \"You can do better than that,\" Qorn hooted. \"Now here's a suggestion:\n we carve them up a little—lop off the external labiae and pinnae,\n say—and ship them back.\"\n\n\n \"Good lord! Retief, he's talking about cutting off our ears and sending\n us home mutilated! What a barbaric proposal!\"\n\n\n \"It wouldn't be the first time a Terrestrial diplomat got a trimming,\"\n Retief commented.\n\n\n \"It should have the effect of stimulating the Terries to put up a\n reasonable scrap,\" Qorn said judiciously. \"I have a feeling that\n they're thinking of giving up without a struggle.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, I doubt that,\" the blue-and-flame Qornt said. \"Why should they?\"\n\n\n Qorn rolled an eye at Retief and another at Magnan. \"Take these two,\"\n he hooted. \"I'll wager they came here to negotiate a surrender!\"\n\n\n \"Well,\" Magnan started.\n\n\n \"Hold it, Mr. Magnan,\" Retief said. \"I'll tell him.\"\n\n\n \"What's your proposal?\" Qorn whistled, taking a gulp from his goblet.\n \"A fifty-fifty split? Monetary reparations? Alternate territory? I can\n assure you, it's useless. We Qornt\nlike\nto fight.\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid you've gotten the wrong impression, your Excellency,\"\n Retief said blandly. \"We didn't come to negotiate. We came to deliver\n an Ultimatum.\"\n\n\n \"What?\" Qorn trumpeted. Behind Retief, Magnan spluttered.\n\n\n \"We plan to use this planet for target practice,\" Retief said. \"A new\n type hell bomb we've worked out. Have all your people off of it in\n seventy-two hours, or suffer the consequences.\"\nIV\n\n\n \"You have the gall,\" Qorn stormed, \"to stand here in the center of\n Qornt Hall—uninvited, at that—and in chains—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, these,\" Retief said. He tensed his arms. The soft aluminum links\n stretched and broke. He shook the light metal free. \"We diplomats like\n to go along with colorful local customs, but I wouldn't want to mislead\n you. Now, as to the evacuation of Roolit I—\"\nZubb screeched, waved the guns. The Qornt were jabbering.\n\n\n \"I told you they were brutes,\" Zubb shrilled.\n\n\n Qorn slammed his fist down on the table. \"I don't care what they are!\"\n he honked. \"Evacuate, hell! I can field eighty-five combat-ready ships!\"\n\n\n \"And we can englobe every one of them with a thousand Peace Enforcers\n with a hundred megatons/second firepower each.\"\n\n\n \"Retief.\" Magnan tugged at his sleeve. \"Don't forget their superdrive.\"\n\n\n \"That's all right. They don't have one.\"\n\n\n \"But—\"\n\n\n \"We'll take you on!\" Qorn French-horned. \"We're the Qorn! We glory in\n battle! We live in fame or go down in—\"\n\n\n \"Hogwash,\" the flame-and-blue Qorn cut in. \"If it wasn't for you, Qorn,\n we could sit around and feast and brag and enjoy life without having to\n prove anything.\"\n\n\n \"Qorn, you seem to be the fire-brand here,\" Retief said. \"I think the\n rest of the boys would listen to reason—\"\n\n\n \"Over my dead body!\"\n\n\n \"My idea exactly,\" Retief said. \"You claim you can lick any man in\n the house. Unwind yourself from your ribbons and step out here on the\n floor, and we'll see how good you are at backing up your conversation.\"\nMagnan hovered at Retief's side. \"Twelve feet tall,\" he moaned. \"And\n did you notice the size of those hands?\"\n\n\n Retief watched as Qorn's aides helped him out of his formal trappings.\n \"I wouldn't worry too much, Mr. Magnan. This is a light-Gee world. I\n doubt if old Qorn would weigh up at more than two-fifty standard pounds\n here.\"\n\n\n \"But that phenomenal reach—\"\n\n\n \"I'll peck away at him at knee level. When he bends over to swat me,\n I'll get a crack at him.\"\n\n\n Across the cleared floor, Qorn shook off his helpers with a snort.\n\n\n \"Enough! Let me at the upstart!\"\n\n\n Retief moved out to meet him, watching the upraised backward-jointed\n arms. Qorn stalked forward, long lean legs bent, long horny feet\n clacking against the polished floor. The other aliens—both servitors\n and bejeweled Qornt—formed a wide circle, all eyes unwaveringly on the\n combatants.\n\n\n Qorn struck suddenly, a long arm flashing down in a vicious cut at\n Retief, who leaned aside, caught one lean shank below the knee. Qorn\n bent to haul Retief from his leg—and staggered back as a haymaker took\n him just below the beak. A screech went up from the crowd as Retief\n leaped clear.\n\n\n Qorn hissed and charged. Retief whirled aside, then struck the alien's\n off-leg in a flying tackle. Qorn leaned, arms windmilling, crashed to\n the floor. Retief whirled, dived for the left arm, whipped it behind\n the narrow back, seized Qorn's neck in a stranglehold and threw his\n weight backward. Qorn fell on his back, his legs squatted out at an\n awkward angle. He squawked and beat his free arm on the floor, reaching\n in vain for Retief.\n\n\n Zubb stepped forward, pistols ready. Magnan stepped before him.\n\n\n \"Need I remind you, sir,\" he said icily, \"that this is an official\n diplomatic function? I can brook no interference from disinterested\n parties.\"\n\n\n Zubb hesitated. Magnan held out a hand. \"I must ask you to hand me your\n weapons, Zubb.\"\n\n\n \"Look here,\" Zubb began.\n\n\n \"I\nmay\nlose my temper,\" Magnan hinted. Zubb lowered the guns, passed\n them to Magnan. He thrust them into his belt with a sour smile, turned\n back to watch the encounter.\n\n\n Retief had thrown a turn of violet silk around Qorn's left wrist, bound\n it to the alien's neck. Another wisp of stuff floated from Qorn's\n shoulder. Retief, still holding Qorn in an awkward sprawl, wrapped\n it around one outflung leg, trussed ankle and thigh together. Qorn\n flopped, hooting. At each movement, the constricting loop around his\n neck, jerked his head back, the green crest tossing wildly.\n\n\n \"If I were you, I'd relax,\" Retief said, rising and releasing his grip.\n Qorn got a leg under him; Retief kicked it. Qorn's chin hit the floor\n with a hollow clack. He wilted, an ungainly tangle of over-long limbs\n and gay silks.\n\n\n Retief turned to the watching crowd. \"Next?\" he called.\n\n\n The blue and flame Qornt stepped forward. \"Maybe this would be a good\n time to elect a new leader,\" he said. \"Now, my qualifications—\"\n\n\n \"Sit down,\" Retief said loudly. He stepped to the head of the table,\n seated himself in Qorn's vacated chair. \"A couple of you finish\n trussing Qorn up for me.\"\n\n\n \"But we must select a leader!\"\n\n\n \"That won't be necessary, boys. I'm your new leader.\"\n\"As I see it,\" Retief said, dribbling cigar ashes into an empty wine\n glass, \"you Qornt like to be warriors, but you don't particularly like\n to fight.\"\n\n\n \"We don't mind a little fighting—within reason. And, of course, as\n Qornt, we're expected to die in battle. But what I say is, why rush\n things?\"\n\n\n \"I have a suggestion,\" Magnan said. \"Why not turn the reins of\n government over to the Verpp? They seem a level-headed group.\"\n\n\n \"What good would that do? Qornt are Qornt. It seems there's always one\n among us who's a slave to instinct—and, naturally, we have to follow\n him.\"\n\n\n \"Why?\"\n\n\n \"Because that's the way it's done.\"\n\n\n \"Why not do it another way?\" Magnan offered. \"Now, I'd like to suggest\n community singing—\"\n\n\n \"If we gave up fighting, we might live too long. Then what would\n happen?\"\n\n\n \"Live too long?\" Magnan looked puzzled.\n\n\n \"When estivating time comes there'd be no burrows for us. Anyway, with\n the new Qornt stepping on our heels—\"\n\n\n \"I've lost the thread,\" Magnan said. \"Who are the new Qornt?\"\n\n\n \"After estivating, the Verpp moult, and then they're Qornt, of course.\n The Gwil become Boog, the Boog become Rheuk, the Rheuk metamorphosize\n into Verpp—\"\n\n\n \"You mean Slun and Zubb—the mild-natured naturalists—will become\n warmongers like Qorn?\"\n\n\n \"Very likely. 'The milder the Verpp, the wilder the Qorn,' as the old\n saying goes.\"\n\n\n \"What do Qornt turn into?\" Retief asked.\n\n\n \"Hmmmm. That's a good question. So far, none have survived Qornthood.\"\n\n\n \"Have you thought of forsaking your warlike ways?\" Magnan asked. \"What\n about taking up sheepherding and regular church attendance?\"\n\n\n \"Don't mistake me. We Qornt like a military life. It's great sport to\n sit around roaring fires and drink and tell lies and then go dashing\n off to enjoy a brisk affray and some leisurely looting afterward. But\n we prefer a nice numerical advantage. Not this business of tackling you\n Terrestrials over on Guzzum—that was a mad notion. We had no idea what\n your strength was.\"\n\n\n \"But now that's all off, of course,\" Magnan chirped. \"Now that we've\n had diplomatic relations and all—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, by no means. The fleet lifts in thirty days. After all, we're\n Qornt; we have to satisfy our drive to action.\"\n\n\n \"But Mr. Retief is your leader now. He won't let you!\"\n\n\n \"Only a dead Qornt stays home when Attack day comes. And even if\n he orders us all to cut our own throats, there are still the other\n Centers—all with their own leaders. No, gentlemen, the Invasion is\n definitely on.\"\n\n\n \"Why don't you go invade somebody else?\" Magnan suggested. \"I could\n name some very attractive prospects—outside my sector, of course.\"\n\n\n \"Hold everything,\" Retief said. \"I think we've got the basis of a deal\n here....\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was Qorn before the next to last time he estivated?", "question_unique_id": "61434_C4DV5MOT_1", "options": ["a verpp", "a rheuk", "a boog", "a qornt"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What happens to the qornt at estivating time?", "question_unique_id": "61434_C4DV5MOT_2", "options": ["It is unknown", "They die", "Nothing", "They moult"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which reaction to the ultimatum was not suggested to Nitworth?", "question_unique_id": "61434_C4DV5MOT_3", "options": ["Delayed withdrawal", "Guerilla warfare", "Quick withdrawal", "Insisting on more time"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Magnan feel about his reconnaissance assignment?", "question_unique_id": "61434_C4DV5MOT_4", "options": ["He was scared and tried every opportunity to get out of it", "He was afraid he would do something rash", "He was afraid of failing his responsibility", "He felt heroic"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who found Retief and Magnan in the trees?", "question_unique_id": "61434_C4DV5MOT_5", "options": ["Two wild animals", "Two Verpp", "Two Qornt", "Three Qornt"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who would make the least warlike Qornt?", "question_unique_id": "61434_C4DV5MOT_6", "options": ["A passive Verpp", "A calm Verpp", "An angry Verpp", "A happy Verpp"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why had the humans not been able to see the Qornt village from the air?", "question_unique_id": "61434_C4DV5MOT_7", "options": ["It was underground", "It was too small", "It was camouflaged ", "It had an invisibility cloak"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Zubb want the men to go visit the Qornt?", "question_unique_id": "61434_C4DV5MOT_8", "options": ["He wanted to report their crimes against him", "He thought they would be ignored", "He wanted the men to be honored guests", "He wanted them to negotiate a surrender"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/3/61434//61434-h//61434-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions 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{"article_id": "63150", "set_unique_id": "63150_2I9H6MLD", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Soul Eaters", "year": 1953, "author": "Conover, William", "topic": "Science fiction; Asteroids -- Fiction; Adventure stories; Pirates -- Fiction; Castaways -- Fiction; PS", "article": "THE SOUL EATERS\nBy WILLIAM CONOVER\nFirebrand Dennis Brooke had one final chance\n\n to redeem himself by capturing Koerber whose\n\n ships were the scourge of the Void. But his\n\n luck had run its course, and now he was\n\n marooned on a rogue planet—fighting to save\n\n himself from a menace weapons could not kill.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1944.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"\nAnd so, my dear\n,\" Dennis detected a faint irony in the phrase, \"\nI'm\n afraid I can offer no competition to the beauties of five planets—or\n is it six? With regret I bow myself out, and knowing me as you do,\n you'll understand the futility of trying to convince me again. Anyway,\n there will be no temptation, for I'm sailing on a new assignment I've\n accepted. I did love you.... Good-by.\n\"\n\n\n Dennis Brooke had lost count of the times he'd read Marla's last\n letter, but every time he came to these final, poignant lines, they\n never failed to conjure a vision of her tawny loveliness, slender as\n the palms of Venus, and of the blue ecstasy of her eyes, wide with a\n perpetual wonder—limpid as a child's.\n\n\n The barbaric rhythms of the\nCongahua\n, were a background of annoyance\n in Dennis' mind; he frowned slightly as the maneuvers of the Mercurian\n dancer, who writhed among the guests of the notorious pleasure palace,\n began to leave no doubt as to her intentions. The girl was beautiful,\n in a sultry, almost incandescent sort of way, but her open promise left\n him cold. He wanted solitude, somewhere to coordinate his thoughts\n in silence and salvage something out of the wreck of his heart, not\n to speak of his career. But Venus, in the throes of a gigantic boom\n upon the discovery of radio-active fields, could offer only one\n solitude—the fatal one of her swamps and virgin forests.\n\n\n Dennis Brooke was thirty, the time when youth no longer seems unending.\n When the minor adventures of the heart begin to pall. If the loss of\n Marla left an aching void that all the women of five planets could not\n fill, the loss of Space, was quite as deadly. For he had been grounded.\n True, Koerber's escape from the I.S.P. net had not quite been his\n fault; but had he not been enjoying the joys of a voluptuous Jovian\n Chamber, in Venus' fabulous Inter-planetary Palace, he would have been\n ready for duty to complete the last link in the net of I.S.P. cruisers\n that almost surrounded the space pirate.\n\n\n A night in the Jovian Chamber, was to be emperor for one night. Every\n dream of a man's desire was marvelously induced through the skilful use\n of hypnotics; the rarest viands and most delectable drinks appeared as\n if by magic; the unearthly peace of an Olympus descended on a man's\n soul, and beauty ... beauty such as men dreamed of was a warm reality\n under the ineffable illumination of the Chamber.\n\n\n It cost a young fortune. But to pleasure mad, boom-ridden Venus, a\n fortune was a bagatelle. Only it had cost Dennis Brooke far more than a\n sheaf of credits—it had cost him the severe rebuff of the I.S.P., and\n most of his heart in Marla.\n\n\n Dennis sighed, he tilted his red, curly head and drank deeply of the\n insidious\nVerbena\n, fragrant as a mint garden, in the tall frosty\n glass of Martian\nBacca-glas\n, and as he did so, his brilliant hazel\n eyes found themselves gazing into the unwinking, violet stare of a\n young Martian at the next table. There was a smouldering hatred in\n those eyes, and something else ... envy, perhaps, or was it jealousy?\n Dennis couldn't tell. But his senses became instantly alert. Danger\n brought a faint vibration which his superbly trained faculties could\n instantly denote.\n\n\n His steady, bronzed hand lowered the drink, and his eyes narrowed\n slightly. Absorbed in trying to puzzle the sudden enmity of this\n Martian stranger, he was unaware of the Mercurian Dancer. The latter\n had edged closer, whirling in prismatic flashes from the myriad\n semi-precious stones that studded her brief gauze skirt. And now, in\n a final bid for the spacer's favor she flung herself in his lap and\n tilted back invitingly.\n\n\n Some of the guests laughed, others stared in plain envy at the\n handsome, red-haired spacer, but from the table across, came the\n tinkling sound of a fragile glass being crushed in a powerful hand,\n and a muffled Martian curse. Without warning, the Martian was on his\n feet with the speed of an Hellacorium, the table went crashing to one\n side as he leaped with deadly intent on the sprawled figure of Dennis\n Brooke. A high-pitched scream brought instant silence as a Terran girl\n cried out. Then the Martian's hand reached out hungrily. But Dennis was\n not there.\nLeaping to one side, impervious to the fall of the dancer, he avoided\n the murderous rush of the Martian youth, then he wheeled swiftly and\n planted a sledge-hammer blow in that most vulnerable spot of all\n Martians, the spot just below their narrow, wasp-like waist, and as the\n Martian half-doubled over, he lefted him with a short jab to the chin\n that staggered and all but dropped him.\n\n\n The Martian's violet eyes were black with fury now. He staggered back\n and sucked in air, his face contorted with excruciating pain. But he\n was not through. His powerful right shot like a blast straight for\n Dennis' chest, striking like a piston just below the heart. Dennis took\n it, flat-footed, without flinching; then he let his right ride over\n with all the force at his command. It caught the Martian on the jaw and\n spun him like a top, the pale, imperious face went crimson as he slowly\n sagged to his knees and rolled to the impeccable mosaics of the floor.\n\n\n Dennis, breathing heavily, stood over him until the international\n police arrived, and then he had the surprise of his life. Upon search,\n the police found a tiny, but fatal silvery tube holstered under his\n left arm-pit—an atomic-disintegrator, forbidden throughout the\n interplanetary League. Only major criminals and space pirates still\n without the law were known to possess them.\n\n\n \"Looks like your brawl has turned out to be a piece of fool's luck,\n Brooke!\" The Police Lieutenant favored Dennis with a wry smile. \"If\n I'm not mistaken this chap's a member of Bren Koerber's pirate crew.\n Who else could afford to risk his neck at the International, and have\n in his possession a disintegrator? Pity we have no complete records\n on that devil's crew! Anyway, we'll radio the I.S.P., perhaps they\n have details on this dandy!\" He eyed admiringly the priceless Martian\n embroideries on the unconscious Martian's tunic, the costly border of\n red, ocelandian fur, and the magnificent black\nacerine\non his finger.\n\n\n Dennis Brooke shrugged his shoulders, shoulders that would have put to\n shame the Athenian statues of another age. A faint, bitter smile curved\n his generous mouth. \"I'm grounded, Gillian, it'd take the capture of\n Koerber himself to set me right with the I.S.P. again—you don't know\n Bertram! To him an infraction of rules is a major crime. Damn Venus!\"\n He reached for his glass of\nVerbena\nbut the table had turned over\n during the struggle, and the glass was a shattered mass of gleaming\nBacca-glas\nshards. He laughed shortly as he became conscious of the\n venomous stare of the Mercurian Dancer, of the excited voices of the\n guests and the emphatic disapproval of the Venusian proprietor who\n was shocked at having a brawl in his ultra-expensive, ultra-exclusive\n Palace.\n\n\n \"Better come to Headquarters with me, Dennis,\" the lieutenant said\n gently. \"We'll say you captured him, and if he's Koerber's, the\n credit's yours. A trip to Terra's what you need, Venus for you is a\n hoodoo!\"\nThe stern, white haired I.S.P. Commander behind the immense Aluminil\n desk, frowned slightly as Dennis Brooke entered. He eyed the six foot\n four frame of the Captain before him with a mixture of feelings, as\n if uncertain how to begin. Finally, he sighed as if, having come to a\n decision, he were forcing himself to speak:\n\n\n \"Sit down, Dennis. I've sent for you, despite your grounding, for\n two reasons. The first one you already know—your capture of one of\n Koerber's henchmen—has given us a line as to his present orbit of\n piracy, and the means of a check on his activities. But that's not\n really why I've brought you here.\" He frowned again as if what he had\n to say were difficult indeed.\n\n\n \"Marla Starland, your fiancee, accepted an assignment we offered her—a\n delicate piece of work here on Terra that only a very beautiful, and\n very clever young lady could perform. And,\" he paused, grimacing,\n \"somewhere between Venus and Terra, the interplanetary spacer bringing\n her and several other passengers, began to send distress signals.\n Finally, we couldn't contact the ship any more. It is three days\n overdue. All passengers, a cargo of radium from Venus worth untold\n millions, the spacer itself—seem to have vanished.\"\n\n\n Dennis Brooke's space-tanned features had gone pale. His large hazel\n eyes, fringed with auburn lashes, too long for a man, were bright slits\n that smouldered. He stood silent, his hands clenched at his sides,\n while something cold and sharp seemed to dig at his heart with cruel\n precision.\n\n\n \"Marla!\" He breathed at last. The thought of Marla in the power\n of Koerber sent a wave of anguish that seared through him like an\n atom-blast.\n\n\n \"Commander,\" Dennis said, and his rich baritone voice had depths of\n emotion so great that they startled Commander Bertram himself—and\n that grizzled veteran of the I.S.P., had at one time or another known\n every change of torture that could possibly be wrung on a human soul.\n \"Commander, give me one ...\none\nchance at that spawn of unthinkable\n begetting! Let me try, and I promise you ...\" in his torture, Dennis\n was unconsciously banging a knotted fist on the chaste, satiny surface\n of the priceless desk, \"I promise you that I will either bring you\n Koerber, or forfeit my life!\"\n\n\n Commander Bertram nodded his head. \"I brought you here for that\n purpose, son. We have reached a point in our war with Koerber, where\n the last stakes must be played ... and the last stake is death!\"\n\n\n He reached over and flipped up the activator on a small telecast set\n on his desk; instantly the viso-screen lighted up. \"You'll now see\n a visual record of all we know about the passenger spacer that left\n Venus with passengers and cargo, as far as we could contact the vessel\n in space. This, Dennis,\" the Commander emphasized his words, \"is your\n chance to redeem yourself!\" He fell silent, while the viso-screen began\n to show a crowded space port on Venus, and a gigantic passenger spacer\n up-tilted in its cradle.\nThey watched the parabola it made in its trajectory as it flashed into\n space and then fell into orbit there beyond the planetary attraction of\n Venus. On the three-dimensional viso-screen it was uncannily real.\n\n\n A flight that had taken many hours to accomplish, was shortened on\n the viso-screen to a matter of minutes. They saw the great, proud\n interplanetary transport speeding majestically through the starry void,\n and suddenly, they saw her swerve in a great arc; again she swerved\n as if avoiding something deadly in space, and point upwards gaining\n altitude. It was zig-zagging now, desperately maneuvering in an erratic\n course, and as if by magic, a tiny spot appeared on the transport's\n side.\n\n\n Tiny on the viso-screen, the fatal spots must have been huge in\n actuality. To the Commander of the I.S.P., and to Captain Brooke, it\n was an old story. Atom-blasts were pitting the spacer's hull with\n deadly Genton shells. The great transport trembled under the impact of\n the barrage, and suddenly, the screen went blank.\n\n\n Commander Bertram turned slowly to face the young I.S.P. captain, whose\n features were a mask devoid of all expression now, save for the pallor\n and the burning fire in his eyes.\n\n\n \"And that's the sixth one in a month. Sometimes the survivors reach\n Terra in emergency spacers, or are picked up in space by other\n transports ... and sometimes son ... well, as you know, sometimes\n they're never seen again.\"\n\n\n \"When do I leave, Commander!\" Dennis Brooke's voice was like a javelin\n of ice.\n\n\n \"Right now, if you wish. We have a new cruiser armored in beryloid with\n double hull—a new design against Genton shells, but it's the speed\n of the thing that you'll want to know about. It just about surpasses\n anything ever invented. Get the figures and data from the coordination\n room, son; it's serviced and fueled and the crew's aboard.\" He\n extended his hand. \"You're the best spacer we have—aside from your\n recklessness—and on your success depends far more than the capture of\n an outlaw.\" Bertram smiled thinly. \"Happy landing!\"\nII\n\n\n Their nerves were ragged. Days and days of fruitless search for a\n phantom ship that seemed to have vanished from space, and an equally\n elusive pirate whose whereabouts were hidden in the depths of\n fathomless space.\n\n\n To all but Captain Brooke, this was a new adventure, their first\n assignment to duty in a search that went beyond the realm of the\n inner planets, where men spent sleepless nights in eternal vigilance\n against stray asteroids and outlaw crews of ruthless vandal ships. Even\n their cruiser was a new experience, the long, tapering fighter lacked\n the luxurious offices and appointments of the regular I.S.P. Patrol\n spacers. It placed a maximum on speed, and all available space was\n hoarded for fuel. The lightning fast tiger of the space-lanes, was a\n thing of beauty, but of grim, sleek beauty instinct with power, not the\n comfortable luxury that they knew.\n\n\n Day after day they went through their drills, donning space suits,\n manning battle stations; aiming deadly atom-cannon at empty space, and\n eternally scanning the vast empty reaches by means of the telecast.\n\n\n And suddenly, out of the void, as they had all but given up the search\n as a wild goose chase, a speck was limned in the lighted surface of the\n viso-screen in the control room. Instantly the I.S.P. cruiser came to\n life. In a burst of magnificent speed, the cruiser literally devoured\n the space leagues, until the spacer became a flashing streak. On the\n viso-screen, the speck grew larger, took on contours, growing and\n becoming slowly the drifting shell of what had been a transport.\n\n\n Presently they were within reaching distance, and Captain Brooke\n commanded through the teleradio from the control room:\n\n\n \"Prepare to board!\"\n\n\n Every member of the crew wanted to be among the boarding party, for\n all but George Randall, the junior member of the crew had served his\n apprenticeship among the inner planets, Mars, Venus and Terra. He felt\n nauseated at the very thought of going out there in that vast abyss of\n space. His young, beardless face, with the candid blue eyes went pale\n when the order was given. But presently, Captain Brooke named those who\n were to go beside himself:\n\n\n \"You, Tom and Scotty, take one emergency plane, and Dallas!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain!\" Dallas Bernan, the immense third lieutenant boomed in\n his basso-profundo voice.\n\n\n \"You and I'll take a second emergency!\" There was a pause in the voice\n of the Captain from the control room, then: \"Test space suits. Test\n oxygen helmets! Atom-blasts only, ready in five minutes!\"\n\n\n George Randall breathed a sigh of relief. He watched them bridge the\n space to the drifting wreck, then saw them enter what had once been a\n proud interplanetary liner, now soon to be but drifting dust, and he\n turned away with a look of shame.\n\n\n Inside the liner, Captain Dennis Brooke had finished making a detailed\n survey.\n\n\n \"No doubt about it,\" he spoke through the radio in his helmet. \"Cargo\n missing. No survivors. No indication that the repulsion fields were\n out of order. And finally, those Genton shells could only have been\n fired by Koerber!\" He tried to maintain a calm exterior, but inwardly\n he seethed in a cold fury more deadly than any he had ever experienced.\n Somehow he had expected to find at least one compartment unharmed,\n where life might have endured, but now, all hope was gone. Only a great\n resolve to deal with Koerber once and for all remained to him.\n\n\n Dennis tried not to think of Marla, too great an ache was involved in\n thinking of her and all he had lost. When he finally spoke, his voice\n was harsh, laconic:\n\n\n \"Prepare to return!\"\n\n\n Scotty Byrnes, the cruiser's nurse, who could take his motors through a\n major battle, or hell and high water and back again, for that matter,\n shifted the Venusian weed that made a perpetual bulge on his cheek and\n gazed curiously at Captain Brooke. They all knew the story in various\n versions, and with special additions. But they were spacemen, implicit\n in their loyalty, and with Dennis Brooke they could and did feel safe.\n\n\n Tom Jeffery, the tall, angular and red-faced Navigator, whose slow,\n easygoing movements belied the feral persistence of a tiger, and the\n swiftness of a striking cobra in a fight, led the small procession of\n men toward the emergency planes. Behind him came Dallas Bernan, third\n lieutenant, looming like a young asteroid in his space suit, followed\n by Scotty, and finally Captain Brooke himself. All left in silence, as\n if the tragedy that had occurred aboard the wrecked liner, had touched\n them intimately.\nAboard the I.S.P. Cruiser, a surprise awaited them. It was young George\n Randall, whose excited face met them as soon as they had entered the\n airlocks and removed the space suits.\n\n\n \"Captain Brooke ... Captain, recordings are showing on the new 'Jet\n Analyzers' must be the trail of some spacer. Can't be far!\" He was\n fairly dancing in his excitement, as if the marvelous work of the\n new invention that detected the disturbance of atomic jets at great\n distance were his own achievement.\n\n\n Dennis Brooke smiled. His own heart was hammering, and inwardly he\n prayed that it were Koerber. It had to be! No interplanetary passenger\n spacer could possibly be out here at the intersection of angles Kp\n 39 degrees, 12 minutes, Fp 67 degrees of Ceres elliptic plane. None\n but a pirate crew with swift battle cruisers could dare! This was the\n dangerous asteroid belt, where even planetoids drifted in eccentric\n uncharted orbits.\n\n\n Dennis, Tom Jeffery and Scotty Byrnes raced to the control room,\n followed by the ponderous Dallas to whom hurry in any form was\n anathema. There could be no doubt now! The \"Jet Analyzer\" recorded\n powerful disturbance, atomic—could be nothing else.\n\n\n Instantly Captain Brooke was at the inter-communication speaker:\n\n\n \"Crew, battle stations! Engine room, full speed!\"\n\n\n Scotty Byrnes was already dashing to the engine room, where his beloved\n motors purred with an ascending hum. Aboard the I.S.P. Cruiser each\n member of the crew raced to his assigned task without delay. Action\n impended, and after days and nights of inertia, it was a blessed\n relief. Smiles appeared on haggard faces, and the banter of men\n suddenly galvanized by a powerful incentive was bandied back and forth.\n All but George Randall. Now that action was imminent. Something gripped\n his throat until he could hardly stand the tight collar of his I.S.P.\n uniform. A growing nausea gripped his bowels, and although he strove to\n keep calm, his hands trembled beyond control.\n\n\n In the compact, super-armored control room, Captain Brooke watched\n the telecast's viso-screen, with hungry eyes that were golden with\n anticipation. It seemed to him as if an eternity passed before at\n last, a black speck danced on the illuminated screen, until it finally\n reached the center of the viso-screen and remained there. It grew by\n leaps and bounds as the terrific speed of the cruiser minimized the\n distance long before the quarry was aware of pursuit.\n\n\n But at last, when the enemy cruiser showed on the viso-screen,\n unmistakably for what it was—a pirate craft, it showed by its sudden\n maneuver that it had detected the I.S.P. cruiser. For it had described\n a parabola in space and headed for the dangerous asteroid belt. As if\n navigated by a masterly hand that knew each and every orbit of the\n asteroids, it plunged directly into the asteroid drift, hoping to lose\n the I.S.P. cruiser with such a maneuver. Ordinarily, it would have\n succeeded, no I.S.P. patrol ship would have dared to venture into such\n a trap without specific orders. But to Dennis Brooke, directing the\n chase from the control room, even certain death was welcome, if only he\n could take Koerber with him.\n\n\n Weaving through the deadly belt for several hours, Dennis saw his\n quarry slow down. Instantly he seized the chance and ordered a salvo\n from starboard. Koerber's powerful spacer reeled, dived and came up\n spewing Genton-shells. The battle was on at last.\n\n\n From the banked atom-cannon of the I.S.P. Cruiser, a deadly curtain\n of atomic fire blazed at the pirate craft. A ragged rent back toward\n midship showed on Koerber's Cruiser which trembled as if it had been\n mortally wounded. Then Dennis maneuvered his cruiser into a power\n dive as a rain of Genton-shells swept the space lane above him, but as\n he came up, a lone shell struck. At such close range, super-armor was\n ripped, second armor penetrated and the magnificent vessel shook under\n the detonating impact.\n\n\n It was then that Dennis Brooke saw the immense dark shadow looming\n immediately behind Koerber's ship. He saw the pirate cruiser zoom\n desperately in an effort to break the gravity trap of the looming mass,\n but too late. It struggled like a fly caught in a spider-web to no\n avail. It was then that Koerber played his last card. Sensing he was\n doomed, he tried to draw the I.S.P. Cruiser down with him. A powerful\n magnetic beam lashed out to spear the I.S.P. Cruiser.\nWith a wrenching turn that almost threw them out of control, Dennis\n maneuvered to avoid the beam. Again Koerber's beam lashed out, as he\n sank lower into the looming mass, and again Dennis anticipating the\n maneuver avoided it.\n\n\n \"George Randall!\" He shouted desperately into the speaker. \"Cut all\n jets in the rocket room! Hurry, man!\" He banked again and then zoomed\n out of the increasing gravity trap.\n\n\n \"Randall! I've got to use the magnetic repulsion plates.... Cut all the\n jets!\" But there was no response. Randall's screen remained blank. Then\n Koerber's lashing magnetic beam touched and the I.S.P. ship was caught,\n forced to follow the pirate ship's plunge like the weight at the end of\n a whiplash. Koerber's gunners sent one parting shot, an atom-blast that\n shook the trapped cruiser like a leaf.\n\n\n Beneath them, growing larger by the second, a small world rushed up to\n meet them. The readings in the Planetograph seemed to have gone crazy.\n It showed diameter 1200 miles; composition mineral and radio-active.\n Gravity seven-eighths of Terra. It couldn't be! Unless perhaps this\n unknown planetoid was the legendary core of the world that at one time\n was supposed to have existed between Jupiter and Mars. Only that could\n possibly explain the incredible gravity.\n\n\n And then began another type of battle. Hearing the Captain's orders to\n Randall, and noting that no result had been obtained, Scotty Byrnes\n himself cut the jets. The Magnetic Repulsion Plates went into action,\n too late to save them from being drawn, but at least they could prevent\n a crash. Far in the distance they could see Koerber's ship preceding\n them in a free fall, then the Planetoid was rushing up to engulf them.\nIII\n\n\n The atmosphere was somewhat tenuous, but it was breathable, provided\n a man didn't exert himself. To the silent crew of the I.S.P. Cruiser,\n the strange world to which Koerber's magnetic Beam had drawn them,\n was anything but reassuring. Towering crags jutted raggedly against\n the sky, and the iridescent soil of the narrow valley that walled in\n the cruiser, had a poisonous, deadly look. As far as their eyes could\n reach, the desolate, denuded vista stretched to the horizon.\n\n\n \"Pretty much of a mess!\" Dennis Brooke's face was impassive as he\n turned to Scotty Byrnes. \"What's your opinion? Think we can patch her\n up, or are we stuck here indefinitely?\"\n\n\n Scotty eyed the damage. The atom-blast had penetrated the hull into\n the forward fuel chambers and the armor had blossomed out like flower\n petals. The crash-landing had not helped either.\n\n\n \"Well, there's a few beryloid plates in the storage locker, Captain,\n but,\" he scratched his head ruminatively and shifted his precious cud.\n\n\n \"But what? Speak up man!\" It was Tom Jeffery, his nerves on edge, his\n ordinarily gentle voice like a lash.\n\n\n \"But, you may as well know it,\" Scotty replied quietly. \"That parting\n shot of Koerber's severed our main rocket feed. I had to use the\n emergency tank to make it down here!\"\n\n\n For a long moment the four men looked at each other in silence. Dennis\n Brooke's face was still impassive but for the flaming hazel eyes. Tom\n tugged at the torn sleeve of his I.S.P. uniform, while Scotty gazed\n mournfully at the damaged ship. Dallas Bernan looked at the long,\n ragged line of cliffs.\n\n\n \"I think we got Koerber, though,\" he said at last. \"While Tom was doing\n a job of navigation, I had one last glimpse of him coming down fast\n and out of control somewhere behind those crags over there!\"\n\n\n \"To hell with Koerber!\" Tom Jeffery exploded. \"You mean we're stuck in\n this hellish rock-pile?\"\n\n\n \"Easy, Tom!\" Captain Brooke's tones were like ice. On his pale,\n impassive face, his eyes were like flaming topaz. \"Where's Randall?\"\n\n\n \"Probably hiding his head under a bunk!\" Dallas laughed with scorn. His\n contemptuous remark voiced the feelings of the entire crew. A man who\n failed to be at his battle-station in time of emergency, had no place\n in the I.S.P.\n\n\n \"Considering the gravity of this planetoid,\" Dennis Brooke said\n thoughtfully, \"it's going to take some blast to get us off!\"\n\n\n \"Maybe we can locate a deposit of anerioum or uranium or something for\n our atom-busters to chew on!\" Scotty said hopefully. He was an eternal\n optimist.\n\n\n \"Better break out those repair plates,\" Dennis said to Scotty. \"Tom,\n you get the welders ready. I've got a few entries to make in the log\n book, and then we'll decide on a party to explore the terrain and try\n to find out what happened to Koerber's ship. I must know,\" he said in a\n low voice, but with such passion that the others were startled.\n\n\n A figure appeared in the slanting doorway of the ship in time to hear\n the last words. It was George Randall, adjusting a bandaged forehead\n bumped during the crash landing.\n\n\n \"Captain ... I ... I wanted ...\" he paused unable to continue.\n\n\n \"You wanted what?\" Captain Brooke's voice was terse. \"Perhaps you\n wanted to explain why you weren't at your battle station?\"\n\n\n \"Sir, I wanted to know if ... if I might help Scotty with the welding\n job....\" That wasn't at all what he'd intended to say. But somehow the\n words had stuck in his throat and his face flushed deep scarlet. His\n candid blue eyes were suspiciously brilliant, and the white bandage\n with its crimson stains made an appealing, boyish figure. It softened\n the anger in Brooke's heart. Thinking it over calmly, Dennis realized\n this was the youngster's first trip into the outer orbits, and better\n men than he had cracked in those vast reaches of space. But there had\n been an instant when he'd found Randall cowering in the rocket-room, in\n the grip of paralyzing hysteria, when he could cheerfully have wrung\n his neck!\n\n\n \"Certainly, Randall,\" he replied in a much more kindly tone. \"We'll\n need all hands now.\"\n\n\n \"Thank you, sir!\" Randall seemed to hesitate for a moment, opened his\n mouth to speak further, but feeling the other's calculating gaze upon\n him, he whirled and re-entered the ship.\n\n\n \"But for him we wouldn't be here!\" Dallas exclaimed. \"Aagh!\" He shook\n his head in disgust until the several folds of flesh under his chin\n shook like gelatin. \"Cowards are hell!\" He spat.\n\n\n \"Easy, Dallas, Randall's a kid, give 'im a chance.\" Dennis observed.\n\n\n \"You Captain ... you're defending 'im? Why you had a greater stake in\n this than we, and he's spoiled it for you!\"\n\n\n \"Yep,\" Dennis nodded. \"But I'm still keeping my senses clear. No feuds\n on my ship. Get it!\" The last two words cut like a scimitar.\n\n\n Dallas nodded and lowered his eyes. Scotty shifted his cud and spat\n a thin stream of juice over the iridescent ground. One by one they\n re-entered the cruiser.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Dennis' girlfriend leave him?", "question_unique_id": "63150_2I9H6MLD_1", "options": ["She wanted to take a new job", "She was upset about his visit to the chamber", "She was upset he cheated with 5 or 6 women from other planets", "She couldn't compete with his love of space travel"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Dennis frown at the dancer?", "question_unique_id": "63150_2I9H6MLD_2", "options": ["It was too cold", "She was writhing", "She was beautiful", "He wanted to be left alone to think"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where is International Police headquarters located?", "question_unique_id": "63150_2I9H6MLD_3", "options": ["Mercury", "Mars", "Venus", "Terra"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have happened if Dennis had not gone to the chamber?", "question_unique_id": "63150_2I9H6MLD_4", "options": ["Bertram would have been upset", "Marla would not have been captured by Koerber", "Koerber would not have been captured", "Dennis would have been grounded"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Dennis sent on the mission even though he was grounded?", "question_unique_id": "63150_2I9H6MLD_5", "options": ["They wanted Koerber brought back alive", "His grounding had been done in error", "He was sent by mistake", "The mission was likely to be deadly"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was the journey not a new adventure for the captain?", "question_unique_id": "63150_2I9H6MLD_6", "options": ["He disliked flying lightning fast", "He'd never spent sleepless nights in eternal vigilance", "He did not have his usual luxurious office onboard", "He was the only one who had been to the outer planets before"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the most likely reason Dennis was sympathetic toward Randall even though his failure caused a catastrophe?", "question_unique_id": "63150_2I9H6MLD_7", "options": ["He was angry at Dallas for criticizing Randall", "He thought Randall had no place in the I S P", "He could relate Randall's behavior to his experience with Koerber", "He knew Randall was a coward"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What caused the shadow behind Koerber's ship", "question_unique_id": "63150_2I9H6MLD_8", "options": ["A transport ship", "A large planet", "An asteroid", "A small planet"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/1/5/63150//63150-h//63150-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63645", "set_unique_id": "63645_THY3SLLH", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Last Monster", "year": 1953, "author": "Fox, Gardner F. (Gardner Francis)", "topic": "Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction; Science fiction; Immortality -- Fiction; PS; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction", "article": "The Last Monster\nBy GARDNER F. FOX\nIrgi was the last of his monster race, guardian of\n\n a dead planet, master of the secret of immortality.\n\n It was he whom the four men from Earth had to\n\n conquer to gain that secret—a tentacled\n\n monstrosity whom Earthly weapons could not touch.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1945.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nIrgi was the last of his race. There was no one else, now; there had\n been no others for hundreds and hundreds of years. Irgi had lost count\n of time dwelling alone amid the marble halls of the eon-ancient city,\n but he knew that much. There were no others.\n\n\n Only Irgi, alone.\n\n\n He moved now along the ebony flooring, past the white marble walls hung\n with golden drapes that never withered or shed their aurate luster in\n the opalescent mists that bathed the city in shimmering whiteness. They\n hung low, those wispy tendrils of mist, clasping everything in their\n clinging shelter, destroying dust and germs. Irgi had discovered the\n mist many years ago, when it was too late to save his kind.\n\n\n He had flung a vast globe of transparent metal above this greatest of\n the cities of the Urg and filled it with the mist, and in it he had\n stored the treasures of his people. From Bar Nomala, from Faryl, and\n from the far-off jungle city of Kreed had he brought the riches of the\n Urg and set them up. Irgi enjoyed beauty, and he enjoyed work. It was\n the combination of both that kept him sane.\n\n\n Toward a mighty bronze doorway he went, and as his body passed an\n invisible beam, the bronze portals slid apart, noiselessly, opening to\n reveal a vast circular chamber that hummed and throbbed, and was filled\n with a pale blue luminescence that glimmered upon metal rods and bars\n and ten tall cones of steelite.\n\n\n In the doorway, Irgi paused and ran his eyes about the chamber, sighing.\n\n\n This was his life work, this blue hum and throb. Those ten cones\n lifting their disced tips toward a circular roof bathed in, and drew\n their power from, a huge block of radiant white matter that hung\n suspended between the cones, in midair. All power did the cones and the\n block possess. There was nothing they could not do, if Irgi so willed.\n It was another discovery that came too late to save the Urg.\n\n\n Irgi moved across the room. He pressed glittering jewels inset in a\n control panel on the wall, one after another, in proper sequence.\n\n\n The blue opalescence deepened, grew dark and vivid. The hum broadened\n into a hoarse roar. And standing out, startlingly white against the\n blue, was the queer block of shining metal, shimmering and pulsing.\n\n\n Irgi drew himself upwards, slowly turning, laving in the quivering\n bands of cobalt that sped outward from the cones. He preened his body\n in their patterns of color, watching it splash and spread over his\n chest and torso. Where it touched, a faint tingle lingered; then spread\n outwards, all over his huge form.\n\n\n Irgi was immortal, and the blue light made him so.\n\n\n \"There, it is done,\" he whispered to himself. \"Now for another oval I\n can roam all Urg as I will, for the life spark in me has been cleansed\n and nourished.\"\n\n\n He touched the jeweled controls, shutting the power to a low murmur. He\n turned to the bronze doors, passed through and into the misty halls.\n\n\n \"I must speak,\" Irgi said as he moved along the corridor. \"I have not\n spoken for many weeks. I must exercise my voice, or lose it. That is\n the law of nature. It would atrophy, otherwise.\n\n\n \"Yes, I will use my voice tonight, and I will go out under the dome and\n look up at the stars and the other planets that swing near Urg, and I\n will talk to them and tell them how lonely Irgi is.\"\n\n\n He turned and went along a hall that opened into a broad balcony which\n stood forth directly beneath a segment of the mighty dome. He stared\n upwards, craning all his eyes to see through the darkness pressing down\n upon him.\n\n\n \"Stars,\" he whispered, \"listen to me once again. I am lonely, stars,\n and the name and fame of Irgi means nothing to the walls of my city,\n nor to the Chamber of the Cones, nor even—at times—to Irgi himself.\"\n\n\n He paused and his eyes widened, staring upwards.\n\n\n \"By the Block,\" he said to the silence about him. \"There is something\n up there that is not a star, nor a planet, nor yet a meteor.\"\n\n\n It was a spaceship.\nEmerson took his hands from the controls of the gigantic ship that\n hurtled through space, and wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. His\n grey eyes bored like a steel awl downward at the mighty globe swinging\n in the void.\n\n\n \"The last planet in our course,\" he breathed. \"Maybe it has the radium!\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" whispered the man beside him, wetting his lips with his tongue.\n \"No use to think of failure. If it hasn't, we'll die ourselves, down\n there.\"\n\n\n Radium. And the Plague. It had come on Earth suddenly, had the Plague,\n back in the first days of space travel, after Quigg, the American\n research scientist at Cal Tech, discovered a way to lift a rocket ship\n off the Earth, and propel it to the Moon.\n\n\n They had been slow, lumbering vessels, those first spaceships; not at\n all like the sleek craft that plied the voids today. But it had been a\n beginning. And no one had thought anything of it when Quigg, who had\n made the first flight through space, died of cancer.\n\n\n As the years passed to a decade, and the ships of Earth rode to Mars\n and Venus, it began to be apparent that a lifetime of space travel\n meant a hideous death. Scientists attributed it to the cosmic rays, for\n out in space there was no blanketing layer of atmosphere to protect\n the fleshy tissues of man from their piercing power. It had long been\n a theory that cosmic rays were related to the birth of new life in the\n cosmos; perhaps they were, said some, the direct cause of life. Thus by\n causing the unorderly growth of new cells that man called cancer, the\n cosmic rays were destroying the life they had created.\n\n\n It meant death to travel in space, and only the stupendous fees paid to\n the young men who believed in a short life and a merry one, kept the\n ships plying between Mars and Earth and Venus. Lead kept out the cosmic\n rays, but lead would not stand the terrific speed required to lift a\n craft free of planetary gravity; and an inner coating of lead brought\n men into port raving with lead poisoning illusions.\n\n\n Cancer cases increased on Earth. It was learned that the virulent\n form of space cancer, as it was called, was in some peculiar manner,\n contagious to a certain extent. The alarm spread. Men who voyaged in\n space were segregated, but the damage had been done.\n\n\n The Plague spread, and ravaged the peoples of three planets.\n\n\n Hospitals were set up, and precious radium used for the fight. But the\n radium was hard to come by. There was just not enough for the job.\n\n\n A ship was built, the fastest vessel ever made by man. It was designed\n for speed. It made the swiftest interplanetary craft seem a lumbering\n barge by comparison. And mankind gave it to Valentine Emerson to take\n it out among the stars to find the precious radium in sufficient\n quantities to halt the Plague.\n\n\n It had not been easy to find a crew. The three worlds knew the men\n were going to their doom. It would be a miracle if ever they reached\n a single planet, if they did not perish of space cancer before their\n first goal. Carson Nichols, whose wife and children were dying of the\n Plague, begged him for a chance. A murderer convicted to the Martian\n salt mines, Karl Mussdorf, grudgingly agreed to go along on the promise\n that he won a pardon if he ever came back. With Mussdorf went a little,\n wry-faced man named Tilford Gunn, who knew radio, cookery, and the fine\n art of pocket-picking. The two seemed inseparable.\n\n\n Now Emerson was breathing softly, \"Yes, it had better be there, or else\n we die.\"\n\n\n He ran quivering fingers over his forearm, felt the strange lumps that\n heralded cancer. Involuntarily, he shuddered.\n\n\n Steps clanged on the metal runway beneath them. Mussdorf pushed up\n through the trap and got to his feet. He was as big as Emerson, bulky\n where Emerson was lithe, granite where Emerson was chiseled steel. His\n hair was black, and his brows shaggy. A stubborn jaw shot out under\n thin, hard lips.\n\n\n \"There it is, Karl,\" said Nichols. \"Start hoping.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf scowled darkly, and spat.\n\n\n \"A hell of a way to spend my last days,\" he growled. \"I'm dying on my\n feet, and I've got to be a martyr to a billion people who don't know\n I'm alive.\"\n\n\n \"You know a better way to die, of course,\" replied Emerson.\n\n\n \"You bet I do. There's a sweet little redhead in New Mars. She'd make\n dying a pleasure. In fact,\" he chuckled softly, \"that's just the way\n I'd let her kill me.\"\nEmerson snorted, glancing down at the controls. Beneath his steady\n fingers, the ship sideslipped into the gravity tug of the looming orb,\n shuddered a moment, then eased downward.\n\n\n \"Tell Gunn to come up,\" ordered Emerson. \"No need for him to be below.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf dropped to the floor, lowered his shaggy head through the open\n trap, and bellowed. A hail from the depths of the ship answered him. A\n moment later, Gunn stood with the others: a little man with a wry smile\n twisting his features to a hard mask.\n\n\n \"Think she's got the stuff, skipper?\" he asked Emerson.\n\n\n \"The spectroscope'll tell us. Break it out.\"\n\n\n \"You bet.\"\n\n\n The ship rocked gently as Emerson set it down on a flat, rocky plain\n between two high, craggy mountains that rose abruptly from the tiny\n valley. It was just lighting as the faint rays of the suns that served\n this planet nosed their way above the peaks. Like a silver needle on a\n floor of black rock, the spacecraft bounced once, twice; then lay still.\n\n\n Within her gleaming walls, four men bent with hard faces over gleaming\n bands of color on a spectroscopic screen. With quivering fingers,\n Emerson twisted dials and switches.\n\n\n \"Hell!\" exploded Mussdorf. \"I might have known it. Not a trace.\"\n\n\n Emerson touched his forearm gently, and shuddered.\n\n\n Nichols bit his lips, and thought of Marge and the kids; Gunn licked\n his lips with a dry tongue and kept looking at Emerson.\n\n\n With one sweep of his brawny arm, Mussdorf sent the apparatus flying\n against the far wall to shatter in shards.\n\n\n No one said a word.\n\n\n Something whispered in the ship. They jerked their heads up, stood\n listening. The faint susurration swept all about them, questioning,\n curious. It came again, imperative; suddenly demanding.\n\n\n \"Gawd,\" whispered Gunn. \"Wot is it, guv'nor?\"\n\n\n Emerson shook his head, frowning, suddenly glad that the others had\n heard it, too.\n\n\n \"Maybe somebody trying to speak to us,\" stated Nichols.\n\n\n The whispers grew louder and harsher. Angry.\n\n\n \"Take it easy,\" yelled Mussdorf savagely. \"We don't know what you're\n talking about. How can we answer you, you stupid lug?\"\n\n\n Gunn giggled hysterically, \"We can't even 'alf talk 'is bloomin'\n language.\"\n\n\n The rustle ceased. The silence hung eerily in the ship. The men looked\n at one another, curious; somehow, a little nervous.\n\n\n \"What a radio\nhe\nmust have,\" said Emerson softly. \"The metal of our\n hull is his loudspeaker. That's why we heard him in all directions.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf nodded, shaggy brows knotted.\n\n\n \"We'll see what his next move is,\" he muttered. \"If he gets too fresh,\n we'll try a sun-blaster out on him.\"\n\n\n The ship began to glow softly, flushing a soft, delicate green. The\n light bathed the interior, turning the men a ghastly hue. Gunn shivered\n and looked at Emerson, who went to the port window; stood staring out,\n gasping.\n\n\n \"Wot's happenin' now?\" choked Gunn.\n\n\n \"We're off the ground! Whatever it is, it's lifting us.\"\n\n\n The others crowded about him, looking out. Here the green was more\n vivid, intense. They could feel its surging power tingling on their\n skins. Beneath them, the jagged peak of the mountain almost grazed the\n hull. Spread out under their eyes was the panorama of a dead planet.\n\n\n Great rocks lay split and tumbled over one another in a black\n desolation. Sunlight glinting on their jagged edges, made harsh\n shadows. Far to the north a mountain range shrugged its snow-topped\n peaks to a sullen sky. To the south, beyond the rocks, lay a white\n waste of desert. To the west—\n\n\n \"A city,\" yelled Nichols, \"the place is inhabited. Thank God, thank\n God—\"\n\n\n Mussdorf erupted laughter.\n\n\n \"For what? How do we know what they're like? An inhabited planet\n doesn't mean men. We found that out—several times.\"\n\n\n \"We can hope,\" said Emerson sharply. \"Maybe they have some radium,\n stored so that our spectroscope couldn't pick it up.\"\n\n\n The mighty globe that hung over the city glimmered in the morning suns.\n Beneath it, the white towers and spires of the city reared in alien\n loveliness above graceful buildings and rounded roofs. A faint mist\n seemed to hang in the city streets.\n\n\n \"It's empty,\" said Nichols heavily. \"Deserted.\"\n\n\n \"Something's alive,\" protested Emerson. \"Something that spoke to us,\n that is controlling this green beam.\"\nA section of the globe slid back, and the spaceship moved through the\n opening. The globe slipped back and locked after it.\n\n\n \"They have us now,\" grunted Mussdorf. He slid his fingers along the\n transparent window, pressing hard, the skin showing white as his\n knuckles lifted. He said swiftly, \"You guys can stay here if you want,\n but I'm getting myself a sun-blaster. Two of them. I'm not going to be\n caught short when the time for action comes.\"\n\n\n He swung through the trap and out of sight. They heard him running\n below; heard the slam of opened doors, the withdrawal of the guns. They\n could imagine him belting them about his waist.\n\n\n \"Bring us some,\" cried Emerson suddenly, and turned again to look out\n the window.\n\n\n The spaceship settled down on the white flagging of an immense square.\n The green beam was gone, suddenly. The uncanny silence of the place\n pressed in on them.\n\n\n \"Think it's safe to go out?\" asked Nichols.\n\n\n \"Try the atmospheric recorder,\" said Emerson. \"If the air's okay, I'd\n like to stretch my own legs.\"\n\n\n Nichols twisted chrome wheels, staring at a red line that wavered on a\n plastic screen, then straightened abruptly, rigid.\n\n\n \"Hey,\" yelled Nichols excitedly. \"It's pure. I mean actually pure. No\n germs. No dust. Just clean air!\"\n\n\n Emerson leaped to his side, staring, frowning.\n\n\n \"No germs. No dust. Why—that means there's no disease in this place!\n No disease.\"\n\n\n He began to laugh, then caught himself.\n\n\n \"No disease,\" he whispered, \"and every one of us is going to die of\n cancer.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf came up through the trap and passed out the sun-blasters. They\n buckled them around their waists while Mussdorf swung the bolts of the\n door. He threw it open, and clean air, and faint tendrils of whitish\n mist came swirling into the ship.\n\n\n Nichols took a deep breath and his boyish face split with a grin.\n\n\n \"I feel like a kid again on a Spring day back on Earth. You know, with\n a ball and a glove under your arm, with the sun beating down on you,\n swinging a bat and whistling. You felt good. You were young. Young! I\n feel like that now.\"\n\n\n They grinned and went through the door, dropping to the street.\n\n\n They turned.\n\n\n It was coming across the square, flowing along on vast black tentacles\n towering over twenty feet high, with a great torso seemingly sculpted\n out of living black marble. A head that held ten staring eyes looked\n down at them. Six arms thrust out of the torso, moving like tentacles,\n fringed with cilia thick as fingers.\n\n\n \"Lord,\" whispered Mussdorf. \"What is it?\"\n\n\n \"Don't know,\" said Emerson. \"Maybe it's friendly—\"\n\n\n \"Friendly?\" queried Mussdorf harshly. \"\nThat\ndoesn't know the meaning\n of the word! I'm going to let it taste a blast—\"\n\n\n His hand dove for the sun-blaster in his holster; yanked it free and\n upward, firing brilliant yellow jets as he jerked the trigger.\n\n\n \"Look\nout\n!\" yelled Emerson.\n\n\n The thing twisted sideways with an eerie grace, dodging the amber beams\n of solar power that sizzled past its bulbous head. As it moved, its\n tentacled arms and legs slithered out with unthinkable rapidity, fell\n and wrapped around Mussdorf.\n\n\n The big Earthman was lifted high into the air, squeezed until his lungs\n nearly collapsed. He hung limp in a gigantic tentacle as Emerson ran\n to one side, trying for a shot without hitting Mussdorf. But the thing\n was diabolically clever. It held Mussdorf aloft, between itself and\n Emerson, while its other arms stabbed out at Gunn and Nichols, catching\n them up and shaking them as a terrier shakes a rat.\n\n\n \"Hold on,\" called Emerson, dodging and twisting, gun in hand, seeking a\n spot to fire at.\n\n\n The thing dropped the Earthmen suddenly; its legs gathered beneath it\n and launched it full at Emerson. Caught off guard, the Earthman lifted\n his sun-blaster—felt it ripped from his fingers, knew a hard blackness\n thrashing down at him. He went backwards, sickened....\nIrgi stared at the things that lay on the white flagging. Queer beings\n they were, unlike anything Irgi had ever conceived. Only two legs, only\n two arms. And such weak little limbs! Why, an Urgian cat would make\n short work of them if an Urgian cat existed any more, and Irgi had\n never rated cats very highly.\n\n\n He looked at the spaceship, ran exploring feelers over it. He cast a\n glance back at the creatures again, and shook his head. Strange beings\n they might be, but they had mastered interplanetary travel. Well, he'd\n always maintained that life would be different on other worlds. Life\n here on Urg took different patterns.\n\n\n Irgi bent to wrap long arms about the queer beings, lifting them. His\n eyes were caught suddenly by the lumps protruding from their arms and\n legs, from face and chest. The growth disease! That was bad, but Irgi\n knew a way to cure it. Irgi knew a way to cure anything.\n\n\n He slid swiftly across the square and onto a flat, glittering ramp that\n stretched upward toward an arched doorway set like a jewel of light\n in a long, low building next to the vast, round Chamber of the Cones.\n He carried these creatures easily, without trouble. The ease of his\n passage gave him time to think.\n\n\n He had been glad to find these creatures. They were someone to\n converse with after centuries of loneliness. But as he approached them\n there in the square, calling out gladly to them, they could not hear\n him. His voice was pitched eight vibrations to the second. He wondered\n idly if that was beyond the hearing range of these two-legged things.\n He ought to check that, to be sure. Still, they had heard him on their\n ship. He had caught a confused, angry murmur on the radiation recorder.\n Perhaps the metal of the hull had in some manner made his voice audible\n to them, speeded up the vibrations to twelve or fifteen a second.\n\n\n Then there was the matter of the growth disease. He could eliminate\n that easily enough, in the Chamber of the Cones. But first they would\n have to be prepared. And the preparation—hurt. Well, better a few\n moments of agony than a death through a worse.\n\n\n And if he could not speak to them, they could speak to him, through\n their minds. Once unconscious, he could tap their memories with an\n electrigraph screen. That should be absorbing. It made Irgi happy,\n reflecting upon it, and Irgi had not known happiness for a long time.\n\n\n From the passage he hurried into a large white room, fitted with glass\n vials and ovules and glittering metal instruments, so many in number\n that the room seemed a jungle of metal. Down on flat, smooth tables\n Irgi dropped his burdens. With quick tendrils he adjusted straps to\n them, bound them securely. From a small, wheeled vehicle he took a\n metal rod and touched it to their foreheads. As it met the flesh, it\n hummed once faintly.\n\n\n \"It's short-circulated their nervous systems for a while, absorbed the\n electric charges all intelligent beings cast,\" Irgi said aloud, glad at\n this chance to exercise his voice. \"They won't be able to feel for some\n time. When the worst pain will have passed, they will recover. And now\n to examine their minds—\"\n\n\n He fitted metal clamps over their heads and screwed them tight. He\n wheeled forward a glassy screen; plugged in the cords that dangled from\n its frame to the metal clamps.\n\n\n \"I wonder if they've perfected this,\" Irgi mused. \"They must be aware\n that the brain gives off electrical waves. Perhaps they can chart\n those waves on graphs. But do they know that each curve and bend of\n those waves represents a picture? I can translate those waves into\n pictures—but can they?\"\n\n\n He slouched a little on his tentacles, squatting, gazing at the screen\n as he flipped over a lever.\n\n\n A picture quivered on the screen; grew nebulous, then cleared. Irgi\n found himself staring at a city far vaster than Urg. Grim white\n towers peaked high into the air, and broad, flat ramps circled them,\n interwoven like ribbons in the sunlight. On the tallest and largest\n buildings were great fields of metal painted a dull luster, where\n queerly wrought flying ships landed and took off.\n\n\n The scene changed suddenly. He looked into a hospital room and watched\n a pretty young woman smiling up at him. She too, had the growth\n disease. Now he beheld the mighty salt mines where naked men swung huge\n picks at the crusted crystals, sweating and dying under a strange sun.\n Even these remnants of humanity festered with the growth.\n\n\n A tall, lean man in white looked out at him. His lips moved, and Irgi\n read their meaning. This man spoke to one named Emerson, commissioning\n him with a spaceship, reciting the need of radium, the dread of the\n plague. The thoughts of this Emerson were coming in clearer, as Irgi in\n sudden interest, flipped over different dials. The unspoken thoughts\n pouring into his brain through the screen continued. The words he did\n not understand, but the necessity for radium, and the danger of the\n growth disease he did. The pictures jumbled, grew chameleonesque—\n\n\n Irgi stared upward at a colossal figure graven in lucent white marble.\n He made out the letters chiseled into the base: GEORGE WASHINGTON. He\n wondered idly what this Washington had done, to merit such undying\n fame. He must have created a nation, or saved it. He wished there were\n Urgians alive to build a statue to\nhim\n.\n\n\n He rose suddenly, standing upright on his tentacles, swaying gently.\n Why, he had the power to make himself immortal! These creatures would\n gladly build statues to him! True, he could not create a nation—\nbut\n he could save it\n!\n\n\n Irgi unfastened clamps, and rolled the screen aside. He reached to a\n series of black knobs inset in the wall, and turned them carefully.\n Turning, he saw the figures of the four men stiffen to rigidity as a\n red aura drifted upward from the tabletop, passing through them as if\n they were mist, rising upwards to dissipate in the air near the ceiling.\n\n\n \"That will prepare their bodies for the Chamber of the Cones,\" he said.\n \"When they realize that I am their friend, they will gladly hear my\n counsels!\"\n\n\n Opening the laboratory door, Irgi passed out and closed it behind him.\nIt was the sweat of agony trickling down his forehead and over his eyes\n and cheeks that woke Emerson. He opened his eyes, then clamped them\n shut as his body writhed in pain.\n\n\n \"Oh, Lord!\" he whimpered, bloodying his mouth where his teeth sank into\n his lips.\n\n\n In every fibre of his body sharp lancets cut and dug. In arms and legs\n and chest and belly they twisted and tore. Into the tissues beneath his\n skin, all along the muscles and the bone, the fiery torment played. He\n could not stand it; he could not—\n\n\n He flipped his head to right, to left; saw the others stretched out\n and strapped even as he. They were unconscious. What right had they to\n ignore this agony? Why didn't they share it with him? He opened his\n lips to shriek; then bit down again, hard.\n\n\n Nichols screamed suddenly, his body aching.\n\n\n It woke the others. They too, bellowed and screamed and sobbed, and\n their arms and legs writhed like wild things in a trap.\n\n\n \"Got to get free,\" Emerson panted, straining against the wristbands.\n The hard muscles of his arms ridged with effort, but the straps held.\n He dropped back, sobbing.\n\n\n \"That fiend,\" yelled Mussdorf. \"That ten-eyed, octopus-legged,\n black-hearted spawn of a mismated monster did this to us. Damn him!\n Damn him! If I ever get loose I'll cut his heart out and make him eat\n it.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe—maybe he's vivisecting us,\" moaned Nichols. \"With rays or—or\n something—aagh! I can't stand it!\"\n\n\n \"Hang on, kid,\" gritted Emerson, fighting the straps. \"I think it's\n lessening. Yeah, yeah—it is. It doesn't hurt so much now.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf grunted astonishment.\n\n\n \"You're right. It is lessening. And—hey, one of my arm buckles is\n coming loose. It's torn a little. Maybe I can work it free.\"\n\n\n They turned their heads to watch, biting their lips, the sweat standing\n in colorless beads on their pale foreheads. Mussdorf's thick arm bulged\n its muscles as he wrenched and tugged, panting. A buckle swung outward,\n clanging against the tabletop as it ripped loose. Mussdorf held his arm\n aloft and laughed harsh triumph.\n\n\n \"I'll have you all loose in a second,\" he grunted, ripping straps from\n his body.\n\n\n He leaped from the table and stretched. He grinned into their faces.\n\n\n \"You know, it's funny—but I feel great. Huh, I must've sweated all the\n aches out of me. Here, Gunn—you first.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks, Karl. We're still pals, aren't we?\"\n\n\n When Gunn was free, Mussdorf came to stand over Emerson, looking down\n at him. His eyes narrowed suddenly. He grinned a little, twisting his\n lips.\n\n\n \"Maybe you fellows ought to stay tied up,\" he said. \"In case that—that\n thing comes back. He won't blame us all for the break we're making.\"\n\n\n \"Not on your life,\" said Emerson.\n\n\n But Mussdorf shook his head, and his lips tightened.\n\n\n \"No. No, I think it's better the way I say.\"\n\n\n \"Don't be a fool, Mussdorf,\" snapped Emerson savagely. \"It isn't your\n place to think, anyhow. That's mine. I'm commander of this force. What\n I say is an order.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf grinned dryly. Into his eyes came a glint of hot, sullen anger.\n\n\n \"You were our commander—out there, in space. We're on a planet now.\n Things are different. I want to learn the secret of those mists,\n Emerson. Something tells me I'd get a fortune for it, on Earth.\"\n\n\n Emerson squirmed helplessly, cursing him, saying, \"What's gotten into\n you?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing new. Remember me, Karl Mussdorf? I'm a convict, I am. A salt\n mine convict. I'd have done anything to get out of that boiling hell. I\n volunteered to go with you for the radium. Me and Gunn. Nichols doesn't\n count. He came on account of his wife and kids. We were the only two\n who'd come. Convicts, both of us.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What did Irgi find that could have helped his people if it weren't too late?", "question_unique_id": "63645_THY3SLLH_1", "options": ["The mist and the globe of transparent metal", "Only the mist", "The mist and the blue light", "The mist and the invisible beam"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What caused the plague on earth?", "question_unique_id": "63645_THY3SLLH_2", "options": ["It was a microbe from space travel", "It was a form of contagious cancer", "It was caused by cosmic rays that reached earth", "It was caused by radium"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Where did the spaceship land?", "question_unique_id": "63645_THY3SLLH_3", "options": ["South of the rocks", "North of the desert", "East of the mountains", "West of the city"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Nichols reminisce about?", "question_unique_id": "63645_THY3SLLH_4", "options": ["Being with his family", "Playing baseball", "Breathing fresh air on earth", "Shooting the monster with a sun blaster"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Irgi feel after meeting the men?", "question_unique_id": "63645_THY3SLLH_5", "options": ["Surprised at the way they looked", "Confused about why they were there", "Disappointed they could not speak to him through their minds", "Happy they had a disease"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Irgi do to the men in the lab?", "question_unique_id": "63645_THY3SLLH_6", "options": ["Vivisected them with rays", "Prepared them for the chamber", "Burned them with fire", "Cut them with sharp lancets"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who inspired Irgi to work to help the people of earth?", "question_unique_id": "63645_THY3SLLH_7", "options": ["Mussdorf", "Emerson", "Nichols", "Washington"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the most likely reason Irgi was the last of his people?", "question_unique_id": "63645_THY3SLLH_8", "options": ["They were killed in an invasion", "They died from a disease caused by a microbe", "They moved to another planet", "They died from cancer"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/4/63645//63645-h//63645-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61146", "set_unique_id": "61146_1K27MAZN", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Retief of the Red-Tape Mountain", "year": 1955, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "Diplomats -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Science fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Short stories; PS; Retief (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Space colonies -- Fiction", "article": "RETIEF OF THE RED-TAPE MOUNTAIN\nby KEITH LAUMER\nRetief knew the importance of sealed\n\n orders—and the need to keep them that way!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, May 1962.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"It's true,\" Consul Passwyn said, \"I requested assignment as principal\n officer at a small post. But I had in mind one of those charming resort\n worlds, with only an occasional visa problem, or perhaps a distressed\n spaceman or two a year. Instead, I'm zoo-keeper to these confounded\n settlers. And not for one world, mind you, but eight!\" He stared glumly\n at Vice-Consul Retief.\n\n\n \"Still,\" Retief said, \"it gives an opportunity to travel—\"\n\n\n \"Travel!\" the consul barked. \"I hate travel. Here in this backwater\n system particularly—\" He paused, blinked at Retief and cleared his\n throat. \"Not that a bit of travel isn't an excellent thing for a\n junior officer. Marvelous experience.\"\n\n\n He turned to the wall-screen and pressed a button. A system triagram\n appeared: eight luminous green dots arranged around a larger disk\n representing the primary. He picked up a pointer, indicating the\n innermost planet.\n\n\n \"The situation on Adobe is nearing crisis. The confounded settlers—a\n mere handful of them—have managed, as usual, to stir up trouble with\n an intelligent indigenous life form, the Jaq. I can't think why they\n bother, merely for a few oases among the endless deserts. However I\n have, at last, received authorization from Sector Headquarters to\n take certain action.\" He swung back to face Retief. \"I'm sending you\n in to handle the situation, Retief—under sealed orders.\" He picked\n up a fat buff envelope. \"A pity they didn't see fit to order the\n Terrestrial settlers out weeks ago, as I suggested. Now it is too late.\n I'm expected to produce a miracle—a rapprochement between Terrestrial\n and Adoban and a division of territory. It's idiotic. However, failure\n would look very bad in my record, so I shall expect results.\"\n\n\n He passed the buff envelope across to Retief.\n\n\n \"I understood that Adobe was uninhabited,\" Retief said, \"until the\n Terrestrial settlers arrived.\"\n\n\n \"Apparently, that was an erroneous impression.\" Passwyn fixed Retief\n with a watery eye. \"You'll follow your instructions to the letter. In a\n delicate situation such as this, there must be no impulsive, impromptu\n element introduced. This approach has been worked out in detail at\n Sector. You need merely implement it. Is that entirely clear?\"\n\n\n \"Has anyone at Headquarters ever visited Adobe?\"\n\n\n \"Of course not. They all hate travel. If there are no other questions,\n you'd best be on your way. The mail run departs the dome in less than\n an hour.\"\n\n\n \"What's this native life form like?\" Retief asked, getting to his feet.\n\n\n \"When you get back,\" said Passwyn, \"you tell me.\"\nThe mail pilot, a leathery veteran with quarter-inch whiskers, spat\n toward a stained corner of the compartment, leaned close to the screen.\n\n\n \"They's shootin' goin' on down there,\" he said. \"See them white puffs\n over the edge of the desert?\"\n\n\n \"I'm supposed to be preventing the war,\" said Retief. \"It looks like\n I'm a little late.\"\n\n\n The pilot's head snapped around. \"War?\" he yelped. \"Nobody told me they\n was a war goin' on on 'Dobe. If that's what that is, I'm gettin' out of\n here.\"\n\n\n \"Hold on,\" said Retief. \"I've got to get down. They won't shoot at you.\"\n\n\n \"They shore won't, sonny. I ain't givin' 'em the chance.\" He started\n punching keys on the console. Retief reached out, caught his wrist.\n\n\n \"Maybe you didn't hear me. I said I've got to get down.\"\n\n\n The pilot plunged against the restraint, swung a punch that Retief\n blocked casually. \"Are you nuts?\" the pilot screeched. \"They's plenty\n shootin' goin' on fer me to see it fifty miles out.\"\n\n\n \"The mail must go through, you know.\"\n\n\n \"Okay! You're so dead set on gettin' killed, you take the skiff. I'll\n tell 'em to pick up the remains next trip.\"\n\n\n \"You're a pal. I'll take your offer.\"\n\n\n The pilot jumped to the lifeboat hatch and cycled it open. \"Get in.\n We're closin' fast. Them birds might take it into their heads to lob\n one this way....\"\n\n\n Retief crawled into the narrow cockpit of the skiff, glanced over the\n controls. The pilot ducked out of sight, came back, handed Retief a\n heavy old-fashioned power pistol. \"Long as you're goin' in, might as\n well take this.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks.\" Retief shoved the pistol in his belt. \"I hope you're wrong.\"\n\n\n \"I'll see they pick you up when the shootin's over—one way or another.\"\n\n\n The hatch clanked shut. A moment later there was a jar as the skiff\n dropped away, followed by heavy buffeting in the backwash from the\n departing mail boat. Retief watched the tiny screen, hands on the\n manual controls. He was dropping rapidly: forty miles, thirty-nine....\n\n\n A crimson blip showed on the screen, moving out.\n\n\n Retief felt sweat pop out on his forehead. The red blip meant heavy\n radiation from a warhead. Somebody was playing around with an outlawed\n but by no means unheard of fission weapon. But maybe it was just on a\n high trajectory and had no connection with the skiff....\n\n\n Retief altered course to the south. The blip followed.\n\n\n He checked instrument readings, gripped the controls, watching. This\n was going to be tricky. The missile bored closer. At five miles Retief\n threw the light skiff into maximum acceleration, straight toward the\n oncoming bomb. Crushed back in the padded seat, he watched the screen,\n correcting course minutely. The proximity fuse should be set for no\n more than 1000 yards.\n\n\n At a combined speed of two miles per second, the skiff flashed past\n the missile, and Retief was slammed violently against the restraining\n harness in the concussion of the explosion ... a mile astern, and\n harmless.\n\n\n Then the planetary surface was rushing up with frightening speed.\n Retief shook his head, kicked in the emergency retro-drive. Points\n of light arced up from the planet face below. If they were ordinary\n chemical warheads the skiff's meteor screens should handle them. The\n screen flashed brilliant white, then went dark. The skiff flipped on\n its back. Smoke filled the tiny compartment. There was a series of\n shocks, a final bone-shaking concussion, then stillness, broken by the\n ping of hot metal contracting.\nCoughing, Retief disengaged himself from the shock-webbing. He beat\n out sparks in his lap, groped underfoot for the hatch and wrenched it\n open. A wave of hot jungle air struck him. He lowered himself to a bed\n of shattered foliage, got to his feet ... and dropped flat as a bullet\n whined past his ear.\n\n\n He lay listening. Stealthy movements were audible from the left.\n\n\n He inched his way to the shelter of a broad-boled dwarf tree. Somewhere\n a song lizard burbled. Whining insects circled, scented alien life,\n buzzed off. There was another rustle of foliage from the underbrush\n five yards away. A bush quivered, then a low bough dipped.\n\n\n Retief edged back around the trunk, eased down behind a fallen log.\n A stocky man in grimy leather shirt and shorts appeared, moving\n cautiously, a pistol in his hand.\n\n\n As he passed, Retief rose, leaped the log and tackled him.\n\n\n They went down together. The stranger gave one short yell, then\n struggled in silence. Retief flipped him onto his back, raised a fist—\n\n\n \"Hey!\" the settler yelled. \"You're as human as I am!\"\n\n\n \"Maybe I'll look better after a shave,\" said Retief. \"What's the idea\n of shooting at me?\"\n\n\n \"Lemme up. My name's Potter. Sorry 'bout that. I figured it was a\n Flap-jack boat; looks just like 'em. I took a shot when I saw something\n move. Didn't know it was a Terrestrial. Who are you? What you doin'\n here? We're pretty close to the edge of the oases. That's Flap-jack\n country over there.\" He waved a hand toward the north, where the desert\n lay.\n\n\n \"I'm glad you're a poor shot. That missile was too close for comfort.\"\n\n\n \"Missile, eh? Must be Flap-jack artillery. We got nothing like that.\"\n\n\n \"I heard there was a full-fledged war brewing,\" said Retief. \"I didn't\n expect—\"\n\n\n \"Good!\" Potter said. \"We figured a few of you boys from Ivory would be\n joining up when you heard. You are from Ivory?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. I'm—\"\n\n\n \"Hey, you must be Lemuel's cousin. Good night! I pretty near made a bad\n mistake. Lemuel's a tough man to explain something to.\"\n\n\n \"I'm—\"\n\n\n \"Keep your head down. These damn Flap-jacks have got some wicked hand\n weapons. Come on....\" He moved off silently on all fours. Retief\n followed. They crossed two hundred yards of rough country before Potter\n got to his feet, took out a soggy bandana and mopped his face.\n\n\n \"You move good for a city man. I thought you folks on Ivory just sat\n under those domes and read dials. But I guess bein' Lemuel's cousin you\n was raised different.\"\n\n\n \"As a matter of fact—\"\n\n\n \"Have to get you some real clothes, though. Those city duds don't stand\n up on 'Dobe.\"\n\n\n Retief looked down at the charred, torn and sweat-soaked powder-blue\n blazer and slacks.\n\n\n \"This outfit seemed pretty rough-and-ready back home,\" he said. \"But I\n guess leather has its points.\"\n\n\n \"Let's get on back to camp. We'll just about make it by sundown.\n And, look. Don't say anything to Lemuel about me thinking you were a\n Flap-jack.\"\n\n\n \"I won't, but—\"\n\n\n Potter was on his way, loping off up a gentle slope. Retief pulled off\n the sodden blazer, dropped it over a bush, added his string tie and\n followed Potter.\nII\n\n\n \"We're damn glad you're here, mister,\" said a fat man with two\n revolvers belted across his paunch. \"We can use every hand. We're in\n bad shape. We ran into the Flap-jacks three months ago and we haven't\n made a smart move since. First, we thought they were a native form we\n hadn't run into before. Fact is, one of the boys shot one, thinkin' it\n was fair game. I guess that was the start of it.\" He stirred the fire,\n added a stick.\n\n\n \"And then a bunch of 'em hit Swazey's farm here,\" Potter said. \"Killed\n two of his cattle, and pulled back.\"\n\n\n \"I figure they thought the cows were people,\" said Swazey. \"They were\n out for revenge.\"\n\n\n \"How could anybody think a cow was folks?\" another man put in. \"They\n don't look nothin' like—\"\n\n\n \"Don't be so dumb, Bert,\" said Swazey. \"They'd never seen Terries\n before. They know better now.\"\n\n\n Bert chuckled. \"Sure do. We showed 'em the next time, didn't we,\n Potter? Got four.\"\n\n\n \"They walked right up to my place a couple days after the first time,\"\n Swazey said. \"We were ready for 'em. Peppered 'em good. They cut and\n run.\"\n\n\n \"Flopped, you mean. Ugliest lookin' critters you ever saw. Look just\n like a old piece of dirty blanket humpin' around.\"\n\n\n \"It's been goin' on this way ever since. They raid and then we raid.\n But lately they've been bringing some big stuff into it. They've got\n some kind of pint-sized airships and automatic rifles. We've lost four\n men now and a dozen more in the freezer, waiting for the med ship. We\n can't afford it. The colony's got less than three hundred able-bodied\n men.\"\n\n\n \"But we're hanging onto our farms,\" said Potter. \"All these oases are\n old sea-beds—a mile deep, solid topsoil. And there's a couple of\n hundred others we haven't touched yet. The Flap-jacks won't get 'em\n while there's a man alive.\"\n\n\n \"The whole system needs the food we can raise,\" Bert said. \"These farms\n we're trying to start won't be enough but they'll help.\"\n\n\n \"We been yellin' for help to the CDT, over on Ivory,\" said Potter. \"But\n you know these Embassy stooges.\"\n\n\n \"We heard they were sending some kind of bureaucrat in here to tell\n us to get out and give the oases to the Flap-jacks,\" said Swazey. He\n tightened his mouth. \"We're waitin' for him....\"\n\n\n \"Meanwhile we got reinforcements comin' up, eh, boys?\" Bert winked at\n Retief. \"We put out the word back home. We all got relatives on Ivory\n and Verde.\"\n\n\n \"Shut up, you damn fool!\" a deep voice grated.\n\n\n \"Lemuel!\" Potter said. \"Nobody else could sneak up on us like that.\"\n\n\n \"If I'd a been a Flap-jack; I'd of et you alive,\" the newcomer said,\n moving into the ring of fire, a tall, broad-faced man in grimy leather.\n He eyed Retief.\n\n\n \"Who's that?\"\n\n\n \"What do ya mean?\" Potter spoke in the silence. \"He's your cousin....\"\n\n\n \"He ain't no cousin of mine,\" Lemuel said slowly. He stepped to Retief.\n\n\n \"Who you spyin' for, stranger?\" he rasped.\nRetief got to his feet. \"I think I should explain—\"\n\n\n A short-nosed automatic appeared in Lemuel's hand, a clashing note\n against his fringed buckskins.\n\n\n \"Skip the talk. I know a fink when I see one.\"\n\n\n \"Just for a change, I'd like to finish a sentence,\" said Retief. \"And I\n suggest you put your courage back in your pocket before it bites you.\"\n\n\n \"You talk too damned fancy to suit me.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe. But I'm talking to suit me. Now, for the last time, put it\n away.\"\n\n\n Lemuel stared at Retief. \"You givin' me orders...?\"\n\n\n Retief's left fist shot out, smacked Lemuel's face dead center. He\n stumbled back, blood starting from his nose; the pistol fired into the\n dirt as he dropped it. He caught himself, jumped for Retief ... and met\n a straight right that snapped him onto his back: out cold.\n\n\n \"Wow!\" said Potter. \"The stranger took Lem ... in two punches!\"\n\n\n \"One,\" said Swazey. \"That first one was just a love tap.\"\n\n\n Bert froze. \"Hark, boys,\" he whispered. In the sudden silence a night\n lizard called. Retief strained, heard nothing. He narrowed his eyes,\n peered past the fire—\n\n\n With a swift lunge he seized up the bucket of drinking water, dashed it\n over the fire, threw himself flat. He heard the others hit the dirt a\n split second behind him.\n\n\n \"You move fast for a city man,\" breathed Swazey beside him. \"You see\n pretty good too. We'll split and take 'em from two sides. You and Bert\n from the left, me and Potter from the right.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" said Retief. \"You wait here. I'm going out alone.\"\n\n\n \"What's the idea...?\"\n\n\n \"Later. Sit tight and keep your eyes open.\" Retief took a bearing on a\n treetop faintly visible against the sky and started forward.\nFive minutes' stealthy progress brought him to a slight rise of ground.\n With infinite caution he raised himself, risking a glance over an\n out-cropping of rock.\n\n\n The stunted trees ended just ahead. Beyond, he could make out the dim\n contour of rolling desert. Flap-jack country. He got to his feet,\n clambered over the stone—still hot after a day of tropical heat—and\n moved forward twenty yards. Around him he saw nothing but drifted sand,\n palely visible in the starlight, and the occasional shadow of jutting\n shale slabs. Behind him the jungle was still.\n\n\n He sat down on the ground to wait.\n\n\n It was ten minutes before a movement caught his eye. Something had\n separated itself from a dark mass of stone, glided across a few yards\n of open ground to another shelter. Retief watched. Minutes passed. The\n shape moved again, slipped into a shadow ten feet distant. Retief felt\n the butt of the power pistol with his elbow. His guess had better be\n right this time....\n\n\n There was a sudden rasp, like leather against concrete, and a flurry of\n sand as the Flap-jack charged.\n\n\n Retief rolled aside, then lunged, threw his weight on the flopping\n Flap-jack—a yard square, three inches thick at the center and all\n muscle. The ray-like creature heaved up, curled backward, its edge\n rippling, to stand on the flattened rim of its encircling sphincter.\n It scrabbled with prehensile fringe-tentacles for a grip on Retief's\n shoulders. He wrapped his arms around the alien and struggled to his\n feet. The thing was heavy. A hundred pounds at least. Fighting as it\n was, it seemed more like five hundred.\n\n\n The Flap-jack reversed its tactics, went limp. Retief grabbed, felt a\n thumb slip into an orifice—\n\n\n The alien went wild. Retief hung on, dug the thumb in deeper.\n\n\n \"Sorry, fellow,\" he muttered between clenched teeth. \"Eye-gouging isn't\n gentlemanly, but it's effective....\"\n\n\n The Flap-jack fell still, only its fringes rippling slowly. Retief\n relaxed the pressure of his thumb; the alien gave a tentative jerk; the\n thumb dug in.\n\n\n The alien went limp again, waiting.\n\n\n \"Now we understand each other,\" said Retief. \"Take me to your leader.\"\nTwenty minutes' walk into the desert brought Retief to a low rampart\n of thorn branches: the Flap-jacks' outer defensive line against Terry\n forays. It would be as good a place as any to wait for the move by the\n Flap-jacks. He sat down and eased the weight of his captive off his\n back, but kept a firm thumb in place. If his analysis of the situation\n was correct, a Flap-jack picket should be along before too long....\n\n\n A penetrating beam of red light struck Retief in the face, blinked off.\n He got to his feet. The captive Flap-jack rippled its fringe in an\n agitated way. Retief tensed his thumb in the eye-socket.\n\n\n \"Sit tight,\" he said. \"Don't try to do anything hasty....\" His remarks\n were falling on deaf ears—or no ears at all—but the thumb spoke as\n loudly as words.\n\n\n There was a slither of sand. Another. He became aware of a ring of\n presences drawing closer.\n\n\n Retief tightened his grip on the alien. He could see a dark shape now,\n looming up almost to his own six-three. It looked like the Flap-jacks\n came in all sizes.\n\n\n A low rumble sounded, like a deep-throated growl. It strummed on, faded\n out. Retief cocked his head, frowning.\n\n\n \"Try it two octaves higher,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Awwrrp! Sorry. Is that better?\" a clear voice came from the darkness.\n\n\n \"That's fine,\" Retief said. \"I'm here to arrange a prisoner exchange.\"\n\n\n \"Prisoners? But we have no prisoners.\"\n\n\n \"Sure you have. Me. Is it a deal?\"\n\n\n \"Ah, yes, of course. Quite equitable. What guarantees do you require?\"\n\n\n \"The word of a gentleman is sufficient.\" Retief released the alien. It\n flopped once, disappeared into the darkness.\n\n\n \"If you'd care to accompany me to our headquarters,\" the voice said,\n \"we can discuss our mutual concerns in comfort.\"\n\n\n \"Delighted.\"\n\n\n Red lights blinked briefly. Retief glimpsed a gap in the thorny\n barrier, stepped through it. He followed dim shapes across warm sand to\n a low cave-like entry, faintly lit with a reddish glow.\n\n\n \"I must apologize for the awkward design of our comfort-dome,\" said the\n voice. \"Had we known we would be honored by a visit—\"\n\n\n \"Think nothing of it,\" Retief said. \"We diplomats are trained to crawl.\"\n\n\n Inside, with knees bent and head ducked under the five-foot ceiling,\n Retief looked around at the walls of pink-toned nacre, a floor like\n burgundy-colored glass spread with silken rugs and a low table of\n polished red granite that stretched down the center of the spacious\n room, set out with silver dishes and rose-crystal drinking-tubes.\nIII\n\n\n \"Let me congratulate you,\" the voice said.\n\n\n Retief turned. An immense Flap-jack, hung with crimson trappings,\n rippled at his side. The voice issued from a disk strapped to its back.\n \"You fight well. I think we will find in each other worthy adversaries.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks. I'm sure the test would be interesting, but I'm hoping we can\n avoid it.\"\n\n\n \"Avoid it?\" Retief heard a low humming coming from the speaker in the\n silence. \"Well, let us dine,\" the mighty Flap-jack said at last. \"We\n can resolve these matters later. I am called Hoshick of the Mosaic of\n the Two Dawns.\"\n\n\n \"I'm Retief.\" Hoshick waited expectantly, \"... of the Mountain of Red\n Tape,\" Retief added.\n\n\n \"Take place, Retief,\" said Hoshick. \"I hope you won't find our rude\n couches uncomfortable.\" Two other large Flap-jacks came into the room,\n communed silently with Hoshick. \"Pray forgive our lack of translating\n devices,\" he said to Retief. \"Permit me to introduce my colleagues....\"\n\n\n A small Flap-jack rippled the chamber bearing on its back a silver tray\n laden with aromatic food. The waiter served the four diners, filled the\n drinking tubes with yellow wine. It smelled good.\n\n\n \"I trust you'll find these dishes palatable,\" said Hoshick. \"Our\n metabolisms are much alike, I believe.\" Retief tried the food. It had a\n delicious nut-like flavor. The wine was indistinguishable from Chateau\n d'Yquem.\n\n\n \"It was an unexpected pleasure to encounter your party here,\"\n said Hoshick. \"I confess at first we took you for an indigenous\n earth-grubbing form, but we were soon disabused of that notion.\" He\n raised a tube, manipulating it deftly with his fringe tentacles. Retief\n returned the salute and drank.\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Hoshick continued, \"as soon as we realized that you were\n sportsmen like ourselves, we attempted to make amends by providing a\n bit of activity for you. We've ordered out our heavier equipment and a\n few trained skirmishers and soon we'll be able to give you an adequate\n show. Or so I hope.\"\n\n\n \"Additional skirmishers?\" said Retief. \"How many, if you don't mind my\n asking?\"\n\n\n \"For the moment, perhaps only a few hundred. There-after ... well,\n I'm sure we can arrange that between us. Personally I would prefer a\n contest of limited scope. No nuclear or radiation-effect weapons. Such\n a bore, screening the spawn for deviations. Though I confess we've come\n upon some remarkably useful sports. The rangerform such as you made\n captive, for example. Simple-minded, of course, but a fantastically\n keen tracker.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, by all means,\" Retief said. \"No atomics. As you pointed out,\n spawn-sorting is a nuisance, and then too, it's wasteful of troops.\"\n\n\n \"Ah, well, they are after all expendable. But we agree: no atomics.\n Have you tried the ground-gwack eggs? Rather a specialty of my\n Mosaic....\"\n\n\n \"Delicious,\" said Retief. \"I wonder. Have you considered eliminating\n weapons altogether?\"\nA scratchy sound issued from the disk. \"Pardon my laughter,\" Hoshick\n said, \"but surely you jest?\"\n\n\n \"As a matter of fact,\" said Retief, \"we ourselves seldom use weapons.\"\n\n\n \"I seem to recall that our first contact of skirmishforms involved the\n use of a weapon by one of your units.\"\n\n\n \"My apologies,\" said Retief. \"The—ah—the skirmishform failed to\n recognize that he was dealing with a sportsman.\"\n\n\n \"Still, now that we have commenced so merrily with weapons....\" Hoshick\n signaled and the servant refilled tubes.\n\n\n \"There is an aspect I haven't yet mentioned,\" Retief went on. \"I hope\n you won't take this personally, but the fact is, our skirmishforms\n think of weapons as something one employs only in dealing with certain\n specific life-forms.\"\n\n\n \"Oh? Curious. What forms are those?\"\n\n\n \"Vermin. Or 'varmints' as some call them. Deadly antagonists, but\n lacking in caste. I don't want our skirmishforms thinking of such\n worthy adversaries as yourself as varmints.\"\n\n\n \"Dear me! I hadn't realized, of course. Most considerate of you to\n point it out.\" Hoshick clucked in dismay. \"I see that skirmishforms are\n much the same among you as with us: lacking in perception.\" He laughed\n scratchily. \"Imagine considering us as—what was the word?—varmints.\"\n\n\n \"Which brings us to the crux of the matter. You see, we're up against\n a serious problem with regard to skirmishforms. A low birth rate.\n Therefore we've reluctantly taken to substitutes for the mass actions\n so dear to the heart of the sportsman. We've attempted to put an end to\n these contests altogether....\"\n\n\n Hoshick coughed explosively, sending a spray of wine into the air.\n \"What are you saying?\" he gasped. \"Are you proposing that Hoshick of\n the Mosaic of the Two Dawns abandon honor....?\"\n\n\n \"Sir!\" said Retief sternly. \"You forget yourself. I, Retief of the Red\n Tape Mountain, make an alternate proposal more in keeping with the\n newest sporting principles.\"\n\n\n \"New?\" cried Hoshick. \"My dear Retief, what a pleasant surprise! I'm\n enthralled with novel modes. One gets so out of touch. Do elaborate.\"\n\n\n \"It's quite simple, really. Each side selects a representative and the\n two individuals settle the issue between them.\"\n\n\n \"I ... um ... fear I don't understand. What possible significance could\n one attach to the activities of a couple of random skirmishforms?\"\n\n\n \"I haven't made myself clear,\" said Retief. He took a sip of wine. \"We\n don't involve the skirmishforms at all. That's quite passe.\"\n\n\n \"You don't mean...?\"\n\n\n \"That's right. You and me.\"\nOutside on the starlit sand Retief tossed aside the power pistol,\n followed it with the leather shirt Swazey had lent him. By the faint\n light he could just make out the towering figure of the Flap-jack\n rearing up before him, his trappings gone. A silent rank of Flap-jack\n retainers were grouped behind him.\n\n\n \"I fear I must lay aside the translator now, Retief,\" said Hoshick.\n He sighed and rippled his fringe tentacles. \"My spawn-fellows will\n never credit this. Such a curious turn fashion has taken. How much\n more pleasant it is to observe the action of the skirmishforms from a\n distance.\"\n\n\n \"I suggest we use Tennessee rules,\" said Retief. \"They're very liberal.\n Biting, gouging, stomping, kneeing and of course choking, as well as\n the usual punching, shoving and kicking.\"\n\n\n \"Hmmm. These gambits seem geared to forms employing rigid\n endo-skeletons; I fear I shall be at a disadvantage.\"\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Retief said, \"if you'd prefer a more plebeian type of\n contest....\"\n\n\n \"By no means. But perhaps we could rule out tentacle-twisting, just to\n even it.\"\n\n\n \"Very well. Shall we begin?\"\n\n\n With a rush Hoshick threw himself at Retief, who ducked, whirled, and\n leaped on the Flap-jack's back ... and felt himself flipped clear by\n a mighty ripple of the alien's slab-like body. Retief rolled aside\n as Hoshick turned on him; he jumped to his feet and threw a right\n hay-maker to Hoshick's mid-section. The alien whipped his left fringe\n around in an arc that connected with Retief's jaw, sent him spinning\n onto his back ... and Hoshick's weight struck him.\nRetief twisted, tried to roll. The flat body of the alien blanketed\n him. He worked an arm free, drumming blows on the leathery back.\n Hoshick nestled closer.\n\n\n Retief's air was running out. He heaved up against the smothering\n weight. Nothing budged.\n\n\n It was like burial under a dump-truck-load of concrete.\n\n\n He remembered the rangerform he had captured. The sensitive orifice\n had been placed ventrally, in what would be the thoracic area....\n\n\n He groped, felt tough hide set with horny granules. He would be missing\n skin tomorrow ... if there was a tomorrow. His thumb found the orifice\n and probed.\n\n\n The Flap-jack recoiled. Retief held fast, probed deeper, groping with\n the other hand. If the alien were bilaterally symmetrical there would\n be a set of ready made hand-holds....\nThere were.\n\n\n Retief dug in and the Flap-jack writhed, pulled away. Retief held on,\n scrambled to his feet, threw his weight against the alien and fell on\n top of him, still gouging. Hoshick rippled his fringe wildly, flopped\n in terror, then went limp.\n\n\n Retief relaxed, released his hold and got to his feet, breathing hard.\n Hoshick humped himself over onto his ventral side, lifted and moved\n gingerly over to the sidelines. His retainers came forward, assisted\n him into his trappings, strapped on the translator. He sighed heavily,\n adjusted the volume.\n\n\n \"There is much to be said for the old system,\" he said. \"What a burden\n one's sportsmanship places on one at times.\"\n\n\n \"Great sport, wasn't it?\" said Retief. \"Now, I know you'll be eager to\n continue. If you'll just wait while I run back and fetch some of our\n gougerforms—\"\n\n\n \"May hide-ticks devour the gougerforms!\" Hoshick bellowed. \"You've\n given me such a sprong-ache as I'll remember each spawning-time for a\n year.\"\n\n\n \"Speaking of hide-ticks,\" said Retief, \"we've developed a biterform—\"\n\n\n \"Enough!\" Hoshick roared, so loudly that the translator bounced on his\n hide. \"Suddenly I yearn for the crowded yellow sands of Jaq. I had\n hoped....\" He broke off, drew a rasping breath. \"I had hoped, Retief,\"\n he said, speaking sadly now, \"to find a new land here where I might\n plan my own Mosaic, till these alien sands and bring forth such a crop\n of paradise-lichen as should glut the markets of a hundred worlds. But\n my spirit is not equal to the prospect of biterforms and gougerforms\n without end. I am shamed before you....\"\n\n\n \"To tell you the truth, I'm old-fashioned myself. I'd rather watch the\n action from a distance too.\"\n\n\n \"But surely your spawn-fellows would never condone such an attitude.\"\n\n\n \"My spawn-fellows aren't here. And besides, didn't I mention it? No\n one who's really in the know would think of engaging in competition by\n mere combat if there were any other way. Now, you mentioned tilling the\n sand, raising lichens—things like that—\"\n\n\n \"That on which we dined but now,\" said Hoshick, \"and from which the\n wine is made.\"\n\n\n \"The big news in fashionable diplomacy today is farming competition.\n Now, if you'd like to take these deserts and raise lichen, we'll\n promise to stick to the oases and vegetables.\"\n\n\n Hoshick curled his back in attention. \"Retief, you're quite serious?\n You would leave all the fair sand hills to us?\"\n\n\n \"The whole works, Hoshick. I'll take the oases.\"\n\n\n Hoshick rippled his fringes ecstatically. \"Once again you have outdone\n me, Retief,\" he cried. \"This time, in generosity.\"\n\n\n \"We'll talk over the details later. I'm sure we can establish a set of\n rules that will satisfy all parties. Now I've got to get back. I think\n some of the gougerforms are waiting to see me.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many times did Retief try to tell Potter he was not Lemuel's cousin?", "question_unique_id": "61146_1K27MAZN_1", "options": ["1", "0", "3", "2"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What misconception did Potter have about the Flap-jacks?", "question_unique_id": "61146_1K27MAZN_2", "options": ["He thought they looked like blankets", "He thought they wanted to take over the oases", "He thought they killed some men", "He thought they were friendly"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Retief want to go away alone from the fire?", "question_unique_id": "61146_1K27MAZN_3", "options": ["He wanted to go home", "He wanted to walk to a tree", "He wanted to get away from the farmers", "He wanted to capture a Flap-jack by surprise"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did the flap-jacks think people wanted?", "question_unique_id": "61146_1K27MAZN_4", "options": ["Skirmishes", "Peace", "To eliminate weapons", "The oases"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Hoshick feel about war?", "question_unique_id": "61146_1K27MAZN_5", "options": ["He saw the humans as vermin", "He saw it as an unfortunate necessity", "He loved going into battle", "He would rather watch than take part"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Retief beat Hoshick?", "question_unique_id": "61146_1K27MAZN_6", "options": ["He used his power pistol to shoot him", "He fell on top of him and crushed him", "He used what he learned from capturing the flap-jack", "He twisted his tentacles and injured him"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Hoshick want?", "question_unique_id": "61146_1K27MAZN_7", "options": ["To take over the oases", "To be a farmer", "To go into battle against the humans", "To have a plebian contest"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Retief evade the missile?", "question_unique_id": "61146_1K27MAZN_8", "options": ["He used emergency retro-drive", "He flew right at it", "He crashed the skiff", "He altered course to the south"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/1/4/61146//61146-h//61146-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63936", "set_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Strange Exodus", "year": 1953, "author": "Abernathy, Robert", "topic": "Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; Parasites -- Fiction; Short stories; Earth (Planet) -- Fiction; PS", "article": "STRANGE EXODUS\nBy ROBERT ABERNATHY\nGigantic, mindless, the Monsters had come out of\n\n interstellar space to devour Earth. They gnawed\n\n at her soil, drank deep of her seas. Where, on\n\n this gutted cosmic carcass, could humanity flee?\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1950.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWestover got a shock when he stumbled onto the monster, for all that he\n knew one had been through here.\n\n\n He had been following the high ground toward the hills, alternately\n splashing through waist-deep water and climbing onto comparatively dry\n knolls. To right and left of him was the sullen noise of the river in\n flood, and behind him, too, the rising water he had barely escaped. The\n night was overcast, the moon a faint disk of glow that left river and\n hills and even the mud underfoot invisible.\n\n\n He had not sought in his mind for the flood's cause, but had merely\n taken it numbly as part of the fury and confusion of a world in ruin.\n Anyway, he was dead tired out on his feet.\n\n\n He sensed more than saw the looming wall before him, but he thought\n it the bare ledge-rock of a stripped hillside until he stepped into a\n small pot-hole and lurched forward, and his outflung hands sank into\n the slime that covered a surface faintly, horrifyingly resilient.\n\n\n He recoiled as if seared, and retreated, slithering in the muck. For\n moments his mind was full of dark formless panic; then he took a firm\n hold on himself and tried to comprehend the situation.\n\n\n Nothing was distinguishable beyond a few yards, but his mind's eye\n could see the rest—the immense slug-like shape that extended in\n ponderous repose across the river valley, its head and tail spilling\n over the hills on either side, five miles apart. The beast was\n quiescent until morning—sleeping, if such things slept.\n\n\n And that explained the flood; the monster's body had formed an\n unbreakable dam behind which the river had been steadily piling up in\n those first hours of night; if it did not move until dawn, the level\n would be far higher then.\n\n\n Westover stood motionless in the blackness; how long, he did not know.\n He was hardly aware of the water that covered his feet, crept over his\n ankles, and swirled halfway to his knees. Only the emergence of the\n moon through a rift of the cloud blanket brought him awake; its dim\n light gleamed all around on a great sheet of water, unbroken save for\n scattered black hummocks—crests of knolls like that on which he stood,\n all soon to be hidden by the rising flood.\n\n\n For a moment he knew despair. The way back was impassable, and the way\n ahead was blocked by the titanic enemy.\n\n\n Then the impersonal will that had driven him implacably two days and\n nights without stopping came to his rescue. Westover plodded forward,\n pressed his shrinking body against the slimy, faintly warm surface of\n the monster's foot, and sought above him with upstretched hands—found\n holds, and began to climb with a strength he had not known was left in\n him.\n\n\n The moonlight's fading again was merciful as he climbed the sheer,\n slippery face of the foot; but he could hear the wash and chuckle of\n the flood below. His tired brain told him treacherously: \"I'm already\n asleep—this is a nightmare.\" Once, listening to that insidious voice,\n he slipped and for instants hung dizzily by his hands, and for some\n minutes after he had found a new foothold merely clung panting with\n pounding heart.\n\n\n Some time after he had found courage to resume the climb, he dragged\n himself, gasping and quivering, to comparative safety on the broad\n shelf that marked the rim of the foot. Above him lay the great black\n steep that rose to the summit of the monster's humped back, a mountain\n to be climbed. Westover felt poignantly that his exhausted body could\n not make that ascent and face the long and dangerous descent beyond,\n which he had to make before dawn ... but not now ... not now....\nHe lay in a state between waking and dreaming, high on the monster's\n side; and it seemed that the colossal body moved, swelling and\n sighing—but he knew they did not breathe as backboned animals do.\n Westover had been one of the men who, in the days when humanity was\n still fighting, had accumulated quite a store of knowledge about the\n enemy—the enemy that was brainless and toolless, but that was simply\n too vast for human intelligence and weapons to defeat....\n\n\n Westover no longer saw the murky moonlight, the far faint glitter of\n the flood or the slope of the living mountain. He saw, as he had seen\n from a circling jet plane, an immense tree of smoke that rose and\n expanded under the noonday sun, creamy white above and black and oily\n below, and beneath the black cloud something that writhed and flowed\n sluggishly in a cyclopean death agony.\n\n\n That picture dissolved, and was replaced by the face of a man—one who\n might now be alive or dead, elsewhere in the chaos of a desolated\n planet. It was an ordinary face, roundish, spectacled, but etched now\n by tragedy; the voice that went with it was flat, unemotional, pedantic.\n\n\n \"There are so many of them, and we've destroyed so few—and to kill\n those few took our mightiest weapons. Examination of the ones that have\n been killed discloses the reason why ordinary projectiles and bombs and\n poisons are ineffective against them—apart, that is, from the chief\n reason of sheer size. The creatures are so loosely organized that a\n local injury hardly affects the whole. In a sense, each one of them is\n a single cell—like the slime molds, the Earthly life forms that most\n resemble them.\n\n\n \"That striking resemblance, together with the fact that they chose\n Earth to attack out of all the planets of the Solar System, shows they\n must have originated on a world much like this. But while on Earth the\n slime molds are the highest reticular organisms, and the dominant life\n is all multicellular, on the monsters' home world conditions must have\n favored unicellular growth. Probably as a result of this unspecialized\n structure, the monsters have attained their great size and perhaps for\n the same reason they have achieved what even intelligent cellular life\n so far hasn't—liberation from existence bound to one world's surface,\n the conquest of space. They accomplished it not by invention but by\n adaptation, as brainless life once crawled out of the sea to conquer\n the dry land.\n\n\n \"The monsters who have descended on Earth must represent the end result\n of a long evolution completed in space itself. They are evidently\n deep-space beings, able to propel themselves from planet to planet and\n from star to star in search of food, guided by instinct to suns and\n worlds like ours. Descending on such a planet, they move across its\n surface systematically ingesting all edible material—all life not\n mobile enough to avoid their march. They are like caterpillars that\n overrun a planet and strip it of its leaves, before moving on to the\n next.\n\n\n \"Man is a highly mobile species, so our direct casualties of this\n invasion have been very light and will continue to be. But when the\n monsters have finished with Earth, there will be no vegetation left\n for man's food, no houses, no cities, none of the fixed installations\n of civilization, and the end will be far more terrible than if we were\n all devoured by the monsters.\"\nWestover awoke, feeling himself bathed by the cold sweat of\n nightmare—then he realized that a misty rain had wetted his face and\n sogged his clothes. That, and the sleep he had had, refreshed him and\n made his mind clearer than it had been for days, and he remembered that\n he could not sleep but had to go on, searching with a hope that would\n not die for some miraculously spared refuge where civilization and\n science might yet exist, where there would be the means to realize his\n idea for stopping the monsters.\n\n\n He sat up, eyes searching the sky for a sign to tell him how long he\n had slept. Low on the western horizon he found the faint glow that told\n of the moon's setting; and in the east a stronger light was already\n struggling through the clouds and mist, becoming every moment less\n tenuous and illusory, more the bitter reality of the breaking day.\n\n\n Even as Westover began frantically climbing, out of that lightening\n sky the hopelessness of his effort pressed down on him. With dawn the\n monster would begin to move, to crawl eastward impelled by the same dim\n phototropic urge which must guide these things out of the interstellar\n depths to Sun-type stars. All of them had crept endlessly eastward\n around the Earth, gutting the continents and churning the sea bottoms,\n and by now whatever was left of human civilization must be starving\n beyond the Arctic circle, or aboard ships at sea. The hordes that\n still lived and wandered over the once populous fertile lands, like\n this—would not live long.\n\n\n For a man like Westover, who had been a scientist, it was not the\n prospect of death that was most crushing, but the death blow to his\n human pride, the star-storming pride of mind and will—defeated by\n sheer bulk and mindless hunger.\n\n\n Near the crest of the monster's back, he stumbled and fell hands and\n knees on the shagreen-roughness of the skin; at first he thought only\n that an attack of dizziness had made him fall, then he realized that\n the surface beneath him had shifted. Unmistakably even in the misty\n dawn-light, the hills and valleys of the rugose back were changing\n shape, as the vast protoplasmic mass below crawled, flowed beneath its\n integument. In slow peristaltic motion the waves marched eastward,\n toward the monster's head.\n\n\n He could stay where he was unharmed, of course. On the monster's back,\n of all places, he had nothing to fear from it or from others of its\n kind. But he knew with desperate clarity that by nightfall, when the\n beast became still once more, exhaustion and growing hunger would have\n made him unable to descend. As he lay where he had fallen, he felt that\n weakness creeping over him, no longer held in check by the will that\n had kept him doggedly plodding forward.\n\n\n Again he lay half conscious, in a lethargy that unchecked must grow\n steadily deeper until death. Isolated thoughts floated through his\n head. It occurred to him that he was now ideally located to conduct\n the experiments necessary to prove his theory of how to destroy the\n monsters—if only someone had had the foresight to build a biological\n laboratory on the monster's back. Of course the rolling motion would\n create special problems of technique.... Idiocy.... Once more he seemed\n to glimpse Sutton's face, as the biologist calmly made that grisly\n report to the President's Committee on Extermination.... Sutton's\n prediction had been a hundred percent correct. The monsters' hunger\n knew no halt until they had absorbed into themselves all the organic\n material on the world which was their prey.... And men must starve, as\n he was starving now....\nWith a struggle Westover roused himself, first sitting up, then swaying\n to his feet, frowning with the effort to look sanely at the terrible\n inspiration that had come to him. The cloud blanket was breaking up,\n the sun already high, beating down on the naked moving plateau on which\n the man stood. The idea born in him seemed to stand that light, even to\n expand into hope.\n\n\n Fingers shaking, he unhitched the light ax from his belt and began to\n hack with feverish industry at the monster's crusted hide.\n\n\n The scaly, weathered epidermis seemed immeasurably thick. But at last\n he had chopped through it, reached the softer protoplasm beneath.\n Clawing and hewing in the hole he had made, he tore out heavy slabs of\n the monster's flesh.\n\n\n A ripple that did not belong to the crawling motion ran over the\n thing's surface round about. Westover laughed wildly with a sudden\n sense of power. He, the insignificant human mite, had made the\n miles-long beast twitch like a flea-bitten dog.\n\n\n The analogy was pat; like a flea, he had lodged on a larger animal and\n was about to nourish himself from it. The slabs of flesh he had cut off\n were gray and unappetizing, but he knew from the studies he had helped\n Sutton make that the monsters, extraterrestrial though they were, were\n in the basic chemistry of proteins, fats and carbohydrates one with man\n or the amoeba, and therefore might be—food.\n\n\n His matches were dry in their water-proof case; he made a smoldering\n fire from the loose fibrous scale of the monster's back, and half an\n hour later was replete. Either the long fast, or involuntary revulsion,\n or perhaps merely the motion of the creature brought on nausea, but he\n fought it sternly back and succeeded in keeping his strange meal down.\n Then he was tormented by thirst. It was some time, though, before he\n could bring himself to drink the colorless fluid that had collected in\n the wound he had inflicted on the monster.\n\n\n Thus began for him a weird existence—the life of a parasite, of a flea\n on a dog. The monster crawled by day and rested by night; strengthened,\n the man could have left it then, but somehow night after night he did\n not. It wasn't, he argued with himself sometimes in the days when he\n lay torpidly drowsing, lulled by the long sway, arms over his head to\n protect him from the sun's baking, merely that he was chained to the\n only source of food he knew in all the world—not just that he was\n developing a flea's psychology. He was a man and a scientist, and he\n was conducting an experiment.... His life on the monster's back was\n proving something, something of vast importance for man, the extinct\n animal—but for increasingly longer periods of time he could not\n remember what it was....\n\n\n There came a morning, though, when he remembered.\nThus began for him a weird existence—the life of a parasite, of a flea on a dog.\nHe woke with the sun's warmth on his body and the realization of\n something amiss trickling through his head. It was a little while\n before he recognized the wrongness, and when he did he sat bolt upright.\n\n\n The sun was already up, and the monster should have begun once more its\n steady, ravenous march to the east. But there was no motion; the great\n living expanse lay still around him. He wondered wildly if it was dead.\n\n\n Presently, though, he felt a faint shuddering and lift beneath his\n feet, and heard far stifled mutterings and sighs.\n\n\n Westover's mind was beginning to function again; it was as though the\n cessation of the rock and sway had exorcised the lethargy that had lain\n upon him. He knew now that he had been almost insane for the time he\n had passed here, touched by the madness that takes hermits and men lost\n in deserts or oceans. And his was a stranger solitude than any of those.\n\n\n Now he listened strainingly to the portentous sounds of change in the\n monster's vitals, and in a flash of insight knew them for what they\n were. The scientists had found, in the burst bodies of the Titans\n that had been killed by atomic bombs, the answer to the riddle of\n these creatures' crossing of space: great vacuoles, pockets of gas\n that in the living animal could be under exceedingly high pressures,\n and that could be expelled to drive the monster in flight like a\n reaction engine. Rocket propulsion, of course, was nothing new to\n zoology; it was developed ages before man, by the squids and by those\n odd degenerate relatives of the vertebrates that are called tunicates\n because of their gaudy cellulose-plastic armor....\n\n\n The monster on which Westover had been living as a parasite was\n generating gases within itself, preparing to leave the ravished Earth.\n That was the meaning of its gargantuan belly rumblings. And they meant\n further that he must finally leave it—now or never—or be borne aloft\n to die gasping in the stratosphere.\n\n\n Hurriedly the man scrambled to the highest eminence of the back and\n stood looking about; and what he saw brought him to the brink of\n despair. For all around lay blue water, waves dancing and glinting in\n the fresh breeze; and sniffing the air he recognized the salt tang\n of the sea. While he slept the monster had crept beyond the coast\n line, and lay now in what to it was shallow water—fifty or a hundred\n fathoms. Back the way it had come, a headland was visible, mockingly,\n hopelessly distant.\n\n\n Of course—the great beast would crawl into the sea, which would float\n its bloated bulk and enable it to accelerate and take flight. It would\n never have been able to lift itself into the air from the dry land.\n\n\n He should have foreseen that and made his escape in time. Now that\n he had solved the problem of human survival.... But the bright ocean\n laughed at him, sparkling away wave beyond rolling wave, and beyond\n that blue headland could be only a land made desert, where men become\n beasts fought crazily over the last morsels of food. He had lost track\n of the days he had been on the monster's back, but the rape of Earth\n must be finished now. He had no doubt that the things would depart\n as they had come into the Solar System—in that close, seemingly\n one-willed swarm that Earth's astronomers had at first taken for a\n comet. If this one was leaving, the rest no doubt were too.\n\n\n Westover sat for a space with head in hands, hearing the faint\n continuing murmurs from below. And he remembered the voices.\nHe had been hearing them again as he awoke—the distant muffled voices\n whose words he could not make out, not the small close ones that\n sometimes in the hot middays had spoken clearly in his ear and even\n called his name. The latter had to be, as he had vaguely accepted them\n even then, illusions—but the others—with his new clarity he was\n suddenly sure that they had been real.\n\n\n And a wild, white light of hope blazed in him, and he flung himself\n flat on the rough surface, beat on it with bare fists and shouted:\n \"Help! Here I am! Help!\"\n\n\n He paused to listen with fierce intentness, and heard nothing but the\n faint eructations deep inside the monster.\n\n\n Then he sprang to his feet, gripping his hand-ax, and ran panting to\n the place where he had dug for food. His excavations tended to close\n and heal overnight; now he went to work with vicious strokes enlarging\n the latest one, hacking and tearing it deeper and deeper.\n\n\n He was almost hidden in the cavity when a shadow fell across him from\n behind. He whirled, for there could be no shadows on the monster's back.\n\n\n A man stood watching him calmly—an elderly man in rusty black\n clothing, leaning on a stick. The staff, the snowy beard, and something\n that smoldered behind the benign eyes, gave him the look of an ancient\n prophet.\n\n\n \"Who are you?\" asked Westover, breathlessly but almost without surprise.\n\n\n \"I am the Preacher,\" the old man said. \"The Lord hath sent me to save\n you. Arise, my son, and follow me.\"\n\n\n Westover hesitated. \"I'm not just imagining you?\" he appealed.\n \"Somebody else has really found the answer?\"\n\n\n The Preacher's brows knitted faintly, but then his look turned to\n benevolent understanding. \"You have been alone too long here. Come with\n me—I will take you to the Doctor.\"\n\n\n Westover was still not sure that the other was more than one of the\n powerful specters of childhood—the Preacher, the Doctor, no doubt the\n Teacher next—risen to rob him of his last shreds of sanity. But he\n nodded in childlike obedience, and followed.\n\n\n When, a few hundred yards nearer the monster's head, the other halted\n at a black rent in the rugose hide, the mouth of a burrow descending\n into utter blackness—Westover knew that both the Preacher and his own\n wild hope were real.\n\n\n \"Down here. Into the belly of Leviathan,\" said the old man solemnly,\n and Westover nodded this time with alacrity.\nThe crawling descent through the twisting, Stygian burrow had much\n that ought to belong to a journey into Hell.... More than that, no\n demonologist's imagination could have conceived without experiencing\n the sheer horror of the yielding beslimed walls that seemed every\n moment squeezing in to trap them unspeakably. The air was warm and\n rank with the familiar heavy sweetish odor of the monster's colorless\n blood....\n\n\n Then, as he knew it must, a light glimmered ahead, the sinus widened,\n and Westover climbed to his feet and stood, weak-kneed still, staring\n at a chamber carved in the veritable belly of Leviathan. The floor\n underfoot was firm, as was the wall his shaking fingers tested.\n Dazzled, he saw tools leaning against the walls, spades, crowbars,\n axes, and a half-dozen people, men and women in rough grimy clothing,\n who stood watching him with lively interest.\n\n\n The Preacher stood beside him, breathing hard and mopping his forehead.\n But he brushed aside the deferential offers of the others: \"No—I will\n take him to the Doctor myself. All of you must hurry now to close the\n shaft.\"\n\n\n There was another tunnel to be crawled through, but that one was\n firm-walled as the room they left behind. They emerged into a larger\n cavern, that like the first was lit—only now did the miracle of it\n obtrude itself in his dazed mind—by fluorescent tubes, and filled with\n equipment that gleamed glass and metal. Over an apparatus with many\n fluid-dripping trays, like an air-conditioning device, bent a lone man.\n\n\n \"Is it working?\" inquired the Preacher.\n\n\n \"It's working,\" the other answered without looking up from the\n adjustment he was making. Bubbles were rising in the fluid that filled\n the trays, rising and bursting, rising and bursting with a curiously\n fascinating monotony. The subtly tense attitudes of the two initiates\n told Westover better than words that there was something hugely\n important in the success of whatever magic was producing those bubbles.\n\n\n The thaumaturge straightened, wiping his hands on his trousers as he\n turned with a satisfied grin on his round, spectacled face—then both\n he and Westover froze in dumbfounded recognition.\nSutton was first to recover. He said quietly, \"Welcome aboard the ark,\n Bill. You're just in time—I think we're about to hoist anchor.\" His\n quick eyes studied Westover's face, and he gestured toward a packing\n box against the wall opposite his apparatus. \"Sit down. You've been\n through the mill.\"\n\n\n \"That's right,\" Westover sat down dizzily. \"I've been aboard your ark\n for some time now, though. Only as an ectoparasite.\"\n\n\n \"It's high time you joined the endoparasites. Lucky you scratched\n around enough up there to create repercussions we could feel down here.\n You got the same idea, then?\"\n\n\n \"I stumbled onto it,\" Westover admitted. \"I was wandering across\n country—my plane crashed on the way back from that South American\n bug hunt dreamed up by somebody who'd been reading Wells'\nWar of the\n Worlds\n. I think my pilot went nuts; you could see too much of the\n destruction from up there.... But I got out in one piece and started\n walking—looking for some place with people and facilities that could\n try out my method of killing the monsters. I thought—I still think—I\n had a sure-fire way to do that—but I didn't realize then that it was\n too late to think of killing them off.\"\n\n\n Sutton nodded thoughtfully. \"It was too late—or too early, perhaps.\n We'll have to talk that over.\"\n\n\n Westover finished the brief account of his coming to dwell on the\n monster's back. The other grinned happily.\n\n\n \"You began with the practice, where I worked out the theory first.\"\n\n\n \"I haven't got so far with the theory,\" said Westover, \"but I think\n I've got the main outlines. Until the monsters came, man was a parasite\n on the face of the Earth. Fundamentally, parasitism—on the green\n plants and their by-products—was our way of life, as of all animals\n from the beginning. But the monsters absorbed into themselves all the\n plant food and even the organic material in the soil. So we have only\n one way out—to transfer our parasitism to the only remaining food\n source—the monsters themselves.\n\n\n \"The monsters almost defeated us, because of their two special\n adaptations of extreme size and ability to cross space. But man has\n always won the battle of adaptations before, because he could improvise\n new ones as the need arose. The greatest crisis humanity ever faced\n called for the most radical innovation in our way of life.\"\n\n\n \"Very well put,\" approved Sutton. \"Except that you make it sound easy.\n By the time I'd worked it out like that, things were already in\n such a turmoil that putting it into effect was the devil's own job.\n About the only ones I could find to help me were the Preacher and his\n people. They have the faith that moves mountains, that has made this\n self-moving mountain inhabitable.\"\n\n\n \"It is inhabitable?\" Westover's question reflected no doubt.\nSutton gestured at the bubbling device behind him. \"That thing is\n making air now, which we're going to need when the monster's in space.\n It was when we were still trying to find a poison for the beasts that I\n hit on the catalyst that makes their blood give up its oxygen—that's\n its blood flowing through the filters. We've got an electric generator\n running by tapping the monster's internal gas pressure. There are\n problems left before we'll be fully self-sufficient here—but the\n monster is so much like us in fundamental makeup that its body contains\n all the elements human life needs too.\"\n\n\n \"Then,\" Westover glanced appreciatively around, \"it looks like the main\n hazard is claustrophobia.\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry about a cave-in. We're surrounded by solid cystoid\n tissue. But,\" Sutton's voice took on a graver note, \"there may be\n other psychological dangers. I don't think all our people—there are\n fifty-one, fifty-two of us now—realize yet that this colony isn't just\n a temporary expedient. Human history hasn't had such a turning-point\n since men first started chipping stone. Spengler's\nMensch als\n Raubtier\n—if he ever existed—has to be replaced by the\nMensch als\n Schmarotzer\n, and the adjustment may come hard. We've got to plan\n for the rest of our lives—and our children's and our children's\n children's—as parasites inside this monster and whatever others we can\n manage to—infect—when they're clustered again in space.\"\n\n\n \"For the future,\" put in the Preacher, who had watched benignly the\n biologists' reunion, \"the Lord will provide, even as He did unto Jonah\n when he cried to Him out of the belly of the fish.\"\n\n\n \"Amen,\" agreed Sutton. But the gaze he fixed on Westover was oddly\n troubled. \"Speaking of the future brings up the question of the idea\n you mentioned—your monster-killing scheme.\"\nWestover flexed his hands involuntarily, like one who has been too\n long enforcedly idle. In terse eager sentences he outlined for Sutton\n the plan that had burned in him during his bitter wandering over\n the face of the ruined land. It would be very easy to accomplish\n from an endoparasite's point of vantage, merely by isolating from\n the creature's blood over a long period enough of some potent\n secretion—hormone, enzyme or the like—to kill when suddenly\n reintroduced into the system. \"Originally I thought we could accomplish\n the same thing by synthesis—but this way will be simpler.\"\n\n\n \"Beautifully simple.\" Sutton smiled wryly. \"So much so that I wish\n you'd never thought of it.\"\n\n\n Westover stared. \"Why?\"\n\n\n \"Describing your plan, you sounded almost ready to put it into effect\n on the spot.\"\n\n\n \"No! Of course I realize—Well, I see what you mean—I think.\" Westover\n was crestfallen.\n\n\n Sutton smiled faintly.\n\n\n \"I think you do, Bill. To survive, we've got to be\ngood\nparasites.\n That means before all, for the coming generations, that we keep our\n numbers down. A good parasite doesn't destroy or even overtax its host.\n We don't want to follow the sorry example of such unsuccessful species\n as the bugs of bubonic plague or typhoid; we'll do better to model\n ourselves on the humble tapeworm.\n\n\n \"Your idea is dangerous for the same reason. The monsters probably\n spend thousands of years in interstellar space; during that time\n they'll be living exclusively on their fat—the fuel they stored on\n Earth, and so will we. We've got a whole new history of man ahead\n of us, under such changed conditions that we can't begin to predict\n what turns it may take. There's a very great danger that men will\n proliferate until they kill their hosts. But imagine a struggle for\nLebensraum\nwhen all the living space there is is a few thousand\n monsters capable of supporting a very limited number of people\n each—with your method giving an easy way to destroy these little\n worlds our descendants will inhabit. It's too much dynamite to have\n around the house.\"\n\n\n Westover bowed his head, but he had caught a curiously expectant glint\n in Sutton's eyes as he spoke. He thought, and his face lightened.\n \"Suppose we work out a way to record my idea, one that can't be\n deciphered by anyone unintelligent enough to be likely to misuse it. A\n riddle for our descendants—who should have use for it some day.\"\n\n\n At last Sutton smiled. \"That's better. You've thought it through to\n the end, I see.... This phase of our history won't last forever.\n Eventually, the monsters will come to another planet not too unlike\n Earth, because it's on such worlds they prey. A tapeworm can cross the\n Sahara desert in the intestine of a camel—\"\n\n\n His voice was drowned in a vast hissing roar. An irresistible pressure\n distorted the walls of the chamber and scythed its occupants from their\n feet. Sutton staggered drunkenly almost erect, fought his way across\n the tilting floor to make sure of his precious apparatus. He turned\n back toward the others, bracing himself and shouting something; then,\n knowing his words lost in the thunder, gestured toward the Earth they\n were leaving, a half-regretful, half-triumphant farewell.\n", "questions": [{"question": "When Westover was on the monster the first night remembering the speech, where was the man who gave the speech?", "question_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034_1", "options": ["Close by", "Far away in space", "Far away on Earth", "Dead"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why should Westover not kill the monster?", "question_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034_2", "options": ["He needs it to destroy the earth", "He needs it to travel to find other people", "He needs it to save the human race", "He needs it to find other monsters"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where was the safest place to be on Earth?", "question_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034_3", "options": ["On a mountain", "On top of a monster", "Where the monsters had already been", "Where the monsters were headed"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What about the situation made Westover feel the most upset?", "question_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034_4", "options": ["The thought of losing the people he cared about", "The thought of dying", "The thought of humanity falling at the hands of mindless creatures", "The thought of starving to death"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Westover described as shrinking?", "question_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034_5", "options": ["He was starving because the monsters ate all the food", "He was afraid of encountering the monster", "He was a cowardly person", "He was tired from walking a long way"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was not a reason that Westover felt sick to his stomach?", "question_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034_6", "options": ["He had been fasting a long time", "He felt revulsion at eating the monster", "He had motion sickness from riding the monster", "The monster's flesh had a bad taste"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the monster stop crawling by day?", "question_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034_7", "options": ["It was no longer hungry", "It was ready to leave Earth", "The sun was up", "It was dead"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What saved Westover when the monster was getting ready to take off?", "question_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034_8", "options": ["A plane", "His own scientific ideas", "A man", "A ship"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Westover find inside the monster?", "question_unique_id": "63936_L8TF3034_9", "options": ["His friend", "Pockets of gas", "Demolished earth", "His death"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/9/3/63936//63936-h//63936-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20007", "set_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "The logistics of presidential adultery.", "year": "1996", "author": "David Plotz", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "The logistics of presidential adultery. \n\n           \n\n         The Washington Times could hardly contain its excitement: \"A former FBI agent assigned to the White House describes in a new book how President Clinton slips past his Secret Service detail in the dead of night, hides under a blanket in the back of a dark-colored sedan, and trysts with a woman, possibly a celebrity, at the JW Marriott Hotel in downtown Washington.\" For Clinton-haters, Gary Aldrich's tale sounded too good to be true. \n\n         And it was. The not-so-Secret-Service agent's \"source\" turned out to be a thirdhand rumor passed on by Clinton scandalmonger David Brock. Those who know about White House security--Clinton staffers, the Secret Service, former aides to Presidents Reagan and Bush--demolished Aldrich's claims. Clinton couldn't give his Secret Service agents the slip (they shadow him when he walks around the White House), couldn't arrange a private visit without tipping off hotel staff, and couldn't re-enter the White House without getting nabbed. (Guards check all cars at the gate--especially those that arrive at 4 a.m.) \n\n         Even so, the image resonates. For some Americans, it is an article of faith: Bill Clinton cheated on his wife when he was governor, and he cheats on her as president. But can he? Is it possible for the president of the United States to commit adultery and get away with it? Maybe, but it's tougher than you think. \n\n         Historically, presidential adultery is common. Warren Harding cavorted with Nan Britton and Carrie Phillips. Franklin Roosevelt \"entertained\" Lucy Rutherford at the White House when Eleanor was away. America was none the wiser, even if White House reporters were. \n\n         Those who know Clinton is cheating often point to the model of John F. Kennedy, who turned presidential hanky-panky into a science. Kennedy invited mistresses to the White House for afternoon (and evening, and overnight) liaisons. Kennedy seduced women on the White House staff (including, it seems, Jackie's own press secretary). Kennedy made assignations outside the White House, then escaped his Secret Service detail by scaling walls and ducking out back doors. If Kennedy did it, so can Clinton. \n\n          Well, no. Though Clinton slavishly emulates JFK in every other way, he'd be a fool to steal Kennedy's MO d'amour . Here's why: \n\n                         1) Too many people would know. Kennedy hardly bothered to hide his conquests. According to Kennedy mistress (and mob moll) Judith Campbell's autobiography, those who knew about their affair included: Kennedy's personal aides and secretary (who pandered for him), White House drivers, White House gate guards, White House Secret Service agents, White House domestic staff, most of Campbell's friends, a lot of Kennedy's friends, and several Kennedy family members. Such broad circulation would be disastrous today because: \n\n                         2) The press would report it. Kennedy conducted his affairs brazenly because he trusted reporters not to write about them. White House journalists knew about, or at least strongly suspected, Kennedy's infidelity, but never published a story about it. Ask Gary Hart if reporters would exercise the same restraint today. Clinton must worry about this more than most presidents. Not only are newspapers and magazines willing to publish an adultery story about him, but many are pursuing it. \n\n         For the same reason, Clinton would find it difficult to hire a mistress. A lovely young secretary would set off alarm bells in any reporter investigating presidential misbehavior. Says a former Clinton aide, \"There has been a real tendency to have no good-looking women on the staff in order to protect him.\" \n\n                         3) Clinton cannot avoid Secret Service protection. During the Kennedy era, the Secret Service employed fewer than 500 people and had an annual budget of about $4 million. Then came Lee Harvey Oswald, Squeaky Fromme, and John Hinckley. Now the Secret Service payroll tops 4,500 (most of them agents), and the annual budget exceeds $500 million (up 300 percent just since 1980). At any given time, more than 100 agents guard the president in the White House. Top aides from recent administrations are adamant: The Secret Service never lets the president escape its protection. \n\n         So what's a randy president to do? Any modern presidential affair would need to meet stringent demands. Only a tiny number of trusted aides and Secret Service agents could know of it. They would need to maintain complete silence about it. And no reporters could catch wind of it. Such an affair is improbable, but--take heart, Clinton-haters--it's not impossible. Based on scuttlebutt and speculation from insiders at the Clinton, Bush, Reagan, and Ford White Houses, here are the four likeliest scenarios for presidential adultery. \n\n                         1) The White House Sneak. This is a discreet variation of the old Kennedy/Campbell liaison. It's late at night. The president's personal aides have gone home. The family is away. He is alone in the private quarters. The private quarters, a k a \"the residence,\" occupy the second and third floors of the White House. Secret Service agents guard the residence's entrances on the first floor and ground floors, but the first family has privacy in the quarters themselves. Maids and butlers serve the family there, but the president and first lady ask them to leave when they want to be alone. \n\n         The president dials a \"friend\" on his private line. (Most presidents placed all their calls through the White House operators, who kept a record of each one; the Clintons installed a direct-dial line in the private quarters.) The president invites the friend over for a cozy evening at the White House. After he hangs up with the friend, he phones the guard at the East Executive Avenue gate and tells him to admit a visitor. He also notifies the Secret Service agent and the usher on duty downstairs that they should send her up to the residence. \n\n         A taxi drops the woman near the East gate. She identifies herself to the guard, who examines her ID, runs her name through a computer (to check for outstanding warrants), and logs her in a database. A White House usher escorts her into the East Wing of the White House. They walk through the East Wing and pass the Secret Service guard post by the White House movie theater. The agent on duty waves them on. The usher takes her to the private elevator, where another Secret Service agent is posted. She takes the elevator to the second floor. The president opens the door and welcomes her. Under no circumstances could she enter the living quarters without first encountering Secret Service agents. \n\n          Let us pause for a moment to demolish two of the splashier rumors about White House fornication. First, the residence is the only place in the White House where the president can have safe (i.e. uninterrupted) sex. He can be intruded upon or observed everywhere else--except, perhaps, the Oval Office bathroom. Unless the president is an exhibitionist or a lunatic, liaisons in the Oval Office, bowling alley, or East Wing are unimaginable. Second, the much-touted tunnel between the White House and the Treasury Department is all-but-useless to the presidential adulterer. It is too well-guarded. The president could smuggle a mistress through it, but it would attract far more attention from White House staff than a straightforward gate entry would. \n\n          Meanwhile, back in the private quarters, the president and friend get comfortable in one of the 14 bedrooms (or, perhaps, the billiard room). After a pleasant 15 minutes (or two hours?), she says goodbye. Depending on how long she stays, she may pass a different shift of Secret Service agents as she departs. She exits the White House grounds, unescorted and unbothered, at the East gate. The Risks : A gate guard, an usher, and a handful of Secret Service agents see her. All of them have a very good idea of why she was there. The White House maid who changes the sheets sees other suspicious evidence. And the woman's--real--name is entered in a Secret Service computer. None of this endangers the president too much. The computer record of her visit is private, at least for several decades after he leaves office. No personal aides know about the visit. Unless they were staking out the East gate, no journalists do either. The Secret Service agents, the guard, the steward, and the maid owe their jobs to their discretion. Leaks get them fired. \n\n         That said, the current president has every reason not to trust his Secret Service detail. No one seriously compares Secret Service agents (who are pros) to Arkansas state troopers (who aren't). But Clinton might not trust any security guards after the beating he took from his Arkansas posse. Also, if other Secret Service agents are anything like Aldrich, they may dislike this president. One Secret Service leak--the lamp-throwing story--already damaged Clinton. Agents could tattle again. \n\n                         2) The \"Off-the-Record\" Visit. Late at night, after his personal aides and the press have gone home, the president tells his Secret Service detail that he needs to take an \"off-the-record\" trip. He wants to leave the White House without his motorcade and without informing the press. He requests two agents and an unobtrusive sedan. The Secret Service shift leader grumbles, but accepts the conditions. Theoretically, the president could refuse all Secret Service protection, but it would be far more trouble than it's worth. He would have to inform the head of the Secret Service and the secretary of the Treasury. The president and the two agents drive the unmarked car to a woman friend's house. Ideally, she has a covered garage. (An apartment building or a hotel would raise considerably the risk of getting caught.) The agents guard the outside of the house while the president and his friend do their thing. Then the agents chauffeur the president back to the White House, re-entering through the Southwest or Southeast gate, away from the press station. The Risks : Only two Secret Service agents and their immediate supervisor know about the visit. It is recorded in the Secret Service log, which is not made public during the administration's tenure. Gate guards may suspect something fishy when they see the car. A reporter or passer-by could spy the president--even through tinted windows--as the car enters and exits the White House. The friend's neighbors might spot him, or they might notice the agents lurking outside her house. A neighbor might call the police to report the suspicious visitors. All in all, a risky, though not unthinkable, venture. \n\n                         3. The Camp David Assignation. A bucolic, safer version of the White House Sneak. The president invites a group of friends and staffers--including his paramour but not his wife--to spend the weekend at Camp David. The girlfriend is assigned the cabin next to the president's lodge. Late at night, after the Hearts game has ended and everyone has retired to their cabins, she strolls next door. There is a Secret Service command post outside the cabin. The agents on duty (probably three of them) let her enter. A few hours later, she slips back to her own cabin. The Risks : Only a few Secret Service agents know about the liaison. Even though the guest list is not public, all the Navy and Marine personnel at Camp David, as well as the other guests, would know that the presidential entourage included an attractive woman, but not the first lady. That would raise eyebrows if it got back to the White House press room. \n\n                         4. The Hotel Shuffle. The cleverest strategy, and the only one that cuts out the Secret Service. The president is traveling without his family. The Secret Service secures an entire hotel floor, reserving elevators and guarding the entrance to the president's suite. The president's personal aide (a man in his late 20s) takes the room adjoining the president's. An internal door connects the two rooms, so the aide can enter the president's room without alerting the agents in the hall. This is standard practice. \n\n         Late in the evening, the aide escorts a comely young woman back to the hotel. The Secret Service checks her, then waves her into the aide's room. She emerges three hours later, slightly disheveled. She kisses the aide in the hall as she leaves. Someone got lucky--but who? The Risks : The posted Secret Service agents might see through the charade. More awkwardly, the aide would be forced to play the seamy role of procurer. (He would probably do it. Kennedy's assistants performed this task dutifully.) \n\n         In short, presidential adultery is just barely possible in 1996. But it would be extremely inconvenient, extremely risky, and potentially disastrous. It seems, in fact, a lot more trouble than it's worth. A president these days might be wiser to imitate Jimmy Carter, not Jack Kennedy, and only lust in his heart.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did people say the story about Clinton hiding under a blanket to meet a woman was untrue?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_1", "options": ["They know Clinton cheats on his wife", "They were Clinton-haters", "He could not have gotten back home without being found out", "It was published by the Washington Times"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What made it easier for previous presidents to get away with adultery?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_2", "options": ["Their staff did not know", "They always tried to hide it well", "The secret service budget was small", "The reporters never found out"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the press not report on JFK's adultery?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_3", "options": ["They suspected it but did not want to print this kind of story", "They knew about it but felt threatened", "They suspected it but did not know for sure", "They never suspected it"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where in the White House is it feasible for the president to meet a woman?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_4", "options": ["Only the East Wing", "Only the private quarters", "Only the oval office, bowling alley, or East Wing", "Only the private quarters or the office restroom"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the best way for a president to sneak a woman into the White House?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_5", "options": ["Through the service elevator", "Through the oval office", "Through the tunnel", "Through the gate"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why would the president choose to let agents go with him to meet a woman?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_6", "options": ["They will not record the visit in their logs", "There is no way he can avoid it", "The agents will drive the car for him", "He would have to notify a cabinet member to get out of it"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the risk involved in the president sneaking out to a woman's house?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_7", "options": ["The agents may refuse to go with him", "He has to inform the head of the secret service", "The agents will record the visit and make it public", "People living near the woman might notice the agents"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the 4 scenarios involves the fewest people knowing?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_8", "options": ["White House ", "Visiting the woman", "Camp David", "Hotel"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which president's staffers did not help explain how adultery could be possible?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_9", "options": ["Clinton", "Carter", "Bush", "Ford"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which president had staffers find and bring in women for him?", "question_unique_id": "20007_RZDMZJYW_10", "options": ["Kennedy and Clinton", "Kennedy", "Clinton", "Harding"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20008", "set_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "The Olympic Gene Pool", "year": "1996", "author": "Andrew Berry", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "The Olympic Gene Pool \n\n         Why the human race keeps getting faster. \n\n                         By Andrew Berry              \n\n         ( 2,168 words; posted Thursday, July 4; to be composted Thursday, July 11 ) \n\n         On May 6, 1954, at Oxford University's Iffley Road track, Roger Bannister became, by just half a second, the first man to run a mile in less than four minutes. The Holy Grail of middle-distance running was his. Forty-two years later, however, that achievement seems less significant. Four-minute miles are commonplace; the current record, held by Algerian Noureddine Morceli, is 3:44 , more than 5 percent faster than Bannister's speed. What Iffley Road witnessed was just another step along the road to an ever quicker mile, part of the inexorable improvement of athletic performance that we usually take for granted, particularly when the Olympics roll around. If you stop to think about it, though, such constant progress is remarkable. After all, as biomechanical machines with a standard set of parts, humans should be subject to the same limitations we see in, say, automobiles. How come they aren't? \n\n         A lot of entrepreneurs and technophiles would like us to think that the answer has to do with discoveries in the world of sports technology. A new Nike shoe is trumpeted as something that will shave at least one-thousandth of a second off your 100-meter time. Trainers measure the rate of buildup of lactic acid in your muscles, then claim that their programs will control it. Nutritionists fine-tune athletes' diets. Even the old sexual-abstinence-before-the-race dogma is being re-evaluated under the all-seeing eye of science. But I consider all this little more than tinkering. Sports records would continue to tumble even if training methods or athletic clothing or sexual practices were exactly the same today as they were in 1896, when the first modern Olympics took place. These minor miracles are the product neither of technology nor of training but of demographic patterns that affect us all. \n\n         Over the past century, the human race has been affected by a slew of what demographers call \"secular\" trends. (In this context, \"secular\" does not refer to a trend's lack of spirituality but to its longevity: Secular trends are long-term modifications, not just brief fluctuations.) One such trend is an increase in average size. You have to stoop to get through the doorways of a Tudor cottage in England because its inhabitants were smaller than you are, not because they had a penchant for crouching. Another trend is in life expectancy. People are living longer. Life expectancy in Africa increased over the past 20 years from 46 to 53 years. Over the same period in Europe, where things were already pretty comfortable to begin with, life expectancy increased from 71 to 75 years. The global average was an increase from 58 to 65 years. \n\n          Probably the most striking change, though, is how much more quickly children are maturing. A 12-year-old child in 1990 who was in what the World Health Organization calls \"average economic circumstances\" was about 9 inches taller than his or her 1900 counterpart. This is not solely the product of the first trend--the increase in average size--but also due to the fact that children develop faster. Girls menstruate earlier than they used to. The age of menarche (the onset of menstruation) has decreased by three or four months per decade in average sections of Western European populations for the past 150 years. There is a good chance that our 1990 12-year-old already had started to menstruate. Her 1900 counterpart would still have had three years to wait. \n\n         What do such trends have to do with athletic performance? Well, if we're living longer and growing up faster, that must mean we're producing bigger, better bodies. Better bodies imply faster miles. We run faster and faster for the same reason it is now common for 11-year-old girls to menstruate. But why are these things happening? \n\n          Demographers have offered a variety of explanations, but the main one is that our diet is improving. A 12-year-old ate better in 1990 than she would have in the Victorian era. This conclusion is supported by studies of the social elite: Because its members were well-nourished even in the early years of this century, this group has experienced relatively little change, over the past 100 years, in the age girls first menstruate. Another explanation is that health care is getting better. In 1991, according to the WHO, more than 75 percent of all 1-year-olds worldwide were immunized against a range of common diseases. Smallpox, that scourge of previous generations, now is effectively extinct. Probably the best measure of how much healthier we are is the rate of infant mortality, which measures both the health of the mother (a sickly mother is more likely to produce a sickly baby) and the health of the baby. In the past 20 years, infant mortality around the world has dropped from 92 deaths per 1000 live births to just 62. A lot of this can be chalked up to primary-heath-care programs in the developing world--the African average, for instance, has dropped from 135 deaths per 1000 births to 95. But there are also significant improvements in the developed world, with infant deaths dropping in Europe over the same 20-year period from 24 per 1000 live births to just 10. \n\n         Better health care affects athletic ability directly. This is true in the trivial case in which, say, antibiotics cure a runner's fever before the big race, but it may also be true in a more significant way. Diseases contracted in early infancy can have a lifetime impact on health--not necessarily a big one, but an impact nevertheless. Previous generations bore scars from all sorts of non-life-threatening diseases, the stuff everyone picked up as a baby. Nowadays, though, more and more people grow up with no history of disease. Since top athletes inevitably are drawn from the healthiest sector of the population, a generally superior system of health care means a bigger pool of people to draw from. You are much more likely to find someone who can run a mile in 3:30 in a sample of several million superbly healthy people than you are in a sample of 10,000. \n\n         The pool of potential athletes has expanded in other ways, too. First, the population has exploded. Second, we are coming ever closer to a worldwide middle class, the class from which athletes typically are drawn. Whether, in an age of multinational capitalism, we may talk reasonably about a post-colonial era is way beyond the scope of this article. The fact remains, however, that the developing world is doing just that--developing. Even Mozambique, which ranks at, or near, the bottom of national per capita gross national product tables, has shown an increase of some 20 percent in adult literacy rates over the past 20 years. Literacy rates are merely an index of education, which itself is another way of talking about a global move away from a hand-to-mouth lifestyle. \n\n         The decline of empire has its Olympic corollaries. Britain won, on average, 17 gold medals per Olympics in the five official games held in its imperial heyday before World War I. That average has dropped to only five medals per Olympics in the 17 held since. This is not a reflection of declining athletic standards in Britain, however; it's a function of how much more competitive other nations have become. The Olympics originally were the preserve of the socioeconomic elite of the socioeconomic elite among nations. Consider this: Only 13 nations participated in 1896, but there were 172 in 1992. Black Africans didn't take part until the third modern games, held in St. Louis in 1908. Even this was accidental: Lentauw and Yamasami, Zulu tribesmen, entered the marathon because they happened to be in St. Louis as part of an exhibit about the Boer war. Lentauw finished ninth despite being chased into a cornfield by dogs. \n\n         Since all these are changes in how we live, not anything innate, we have to conclude that what we are describing here are effects of environment, not genes. Let us assume that our 1900 and 1990 12-year-olds are identical twins magically born 90 years apart. The 1990 girl still will grow up faster, end up bigger, menstruate earlier, and live longer than the 1900 girl. Perhaps way, way back in human history, when our forebears were still fleeing saber-toothed tigers, natural selection for athletic prowess came into play. But all that ended long ago. Indeed, the laws of natural selection probably work against athletes these days: Given the rigors of training schedules, it is possible that today's top athletes have fewer children than average. \n\n          Just because nurture has a more significant effect on athletic performance doesn't mean that nature lies dormant, though. Genetic variation exists for just about any trait you choose to study, and the ability to run quickly would be no exception. To take a trivial case, we know that the inheritance of extra fingers or toes is determined genetically. It is quite possible that the possession of an extra toe would hinder an aspiring miler--their genes have affected their athletic performance. One genetic factor that may be influencing performance trends is what is known as \"hybrid vigor.\" Cattle breeders have known about this for a long time: Take two inbred lines of cattle, cross them, and what you have is \"better\" (say, larger) than any single individual in either of the two parental lines. This does not require natural selection; it is the accidental byproduct of combining two previously isolated stocks. There are a number of theories to account for this at the genetic level, but it has proved difficult to discriminate among them. It is possible that modern humans exhibit some form of hybrid vigor simply because migration and admixture of populations are now occurring at unprecedented rates. Perhaps, just perhaps, such hybridization is being translated into enhanced performance. \n\n         That doesn't mean, however, that genetic differences in athletic ability can be correlated automatically with race. That is a claim that is impossible to test, because you cannot control, in an experimental sense, environmental differences among the study groups. Sure, you will find more Africans or descendants of Africans standing on the podiums at the end of Olympic track events. And you will find far fewer Asians on those same podiums. But can you, therefore, conclude that Africans have better genes for running than Asians do? No. Environmental differences between the two groups could account for differing levels of athletic success. It is scarcely surprising that Ethiopian or Kenyan distance runners do better than everyone else, since they are in the habit of running immense distances to and from primary school, middle school, and high school. The training is what's crucial, not the blackness. The Chinese sports establishment also has carried out an enormous, and effective, experiment to help dispel the myth that race has a direct relation to athletic ability. Until recently, a quick glance at the medals table confirmed every stereotype people held about Asians and sports. Then the Chinese decided to produce record-breaking female distance runners (and swimmers), and, boy, did they ever. In 1992, China ranked fourth in the Olympic-medal haul. \n\n         You can bring a single generation up to speed through training, but the trends we're dealing with transcend individual generations. Which brings us to another question: Will there come a time when the human machine will hit some sort of natural limit and an Olympic Games pass without a single record tumbling? In principle, yes. \n\n         There are some barriers that simply cannot be broken. We will never run a mile at the same speed at which we now run 100 meters, for instance. The laws of oxygen exchange will not permit it. Race horses seem already to have hit that outer limit. For years, they were as good as human athletes at pushing back speed records, but then they simply stopped getting faster. Take the prestigious British Derby. From 1850 to 1930, winning times dropped from 2:55 to 2:39. But from 1986 to 1996, the average time has been--2:39. Unlike people, race horses are specifically bred and reared to run. Generations of careful genetic selection have ensured that today's race horse has every possible speed-enhancing characteristic. Training techniques, too, are tremendously sophisticated. But you can go only so far. You can only breed horses with ultralight thin bones to a certain point; the bones will break under stress if they get any lighter. \n\n         Human improvement, like race-horse improvement, must eventually bow to the basic constraints of biomechanics. The age of menarche cannot keep on falling forever. On the other hand, it is clear from the remarkable demographic changes of just the past 20 years that these long-term trends are with us still. They may be slowing down in some more developed societies, but they roar along in others. And these trends will continue to fuel the improvement in athletic performance. Several new records will be set in Atlanta. And in Sydney in 2000, and wherever the Olympics are held in 2044. We will continue running faster and jumping further for a good long while to come.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does the author say about correlating athletic ability with race?", "question_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2_1", "options": ["There is a correlation because more Africans win track events", "It is possible to test for a correlation even though one has not yet been proven", "There is a correlation because Asians are not as good at sports", "The ability is most likely due to environment and training rather than race"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When does the author think we will have an Olympics in which no new records are set?", "question_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2_2", "options": ["Never", "At some point in the far future", "Within 20 years", "Within 40 years"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is not listed as a trend in human development?", "question_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2_3", "options": ["People go through puberty at an earlier age", "People eat healthier", "People live longer", "People are taller"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is one of the main reasons the top athletes are so superior now?", "question_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2_4", "options": ["It's genetic", "There are more healthy people to choose from", "There is a racial correlation", "People have easier lives now"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does improved medical care impact athletic ability?", "question_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2_5", "options": ["Only directly", "Only indirectly", "It's impossible to determine", "Directly and indirectly"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which factor is not listed as being related to the large pool of good athletes?", "question_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2_6", "options": ["The large population of the earth", "The post-colonial era", "The population as a whole is more literate", "The expanding middle class worldwide"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why do the British win fewer medals than they used to?", "question_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2_7", "options": ["Due to the effects of World War I", "Due to the post-colonial era", "Due to other countries being better able to compete now", "Due to less focus on athletics in their country"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The author believes that athletic ability changes over time mainly due to:", "question_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2_8", "options": ["Top athletes having fewer children", "Innate factors", "Environment", "Natural selection and genetics"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "The author believes that innovations in athletic training have the most impact on:", "question_unique_id": "20008_5QQ88LP2_9", "options": ["Multiple generations of humans over time", "One generation of humans", "An athlete from a developed nation", "A single individual"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20006", "set_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "The Flytrap Blame Game", "year": "1998", "author": "David Plotz", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "The Flytrap Blame Game \n\n         One of the few truths universally acknowledged about Flytrap is that presidential secretary Betty Currie deserves our sympathy: an honest, loyal civil servant dragooned into a scandal she had nothing to do with. \n\n         But does Currie deserve such sanctification? After all, she knew Clinton's history when she took her job then enabled Clinton's sleaziness anyway. She stood by while Clinton cuckolded his wife and perhaps even helped him commit obstruction of justice. And did she protest? Not as far as we have heard. Did she quit on principle? No. Currie may not be Flytrap's chief malefactor, but nor is she the saintly innocent that the American public believes her to be. \n\n         The Currie case suggests that Flytrap needs a moral recalibration. \n\n         Monica Lewinsky, for example, has fantastically low approval ratings, much lower than Clinton's. One poll I saw pegged her favorability rating at 5 percent (even Newt Gingrich manages at least 25 percent). Now, Monica certainly isn't the heroine of Flytrap. She did seduce a married man, damage the presidency for the sake of casual sex, lie frequently and insouciantly, and blab her \"secret\" affair to anyone who'd listen. But she was also sexually exploited by her older, sleazy boss; had her reputation smeared by Clinton's lackeys; and was betrayed by her \"friend\" Linda Tripp. She hardly deserves such universal contempt. \n\n         Others besides Currie have benefited from the public's excessive generosity. George Stephanopoulos has become a white knight of Flytrap, the former Clinton aide who had the courage to turn on his boss. And bravo to George for chastising Clinton! But it smacks of hypocrisy for Stephanopoulos to \"discover\" in 1998 that Clinton is a lying, womanizing dog. He has, after all known this since 1992. Back then Stephanopoulos himself helped quell bimbo eruptions and parroted Clinton's lying denials. He has never shouldered blame for those deceptions. (Mickey Kaus first noted Stephanopoulos' unbearable sanctimony in this \"Chatterbox\" item in January.) And while loyalty isn't a universal good, it was opportunistic for Stephanopoulos to betray Clinton just at the moment Clinton's stock was about to plunge. \n\n          (Sometimes, of course, the public's rating is dead on target. Linda Tripp's allies--a group that includes her lawyers, Kenneth Starr, the Goldberg family, and absolutely no one else as far as I can tell--have tried repeatedly to improve her sorry public image. Jonah Goldberg tried right here in Slate. No sale.) \n\n          Below is                    Slate                's entire scorecard, which ranks 31 of Flytrap's key players: The scale runs from -10 to +10. Anything less than zero means the player is a net miscreant. Anything above zero rates a sympathy card. (This is not, of course, an exact science. How, for example, do we judge Ann Lewis compared to other last ditch Clinton defenders? Lewis is said to be more outraged by Clinton's misbehavior than The Guys in the White House. Yet Lewis didn't quit in disgust. Is her outrage a plus or a minus if she doesn't act on it? You decide.) \n\n         The Scorecard \n\n                         Bill Clinton (The public's rating: -6 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         To recapitulate \n\n         a) Had an adulterous affair with a young intern. \n\n         b) Lied about it to everyone . \n\n         c) Probably perjured himself. \n\n         d) Perhaps obstructed justice. \n\n         e) Entangled allies and aides in his web of deceit. \n\n         f) Humiliated his wife and daughter. \n\n         g) Did not have the grace to apologize to Lewinsky. \n\n         h)Tried to shift the blame for his failures onto his accusers. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Had his private life exposed to the world in a way no one's should be. \n\n         b) Has been persecuted by enemies who won't be satisfied until he is destroyed. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating-- He never asked for our sympathy, and he doesn't deserve it: -9              \n\n                         Dick Morris (The public's rating: -6 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Encouraged Clinton's most deplorable habits: lying and polling. (When Clinton revealed his adultery to Morris, the political consultant immediately took a poll to see how America would respond to a Clinton admission. When the results suggested Americans would be angry if Clinton had perjured himself, Morris encouraged Clinton to deny the affair.) \n\n         b) Further sullied the Clintons with a revolting comment suggesting that Clinton cheats because Hillary is a lesbian. \n\n         c) Not even loyal enough to keep his mouth shut. \n\n         Pluses: I cannot think of any. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: -7              \n\n                         Linda Tripp (The public's rating: -7 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Betrayed her \"friend.\" \n\n         b) Obsessively nosed into the private lives of others. \n\n         c) Tried to score a book deal off sex gossip and other people's distress. \n\n         d) Tattletale. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Whistleblower (see d under Minuses): risked humiliation to expose something she believed was wrong. \n\n         b) Smeared mercilessly by Clinton allies, the media. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -7              \n\n                         James Carville (The public's rating: -1 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Has known about Clinton's woman problem since 1992. \n\n         b) Happily parroted Clinton's denial despite knowing that Clinton was a deceitful womanizer. \n\n         c) Has not expressed the slightest chagrin or disappointment since Clinton's apology. \n\n         d) Has not retreated from vicious attacks on Starr, despite evidence of Clinton's lies. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Perfectly loyal. \n\n         b) Consistent in attacks against Starr. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -5              \n\n                         Bruce Lindsey (The public's rating : To be determined ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Not yet known what he did to protect Clinton from the Lewinsky affair. Early signs suggest he knew a lot and helped clean it up. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Unquestionably loyal to his boss. \n\n         b) Silent. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating-- Not enough information to make a clean guess: Approx -5              \n\n                         Vernon Jordan (The public's rating: +3 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) May have known and must have suspected that Lewinsky was a mistress (given that he and Clinton are confidants, it's hard to believe that Jordan was totally in the dark about her). \n\n         b) Protected too readily by Washington establishment. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) May have helped Lewinsky simply because he's bighearted and generous not because she was the president's lover. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: -4              \n\n                         Sidney Blumenthal (The public's rating: -3 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun the president's denial for months without bothering to check if it was true. \n\n         b) Pushed for Clinton to be aggressive rather than contrite during his speech. \n\n         c) Trumpeted Clinton's denial but has not expressed chagrin now that Clinton has admitted his lies. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Consistent in belief that Starr is an ideologue and that the sex charges are political. \n\n         b) Loyal. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -3              \n\n                         Lanny Davis (The public's rating: -1 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun the president's denial for months without bothering to check if it was true. \n\n         b) Said for seven months that we'd have to \"wait and see.\" Then, when Clinton finally admitted his lies, Davis was hardly embarrassed or critical of the president. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Loyalty to old boss. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -3              \n\n                         George Stephanopoulos (The public's rating: +4 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Hypocritical for him to \"discover\" in 1998 that Clinton is a lying dog. After all, he knew that Clinton was a lech in 1992 and helped cover it up. Yet he has never shouldered responsibility for the lies Clinton told then. \n\n         b) Disloyal to turn on old boss as viciously as he has in past few weeks. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Had courage to turn on old boss and criticize his moral lapses. \n\n         b) Urged Clinton to be fully contrite. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Betty Currie (The public's rating: +8 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Abetted adulterous affair. \n\n         b) May have abetted obstruction of justice. \n\n         c) Knew what she was getting into when she took the job so can't be excused on grounds of naiveté. \n\n         d) Did not quit on principle. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Reputation for honesty. \n\n         b) Probably dragooned into cover-up against her will. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Paul Begala (The public's rating: 0 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun the president's denial for months without bothering to check if it was true. \n\n         b) Did not quit on principle after Clinton admitted lies. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Urged president to be contrite and wrote excellent, sufficiently apologetic speech. \n\n         b) Loyal. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Rahm Emanuel (The public's rating: -1 ) \n\n         Minuses and Pluses: \n\n         Same as Begala (except Emanuel didn't write the speech). \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Ann Lewis (The public's rating: -1 ) \n\n         Minuses and Pluses: \n\n         Same as Emanuel, except Lewis seems more morally outraged with Clinton than other White House aides. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Monica Lewinsky (The public's rating: -9 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Seduced a married man. \n\n         b) Damaged and endangered the presidency for the sake of casual sex. \n\n         c) Has lied frequently. \n\n         d) Is a capable adult, not--as her advocates claim--a naive child, defenseless against the president's wiles. \n\n         e) Protected herself with immunity when she needed to, even though her testimony would do enormous harm to Clinton and the nation. \n\n         f) Blabbed her \"secret\" affair to lots of people. (So, while she was dragged into the scandal against her will, it was her own loquaciousness that made the dragging possible.) \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Sexually exploited by her older boss. \n\n         b) Had her reputation smeared by Clintonistas and the media. \n\n         c) Betrayed by Linda Tripp. \n\n         d) Dragged into the scandal against her will. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Mike McCurry (The public's rating: +2 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun and spun and spun the president's denial for months without bothering to check if it was true. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Was clearly dismayed by the entire scandal and his role in it. \n\n         b) Is quitting the administration (though not, apparently, on principle). \n\n         c) Loyal. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: -1              \n\n                         David Kendall (The public's rating: 0 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Relied on iffy legalisms to help Clinton escape trouble. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Relying on iffy legalisms to help Clinton escape trouble is his job. He's a lawyer. \n\n         b) Admirably reticent, compared to Robert Bennett. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -1              \n\n                         The Rev. Jesse Jackson (The public's rating: +2 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Revealed Clinton family troubles immediately after his pastoral visit. \n\n         b) Parlayed pastoral visit into a week of self-promotion. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Graciously counseled a political rival in time of need. \n\n         b) Did not demand any political compensation in exchange. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -1              \n\n                         Rep. Bob Barr, R-Ga. (The public's rating: -5 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Unapologetically vicious, partisan, and unforgiving in his impeachment quest. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Consistent throughout the scandal: He has been pushing impeachment since before Monica materialized in January. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: 0              \n\n                         Kenneth Starr (The public's rating: -9 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Seems merciless toward Clinton. \n\n         b) Has pursued investigation into Clinton's private life with more zeal than seems appropriate. \n\n         c) Is too willing to provoke constitutional standoffs for the sake of his investigation, seems indifferent to the dignity of the presidency. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Was right about Clinton and Lewinsky. \n\n         b) Is compelled by law to investigate diligently and forcefully. \n\n         c) Has been patient with the stonewalling, deceiving Clinton. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         Paula Jones (The public's rating: -5 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Brought a legally dubious, gold-digging lawsuit. \n\n         b) Resisted a settlement that would have saved the nation much embarrassment. \n\n         c) Happily became a tool for Clinton's enemies. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Is vindicated because Clinton probably did it. \n\n         b) Forced Clinton's lechery out in the open. \n\n         c) Persisted in the face of ridicule and humiliation. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         The American People (The public's rating: +7 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Hypocritically claim to despise scandal, follow it breathlessly, then blame the media for obsessing over it. \n\n         b) Are secretly fascinated by the sleaziness of it. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Magnanimous toward the president. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         The Media (The public's rating: -8 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) No sense of proportionality. Coverage is wretchedly excessive even when it shouldn't be. \n\n         b) Endlessly self-involved. How many stories have you seen about the media and the scandal? \n\n         c) Unforgiving. The media want the scandal to continue, hence won't ever be satisfied that Clinton has suffered enough. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Worked hard to break a very important story and investigated the hell out of it. \n\n         b) Unfairly savaged by hypocritical American people (see above). \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         Leon Panetta (The public's rating: +1 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Slightly disloyal to old boss. \n\n         b) May have known about Clinton's extracurricular activities, yet turned a blind eye. \n\n         c) On television too much. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Urged Clinton early on to come clean. \n\n         b) Had good sense to leave the White House before corrupting himself. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         Hillary Clinton (The public's rating: +4 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Knew what a lech he was, yet always protected him. \n\n         b) May have always known truth about Lewinsky, yet still lied to protect Bill. \n\n         c) Chose aggressive, political strategy over contrition. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Lied to, betrayed, and cuckolded by husband. \n\n         b) Personally humiliated. \n\n         c) May have disgraced her own good name by echoing his denials on the Today show. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating-- She made a Faustian bargain, but you still feel sorry for Faust: +2              \n\n                         Al Gore (The public's rating: +3 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Did not (apparently) urge the president to come clean with American people. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Stayed loyal. \n\n         b) Did not take advantage of scandal to burnish his own image. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +2              \n\n                         Kathleen Willey (The public's rating: 0 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Was in it for the money (told her story partly in order to land a book contract). \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Seems to have told story honestly and forthrightly. \n\n         b) Reluctantly dragged into scandal. \n\n         c) Was victimized by Clinton. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +2              \n\n                         The Clinton Cabinet (The public's rating: +2 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun his denials without digging for the truth. \n\n         b) Did not quit on principle. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Were conscripted unwillingly into scandal defense. (Unlike political aides such as Begala, who are expected to do political dirty work, the Cabinet members are public servants who should be kept away from such sleaze.) \n\n         b) Were lied to by Clinton. \n\n         c) Loyal. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +3              \n\n                         Erskine Bowles (The public's rating: Doesn't care ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Refused to involve himself in the critical issue of the presidency. \n\n         b) Stood aside while White House was shanghaied by lawyers. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Stayed utterly silent about the scandal, clearly disgusted by it all. \n\n         b) Kept the rest of the administration focused on policy, thus preventing total executive paralysis. \n\n         c) Did not lie or spin for the president. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +4              \n\n                         Rep. Henry Hyde, R-Ill. (The public's rating: +4 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         There are none yet. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) (Mostly) kept his mouth shut and prevented the House Judiciary Committee from jumping the gun on impeachment. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: +4              \n\n                         Secret Service (The public's rating: +8 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Fought Starr subpoena too hard because it considers itself the Praetorian Guard. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Dragged unwillingly into scandal by Clinton (unlike Currie or his political aides, the Secret Service agents have no choice about being near the president). \n\n         b) Testified honestly but unwillingly, as they should. \n\n         c) Did not leak. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +5              \n\n                         Chelsea Clinton (The public's rating: +10 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         There are none. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Humiliated and embarrassed by her father's misbehavior. \n\n         b) Had family problems paraded before the world in a way they should not be. \n\n         c) Has been endlessly psychologized by the media. \n\n         d) Had her summer vacation ruined. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +10              \n\n         More Flytrap ...\n", "questions": [{"question": "The author of this piece seems to feel that blame befalls many people involved in this scandal because", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_1", "options": ["Even though they did not seem to be directly involved or cause problems because they did not quit their jobs on principle, they were at fault.", "They were not loyal to Clinton, and because he was the president, it was everyone's ultimate duty to remain loyal to him.", "They did not alert the media soon enough.", "They all knew what was going on, and they did not tell Hillary."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to the author, does the public received any blame for these events?  Why or why not?", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_2", "options": ["No, they had called to have Clinton impeached for his indiscretions, so they did more than they needed in order to show their disapproval for his actions.", "Yes, because they pretend to despise White House scandals such as this, yet, they could not get enough of it.", "No, how can they be held accountable for something that two consenting adults participate in?", "Yes, because they were obsessed with this issue, innocent people were hurt."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The information presented shows that the person who was the most innocent involved in this scandal to be", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_3", "options": ["Linda Tripp", "Hillary", "Monica", "Chelsea"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The public believes the person most responsible for the scandal is ", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_4", "options": ["Clinton", "Hillary", "Monica", "The media"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Hillary faulted in this scandal?", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_5", "options": ["She did not do enough to protect her daughter from what happened.", "She spoke out against her husband, and no one should speak out against our President regardless.", "She and Bill have an open relationship, and she is involved with a woman.", "She stood by him even though she knew he was guilty of the affair."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where does the public seem to fault Monica for her part in the scandal?", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_6", "options": ["She got caught.", "She embarrassed the nation.", "She told too many people about her affair.", "She hurt Chelsea."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a big reason that the public seems to despise Linda Tripp?", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_7", "options": ["She did not care about embarrassing the President.", "She tried to make a book deal and profit off of the situation.", "She betrayed her friend.", "She has a big mouth."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is one of Jessie Jackson's \"minuses\" in relation to this issue?", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_8", "options": ["He did not rebuke Clinton for his actions.", "He used his time as pastoral counsel for Clinton to gain media attention.", "He does not meet with Monica.", "He was not really there for Clinton in his time of spiritual need."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is one of the things that give Mike McCurry a \"plus?\"", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_9", "options": ["He completely enjoyed his time in the spotlight in regards to this scandal.", "He did his best to defend Clinton.", "He spoke out against Monica.", "He quit his position."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was George Stephanopoulous's biggest \"minus?'", "question_unique_id": "20006_VZW02G1T_10", "options": ["He tried to say that he had no idea that Clinton was the type of man who would have an affair even though he had been covering for him for years.", "He begged Clinton to deny everything.", "He stood by Clinton as he always had.", "He did not quit his job."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "62382", "set_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Thralls of the Endless Night", "year": 1951, "author": "Brackett, Leigh", "topic": "Regression (Civilization) -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Science fiction; Castaways -- Fiction; PS", "article": "THRALLS of the ENDLESS NIGHT\nBy LEIGH BRACKETT\nThe Ship held an ancient secret that meant\n\n life to the dying cast-aways of the void.\n\n Then Wes Kirk revealed the secret to his\n\n people's enemies—and found that his betrayal\n\n meant the death of the girl he loved.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1943.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWes Kirk shut his teeth together, hard. He turned his back on Ma Kirk\n and the five younger ones huddled around the box of heat-stones and\n went to the doorway, padding soft and tight with the anger in him.\n\n\n He shoved the curtain of little skins aside and crouched there with his\n thick shoulders fitted into the angle of the jamb, staring out, cold\n wind threading in across his splayed and naked feet.\n\n\n The hackles rose golden and stiff across Kirk's back. He said carefully,\n\n\n \"I would like to kill the Captain and the First Officer and the Second\n Officer and all the little Officers, and the Engineers, and all their\n families.\"\n\n\n His voice carried inside on the wind eddies. Ma Kirk yelled,\n\n\n \"Wes! You come here and let that curtain down! You want us all to\n freeze?\" Her dark-furred shoulders moved rhythmically over the rocking\n child. She added sharply, \"Besides, that's fool's talk, Jakk Randl's\n talk, and only gets the sucking-plant.\"\n\n\n \"Who's to hear it?\" Kirk raised his heavy overlids and let his pupils\n widen, huge liquid drops spreading black across his eyeballs, sucking\n the dim grey light into themselves, forcing line and shape out of\n blurred nothingness. He made no move to drop the curtain.\n\n\n The same landscape he had stared at since he was able to crawl by\n himself away from the box of heat-stones. Flat grey plain running\n right and left to the little curve of the horizon. Rocks on it, and\n edible moss. Wind-made gullies with grey shrubs thick in their bottoms,\n guarding their sour white berries with thorns and sacs of poisoned dust\n that burst when touched.\n\n\n Between the fields and the gullies there were huts like his own, sunk\n into the earth and sodded tight. A lot of huts, but not as many as\n there had been, the old ones said. The Hans died, and the huts were\n empty, and the wind and the earth took them back again.\n\n\n Kirk raised his shaggy head. The light of the yellow star they called\n Sun caught in the huge luminous blackness of his eyes.\n\n\n Beyond the Hansquarter, just where the flat plain began to rise, were\n the Engineers. Not many of them any more. You could see the dusty lumps\n where the huts had been, the tumbled heaps of metal that might have\n meant something once, a longer time ago than anyone could remember. But\n there were still plenty of huts standing. Two hands and one hand and\n a thumb of them, full of Engineers who said how the furrows should be\n laid for the planting but did nothing about the tilling of them.\n\n\n And beyond the Engineers—the Officers.\n\n\n The baby cried. Ma Kirk shrilled at her son, and two of the younger\n ones fought over a bone with no meat on it, rolling and snapping on the\n dirt floor. Kirk shifted his head forward to shut out the sound of them\n and followed the line of the plain upward with sullen, glowing eyes.\n\n\n The huts of the Engineers were larger than those in the Hansquarter.\n The huts of the Officers were not much larger than the Engineers', but\n there were more of them and they climbed higher up the grey slope.\n Five, nearly six hands of them, with the Captain's metal-roofed place\n highest of all.\n\n\n Highest and nearest, right under the titanic shape lifting jagged\n against the icy stars from the crest of the ridge.\n\n\n The Ship.\n\n\n Kirk's voice was soft in his thick throat. \"I would like to kill them,\"\n he said. \"I would like to kill them all.\"\n\n\n \"Yah!\" cried a shrill voice over his shoulder. \"All but the Captain's\n yellow daughter!\"\nKirk spun angrily around. Lil, next below himself, danced back out of\n reach, her kilt of little skins flying around her thin hips.\n\n\n \"Yah!\" she said again, and wrinkled her flat nose. \"I've seen you\n looking at her. All yellow from head to foot and beautiful pink lids to\n her eyes. You wouldn't kill\nher\n, I bet!\"\n\n\n \"I bet I'll half kill you if you don't shut up!\"\n\n\n Lil stuck out her tongue. Kirk aimed a cuff at her. She danced behind\n his arm and jerked the curtain down and shot away again, making two\n jumps over the brawling young ones and the box of heat-stones.\n\n\n She squatted demurely beside Ma Kirk and said, as though nothing had\n happened, \"Ma says will you please not let so much heat out.\"\n\n\n Kirk didn't say anything. He started to walk around the heat box. Lil\n yelled, \"Ma!\"\n\n\n The young ones stopped fighting, scuttling out of reach and watching\n with bright moist eyes, grinning. The baby had reached the hiccoughing\n stage.\n\n\n Ma Kirk said, \"Sit down, or go pick on somebody your own size.\"\n\n\n Kirk stopped. \"Aw, I wasn't going to hurt her. She has to be so smart!\"\n He leaned forward to glare at Lil. \"And I would so kill the Captain's\n daughter!\"\n\n\n The baby was quiet. Ma Kirk laid it down in a nest of skins put close\n to the heat and said wearily:\n\n\n \"You men, always talking about killing! Haven't we enough trouble\n without that?\"\n\n\n Kirk looked at the little box of heat-stones, his pupils shrinking.\n\n\n \"Maybe there'd be less trouble for us.\"\n\n\n Lil poked her shock of black hair around Ma Kirk's knee. Her big eyes\n glowed in the feeble light.\n\n\n She said, \"You men! He's no man, Ma. He's just a little boy who has to\n stay behind and shoo the beetles out of the fields.\"\n\n\n The young ones giggled, well out of reach. Lil's thin body was strung\n tight, quivering to move. \"Besides,\" she demanded, \"what have the\n Officers and the Engineers ever done to you that you should want to\n kill them—all but the Captain's yellow daughter?\"\n\n\n Kirk's big heavy chest swelled. \"Ma,\" he said, \"you make that brat shut\n up or I'll whale her, anyhow.\"\n\n\n Ma Kirk looked at him. \"Your Pa's still big enough to whale you, young\n man! Now you stop it, both of you.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" said Kirk sullenly. He squatted down, holding his hands\n over the heat. His back twitched with the cold, but it was nice to have\n his belly warm, even if it was empty. \"Wish Pa'd hurry up. I'm hungry.\n Hope they killed meat.\"\n\n\n Ma Kirk sighed. \"Seems like meat gets scarcer all the time, like the\n heat-stones.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe,\" said Kirk heavily, \"it all goes to the same place.\"\n\n\n Lil snorted. \"And where's that, Smarty?\"\n\n\n His anger forced out the forbidden words.\n\n\n \"Where everybody says, stupid! Into the Ship.\"\n\n\n There was suddenly a lot of silence in the room. The word \"Ship\" hung\n there, awesome and accusing. Ma Kirk's eyes flicked to the curtain over\n the door and back to her son.\n\n\n \"Don't you say things like that, Wes! You don't know.\"\n\n\n \"It's what everybody says. Why else would they guard the Ship the way\n they do? We can't even get near the outside of it.\"\n\n\n Lil tossed her head. \"Well neither do they.\"\n\n\n \"Not when we can see 'em, no. Of course not. But how do we know they\n haven't got ways of getting into the Ship that don't show from the\n plain? Jakk says a lot goes on that we don't know about.\"\n\n\n He got up, forcing his belief at them with his big square hands.\n\n\n \"There must be something in the Ship that they don't want us to have.\n Something valuable, something they want to keep for themselves. What\n else could it be but heat-stones and maybe dried meat?\"\n\n\n \"We don't know, Wes! The Ship is—well, we shouldn't talk about it.\n And the Officers wouldn't do that. If they wanted us killed off they'd\n let the Piruts in on us, or the shags, and let 'em finish us quick.\n Freezing and starving would take too long. There'd be too many of us if\n we found out, or got mad.\"\n\n\n Kirk snorted. \"You women know so much. If they let the shags or the\n Piruts in on us, how could they stop 'em before they killed everybody,\n including the Officers? As for slow death—well, they think we're dumb.\n They've kept us away from the Ship ever since the\nCrash\n, and nobody\n knows how long ago that was. They think they can go on doing it. They\n think we'd never suspect.\"\n\n\n \"Yah!\" said Lil sharply. \"You just like to talk. Why should the\n Officers want us killed off anyhow?\"\n\n\n Kirk looked at the thin fuzzy baby curled tight in the skins.\n\n\n \"There aren't enough heat-stones to go around any more. Why should they\n let their young ones cry with the cold?\"\nThere was silence in the room again. Kirk felt it, thick and choky.\n His heart kicked against his ribs. He was scared, suddenly. He'd never\n talked that much before. It was the baby, crying in the cold, that set\n him off. Suppose someone had heard him. Suppose he was reported for a\n mutineer. That meant the sucking-plant....\n\n\n \"Listen!\" said Ma Kirk.\n\n\n Nerves crackled icily all over Kirk's skin. But there wasn't any need\n to listen. The noise rolled in over them. It hit rock faces polished by\n the wind, and the drifts of crystalline pebbles, and it splintered into\n a tangle of echoes that came from everywhere at once, but there was\n no mistaking it. No need even to use sensitive earcups to locate its\n source.\n\n\n The great alarm gong by the Captain's hut.\n\n\n Kirk began to move, very swiftly and quietly. Before the third gong\n stroke hit them he had his spear and his sling and was already lifting\n aside the door curtain.\n\n\n Ma Kirk said stiffly, \"Which way are they coming?\"\n\n\n Kirk's ears twitched. He sorted the gong sounds, and the wind, and\n found a whisper underneath them, rushing up out of the gullied plain.\n\n\n Kirk pointed. \"From the west. Piruts, I think.\"\n\n\n Ma Kirk sucked in her breath. Her voice had no tone in it. \"Your Pa\n went hunting that way.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah,\" said Kirk. \"I'll watch out for him.\"\n\n\n He glanced back just before he let the curtain drop. The pale glow of\n the heat-stones picked dots of luminous blackness out of the gloom,\n where the still breathless faces were, watching him. He saw the blurred\n shapes of clay cooking pots, of low bed frames, of huddled bodies. The\n baby began to whimper again.\n\n\n Kirk shivered in the cold wind. \"Lil,\" he said. \"I would, too, kill the\n Captain's yellow daughter.\"\n\n\n \"Yah,\" said Lil. \"Go chase the beetles away.\"\n\n\n There was no conviction in her voice. The wind was freezing on Kirk's\n bare feet. He dropped the curtain and went across the plain.\n\n\n Men and youths like himself, old enough to fight, were spilling out of\n low doorways and forming companies on the flat ground. Kirk spotted\n Jakk Randl and fell in beside him. They stood with their backs to the\n wind, stamping and shivering, their head-hair and scant fur clouts\n blown straight out.\n\n\n Randl nudged Kirk's elbow. \"Look at 'em,\" he said, and coughed. He was\n always coughing, jerking his thin sharp face back and forth. Kirk could\n have broken his brittle light-furred body in two. All Randl's strength\n was in his eyes. The pupils were always spread, always hot with some\n bitter force, always probing. He wasn't much older than Kirk.\n\n\n Kirk looked up the hill. Officers were running from the huts below the\n gaunt, dead Ship. They didn't look so different from the Hans, only\n they were built a little taller and lighter, less bowed and bunchy in\n the shoulders, quicker on their feet.\n\n\n Kirk stepped behind Randl to shield him from the wind. His voice was\n only a whisper, but it had a hard edge. The baby's thin, terrible wail\n was still in his ears.\n\n\n \"Is it true, Jakk? Do you know? Because if they are....\"\n\n\n Randl laughed and shuddered with a secret, ugly triumph. \"I crawled up\n on the peak during the last darkness. The guards were cold and the wind\n made them blind and deaf. I lay in the rocks and watched. And I saw....\"\n\n\n He coughed. The Officers' voices rang sharp through the wind. Compact\n groups of men began to run, off toward the west. The whisper of sound\n had grown louder in Kirk's ears. He could hear men yelling and the\n ringing of metal on stone.\n\n\n He started to run, holding Randl's elbow. Grey dust blew under their\n feet. The drifts of crystal stones sent their sound shivering back at\n them in splinters. Kirk said fiercely:\n\n\n \"What did you see?\"\n\n\n They were passing under the hill now. Randl jerked his head. \"Up there,\n Wes.\"\n\n\n Kirk looked up. Someone was standing at the doorway of the Captain's\n hut. Someone tall and slender and the color of the Sunstar from head to\n foot.\n\n\n \"I saw her,\" said Randl hoarsely. \"She was carrying heat-stones into\n the Ship.\"\n\n\n Kirk's pupils shrank to points no warmer nor softer than the tip of his\n knife. He smiled, almost gently, looking up the hill.\n\n\n The captain's yellow daughter, taking life into the Ship.\nIt was a big raid. Kirk saw that when he scrambled up out of the last\n gully, half-carrying the wheezing Randl. The Piruts had come up the\n tongue of rock between two deep cuts and tackled the guards' pillbox\n head on. They hadn't taken it, not yet. But they were still trying,\n piling up their dead on the swept grey stone.\n\n\n They were using shags again. They drove the lumbering beasts on into\n the hail of stones and thrown spears from the pillbox, keeping low\n behind them, and then climbing on the round hairy bodies. It took\n courage, because sometimes the shags turned and clawed the men who\n drove them, and sometimes the dead ones weren't quite dead and it was\n too bad for the man who climbed on them.\n\n\n It looked to Kirk as though the pillbox was pretty far gone.\n\n\n He ran down the slope with the others, slipping in the crystal drifts.\n Randl was spent. Kirk kept him going, thinking of the huts back there\n on the plain, and Ma and Lil and the little ones, and the baby. You had\n to fight the Piruts, no matter what you thought about the Officers. You\n had to keep them from getting onto the plain.\n\n\n He wondered about Pa. Hunting shags in the outer gullies was mean work\n any time, but when the Piruts were raiding....\n\n\n No time to think about that. Wite, the second son of the First Officer,\n was signalling for double time. Kirk ran faster, his ears twitching\n furiously as they sifted the flying echoes into some kind of order.\n\n\n Pa hadn't been alone, of course. Frank and Russ went with him. The\n three of them would have sense enough to keep safe. Maybe they were in\n the pillbox.\n\n\n A big raid. More Piruts than he'd ever seen before. He wondered why.\n He wondered how so many of them had been able to get so close to the\n pillbox all at once, walking two or three abreast on the narrow tongue\n of rock under the spears and slingstones.\n\n\n They poured in through the gates of the stone-walled building,\n scattering up onto the parapet. There were slits in the rooms below and\n rusty metal things crouching behind them, but they weren't any good for\n fighting. A man needed shoulder room for spear and sling.\n\n\n It was pretty hot up there. The wall of bodies had built up so high,\n mostly with shags, that the Piruts were coming right over the wall.\n Kirk's nose wrinkled at the smell of blood. He avoided the biggest\n puddles and found a place to stand between the dead.\n\n\n Randl went down on his knees. He was coughing horribly, but his hot\n black eyes saw everything. He tried three times to lift his sling and\n gave it up.\n\n\n \"I'll cover you,\" said Kirk. He began taking crystal pebbles out of a\n big pile that was kept there and hurling them at the Piruts. They made\n a singing noise in the air, and they didn't stop going when they hit.\n They were heavy for their size, very heavy, with sharp edges.\n\n\n Randl said, \"Something funny, Wes. Too many Piruts. They couldn't risk\n 'em on an ordinary raid.\"\n\n\n Kirk grunted. A Pirut with red hair standing straight in the wind came\n over the wall. Kirk speared him left-handed in the belly, dodged the\n downstroke of his loaded sap, and kicked the body out of the way.\n\n\n He said, \"Wonder how they got so close, so fast?\"\n\n\n \"Some trick.\" Randl laughed suddenly. \"Funny their wanting the Ship as\n much as you and I do.\"\n\n\n \"Think they could know what's in it?\"\n\n\n Randl's narrow shoulders twitched. \"Near as we know, their legend is\n the same as ours. Something holy in the Ship, sacred and tabu. Only\n difference is they want to get it for themselves, and we want to keep\n it.\" He coughed and spat in sudden angry disgust. \"And we've swallowed\n that stuff. We've let the Officers hoard heat and food so they can live\n no matter what happens to us. We're fools, Wes! A lot of bloody fools!\"\n\n\n He got up and began jabbing with his spear at heads that poked up over\n the wall.\nThe Piruts began to slack off. Stones still whistled past Kirk's\n head—a couple of them had grazed him by now—and spears showered down,\n but they weren't climbing the walls any more.\n\n\n Randl grounded his spear, gasping. \"That's that. Pretty soon they'll\n break, and then we can start thinking about....\"\n\n\n He stopped. Kirk put a stone accurately through the back of a Pirut's\n head and said grimly:\n\n\n \"Yeah. About what\nwe're\ngoing to do.\"\n\n\n Randl didn't answer. He sat down suddenly, doubled over. Kirk grinned.\n \"Take it easy,\" he said softly. \"I'll cover you.\"\n\n\n Randl whispered, \"Wes. Wes!\" He held up one thin hand. Kirk let his own\n drop, looking at it. There was blood on it, running clear to the elbow.\n\n\n He went down beside Randl, putting his arms around him, trying to see.\n Randl shook him off.\n\n\n \"Don't move me, you fool! Just listen.\" His voice was harsh and rapid.\n He was holding both hands over the left side of his neck, where it\n joined the shoulder. Kirk could see the bright blood beating up through\n his fingers.\n\n\n He said, \"Jakk, I'll get the sawbones....\"\n\n\n Hot black eyes turned to his. Burnt-out fires in a face with the young\n beard hardly full on its sharp jaw.\n\n\n \"Sit down, Wes, quick, and listen. Sawbones is no good—and why would\n I want to go on living anyway?\"\n\n\n He smiled. Kirk had never seen him smile like that, without bitterness\n or pain. He sat down, crouched on the body of a man who lived only two\n huts away from him. The blood made little red fountains between Randl's\n fingers.\n\n\n \"It's up to you, Wes. You're the only one that really knows about the\n Ship. You'll do better than I would, anyhow. You're a fighter. You\n carry it on, so the Hans can live. Promise.\"\n\n\n Kirk nodded. He couldn't say anything. The heat was dying in Randl's\n eyes.\n\n\n \"Listen, Wes. I saw the secret way into Ship. Bend closer, and\n listen....\"\n\n\n Kirk bent. He didn't move for a long time. After a while Randl's voice\n stopped, and then the blood wasn't pumping any more, just oozing.\n Randl's hands slid away, so that Kirk could see the hole the stone had\n made. Everything seemed to be very quiet.\n\n\n Kirk sat there, holding Randl in his arms.\n\n\n Presently someone came up and shook Kirk's shoulder and said, \"Hey,\n kid, are you deaf? We been yelling for you.\" He stopped, and then said\n more gently, \"Oh. Jakk got it, did he?\"\n\n\n Kirk laid the body carefully on the stones and got up. \"Yeah.\"\n\n\n \"Kind of a pal of yours, wasn't he?\"\n\n\n \"He wasn't very strong. He needed someone to cover him.\"\n\n\n \"Too bad.\" The man shook his head, and then shrugged. \"Maybe it's\n better, at that. He was headed for trouble, that one. Kinda leading you\n that way, too, I heard. Always talking.\"\n\n\n He looked at Kirk's face and shut up suddenly. He turned away and\n grunted over his shoulders, \"The O.D.'s looking for you.\"\n\n\n Kirk followed. The wind was cold, howling up from the outer gullies.\nThe Officer of the Day was waiting at the north end of the wall.\n There was a ladder dropped over it now, and men were climbing up and\n down with bodies and sheaves of recovered spears. More were busy down\n below, rolling the dead Piruts and the shags down into the deep gullies\n for the scavenger rats and the living shags who didn't mind turning\n cannibal.\n\n\n That ladder made Kirk think of Pa. It was the only way for a man to get\n into the outer gullies from the west escarpment of the colony. He shook\n some of the queer heaviness out of his head, touched his forelock and\n said:\n\n\n \"I'm Wes Kirk, sir. You wanted me?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\" The O.D. was also the Third Officer. Taller than Kirk, thinner,\n with the hair going grey on his body and exhausted eyes sunk deep under\n his horny overlids. He said quietly:\n\n\n \"I'm sorry to have to tell you this....\"\n\n\n Kirk knew. The knowledge leaped through him. It was strange, to feel a\n spear-stab where there was no spear.\n\n\n He said, \"Pa.\"\n\n\n The Officer nodded. He seemed very tired, and he didn't look at Kirk.\n He hadn't, after the first glance.\n\n\n \"Your father, and his two friends.\"\n\n\n Kirk shivered. The horny lids dropped over his eyes. \"I wish I'd\n known,\" he whispered. \"I'd have killed more of them.\"\n\n\n The Officer put his hands flat on the top of the wall and looked at\n them as if they were strange things and no part of him.\n\n\n \"Kirk,\" he said, \"this is going to be hard to explain. I've never done\n anything as hard. The Piruts didn't kill them. They were responsible,\n but they didn't actually kill them.\"\n\n\n Wes raised his head slowly. \"I don't understand.\"\n\n\n \"We saw them coming up the tongue of rock. The Piruts were behind them,\n but not far. Not far enough. One of the three, it wasn't your father,\n called to us to put the ladder down. We waited....\"\n\n\n A muscle began to twitch under Kirk's eye. That, too, was something\n that had never happened before, like the stab of pain with no spear\n behind it. He licked his lips and repeated hoarsely:\n\n\n \"I don't understand.\"\n\n\n The Officer tightened suddenly and made one hand into a fist and beat\n it slowly on the wall, up and down.\n\n\n \"I didn't want to give the order. God knows I didn't want to! But there\n was nothing else to do.\"\n\n\n A man came up over the top of the ladder. He was carrying a body over\n his shoulder, and breathing hard.\n\n\n \"Here's Kirk,\" he said. \"Where'll I put him?\"\n\n\n There was a clear space off to the right. Kirk pointed to it. \"Over\n there, Charley. I'll help.\"\n\n\n It was hard to move. He'd never been tired like this before. He'd never\n been afraid like this, either. He didn't know what he was afraid of.\n Something in the Officer's voice.\n\n\n He helped to lay his father down. He'd seen bodies before. He'd handled\n them, fighting on the pillbox walls. But never one he'd known so long,\n one he'd eaten and slept and wrestled with. The thick arm that hauled\n him out of bed this morning, the big hands that warmed the baby against\n the barrel chest. You saw it lying lax and cold, but you didn't believe\n it.\n\n\n You saw it. You saw the spear shaft sticking out clean from the\n heart....\n\n\n You saw it....\n\n\n \"That's one of our spears!\" He screamed it, like a woman. \"One of our\n own—from the front!\"\n\n\n \"I let them get as close as I dared,\" said the Officer tonelessly. \"I\n tried to find a way. But there wasn't any way but the ladder, and that\n was what the Piruts wanted. That's why they made them come.\"\n\n\n Kirk's voice wasn't a voice at all. \"You killed them. You killed my\n father.\"\n\n\n \"Three lives, against all those back on the plain. We held our fire\n too long as it was, hoping. The Piruts nearly broke through. Try to\n understand! I had to do it.\"\n\n\n Kirk's spear made a flat clatter on the stone. He started forward. Men\n moved in and held him, without rancor, looking at their own feet.\n\n\n \"Please try to understand,\" whispered the Officer. \"I had to do it.\"\n\n\n The Officer, the bloody wall, the stars and the cold grey gullies all\n went away. There was nothing but darkness, and wind, a long way off.\n Kirk thought of Pa coming up under the wall, close to safety, close\n enough to touch it, and no way through. Pa and Frank and Russ, standing\n under the wall, looking up, and no way through.\n\n\n Looking up, calling to the men they knew, asking for help and getting a\n spear through the heart.\n\n\n After that, even the wind was gone, and the darkness had turned red.\nThere was a voice, a long way off. It said, \"God, he's strong!\" Over\n and over. It got louder. There were weights on his arms and legs, and\n he couldn't throw them off. He was pressed against something.\n\n\n It was the wall. He saw that after a while. The wall where the Officer\n had been standing. There were six men holding him, three on each side.\n The Officer was gone.\n\n\n Kirk relaxed. He was shivering and covered with rime from body sweat.\n Somebody whistled.\n\n\n \"Six men! Didn't know the kid had it in him.\"\n\n\n The Officer's voice said dully, \"No discipline. Better take him home.\"\n\n\n Kirk tried to turn. The six men swung with him. Kirk said, \"You better\n discipline me. You better kill me, because, if you don't, I'll kill\n you.\"\n\n\n \"I don't blame you, boy. Go and rest. You'll understand.\"\n\n\n \"I'll understand, all right.\" Kirk's voice was a hoarse, harsh whisper\n that came out by itself and wouldn't be stopped. \"I'll understand about\n Pa, and the Ship with the heat-stones in it, and the Captain's yellow\n daughter getting fat and warm while my sisters freeze and go hungry.\n I'll understand, and I'll make everybody else understand, too!\"\n\n\n The Officer's eyes held a quick fire. \"Boy! Do you know what you're\n saying?\"\n\n\n \"You bet I know!\"\n\n\n \"That's mutiny. For God's sake, don't make things worse!\"\n\n\n \"Worse for us, or for you?\" Kirk was shouting, holding his head up in\n the wind. \"Listen, you men! Do you know what the Officers are doing up\n there in the Ship they won't let us touch?\"\n\n\n There was an uneasy stirring among the Hans, a slipping aside of\n luminous black eyes. The Officer shut his jaw tight. He stepped in\n close to Kirk.\n\n\n \"Shut up,\" he said urgently. \"Don't make me punish you, not now. You're\n talking rot, but it's dangerous.\"\n\n\n Kirk's eyes were hot and not quite sane. He couldn't have stopped if\n he'd wanted to.\n\n\n \"Rot, is it? Jakk Randl knew. He saw with his own eyes and he told me\n while he was dying. The Captain's yellow daughter, sneaking heat-stones\n into....\"\n\n\n The Officer hit him on the jaw, carefully and without heat. Kirk sagged\n down. The Officer stepped back, looking as though he had a pain in him\n that he didn't want to show.\n\n\n He said quietly, but so that everyone could hear him, \"Discipline, for\n not longer than it takes to clear the rock below.\"\n\n\n Two of the men nodded and took Kirk away down a flight of stone steps.\n One of the four who were left looked over the wall and spat.\n\n\n \"Rock's pretty near clean,\" he said, \"but even so....\" He shook himself\n like a dog. \"That Jakk Randl, he was always talking.\"\n\n\n One of the others flicked a quick look around and whispered, \"Yeah. And\n maybe he knew what he was talking about!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does the Officer deliver his message so carefully to Kirk?", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_1", "options": ["He can hardly control contain his anger for what Pa did", "He needs to maintain control over the relationship with the Hans", "He killed Pa in a case of mistaken identity", "He was good friends with Kirk’s father"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What do the Piruts want with the Ship?", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_2", "options": ["To overtake it with the Hans", "The same thing the Hans want with it", "To kidnap the yellow daughter from it", "They are not interested in the Ship, only raiding the Hans"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the most powerful weapon any of the characters in the story have for combat?", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_3", "options": ["Hunting rifles", "Cannons", "Hand-thrown implements", "Catapults"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is different about Jakk’s physical abilities?", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_4", "options": ["His brute strength", "His incredible jumping over the wall", "His running stamina", "His eye sight"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The Officer told Kirk that the following was ultimately at fault for Pa’s demise:", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_5", "options": ["Shags", "Piruts", "Captain’s daughter", "Hans"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What do we find out about about the Officers through the course of the story:", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_6", "options": ["They protect the plain and the people living on it", "They are secretly allied with Piruts and staged the raid", "They are conquering Pirut territory", "They are at war with the Hans"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What best defines the power struggle between the Hans and the Officers?", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_7", "options": ["The Officers seemingly maintain control over the Hans for now", "The Hans work with the Piruts to stave off the Officers", "The Officers are fighting with the Hans to take over their land", "The Hans are in control of the Officers and discipline their activities"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What do we learn about the relationship of the Ship to the Hans?", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_8", "options": ["The Ship is only a legend of the Hans and not a real place", "The Hans people originated from those that first landed on the ship", "The Ship was carrying heat crystals that allowed the Hans to survive winter", "The Ship is supported on the Hans resources"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Kirk think happened to his father after the message from the Officer?", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_9", "options": ["Pa had turned on the Hans and led the Piruts straight to the pillboxes", "Pa was running to safety and was then killed to spare the rest of the people on the plain", "Pa had invaded the Ship and was killed as discipline", "Pa had double crossed the Officer"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Where did the Captain come from?", "question_unique_id": "62382_0ORSPEA2_10", "options": ["He is never described or heard from", "He was a defector of the Hans that commissioned the ship which has not yet set sail", "He is a Pirut that mutinied from the main settlement", "He travelled from outside of the solar system"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/3/8/62382//62382-h//62382-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63862", "set_unique_id": "63862_XR1KS2MX", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Stalemate in Space", "year": 1954, "author": "Harness, Charles L.", "topic": "War stories; Adventure stories; Science fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; PS", "article": "*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STALEMATE IN SPACE ***\nStalemate In Space\nBy CHARLES L. HARNESS\nTwo mighty metal globes clung in a murderous\n\n death-struggle, lashing out with flames of poison.\n\n Yet deep in their twisted, radioactive wreckage\n\n the main battle raged—where a girl swayed\n\n sensuously before her conqueror's mocking eyes.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1949.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nAt first there was only the voice, a monotonous murmur in her ears.\n\n\n \"\nDie now—die now—die now\n—\"\n\n\n Evelyn Kane awoke, breathing slowly and painfully. The top of the\n cubicle was bulging inward on her chest, and it seemed likely that a\n rib or two was broken. How long ago? Years? Minutes? She had no way of\n knowing. Her slender right hand found the oxygen valve and turned it.\n For a long while she lay, hurting and breathing helplessly.\n\n\n \"\nDie now—die now—die now\n—\"\n\n\n The votron had awakened her with its heart-breaking code message, and\n it was her duty to carry out its command. Nine years after the great\n battle globes had crunched together the mentors had sealed her in this\n tiny cell, dormant, unwaking, to be livened only when it was certain\n her countrymen had either definitely won—or lost.\n\n\n The votron's telepathic dirge chronicled the latter fact. She had\n expected nothing else.\n\n\n She had only to find the relay beside her cot, press the key that would\n set in motion gigantic prime movers in the heart of the great globe,\n and the conquerors would join the conquered in the wide and nameless\n grave of space.\n\n\n But life, now doled out by the second, was too delicious to abandon\n immediately. Her mind, like that of a drowning person, raced hungrily\n over the memories of her past.\n\n\n For twenty years, in company with her great father, she had watched\nThe Defender\ngrow from a vast metal skeleton into a planet-sized\n battle globe. But it had not grown fast enough, for when the Scythian\n globe,\nThe Invader\n, sprang out of black space to enslave the budding\n Terran Confederacy,\nThe Defender\nwas unfinished, half-equipped, and\n undermanned.\n\n\n The Terrans could only fight for time and hope for a miracle.\nThe Defender\n, commanded by her father, Gordon, Lord Kane, hurled\n itself from its orbit around Procyon and met\nThe Invader\nwith giant\n fission torpedoes.\n\n\n And then, in an intergalactic proton storm beyond the Lesser Magellanic\n Cloud, the globes lost their bearings and collided. Hordes of brute-men\n poured through the crushed outer armor of the stricken\nDefender\n.\n\n\n The prone woman stirred uneasily. Here the images became unreal\n and terrible, with the recurrent vision of death. It had taken the\n Scythians nine years to conquer\nThe Defender's\nouter shell. Then had\n come that final interview with her father.\n\n\n \"In half an hour our last space port will be captured,\" he had\n telepathed curtly. \"Only one more messenger ship can leave\nThe\n Defender\n. Be on it.\"\n\n\n \"No. I shall die here.\"\n\n\n His fine tired eyes had studied her face in enigmatic appraisal. \"Then\n die usefully. The mentors are trying to develop a force that will\n destroy both globes in the moment of our inevitable defeat. If they are\n successful, you will have the task of pressing the final button of the\n battle.\"\n\n\n \"There's an off-chance you may survive,\" countered a mentor. \"We're\n also working on a means for your escape—not only because you are\n Gordon's daughter, but because this great proton storm will prevent\n radio contact with Terra for years, and we want someone to escape with\n our secret if and when our experiments prove successful.\"\n\n\n \"But you must expect to die,\" her father had warned with gentle\n finality.\n\n\n She clenched her fingernails vehemently into her palms and wrenched\n herself back to the present.\n\n\n That time had come.\n\n\n With some effort she worked herself out of the crumpled bed and lay on\n the floor of her little cubicle, panting and holding her chest with\n both hands. The metal floor was very cold. Evidently the enemy torpedo\n fissionables had finally broken through to the center portions of the\n ship, letting in the icy breath of space. Small matter. Not by freezing\n would she die.\n\n\n She reached out her hand, felt for the all-important key, and gasped in\n dismay. The mahogany box containing the key had burst its metal bonds\n and was lying on its side. The explosion that had crushed her cubicle\n had been terrific.\n\n\n With a gurgle of horror she snapped on her wrist luminar and examined\n the interior of the box.\n\n\n It was a shattered ruin.\nOnce the fact was clear, she composed herself and lay there, breathing\n hard and thinking. She had no means to construct another key. At best,\n finding the rare tools and parts would take months, and during the\n interval the invaders would be cutting loose from the dead hulk that\n clutched their conquering battle globe in a metallic rigor mortis.\n\n\n She gave herself six weeks to accomplish this stalemate in space.\n\n\n Within that time she must know whether the prime movers were still\n intact, and whether she could safely enter the pile room herself,\n set the movers in motion, and draw the moderator columns. If it were\n unsafe, she must secure the unwitting assistance of her Scythian\n enemies.\n\n\n Still prone, she found the first-aid kit and taped her chest expertly.\n The cold was beginning to make itself felt, so she flicked on the\n chaudiere she wore as an under-garment to her Scythian woman's uniform.\n Then she crawled on her elbows and stomach to the tiny door, spun the\n sealing gear, and was soon outside. Ignoring the pain and pulling on\n the side of the imitation rock that contained her cell, she got slowly\n to her feet. The air was thin indeed, and frigid. She turned the valve\n of her portable oxygen bottle almost subconsciously, while exploring\n the surrounding blackened forest as far as she could see. Mentally she\n was alert for roving alien minds. She had left her weapons inside the\n cubicle, except for the three things in the little leather bag dangling\n from her waist, for she knew that her greatest weapon in the struggle\n to come would be her apparent harmlessness.\n\n\n Four hundred yards behind her she detected the mind of a low-born\n Scythe, of the Tharn sun group. Very quickly she established it as that\n of a tired, brutish corporal, taking a mop-up squad through the black\n stumps and forlorn branches of the small forest that for years had\n supplied oxygen to the defenders of this sector.\n\n\n The corporal could not see her green Scythian uniform clearly, and\n evidently took her for a Terran woman. In his mind was the question:\n Should he shoot immediately, or should he capture her? It had been two\n months since he had seen a woman. But then, his orders were to shoot.\n Yes, he would shoot.\n\n\n Evelyn turned in profile to the beam-gun and stretched luxuriously,\n hoping that her grimace of pain could not be detected. With\n satisfaction, she sensed a sudden change of determination in the mind\n of the Tharn. The gun was lowered, and the man was circling to creep up\n behind her. He did not bother to notify his men. He wanted her first.\n He had seen her uniform, but that deterred him not a whit. Afterwards,\n he would call up the squad. Finally, they would kill her and move on.\n Women auxiliaries had no business here, anyway.\n\n\n Hips dipping, Evelyn sauntered into the shattered copse. The man moved\n faster, though still trying to approach quietly. Most of the radions in\n the mile-high ceiling had been destroyed, and the light was poor. He\n was not surprised when he lost track of his quarry. He tip-toed rapidly\n onward, picking his way through the charred and fallen branches,\n thinking that she must turn up again soon. He had not gone twenty yards\n in this manner when a howl of unbearable fury sounded in his mind, and\n the dull light in his brain went out.\nShe fought for her life under that mile-high ceiling.\nBreathing deeply from her mental effort, the woman stepped from\n behind a great black tree trunk and hurried to the unconscious man.\n For I.Q.'s of 100 and less, telepathic cortical paralysis was quite\n effective. With cool efficiency and no trace of distaste she stripped\n the odorous uniform from the man, then took his weapon, turned the beam\n power down very low, and needled a neat slash across his throat. While\n he bled to death, she slipped deftly into the baggy suit, clasped the\n beam gun by the handle, and started up the sooty slope. For a time, at\n least, it would be safer to pass as a Tharn soldier than as any kind of\n a woman.\nII\n\n\n The inquisitor leaned forward, frowning at the girl before him.\n\n\n \"Name?\"\n\n\n \"Evelyn Kane.\"\n\n\n The eyes of the inquisitor widened. \"So you admit to a Terran name.\n Well, Terran, you are charged with having stolen passage on a supply\n lorry, and you also seem to be wearing the uniform of an infantry\n corporal as well as that of a Scythian woman auxiliary. Incidentally,\n where is the corporal? Did you kill him?\"\n\n\n He was prepared for a last-ditch denial. He would cut it short, have\n the guards remove her, and execution would follow immediately. In a\n way, it was unfortunate. The woman was obviously of a high Terran\n class. No—he couldn't consider that. His slender means couldn't afford\n another woman in his quarters, and besides, he wouldn't feel safe with\n this cool murderess.\n\n\n \"Do you not understand the master tongue? Why did you kill the\n corporal?\" He leaned impatiently over his desk.\n\n\n The woman stared frankly back at him with her clear blue eyes. The\n guards on either side of her dug their nails into her arms, as was\n their custom with recalcitrant prisoners, but she took no notice.\n\n\n She had analyzed the minds of the three men. She could handle the\n inquisitor alone or the two guards alone, but not all three.\n\n\n \"If you aren't afraid of me, perhaps you'd be so kind as to send the\n guards out for a few minutes,\" she said, placing a hand on her hip. \"I\n have interesting information.\"\n\n\n So that was it. Buy her freedom by betraying fugitive Terrans. Well, he\n could take the information and then kill her. He nodded curtly to the\n guards, and they walked out of the hut, exchanging sly winks with one\n another.\n\n\n Evelyn Kane crossed her arms across her chest and felt her broken rib\n gingerly. The inquisitor stared up at her in sadistic admiration. He\n would certainly be on hand for the execution. His anticipation was cut\n short with a horrible realization. Under the paralyzing force of a mind\n greater than his own, he reached beneath the desk and switched off the\n recorder.\n\n\n \"Who is the Occupational Commandant for this Sector,\" she asked\n tersely. This must be done swiftly before the guards returned.\n\n\n \"Perat, Viscount of Tharn,\" replied the man mechanically.\n\n\n \"What is the extent of his jurisdiction?\"\n\n\n \"From the center of the Terran globe, outward four hundred miles\n radius.\"\n\n\n \"Good. Prepare for me the usual visa that a woman clerk needs for\n passage to the offices of the Occupational Commandant.\"\n\n\n The inquisitor filled in blanks in a stiff sheet of paper and stamped a\n seal at its bottom.\n\n\n \"You will add in the portion reserved for 'comments', the following:\n 'Capable clerk. Others will follow as they are found available.'\"\n\n\n The man's pen scratched away obediently.\n\n\n Evelyn Kane smiled gently at the impotent, inwardly raging inquisitor.\n She took the paper, folded it, and placed it in a pocket in her blouse.\n \"Call the guards,\" she ordered.\n\n\n He pressed the button on his desk, and the guards re-entered.\n\n\n \"This person is no longer a prisoner,\" said the inquisitor woodenly.\n \"She is to take the next transport to the Occupational Commandant of\n Zone One.\"\n\n\n When the transport had left, neither inquisitor nor guards had any\n memory of the woman. However, in the due course of events, the\n recording was gathered up with many others like it, boxed carefully,\n and sent to the Office of the Occupational Commandant, Zone One, for\n auditing.\nEvelyn was extremely careful with her mental probe as she descended\n from the transport. The Occupational Commandant would undoubtedly\n be high-born and telepathic. He must not have occasion to suspect a\n similar ability in a mere clerk.\n\n\n Fighting had passed this way, too, and recently. Many of the buildings\n were still smoking, and many of the radions high above were either\n shot out or obscured by slowly drifting dust clouds. The acrid odor of\n radiation-remover was everywhere.\n\n\n She caught the sound of spasmodic small-arm fire.\n\n\n \"What is that?\" she asked the transport attendant.\n\n\n \"The Commandant is shooting prisoners,\" he replied laconically.\n\n\n \"Oh.\"\n\n\n \"Where did you want to go?\"\n\n\n \"To the personnel office.\"\n\n\n \"That way.\" He pointed to the largest building of the group—two\n stories high, reasonably intact.\n\n\n She walked off down the gravel path, which was stained here and there\n with dark sticky red. She gave her visa to the guard at the door and\n was admitted to an improvised waiting room, where another guard eyed\n her stonily. The firing was much nearer. She recognized the obscene\n coughs of a Faeg pistol and began to feel sick.\n\n\n A woman in the green uniform of the Scythe auxiliary came in, whispered\n something to the guard, and then told Evelyn to follow her.\n\n\n In the anteroom a grey cat looked her over curiously, and Evelyn\n frowned. She might have to get rid of the cat if she stayed here. Under\n certain circumstances the animal could prove her deadliest enemy.\n\n\n The next room held a foppish little man, evidently a supervisor of some\n sort, who was studying her visa.\n\n\n \"I'm very happy to have you here, S'ria—ah—\"—he looked at the visa\n suspiciously—\"S'ria Lyn. Do sit down. But, as I was just remarking to\n S'ria Gerek, here\"—he nodded to the other woman, who smiled back—\"I\n wish the field officers would make up their august minds as to whether\n they want you or don't want you. Just why did they transfer you to\n H.Q.?\"\n\n\n She thought quickly. This pompous little ass would have to be given\n some answer that would keep him from checking with the inquisitor. It\n would have to be something personal. She looked at the false black in\n his eyebrows and sideburns, and the artificial way in which he had\n combed hair over his bald spot. She crossed her knees slowly, ignoring\n the narrowing eyes of S'ria Gerek, and smoothed the back of her braided\n yellow hair. He was studying her covertly.\n\n\n \"The men in the fighting zones are uncouth, S'ria Gorph,\" she said\n simply. \"I was told that\nyou\n, that is, I mean—\"\n\n\n \"Yes?\" he was the soul of graciousness. S'ria Gerek began to dictate\n loudly into her mechanical transcriber.\n\n\n Evelyn cleared her throat, averted her eyes, and with some effort,\n managed a delicate flush. \"I meant to say, I thought I would be happier\n working for—working here. So I asked for a transfer.\"\n\n\n S'ria Gorph beamed. \"Splendid. But the occupation isn't over, yet,\n you know. There'll be hard work here for several weeks yet, before we\n cut loose from the enemy globe. But you do your work well\"—winking\n artfully—\"and I'll see that—\"\n\n\n He stopped, and his face took on a hunted look of mingled fear and\n anxiety. He appeared to listen.\n\n\n Evelyn tensed her mind to receive and deceive a mental probe. She was\n certain now that the Zone Commandant was high-born and telepathic. The\n chances were only fifty-fifty that she could delude him for any length\n of time if he became interested in her. He must be avoided if at all\n possible. It should not be too difficult. He undoubtedly had a dozen\n personal secretaries and/or concubines and would take small interest in\n the lowly employees that amused Gorph.\n\n\n Gorph looked at her uncertainly. \"Perat, Viscount of the Tharn Suns,\n sends you his compliments and wishes to see you on the balcony.\" He\n pointed to a hallway. \"All the way through there, across to the other\n wing.\"\n\n\n As she left, she heard all sound in the room stop. The transcribing and\n calculating machines trailed off into a watchful silence, and she could\n feel the eyes of the men and women on her back. She noticed then that\n the Faeg had ceased firing.\nHer heart was beating faster as she walked down the hall. She felt a\n very strong probe flooding over her brain casually, palping with mild\n interest the artificial memories she supplied: Escapades with officers\n in the combat areas. Reprimands. Demotion and transfer. Her deception\n of Gorph. Her anticipation of meeting a real Viscount and hoping he\n would let her dance for him.\n\n\n The questing probe withdrew as idly as it had come, and she breathed\n a sigh of relief. She could not hope to deceive a suspicious telepath\n for long. Perat was merely amused at her \"lie\" to his under-supervisor.\n He had accepted her at her own face value, as supplied by her false\n memories.\n\n\n She opened the door to the balcony and saw a man leaning moodily on the\n balustrade. He gave no immediate notice of her presence.\n\n\n The five hundred and sixth heir of Tharn was of uncertain age, as were\n most of the men of both globes. Only the left side of his face could be\n seen. It was gaunt and leathery, and a deep thin scar lifted the corner\n of his mouth into a satanic smile. A faint paunch was gathering at his\n abdomen, as befitted a warrior turned to boring paper work. His closely\n cut black hair and the two sparkling red-gemmed rings—apparently\n identical—on his right hand seemed to denote a certain fastidiousness\n and unconscious superiority. To Evelyn the jeweled fingers bespoke an\n unnatural contrast to the past history of the man and were symptomatic\n of a personality that could find stimulation only in strange and cruel\n pleasures.\n\n\n In alarm she suddenly realized that she had inadvertently let her\n appraisal penetrate her uncovered conscious mind, and that this probe\n was there awaiting it.\n\n\n \"You are right,\" he said coldly, still staring into the court below.\n \"Now that the long battle is over, there is little left to divert me.\"\n\n\n He pushed the Faeg across the coping toward her. \"Take this.\"\n\n\n He had not as yet looked at her.\n\n\n She crossed the balcony, simultaneously grasping the pistol he offered\n her and looking down into the courtyard. There seemed to be nearly\n twenty Terrans lying about, in pools of their own blood.\n\n\n Only one man, a Terran officer of very high rank—was left standing.\n His arms were folded somberly across his chest, and he studied the\n killer above him almost casually. But when the woman came out, their\n eyes met, and he started imperceptibly.\n\n\n Evelyn Kane felt a horrid chill creeping over her. The man's hair was\n white, now, and his proud face lined with deep furrows, but there could\n be no mistake. It was Gordon, Lord Kane.\n\n\n Her father.\n\n\n The sweat continued to grow on her forehead, and she felt for a moment\n that she needed only to wish hard enough, and this would be a dream.\n A dream of a big, kind, dark-haired man with laugh-wrinkles about his\n eyes, who sat her on his knee when she was a little girl and read\n bedtime stories to her from a great book with many pictures.\n\n\n An icy, amused voice came through: \"Our orders are to kill all\n prisoners. It is entertaining to shoot down helpless men, isn't it? It\n warms me to know that I am cruel and wanton, and worthy of my trust.\"\n\n\n Even in the midst of her horror, a cold, analytical part of her was\n explaining why the Commandant had called her to the balcony. Because\n all captured Terrans had to be killed, he hated his superiors, his own\n men, and especially the prisoners. A task so revolting he could not\n relegate to his own officers. He must do it himself, but he wanted his\n underlings to know he loathed them for it. She was merely a symbol of\n that contempt. His next words did not surprise her.\n\n\n \"It is even more stimulating to require a shuddering female to kill\n them. You are shuddering you know?\"\n\n\n She nodded dumbly. Her palm was so wet that a drop of sweat dropped\n from it to the floor. She was thinking hard. She could kill the\n Commandant and save her father for a little while. But then the\n problem of detonating the pile remained, and it would not be solved\n more quickly by killing the man who controlled the pile area. On the\n contrary if she could get him interested in her—\n\n\n \"So far as our records indicate,\" murmured Perat, \"the man down there\n is the last living Terran within\nThe Defender\n. It occurred to me that\n our newest clerk would like to start off her duties with a bang. The\n Faeg is adjusted to a needle-beam. If you put a bolt between the man's\n eyes, you may dance for me tonight, and perhaps there will be other\n nights—\"\n\n\n The woman seemed lost in thought for a long time. Slowly, she lifted\n the ugly little weapon. The doomed Terran looked up at her peacefully,\n without expression. She lowered the Faeg, her arm trembling.\n\n\n Gordon, Lord Kane, frowned faintly, then closed his eyes. She raised\n the gun again, drew cross hairs with a nerveless wrist, and squeezed\n the trigger. There was a loud, hollow cough, but no recoil. The Terran\n officer, his eyes still closed and arms folded, sank to the ground,\n face up. Blood was running from a tiny hole in his forehead.\n\n\n The man leaning on the balustrade turned and looked at Evelyn, at first\n with amused contempt, then with narrowing, questioning eyes.\n\n\n \"Come here,\" he ordered.\n\n\n The Faeg dropped from her hand. With a titanic effort she activated her\n legs and walked toward him.\n\n\n He was studying her face very carefully.\n\n\n She felt that she was going to be sick. Her knees were so weak that she\n had to lean on the coping.\n\n\n With a forefinger he lifted up the mass of golden curls that hung\n over her right forehead and examined the scar hidden there, where the\n mentors had cut into her frontal lobe. The tiny doll they had created\n for her writhed uneasily in her waist-purse, but Perat seemed to be\n thinking of something else, and missed the significance of the scar\n completely.\n\n\n He dropped his hand. \"I'm sorry,\" he said with a quiet weariness. \"I\n shouldn't have asked you to kill the Terran. It was a sorry joke.\"\n Then: \"Have you ever seen me before?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" she whispered hoarsely. His mind was in hers, verifying the fact.\n\n\n \"Have you ever met my father, Phaen, the old Count of Tharn?\"\n\n\n \"No.\"\n\n\n \"Do you have a son?\"\n\n\n \"No.\"\n\n\n His mind was out of hers again, and he had turned moodily back,\n surveying the courtyard and the dead. \"Gorph will be wondering what\n happened to you. Come to my quarters at the eighth metron tonight.\"\n\n\n Apparently he suspected nothing.\nFather. Father. I had to do it. But we'll all join you, soon. Soon.\nIII\n\n\n Perat lay on his couch, sipping cold purple\nterif\nand following the\n thinly-clad dancer with narrowed eyes. Music, soft and subtle, floated\n from his communications box, illegally tuned to an officer's club\n somewhere. Evelyn made the rhythm part of her as she swayed slowly on\n tiptoe.\n\n\n For the last thirty \"nights\"—the hours allotted to rest and sleep—it\n had been thus. By \"day\" she probed furtively into the minds of the\n office staff, memorizing area designations, channels for official\n messages, and the names and authorizations of occupational field crews.\n By night she danced for Perat, who never took his eyes from her, nor\n his probe from her mind. While she danced it was not too difficult to\n elude the probe. There was an odd autohypnosis in dancing that blotted\n out memory and knowledge.\n\n\n \"Enough for now,\" he ordered. \"Careful of your rib.\"\n\n\n When he had first seen the bandages on her bare chest, that first\n night, she had been ready with a memory of dancing on a freshly waxed\n floor, and of falling.\n\n\n Perat seemed to be debating with himself as she sat down on her own\n couch to rest. He got up, unlocked his desk, and drew out a tiny reel\n of metal wire, which Evelyn recognized as being feed for an amateur\n stereop projector. He placed the reel in a projector that had been\n installed in the wall, flicked off the table luminar, and both of them\n waited in the dark, breathing rather loudly.\n\n\n Suddenly the center of the room was bright with a ball of light some\n two feet in diameter, and inside the luminous sphere were an old man, a\n woman, and a little boy of about four years. They were walking through\n a luxurious garden, and then they stopped, looked up, and waved gaily.\n\n\n Evelyn studied the trio with growing wonder. The old man and the boy\n were complete strangers.\nBut the woman—!\n\"That is Phaen, my father,\" said Perat quietly. \"He stayed at home\n because he hated war. And that is a path in our country estate on\n Tharn-R-VII. The little boy I fail to recognize, beyond a general\n resemblance to the Tharn line.\n\n\n \"But—\ncan you deny that you are the woman\n?\"\n\n\n The stereop snapped off, and she sat wordless in the dark.\n\n\n \"There seemed to be some similarity—\" she admitted. Her throat was\n suddenly dry. Yet, why should she be alarmed? She really didn't know\n the woman.\n\n\n The table luminar was on now, and Perat was prowling hungrily about the\n room, his scar twisting his otherwise handsome face into a snarling\n scowl.\n\n\n \"Similarity! Bah! That loop of hair over her right forehead hid a scar\n identical to yours. I have had the individual frames analyzed!\"\n\n\n Evelyn's hands knotted unconsciously. She forced her body to relax, but\n her mind was racing. This introduced another variable to be controlled\n in her plan for destruction. She\nmust\nmake it a known quantity.\n\n\n \"Did your father send it to you?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"The day before you arrived here. It had been en route for months, of\n course.\"\n\n\n \"What did he say about it?\"\n\n\n \"He said, 'Your widow and son send greetings. Be of good cheer, and\n accept our love.' What nonsense! He knows very well I'm not married and\n that—well, if I have ever fathered any children, I don't know about\n them.\"\n\n\n \"Is that all he said?\"\n\n\n \"That's all, except that he included this ring.\" He pulled one of the\n duplicate jewels from his right middle finger and tossed it to her.\n \"It's identical to the one he had made for me when I entered on my\n majority. For a long time it was thought that it was the only stone of\n its kind on all the planets of the Tharn suns, a mineralogical freak,\n but I guess he found another. But why should I want two of them?\"\n\n\n Evelyn crossed the room and returned the ring.\n\n\n \"Existence is so full of mysteries, isn't it?\" murmured Perat.\n \"Sometimes it seems unfortunate that we must pass through a sentient\n phase on our way to death. This foolish, foolish war. Maybe the old\n count was right.\"\n\n\n \"You could be courtmartialed for that.\"\n\n\n \"Speaking of courtmartials, I've got to attend one tonight—an appeal\n from a death sentence.\" He arose, smoothed his hair and clothes, and\n poured another glass of\nterif\n. \"Some fool inquisitor can't show\n proper disposition of a woman prisoner.\"\n\n\n Evelyn's heart skipped a beat. \"Indeed?\"\n\n\n \"The wretch insists that he could remember if we would just let him\n alone. I suppose he took a bribe. You'll find one now and then who\n tries for a little extra profit.\"\n\n\n She must absolutely not be seen by the condemned inquisitor. The\n stimulus would almost certainly make him remember.\n\n\n \"I'll wait for you,\" she said indifferently, thrusting her arms out in\n a languorous yawn.\n\n\n \"Very well.\" Perat stepped to the door, then turned and looked back at\n her. \"On the other hand, I may need a clerk. It's way after hours, and\n the others have gone.\"\n\n\n Beneath a gesture of wry protest, she swallowed rapidly.\n\n\n \"Perhaps you'd better come,\" insisted Perat.\n\n\n She stood up, unloosed her waist-purse, checked its contents swiftly,\n and then followed him out.\n\n\n This might be a very close thing. From the purse she took a bottle of\n perfume and rubbed her ear lobes casually.\n\n\n \"Odd smell,\" commented Perat, wrinkling his nose.\n\n\n \"Odd scent,\" corrected Evelyn cryptically. She was thinking about\n the earnest faces of the mentors as they instructed her carefully in\n the use of the \"perfume.\" The adrenalin glands, they had explained,\n provided a useful and powerful stimulant to a man in danger. Adrenalin\n slowed the heart and digestion, increased the systole and blood\n pressure, and increased perspiration to cool the skin. But there\n could be too much of a good thing. An overdose of adrenalin, they had\n pointed out, caused almost immediate edema. The lungs filled rapidly\n with the serum and the victim ... drowned. The perfume she possessed\n over-stimulated, in some unknown way, the adrenals of frightened\n persons. It had no effect on inactive adrenals.\n\n\n The question remained—who would be the more frightened, she or the\n condemned inquisitor?\n\n\n She was perspiring freely, and the blonde hair on her arms and neck was\n standing stiffly when Perat opened the door for her and they entered\n the Zone Provost's chambers.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is Evelyn’s key defense weapon?", "question_unique_id": "63862_XR1KS2MX_1", "options": ["She carries a concealed laser gun", "Her active communication with the mentors", "She has no way of defending herself since appearing defenseless is an asset to her", "Her weapons are telepathic and magical in nature"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the relationship between the globes?", "question_unique_id": "63862_XR1KS2MX_2", "options": ["We never find out ", "There had been a misunderstanding", "They desired each other’s resources", "One wished to conquer the other"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Perat and Evelyn?", "question_unique_id": "63862_XR1KS2MX_3", "options": ["Perat was manipulative of Evelyn because he probed her true consciousness", "Evelyn was unaware of Perat’s brutality and so became smitten", "Evelyn was in love, but blind to Perat’s master plan", "Perat was trusting of Evelyn because she fooled him "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the globes crash together?", "question_unique_id": "63862_XR1KS2MX_4", "options": ["In a loss of navigation", "In a loss of thrusters", "In a kamikaze strike", "In a planned collision by the Defender"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the most likely anatomy of the inhabited spacecrafts in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63862_XR1KS2MX_5", "options": ["They are natural planets outfitted with propelling devices to move them through space", "They are meteors fitted with spaceship components", "They outwardly appear as streamlined torpedo spaceships with interior rooms containing similar plant life to Earth", "They are crafted planets made to be much like Earth with spaceship components within to propel them"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Do the Terrans ever come close to winning the battle within the story?", "question_unique_id": "63862_XR1KS2MX_6", "options": ["No, they continually lose", "They win the whole battle with less casualties", "Yes, by the surprise squadron Evelyn leads", "Yes, by Evelyn cloning soldiers into battle"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What do we know about the powers of Evelyn’s mother and father?", "question_unique_id": "63862_XR1KS2MX_7", "options": ["Her father has no special powers", "We don’t know anything about their powers", "Her mother was telepathic", "Her father was telepathic"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/6/63862//63862-h//63862-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "40965", "set_unique_id": "40965_7AWX7OE9", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Time and the Woman", "year": 1956, "author": "Dewey, G. Gordon", "topic": "Science fiction; Space travelers -- Fiction; Women -- Fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "TIME and the WOMAN\nBy Dewey, G. Gordon\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Orbit volume 1 number\n 2, 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\nHER ONLY PASSION WAS BEAUTY—BEAUTY WHICH WOULD LAST FOREVER.\n AND FOR IT—SHE'D DO ANYTHING!\n\n Ninon stretched. And purred, almost. There was something lazily catlike\n in her flexing; languid, yet ferally alert. The silken softness of her\n couch yielded to her body as she rubbed against it in sensual delight.\n There was almost the litheness of youth in her movements.\n\n\n It was true that some of her joints seemed to have a hint of stiffness\n in them, but only\nshe\nknew it. And if some of the muscles beneath her\n polished skin did not respond with quite the resilience of the youth\n they once had, only\nshe\nknew that, too.\nBut they would again\n, she\n told herself fiercely.\n\n\n She caught herself. She had let down her guard for an instant, and a\n frown had started. She banished it imperiously. Frowns—just one\n frown—could start a wrinkle! And nothing was as stubborn as a wrinkle.\n One soft, round, white, long-nailed finger touched here, and here, and\n there—the corners of her eyes, the corners of her mouth, smoothing\n them.\n\n\n Wrinkles acknowledged only one master, the bio-knife of the facial\n surgeons. But the bio-knife could not thrust deep enough to excise the\n stiffness in a joint; was not clever enough to remold the outlines of a\n figure where they were beginning to blur and—sag.\n\n\n No one else could see it—yet. But Ninon could!\n\n\n Again the frown almost came, and again she scourged it fiercely into the\n back of her mind. Time was her enemy. But she had had other enemies, and\n destroyed them, one way or another, cleverly or ruthlessly as\n circumstances demanded. Time, too, could be destroyed. Or enslaved.\n Ninon sorted through her meagre store of remembered reading. Some old\n philosopher had said, \"If you can't whip 'em, join 'em!\" Crude, but apt.\n\n\n Ninon wanted to smile. But smiles made wrinkles, too. She was content to\n feel that sureness of power in her grasp—the certain knowledge that\n she, first of all people, would turn Time on itself and destroy it. She\n would be youthful again. She would thread through the ages to come, like\n a silver needle drawing a golden filament through the layer on layer of\n the cloth of years that would engarment her eternal youth. Ninon knew\n how.\n\n\n Her shining, gray-green eyes strayed to the one door in her apartment\n through which no man had ever gone. There the exercising machines; the\n lotions; the unguents; the diets; the radioactive drugs; the records of\n endocrine transplantations, of blood transfusions. She dismissed them\n contemptuously. Toys! The mirages of a pseudo-youth. She would leave\n them here for someone else to use in masking the downhill years.\n\n\n There, on the floor beside her, was the answer she had sought so long. A\n book. \"Time in Relation to Time.\" The name of the author, his academic\n record in theoretical physics, the cautious, scientific wording of his\n postulates, meant nothing to her. The one thing that had meaning for her\n was that Time could be manipulated. And she would manipulate it. For\n Ninon!\n\n\n The door chimes tinkled intimately. Ninon glanced at her watch—Robert\n was on time. She arose from the couch, made sure that the light was\n behind her at just the right angle so he could see the outlines of her\n figure through the sheerness of her gown, then went to the door and\n opened it.\n\n\n A young man stood there. Young, handsome, strong, his eyes aglow with\n the desire he felt, Ninon knew, when he saw her. He took one quick step\n forward to clasp her in his strong young arms.\n\n\n \"Ninon, my darling,\" he whispered huskily.\n\n\n Ninon did not have to make her voice throaty any more, and that annoyed\n her too. Once she had had to do it deliberately. But now, through the\n years, it had deepened.\n\n\n \"Not yet, Robert,\" she whispered. She let him feel the slight but firm\n resistance so nicely calculated to breach his own; watched the deepening\n flush of his cheeks with the clinical sureness that a thousand such\n experiences with men had given her.\n\n\n Then, \"Come in, Robert,\" she said, moving back a step. \"I've been\n waiting for you.\"\n\n\n She noted, approvingly, that Robert was in his spaceman's uniform, ready\n for the morrow's flight, as he went past her to the couch. She pushed\n the button which closed and locked the door, then seated herself beside\n the young spaceman on the silken couch.\n\n\n His hands rested on her shoulders and he turned her until they faced\n each other.\n\n\n \"Ninon,\" he said, \"you are so beautiful. Let me look at you for a long\n time—to carry your image with me through all of time and space.\"\n\n\n Again Ninon let him feel just a hint of resistance, and risked a tiny\n pout. \"If you could just take me with you, Robert....\"\n\n\n Robert's face clouded. \"If I only could!\" he said wistfully. \"If there\n were only room. But this is an experimental flight—no more than two can\n go.\"\n\n\n Again his arms went around her and he leaned closer.\n\n\n \"Wait!\" Ninon said, pushing him back.\n\n\n \"Wait? Wait for what?\" Robert glanced at his watch. \"Time is running\n out. I have to be at the spaceport by dawn—three hours from now.\"\n\n\n Ninon said, \"But that's three hours, Robert.\"\n\n\n \"But I haven't slept yet tonight. There's been so much to do. I should\n rest a little.\"\n\n\n \"I'll be more than rest for you.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Ninon.... Oh, yes.\"\n\n\n \"Not yet, darling.\" Again her hands were between them. \"First, tell me\n about the flight tomorrow.\"\n\n\n The young spaceman's eyes were puzzled, hurt. \"But Ninon, I've told you\n before ... there is so much of you that I want to remember ... so little\n time left ... and you'll be gone when I get back....\"\n\n\n Ninon let her gray-green eyes narrow ever so slightly as she leaned away\n from him. But he blundered on.\n\n\n \"... or very old, no longer the Ninon I know ... oh, all right. But you\n know all this already. We've had space flight for years, but only\n rocket-powered, restricting us to our own system. Now we have a new kind\n of drive. Theoretically we can travel faster than light—how many times\n faster we don't know yet. I'll start finding out tomorrow, with the\n first test flight of the ship in which the new drive is installed. If it\n works, the universe is ours—we can go anywhere.\"\n\n\n \"Will it work?\" Ninon could not keep the avid greediness out of her\n voice.\n\n\n Robert said, hesitantly, \"We think it will. I'll know better by this\n time tomorrow.\"\n\n\n \"What of you—of me—. What does this mean to us—to people?\"\n\n\n Again the young spaceman hesitated. \"We ... we don't know, yet. We think\n that time won't have the same meaning to everyone....\"\n\n\n \"... When you travel faster than light. Is that it?\"\n\n\n \"Well ... yes. Something like that.\"\n\n\n \"And I'll be—old—or dead, when you get back? If you get back?\"\n\n\n Robert leaned forward and buried his face in the silvery-blonde hair\n which swept down over Ninon's shoulders.\n\n\n \"Don't say it, darling,\" he murmured.\n\n\n This time Ninon permitted herself a wrinkling smile. If she was right,\n and she knew she was, it could make no difference now. There would be no\n wrinkles—there would be only the soft flexible skin, naturally soft and\n flexible, of real youth.\n\n\n She reached behind her, over the end of the couch, and pushed three\n buttons. The light, already soft, dimmed slowly to the faintest of\n glows; a suave, perfumed dusk as precisely calculated as was the exact\n rate at which she let all resistance ebb from her body.\n\n\n Robert's voice was muffled through her hair. \"What were those clicks?\"\n he asked.\n\n\n Ninon's arms stole around his neck. \"The lights,\" she whispered, \"and a\n little automatic warning to tell you when it's time to go....\"\n\n\n The boy did not seem to remember about the third click. Ninon was not\n quite ready to tell him, yet. But she would....\nTwo hours later a golden-voiced bell chimed, softly, musically. The\n lights slowly brightened to no more than the lambent glow which was all\n that Ninon permitted. She ran her fingers through the young spaceman's\n tousled hair and shook him gently.\n\n\n \"It's time to go, Robert,\" she said.\n\n\n Robert fought back from the stubborn grasp of sleep. \"So soon?\" he\n mumbled.\n\n\n \"And I'm going with you,\" Ninon said.\n\n\n This brought him fully awake. \"I'm sorry, Ninon. You can't!\" He sat up\n and yawned, stretched, the healthy stretch of resilient youth. Then he\n reached for the jacket he had tossed over on a chair.\n\n\n Ninon watched him with envious eyes, waiting until he was fully alert.\n\n\n \"Robert!\" she said, and the youth paused at the sharpness of her voice.\n \"How old are you?\"\n\n\n \"I've told you before, darling—twenty-four.\"\n\n\n \"How old do you think I am?\"\n\n\n He gazed at her in silent curiosity for a moment, then said, \"Come to\n think of it, you've never told me. About twenty-two or -three, I'd say.\"\n\n\n \"Tomorrow is my birthday. I'll be fifty-two.\"\n\n\n He stared at her in shocked amazement. Then, as his gaze went over the\n smooth lines of her body, the amazement gave way to disbelief, and he\n chuckled. \"The way you said it, Ninon, almost had me believing you. You\n can't possibly be that old, or anywhere near it. You're joking.\"\n\n\n Ninon's voice was cold. She repeated it: \"I am fifty-two years old. I\n knew your father, before you were born.\"\n\n\n This time she could see that he believed it. The horror he felt was easy\n to read on his face while he struggled to speak. \"Then ... God help\n me ... I've been making love to ... an old woman!\" His voice was low,\n bitter, accusing.\n\n\n Ninon slapped him.\n\n\n He swayed slightly, then his features froze as the red marks of her\n fingers traced across his left cheek. At last he bowed, mockingly, and\n said, \"Your pardon, Madame. I forgot myself. My father taught me to be\n respectful to my elders.\"\n\n\n For that Ninon could have killed him. As he turned to leave, her hand\n sought the tiny, feather-light beta-gun cunningly concealed in the folds\n of her gown. But the driving force of her desire made her stay her hand.\n\n\n \"Robert!\" she said in peremptory tones.\n\n\n The youth paused at the door and glanced back, making no effort to\n conceal the loathing she had aroused in him. \"What do you want?\"\n\n\n Ninon said, \"You'll never make that flight without me.... Watch!\"\n\n\n Swiftly she pushed buttons again. The room darkened, as before. Curtains\n at one end divided and rustled back, and a glowing screen sprang to life\n on the wall revealed behind them. And there, in life and movement and\n color and sound and dimension, she—and Robert—projected themselves,\n together on the couch, beginning at the moment Ninon had pressed the\n three buttons earlier. Robert's arms were around her, his face buried in\n the hair falling over her shoulders....\n\n\n The spaceman's voice was doubly bitter in the darkened room. \"So that's\n it,\" he said. \"A recording! Another one for your collection, I suppose.\n But of what use is it to you? I have neither money nor power. I'll be\n gone from this Earth in an hour. And you'll be gone from it,\n permanently—at your age—before I get back. I have nothing to lose, and\n you have nothing to gain.\"\n\n\n Venomous with triumph, Ninon's voice was harsh even to her ears. \"On the\n contrary, my proud and impetuous young spaceman, I have much to gain,\n more than you could ever understand. When it was announced that you were\n to be trained to command this experimental flight I made it my business\n to find out everything possible about you. One other man is going. He\n too has had the same training, and could take over in your place. A\n third man has also been trained, to stand by in reserve. You are\n supposed to have rested and slept the entire night. If the Commandant of\n Space Research knew that you had not....\"\n\n\n \"I see. That's why you recorded my visit tonight. But I leave in less\n than an hour. You'd never be able to tell Commander Pritchard in time to\n make any difference, and he'd never come here to see....\"\n\n\n Ninon laughed mirthlessly, and pressed buttons again. The screen\n changed, went blank for a moment, then figures appeared again. On the\n couch were she and a man, middle-aged, dignified in appearance,\n uniformed. Blane Pritchard, Commandant of Space Research. His arms were\n around her, and his face was buried in her hair. She let the recording\n run for a moment, then shut it off and turned up the lights.\n\n\n To Robert, she said, \"I think Commander Pritchard would be here in five\n minutes if I called and told him that I have information which seriously\n affects the success of the flight.\"\n\n\n The young spaceman's face was white and stricken as he stared for long\n moments, wordless, at Ninon. Then in defeated tones he said, \"You\n scheming witch! What do you want?\"\n\n\n There was no time to gloat over her victory. That would come later.\n Right now minutes counted. She snatched up a cloak, pushed Robert out\n through the door and hurried him along the hall and out into the street\n where his car waited.\n\n\n \"We must hurry,\" she said breathlessly. \"We can get to the spaceship\n ahead of schedule, before your flight partner arrives, and be gone from\n Earth before anyone knows what is happening. I'll be with you, in his\n place.\"\n\n\n Robert did not offer to help her into the car, but got in first and\n waited until she closed the door behind her, then sped away from the\n curb and through the streets to the spaceport.\n\n\n Ninon said, \"Tell me, Robert, isn't it true that if a clock recedes from\n Earth at the speed of light, and if we could watch it as it did so, it\n would still be running but it would never show later time?\"\n\n\n The young man said gruffly, \"Roughly so, according to theory.\"\n\n\n \"And if the clock went away from Earth faster than the speed of light,\n wouldn't it run backwards?\"\n\n\n The answer was curtly cautious. \"It might appear to.\"\n\n\n \"Then if people travel at the speed of light they won't get any older?\"\n\n\n Robert flicked a curious glance at her. \"If you could watch them from\n Earth they appear not to. But it's a matter of relativity....\"\n\n\n Ninon rushed on. She had studied that book carefully. \"And if people\n travel faster than light, a lot faster, they'll grow younger, won't\n they?\"\n\n\n Robert said, \"So that's what's in your mind.\" He busied himself with\n parking the car at the spaceport, then went on: \"You want to go back in\n the past thirty years, and be a girl again. While I grow younger, too,\n into a boy, then a child, a baby, at last nothing....\"\n\n\n \"I'll try to be sorry for you, Robert.\"\n\n\n Ninon felt again for her beta-gun as he stared at her for a long minute,\n his gaze a curious mixture of amusement and pity. Then, \"Come on,\" he\n said flatly, turning to lead the way to the gleaming space ship which\n poised, towering like a spire, in the center of the blast-off basin. And\n added, \"I think I shall enjoy this trip, Madame, more than you will.\"\n\n\n The young man's words seemed to imply a secret knowledge that Ninon did\n not possess. A sudden chill of apprehension rippled through her, and\n almost she turned back. But no ... there was the ship! There was youth;\n and beauty; and the admiration of men, real admiration. Suppleness in\n her muscles and joints again. No more diets. No more transfusions. No\n more transplantations. No more the bio-knife. She could smile again, or\n frown again. And after a few years she could make the trip again ... and\n again....\nThe space ship stood on fiery tiptoes and leaped from Earth, high into\n the heavens, and out and away. Past rusted Mars. Past the busy\n asteroids. Past the sleeping giants, Jupiter and Saturn. Past pale\n Uranus and Neptune; and frigid, shivering Pluto. Past a senseless,\n flaming comet rushing inward towards its rendezvous with the Sun. And on\n out of the System into the steely blackness of space where the stars\n were hard, burnished points of light, unwinking, motionless; eyes—eyes\n staring at the ship, staring through the ports at Ninon where she lay,\n stiff and bruised and sore, in the contoured acceleration sling.\n\n\n The yammering rockets cut off, and the ship seemed to poise on the ebon\n lip of a vast Stygian abyss.\n\n\n Joints creaking, muscles protesting, Ninon pushed herself up and out of\n the sling against the artificial gravity of the ship. Robert was already\n seated at the controls.\n\n\n \"How fast are we going?\" she asked; and her voice was rusty and harsh.\n\n\n \"Barely crawling, astronomically,\" he said shortly. \"About forty-six\n thousand miles a minute.\"\n\n\n \"Is that as fast as the speed of light?\"\n\n\n \"Hardly, Madame,\" he said, with a condescending chuckle.\n\n\n \"Then make it go faster!\" she screamed. \"And faster and faster—hurry!\n What are we waiting for?\"\n\n\n The young spaceman swivelled about in his seat. He looked haggard and\n drawn from the strain of the long acceleration. Despite herself, Ninon\n could feel the sagging in her own face; the sunkenness of her eyes. She\n felt tired, hating herself for it—hating having this young man see\n her.\n\n\n He said, \"The ship is on automatic control throughout. The course is\n plotted in advance; all operations are plotted. There is nothing we can\n do but wait. The light drive will cut in at the planned time.\"\n\n\n \"Time! Wait! That's all I hear!\" Ninon shrieked. \"Do something!\"\n\n\n Then she heard it. A low moan, starting from below the limit of\n audibility, then climbing, up and up and up and up, until it was a\n nerve-plucking whine that tore into her brain like a white-hot tuning\n fork. And still it climbed, up beyond the range of hearing, and up and\n up still more, till it could no longer be felt. But Ninon, as she\n stumbled back into the acceleration sling, sick and shaken, knew it was\n still there. The light drive!\n\n\n She watched through the ports. The motionless, silent stars were moving\n now, coming toward them, faster and faster, as the ship swept out of the\n galaxy, shooting into her face like blazing pebbles from a giant\n slingshot.\n\n\n She asked, \"How fast are we going now?\"\n\n\n Robert's voice sounded far off as he replied, \"We are approaching the\n speed of light.\"\n\n\n \"Make it go faster!\" she cried. \"Faster! Faster!\"\n\n\n She looked out the ports again; looked back behind them—and saw shining\n specks of glittering blackness falling away to melt into the sootiness\n of space. She shuddered, and knew without asking that these were stars\n dropping behind at a rate greater than light speed.\n\n\n \"Now how fast are we going?\" she asked. She was sure that her voice was\n stronger; that strength was flowing back into her muscles and bones.\n\n\n \"Nearly twice light speed.\"\n\n\n \"Faster!\" she cried. \"We must go much faster! I must be young again.\n Youthful, and gay, and alive and happy.... Tell me, Robert, do you feel\n younger yet?\"\n\n\n He did not answer.\nNinon lay in the acceleration sling, gaining strength, and—she\n knew—youth. Her lost youth, coming back, to be spent all over again.\n How wonderful! No woman in all of time and history had ever done it. She\n would be immortal; forever young and lovely. She hardly noticed the\n stiffness in her joints when she got to her feet again—it was just from\n lying in the sling so long.\n\n\n She made her voice light and gay. \"Are we not going very, very fast,\n now, Robert?\"\n\n\n He answered without turning. \"Yes. Many times the speed of light.\"\n\n\n \"I knew it ... I knew it! Already I feel much younger. Don't you feel it\n too?\"\n\n\n He did not answer, and Ninon kept on talking. \"How long have we been\n going, Robert?\"\n\n\n He said, \"I don't know ... depends on where you are.\"\n\n\n \"It must be hours ... days ... weeks. I should be hungry. Yes, I think I\n am hungry. I'll need food, lots of food. Young people have good\n appetites, don't they, Robert?\"\n\n\n He pointed to the provisions locker, and she got food out and made it\n ready. But she could eat but a few mouthfuls.\nIt's the excitement\n, she\n told herself. After all, no other woman, ever, had gone back through the\n years to be young again....\nLong hours she rested in the sling, gaining more strength for the day\n when they would land back on Earth and she could step out in all the\n springy vitality of a girl of twenty. And then as she watched through\n the ingenious ports she saw the stars of the far galaxies beginning to\n wheel about through space, and she knew that the ship had reached the\n halfway point and was turning to speed back through space to Earth,\n uncounted light-years behind them—or before them. And she would still\n continue to grow younger and younger....\n\n\n She gazed at the slightly-blurred figure of the young spaceman on the\n far side of the compartment, focussing her eyes with effort. \"You are\n looking much younger, Robert,\" she said. \"Yes, I think you are becoming\n quite boyish, almost childish, in appearance.\"\n\n\n He nodded slightly. \"You may be right,\" he said.\n\n\n \"I must have a mirror,\" she cried. \"I must see for myself how much\n younger I have become. I'll hardly recognize myself....\"\n\n\n \"There is no mirror,\" he told her.\n\n\n \"No mirror? But how can I see....\"\n\n\n \"Non-essentials were not included in the supplies on this ship. Mirrors\n are not essential—to men.\"\n\n\n The mocking gravity in his voice infuriated her. \"Then you shall be my\n mirror,\" she said. \"Tell me, Robert, am I not now much younger? Am I not\n becoming more and more beautiful? Am I not in truth the most desirable\n of women?... But I forget. After all, you are only a boy, by now.\"\n\n\n He said, \"I'm afraid our scientists will have some new and interesting\n data on the effects of time in relation to time. Before long we'll begin\n to decelerate. It won't be easy or pleasant. I'll try to make you as\n comfortable as possible.\"\n\n\n Ninon felt her face go white and stiff with rage. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\n Robert said, coldly brutal, \"You're looking your age, Ninon. Every year\n of your fifty-two!\"\n\n\n Ninon snatched out the little beta-gun, then, leveled it and fired. And\n watched without remorse as the hungry electrons streamed forth to strike\n the young spaceman, turning him into a motionless, glowing figure which\n rapidly became misty and wraith-like, at last to disappear, leaving only\n a swirl of sparkling haze where he had stood. This too disappeared as\n its separate particles drifted to the metallite walls of the space ship,\n discharged their energy and ceased to sparkle, leaving only a thin film\n of dust over all.\nAfter a while Ninon got up again from the sling and made her way to the\n wall. She polished the dust away from a small area of it, trying to make\n the spot gleam enough so that she could use it for a mirror. She\n polished a long time, until at last she could see a ghostly reflection\n of her face in the rubbed spot.\n\n\n Yes, unquestionably she was younger, more beautiful. Unquestionably Time\n was being kind to her, giving her back her youth. She was not sorry that\n Robert was gone—there would be many young men, men her own age, when\n she got back to Earth. And that would be soon. She must rest more, and\n be ready.\n\n\n The light drive cut off, and the great ship slowly decelerated as it\n found its way back into the galaxy from which it had started. Found its\n way back into the System which had borne it. Ninon watched through the\n port as it slid in past the outer planets. Had they changed? No, she\n could not see that they had—only she had changed—until Saturn loomed\n up through the port, so close by, it looked, that she might touch it.\n But Saturn had no rings. Here was change. She puzzled over it a moment,\n frowning then forgot it when she recognized Jupiter again as Saturn fell\n behind. Next would be Mars....\n\n\n But what was this? Not Mars! Not any planet she knew, or had seen\n before. Yet there, ahead, was Mars! A new planet, where the asteroids\n had been when she left! Was this the same system? Had there been a\n mistake in the calculations of the scientists and engineers who had\n plotted the course of the ship? Was something wrong?\n\n\n But no matter—she was still Ninon. She was young and beautiful. And\n wherever she landed there would be excitement and rushing about as she\n told her story. And men would flock to her. Young, handsome men!\n\n\n She tottered back to the sling, sank gratefully into the comfort of it,\n closed her eyes, and waited.\nThe ship landed automatically, lowering itself to the land on a pillar\n of rushing flame, needing no help from its passenger. Then the flame\n died away—and the ship—and Ninon—rested, quietly, serenely, while the\n rocket tubes crackled and cooled. The people outside gathered at a safe\n distance from it, waiting until they could come closer and greet the\n brave passengers who had voyaged through space from no one knew where.\nThere was shouting and laughing and talking, and much speculation.\n\"The ship is from Maris, the red planet,\" someone said.\nAnd another: \"No, no! It is not of this system. See how the hull is\n pitted—it has traveled from afar.\"\nAn old man cried: \"It is a demon ship. It has come to destroy us all.\"\nA murmur went through the crowd, and some moved farther back for\n safety, watching with alert curiosity.\nThen an engineer ventured close, and said, \"The workmanship is similar\n to that in the space ship we are building, yet not the same. It is\n obviously not of our Aerth.\"\nAnd a savant said, \"Yes, not of this Aerth. But perhaps it is from a\n parallel time stream, where there is a system with planets and peoples\n like us.\"\nThen a hatch opened in the towering flank of the ship, and a ramp slid\n forth and slanted to the ground. The mingled voices of the crowd\n attended it. The fearful ones backed farther away. Some stood their\n ground. And the braver ones moved closer.\nBut no one appeared in the open hatch; no one came down the ramp. At\n last the crowd surged forward again.\nAmong them were a youth and a girl who stood, hand in hand, at the foot\n of the ramp, gazing at it and the ship with shining eyes, then at each\n other.\nShe said, \"I wonder, Robin, what it would be like to travel through far\n space on such a ship as that.\"\nHe squeezed her hand and said, \"We'll find out, Nina. Space travel will\n come, in our time, they've always said—and there is the proof of it.\"\nThe girl rested her head against the young man's shoulder. \"You'll be\n one of the first, won't you, Robin? And you'll take me with you?\"\nHe slipped an arm around her. \"Of course. You know, Nina, our\n scientists say that if one could travel faster than the speed of light\n one could live in reverse. So when we get old we'll go out in space,\n very, very fast, and we'll grow young again, together!\"\nThen a shout went up from the two men who had gone up the ramp into the\n ship to greet whoever was aboard. They came hurrying down, and Robin and\n Nina crowded forward to hear what they had to report.\nThey were puffing from the rush of their excitement. \"There is no one\n alive on the ship,\" they cried. \"Only an old, withered, white-haired\n lady, lying dead ... and alone. She must have fared long and far to have\n lived so long, to be so old in death. Space travel must be pleasant,\n indeed. It made her very happy, very, very happy—for there is a smile\n on her face.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "How did Ninon’s travel companion fare?", "question_unique_id": "40965_7AWX7OE9_1", "options": ["He died from the forces of light speed travel", "He became more youthful until a baby and then ceased to exist", "He was reduced to particles", "He landed with Ninon"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Ninon remain so youthful into her 50s on Earth?", "question_unique_id": "40965_7AWX7OE9_2", "options": ["She had access to other space technologies to keep her youthful from blackmailing the Commander", "She was not youthful on Earth", "She painstakingly disciplined herself to keep wrinkles from forming", "She had travelled at light speed once before with Robert’s dad"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Robert react to Ninon’s plan?", "question_unique_id": "40965_7AWX7OE9_3", "options": ["He was delighted to have her as a companion because he loved her", "He was shocked that she had masterminded a way onto the flight", "He was shocked to realize she had training to fly in space", "He was not surprised, as he had suspected her for some time"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How long was the spaceship in flight for in Earth years?", "question_unique_id": "40965_7AWX7OE9_4", "options": ["Unknown", "10 years", "1 year", "100 years"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Ninon think she could achieve eternal youth?", "question_unique_id": "40965_7AWX7OE9_5", "options": ["She believed one flight was enough to make her youth eternal upon returning to Earth", "She believed that returning to Earth many, many years in the future there would be technologies to make humans live forever", "Eternal youth was what she believed she would achieve in death", "Once traveling faster than light was possible, she thought she might continually do this to remain young"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Had any other civilization discussed in the story discovered space travel?", "question_unique_id": "40965_7AWX7OE9_6", "options": ["No, only Earth", "There was one other civilization that Earth knew had space travel", "Space travel was known to exist in several other galaxies", "Other spaceships were seen on the flight, suggesting yes"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Robert want to go to space?", "question_unique_id": "40965_7AWX7OE9_7", "options": ["He wanted to follow in his father’s footsteps and fly to space like him", "He needed to escape his life on Earth", "He was after eternal youth himself", "We don’t know for sure from the story"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many times did the spaceship travel faster than the speed of light during their flight?", "question_unique_id": "40965_7AWX7OE9_8", "options": ["Thrice", "They never reached this speed", "Twice", "Once"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/4/0/9/6/40965//40965-h//40965-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "32665", "set_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Anglers of Arz", "year": 1959, "author": "Aycock, Roger D.", "topic": "Science fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "The Anglers of Arz\nBy Roger Dee\nIllustrated by BOB MARTIN\n[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science\n Fiction January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence\n that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThere were two pinkish, bipedal fishermen on the tiny\n islet.\nIn order to make Izaak Walton's sport complete, there must\n be an angler, a fish, and some bait. All three existed on Arz but there\n was a question as to which was which.\nThe third night of the\nMarco Four's\nlandfall on the moonless Altarian\n planet was a repetition of the two before it, a nine-hour intermission\n of drowsy, pastoral peace. Navigator Arthur Farrell—it was his turn to\n stand watch—was sitting at an open-side port with a magnoscanner ready;\n but in spite of his vigilance he had not exposed a film when the\n inevitable pre-dawn rainbow began to shimmer over the eastern ocean.\n\n\n Sunrise brought him alert with a jerk, frowning at sight of two pinkish,\n bipedal Arzian fishermen posted on the tiny coral islet a quarter-mile\n offshore, their blank triangular faces turned stolidly toward the beach.\n\n\n \"They're at it again,\" Farrell called, and dropped to the mossy turf\n outside. \"Roll out on the double! I'm going to magnofilm this!\"\n\n\n Stryker and Gibson came out of their sleeping cubicles reluctantly,\n belting on the loose shorts which all three wore in the balmy Arzian\n climate. Stryker blinked and yawned as he let himself through the port,\n his fringe of white hair tousled and his naked paunch sweating. He\n looked, Farrell thought for the thousandth time, more like a retired\n cook than like the veteran commander of a Terran Colonies expedition.\n\n\n Gibson followed, stretching his powerfully-muscled body like a wrestler\n to throw off the effects of sleep. Gibson was linguist-ethnologist of\n the crew, a blocky man in his early thirties with thick black hair and\n heavy brows that shaded a square, humorless face.\n\n\n \"Any sign of the squids yet?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"They won't show up until the dragons come,\" Farrell said. He adjusted\n the light filter of the magnoscanner and scowled at Stryker. \"Lee, I\n wish you'd let me break up the show this time with a dis-beam. This\n butchery gets on my nerves.\"\n\n\n Stryker shielded his eyes with his hands against the glare of sun on\n water. \"You know I can't do that, Arthur. These Arzians may turn out to\n be Fifth Order beings or higher, and under Terran Regulations our\n tampering with what may be a basic culture-pattern would amount to armed\n invasion. We'll have to crack that cackle-and-grunt language of theirs\n and learn something of their mores before we can interfere.\"\n\n\n Farrell turned an irritable stare on the incurious group of Arzians\n gathering, nets and fishing spears in hand, at the edge of the\n sheltering bramble forest.\n\n\n \"What stumps me is their motivation,\" he said. \"Why do the fools go out\n to that islet every night, when they must know damned well what will\n happen next morning?\"\n\n\n Gibson answered him with an older problem, his square face puzzled. \"For\n that matter, what became of the city I saw when we came in through the\n stratosphere? It must be a tremendous thing, yet we've searched the\n entire globe in the scouter and found nothing but water and a scattering\n of little islands like this one, all covered with bramble. It wasn't a\n city these pink fishers could have built, either. The architecture was\n beyond them by a million years.\"\nStryker and Farrell traded baffled looks. The city had become something\n of a fixation with Gibson, and his dogged insistence—coupled with an\n irritating habit of being right—had worn their patience thin.\n\n\n \"There never was a city here, Gib,\" Stryker said. \"You dozed off while\n we were making planetfall, that's all.\"\n\n\n Gibson stiffened resentfully, but Farrell's voice cut his protest short.\n \"Get set! Here they come!\"\n\n\n Out of the morning rainbow dropped a swarm of winged lizards, twenty\n feet in length and a glistening chlorophyll green in the early light.\n They stooped like hawks upon the islet offshore, burying the two Arzian\n fishers instantly under their snapping, threshing bodies. Then around\n the outcrop the sea boiled whitely, churned to foam by a sudden\n uprushing of black, octopoid shapes.\n\n\n \"The squids,\" Stryker grunted. \"Right on schedule. Two seconds too late,\n as usual, to stop the slaughter.\"\n\n\n A barrage of barbed tentacles lashed out of the foam and drove into the\n melee of winged lizards. The lizards took the air at once, leaving\n behind three of their number who disappeared under the surface like\n harpooned seals. No trace remained of the two Arzian natives.\n\n\n \"A neat example of dog eat dog,\" Farrell said, snapping off the\n magnoscanner. \"Do any of those beauties look like city-builders, Gib?\"\n\n\n Chattering pink natives straggled past from the shelter of the thorn\n forest, ignoring the Earthmen, and lined the casting ledges along the\n beach to begin their day's fishing.\n\n\n \"Nothing we've seen yet could have built that city,\" Gibson said\n stubbornly. \"But it's here somewhere, and I'm going to find it. Will\n either of you be using the scouter today?\"\n\n\n Stryker threw up his hands. \"I've a mountain of data to collate, and\n Arthur is off duty after standing watch last night. Help yourself, but\n you won't find anything.\"\nThe scouter was a speeding dot on the horizon when Farrell crawled into\n his sleeping cubicle a short time later, leaving Stryker to mutter over\n his litter of notes. Sleep did not come to him at once; a vague sense of\n something overlooked prodded irritatingly at the back of his\n consciousness, but it was not until drowsiness had finally overtaken him\n that the discrepancy assumed definite form.\n\n\n He recalled then that on the first day of the\nMarco's\nplanetfall one\n of the pink fishers had fallen from a casting ledge into the water, and\n had all but drowned before his fellows pulled him out with extended\n spear-shafts. Which meant that the fishers could not swim, else some\n would surely have gone in after him.\n\n\n And the Marco's crew had explored Arz exhaustively without finding any\n slightest trace of boats or of boat landings. The train of association\n completed itself with automatic logic, almost rousing Farrell out of his\n doze.\n\n\n \"I'll be damned,\" he muttered. \"No boats, and they don't swim.\nThen how\n the devil do they get out to that islet?\n\"\n\n\n He fell asleep with the paradox unresolved.\nStryker was still humped over his records when Farrell came out of his\n cubicle and broke a packaged meal from the food locker. The visicom over\n the control board hummed softly, its screen blank on open channel.\n\n\n \"Gibson found his lost city yet?\" Farrell asked, and grinned when\n Stryker snorted.\n\n\n \"He's scouring the daylight side now,\" Stryker said. \"Arthur, I'm going\n to ground Gib tomorrow, much as I dislike giving him a direct order.\n He's got that phantom city on the brain, and he lacks the imagination to\n understand how dangerous to our assignment an obsession of that sort can\n be.\"\n\n\n Farrell shrugged. \"I'd agree with you offhand if it weren't for Gib's\n bullheaded habit of being right. I hope he finds it soon, if it's here.\n I'll probably be standing his watch until he's satisfied.\"\n\n\n Stryker looked relieved. \"Would you mind taking it tonight? I'm\n completely bushed after today's logging.\"\n\n\n Farrell waved a hand and took up his magnoscanner. It was dark outside\n already, the close, soft night of a moonless tropical world whose moist\n atmosphere absorbed even starlight. He dragged a chair to the open port\n and packed his pipe, settling himself comfortably while Stryker mixed a\n nightcap before turning in.\n\n\n Later he remembered that Stryker dissolved a tablet in his glass, but at\n the moment it meant nothing. In a matter of minutes the older man's\n snoring drifted to him, a sound faintly irritating against the velvety\n hush outside.\n\n\n Farrell lit his pipe and turned to the inconsistencies he had uncovered.\n The Arzians did not swim, and without boats....\n\n\n It occurred to him then that there had been two of the pink fishers on\n the islet each morning, and the coincidence made him sit up suddenly,\n startled. Why two? Why not three or four, or only one?\n\n\n He stepped out through the open lock and paced restlessly up and down on\n the springy turf, feeling the ocean breeze soft on his face. Three days\n of dull routine logwork had built up a need for physical action that\n chafed his temper; he was intrigued and at the same time annoyed by the\n enigmatic relation that linked the Arzian fishers to the dragons and\n squids, and his desire to understand that relation was aggravated by the\n knowledge that Arz could be a perfect world for Terran colonization.\n That is, he thought wryly, if Terran colonists could stomach the weird\n custom pursued by its natives of committing suicide in pairs.\n\n\n He went over again the improbable drama of the past three mornings, and\n found it not too unnatural until he came to the motivation and the means\n of transportation that placed the Arzians in pairs on the islet, when\n his whole fabric of speculation fell into a tangled snarl of\n inconsistencies. He gave it up finally; how could any Earthman\n rationalize the outlandish compulsions that actuated so alien a race?\n\n\n He went inside again, and the sound of Stryker's muffled snoring fanned\n his restlessness. He made his decision abruptly, laying aside the\n magnoscanner for a hand-flash and a pocket-sized audicom unit which he\n clipped to the belt of his shorts.\n\n\n He did not choose a weapon because he saw no need for one. The torch\n would show him how the natives reached the outcrop, and if he should\n need help the audicom would summon Stryker. Investigating without\n Stryker's sanction was, strictly speaking, a breach of Terran\n Regulations, but—\n\n\n \"Damn Terran Regulations,\" he muttered. \"I've got to\nknow\n.\"\n\n\n Farrell snapped on the torch at the edge of the thorn forest and entered\n briskly, eager for action now that he had begun. Just inside the edge of\n the bramble he came upon a pair of Arzians curled up together on the\n mossy ground, sleeping soundly, their triangular faces wholly blank and\n unrevealing.\n\n\n He worked deeper into the underbrush and found other sleeping couples,\n but nothing else. There were no humming insects, no twittering\n night-birds or scurrying rodents. He had worked his way close to the\n center of the island without further discovery and was on the point of\n turning back, disgusted, when something bulky and powerful seized him\n from behind.\n\n\n A sharp sting burned his shoulder, wasp-like, and a sudden overwhelming\n lassitude swept him into a darkness deeper than the Arzian night. His\n last conscious thought was not of his own danger, but of Stryker—asleep\n and unprotected behind the\nMarco's\nopen port....\nHe was standing erect when he woke, his back to the open sea and a\n prismatic glimmer of early-dawn rainbow shining on the water before him.\n For a moment he was totally disoriented; then from the corner of an eye\n he caught the pinkish blur of an Arzian fisher standing beside him, and\n cried out hoarsely in sudden panic when he tried to turn his head and\n could not.\n\n\n He was on the coral outcropping offshore, and except for the involuntary\n muscles of balance and respiration his body was paralyzed.\n\n\n The first red glow of sunrise blurred the reflected rainbow at his feet,\n but for some seconds his shuttling mind was too busy to consider the\n danger of predicament.\nWhatever brought me here anesthetized me first\n,\n he thought.\nThat sting in my shoulder was like a hypo needle.\nPanic seized him again when he remembered the green flying-lizards; more\n seconds passed before he gained control of himself, sweating with the\n effort. He had to get help. If he could switch on the audicom at his\n belt and call Stryker....\n\n\n He bent every ounce of his will toward raising his right hand, and\n failed.\n\n\n His arm was like a limb of lead, its inertia too great to budge. He\n relaxed the effort with a groan, sweating again when he saw a fiery\n half-disk of sun on the water, edges blurred and distorted by tiny\n surface ripples.\n\n\n On shore he could see the\nMarco Four\nresting between thorn forest and\n beach, its silvered sides glistening with dew. The port was still open,\n and the empty carrier rack in the bow told him that Gibson had not yet\n returned with the scouter.\n\n\n He grew aware then that sensation was returning to him slowly, that the\n cold surface of the audicom unit at his hip—unfelt before—was pressing\n against the inner curve of his elbow. He bent his will again toward\n motion; this time the arm tensed a little, enough to send hope flaring\n through him. If he could put pressure enough against the stud....\n\n\n The tiny click of its engaging sent him faint with relief.\n\n\n \"Stryker!\" he yelled. \"Lee, roll out—\nStryker\n!\"\n\n\n The audicom hummed gently, without answer.\n\n\n He gathered himself for another shout, and recalled with a chill of\n horror the tablet Stryker had mixed into his nightcap the night before.\n Worn out by his work, Stryker had made certain that he would not be\n easily disturbed.\n\n\n The flattened sun-disk on the water brightened and grew rounder. Above\n its reflected glare he caught a flicker of movement, a restless\n suggestion of flapping wings.\nHe tried again. \"Stryker, help me! I'm on the islet!\"\n\n\n The audicom crackled. The voice that answered was not Stryker's, but\n Gibson's.\n\n\n \"Farrell! What the devil are you doing on that butcher's block?\"\n\n\n Farrell fought down an insane desire to laugh. \"Never mind that—get\n here fast, Gib! The flying-lizards—\"\n\n\n He broke off, seeing for the first time the octopods that ringed the\n outcrop just under the surface of the water, waiting with barbed\n tentacles spread and yellow eyes studying him glassily. He heard the\n unmistakable flapping of wings behind and above him then, and thought\n with shock-born lucidity:\nI wanted a backstage look at this show, and\n now I'm one of the cast\n.\n\n\n The scouter roared in from the west across the thorn forest, flashing so\n close above his head that he felt the wind of its passage. Almost\n instantly he heard the shrilling blast of its emergency bow jets as\n Gibson met the lizard swarm head on.\n\n\n Gibson's voice came tinnily from the audicom. \"Scattered them for the\n moment, Arthur—blinded the whole crew with the exhaust, I think. Stand\n fast, now. I'm going to pick you up.\"\n\n\n The scouter settled on the outcrop beside Farrell, so close that the hot\n wash of its exhaust gases scorched his bare legs. Gibson put out thick\n brown arms and hauled him inside like a straw man, ignoring the native.\n The scouter darted for shore with Farrell lying across Gibson's knees in\n the cockpit, his head hanging half overside.\n\n\n Farrell had a last dizzy glimpse of the islet against the rush of green\n water below, and felt his shaky laugh of relief stick in his throat. Two\n of the octopods were swimming strongly for shore, holding the rigid\n Arzian native carefully above water between them.\n\n\n \"Gib,\" Farrell croaked. \"Gib, can you risk a look back? I think I've\n gone mad.\"\n\n\n The scouter swerved briefly as Gibson looked back. \"You're all right,\n Arthur. Just hang on tight. I'll explain everything when we get you safe\n in the\nMarco\n.\"\n\n\n Farrell forced himself to relax, more relieved than alarmed by the\n painful pricking of returning sensation. \"I might have known it, damn\n you,\" he said. \"You found your lost city, didn't you?\"\n\n\n Gibson sounded a little disgusted, as if he were still angry with\n himself over some private stupidity. \"I'd have found it sooner if I'd\n had any brains. It was under water, of course.\"\nIn the\nMarco Four\n, Gibson routed Stryker out of his cubicle and mixed\n drinks around, leaving Farrell comfortably relaxed in the padded control\n chair. The paralysis was still wearing off slowly, easing Farrell's fear\n of being permanently disabled.\n\n\n \"We never saw the city from the scouter because we didn't go high\n enough,\" Gibson said. \"I realized that finally, remembering how they\n used high-altitude blimps during the First Wars to spot submarines, and\n when I took the scouter up far enough there it was, at the ocean\n bottom—a city to compare with anything men ever built.\"\n\n\n Stryker stared. \"A marine city? What use would sea-creatures have for\n buildings?\"\n\n\n \"None,\" Gibson said. \"I think the city must have been built ages ago—by\n men or by a manlike race, judging from the architecture—and was\n submerged later by a sinking of land masses that killed off the original\n builders and left Arz nothing but an oversized archipelago. The squids\n took over then, and from all appearances they've developed a culture of\n their own.\"\n\n\n \"I don't see it,\" Stryker complained, shaking his head. \"The pink\n fishers—\"\n\n\n \"Are cattle, or less,\" Gibson finished. \"The octopods are the dominant\n race, and they're so far above Fifth Order that we're completely out of\n bounds here. Under Terran Regulations we can't colonize Arz. It would be\n armed invasion.\"\n\n\n \"Invasion of a squid world?\" Farrell protested, baffled. \"Why should\n surface colonization conflict with an undersea culture, Gib? Why\n couldn't we share the planet?\"\n\n\n \"Because the octopods own the islands too, and keep them policed,\"\n Gibson said patiently. \"They even own the pink fishers. It was one of\n the squid-people, making a dry-land canvass of his preserve here to pick\n a couple of victims for this morning's show, that carried you off last\n night.\"\n\n\n \"Behold a familiar pattern shaping up,\" Stryker said. He laughed\n suddenly, a great irrepressible bellow of sound. \"Arz is a squid's\n world, Arthur, don't you see? And like most civilized peoples, they're\n sportsmen. The flying-lizards are the game they hunt, and they raise the\n pink fishers for—\"\n\n\n Farrell swore in astonishment. \"Then those poor devils are put out there\n deliberately, like worms on a hook—angling in reverse! No wonder I\n couldn't spot their motivation!\"\n\n\n Gibson got up and sealed the port, shutting out the soft morning breeze.\n \"Colonization being out of the question, we may as well move on before\n the octopods get curious enough about us to make trouble. Do you feel up\n to the acceleration, Arthur?\"\n\n\n Farrell and Stryker looked at each other, grinning. Farrell said: \"You\n don't think I want to stick here and be used for bait again, do you?\"\n\n\n He and Stryker were still grinning over it when Gibson, unamused,\n blasted the\nMarco Four\nfree of Arz.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What likely happened to the squid once the Marco departed?", "question_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z_1", "options": ["There was no change", "One of them was in the hold of the Marco", "They went to war with the pink anglers", "They stopped associating with the pink anglers"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What makes the fisherpeople of Arz most like bait?", "question_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z_2", "options": ["They are defenseless", "They are the color of beetle bait", "They are used to lure larger prey", "They appear lifeless"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the city get to be underwater?", "question_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z_3", "options": ["Humans built it underwater", "The squid built it underwater", "Sea level rose up over it", "It was built on land then sank"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do the characters know when the winged lizards will appear?", "question_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z_4", "options": ["The winged lizards are unpredictable", "They appear at daybreak every morning", "They make screeching sounds as they fly", "They only appear when the sun is setting"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who is the oldest character?", "question_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z_5", "options": ["Farrell", "Stryker", "Pink anglers", "Gibson"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between the pink anglers and the squid?", "question_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z_6", "options": ["The pink anglers revered the squid", "The squid collected pink anglers", "The pink anglers tamed the squid", "The squid farmed pink anglers"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was Farrell discouraged from interfering with the angers and squid?", "question_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z_7", "options": ["There were rules that prohibited interfering with their culture", "His fellow crew would leave him if he did", "The squid had nearly eaten him in the past", "The anglers threatened him"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the squid always appear a little bit too late to save the anglers?", "question_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z_8", "options": ["The anglers were not useful to the squid", "The anglers were being punished\n", "The anglers were not the squid's primary interest", "The squid were a nearly defeated colony that didn’t have enough members to save every angler"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What likely happened to the pink anglers once the Marco departed?", "question_unique_id": "32665_BFH6JK2Z_9", "options": ["They went on to challenge the squid", "There was no change", "They developed space travel", "They took over the planet"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/2/6/6/32665//32665-h//32665-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "55815", "set_unique_id": "55815_ZJPKF6YE", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Peggy Plays Off-Broadway", "year": 1965, "author": "Hughes, Virginia", "topic": "Professions -- Juvenile fiction; Women dramatists -- Juvenile fiction; Women in the theater -- United States -- Juvenile fiction; PZ; Actresses -- Juvenile fiction; Mystery and detective stories; Lane, Peggy (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction; Actresses -- United States -- Juvenile fiction; Acting -- Juvenile fiction", "article": "PEGGY PLAYS OFF-BROADWAY\nI\n\n Cast Call\n“First casting calls are so difficult,” Peggy Lane\n said, looking ruefully at the fifty or more actresses\n and actors who milled about nervously, chatting with\n one another, or sat on the few folding chairs trying\n to read.\n\n\n “With only nine roles to be filled,” she continued,\n “it doesn’t matter how good these people are; most\n of them just haven’t got a chance. I can’t help feeling\n sorry for them—for all of us, I mean. After all, I’m\n trying for a part, too.”\n\n\n Peggy’s friend and housemate, Amy Preston,\n smiled in agreement and said, “It’s not an easy business,\n honey, is it? But the ones I feel sorriest for\n right now are Mal and Randy. After all, they have\n the unpleasant job of choosing and refusing, and a\n lot of these folks are their friends. I wouldn’t want\n to be in their shoes.”\n\n2\n\n Peggy nodded thoughtfully, and reflected that it\n must, indeed, be more wearing on the boys. Mallory\n Seton, director of the new play, had been an upper-class\n student at the Academy when Peggy had\n started there, and he was a good friend of hers. She\n had worked with him before, as a general assistant,\n when they had discovered a theater. It would not be\n easy for him to consider Peggy for an acting role, and\n to do so completely without bias. It would not be a\n question of playing favorites, Peggy knew, but quite\n the reverse. Mal’s sense of fair play would make him\n bend over backward to keep from giving favors to\n his friends. If she was to get a role in this new production,\n she would really have to work for it.\n\n\n And if it was difficult for Mal, she thought, it was\n more so for Randy Brewster, the author of the play,\n for her friendship with him was of a different sort\n than with Mal. Mal was just a friend—a good one,\n to be sure—but with Randy Brewster, somehow,\n things were different. There was nothing “serious,”\n she assured herself, but they had gone on dates together\n with a regularity that was a little more than\n casual and, whatever his feelings were for her, she\n was sure that they were more complicated than\n Mal’s.\n\n\n “Do you think they’ll ever get through all these\n people?” Amy asked, interrupting her thoughts.\n “How can they hope to hear so many actors read for\n them in just one afternoon?”\n\n\n “Oh, they won’t be doing readings today,” Peggy\n replied, glad to turn her attention from what was becoming\n a difficult subject for thought. “This is just a\n first cast call. All they want to do today is pick people\n for type. They’ll select all the possible ones, send\n the impossible ones away, and then go into elimination\n readings later.”\n\n3\n\n “But what if the people they pick for looks can’t\n act?” Amy asked. “And what if some of the rejects\n are wonderful actors?”\n\n\n “They won’t go back to the rejects,” Peggy explained,\n “because they both have a pretty good idea\n of what the characters in the play should look like.\n And if the people they pick aren’t good enough actors,\n then they hold another cast call and try again.\n Mal says that sometimes certain parts are so hard to\n cast that they have to go through a dozen calls just\n to find one actor.”\n\n\n “It seems kind of unfair, doesn’t it, to be eliminated\n just because you’re not the right physical\n type,” Amy said, “but I can understand it. They have\n to start somewhere, and I guess that’s as good a place\n as any.” Then she smiled and added, “I guess I’m\n just feeling sorry for myself, because Mal told me\n there was no sense in my trying out at all, because I\n didn’t look or sound right for any part in the play. If\n I don’t get rid of this Southern accent of mine, I\n may never get a part at all, except in a Tennessee\n Williams play!”\n\n\n Peggy nodded sympathetically. “But it wasn’t just\n your accent, Amy,” she said. “It’s your looks, too. At\n least for this play. Mal and Randy told you that\n you’re just too pretty for any of the parts that fit\n your age, and that’s nothing to feel bad about. If\n anybody ought to feel insulted, it’s me, because\n they asked me to try out!”\n\n4\n\n “Oh, they were just sweet-talking me,” Amy replied.\n “And as for you, you know you don’t have to\n worry about your looks. You have a wonderful face!\n You can look beautiful, or comic, or pathetic, or\n cute or anything. I’m stuck with just being a South’n\n Belle, blond and helpless, po’ li’l ol’ me, lookin’ sad\n and sweet through those ol’ magnolia blossoms!”\n She broadened her slight, soft accent until it sounded\n like something you could spread on hot cornbread,\n and both girls broke into laughter that sounded odd\n in the strained atmosphere of the bare rehearsal\n studio.\n\n\n It was at this point that Mal and Randy came in,\n with pleasant, if somewhat brisk, nods to the assembled\n actors and actresses, and a special smile for\n Amy and Peggy. In a businesslike manner, they settled\n themselves at a table near the windows, spread\n out scripts and pads and pencils, and prepared for\n the chore that faced them. Amy, who was there to\n help the boys by acting as secretary for the occasion,\n wished Peggy good luck, and joined the boys at the\n table. Her job was to take names and addresses, and\n to jot down any facts about each actor that Randy\n and Mal wanted to be sure to remember.\n\n\n Mal started the proceedings by introducing himself\n and Randy. Then, estimating the crowd, he said,\n “Since there are fewer men here, and also fewer male\n roles to cast, we’re going to do them first. I hope that\n you ladies won’t mind. We won’t keep you waiting\n long, but if we worked with you first, we’d have these\n gentlemen waiting most of the day. Shall we get\n started?” After a brief glance at his notes, he called\n out, “First, I’d like to see businessman types, young\n forties. How many have we?”\n\n5\n\n Four men separated themselves from the crowd\n and approached the table. Peggy watched with interest\n as Mal and Randy looked them over, murmured\n to Amy to take notes, and asked questions.\n After a few minutes, the men left, two of them looking\n happy, two resigned. Then Mal stood and called\n for leading man types, late twenties or early thirties,\n tall and athletic. As six tall, athletic, handsome\n young men came forward, Peggy felt that she just\n couldn’t stand watching the casting interviews any\n longer. It reminded her too much of the livestock\n shows she had attended as a youngster in her home\n town of Rockport, Wisconsin. Necessary though it\n was, she felt it was hardly a way to have to deal\n with human beings.\n\n\n Slipping back through the crowd of waiting actors,\n she joined the actresses in the rear of the room, and\n found an empty seat next to a young girl.\n\n\n “Hi,” she said. “What’s the matter, can’t you watch\n it either?”\n\n\n The girl smiled in understanding. “It always upsets\n me,” she replied, “but it’s something we simply\n have to learn to live with. At least until we get well-known,\n or get agents to do this sort of thing for us.”\n\n\n “It sounds as if you’ve been in a few of these before,”\n Peggy said.\n\n\n “I have. But not here in the East,” the girl replied.\n “I’m from California, and I’ve been in a few little-theater\n things there, but nobody seems to pay much\n attention to them. I heard that off-Broadway theater\n in New York attracts a lot of critics, and I thought\n that I’d do better here. Have you had any luck?”\n\n\n “Oh, I’m just beginning,” Peggy said. “I’m still\n studying at the New York Dramatic Academy. I hope\n I can get some kind of supporting role in this play,\n but I don’t think I’m ready for anything big yet. By\n the way, my name is Peggy Lane. What’s yours?”\n\n6\n\n “I’m Paula Andrews,” the girl answered, “and\n maybe I’m shooting too high, but I’m trying out for\n the female lead. I hope I have a chance for it.”\n\n\n Peggy looked carefully at her new friend, at the\n somewhat uncertain smile that played about her\n well-formed, generous mouth and the intelligence\n that shone from her large, widely placed green eyes.\n Her rather long face was saved from severity by a\n soft halo of red-brown hair, the whole effect being an\n appealing combination of strength and feminine softness.\n\n\n “I think you do have a chance,” Peggy said. “In\n fact, if you can act, I bet you’ll get the part. I’ve read\n the play, and I know the author and director, and\n unless I’m way off, you look just the way the lead\n should look. In fact, it’s almost uncanny. You look as\n if you just walked out of the script!”\n\n\n “Oh, I hope you’re right!” Paula said with animation.\n “And I hope you get a part, too. I have a feeling\n that you’re going to bring me good luck!”\n\n\n “The one who needs luck is me, I’m afraid,” Peggy\n said. “Being friendly with Randy and Mal isn’t going\n to help me in the least, and I’m going to have to be\n awfully good to get the part. And it’s really important\n to me, too, because I’m getting near the end of\n my trial year.”\n\n\n “Trial year?” Paula asked curiously.\n\n7\n\n “Uh-huh. My parents agreed to let me come to\n New York to study acting and try for parts for a year,\n and I agreed that if I didn’t show signs of success\n before the year was up, I’d come home and go back\n to college. I’ve been here for eight months now, and\n I haven’t got anything to show my parents yet. The\n part I’m trying for now isn’t a big one, but it’s a good\n supporting role, and what’s more, we get paid. If I\n can show my mother and father that I can earn some\n money by acting, I’m sure that they’ll let me go on\n trying.”\n\n\n “But do you expect to make enough to live on right\n away?” Paula asked.\n\n\n “Oh, no! I’m not that naïve! But when my year is\n over at the Academy, I can always take a job as a\n typist or a secretary somewhere, while I look for\n parts. If you can type and take shorthand, you never\n have to worry about making a living.”\n\n\n “I wish that I could do those things,” Paula said\n wistfully. “The only way I’ve been able to make ends\n meet is by working in department stores as a salesgirl,\n and that doesn’t pay much. Besides, the work is\n so unsteady.”\n\n\n “My parents are very practical people,” Peggy said\n with a smile, “and they made sure that I learned\n routine office skills before they would let me think\n about other and more glamorous kinds of careers.\n Daddy owns the newspaper in our small town in\n Wisconsin, and I’ve worked with him as a typist and\n a reporter of sorts and as a proofreader, too. I’ll always\n be grateful that he made me learn all those\n things. I don’t think he has much faith in the acting\n business, but he’s been wonderful about giving me a\n chance. What do your parents think of your wanting\n to be an actress?”\n\n\n Instead of answering, Paula suddenly stood up.\n “Let’s go see how they’re coming with the actors,” she\n said. “I think they’re almost finished.”\n\n8\n\n Not wanting to press Paula further, and feeling\n that perhaps she had asked too personal a question\n on such short acquaintance, Peggy reluctantly stood\n too, and joined Paula to watch the last of what she\n now could only think of as the livestock show.\n\n\n As she drew closer to the table, she heard Mal saying,\n “I’m really sorry, Mr. Lang, but you’re just not\n the right type for the role. Perhaps some other....”\n and his voice trailed off in embarrassment.\n\n\n Lang, a short, thin, unhappy young man, answered\n almost tearfully, “But, Mr. Seton, looks aren’t everything.\n I’m really a funny comedian. Honestly! If you\n would only give me a chance to read for you, I know\n that I could make you change your mind about the\n way this character should look!”\n\n\n “I don’t doubt that you could,” Mal said gently,\n “but if you did, the play would suffer. I’m afraid the\n comedian we need for this must be a large, rather\n bluff-looking person, like these three gentlemen\n whom I have chosen to hear. The part calls for it.\n I’m sorry.”\n\n\n Mr. Lang nodded sadly, mumbled, “I understand,”\n and walked off, his head hanging and his\n hands thrust deep in his pockets, looking less like a\n comedian than any man in the world. Peggy\n watched him go, not knowing whether to feel sorrier\n for him or for Mal.\n\n\n “All right, gentlemen,” Mal called out. “That takes\n care of the male roles. All of you who are left will be\n given copies of the play to study, marked at the passages\n I want to hear. Be sure to read the whole play\n carefully, so that you understand the workings of the\n characters you have been selected to read. You have\n three days to look it over. We’ll meet at ten o’clock\n on Saturday morning at the Penthouse Theater to\n hear you. Thank you. And now for the ladies.”\n\n9\n\n The men left, after being given their scripts, and\n though they chatted amiably with one another,\n Peggy was sure that each was casting rather hostile\n looks toward others who were trying for the same\n parts. Keeping friendships in the theater was not an\n easy thing, she thought, particularly for people of\n similar physical types!\n\n\n Mal’s first concern in reviewing the actresses was,\n of course, for the leading role. And, of course, it was\n for this role that he had the most applicants. More\n than twenty girls came forward when the announcement\n was made, and Peggy thought that she had\n never seen so many striking and beautiful faces and\n figures. It was not going to be easy for Mal to make a\n choice. As Paula, her new friend, went forward to\n join the others, Peggy whispered a word of encouragement,\n then stood to one side to watch.\n\n\n Mal went down the line, regretfully dismissing one\n after the other of the girls, and occasionally asking\n one to step aside to try for another role. His tough-looking\n expression hardly varied as he spoke to each\n one, but Peggy thought she saw the ghost of a smile\n cross his face when he spoke to Paula Andrews. Another\n review of the remaining girls eliminated a few\n more. Finally, there were only four left, Paula\n among them. Mal thanked them, distributed scripts,\n and asked them to be at the Penthouse Theater on\n Saturday at noon.\n\n\n Paula returned to Peggy with eyes shining. “Oh,\n Peggy! I think you were right! I just know I’m going\n to get the part! I know it!”\n\n10\n\n “Don’t count too much on it,” Peggy cautioned,\n “or you may be too bitterly disappointed if you don’t\n get it. But,” she added, enthusiastically violating her\n own rule of caution, “I’m sure, too! I’ll see you Saturday.\n Even if I don’t get a script, I’ll be there just to\n hear you read!”\n\n\n Then, with a smile of farewell, Peggy turned her\n attention to the “career woman, early thirties” classification\n that Mal had called for next. Once that\n was out of the way, she knew it would be her turn.\n\n\n This time, there were not so many applicants and\n Peggy remembered Randy telling her that this\n would be one of their most difficult roles to cast.\n Only four actresses came forward, and Mal, with\n difficulty, reviewed them all. Unable to eliminate by\n type, he gave them all scripts and asked them to\n come to the theater. Then he called for “character\n ingénues” and Peggy joined seven other girls in the\n “livestock show.”\n\n\n Mal reviewed them carefully, managing to look at\n Peggy with complete lack of recognition. He gently\n eliminated three of them on the basis of hair coloring,\n height or general type. Another, curiously\n enough, was eliminated, like Amy, for a Southern accent,\n and a fifth, also like Amy, was too beautiful.\n “The part calls for a pretty girl,” Mal said with a rare\n smile, “but not for a girl so pretty that she’ll dominate\n the stage! It was a pleasure to look at you, but I’m\n afraid you’re not quite right for the part.”\n\n\n When he was done, Peggy and two others were\n given scripts and told to come to the theater on Saturday.\n Feeling lightheaded and giddy, Peggy settled\n herself on one of the folding chairs that lined\n the back wall, and waited for Mal, Randy, and Amy\n to finish so she could join them for coffee.\n\n11\n\n Scarcely noticing the rest of the proceedings, she\n thought only about the coming readings. She was\n so familiar with the play that she knew she had an\n advantage, perhaps unfairly, over the other two girls.\n She had watched the script grow from its first rough\n draft to the finished text now in her hands, and had\n discussed it with Randy through each revision. She\n knew she could play the part; in fact, she suspected\n secretly that Randy had written it for her, and the\n thought made her blush. Still, it would not be easy,\n she knew. Mal’s sense of fairness and his absolute\n devotion to the play above everything else would\n keep him from making up his mind in advance.\n\n\n But despite this knowledge, she could not help\n looking ahead—all the way ahead—to the restless\n stir of the opening-night audience out front, the last-minute\n preparations backstage, the bright, hot lights\n and the smell of make-up and scenery paint as she\n waited to go on in Act One, Scene One of\nCome\n Closer\n, Randy Brewster’s brilliant new play in which\n Peggy Lane would be discovered!\n\n12\nII\n\n The Hopefuls\nThe audience consisted of a handful of actors and\n actresses, and Randy Brewster and Mallory Seton.\n The stage lighting was a cold splash produced by two\n floodlights without color gels to soften them. The\n scenery was the brick back wall of the stage, two\n ladders, a table and two straight-backed chairs. Only\n the front row of house lights was on, and the back of\n the theater was dark, empty and gloomy, a shadowy\n wasteland of empty rows of seats like tombstones.\n\n\n On the stage, a “businessman type” was reading\n his lines. Peggy knew, after the first few words, that\n he would not do. He had somehow completely\n missed the character of the man he was portraying,\n and was heavily overplaying. Mal, being perhaps\n more patient than Peggy, listened and watched\n with great care. Amy, who was acting as Mal’s assistant\n for the production, sat in a chair by the proscenium,\n reading her script by the light of a small\n lamp and feeding the actor cue lines. Mal followed\n the whole sequence with no visible sign of impatience\n and, when the actor was through, said,\n “Thank you. We’ll let you know our decision in a day\n or two.”\n\n13\n\n The next “businessman type” was better, but still\n not quite on target, Peggy thought. He seemed to be\n playing the part for laughs, and although there were\n some comic values to be extracted from the role, it\n was really far more a straight dramatic character.\n Still, he was clearly a better actor than the first,\n and with direction might do well.\n\n\n Following his reading, Mal again repeated his\n polite, invariable formula, “Thank you. We’ll let you\n know our decision in a day or two,” and called for\n the next reading.\n\n\n Peggy watched the remaining actors try for the\n role, and made mental notes of which ones were possible,\n which probable, and which stood no chance at\n all.\n\n\n The same process was then followed for the leading\n men, and the same wide range of talent and understanding\n of the part was displayed. Some seemed\n to have no idea at all about the play or its meaning,\n and Peggy was sure that these men had read only\n the parts marked for them. Others had a clear understanding\n of the kind of character they were playing,\n and tried to create him in the brief time they had on\n stage. Others still were actors who had one rather\n inflexible way of playing, and used it for all kinds of\n parts. Their performances were uniform imitations of\n each other, and all were imitations of the early acting\n style of Marlon Brando. They seemed to forget,\n Peggy thought, that Brando’s style developed\n from the roles he had to play, and that as he got\n other roles, he showed other facets of a rounded talent.\n It made her angry that some actors thought\n they could get ahead in a creative field by being\n imitative.\n\n14\n\n Each actor, no matter how good or how bad, was\n treated with impersonal courtesy by Mal, and each\n left looking sure that the part was his. Peggy was\n glad that she would not have to see their faces when\n they learned that they had not been selected.\n\n\n “The pity of it,” she whispered to Randy, “isn’t\n that there are so many bad ones, but that there are\n so many good ones, and that only one can be selected\n for each role. I wish there were some way of telling\n the good ones you can’t take that they were really\n good, but that you just couldn’t take everyone!”\n\n\n “You can’t let yourself worry about that,” Randy\n replied. “The good ones know they’re good, and\n they’re not going to be discouraged by the loss of a\n role. And the bad ones think they’re good, too, and\n most of them have tremendous egos to protect\n them from ever finding out—or even thinking—otherwise!”\n\n\n The door at the back of the theater opened quietly,\n and Peggy, turning around in her seat, saw a few of\n the actresses entering. They quietly found seats in\n the rear and settled down to await their turn.\n\n\n “I think I’ll go back there with the girls,” Peggy\n whispered. “I’m looking for a girl I met at the casting\n call, and I’d like to chat with her for a few minutes\n when she comes. Do you mind if I don’t look at all\n this?”\n\n\n Randy grinned. “Go ahead. I’d get out of here,\n too, if I could without getting Mal mad at me. This\n kind of thing always breaks my heart, too!”\n\n15\n\n As she went up the aisle as unobtrusively as possible,\n Peggy glanced at the actresses who had just\n come in. She recognized a few of their faces from\n the casting call of three days ago, but did not see her\n new friend among them. She decided to go out to the\n lobby to wait for her there. A new group of girls\n entered the theater as Peggy was leaving and, as she\n passed, one reached out and grabbed her arm.\n\n\n Peggy turned in surprise to find herself greeted\n with a broad grin and a quick companionable kiss.\n\n\n “Greta!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”\n\n\n “Come on out to the lobby, and I’ll tell you,” Greta\n Larsen said, with a toss of her head that made her\n thick blond braid spin around and settle over her\n shoulder.\n\n\n “But I thought you were in New Haven, getting\n ready to open\nOver the Hill\n,” Peggy said, when they\n had reached the lobby. “What on earth are you doing\n here?”\n\n\n “I’m afraid you don’t read your\nVariety\nvery carefully,”\n Greta said. “\nOver the Hill\nopened in New\n Haven to such bad notices that the producer decided\n to close out of town. At first we thought he’d\n call in a play doctor to try to fix things up, but he\n finally decided, and very sensibly, that it would be\n easier to just throw the whole thing out. I’m afraid\n he lost a lot of money, and he didn’t have any more\n left.”\n\n\n “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Peggy said. “And it was a real\n chance for you, wasn’t it?”\n\n16\n\n “Not really,” Greta said. “The part wasn’t too\n good, and I’d just as soon not be in a disaster. Anyway,\n it gave me a chance to work for a few weeks,\n and an agent saw me and said he thought I was\n good, so maybe I’m not any the worse for the experience.”\n\n\n At that moment, Peggy saw Paula Andrews enter\n the lobby, and she motioned to her to join them.\n “Greta, this is Paula Andrews. She’s reading for the\n lead today, and I hope she gets it. Paula, I want you\n to meet Greta Larsen, one of my housemates.”\n\n\n “Housemates?” Paula questioned, a little puzzled.\n\n\n “Yes. There are about a dozen of us, more or less.\n We live in a place called the Gramercy Arms—a\n wonderful place—and we live like one big noisy family.\n The Arms is run just for young actresses, so we\n all have a lot in common. I haven’t seen Greta for\n weeks—she’s been out of town with a play—and I’m\n just getting over being stunned at seeing her now.”\n\n\n “Peggy tactfully neglected to mention that the\n play flopped,” Greta laughed, “and now I’m back in\n town without a job. In fact, that’s why I’m here.”\n\n\n “You mean you’re going to read for Mal?” Peggy\n asked excitedly.\n\n\n “Uh-huh. I met him on the street an hour or so\n ago, and he told me he had a part he thought I should\n try out for, and that he was thinking of me for it all\n along, but assumed that I wouldn’t be available.\n Well, you can’t be more available than I am, so here\n I am!”\n\n\n “Have you read the play?” Paula asked.\n\n\n “I’m lucky there,” Greta replied. “I’ve seen it\n in three different drafts since it started. Peggy’s\n friendly with Randy Brewster, the boy who wrote it,\n and each time she brought a draft home, I got to\n read it. So I’m not at a disadvantage.”\n\n17\n\n “What do you think of\nCome Closer\n, Paula?” asked\n Peggy.\n\n\n “I think it’s wonderful! I hope more than ever that\n I get the part! Do you really think I have a chance?”\n\n\n Greta nodded decisively. “If you can act, you’re\n made for it,” she said.\n\n\n “That’s just what Peggy said!”\n\n\n Peggy stole a glance through the doors to the theater.\n “I think we’re about ready to find out whether or\n not you can act,” she said. “They seem to be about\n through with the actors, and that means you’re on\n next!”\n\n\n Wishing each other good luck, they entered the\n darkened part of the house and prepared for what\n Peggy could only think of as their ordeal.\nAfterward, as Peggy, Amy, Paula, and Greta sat at\n a table in a nearby coffeehouse waiting for Mal and\n Randy to join them, each was sure that she had been\n terrible.\n\n\n “Oh, no!” Peggy said. “You two were just marvelous!\n But I couldn’t have been worse. I know I read\n the part wrong. I thought I had the character clear in\n my mind, but I’m sure that the way it came out was a\n mile off!”\n\n\n “You have a lot more talent than judgment,” Greta\n said mournfully. “You were perfect. And so was\n Paula. As for me....” Her voice trailed off in despair.\n\n\n “I don’t know how you can say that, Greta,” Paula\n put in. “I know you were the best in your part, and\n nobody even came close to Peggy. But I’ve never\n felt so off in my life as I did reading that part. It’s a\n wonder any of you even want to be seen with me!”\n\n18\n\n Only when Amy started to laugh did the three\n others realize how much alike they had sounded.\n Then they joined in the laughter and couldn’t seem\n to stop. When they seemed at the point of dissolving\n helplessly into a permanent attack of the giggles,\n Randy and Mal joined them.\n\n\n “If you’re laughing at the play,” Randy said\n gloomily, “I can hardly blame you. You never know\n just how badly you’ve written until someone gets up\n and starts to read your lines.”\n\n\n All at the same time, the girls started to reassure\n him and tell him how good the play was, and how\n badly the actors, including themselves, had handled\n the lines, but this was so much like their last exchange\n of conversation that once more they broke up\n in helpless laughter.\n\n\n When they got their breath back, and when coffee\n and pastry had been ordered, they tried to explain\n the cause of their hilarity to the boys.\n\n\n “... so, you see,” Peggy concluded, “we were\n each explaining how good the others were and how\n bad we were, and when Randy started telling us how\n bad he had been as a writer, we just couldn’t stand\n it!”\n\n\n It was Mal who got them back to sane ground.\n With his tough face, like a movie gangster’s or private\n detective’s, and his gentle, cultured English voice and\n assured manner, he calmly gave his opinion of the\n afternoon’s auditions.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How did the auditioners know what to read on Saturday?", "question_unique_id": "55815_ZJPKF6YE_1", "options": ["Peggy selected passages from the earlier drafts of the play for auditioners", "Amy assigned passages based on personalities of the auditioners", "Mal selected passages for each auditioner", "Randy randomly assigned passages to test the depth of acting"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the storyline of Come Closer?", "question_unique_id": "55815_ZJPKF6YE_2", "options": ["A newspaper director hires a young reporter who is the best they have ever seen", "Unknown", "The male lead tries to gain the love of a career woman", "A career woman takes others under her wing to learn the ropes of the printing industry"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which characters don’t like to watch the auditions?", "question_unique_id": "55815_ZJPKF6YE_3", "options": ["Peggy, Randy, Paula", "Mal, Randy, Amy", "Mal, Peggy, Paula", "Greta, Paula, Peggy"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the story teach the reader about their process of casting?", "question_unique_id": "55815_ZJPKF6YE_4", "options": ["Acting ability is most important before looks", "Finding someone with comedic talent is a high priority", "The look of the person is most important before acting ability", "Have the people audition reading the same passage and then assign their roles by personality"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What role does Greta audition for?", "question_unique_id": "55815_ZJPKF6YE_5", "options": ["Career woman", "Lead female\n", "Director", "Unknown"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Randy’s role during the auditions?", "question_unique_id": "55815_ZJPKF6YE_6", "options": ["He is not required at auditions", "Quiet observer", "He coaches the folks auditioning prior to going on", "Cues up the lines for the auditions"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Peggy and Paula?", "question_unique_id": "55815_ZJPKF6YE_7", "options": ["Amicable acquaintances", "Old friends", "Competitive actors", "Housemates"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/5/8/1/55815//55815-h//55815-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "63812", "set_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Grandma Perkins and the Space Pirates", "year": 1965, "author": "McConnell, James V.", "topic": "Older women -- Fiction; PS; Space ships -- Fiction; Pirates -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "GRANDMA PERKINS AND THE SPACE PIRATES\nBy JAMES McCONNELL\nRaven-haired, seductive Darling Toujours'\n \nsmoke-and-flame eyes kindled sparks in hearts\n \nall over the universe. But it took sweet old\n \nGrandma Perkins, of the pirate ship\nDirty\n\n Shame,\nto set the Jupiter moons on fire\n.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories March 1954.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"I can always get along with a man if he remembers who he is,\" said\n Darling Toujours, the raven-haired, creamy-skinned televideo actress\n whose smoke-and-flame eyes lit fires in hearts all over the solar\n system. She was credited with being the most beautiful woman alive and\n there were few who dared to contradict her when she mentioned it.\n\n\n \"And I can always get along with a woman if she remembers who\nI\nam,\"\n replied Carlton E. Carlton, the acid-tongued author whose biting novels\n had won him universal fame. He leaned his thin, bony body back into the\n comfort of an overstuffed chair and favored the actress with a wicked\n smile.\n\n\n The two of them were sitting in the finest lounge of the luxury space\n ship\nKismet\n, enjoying postprandial cocktails with Captain Homer\n Fogarty, the\nKismet's\nrotund commanding officer. The\nKismet\nwas\n blasting through space at close to the speed of light, bound from\n Callisto, one of Jupiter's moons, back to Earth. But none of the two\n hundred Earthbound passengers were conscious of the speed at all.\n\n\n Darling Toujours waved a long cigarette holder at the author. \"Don't\n pay any attention to him, Captain. You know how writers are—always\n putting words in other people's mouths, and not very good ones at that.\"\n\n\n \"Do you mean not very good words or not very good mouths, my dear?\"\n Carlton asked. The solar system's most famous actress clamped her\n scarlet lips shut with rage. It would take someone like Carlton E.\n Carlton, she knew, to point out the one minor blemish in an otherwise\n perfect body—her slightly over-sized mouth.\n\n\n She began to wish that she had never left Callisto, that she had\n cancelled her passage on the\nKismet\nwhen she learned that Carlton\n was to be a fellow passenger. But her studio had wired her to return\n to Earth immediately to make a new series of three dimensional video\n films. And the\nKismet\nwas the only first class space ship flying to\n Earth for two weeks. So she had kept her ticket in spite of Carlton.\n\n\n \"I must say that I think Miss Toujours has the prettiest mouth I've\n ever seen,\" boomed Captain Fogarty, his voice sounding something like\n a cross between a foghorn and a steam whistle. And he was not merely\n being gallant, for many a lonely night as he flew the darkness between\n Earth and the many planets, he had dreamed of caressing those lips.\n\n\n \"And I think you are definitely a man of discriminating taste,\" said\n Darling demurely, crossing her legs and arranging her dress to expose a\n little more of the Toujours charms to the Captain's eye.\n\n\n Carlton smiled casually at the exposed flesh. \"It's all very pretty,\n my dear,\" he said smugly. \"But we've seen it all before and in space\n you're supposed to act like a lady, if you can act that well.\"\n\n\n Darling Toujours drew back her hand to smack Carlton one in a very\n unlady-like manner when she suddenly realized that they were not alone.\n Her hand froze, poised elegantly in mid-air, as she turned to see a\n newcomer standing at the door.\nThe witness to the impending slap was a withered little lady, scarcely\n five feet tall, with silvered hair, eyes that twinkled like a March\n wind, and a friendly rash of wrinkles that gave her face the kindly,\n weathered appearance of an old stone idol. Her slight figure was lost\n in volumes of black cloth draped on her in a manner that had gone out\n of style at least fifty years before. The little woman coughed politely.\n\n\n \"I beg your pardon,\" she told them in a sweet, high little voice.\n \"I hope I didn't interrupt anything. If you would like to hit the\n gentleman, Miss Toujours, I'll be glad to come back later.\"\n\n\n Darling Toujours opened her violet eyes wide in surprise. \"Why, I\n was ... I was ... I—\" The actress uttered a small, gulping sound as\n she recovered her poise. \"Why, I was just going to pat him on the cheek\n for being such a nice boy. You are a nice boy, aren't you, Carlton?\"\n She leaned forward to stroke him gently on the face. Carlton roared\n with laughter and the good Captain colored deeply.\n\n\n \"Oh,\" said the little old woman, \"I'm sorry. I didn't know that he was\n your son.\" Carlton choked suddenly and Darling suffered from a brief\n fit of hysteria.\n\n\n The Captain took command. \"Now, look here, Madam,\" he sputtered. \"What\n is it you want?\"\n\n\n \"I really wanted to see you, Captain,\" she told him, her battered old\n shoes bringing her fully into the room with little mincing steps. \"The\n Purser says I have to sign a contract of some kind with you, and I\n wanted to know how to write my name. I'm Mrs. Omar K. Perkins, but you\n see, I'm really Mrs. Matilda Perkins because my Omar died a few years\n ago. But I haven't signed my name very much since then and I'm not at\n all sure of which is legal.\" She put one bird-like little hand to\n her throat and clasped the cameo there almost as if it could give her\n support. She looked so small and so frail that Fogarty forgave her the\n intrusion.\n\n\n \"It really doesn't make much difference how you sign the thing, just so\n long as you sign it,\" he blustered. \"Just a mere formality anyway. You\n just sign it any way you like.\" He paused, hoping that she would leave\n now that she had her information.\n\n\n \"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that,\" she said, but made no move whatsoever\n to leave. Captain Fogarty gave her his hardened stare of the type which\n withered most people where they stood. Mrs. Perkins just smiled sweetly\n at him.\n\n\n His rage getting out of hand, he finally blurted, \"And now, Mrs.\n Perkins, I think you'd better be getting back to your quarters. As you\n know, this is a private lounge for the\nfirst\nclass passengers.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Perkins continued to smile at him. \"Yes, I know. It's lovely,\n isn't it? I'll just go out this way.\" And before anyone could stop her,\n she had moved to the door to Darling Toujours' suite and had opened it,\n stepping inside.\n\n\n \"That's my room, not the door out,\" Darling said loudly.\n\n\n \"So I see,\" said Mrs. Perkins, staring at the opulent furnishings\n with avid pleasure. \"It's such a pretty thing, all done up with\n mother-of-pearl like that, isn't it? And what a pretty lace nightie\n lying on the bed.\" Mrs. Perkins picked up the sheer, gossamer garment\n to examine it. \"You do wear something under it, don't you?\"\n\n\n Darling screeched and darted for the door. She snatched the nightie\n away from Mrs. Perkins and rudely propelled the older woman out the\n door, closing it behind her. \"Captain, this woman must GO!\"\n\n\n \"I was just leaving, Miss Toujours. I hope you and your son have a very\n happy voyage. Good day, Captain Fogarty,\" she called over her shoulder\n as she exited. Carlton E. Carlton's shrill laughter followed her down\n the companionway.\nMrs. Perkins had been lying in her berth reading for less than an hour\n when the knock sounded at her door. She would have preferred to sit up\n and read, but her cabin was so small that there was no room for any\n other furniture besides the bed.\n\n\n \"Come in,\" she called in a small voice.\n\n\n Johnny Weaver, steward for the cheaper cabins, poked his youthful,\n freckled face through the door. \"Howdy, Mrs. Perkins. I wondered if I\n could do anything for you? It's about ten minutes before we eat.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you can pull that big box down from the top shelf there, if you\n don't mind. And, I wonder, would you mind calling me Grandma? All my\n children do it and I miss it so.\" She gave him a wrinkled smile that\n was at once wistful and petulant.\n\n\n Johnny laughed in an easy, infectious manner. \"Sure thing, Grandma.\"\n He stretched his long arms up to bring down the heavy bag and found\n himself wondering just how it had gotten up there in the first place.\n He didn't remember ever putting it there for her and Grandma Perkins\n was obviously too frail a woman to have handled such a heavy box by\n herself. He put it on the floor.\n\n\n As she stooped over and extracted a pair of low-heeled, black and\n battered shoes from the box, she asked him, \"Johnny, what was that\n paper I signed this afternoon?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, that? Why that was just a contract for passage, Grandma. You\n guaranteed to pay them so much for the flight, which you've already\n done, and they guaranteed that you wouldn't be put off against your\n will until you reached your destination.\"\n\n\n \"But why do we have to have a contract?\"\n\n\n Johnny leaned back, relaxing against the door. \"Well, STAR—that's\n Stellar Transportation and Atomic Research, you know—is one of\n the thirteen monopolies in this part of the solar system. The \"Big\n Thirteen,\" we call them. STAR charters every space flight in this neck\n of the woods. Well, back in the old days, when space flights were\n scarce, it used to be that you'd pay for a ticket from Saturn to Earth,\n say, and you'd get to Mars and they'd stop for fuel. Maybe somebody\n on Mars would offer a lot of money for your cabin. So STAR would just\n bump you off, refund part of your money and leave you stranded there.\n In order to get the monopoly, they had to promise to stop all that. And\n the Solar Congress makes them sign contracts guaranteeing you that they\n won't put you off against your wishes. Of course, they don't dare do it\n anymore anyway, but that's the law.\"\n\n\n Grandma Perkins sighed. \"It's such a small cabin I don't think anybody\n else would want it. But it's all that I could afford,\" she said,\n smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress with both hands.\n\n\n \"Anything else I can do for you, Grandma?\"\n\n\n \"No, thank you, Johnny. I think I can make it up the steps to the\n dining room by myself.\"\n\n\n A little while later when Johnny looked into her room to see if she had\n gone, the cabin was empty and the heavy box was back in place in the\n top cabinet.\nThe food that evening was not the very best, Grandma Perkins thought to\n herself, but that was mostly due to her seat. By the time the waiter\n got around to her little cranny most of it was cold. But she didn't\n complain. She enjoyed watching the people with the more expensive\n cabins parade their clothes and their manners at the Captain's table.\n And, it must be admitted, she was more than a trifle envious of them.\n Her acquaintances of the afternoon, Miss Toujours and Mr. Carlton, were\n seated there, Miss Toujours having the place of honor to the Captain's\n right.\n\n\n Grandma watched them as they finished up their food and then she moved\n from her little table over to one of the very comfortable sofas in the\n main lounge. In reality she wasn't supposed to be sitting there, but\n she hoped that she could get away with it. The divans were so much more\n comfortable than her hard, narrow bed that she felt like sitting there\n for a long time, by herself, just thinking.\n\n\n But her hopes met with disappointment. For shortly after she sat down,\n Darling Toujours and Carlton E. Carlton strolled over and sat down\n across from her, not recognizing her at first. Then Carlton spied her.\n\n\n \"Darling! There's that priceless little woman we met this afternoon.\"\n\n\n \"The little hag, you mean,\" Miss Toujours muttered under her breath,\n but loudly enough for Grandma Perkins to hear.\n\n\n \"Why, hello, Miss Toujours. And Mr. Carlton too. I hope you'll forgive\n me for this afternoon. I've found out who you were, you see.\"\n\n\n \"Of course we forgive you, Mrs. Jerkins,\" Darling said throatily,\n baring her teeth like a feline.\n\n\n \"My name is Perkins,\" Grandma smiled.\n\n\n \"I hope you don't mind, Toujours, but you know, you remind me a great\n deal of my grandniece, Agatha. She was undoubtedly the most lovely\n child I've ever seen.\"\n\n\n \"Why, thank you, Mrs. Perkins,\" Darling purred, starting to preen just\n a bit. Anything could be forgiven someone who complimented her.\n\n\n \"Of course, Agatha never was quite bright,\" Grandma said as she turned\n her head aside as if in sorrow. \"They were all set to put her in an\n institution when she ran off and married the lizard man in a carnival.\n I believe she's still appearing in the show as the bearded lady. A\n pity. She was so pretty, just like you.\"\n\n\n Darling Toujours muttered a few choice words under her breath.\n\n\n \"But we must all make the best of things as they come. That's what\n Omar, my husband, used to say.\" Grandma paused to wipe away a small\n tear that had gotten lodged in one of her eyes. \"That reminds me,\" she\n said finally, \"I've got a three dimensional picture of Omar right here.\n And pictures of all my children, my ten lovely children. I brought them\n with me specially tonight because I thought you might want to look at\n them. Now, where did I put them?\" Grandma opened her purse and began\n rummaging around in its voluminous confines.\n\n\n Darling and Carlton exchanged horrified glances and then rose silently\n and tip-toed out of the lounge.\n\n\n Grandma looked up from her search. \"Oh, my, they seem to have gone.\"\n\n\n Johnny Weaver, who had been clearing one of the nearby tables, put down\n a stack of dirty dishes and came over to her. \"I'd like to see the\n pictures, Grandma.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, that's very nice of you, Johnny, but—\" she said quickly.\n\n\n \"Really I would, Grandma. Where are they?\"\n\n\n \"I—\" She stopped and the devilment showed in her eyes. Her withered\n little face pursed itself into a smile. \"There aren't any pictures,\n Johnny. I don't carry any. I know their faces all so well I don't have\n to. But any time I want to get rid of somebody I just offer to show\n them pictures of my family. You'd be surprised how effective it is.\"\n\n\n Johnny laughed. \"Why are you going to Earth, anyway, Grandma?\"\n\n\n The old woman sighed. \"It's a long story, Johnny, but you just sit down\n and I'll tell it to you.\"\n\n\n \"I can't sit down in the lounge, but I'll be glad to stand up and\n listen.\"\n\n\n \"Then I'll make it a short story. You see, Johnny, I'm an old woman.\n I'll be 152 this year. And ever since Omar, my husband, died a few\n years ago, I've lived from pillar to post. First with one child and\n then with another. They've all been married for decades now of course,\n with children and grandchildren of their own. And I guess that I just\n get in their way. There just isn't much left in life for a feeble old\n woman like me.\" She sniffled a moment or two as if to cry. Johnny,\n remembering the heavy box in her cabin that got moved up and down\n without his help, suppressed a smile on the word \"feeble.\"\n\n\n \"There aren't many friends my age left around any more. So I'm being\n sent to Earth to a home full of dear, sweet old ladies my age, the\n money for which is being provided by my dear, sweet children—all ten\n of them.\" Grandma dabbed a bit of a handkerchief at her eyes. \"The\n rats,\" she muttered under her breath. When she saw her companion was\n smiling she dropped her pretense of crying.\n\n\n \"To be truthful, Johnny, they've grown old and stodgy, all of them.\n And I'm sure they think I've lost most of my marbles. Everything I did\n embarrassed them, so I guess it's for the best, but—\"\n\n\n Grandma Perkins never finished the sentence, for interrupting her came\n the horrendous clang of the\nKismet's\ngeneral alarm, and on its heels,\n charging through the main salon like a rhinoceros in heat, came Captain\n Fogarty.\n\n\n \"PIRATES! PIRATES! We're being attacked by space pirates! You there!\"\n he shouted at Johnny. \"Man your station! And you, Madam, to your\n quarters at once! PIRATES!\" he shouted again and barged through the\n door again and bellowed down the hall to the main bridge.\n\n\n Johnny was off like a startled rabbit, but Grandma moved with serene\n calmness to the door. Maybe, she thought, we're going to have a little\n excitement after all.\n\n\n At the door to the steps leading to her downstairs cabin she paused to\n think.\n\n\n \"If I go down and hide, I'll miss all the fun. Of course, it's safer,\n and an old woman like me shouldn't be up and about when pirates are\n around, but—\" A delicious smile spread over her face as she took her\n scruples firmly in hand and turned to follow the bellowing Captain\n towards the bridge.\nII\n\n\n The Starship\nKismet\nwas the pride and joy of Stellar Transportation\n and Atomic Research. It was outfitted with every known safety device\n and the control room was masterfully planned for maximum efficiency.\n But the astral architect who designed her never anticipated the\n situation facing her at the present. The\nKismet's\nbridge was a welter\n of confusion.\n\n\n The Senior Watch Officer was shouting at his assistant, the Navigator\n was cursing out the Pilot and the Gunnery Officer, whose job had been\n a sinecure until now, was bellowing at them all. Above the hubbub,\n suddenly, came the raucous voice of Captain Fogarty as he stalked onto\n the bridge.\n\n\n \"What in great space has happened to the motors? Why are we losing\n speed?\"\n\n\n The Senior Watch Officer saluted and shouted, \"Engine Room reports the\n engines have all stopped, Sir. Don't know why. We're operating the\n lights and vents on emergency power.\"\n\n\n The Communications Officer spoke up. \"The pirate ship reports that\n they're responsible, Sir. They say they've got a new device that will\n leave us without atomic power for as long as they like.\"\n\n\n As if to confirm this, over the loudspeaker came a voice. \"Ahoy, STAR\nKismet\n. Stand by for boarders. If you don't open up to us, we'll\n blast you off the map.\"\n\n\n \"Pirates! Attacking us! Incredible!\" cried the Captain. \"There are no\n pirates any more. What have we got a Space Patrol for? Where in blazes\n is the Space Patrol anyway?\"\n\n\n The Communications Officer gulped. \"Er, ah, we got in contact with\n Commodore Trumble. He says his ship can get here in ten hours anyway,\n and for us to wait for him.\"\n\n\n Captain Fogarty snorted. \"Fat lot of good he'll do us. Wait for him,\n eh? Well, we'll just blow that pirate out of the sky right now. Stand\n by the guns!\"\n\n\n \"The guns are useless,\" whined the Gunnery Officer. \"The atomics that\n run them won't operate at all. What will we do?\"\n\n\n \"Ahoy, STAR\nKismet\n. Open up your hatches when we arrive and let us\n in, or we won't spare a man of you,\" boomed the loudspeaker.\n\n\n \"Pirates going to board us. How nice,\" muttered Grandma to herself as\n she eavesdropped just outside the door to the bridge.\n\n\n \"They'll never get through the hatches alive. At least our small arms\n still work. We'll kill 'em all!\" cried Captain Fogarty.\n\n\n \"We only want one of you. All the rest of you will be spared if you\n open up the hatches and don't try to make no trouble,\" came the voice\n over the radio.\n\n\n \"Tell them I'd rather all of us be killed than to let one dirty pirate\n on board my ship,\" the Captain shouted to the Communications Officer.\n\n\n \"Oh, my goodness. That doesn't sound very smart,\" Grandma said half\n aloud. And turning from the doorway, she crept back through the\n deserted passageway.\n\n\n The main passenger hatch was not too far from the bridge. Grandma found\n it with ease, and in less than three minutes she had zipped herself\n into one of the emergency-use space suits stowed away beside the port.\n She felt awfully awkward climbing into the monstrous steel and plastic\n contraption, and her small body didn't quite fit the proportions of the\n metallic covering. But once she had maneuvered herself into it, she\n felt quite at ease.\n\n\n Opening the inner door to the airlock, she clanked into the little\n room. As the door shut behind her, she pressed the cycling button and\n evacuated the air from the lock.\n\n\n A minute or so later she heard poundings outside the airlock and quite\n calmly she reached out a mailed fist and turned a switch plainly\n marked:\nEMERGENCY LOCK\n\n DO NOT OPERATE IN FLIGHT\n\n\n The outer hatch opened almost immediately. The radio in Grandma's suit\n crackled with static. \"What are you doing here?\" demanded a voice over\n the suit radio.\n\n\n \"Pirates! I'm hiding from the pirates. They'll never find me here!\" she\n told them in a voice she hoped sounded full of panic.\n\n\n \"What's your name?\" asked the voice.\n\n\n \"Darling Toujours, famous television actress,\" she lied quite calmly.\n\n\n \"That's the one, boys,\" said another voice. \"Let's go.\" Catching hold\n of Grandma's arm, they led her out into the emptiness of free space.\nHalf an hour later, after the pirate ship had blasted far enough away\n from the\nKismet\n, the men in the control room relaxed and began to\n take off their space suits. One of the men who Grandma soon learned was\n Lamps O'Toole, the nominal leader of the pirates, stretched his brawny\n body to ease the crinks out of it and then rubbed his hands together.\n Grandma noticed that he carried a week's beard on his face, as did most\n of the other men.\n\n\n \"Well, that was a good one, eh, Snake?\" said Lamps.\n\n\n Snake Simpson was a wiry little man whose tough exterior in no way\n suggested a reptile, except, perhaps, for his eyes which sat too close\n to one another. \"You bet, Skipper. We're full fledged pirates now, just\n like old Captain Blackbrood.\"\n\n\n \"You mean Blackbeard, Snake,\" said Lamps.\n\n\n \"Sure. He used to sit around broodin' up trouble all the time.\"\n\n\n One of the other men piped up. \"And to think we get the pleasurable\n company of the sweetest doll in the whole solar system for free besides\n the money.\"\n\n\n \"Aw, women are no dern good—all of them,\" said Snake.\n\n\n \"Now, Snake, that's no way to talk in front of company. You just\n apologize to the lady,\" Lamps told him. Lamps was six inches taller and\n fifty pounds heavier than Snake. Snake apologized.\n\n\n \"That's better. And now, Miss Toujours, maybe you'd be more\n comfortable without that space suit on,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Oh, no, thank you. I feel much better with it on,\" a small voice said\n over the suit's loudspeaker system.\n\n\n Lamps grinned. \"Oh, come now, Miss Toujours. We ain't going to hurt\n you. I guarantee nobody will lay a finger to you.\"\n\n\n \"But I feel much—much safer, if you know what I mean,\" said the voice.\n\n\n \"Heck. With one of them things on, you can't eat, can't sleep,\n can't—Well, there's lots of things you can't do with one of them\n things on. Besides, we all want to take a little look at you, if you\n don't mind. Snake, you and Willie help the little lady out of her\n attire.\"\n\n\n As the men approached her, Grandma sensed the game was up. \"Okay,\" she\n told them. \"I give up. I can make it by myself.\" She started to take\n the bulky covering off. She had gotten no more than the headpiece off\n when the truth dawned on her companions.\n\n\n \"Holy Smoke (or something like that),\" said one of the men.\n\n\n \"Nippin' Nebulae,\" said another.\n\n\n \"It ain't Darling Toujours at all!\" cried Lamps.\n\n\n \"It ain't even no woman!\" cried Snake.\n\n\n \"I beg your pardon,\" said Grandma, and quite nonchalantly shed the rest\n of the suit and sat down in a comfortable chair. \"I am Mrs. Matilda\n Perkins.\"\n\n\n When he could recover his powers of speech, Lamps sputtered, \"I think\n you owe us a sort of an explanation, lady. If you know what I mean.\"\n\n\n \"Certainly. I know exactly what you mean. It's all quite simple. When I\n overheard that you intended to board the\nKismet\n, searching for only\n one person, I decided that one person had to be Darling Toujours. I\n guessed right off that she was the only one on board worth kidnapping\n and holding for ransom, so I simply let you believe that I was she and\n you took me. That's easy to understand, isn't it?\"\n\n\n \"Lady, I don't know what your game is, but it better be good. Now, just\n why did you do this to us?\" Lamps was restraining himself nobly.\n\n\n \"You never would have gotten inside the\nKismet\nwithout my assistance.\n And even if you had, you'd never have gotten back out alive.\n\n\n \"Captain Fogarty's men would have cut you to ribbons. So I opened the\n hatch to let you in, planted myself in the way, and you got out with\n me before they could muster their defenses. So, you see, I saved your\n lives.\"\n\n\n Grandma Perkins paused in her narrative and looked up at her audience,\n giving them a withered little smile. \"And if you want to know why,\n well ... I was bored on the\nKismet\n, and I thought how nice it would\n be to run away and join a gang of cutthroat pirates.\"\n\n\n \"She's batty,\" moaned Snake.\n\n\n \"She's lost her marbles,\" muttered another.\n\n\n \"Let's toss her overboard right now,\" said still another.\n\n\n Lamps O'Toole took the floor. \"Now, wait a minute. We can't do that,\"\n he said loudly. \"We got enough trouble as is. You know what would\n happen to us if the Space Patrol added murder to the list. They'd put\n the whole fleet in after us and track us and our families down to the\n last kid.\" Then he turned to the little old lady to explain.\n\n\n \"Look, lady—\"\n\n\n \"My name is Mrs. Matilda Perkins. You may call me Grandma.\"\n\n\n \"Okay, Grandma, look. You really fixed us good. To begin with, we ain't\n really pirates. We used to operate this tub as a freighter between the\n Jupiter moons. But STAR got a monopoly on all space flights, including\n freight, and they just froze us out. We can't operate nowhere in the\n solar system, unless we get their permission. And they just ain't\n giving permission to nobody these days.\" Lamps flopped into one of the\n control seats and lit a cigarette.\n\n\n \"So, when us good, honest men couldn't find any work because of STAR,\n and we didn't want to give up working in space, we just ups and decides\n to become pirates. This was our first job, and we sure did need the\n money we could have gotten out of Darling Toujours' studios for ransom.\"\n\n\n Lamps sighed. \"Now, we got you instead, no chance of getting the ransom\n money, and to top it all off, we'll be wanted for piracy by the Space\n Patrol.\"\n\n\n \"Well, it doesn't seem to me that you're ever going to be good pirates\n at this rate,\" Grandma told him. \"You should have known better than to\n take a woman at her word.\"\n\n\n \"I don't suppose you got any rich relatives what would pay to get you\n back?\" suggested Snake hopefully.\n\n\n \"I haven't got any rich relatives period,\" she said pertly. Then she\n added, \"But my ten children might scrape up a little cash for you if\n you promised you wouldn't bring me back at all.\"\n\n\n \"I figured as much,\" Lamps said dolefully. \"Lookit, Grandma, the best\n thing we can do is to put you off safely at the next place we stop.\n Unless we get you back in one piece the Space Patrol will be on our\n necks forever. So don't go getting any ideas about joining up with us.\"\n\n\n \"Well, the very least you could do for a poor old lady is to feed her,\"\n Grandma told him, her lower lip sticking out in a most petulant manner.\n \"They like to have starved me to death on that\nKismet\n.\"\n\n\n \"We ain't got much fancy in the line of grub....\" Lamps began.\n\n\n \"Just show me the way to the kitchen,\" said Grandma.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many of her grandchildren did Mrs.Perkins spend time with during the story?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_1", "options": ["Four", "Two", "None", "One"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of Mrs. Perkins’ qualities makes her suspicious?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_2", "options": ["Sharp mind", "Strength", "Large stature", "Cackle"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many times does Mrs. Perkins run into Darling in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_3", "options": ["Once", "Never", "Thrice", "Twice"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What best describes Mrs. Perkins' intent in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_4", "options": ["Mischief", "Revenge", "Chaos", "Destruction"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What history had the pirates had with Darling?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_5", "options": ["Darling used to date one of the pirates", "She closed their space flight business", "Some of the pirates worked on film sets with Darling", "There was no relation prior to their kidnapping"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the relationship like between Mrs. Perkins and the Captain?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_6", "options": ["The Captain had received special information from her children regarding her special care on the passage", "Mrs. Perkins had known the Captain through many times aboard Kismet", "The Captain tolerated her, but only to a point", "The Captain was endeared and called her Grandma"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which planet is not known to be colonized in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_7", "options": ["Saturn", "Venus", "Mars", "Earth"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Mrs. Perkins and Johnny?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_8", "options": ["Mrs. Perkins thinks Johnny is too old to be her grandson", "Johnny is scared of Mrs. Perkins", "Mrs. Perkins uses Johnny to enact her plan", "Johnny is amused by Mrs. Perkins"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many round trips does the Kismet make in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_9", "options": ["Zero", "One", "Two", "Three"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How are the pirates foiled?", "question_unique_id": "63812_DQG6TAWJ_10", "options": ["They board the Kismet without backups", "They don’t know what Darling actually looks like", "They don’t use their tractor beam to lock onto Kismet", "They don’t know what Darling sounds like"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/1/63812//63812-h//63812-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63392", "set_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Doorway to Kal-Jmar", "year": 1970, "author": "Knight, Damon", "topic": "Extinct cities -- Fiction; PS; Science fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Short stories", "article": "Doorway to Kal-Jmar\nBy Stuart Fleming\nTwo men had died before Syme Rector's guns\n\n to give him the key to the ancient city of\n\n Kal-Jmar—a city of untold wealth, and of\n\n robots that made desires instant commands.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1944.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe tall man loitered a moment before a garish window display, his eyes\n impassive in his space-burned face, as the Lillis patrolman passed.\n Then he turned, burying his long chin in the folds of his sand cape,\n and took up the pursuit of the dark figure ahead once more.\n\n\n Above, the city's multicolored lights were reflected from the\n translucent Dome—a distant, subtly distorted Lillis, through which the\n stars shone dimly.\n\n\n Getting through that dome had been his first urgent problem, but now he\n had another, and a more pressing one. It had been simple enough to pass\n himself off as an itinerant prospector and gain entrance to the city,\n after his ship had crashed in the Mare Cimmerium. But the rest would\n not be so simple. He had to acquire a spaceman's identity card, and he\n had to do it fast. It was only a matter of time until the Triplanet\n Patrol gave up the misleading trail he had made into the hill country,\n and concluded that he must have reached Lillis. After that, his only\n safety lay in shipping out on a freighter as soon as possible. He had\n to get off Mars, because his trail was warm, and the Patrol thorough.\n\n\n They knew, of course, that he was an outlaw—the very fact of the\n crashed, illegally-armed ship would have told them that. But they\n didn't know that he was Syme Rector, the most-wanted and most-feared\n raider in the System. In that was his only advantage.\n\n\n He walked a little faster, as his quarry turned up a side street and\n then boarded a moving ramp to an upper level. He watched until the\n short, wide-shouldered figure in spaceman's harness disappeared over\n the top of the ramp, and then followed.\n\n\n The man was waiting for him at the mouth of the ascending tunnel.\n\n\n Syme looked at him casually, without a flicker of expression, and\n started to walk on, but the other stepped into his path. He was quite\n young, Syme saw, with a fighter's shoulders under the white leather,\n and a hard, determined thrust to his firm jaw.\n\n\n \"All right,\" the boy said quietly. \"What is it?\"\n\n\n \"I don't understand,\" Syme said.\n\n\n \"The game, the angle. You've been following me. Do you want trouble?\"\n\n\n \"Why, no,\" Syme told him bewilderedly. \"I haven't been following you.\n I—\"\n\n\n The boy knuckled his chin reflectively. \"You could be lying,\" he said\n finally. \"But maybe I've made a mistake.\" Then—\"Okay, citizen, you can\n clear—but don't let me catch you on my tail again.\"\n\n\n Syme murmured something and turned away, feeling the spaceman's eyes\n on the small of his back until he turned the corner. At the next\n street he took a ramp up, crossed over and came down on the other side\n a block away. He waited until he saw the boy's broad figure pass the\n intersection, and then followed again more cautiously.\n\n\n It was risky, but there was no other way. The signatures, the data,\n even the photograph on the card could be forged once Syme got his hands\n on it, but the identity card itself—that oblong of dark diamondite,\n glowing with the tiny fires of radioactivity—that could not be\n imitated, and the only way to get it was to kill.\n\n\n Up ahead was the Founders' Tower, the tallest building in Lillis. The\n boy strode into the entrance lobby, bought a ticket for the observation\n platform, and took the elevator. As soon as his car was out of sight in\n the transparent tube, Syme followed. He put a half-credit slug into the\n machine, took the punctured slip of plastic that came out. The ticket\n went into a scanning slot in the wall of the car, and the elevator\n whisked him up.\nThe tower was high, more than a hundred meters above the highest level\n of the city, and the curved dome that kept air in Lillis was close\n overhead. Syme looked up, after his first appraising glance about the\n platform, and saw the bright-blue pinpoint of Earth. The sight stirred\n a touch of nostalgia in him, as it always did, but he put it aside.\n\n\n The boy was hunched over the circular balustrade a little distance\n away. Except for him, the platform was empty. Syme loosened his slim,\n deadly energy pistol in its holster and padded catlike toward the\n silent figure.\n\n\n It was over in a minute. The boy whirled as he came up, warned by\n some slight sound, or by the breath of Syme's passage in the still\n air. He opened his mouth to shout, and brought up his arm in a swift,\n instinctive gesture. But the blow never landed. Syme's pistol spat its\n silent white pencil of flame, and the boy crumpled to the floor with a\n minute, charred hole in the white leather over his chest.\nSyme stooped over him swiftly, found a thick wallet and thrust it into\n his pocket without a second glance. Then he raised the body in his arms\n and thrust it over the parapet.\n\n\n It fell, and in the same instant Syme felt a violent tug at his wrist.\n Before he could move to stop himself, he was over the edge. Too late,\n he realized what had happened—one of the hooks on the dead spaceman's\n harness had caught the heavy wristband of his chronometer. He was\n falling, linked to the body of his victim!\n\n\n Hardly knowing what he did, he lashed out wildly with his other arm,\n felt his fingertips catch and bite into the edge of the balustrade. His\n body hit the wall of the tower with a thump, and, a second later, the\n corpse below him hit the wall. Then they both hung there, swaying a\n little and Syme's fingers slipped a little with each motion.\n\n\n Gritting his teeth, he brought the magnificent muscles of his arm into\n play, raising the forearm against the dead weight of the dangling body.\n Fraction by slow fraction of an inch, it came up. Syme could feel the\n sweat pouring from his brow, running saltily into his eyes. His arms\n felt as if they were being torn from their sockets. Then the hook\n slipped free, and the tearing, unbearable weight vanished.\n\n\n The reaction swung Syme against the building again, and he almost\n lost his slippery hold on the balustrade. After a moment he heard the\n spaceman's body strike with a squashy thud, somewhere below.\n\n\n He swung up his other arm, got a better grip on the balustrade. He\n tried cautiously to get a leg up, but the motion loosened his hold on\n the smooth surface again. He relaxed, thinking furiously. He could hold\n on for another minute at most; then it was the final blast-off.\n\n\n He heard running footsteps, and then a pale face peered over the ledge\n at him. He realized suddenly that the whole incident could have taken\n only a few seconds. He croaked, \"Get me up.\"\n\n\n Wordlessly, the man clasped thin fingers around his wrist. The other\n pulled, with much puffing and panting, and with his help Syme managed\n to get a leg over the edge and hoist his trembling body to safety.\n\n\n \"Are you all right?\"\nSyme looked at the man, nursing the tortured muscles of his arms. His\n rescuer was tall and thin, of indeterminate age. He had light, sandy\n hair, a sharp nose, and—oddly conflicting—pale, serious eyes and a\n humorous wide mouth. He was still panting.\n\n\n \"I'm not hurt,\" Syme said. He grinned, his white teeth flashing in his\n dark, lean face. \"Thanks for giving me a hand.\"\n\n\n \"You scared hell out of me,\" said the man. \"I heard a thud. I\n thought—you'd gone over.\" He looked at Syme questioningly.\n\n\n \"That was my bag,\" the outlaw said quickly. \"It slipped out of my hand,\n and I overbalanced myself when I grabbed for it.\"\n\n\n The man sighed. \"I need a drink.\nYou\nneed a drink. Come on.\" He\n picked up a small black suitcase from the floor and started for the\n elevator, then stopped. \"Oh—your bag. Shouldn't we do something about\n that?\"\n\n\n \"Never mind,\" said Syme, taking his arm. \"The shock must have busted it\n wide open. My laundry is probably all over Lillis by now.\"\n\n\n They got off at the amusement level, three tiers down, and found a\n cafe around the corner. Syme wasn't worried about the man he had just\n killed. He had heard no second thud, so the body must have stayed on\n the first outcropping of the tower it struck. It probably wouldn't be\n found until morning.\n\n\n And he had the wallet. When he paid for the first round of\nculcha\n, he\n took it out and stole a glance at the identification card inside. There\n it was—his ticket to freedom. He began feeling expansive, and even\n friendly toward the slender, mouse-like man across the table. It was\n the\nculcha\n, of course. He knew it, and didn't care. In the morning\n he'd find a freighter berth—in as big a spaceport as Lillis, there\n were always jobs open. Meanwhile, he might as well enjoy himself, and\n it was safer to be seen with a companion than to be alone.\n\n\n He listened lazily to what the other was saying, leaning his tall,\n graceful body back into the softly-cushioned seat.\n\n\n \"Lissen,\" said Harold Tate. He leaned forward on one elbow, slipped,\n caught himself, and looked at the elbow reproachfully. \"Lissen,\" he\n said again, \"I trust you, Jones. You're obvi-obviously an adventurer,\n but you have an honest face. I can't see it very well at the moment,\n but I hic!—pardon—seem to recall it as an honest face. I'm going to\n tell you something, because I need your help!—help.\" He paused. \"I\n need a guide. D'you know this part of Mars well?\"\n\n\n \"Sure,\" said Syme absently. Out in the center of the floor, an AG\n plate had been turned on. Five Venusian girls were diving and twisting\n in its influence, propelling themselves by the motion of their\n delicately-webbed feet and trailing long gauzy streamers of synthesilk\n after them. Syme watched them through narrowed lids, feeling the glow\n of\nculcha\ninside him.\n\n\n \"I wanta go to Kal-Jmar,\" said Tate.\n\n\n Syme snapped to attention, every nerve tingling. An indefinable sense,\n a hunch that had served him well before, told him that something big\n was coming—something that promised adventure and loot for Syme Rector.\n \"Why?\" he asked softly. \"Why to Kal-Jmar?\"\n\n\n Harold Tate told him, and later, when Syme had taken him to his rooms,\n he showed him what was in his little black suitcase. Syme had been\n right; it was big.\nKal-Jmar was the riddle of the Solar System. It was the only remaining\n city of the ancient Martian race—the race that, legends said, had\n risen to greater heights than any other Solar culture. The machines,\n the artifacts, the records of the Martians were all there, perfectly\n preserved inside the city's bubble-like dome, after God knew how many\n thousands of years. But they couldn't be reached.\n\n\n For Kal-Jmar's dome was not the thing of steelite that protected\n Lillis: it was a tenuous, globular field of force that defied analysis\n as it defied explosives and diamond drills. The field extended both\n above and below the ground, and tunneling was of no avail. No one knew\n what had happened to the Martians, whether they were the ancestors of\n the present decadent Martian race, or a different species. No one knew\n anything about them or about Kal-Jmar.\n\n\n In the early days, when the conquest of Mars was just beginning, Earth\n scientists had been wild to get into the city. They had observed it\n from every angle, taken photographs of its architecture and the robots\n that still patrolled its fantastically winding streets, and then they\n had tried everything they knew to pierce the wall.\n\n\n Later, however, when every unsuccessful attempt had precipitated a\n bloody uprising of the present-day Martians—resulting in a rapid\n dwindling of the number of Martians—the Mars Protectorate had stepped\n in and forbidden any further experiments; forbidden, in fact, any\n Earthman to go near the place.\n\n\n Thus matter had stood for over a hundred years, until Harold Tate.\n Tate, a physicist, had stumbled on a field that seemed to be identical\n in properties to the Kal-Jmar dome; and what is more, he had found a\n force that would break it down.\n\n\n And so he had made his first trip to Mars, and within twenty-four\n hours, by the blindest of chances, blurted out his secret to Syme\n Rector, the scourge of the spaceways, the man with a thousand credits\n on his sleek, tigerish head.\n\n\n Syme's smile was not tigerish now; it was carefully, studiedly mild.\n For Tate was no longer drunk, and it was important that it should not\n occur to him that he had been indiscreet.\n\n\n \"This is native territory we're coming to, Harold,\" he said. \"Better\n strap on your gun.\"\n\n\n \"Why. Are they really dangerous?\"\n\n\n \"They're unpredictable,\" Syme told him. \"They're built differently, and\n they think differently. They breathe like us, down in their caverns\n where there's air, but they also eat sand, and get their oxygen that\n way.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I've heard about that,\" Tate said. \"Iron oxide—very interesting\n metabolism.\" He got his energy pistol out of the compartment and\n strapped it on absently.\n\n\n Syme turned the little sand car up a gentle rise towards the tortuous\n hill country in the distance. \"Not only that,\" he continued. \"They\n eat the damndest stuff. Lichens and fungi and tumble-grass off the\n deserts—all full of deadly poisons, from arsenic up the line to\n xopite. They seem intelligent enough—in their own way—but they never\n come near our cities and they either can't or won't learn Terrestrial.\n When the first colonists came here, they had to learn\ntheir\ncrazy\n language. Every word of it can mean any one of a dozen different\n things, depending on the inflection you give it. I can speak it some,\n but not much. Nobody can. We don't think the same.\"\n\n\n \"So you think they might attack us?\" Tate asked again, nervously.\n\n\n \"They\nmight\ndo anything,\" Syme said curtly. \"Don't worry about it.\"\n\n\n The hills were much closer than they had seemed, because of Mars'\n deceptively low horizon. In half an hour they were in the midst of a\n wilderness of fantastically eroded dunes and channels, laboring on\n sliding treads up the sides of steep hills only to slither down again\n on the other side.\nSyme stopped the car abruptly as a deep, winding channel appeared\n across their path. \"Gully,\" he announced. \"Shall we cross it, or follow\n it?\"\n\n\n Tate peered through the steelite nose of the car. \"Follow, I guess,\"\n he offered. \"It seems to go more or less where we're going, and if we\n cross it we'll only come to a couple dozen more.\"\n\n\n Syme nodded and moved the sand car up to the edge of the gully. Then he\n pressed a stud on the control board; a metal arm extruded from the tail\n of the car and a heavy spike slowly unscrewed from it, driving deep\n into the sand. A light on the board flashed, indicating that the spike\n was in and would bear the car's weight, and Syme started the car over\n the edge.\n\n\n As the little car nosed down into the gully, the metal arm left behind\n revealed itself to be attached to a length of thick, very strong wire\n cable, with a control cord inside. They inched down the almost vertical\n incline, unreeling the cable behind them, and starting minor landslides\n as they descended.\n\n\n Finally they touched bottom. Syme pressed another stud, and above, the\n metal spike that had supported them screwed itself out of the ground\n again and the cable reeled in.\n\n\n Tate had been watching with interest. \"Very ingenious,\" he said. \"But\n how do we get up again?\"\n\n\n \"Most of these gullies peter out gradually,\" said Syme, \"but if we want\n or have to climb out where it's deep, we have a little harpoon gun that\n shoots the anchor up on top.\"\n\n\n \"Good. I shouldn't like to stay down here for the rest of my\n natural life. Depressing view.\" He looked up at the narrow strip of\n almost-black sky visible from the floor of the gully, and shook his\n head.\n\n\n Neither Syme nor Tate ever had a chance to test the efficiency of their\n harpoon gun. They had traveled no more than five hundred meters, and\n the gully was as deep as ever, when Tate, looking up, saw a deeper\n blackness blot out part of the black sky directly overhead. He shouted,\n \"Look out!\" and grabbed for the nearest steering lever.\n\n\n The car wheeled around in a half circle and ran into the wall of the\n gully. Syme was saying, \"What—?\" when there was a thunderous crash\n that shook the sturdy walls of the car, as a huge boulder smashed into\n the ground immediately to their left.\n\n\n When the smoky red dust had cleared away, they saw that the left tread\n of the sand car was crushed beyond all recognition.\n\n\n Syme was cursing slowly and steadily with a deep, seething anger. Tate\n said, \"I guess we walk from here on.\" Then he looked up again and\n caught a glimpse of the horde of beasts that were rushing up the gully\n toward them.\n\n\n \"My God!\" he said. \"What are those?\"\n\n\n Syme looked. \"Those,\" he said bitterly, \"are Martians.\"\n\n\n The natives, like all Martian fauna, were multi-legged. Also like all\n Martian fauna, they moved so fast that you couldn't see how many legs\n they did have. Actually, however, the natives had six legs apiece—or,\n more properly, four legs and two arms. Their lungs were not as large\n as they appeared, being collapsed at the moment. What caused the bulge\n that made their torsos look like sausages was a huge air bladder, with\n a valve arrangement from the stomach and feeding directly into the\n bloodstream.\n\n\n Their faces were vaguely canine, but the foreheads were high, and the\n lips were not split. They did resemble dogs, in that their thick black\n fur was splotched with irregulate patches of white. These patches of\n white were subject to muscular control and could be spread out fanwise;\n or, conversely, the black could be expanded to cover the white, which\n helped to take care of the extremes of Martian temperature. Right now\n they were mostly black.\n\n\n The natives slowed down and spread out to surround the wrecked sand\n car, and it could be seen that most of them were armed with spears,\n although some had the slim Benson energy guns—strictly forbidden to\n Martians.\n\n\n Syme stopped cursing and watched tensely. Tate said nothing, but he\n swallowed audibly.\n\n\n One Martian, who looked exactly like all the rest, stepped forward and\n motioned unmistakably for the two to come out. He waited a moment and\n then gestured with his energy gun. That gun, Syme knew from experience,\n could burn through a small thickness of steelite if held on the same\n spot long enough.\n\"Come on,\" Syme said grimly. He rose and reached for a pressure suit,\n and Tate followed him.\n\n\n \"What do you think they'll—\" he began, and then stopped himself. \"I\n know. They're unpredictable.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah,\" said Syme, and opened the door. The air in the car\nwhooshed\ninto the near-vacuum outside, and he and Tate stepped out.\n\n\n The Martian leader looked at them enigmatically, then turned and\n started off. The other natives closed in on them, and they all bounded\n along under the weak gravity.\n\n\n They bounded along for what Syme figured as a good kilometer and a\n half, and they then reached a branch in the gully and turned down\n it, going lower all the time. Under the light of their helmet lamps,\n they could see the walls of the gully—a tunnel, now—getting darker\n and more solid. Finally, when Syme estimated they were about nine\n kilometers down, there was even a suggestion of moisture.\n\n\n The tunnel debouched at last into a large cavern. There was a\n phosphorescent gleam from fungus along the walls, but Syme couldn't\n decide how far away the far wall was. He noticed something else, though.\n\n\n \"There's air here,\" he said to Tate. \"I can see dust motes in it.\" He\n switched his helmet microphone from radio over to the audio membrane\n on the outside of the helmet. \"\nKalis methra\n,\" he began haltingly,\n \"\nseltin guna getal.\n\"\n\n\n \"Yes, there is air here,\" said the Martian leader, startlingly. \"Not\n enough for your use, however, so do not open your helmets.\"\n\n\n Syme swore amazedly.\n\n\n \"I thought you said they didn't speak Terrestrial,\" Tate said. Syme\n ignored him.\n\n\n \"We had our reasons for not doing so,\" the Martian said.\n\n\n \"But how—?\"\n\n\n \"We are telepaths, of course. On a planet which is nearly airless on\n its surface, we have to be. A tendency of the Terrestrial mind is to\n ignore the obvious. We have not had a spoken language of our own for\n several thousand years.\"\n\n\n He darted a glance at Syme's darkly scowling face. His own hairy face\n was expressionless, but Syme sensed that he was amused. \"Yes, you're\n right,\" he said. \"The language you and your fellows struggled to learn\n is a fraud, a hodge-podge concocted to deceive you.\"\n\n\n Tate looked interested. \"But why this—this gigantic masquerade?\"\n\n\n \"You had nothing to give us,\" the Martian said simply.\n\n\n Tate frowned, then flushed. \"You mean you avoided revealing yourselves\n because you—had nothing to gain from mental intercourse with us?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n Tate thought again. \"But—\"\n\n\n \"No,\" the Martian interrupted him, \"revealing the extent of our\n civilization would have spared us nothing at your people's hands. Yours\n is an imperialist culture, and you would have had Mars, whether you\n thought you were taking it from equals or not.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind that,\" Syme broke in impatiently. \"What do you want with\n us?\"\n\n\n The Martian looked at him appraisingly. \"You already suspect.\n Unfortunately, you must die.\"\nIt was a weird situation, Syme thought. His mind was racing, but as yet\n he could see no way out. He began to wonder, if he did, could he keep\n the Martians from knowing about it? Then he realized that the Martian\n must have received that thought, too, and he was enraged. He stood,\n holding himself in check with an effort.\n\n\n \"Will you tell us why?\" Tate asked.\n\n\n \"You were brought here for that purpose. It is part of our conception\n of justice. I will tell you and your—friend—anything you wish to\n know.\"\n\n\n Syme noticed that the other Martians had retired to the farther side of\n the cavern. Some were munching the glowing fungus. That left only the\n leader, who was standing alertly on all fours a short distance away\n from them, holding the Benson gun trained on them. Syme tried not to\n think about the gun, especially about making a grab for it. It was like\n trying not to think of the word \"hippopotamus.\"\n\n\n Tate squatted down comfortably on the floor of the cavern, apparently\n unconcerned, but his hands were trembling slightly. \"First why—\" he\n began.\n\n\n \"There are many secrets in Kal-Jmar,\" the Martian said, \"among them a\n very simple catalyzing agent which could within fifty years transform\n Mars to a planet with Terrestrially-thick atmosphere.\"\n\n\n \"I think I see,\" Tate said thoughtfully. \"That's been the ultimate aim\n all along, but so far the problem has us licked. If we solved it, then\n we'd have all of Mars, not just the cities. Your people would die out.\n You couldn't have that, of course.\"\n\n\n He sighed deeply. He spread his gloved hands before him and looked\n at them with a queer intentness. \"Well—how about the Martians—the\n Kal-Jmar Martians, I mean? I'd dearly love to know the answer to that\n one.\"\n\n\n \"Neither of the alternatives in your mind is correct. They were not a\n separate species, although they were unlike us. But they were not our\n ancestors, either. They were the contemporaries of our ancestors.\"\n\n\n \"Several thousand years ago Mars' loss of atmosphere began to make\n itself felt. There were two ways out. Some chose to seal themselves\n into cities like Kal-Jmar; our ancestors chose to adapt their bodies to\n the new conditions. Thus the race split. Their answer to the problem\n was an evasion; they remained static. Our answer was the true one, for\n we progressed. We progressed beyond the need of science; they remained\n its slaves. They died of a plague—and other causes.\n\n\n \"You see,\" he finished gently, \"our deception has caused a natural\n confusion in your minds. They were the degenerates, not we.\"\n\n\n \"And yet,\" Tate mused, \"you are being destroyed by contact with\n an—inferior—culture.\"\n\n\n \"We hope to win yet,\" the Martian said.\n\n\n Tate stood up, his face very white. \"Tell me one thing,\" he begged.\n \"Will our two races ever live together in amity?\"\n\n\n The Martian lowered his head. \"That is for unborn generations.\" He\n looked at Tate again and aimed the energy gun. \"You are a brave man,\"\n he said. \"I am sorry.\"\n\n\n Syme saw all his hopes of treasure and glory go glimmering down the\n sights of the Martian's Benson gun, and suddenly the pent-up rage in\n him exploded. Too swiftly for his intention to be telegraphed, before\n he knew himself what he meant to do, he hurled himself bodily into the\n Martian.\nIt was like tangling with a draft horse. The Martian was astonishingly\n strong. Syme scrambled desperately for the gun, got it, but couldn't\n tear it out of the Martian's fingers. And all the time he could almost\n feel the Martian's telepathic call for help surging out. He heard the\n swift pad of his followers coming across the cavern.\n\n\n He put everything he had into one mighty, murderous effort. Every\n muscle fiber in his superbly trained body crackled and surged with\n power. He roared his fury. And the gun twisted out of the Martian's\n iron grip!\n\n\n He clubbed the prostrate leader with it instantly, then reversed the\n weapon and snapped a shot at the nearest Martian. The creature dropped\n his lance and fell without a sound.\n\n\n The next instant a ray blinked at him, and he rolled out of the way\n barely in time. The searing ray cut a swath over the leader's body and\n swerved to cut down on him. Still rolling, he fired at the holder of\n the weapon. The gun dropped and winked out on the floor.\n\n\n Syme jumped to his feet and faced his enemies, snarling like the\n trapped tiger he was. Another ray slashed at him, and he bent lithely\n to let it whistle over his head. Another, lower this time. He flipped\n his body into the air and landed upright, his gun still blazing. His\n right leg burned fiercely from a ray-graze, but he ignored it. And\n all the while he was mowing down the massed natives in great swaths,\n seeking out the ones armed with Bensons in swift, terrible slashes,\n dodging spears and other missiles in midair, and roaring at the top of\n his powerful lungs.\n\n\n At last there were none with guns left to oppose him. He scythed down\n the rest in two terrible, lightning sweeps of his ray, then dropped\n the weapon from blistered fingers.\n\n\n He was gasping for breath, and realized that he was losing air from\n the seared-open right leg of his suit. He reached for the emergency\n kit at his side, drawing in great, gasping breaths, and fumbled out\n a tube of sealing liquid. He spread the stuff on liberally, smearing\n it impartially over flesh and fabric. It felt like liquid hell on the\n burned, bleeding leg, but he kept on until the quick-drying fluid\n formed an airtight patch.\n\n\n Only then did he turn, to see Tate flattened against the wall behind\n him, his hands empty at his sides. \"I'm sorry,\" Tate said miserably. \"I\n could have grabbed a spear or something, but—I just couldn't, not even\n to save my own life. I—I halfway hoped they'd kill both of us.\"\n\n\n Syme glared at him and spat, too enraged to think of diplomacy. He\n turned and strode out of the cavern, carrying his right leg stiffly,\n but with his feral, tigerish head held high.\n\n\n He led the way, wordlessly, back to the wrecked sand car. Tate followed\n him with a hangdog, beaten air, as though he had just found something\n that shattered all his previous concepts of the verities in life, and\n didn't know what to do about it.\n\n\n Still silently, Syme refilled his oxygen tank, watched Tate do the\n same, and then picked up two spare tanks and the precious black\n suitcase and handed one of the tanks to Tate. Then he stumped around\n to the back of the car and inspected the damage. The cable reel, which\n might have drawn them out of the gully, was hopelessly smashed. That\n was that.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Syme accept the mission with Tate?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_1", "options": ["He needed a way back to Earth", "He felt he would collect a reward along the way", "He respected Tate", "He had no plan for his life, so he jumped on the adventure"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Tate likely dejected to learn the truth about Kal-Jmar from the Martian?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_2", "options": ["He learned Kal-Jmar didn’t contain secrets and treasures", "He learned the creatures of Kal-Jmar would kill him instantly", "He learned Kal-Jmar was a fictional place", "He was told the Kal-Jmar dome sensed Earthling DNA and would explode his body on entry"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Syme intend to do when he returned to Earth?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_3", "options": ["Unknown", "Reunite with his family", "Exact revenge", "Exploit the atmosphere catalyst the Martians invented"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Syme and Tate?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_4", "options": ["They were friendly outlaws escaping the law together", "Syme was intrigued by Tate’s mission and joined on", "Tate came to Mars in search of Syme because of his reputation", "Syme knew of Tate and used him for his ticket back to Earth"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was it that Syme was able to best one of the Martians and escape?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_5", "options": ["Element of surprise", "It was Tate who actually bested the Martian", "Syme had the more powerful weapon", "His reinforcements arrived"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do the Martians detect Syme and Tate on the surface?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_6", "options": ["They have radar on the surface of Mars", "They patrol on foot", "It’s not revealed how they detect them", "They can sense rumbling from their underground caves"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was one of the special properties of Kal-Jmar?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_7", "options": ["A different species of Martian lives there", "It had an atmosphere", "It was a gas planet", "Earthlings that spoke terrestrial lived there"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do Martians communicate among themselves?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_8", "options": ["Complicated Martian language that Earthlings can’t decipher", "Mind reading", "They speak Terrestrial language", "Hand signals"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which planets have living populations on them from descriptions in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_9", "options": ["Mars, Venus, Earth", "Mars, Earth", "Mars, Venus", "Earth, Kal-Jmar, Venus"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Syme know the target he was following at the start of the story?", "question_unique_id": "63392_KMVGI51I_10", "options": ["The target once arrested Snyme", "He did not know him", "He was hired to kill him by another outlaw", "They had once worked together on a pillaging mission"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/3/9/63392//63392-h//63392-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63130", "set_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Mr. Meek Plays Polo", "year": 1953, "author": "Simak, Clifford D.", "topic": "Adventure stories; PS; Asteroids -- Fiction; Science fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Space travelers -- Fiction", "article": "Mr. Meek Plays Polo\nBy CLIFFORD D. SIMAK\nMr. Meek was having his troubles. First, the\neducated\nbugs worried him; then the\n\n welfare worker tried to stop the Ring Rats' feud\n\n by enlisting his aid. And now, he was a drafted\n\n space-polo player—a fortune bet on his ability\n\n at a game he had never played in his cloistered life.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1944.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe sign read:\nAtomic Motors Repaired. Busted\n \nPlates Patched Up. Rocket Tubes\n \nRelined. Wheeze In, Whiz Out!\nIt added, as an afterthought, in shaky, inexpert lettering:\nWe Fix Anything.\nMr. Oliver Meek stared owlishly at the sign, which hung from an arm\n attached to a metal standard sunk in solid rock. A second sign was\n wired to the standard just below the metal arm, but its legend was\n faint, almost illegible. Meek blinked at it through thick-lensed\n spectacles, finally deciphered its scrawl:\nAsk About Educated Bugs.\n\n\n A bit bewildered, but determined not to show it, Meek swung away from\n the sign-post and gravely regarded the settlement. On the chart it was\n indicated by a fairly sizeable dot, but that was merely a matter of\n comparison. Out Saturn-way even the tiniest outpost assumes importance\n far beyond its size.\n\n\n The slab of rock was no more than five miles across, perhaps even\n less. Here in its approximate center, were two buildings, both of\n almost identical construction, semi-spherical and metal. Out here, Meek\n realized, shelter was the thing. Architecture merely for architecture's\n sake was still a long way off.\n\n\n One of the buildings was the repair shop which the sign advertised.\n The other, according to the crudely painted legend smeared above its\n entrance lock, was the\nSaturn Inn\n.\n\n\n The rest of the rock was landing field, pure and simple. Blasters had\n leveled off the humps and irregularities so spaceships could sit down.\n\n\n Two ships now were on the field, pulled up close against the repair\n shop. One, Meek noticed, belonged to the Solar Health and Welfare\n Department, the other to the Galactic Pharmaceutical Corporation.\n The Galactic ship was a freighter, ponderous and slow. It was here,\n Meek knew, to take on a cargo of radiation moss. But the other was a\n puzzler. Meek wrinkled his brow and blinked his eyes, trying to figure\n out what a welfare ship would be doing in this remote corner of the\n Solar System.\n\n\n Slowly and carefully, Meek clumped toward the squat repair shop. Once\n or twice he stumbled, hoping fervently he wouldn't get the feet of his\n cumbersome spacesuit all tangled up. The gravity was slight, next to\n non-existent, and one who wasn't used to it had to take things easy and\n remember where he was.\n\n\n Behind him Saturn filled a tenth of the sky, a yellow, lemon-tinged\n ball, streaked here and there with faint crimson lines and blotched\n with angry, bright green patches.\n\n\n To right and left glinted the whirling, twisting, tumbling rocks that\n made up the Inner Ring, while arcing above the horizon opposed to\n Saturn were the spangled glistening rainbows of the other rings.\n\n\n \"Like dewdrops in the black of space,\" Meek mumbled to himself. But he\n immediately felt ashamed of himself for growing poetic. This sector of\n space, he knew, was not in the least poetic. It was hard and savage and\n as he thought about that, he hitched up his gun belt and struck out\n with a firmer tread that almost upset him. After that, he tried to\n think of nothing except keeping his two feet under him.\n\n\n Reaching the repair shop's entrance lock, he braced himself solidly to\n keep his balance, reached out and pressed a buzzer. Swiftly the lock\n spun outward and a moment later Meek had passed through the entrance\n vault and stepped into the office.\n\n\n A dungareed mechanic sat tilted in a chair against a wall, feet on the\n desk, a greasy cap pushed back on his head.\n\n\n Meek stamped his feet gratefully, pleased at feeling Earth gravity\n under him again. He lifted the hinged helmet of his suit back on his\n shoulders.\n\n\n \"You are the gentleman who can fix things?\" he asked the mechanic.\nThe mechanic stared. Here was no hell-for-leather freighter pilot, no\n be-whiskered roamer of the outer orbits. Meek's hair was white and\n stuck out in uncombed tufts in a dozen directions. His skin was pale.\n His blue eyes looked watery behind the thick lenses that rode his nose.\n Even the bulky spacesuit failed to hide his stooped shoulders and\n slight frame.\n\n\n The mechanic said nothing.\n\n\n Meek tried again. \"I saw the sign. It said you could fix anything. So\n I....\"\n\n\n The mechanic shook himself.\n\n\n \"Sure,\" he agreed, still slightly dazed. \"Sure I can fix you up. What\n you got?\"\n\n\n He swung his feet off the desk.\n\n\n \"I ran into a swarm of pebbles,\" Meek confessed. \"Not much more than\n dust, really, but the screen couldn't stop it all.\"\n\n\n He fumbled his hands self-consciously. \"Awkward of me,\" he said.\n\n\n \"It happens to the best of them,\" the mechanic consoled. \"Saturn sweeps\n in clouds of the stuff. Thicker than hell when you reach the Rings.\n Lots of ships pull in with punctures. Won't take no time.\"\n\n\n Meek cleared his throat uneasily. \"I'm afraid it's more than a\n puncture. A pebble got into the instruments. Washed out some of them.\"\n\n\n The mechanic clucked sympathetically. \"You're lucky. Tough job to\n bring in a ship without all the instruments. Must have a honey of a\n navigator.\"\n\n\n \"I haven't got a navigator,\" Meek said, quietly.\n\n\n The mechanic stared at him, eyes popping. \"You mean you brought it in\n alone? No one with you?\"\n\n\n Meek gulped and nodded. \"Dead reckoning,\" he said.\n\n\n The mechanic glowed with sudden admiration. \"I don't know who you are,\n mister,\" he declared, \"but whoever you are, you're the best damn pilot\n that ever took to space.\"\n\n\n \"Really I'm not,\" said Meek. \"I haven't done much piloting, you see. Up\n until just a while ago, I never had left Earth. Bookkeeper for Lunar\n Exports.\"\n\n\n \"Bookkeeper!\" yelped the mechanic. \"How come a bookkeeper can handle a\n ship like that?\"\n\n\n \"I learned it,\" said Meek.\n\n\n \"You learned it?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, from a book. I saved my money and I studied. I always wanted to\n see the Solar System and here I am.\"\n\n\n Dazedly, the mechanic took off his greasy cap, laid it carefully on the\n desk, reached out for a spacesuit that hung from a wall hook.\n\n\n \"Afraid this job might take a while,\" he said. \"Especially if we have\n to wait for parts. Have to get them in from Titan City. Why don't you\n go over to the\nInn\n. Tell Moe I sent you. They'll treat you right.\"\n\n\n \"Thank you,\" said Meek, \"but there's something else I'm wondering\n about. There was another sign out there. Something about educated bugs.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, them,\" said the mechanic. \"They belong to Gus Hamilton. Maybe\n belong ain't the right word because they were on the rock before Gus\n took over. Anyhow, Gus is mighty proud of them, although at times they\n sure run him ragged. First year they almost drove him loopy trying to\n figure out what kind of game they were playing.\"\n\n\n \"Game?\" asked Meek, wondering if he was being hoaxed.\n\n\n \"Sure, game. Like checkers. Only it ain't. Not chess, neither. Even\n worse than that. Bugs dig themselves a batch of holes, then choose up\n sides and play for hours. About the time Gus would think he had it\n figured out, they'd change the rules and throw him off again.\"\n\n\n \"That doesn't make sense,\" protested Meek.\n\n\n \"Stranger,\" declared the mechanic, solemnly, \"there ain't nothing\n about them bugs that make sense. Gus' rock is the only one they're on.\n Gus thinks maybe the rock don't even belong to the Solar system. Thinks\n maybe it's a hunk of stone from some other solar system. Figures maybe\n it crossed space somehow and was captured by Saturn, sucked into the\n Ring. That would explain why it's the only one that has the bugs. They\n come along with it, see.\"\n\n\n \"This Gus Hamilton,\" said Meek. \"I'd like to see him. Where could I\n find him?\"\n\n\n \"Go over to the\nInn\nand wait around,\" advised the mechanic. \"He'll\n come in sooner or later. Drops around regular, except when his\n rheumatism bothers him, to pick up a bundle of papers. Subscribes to a\n daily paper, he does. Only man out here that does any reading. But all\n he reads is the sports section. Nuts about sports, Gus is.\"\nII\n\n\n Moe, bartender at Saturn Inn, leaned his elbow on the bar and braced\n his chin in an outspread palm. His face wore a melancholy, hang-dog\n look. Moe liked things fairly peaceable, but now he saw trouble coming\n in big batches.\n\n\n \"Lady,\" he declared mournfully, \"you sure picked yourself a job. The\n boys around here don't take to being uplifted and improved. They ain't\n worth it, either. Just ring-rats, that's all they are.\"\n\n\n Henrietta Perkins, representative for the public health and welfare\n department of the Solar government, shuddered at his suggestion of\n anything so low it didn't yearn for betterment.\n\n\n \"But those terrible feuds,\" she protested. \"Fighting just because they\n live in different parts of the Ring. It's natural they might feel some\n rivalry, but all this killing! Surely they don't enjoy getting killed.\"\n\n\n \"Sure they enjoy it,\" declared Moe. \"Not being killed, maybe ...\n although they're willing to take a chance on that. Not many of them\n get killed, in fact. Just a few that get sort of careless. But even if\n some of them are killed, you can't go messing around with that feud\n of theirs. If them boys out in sectors Twenty-Three and Thirty-Seven\n didn't have their feud they'd plain die of boredom. They just got to\n have somebody to fight with. They been fighting, off and on, for years.\"\n\n\n \"But they could fight with something besides guns,\" said the welfare\n lady, a-smirk with righteousness. \"That's why I'm here. To try to get\n them to turn their natural feelings of rivalry into less deadly and\n disturbing channels. Direct their energies into other activities.\"\n\n\n \"Like what?\" asked Moe, fearing the worst.\n\n\n \"Athletic events,\" said Miss Perkins.\n\n\n \"Tin shinny, maybe,\" suggested Moe, trying to be sarcastic.\n\n\n She missed the sarcasm. \"Or spelling contests,\" she said.\n\n\n \"Them fellow can't spell,\" insisted Moe.\n\n\n \"Games of some sort, then. Competitive games.\"\n\n\n \"Now you're talking,\" Moe enthused. \"They take to games. Seven-toed\n Pete with the deuces wild.\"\n\n\n The inner door of the entrance lock grated open and a spacesuited\n figure limped into the room. The spacesuit visor snapped up and a brush\n of grey whiskers spouted into view.\n\n\n It was Gus Hamilton.\n\n\n He glared at Moe. \"What in tarnation is all this foolishness?\" he\n demanded. \"Got your message, I did, and here I am. But it better be\n important.\"\n\n\n He hobbled to the bar. Moe reached for a bottle and shoved it toward\n him, keeping out of reach.\n\n\n \"Have some trouble?\" he asked, trying to be casual.\n\n\n \"Trouble! Hell, yes!\" blustered Gus. \"But I ain't the only one that's\n going to have trouble. Somebody sneaked over and stole the injector out\n of my space crate. Had to borrow Hank's to get over here. But I know\n who it was. There ain't but one other ring-rat got a rocket my injector\n will fit.\"\n\n\n \"Bud Craney,\" said Moe. It was no secret. Every man in the two sectors\n of the Ring knew just exactly what kind of spacecraft the other had.\n\n\n \"That's right,\" said Gus, \"and I'm fixing to go over into Thirty-seven\n and yank Bud up by the roots.\"\n\n\n He took a jolt of liquor. \"Yes, sir, I sure aim to crucify him.\"\n\n\n His eyes lighted on Miss Henrietta Perkins.\n\n\n \"Visitor?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"She's from the government,\" said Moe.\n\n\n \"Revenuer?\"\n\n\n \"Nope. From the welfare outfit. Aims to help you fellows out. Says\n there ain't no sense in you boys in Twenty-three all the time fighting\n with the gang from Thirty-seven.\"\n\n\n Gus stared in disbelief.\n\n\n Moe tried to be helpful. \"She wants you to play games.\"\n\n\n Gus strangled on his drink, clawed for air, wiped his eyes.\n\n\n \"So that's why you asked me over here. Another of your danged peace\n parleys. Come and talk things over, you said. So I came.\"\n\n\n \"There's something in what she says,\" defended Moe. \"You ring-rats been\n ripping up space for a long time now. Time you growed up and settled\n down. You're aiming on going over right now and pulverizing Bud. It\n won't do you any good.\"\n\n\n \"I'll get a heap of satisfaction out of it,\" insisted Gus. \"And,\n besides, I'll get my injector back. Might even take a few things off\n Bud's ship. Some of the parts on mine are wearing kind of thin.\"\n\n\n Gus took another drink, glowering at Miss Perkins.\n\n\n \"So the government sent you out to make us respectable,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Merely to help you, Mr. Hamilton,\" she declared. \"To turn your hatreds\n into healthy competition.\"\n\n\n \"Games, eh?\" said Gus. \"Maybe you got something, after all. Maybe we\n could fix up some kind of game....\"\n\n\n \"Forget it, Gus,\" warned Moe. \"If you're thinking of energy guns at\n fifty paces, it's out. Miss Perkins won't stand for anything like that.\"\nGus wiped his whiskers and looked hurt. \"Nothing of the sort,\" he\n denied. \"Dang it, you must think I ain't got no sportsmanship at all. I\n was thinking of a real sport. A game they play back on Earth and Mars.\n Read about it in my papers. Follow the teams, I do. Always wanted to\n see a game, but never did.\"\n\n\n Miss Perkins beamed. \"What game is it, Mr. Hamilton?\"\n\n\n \"Space polo,\" said Gus.\n\n\n \"Why, how wonderful,\" simpered Miss Perkins. \"And you boys have the\n spaceships to play it with.\"\n\n\n Moe looked alarmed. \"Miss Perkins,\" he warned, \"don't let him talk you\n into it.\"\n\n\n \"You shut your trap,\" snapped Gus. \"She wants us to play games, don't\n she. Well, polo is a game. A nice, respectable game. Played in the best\n society.\"\n\n\n \"It wouldn't be no nice, respectable game the way you fellows would\n play it,\" predicted Moe. \"It would turn into mass murder. Wouldn't be\n one of you who wouldn't be planning on getting even with someone else,\n once you got him in the open.\"\n\n\n Miss Perkins gasped. \"Why, I'm sure they wouldn't!\"\n\n\n \"Of course we wouldn't,\" declared Gus, solemn as an owl.\n\n\n \"And that ain't all,\" said Moe, warming to the subject. \"Those crates\n you guys got wouldn't last out the first chukker. Most of them would\n just naturally fall apart the first sharp turn they made. You can't\n play polo in ships tied up with haywire. Those broomsticks you\n ring-rats ride around on are so used to second rate fuel they'd split\n wide open first squirt of high test stuff you gave them.\"\n\n\n The inner locks grated open and a man stepped through into the room.\n\n\n \"You're prejudiced,\" Gus told Moe. \"You just don't like space polo,\n that is all. You ain't got no blueblood in you. We'll leave it up to\n this man here. We'll ask his opinion of it.\"\n\n\n The man flipped back his helmet, revealing a head thatched by white\n hair and dominated by a pair of outsize spectacles.\n\n\n \"My opinion, sir,\" said Oliver Meek, \"seldom amounts to much.\"\n\n\n \"All we want to know,\" Gus told him, \"is what you think of space polo.\"\n\n\n \"Space polo,\" declared Meek, \"is a noble game. It requires expert\n piloting, a fine sense of timing and....\"\n\n\n \"There, you see!\" whooped Gus, triumphantly.\n\n\n \"I saw a game once,\" Meek volunteered.\n\n\n \"Swell,\" bellowed Gus. \"We'll have you coach our team.\"\n\n\n \"But,\" protested Meek, \"but ... but.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Mr. Hamilton,\" exulted Miss Perkins, \"you are so wonderful. You\n think of everything.\"\n\n\n \"Hamilton!\" squeaked Meek.\n\n\n \"Sure,\" said Gus. \"Old Gus Hamilton. Grow the finest dog-gone radiation\n moss you ever clapped your eyes on.\"\n\n\n \"Then you're the gentleman who has bugs,\" said Meek.\n\n\n \"Now, look here,\" warned Gus, \"you watch what you say or I'll hang one\n on you.\"\n\n\n \"He means your rock bugs,\" Moe explained, hastily.\n\n\n \"Oh, them,\" said Gus.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" said Meek, \"I'm interested in them. I'd like to see them.\"\n\n\n \"See them,\" said Gus. \"Mister, you can have them if you want them.\n Drove me out of house and home, they did. They're dippy over metal. Any\n kind of metal, but alloys especially. Eat the stuff. They'll tromp you\n to death heading for a spaceship. Got so I had to move over to another\n rock to live. Tried to fight it out with them, but they whipped me pure\n and simple. Moved out and let them have the place after they started to\n eat my shack right out from underneath my feet.\"\n\n\n Meek looked crestfallen.\n\n\n \"Can't get near them, then,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Sure you can,\" said Gus. \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"Well, a spacesuit's metal and....\"\n\n\n \"Got that all fixed up,\" said Gus. \"You come back with me and I'll let\n you have a pair of stilts.\"\n\n\n \"Stilts?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah. Wooden stilts. Them danged fool bugs don't know what wood is.\n Seem to be scared of it, sort of. You can walk right among them if you\n want to, long as you're walking on the stilts.\"\n\n\n Meek gulped. He could imagine what stilt walking would be like in a\n place where gravity was no more than the faintest whisper.\nIII\n\n\n The bugs had dug a new set of holes, much after the manner of a Chinese\n checker board, and now were settling down into their respective places\n preparatory to the start of another game.\n\n\n For a mile or more across the flat surface of the rock that was Gus\n Hamilton's moss garden, ran a string of such game-boards, each one\n different, each one having served as the scene of a now-completed game.\n\n\n Oliver Meek cautiously wedged his stilts into two pitted pockets of\n rock, eased himself slowly and warily against the face of a knob of\n stone that jutted from the surface.\n\n\n Even in his youth, Meek remembered, he never had been any great shakes\n on stilts. Here, on this bucking, weaving rock, with slick surfaces and\n practically no gravity, a man had to be an expert to handle them. Meek\n knew now he was no expert. A half-dozen dents in his space armor was\n ample proof of that.\n\n\n Comfortably braced against the upjutting of stone, Meek dug into the\n pouch of his space gear, brought out a notebook and stylus. Flipping\n the pages, he stared, frowning, at the diagrams that covered them.\n\n\n None of the diagrams made sense. They showed the patterns of three\n other boards and the moves that had been made by the bugs in playing\n out the game. Apparently, in each case, the game had been finished.\n Which, Meek knew, should have meant that some solution had been\n reached, some point won, some advantage gained.\n\n\n But so far as Meek could see from study of the diagrams there was not\n even a purpose or a problem, let alone a solution or a point.\n\n\n The whole thing was squirrely. But, Meek told himself, it fitted in.\n The whole Saturnian system was wacky. The rings, for example. Debris of\n a moon smashed up by Saturn's pull? Sweepings of space? No one knew.\n\n\n Saturn itself, for that matter. A planet that kept Man at bay with\n deadly radiations. But radiations that, while they kept Man at a\n distance, at the same time served Man. For here, on the Inner Ring,\n where they had become so diluted that ordinary space armor filtered\n them out, they made possible the medical magic of the famous radiation\n moss.\n\n\n One of the few forms of plant life found in the cold of space, the\n moss was nurtured by those mysterious radiations. Planted elsewhere,\n on kindlier worlds, it wilted and refused to grow. The radiations had\n been analyzed, Meek knew, and reproduced under laboratory conditions,\n but there still was something missing, some vital, elusive factor that\n could not be analyzed. Under the artificial radiation, the moss still\n wilted and died.\n\n\n And because Earth needed the moss to cure a dozen maladies and because\n it would grow nowhere else but here on the Inner Ring, men squatted\n on the crazy swirl of spacial boulders that made up the ring. Men\n like Hamilton, living on rocks that bucked and heaved along their\n orbits like chips riding the crest of a raging flood. Men who endured\n loneliness, dared death when crunching orbits intersected or, when\n rickety spacecraft flared, who went mad with nothing to do, with the\n mockery of space before them.\n\n\n Meek shrugged his shoulders, almost upsetting himself.\nThe bugs had started the game and Meek craned forward cautiously,\n watching eagerly, stylus poised above the notebook.\n\n\n Crawling clumsily, the tiny insect-like creatures moved about, solemnly\n popping in and out of holes.\n\n\n If there were opposing sides ... and if it were a game, there'd have\n to be ... they didn't seem to alternate the moves. Although, Meek\n admitted, certain rules and conditions which he had failed to note or\n recognize, might determine the number and order of moves allowed each\n side.\n\n\n Suddenly there was confusion on the board. For a moment a half-dozen of\n the bugs raced madly about, as if seeking the proper hole to occupy.\n Then, as suddenly, all movement had ceased. And in another moment, they\n were on the move again, orderly again, but retracing their movements,\n going back several plays beyond the point of confusion.\n\n\n Just as one would do when one made a mistake working a mathematical\n problem ... going back to the point of error and going on again from\n there.\n\n\n \"Well, I'll be....\" Mr. Meek said.\n\n\n Meek stiffened and the stylus floated out of his hand, settled softly\n on the rock below.\n\n\n A mathematical problem!\n\n\n His breath gurgled in his throat.\n\n\n He knew it now! He should have known it all the time. But the mechanic\n had talked about the bugs playing games and so had Hamilton. That had\n thrown him off.\n\n\n Games! Those bugs weren't playing any game. They were solving\n mathematical equations!\n\n\n Meek leaned forward to watch, forgetting where he was. One of the\n stilts slipped out of position and Meek felt himself start to fall. He\n dropped the notebook and frantically clawed at empty space.\n\n\n The other stilt went, then, and Meek found himself floating slowly\n downward, gravity weak but inexorable. His struggle to retain his\n balance had flung him forward, away from the face of the rock and he\n was falling directly over the board on which the bugs were arrayed.\n\n\n He pawed and kicked at space, but still floated down, course unchanged.\n He struck and bounced, struck and bounced again.\n\n\n On the fourth bounce he managed to hook his fingers around a tiny\n projection of the surface. Fighting desperately, he regained his feet.\n\n\n Something scurried across the face of his helmet and he lifted his hand\n before him. It was covered with the bugs.\n\n\n Fumbling desperately, he snapped on the rocket motor of his suit, shot\n out into space, heading for the rock where the lights from the ports of\n Hamilton's shack blinked with the weaving of the rock.\n\n\n Oliver Meek shut his eyes and groaned.\n\n\n \"Gus will give me hell for this,\" he told himself.\nGus shook the small wooden box thoughtfully, listening to the frantic\n scurrying within it.\n\n\n \"By rights,\" he declared, judiciously, \"I should take this over and\n dump it in Bud's ship. Get even with him for swiping my injector.\"\n\n\n \"But you got the injector back,\" Meek pointed out.\n\n\n \"Oh, sure, I got it back,\" admitted Gus. \"But it wasn't orthodox, it\n wasn't. Just getting your property back ain't getting even. I never did\n have a chance to smack Bud in the snoot the way I should of smacked\n him. Moe talked me into it. He was the one that had the idea the\n welfare lady should go over and talk to Bud. She must of laid it on\n thick, too, about how we should settle down and behave ourselves and\n all that. Otherwise Bud never would have given her that injector.\"\n\n\n He shook his head dolefully. \"This here Ring ain't ever going to be\n the same again. If we don't watch out, we'll find ourselves being\n polite to one another.\"\n\n\n \"That would be awful,\" agreed Meek.\n\n\n \"Wouldn't it, though,\" declared Gus.\n\n\n Meek squinted his eyes and pounced on the floor, scrabbling on hands\n and knees after a scurrying thing that twinkled in the lamplight.\n\n\n \"Got him,\" yelped Meek, scooping the shining mote up in his hand.\n\n\n Gus inched the lid of the wooden box open. Meek rose and popped the bug\n inside.\n\n\n \"That makes twenty-eight of them,\" said Meek.\n\n\n \"I told you,\" Gus accused him, \"that we hadn't got them all. You better\n take another good look at your suit. The danged things burrow right\n into solid metal and pull the hole in after them, seems like. Sneakiest\n cusses in the whole dang system. Just like chiggers back on Earth.\"\n\n\n \"Chiggers,\" Meek told him, \"burrow into a person to lay eggs.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe these things do, too,\" Gus contended.\n\n\n The radio on the mantel blared a warning signal, automatically tuning\n in on one of the regular newscasts from Titan City out on Saturn's\n biggest moon.\n\n\n The syrupy, chamber of commerce voice of the announcer was shaky with\n excitement and pride.\n\n\n \"Next week,\" he said, \"the annual Martian-Earth football game will be\n played at Greater New York on Earth. But in the Earth's newspapers\n tonight another story has pushed even that famous classic of the\n sporting world down into secondary place.\"\n\n\n He paused and took a deep breath and his voice practically yodeled with\n delight.\n\n\n \"The sporting event, ladies and gentlemen, that is being talked up and\n down the streets of Earth tonight, is one that will be played here\n in our own Saturnian system. A space polo game. To be played by two\n unknown, pick-up, amateur teams down in the Inner Ring. Most of the\n men have never played polo before. Few if any of them have even seen a\n game. There may have been some of them who didn't, at first, know what\n it was.\n\n\n \"But they're going to play it. The men who ride those bucking rocks\n that make up the Inner Ring will go out into space in their rickety\n ships and fight it out. And ladies and gentlemen, when I say fight it\n out, I really mean fight it out. For the game, it seems, will be a sort\n of tournament, the final battle in a feud that has been going on in\n the Ring for years. No one knows what started the feud. It has gotten\n so it really doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that when\n men from sector Twenty-three meet those from sector Thirty-seven, the\n feud is taken up again. But that is at an end now. In a few days the\n feud will be played out to its bitter end when the ships from the Inner\n Ring go out into space to play that most dangerous of all sports, space\n polo. For the outcome of that game will decide, forever, the supremacy\n of one of the two sectors.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the language spoken on Saturn?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_1", "options": ["Martian", "English", "Binary", "Saturnese"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did people endure living on the rocks orbiting Saturn?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_2", "options": ["To mine precious metals", "To cultivate medicinally important plants", "To try to understand the game of the bugs", "To avoid detection by law enforcement"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Gus engaged in space fighting?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_3", "options": ["To conquer other rocks", "Largely to ward off boredom", "Avenging his father’s feud", "To maintain his ownership of the space bugs"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Gus and Meek?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_4", "options": ["Suspicious but tolerant", "Congenial", "Adversarial", "Romantic"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Meek’s original intention in taking to space flight?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_5", "options": ["Intellectual study of life on Saturn", "Escape", "Curiosity", "Revenge"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relative size of the space bugs?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_6", "options": ["Just too big to fit into the palm of a hand", "Larger than a loaf of bread", "The size of a horse", "About the size of a small beetle"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the likely outcome of the polo game?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_7", "options": ["Don’t know enough about their abilities to say", "Sector twenty-three wins", "Sector thirty-seven wins", "They will likely call a truce"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Miss Perkins do to organize the polo game?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_8", "options": ["Explained the glory of sport to Gus as a way to claim victories", "Had a mediation session with Bud Cranery and Gus", "Posted signs around the mechanic stops on Saturn", "Her methods were unclear"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How might the space bugs interfere with the polo game?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_9", "options": ["They may latch on and burrow holes in space ships as they fly past", "They may use their quorum sensing to rig the game to favor sector twenty-three", "They are unlikely to interfere since they don’t appear to fly through space", "They may swarm and cause navigation problems to the competitors"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Is it likely that mechanics on Saturn have much work?", "question_unique_id": "63130_PRY03TR7_10", "options": ["People generally rely on fixing their own spaceships instead of going to mechanics", "Not likely since nobody lives there and there are few visitors", "Yes, there are many navigational hazards when landing on the planet", "No, there aren’t many reasons for people to need mechanics on Saturn"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/1/3/63130//63130-h//63130-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with 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{"article_id": "63916", "set_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Conjurer of Venus", "year": 1964, "author": "Troy, Conan T.", "topic": "Adventure stories; Venus (Planet) -- Fiction; PS; Science fiction; Missing persons -- Fiction; Dreams -- Fiction", "article": "The CONJURER of VENUS\nBy CONAN T. TROY\nA world-famed Earth scientist had disappeared on Venus.\n \nWhen Johnson found him, he found too the secret to that\n \nglobe-shaking mystery—the fabulous Room of The Dreaming.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories November 1952.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe city dripped with rain. Crossing the street toward the dive,\n Johnson got rain in his eyes, his nose, and his ears. That was the way\n with the rain here. It came at you from all directions. There had been\n occasions when Johnson had thought the rain was falling straight up.\n Otherwise, how had the insides of his pants gotten wet?\n\n\n On Venus, everything came at you from all directions, it seemed to\n Johnson. Opening the door of the joint, it was noise instead of rain\n that came at him, the wild frantic beat of a Venusian rhumba, the\n notes pounding and jumping through the smoke and perfume clouded room.\n Feeling states came at him, intangible, but to his trained senses,\n perceptible emotional nuances of hate, love, fear, and rage. But mostly\n love. Since this place had been designed to excite the senses of both\n humans and Venusians, the love feelings were heavily tinged with\n straight sex. He sniffed at them, feeling them somewhere inside of him,\n aware of them but aware also that here was apprehension, and plain fear.\n\n\n Caldwell, sitting in a booth next to the door, glanced up as Johnson\n entered but neither Caldwell's facial expression or his eyes revealed\n that he had ever seen this human before. Nor did Johnson seem to\n recognize Caldwell.\n\n\n \"Is the mighty human wanting liquor, a woman or dreams?\" His voice\n was all soft syllables of liquid sound. The Venusian equivalent of a\n headwaiter was bowing to him.\n\n\n \"I'll have a tarmur to start,\" Johnson said. \"How are the dreams\n tonight?\"\n\n\n \"Ze vill be the most wonserful of all sonight. The great Unger hisself\n will be here to do ze dreaming. There is no ozzer one who has quite\n his touch at dreaming, mighty one.\" The headwaiter spread his hands\n in a gesture indicating ecstasy. \"It is my great regret that I must do\n ze work tonight instead of being wiz ze dreamers. Ah, ze great Unger\n hisself!\" The headwaiter kissed the tips of his fingers.\n\n\n \"Um,\" Johnson said. \"The great Unger!\" His voice expressed surprise,\n just the right amount of it. \"I'll have a tarmur to start but when does\n the dreaming commence?\"\n\n\n \"In one zonar or maybe less. Shall I make ze reservations for ze mighty\n one?\" As he was speaking, the headwaiter was deftly conducting Johnson\n to the bar.\n\n\n \"Not just yet,\" Johnson said. \"See me a little later.\"\n\n\n \"But certainly.\" The headwaiter was gone into the throng. Johnson was\n at the bar. Behind it, a Venusian was bowing to him. \"Tarmur,\" Johnson\n said. The green drink was set before him. He held it up to the light,\n admiring the slow rise of the tiny golden bubbles in it. To him,\n watching the bubbles rise was perhaps more important than drinking\n itself.\n\n\n \"Beautiful, aren't they?\" a soft voice said. He glanced to his right.\n A girl had slid into the stool beside him. She wore a green dress cut\n very low at the throat. Her skin had the pleasant tan recently on\n Earth. Her hair was a shade of abundant brown and her eyes were blue,\n the color of the skies of Earth. A necklace circled her throat and\n below the necklace ... Johnson felt his pulse quicken, for two reasons.\n Women such as this one had been quickening the pulse of men since the\n days of Adam. The second reason concerned her presence here in this\n place where no woman in her right mind ever came unescorted. Her eyes\n smiled up at him unafraid. Didn't she know there were men present here\n in this space port city who would snatch her bodily from the bar\n stool and carry her away for sleeping purposes? And Venusians were\n here who would cut her pretty throat for the sake of the necklace that\n circled it?\n\n\n \"They\nare\nbeautiful,\" he said, smiling.\n\n\n \"Thank you.\"\n\n\n \"I was referring to the bubbles.\"\n\n\n \"You were talking about my eyes,\" she answered, unperturbed.\n\n\n \"How did you know? I mean....\"\n\n\n \"I am very knowing,\" the girl said, smiling.\n\n\n \"Are you sufficiently knowing to be here?\"\n\n\n For an instant, as if doubt crossed her mind, the smile flickered. Then\n it came again, stronger. \"Aren't you here?\"\n\n\n Johnson choked as bubbles from the tarmur seemed to go suddenly up his\n nose. \"My dear child ...\" he sputtered.\n\n\n \"I am not a child,\" she answered with a firm sureness that left no\n doubt in his mind that she knew what she was saying. \"And my name is\n Vee Vee.\"\n\n\n \"Vee Vee? Um. That is....\"\n\n\n \"Don't you think it's a nice name?\"\n\n\n \"I certainly do. Probably the rest of it is even nicer.\"\n\n\n \"There is no more of it. Just Vee Vee. Like Topsy, I just grew.\"\n\"What the devil are you doing here on Venus and here in this place?\"\n\n\n \"Growing.\" The blue eyes were unafraid.\n\n\n Sombrely, Johnson regarded her. What was she doing here? Was she in\n the employ of the Venusians? If she was being planted on him, then\n his purpose here was suspected. He shrugged the thought aside. If his\n purpose here was suspected, there would be no point in planting a woman\n on him.\n\n\n There would only be the minor matter of slipping a knife into his back.\n\n\n In this city, as on all of Venus, humans died easily. No one questioned\n the motives of the killer.\n\n\n \"You look as if you were considering some very grave matter,\" Vee Vee\n said.\n\n\n \"Not any longer,\" he laughed.\n\n\n \"You have decided them?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Every last one of them?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, there might be one or two matters undecided somewhere, say out on\n the periphery of the galaxy. But we will solve them when we get to\n them.\" He waved vaguely toward the roof and the sky of space hidden\n behind the clouds that lay over the roof, glanced around as a man eased\n himself into an empty stool on his left. The man was Caldwell.\n\n\n \"Zlock!\" Caldwell said, to the bartender. \"Make it snappy. Gotta have\n zlock. Finest damn drink in the solar system.\" Caldwell's voice was\n thick, his tongue heavy. Johnson's eyes went back to the girl but out\n of the corner of them he watched Caldwell's hand lying on the bar. The\n fingers were beating a quick nervous tattoo on the yellow wood.\n\n\n \"I haven't seen him,\" Caldwell's fingers beat out their tattoo. \"But I\n think he is, or was, here.\"\n\n\n \"Um,\" Johnson said, his eyes on Vee Vee. \"How—\"\n\n\n \"Because that girl was asking for him,\" Caldwell's fingers answered.\n \"Watch that girl!\" Picking up the zlock, he lurched away from the bar.\n\n\n \"Your friend is not as drunk as he seems,\" Vee Vee said, watching\n Caldwell.\n\n\n \"My friend? Do you mean that drunk? I never saw him—\"\n\n\n \"Lying is one of the deadly sins.\" Her eyes twinkled at him. Under the\n merriment that danced in them there was ice. Johnson felt cold.\n\n\n \"The reservations for ze dreaming, great one?\" The headwaiter was\n bowing and scraping in front of him. \"The great one has decided, yes?\"\n\n\n \"The dreaming!\" Vee Vee looked suddenly alert. \"Of course. We must see\n the dreaming. Everyone wants to see the dreaming. We will go, won't we\n darling?\" She hooked her hand into Johnson's elbow.\n\n\n \"Certainly,\" Johnson said. The decision was made on the spur of the\n moment. That there was danger in it, he did not doubt. But there might\n be something else. And\nhe\nmight be there.\n\n\n \"Oh. But very good. Ze great Unger, you will love him!\" The headwaiter\n clutched the gold coins that Johnson extended, bowed himself out of\n sight.\n\n\n \"Say, I want to know more—\" Johnson began. His words were drowned in\n a blast of trumpets. The band that had been playing went into sudden\n silence. Waves of perfume began to flow into the place. The perfumes\n were blended, but one aroma was prominent among them, the sweet,\n cloying, soul-stirring perfume of the Dreamer.\n\n\n In the suddenly hushed place little sounds began to appear as Venusians\n and humans began to shift their feet and their bodies in anticipation\n of what was to happen.\n\n\n The trumpets flared again.\n\n\n On one side of the place, a big door began to swing slowly open. From\n beyond that slowly opening door came music, soft, muted strains that\n sounded like lutes from heaven.\n\n\n Vee Vee, her hand on Johnson's elbow, rose. Johnson stood up with\n her. He got the surprise of his life as her fingers clenched, digging\n into his muscles. Pain shot through his arm, paralyzing it and almost\n paralyzing him. He knew instantly that she was using the Karmer nerve\n block paralysis on him. His left hand moved with lightning speed, the\n tips of his fingers striking savagely against her shoulder.\n\n\n She gasped, her face whitened as pain shot through her in response to\n the thrust of his finger tips. Her hand that had been digging into his\n elbow lost its grip, dropped away and hung limp at her side. Grabbing\n it, she began to massage it.\n\n\n \"You—you—\" Hot anger and shock were in her voice. \"You're the first\n man I ever knew who could break the Karmer nerve paralysis.\"\n\n\n \"And you're the first woman who ever tried it on me.\"\n\n\n \"But—\"\n\n\n \"Shall we go watch the dreaming?\" He took the arm that still hung limp\n at her side and tucked it into his elbow.\n\n\n \"If you try to use the Karmer grip on me again I'll break your arm,\" he\n said. His voice was low but there was a wealth of meaning in it.\n\n\n \"I won't do it again,\" the girl said stoutly. \"I never make the same\n mistake twice.\"\n\n\n \"Good,\" Johnson said.\n\n\n \"The second time we break our victim's neck,\" Vee Vee said.\n\n\n \"What a sweet, charming child you—\"\n\n\n \"I told you before, I'm not a child.\"\n\n\n \"Child vampire,\" Johnson said. \"Let me finish my sentences before you\n interrupt.\"\n\n\n She was silent. A smile, struggling to appear on her face, seemed to\n say she held no malice. Her fingers tightened on Johnson's arm. He\n tensed, expecting the nerve block grip again. Instead with the tips of\n her fingers she gently patted his arm.\n\n\n \"There, there, darling, relax,\" she said. \"I know a better way to get\n you than by using the Karmer grip.\"\n\n\n \"What way?\"\n\n\n Her eyes sparkled. \"Eve's way,\" she answered.\n\n\n \"Um!\" Surprise sounded in his grunt. \"But apples don't grow on Venus.\"\n\n\n \"Eve's daughters don't use apples any more, darling. Come along.\"\n\n\n Moving toward the open door that led to the Room of the Dreaming,\n Johnson saw that Caldwell had risen and was following them. Caldwell's\n face was writhing in apprehensive agony and he was making warning\n signs. Johnson ignored them. With Vee Vee's fingers lightly patting his\n arm, they moved into the Room of the Dreaming.\nII\n\n\n It was a huge, semi-illumined room, with tier on tier of circling ramps\n rising up from an open space at the bottom. There ought to have been\n a stage there at the bottom, but there wasn't. Instead there was an\n open space, a mat, and a head rest. Up at the top of the circling ramps\n the room was in darkness, a fit hiding place for ghosts or Venusian\n werewolves. Pillows and a thick rug covered the circling ramps.\n\n\n The soul-quickening Perfume of the Dreamer was stronger here. The\n throbbing of the lutes was louder. It was Venusian music the lutes were\n playing. Human ears found it inharmonious at first, but as they became\n accustomed to it, they began to detect rhythms and melodies that human\n minds had not known existed. The room was pleasantly cool but it had\n the feel of dampness. A world that was rarely without pelting rain\n would have the feel of dampness in its dreaming rooms.\n\n\n The music playing strange harmonies in his ears, the perfume sending\n tingling feelings through his nose, Johnson entered the Room of the\n Dreamer. He suspected that other forces, unknown to him, were catching\n hold of his senses. He had been in dreaming rooms many times before but\n he had not grown accustomed to them. He wondered if any human ever\n did. A touch of chill always came over him as he crossed the threshold.\n In entering these places, it was as if some unknown nerve center\n inside the human organism was touched by something, some force, some\n radiation, some subtlety, that quite escaped radiation. He felt the\n coldness now.\n\n\n Vee Vee's fingers left off patting his arm.\n\n\n \"Do you feel it, darling?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"What is it?\"\n\n\n \"How would I know?\"\n\n\n \"Please!\" Her voice grew sharp. \"I think Johnny Johnson ought to know.\"\n\n\n \"Johnny! How do you know my name?\"\n\n\n \"Shouldn't I recognize one of Earth's foremost scientists, even if he\n is incognito on Venus?\" Her voice had a teasing quality in it.\n\n\n \"But—\"\n\n\n \"And who besides Johnny Johnson would recognize the Karmer nerve grip\n and be able to break it instantly?\"\n\n\n \"Hell—\"\n\n\n \"John Michael Johnson, known as Johnny to his friends, Earth's foremost\n expert in the field of electro-magnetic radiations within the human\n body!\" Her words were needles of icy fact, each one jabbing deeper and\n deeper into him.\n\n\n \"And how would I make certain you were Johnny Johnson, except by seeing\n if you could break the Karmer nerve grip? If you could break it, then\n there was no doubt who you were!\" Her words went on and on.\n\n\n \"Who are you?\" His words were blasts of sound.\n\n\n \"Please, darling, you are making a scene. I am sure this is the last\n thing you really want to do.\"\n\n\n He looked quickly around them. The Venusians and humans moving into\n this room seemed to be paying no attention to him. His gaze came back\n to her.\n\n\n Again she patted his arm. \"Relax, darling. Your secrets are safe with\n me.\"\n\n\n A gray color came up inside his soul. \"But—but—\" His voice was\n suddenly weak.\n\n\n The fingers on his arm were very gentle. \"No harm will come to you. Am\n I not with you?\"\n\n\n \"That's what I'm afraid of!\" he snapped at her. If he had had a\n choice, he might have drawn back. But with circumstances as they\n were—his life, Caldwell's life, possibly Vee Vee's life hung in the\n balance. Didn't she know that this was true? And as for Martin—But\n Caldwell had said that she had been asking about Martin. What\n connection did she have with that frantic human genius he sought here?\n\n\n Johnson felt his skin crawl. He moved toward a nest of cushions on\n a ramp, found a Venusian was beating him to them, deftly changed to\n another nest, found it. Vee Vee flowed to the floor on his right, moved\n cushions to make him more comfortable. She moved in an easy sort of way\n that was all flowing movement. He sat down. Someone bumped him on the\n left.\n\n\n \"Sorry, bud. Didn't mean to bump into you.\" Caldwell's voice was still\n thick and heavy. He sprawled to the floor on Johnson's left. Under\n the man's coat, Johnson caught a glimpse of a slight bulge, the zit\n gun hidden there. His left arm pressed against his own coat, feeling\n his own zit gun. Operating under gas pressure, throwing a charge of\n gas-driven corvel, the zit guns were not only almost noiseless in\n operation but they knocked out a human or a Venusian in a matter of\n seconds.\n\n\n True, the person they knocked unconscious would be all right the next\n day. For this reason, many people did not regard the zit guns as\n effective weapons, but Johnson had a fondness for them. The feel of the\n little weapon inside his coat sent a surge of comfort through him.\n\n\n The music picked up a beat, perfume seemed to flow even more freely\n through the air, the lights dimmed almost to darkness, a single bright\n spotlight appeared in the ceiling, casting a circle of brilliant\n illumination on the mat and the headrest at the bottom of the room. The\n curtain rose.\nUnger stood in the middle of the spot of light.\n\n\n Johnson felt his chest muscles contract, then relax. Vee Vee's fingers\n sought his arm, not to harm him but running to him for protection. He\n caught the flutter of her breathing. On his left, Caldwell stiffened\n and became a rock.\n\n\n Johnson had not seen Unger appear. One second the circle of light\n had been empty, the next second the Venusian, smiling with all the\n impassivity of a bland Buddha, was in the light. He weighed three\n hundred pounds if he weighed an ounce, he was clad in a long robe\n that would impede movement. He had appeared in the bright beam of the\n spotlight as if by magic.\n\n\n Vee Vee's fingers dug deeper into Johnson's arm. \"How—\"\n\n\n \"Shhh. Nobody knows.\"\n\n\n No human knew the answer to that trick. Unless perhaps Martin—\n\n\n Unger bowed. A little ripple of something that was not quite sound\n passed through the audience. Unger bowed again. He stretched himself\n flat on the mat, adjusted the rest to support his head, and apparently\n went to sleep. Johnson saw the Dreamer's eyes close, watched the chest\n take on the even, regular rhythm of sleep.\n\n\n The music changed, a slow dreamy tempo crept into it. Vee Vee's fingers\n dug at Johnson's arm as if they were trying to dig under his hide for\n protection. She was shivering. He reached for her hand, patted it. She\n drew closer to him.\n\n\n A few minutes earlier, she had been a very certain young woman, able\n to take care of herself, and handle anyone around her. Now she was\n suddenly uncertain, suddenly scared. In the Room of the Dreaming, she\n had suddenly become a frightened child looking for protection.\n\n\n \"Haven't you ever seen this before?\" he whispered.\n\n\n \"N—o.\" She shivered again. \"Oh, Johnny....\"\n\n\n Under the circle of light pouring down from the ceiling, the Dreamer\n lay motionless. Johnson found himself with the tendency to hold his\n breath. He was waiting, waiting, waiting—for what? The whole situation\n was senseless, silly, but under its apparent lack of coherence, he\n sensed a pattern. Perhaps the path to the far-off stars passed this\n way, through such scented and musical and impossible places as these\n Rooms of the Dreamers. Certainly Martin thought so. And Johnson himself\n was not prepared to disagree.\n\n\n Around him, he saw that the Venusians were already going ... going ...\n going.... Some of them were already gone. This was an old experience\n to them. They went rapidly. Humans went more slowly.\n\n\n The Venusian watchers had relaxed. They looked as if they were asleep,\n perhaps in a hypnotic trance, lulled into this state by the music\n and the perfume, and by something else. It was this something else\n that sent Johnson's thoughts pounding. The Venusians were like opium\n smokers. But he was not smoking opium. He was not in a hypnotic trance.\n He was wide awake and very much alert. He was ...\nwatching a space ship float in an endless void\n.\n\n\n As Unger had come into the spotlight, so the space ship had come into\n his vision, out of nowhere, out of nothingness. The room, the Dreamer,\n the sound of the music, the sweetness of the perfume, Vee Vee and\n Caldwell were gone. They were no longer in his reality. They were not\n in the range of his vision. It was as if they did not exist. Yet he\n knew they did exist, the memory of them, and of other things, was out\n on the periphery of his universe, perhaps of\nthe\nuniverse.\n\n\n All he saw was the space ship.\n\n\n It was a wonderful thing, perhaps the most beautiful sight he had seen\n in his life. At the sight of it, a deep glow sprang inside of him.\n\n\n Back when he had been a kid he had dreamed of flight to the far-off\n stars. He had made models of space ships. In a way, they had shaped his\n destiny, had made him what he was. They had brought him where he was\n this night, to the Dream Room of a Venusian tavern.\n\n\n The vision of the space ship floating in the void entranced and\n thrilled him. Something told him that this was real; that here and now\n he was making contact with a vision that belonged to time.\n\n\n He started to his feet. Fingers gripped his arm.\n\n\n \"Please, darling. You startled me. Don't move.\" Vee Vee's voice. Who\n was Vee Vee?\n\n\n The fingers dug into his arm. Pain came up in him. The space ship\n vanished. He looked with startled eyes at Vee Vee, at the Dream Room,\n at Unger, dreaming on the mat under the spot.\n\n\n \"You ... you startled me,\" Vee Vee whispered. She released the grip on\n his arm.\n\n\n \"But, didn't you see it?\"\n\n\n \"See what?\"\n\n\n \"The space ship!\"\n\n\n \"No. No.\" She seemed startled and a little terrified and half asleep.\n \"I ... I was watching something else. When you moved I broke contact\n with my dream.\"\n\n\n \"Your dream?\"\n\n\n He asked a question but she did not answer it. \"Sit down, darling,\n and look at your damned space ship.\" Her voice was a taut whisper of\n sound in the darkened room. Johnson settled down. A glance to his left\n told him that Caldwell was still sitting like a chunk of stone.... The\n Venusians were quiet. The music had shifted. A slow languorous beat\n of hidden drums filled the room. There was another sound present, a\n high-speed whirring. It was, somehow, a familiar sound, but Johnson had\n not heard it before in this place.\n\n\n He thought about the space ship he had seen.\n\n\n The vision would not come.\n\n\n He shook his head and tried again.\n\n\n Beside him, Vee Vee was silent, her face ecstatic, like the face of a\n woman in love.\n\n\n He tried again for the space ship.\n\n\n It would not come.\n\n\n Anger came up instead.\n\n\n Somehow he had the impression that the whirring sound which kept\n intruding into his consciousness was stopping the vision.\n\n\n So far as he could tell, he was the only one present who was not\n dreaming, who was not in a state of trance.\n\n\n His gaze went to Unger, the Dreamer....\n\n\n Cold flowed over him.\n\n\n Unger was slowly rising from the mat.\n\n\n The bland face and the body in the robe were slowly floating upward!\nIII\n\n\n An invisible force seemed to twitch at Johnson's skin, nipping it here\n and there with a multitude of tiny pinches, like invisible fleas biting\n him.\n\n\n \"This is it!\" a voice whispered in his mind. \"This is what you came to\n Venus to see. This ... this....\" The first voice went into silence.\n Another voice took its place.\n\n\n \"This is another damned vision!\" the second voice said. \"This ...\n this is something that is not real, that is not possible! No Venusian\n Dreamer, and no one else, can levitate, can defy the laws of gravity,\n can float upward toward the ceiling. Your damned eyes are tricking you!\"\n\n\n \"We are not tricking you!\" the eyes hotly insisted. \"It is happening.\n We are seeing it. We are reporting accurately to you. That Venusian\n Buddha is levitating. We, your eyes, do not lie to you!\"\n\n\n \"You lied about the space ship!\" the second voice said.\n\n\n \"We did not lie about the space ship!\" the eyes insisted. \"When our\n master saw that ship we were out of focus, we were not reporting. Some\n other sense, some other organ, may have lied, but we did not.\"\n\n\n \"I—\" Johnson whispered.\n\n\n \"I am your skin,\" another voice whispered. \"I am covered with sweat.\"\n\n\n \"We are your adrenals. We are pouring forth adrenalin.\"\n\n\n \"I am your pancreas. I am gearing you for action.\"\n\n\n \"I am your thyroid. I....\"\n\n\n A multitude of tiny voices seemed to whisper through him. It was as if\n the parts of his body had suddenly found voices and were reporting to\n him what they were doing. These were voices out of his training days\n when he had learned the names of these functions and how to use them.\n\n\n \"Be quiet!\" he said roughly.\n\n\n The little voices seemed to blend into a single chorus. \"Action,\n Master! Do something.\"\n\n\n \"Quiet!\" Johnson ordered.\n\n\n \"But hurry. We are excited.\"\n\n\n \"There is a time to be excited and a time to hurry. In this situation,\n if action is taken before the time for it—if that time ever comes—we\n can all die.\"\n\n\n \"Die?\" the chorus quavered.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Johnson said. \"Now be quiet. When the time goes we will all go\n together.\"\n\n\n The chorus went into muted silence. But just under the threshold the\n little voices were a multitude of tiny fretful pressures.\n\n\n \"I hear a whirring sound,\" his ears reported.\n\n\n \"Please!\" Johnson said.\n\n\n In the front of the room Unger floated ten feet above the floor.\n\n\n \"Master, we are not lying!\" his eyes repeated.\n\n\n \"I sweat....\" his skin began.\n\n\n \"Watch Unger!\" Johnson said.\n\n\n The Dreamer floated. If wires suspended him, Johnson could not see\n them. If any known force lifted him, Johnson could not detect that\n force. All he could say for certain was that Unger floated.\n\n\n \"Yaaah!\" The silence of a room was broken by the enraged scream of a\n Venusian being jarred out of his dream.\n\n\n \"Damn it!\" A human voice said.\n\n\n A wave as sharp as the tip of a sword swept through the room.\n\n\n Unger fell.\n\n\n He was ten feet high when he started to fall. With a bone-breaking,\n body-jarring thud, the Dreamer fell. Hard.\n\n\n There was a split second of startled silence in the Dreaming Room. The\n silence went. Voices came.\n\n\n \"Who did that?\"\n\n\n \"What happened?\"\n\n\n \"That human hidden there did it! He broke the Dreaming!\" Anger marked\n the voices. Although the language was Venusian, Johnson got most of the\n meaning. His hand dived under his coat for the gun holstered there. At\n his left, Caldwell was muttering thickly. \"What—what happened? I was\n back in the lab on Earth—\" Caldwell's voice held a plaintive note, as\n if some pleasant dream had been interrupted.\n\n\n On Johnson's right, Vee Vee seemed to flow to life. Her arms came up\n around his neck. He was instantly prepared for anything. Her lips came\n hungrily against his lips, pressed very hard, then gently drew away.\n\n\n \"What—\" he gasped.\n\n\n \"I had to do it now, darling,\" she answered. \"There may not be a later.\"\n\n\n Johnson had no time to ask her what she meant. Somewhere in the back\n of the room a human screamed. He jerked around. Back there a knot of\n Venusians were attacking a man.\n\n\n \"It's Martin!\" Caldwell shouted. \"He\nis\nhere!\"\n\n\n In Johnson's hand as he came to his feet the zit gun throbbed. He fired\n blindly at the mass of Venusians. Caldwell was firing too. The soft\n throb of the guns was not audible above the uproar from the crowd.\n Struck by the gas-driven corvel charges, Venusians were falling. But\n there seemed to be an endless number of them.\n\n\n \"Vee Vee?\" Johnson suddenly realized that she had disappeared. She had\n slid out of his sight.\n\n\n \"Vee Vee!\" Johnson's voice became a shout.\n\n\n \"To hell with the woman!\" Caldwell grunted. \"Martin's the important\n one.\"\n\n\n Zit, zit, zit, Caldwell moved toward the rear, shooting as he went.\n Johnson followed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What did Martin and Johnson have in common?", "question_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO_1", "options": ["Interest in electromagnetic studies", "They were both deceived by Vee Vee", "Colleagues at an Earth university", "Both dreamt of space ships"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Johnson’s scientific work explain The Dreaming?", "question_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO_2", "options": ["Venusians accessed electromagnetic fields humans were unable to", "Venusian dreams penetrated human minds due to their lack of telepathy", "Humans reacted to other humans dreams, but not Venusians", "His work was not explained in enough detail"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Caldwell and Johnson?", "question_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO_3", "options": ["Adversarial colleagues", "Secret lovers", "Suspicious and guarded", "Partners on a mission"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many different bars do Vee Vee and Johnson visit in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO_4", "options": ["Two", "Three", "Four", "One"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What best describes how the participants experience The Dreaming?", "question_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO_5", "options": ["Each experience the dream that Unger is having as he levitates", "Participants choose their dream contents like a video game selection", "Each have their own dream", "Participants watch, but don’t dream themselves"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many other individuals are Caldwell and Johnson working cooperatively with to find Martin in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO_6", "options": ["Zero", "Four", "Two", "One"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do Caldwell and Johnson keep in communication when they are out of sight of each other?", "question_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO_7", "options": ["Wrist phones", "Sending notes with the waiter", "They don't", "Telepathy"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How are humans generally treated on Venus?", "question_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO_8", "options": ["Humans have never visited Venus", "All humans are revered", "Treated as if they were Venusians themselves", "With little regard"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why doesn’t Johnson remember Caldwell when they see each other for the first time?", "question_unique_id": "63916_C3PEXPCO_9", "options": ["Johnson and Caldwell are both incapable of recognizing each other due to The Dreaming", "Johnson was brainwashed by Martin", "Vee Vee has infiltrated Johnson’s memories", "They are only pretending not to recognize each other"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/9/1/63916//63916-h//63916-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "63833", "set_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Jinx Ship to the Rescue", "year": 1962, "author": "Coppel, Alfred", "topic": "Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "Jinx Ship To The Rescue\nBy ALFRED COPPEL, JR.\nStand by for\nT.R.S. Aphrodite\n, butt of the Space\n\n Navy. She's got something terrific in her guts and only\n\n her ice-cold lady engineer can coax it out of her!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1948.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nBrevet Lieutenant Commander David Farragut Strykalski III of the\n Tellurian Wing, Combined Solarian Navies, stood ankle deep in the\n viscous mud of Venusport Base and surveyed his new command with a\n jaundiced eye. The hot, slimy, greenish rain that drenched Venusport\n for two-thirds of the 720-hour day had stopped at last, but now a\n miasmic fog was rising from the surrounding swampland, rolling across\n the mushy landing ramp toward the grounded spaceship. Visibility was\n dropping fast, and soon porto-sonar sets would have to be used to find\n the way about the surface Base. It was an ordinary day on Venus.\n\n\n Strike cursed Space Admiral Gorman and all his ancestors with a wealth\n of feeling. Then he motioned wearily to his companion, and together\n they sloshed through the mud toward the ancient monitor.\n\n\n The scaly bulk of the Tellurian Rocket Ship\nAphrodite\nloomed\n unhappily into the thick air above the two men as they reached the\n ventral valve. Strike raised reluctant eyes to the sloping flank of the\n fat spaceship.\n\n\n \"It looks,\" he commented bitterly, \"like a pregnant carp.\"\n\n\n Senior Lieutenant Coburn Whitley—\"Cob\" to his friends—nodded in\n agreement. \"That's our Lover-Girl ... old Aphrodisiac herself. The ship\n with the poison personality.\" Cob was the\nAphrodite's\nExecutive,\n and he had been with her a full year ... which was a record for Execs\n on the\nAphrodite\n. She generally sent them Earthside with nervous\n breakdowns in half that time.\n\n\n \"Tell me, Captain,\" continued Cob curiously, \"how does it happen\n that you of all people happened to draw this tub for a command? I\n thought....\"\n\n\n \"You know Gorman?\" queried Strykalski.\n\n\n Cob nodded. \"Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. Old Brass-bottom Gorman?\"\n\n\n \"The same.\"\n\n\n \"Well,\" Cob ran a hand over his chin speculatively, \"I know Gorman's\n a prize stinker ... but you were in command of the\nGanymede\n. And,\n after all, you come from an old service family and all that. How come\n this?\" He indicated the monitor expressively.\n\n\n Strike sighed. \"Well, now, Cob, I'll tell you. You'll be spacing with\n me and I guess you've a right to know the worst ... not that you\n wouldn't find it out anyway. I come from a long line of very sharp\n operators. Seven generations of officers and gentlemen. Lousy with\n tradition.\n\n\n \"The first David Farragut Strykalski, son of a sea-loving Polish\n immigrant, emerged from World War II a four-striper and Congressional\n Medal winner. Then came David Farragut Strykalski, Jr., and, in the\n abortive Atomic War that terrified the world in 1961, he won a United\n Nations Peace Citation. And then came David Farragut Strykalski III ...\n me.\n\n\n \"From such humble beginnings do great traditions grow. But something\n happened when I came into the picture. I don't fit with the rest of\n them. Call it luck or temperament or what have you.\n\n\n \"In the first place I seem to have an uncanny talent for saying the\n wrong thing to the wrong person. Gorman for example. And I take too\n much on my own initiative. Gorman doesn't like that. I lost the\nGanymede\nbecause I left my station where I was supposed to be running\n section-lines to take on a bunch of colonists I thought were in\n danger....\"\n\n\n \"The Procyon A people?\" asked Cob.\n\n\n \"So you've heard about it.\" Strike shook his head sadly. \"My tactical\n astrophysicist warned me that Procyon A might go nova. I left my\n routine post and loaded up on colonists.\" He shrugged. \"Wrong guess. No\n nova. I made an ass of myself and lost the\nGanymede\n. Gorman gave it\n to his former aide. I got this.\"\n\n\n Cob coughed slightly. \"I heard something about Ley City, too.\"\n\n\n \"Me again. The\nGanymede's\nwhole crew ended up in the Luna Base brig.\n We celebrated a bit too freely.\"\n\n\n Cob Whitley looked admiringly at his new Commander. \"That was the night\n after the\nGanymede\nbroke the record for the Centaurus B-Earth run,\n wasn't it? And then wasn't there something about....\"\n\n\n \"Canalopolis?\"\n\n\n Whitley nodded.\n\n\n \"That time I called the Martian Ambassador a spy. It was at a Tellurian\n Embassy Ball.\"\n\n\n \"I begin to see what you mean, Captain.\"\n\n\n \"Strike's the name, Cob.\"\n\n\n Whitley's smile was expansive. \"Strike, I think you're going to like\n our old tin pot here.\" He patted the\nAphrodite's\nnether belly\n affectionately. \"She's old ... but she's loose. And we're not likely to\n meet any Ambassadors or Admirals with her, either.\"\n\n\n Strykalski sighed, still thinking of his sleek\nGanymede\n. \"She'll\n carry the mail, I suppose. And that's about all that's expected of her.\"\n\n\n Cob shrugged philosophically. \"Better than tanking that stinking rocket\n fuel, anyway. Deep space?\"\n\n\n Strike shook his head. \"Venus-Mars.\"\n\n\n Cob scratched his chin speculatively. \"Perihelion run. Hot work.\"\n\n\n Strike was again looking at the spaceship's unprepossessing exterior.\n \"A surge-circuit monitor, so help me.\"\n\n\n Cob nodded agreement. \"The last of her class.\"\nAnd she was not an inspiring sight. The fantastically misnamed\nAphrodite\nwas a surge-circuit monitor of twenty guns built some ten\n years back in the period immediately preceding the Ionian Subjugation\n Incident. She had been designed primarily for atomics, with a\n surge-circuit set-up for interstellar flight. At least that was the\n planner's view. In those days, interstellar astrogation was in its\n formative stage, and at the time of the\nAphrodite's\nlaunching the\n surge-circuit was hailed as the very latest in space drives.\n\n\n Her designer, Harlan Hendricks, had been awarded a Legion of Merit\n for her, and every silver-braided admiral in the Fleet had dreamed\n of hoisting his flag on one of her class. There had been three. The\nArtemis\n, the\nAndromeda\n, and the prototype ... old Aphrodisiac. The\n three vessels had gone into action off Callisto after the Phobos Raid\n had set off hostilities between the Ionians and the Solarian Combine.\n\n\n All three were miserable failures.\n\n\n The eager officers commanding the three monitors had found the circuit\n too appealing to their hot little hands. They used it ... in some way,\n wrongly.\n\n\n The\nArtemis\nexploded. The\nAndromeda\nvanished in the general\n direction of Coma Berenices glowing white hot from the heat of a\n ruptured fission chamber and spewing gamma rays in all directions.\n And the\nAphrodite's\nstarboard tubes blew, causing her to spend her\n store of vicious energy spinning like a Fourth of July pinwheel under\n 20 gravities until all her interior fittings ... including crew were a\n tangled, pulpy mess within her pressure hull.\n\n\n The\nAphrodite\nwas refitted for space. And because it was an integral\n part of her design, the circuit was rebuilt ... and sealed. She became\n a workhorse, growing more cantankerous with each passing year. She\n carried personnel.... She trucked ores. She ferried skeeterboats and\n tanked rocket fuel. Now, she would carry the mail. She would lift from\n Venusport and jet to Canalopolis, Mars, without delay or variation.\n Regulations, tradition and Admiral Gorman of the Inner Planet Fleet\n required it. And it was now up to David Farragut Strykalski III to see\n to it that she did....\n\n\n The Officer of the Deck, a trim blonde girl in spotless greys saluted\n smartly as Strike and Cob stepped through the valve.\n\n\n Strike felt vaguely uncomfortable. He knew, of course, that at least a\n third of the personnel on board non-combat vessels of the Inner Planet\n Fleet was female, but he had never actually had women on board a ship\n of his own, and he felt quite certain that he preferred them elsewhere.\n\n\n Cob sensed his discomfort. \"That was Celia Graham, Strike. Ensign.\n Radar Officer. She's good, too.\"\n\n\n Strike shook his head. \"Don't like women in space. They make me\n uncomfortable.\"\n\n\n Cob shrugged. \"Celia's the only officer. But about a quarter of our\n ratings are women.\" He grinned maliciously. \"Equal rights, you know.\"\n\n\n \"No doubt,\" commented the other sourly. \"Is that why they named\n this ... ship 'Aphrodite'?\"\n\n\n Whitley saw fit to consider the question rhetorical and remained silent.\n\n\n Strike lowered his head to clear the arch of the flying-bridge\n bulkhead. Cob followed. He trailed his Captain through a jungle\n of chrome piping to the main control panels. Strike sank into an\n acceleration chair in front of the red DANGER seal on the surge-circuit\n rheostat.\n\n\n \"Looks like a drug-store fountain, doesn't it?\" commented Cob.\n\n\n Strykalski nodded sadly, thinking of the padded smoothness of the\nGanymede's\nflying-bridge. \"But she's home to us, anyway.\"\n\n\n The thick Venusian fog had closed in around the top levels of the ship,\n hugging the ports and cutting off all view of the field outside. Strike\n reached for the squawk-box control.\n\n\n \"Now hear this. All officer personnel will assemble in the flying\n bridge at 600 hours for Captain's briefing. Officer of the Deck will\n recall any enlisted personnel now on liberty....\"\n\n\n Whitley was on his feet, all the slackness gone from his manner.\n \"Orders, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"We can't do anything until the new Engineering Officer gets here.\n They're sending someone down from the\nAntigone\n, and I expect him by\n 600 hours. In the meantime you'll take over his part of the work. See\n to it that we are fueled and ready to lift ship by 602. Base will start\n loading the mail at 599:30. That's about all.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\" Whitley saluted and turned to go. At the bulkhead, he\n paused. \"Captain,\" he asked, \"Who is the new E/O to be?\"\n\n\n Strike stretched his long legs out on the steel deck. \"A Lieutenant\n Hendricks, I. V. Hendricks, is what the orders say.\"\n\n\n Cob thought hard for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. \"I. V.\n Hendricks.\" He shook his head. \"Don't know him.\"\nThe other officers of the\nT.R.S. Aphrodite\nwere in conference with\n the Captain when Cob and the girl at his side reached the flying\n bridge. She was tall and dark-haired with regular features and pale\n blue eyes. She wore a service jumper with two silver stripes on the\n shoulder-straps, and even the shapeless garment could not hide the\n obvious trimness of her figure.\n\n\n Strike's back was toward the bulkhead, and he was addressing the others.\n\n\n \"... and that's about the story. We are to jet within 28,000,000 miles\n of Sol. Orbit is trans-Mercurian hyperbolic. With Mars in opposition,\n we have to make a perihelion run and it won't be pleasant. But I'm\n certain this old boiler can take it. I understand the old boy who\n designed her wasn't as incompetent as they say. But Space Regs are\n specific about mail runs. This is important to you, Evans. Your\n astrogation has to be accurate to within twenty-five miles plus or\n minus the shortest route. And there'll be no breaking orbit. Now be\n certain that the refrigeration units are checked, Mister Wilkins,\n especially in the hydroponic cells. Pure air is going to be important.\"\n\n\n \"That's about all there is to tell you. As soon as our rather\n leisurely E/O gets here, we can jet with Aunt Nelly's postcard.\" He\n nodded. \"That's the story. Lift ship in....\" He glanced at his wrist\n chronograph, \"... in an hour and five.\"\n\n\n The officers filed out and Cob Whitley stuck his head into the room.\n \"Captain?\"\n\n\n \"Come in, Cob.\" Strike's dark brows knit at the sight of the uniformed\n girl in the doorway.\n\n\n Cob's face was sober, but hidden amusement was kindling behind his\n eyes. \"Captain, may I present Lieutenant Hendricks? Lieutenant\nI-vy\nHendricks?\"\n\n\n Strike looked blankly at the girl.\n\n\n \"Our new E/O, Captain,\" prompted Whitley.\n\n\n \"Uh ... welcome aboard, Miss Hendricks,\" was all the Captain could find\n to say.\n\n\n The girl's eyes were cold and unfriendly. \"Thank you, Captain.\" Her\n voice was like cracked ice tinkling in a glass. \"If I may have your\n permission to inspect the drives, Captain, I\nmay\nbe able to\n convince you that the designer of this vessel was not ... as you seem\n to think ... a senile incompetent.\"\n\n\n Strike was perplexed, and he showed it. \"Why, certainly ... uh ...\n Miss ... but why should you be so....\"\n\n\n The girl's voice was even colder than before as she said, \"Harlan\n Hendricks, Captain, is my father.\"\nA week in space had convinced Strike that he commanded a jinx ship.\n Jetting sunward from Venus, the cantankerous\nAphrodite\nhad burned a\n steering tube through, and it had been necessary to go into free-fall\n while Jenkins, the Assistant E/O, and a damage control party effected\n repairs. When the power was again applied, Old Aphrodisiac was running\n ten hours behind schedule, and Strike and Evans, the Astrogation\n Officer, were sweating out the unforeseen changes introduced into the\n orbital calculations by the time spent in free-fall.\n\n\n The\nAphrodite\nrumbled on toward the orbit of Mercury....\n\n\n For all the tension between the occupants of the flying-bridge, Strike\n and Ivy Hendricks worked well together. And after a second week in\n space, a reluctant admiration was replacing the resentment between\n them. Ivy spent whatever time she could spare tinkering with her\n father's pet surge-circuit and Strike began to realize that there was\n little she did not know about spaceship engineering. Then, too, Ivy\n spent a lot of time at the controls, and Strike was forced to admit\n that he had never seen a finer job of piloting done by man or woman.\n\n\n And finally, Ivy hated old Brass-bottom Gorman even more than Strike\n did. She felt that Gorman had ruined her father's career, and she was\n dedicating her life to proving her father right and Brass-bottom wrong.\n There's nothing in the cosmos to nurture friendship like a common enemy.\n\n\n At 30,000,000 miles from the sun, the\nAphrodite's\nrefrigeration\n units could no longer keep the interior of the ship at a comfortable\n temperature. The thermometer stood at 102°F, the very metal of\n the ship's fittings hot to the touch. Uniforms were discarded,\n insignia of rank vanished. The men dressed in fiberglass shorts and\n spaceboots, sweat making their naked bodies gleam like copper under the\n sodium-vapor lights. The women in the crew added only light blouses to\n their shorts ... and suffered from extra clothing.\n\n\n Strike was in the observation blister forward, when Ensign Graham\n called to say that she had picked up a radar contact sunward. The\n IFF showed the pips to be the\nLachesis\nand the\nAtropos\n. The two\n dreadnaughts were engaged in coronary research patrol ... a purely\n routine business. But the thing that made Strike curse under his breath\n was Celia Graham's notation that the\nAtropos\ncarried none other than\n Space Admiral Horatio Gorman, Cominch Inplan.\n\n\n Strike thought it a pity that old Brass-bottom couldn't fall into\n Hell's hottest pit ... and he told Ivy so.\n\n\n And she agreed.\nOld Aphrodisiac had reached perihelion when it happened. The\n thermometer stood at 135° and tempers were snapping. Cob and Celia\n Graham had tangled about some minor point concerning Lover-Girl's\n weight and balance. Ivy went about her work on the bridge without\n speaking, and Strike made no attempt to brighten her sudden depression.\n Lieutenant Evans had punched Bayne, the Tactical Astrophysicist,\n in the eye for some disparaging remark about Southern California\n womanhood. The ratings were grumbling about the food....\n\n\n And then it happened.\n\n\n Cob was in the radio room when Sparks pulled the flimsy from the\n scrambler. It was a distress signal from the\nLachesis\n. The\nAtropos\nhad burst a fission chamber and was falling into the sun.\n Radiation made a transfer of personnel impossible, and the\nAtropos\nskeeterboats didn't have the power to pull away from the looming star.\n The\nLachesis\nhad a line on the sister dreadnaught and was valiantly\n trying to pull the heavy vessel to safety, but even the thundering\n power of the\nLachesis'\nmighty drive wasn't enough to break Sol's\n deathgrip on the battleship.\n\n\n A fleet of souped-up space-tugs was on its way from Luna and Venusport,\n but they could not possibly arrive on time. And it was doubtful that\n even the tugs had the necessary power to drag the crippled\nAtropos\naway from a fiery end.\n\n\n Cob snatched the flimsy from Sparks' hands and galloped for the\n flying-bridge. He burst in and waved the message excitedly in front of\n Strykalski's face.\n\n\n \"Have a look at this! Ye gods and little catfish! Read it!\"\n\n\n \"Well, dammit, hold it still so I can!\" snapped Strike. He read the\n message and passed it to Ivy Hendricks with a shake of his head.\n\n\n She read it through and looked up exultantly. \"This is\nit\n! This is\n the chance I've been praying for, Strike!\"\n\n\n He returned her gaze sourly. \"For Gorman to fall into the sun? I recall\n I said something of the sort myself, but there are other men on those\n ships. And, if I know Captain Varni on the\nLachesis\n, he won't let go\n that line even if he fries himself.\"\n\n\n Ivy's eyes snapped angrily. \"That's not what I meant, and you know it!\n I mean this!\" She touched the red-sealed surge-circuit rheostat.\n\n\n \"That's very nice, Lieutenant,\" commented Cob drily. \"And I know that\n you've been very busy adjusting that gismo. But I seem to recall that\n the last time that circuit was uncorked everyone aboard became part of\n the woodwork ... very messily, too.\"\n\n\n \"Let me understand you, Ivy,\" said Strike in a flat voice. \"What you\n are suggesting is that I risk my ship and the lives of all of us trying\n to pull old Gorman's fat out of the fire with a drive that's blown\n skyhigh three times out of three. Very neat.\"\n\n\n There were tears bright in Ivy Hendricks' eyes and she sounded\n desperate. \"But we can save those ships! We can, I\nknow\nwe can! My\n father designed this ship! I know every rivet of her! Those idiots off\n Callisto didn't know what they were doing. These ships needed specially\n trained men. Father told them that! And I'm trained! I can take her in\n and save those ships!\" Her expression turned to one of disgust. \"Or are\n you afraid?\"\n\n\n \"Frankly, Ivy, I haven't enough sense to be afraid. But are you so\n certain that we can pull this off? If I make a mistake this time ...\n it'll be the last. For all of us.\"\n\n\n \"We can do it,\" said Ivy Hendricks simply.\n\n\n Strike turned to Cob. \"What do you say, Cob? Shall we make it hotter in\n here?\"\n\n\n Whitley shrugged. \"If you say so, Strike. It's good enough for me.\"\n\n\n Celia Graham left the bridge shaking her head. \"We'll all be dead soon.\n And me so young and pretty.\"\n\n\n Strike turned to the squawk-box. \"Evans!\"\n\n\n \"Evans here,\" came the reply.\n\n\n \"Have Sparks get a DF fix on the\nAtropos\nand hold it. We'll home on\n their carrier wave. They're in trouble and we're going after them. Plot\n the course.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain.\"\n\n\n Strike turned to Cob. \"Have the gun-crews stand by to relieve the\n black-gang in the tube rooms. It's going to get hotter than the hinges\n of hell down there and we'll have to shorten shifts.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir!\" Cob saluted and was gone.\n\n\n Strike returned to the squawk-box. \"Radar!\"\n\n\n \"Graham here,\" replied Celia from her station.\n\n\n \"Get a radar fix on the\nLachesis\nand hold it. Send your dope up to\n Evans and tell him to send us a range estimate.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain,\" the girl replied crisply.\n\n\n \"Gun deck!\"\n\n\n \"Gun deck here, sir,\" came a feminine voice.\n\n\n \"Have number two starboard torpedo tube loaded with a fish and a spool\n of cable. Be ready to let fly on short notice ... any range.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir!\" The girl switched off.\n\n\n \"And now you, Miss Hendricks.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain?\" Her voice was low.\n\n\n \"Take over Control ... and Ivy....\"\n\n\n \"Yes?\"\n\n\n \"Don't kill us off.\" He smiled down at her.\n\n\n She nodded silently and took her place at the control panel. Smoothly\n she turned old Aphrodisiac's nose sunward....\nLashed together with a length of unbreakable beryllium steel cable,\n the\nLachesis\nand the\nAtropos\nfell helplessly toward the sun. The\n frantic flame that lashed out from the\nLachesis'\ntube was fading, her\n fission chambers fusing under the terrific heat of splitting atoms.\n Still she tried. She could not desert her sister ship, nor could she\n save her. Already the two ships had fallen to within 18,000,000 miles\n of the sun's terrifying atmosphere of glowing gases. The prominences\n that spouted spaceward seemed like great fiery tentacles reaching for\n the trapped men on board the warships. The atmospheric guiding fins,\n the gun-turrets and other protuberances on both ships were beginning\n to melt under the fierce radiance. Only the huge refrigeration plants\n on the vessels made life within them possible. And, even so, men were\n dying.\n\n\n Swiftly, the fat, ungainly shape of old Aphrodisiac drew near. In her\n flying-bridge, Strike and Ivy Hendricks watched the stricken ships in\n the darkened viewport.\n\n\n The temperature stood at 140° and the air was bitter with the smell\n of hot metal. Ivy's blouse clung to her body, soaked through with\n perspiration. Sweat ran from her hair into her eyes and she gasped\n for breath in the oven hot compartment. Strike watched her with\n apprehension.\n\n\n Carefully, Ivy circled the two warships. From the starboard tube on\n the gun-deck, a homing rocket leapt toward the\nAtropos\n. It plunged\n straight and true, spilling cable as it flew. It slammed up against\n the hull, and stuck there, fast to the battleship's flank. Quickly,\n a robocrane drew it within the ship and the cable was made secure.\n Like cosmic replicas of the ancient South American \"bolas,\" the three\n spacecraft whirled in space ... and all three began that sunward plunge\n together.\nThey were diving into the sun.\nThe heat in the\nAphrodite's\nbridge was unbearable. The thermometer\n showed 145° and it seemed to Strike that Hell must be cool by\n comparison.\n\n\n Ivy fought her reeling senses and the bucking ship as the slack came\n out of the cable. Blackness was flickering at the edges of her field\n of vision. She could scarcely lift her hand to the red-sealed circuit\n rheostat. Shudderingly, she made the effort ... and failed. Conscious,\n but too spent to move, she collapsed over the blistering hot instrument\n panel.\n\n\n \"\nIvy!\n\" Strike was beside her, cradling her head in his arm.\n\n\n \"I ... I ... can't make it ... Strike. You'll ... have to run ... the\n show ... after ... all.\"\n\n\n Strike laid her gently in an acceleration chair and turned toward the\n control panel. His head was throbbing painfully as he broke the seal on\n the surge-circuit.\n\n\n Slowly he turned the rheostat. Relays chattered. From deep within\n old Lover-Girl's vitals came a low whine. He fed more power into the\n circuit. Cadmium rods slipped into lead sheaths decks below in the\n tube-rooms. The whining rose in pitch. The spinning of the ships in\n space slowed. Stopped. With painful deliberation, they swung into line.\n\n\n More power. The whine changed to a shriek. A banshee wail.\n\n\n Cob's voice came through the squawk-box, soberly. \"Strike, Celia's\n fainted down here. We can't take much more of this heat.\"\n\n\n \"We're trying, Cob!\" shouted Strike over the whine of the circuit. The\n gauges showed the accumulators full. \"\nNow!\n\" He spun the rheostat to\n the stops, and black space burst over his brain....\n\n\n The last thing he remembered was a voice. It sounded like Bayne's. And\n it was shouting. \"We're moving 'em! We're pulling away! We're....\" And\n that was all.\n\n\n The space-tug\nScylla\nfound them.\n\n\n The three ships ...\nAtropos\n,\nLachesis\n, and old Aphrodisiac ...\n lashed together and drifting in space. Every man and woman aboard out\n cold from the acceleration, and\nAphrodite's\ntanks bone dry. But they\n were a safe 80,000,000 miles from Sol....\nThe orchestra was subdued, the officer's club softly lighted. Cob\n leaned his elbow on the bar and bent to inspect the blue ribbon of the\n Spatial Cross on Strike's chest. Then he inspected his own and nodded\n with tipsy satisfaction. He stared out at the Martian night beyond the\n broad windows and back again at Strike. His frown was puzzled.\n\n\n \"All right,\" said Strike, setting down his glass. \"What's on your mind,\n Cob? Something's eating you.\"\n\n\n Whitley nodded very slowly. He took a long pull at his highball. \"I\n understand that you goofballed your chances of getting the\nGanymede\nback when Gorman spoke his piece to you....\"\n\n\n \"All I said to him....\"\n\n\n \"I know. I know what you said ... and it won't bear repeating. But\n you're not fooling me. You've fallen for old Lover-Girl and you don't\n want to leave her. Ver-ry commendable. Loyal! Stout fellah! But what\n about Ivy?\"\n\n\n \"Ivy?\"\n\n\n Cob looked away. \"I thought that you and she ... well, I thought that\n when we got back ... well....\"\n\n\n Strike shook his head. \"She's gone to the Bureau of Ships with a\n designing job.\"\n\n\n Cob waved an expressive arm in the air. \"But dammit, man, I thought....\"\n\n\n \"The answer is\nno\n. Ivy's a nice girl ... but....\" He paused and\n sighed. \"Since she was promoted to her father's old rank ... well....\"\n He shrugged. \"Who wants a wife that ranks you?\"\n\n\n \"Never thought of that,\" mused Cob. For a long while he was silent;\n then he pulled out an address book and leafed through until he came to\n the pages marked \"Canalopolis, Mars.\"\n\n\n And he was gratified to see that Lieutenant Commander David Farragut\n Strykalski III was doing the same.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does the Captain decide to save Gorman?", "question_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H_1", "options": ["He sees that they could be good business partners", "Gorman is Ivy’s father and she pleads to save him", "He has a sense of duty to not let innocent people die", "He prefers their ship to his own"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How are the events of the story best summated?", "question_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H_2", "options": ["A delivery ship discovers and saves two other ships", "A passenger ship transiting Earth - Venus accidentally starts falling into the sun", "Strike’s ship breaks down and has to be rescued from being pulled into the sun", "A war ship disguised as a cargo ship changes course and saves lives from pulling into sun’s gravity"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do Cob and Strike come to appreciate women of rank through the story?", "question_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H_3", "options": ["They vow to have more women working in their teams", "They choose to work on Aphrodite permanently", "Their minds aren’t changed ", "They take on understudies to further promote equality"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Strike and Cob?", "question_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H_4", "options": ["They have known each other through their last assignment", "They meet during the course of the story and become easy friends", "They meet during the course of the story, but begin apprehensive of each other", "They never actually meet in the story"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is a day 720 hours long?", "question_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H_5", "options": ["The day length is set such that their mission only takes one day to increase morale", "Day length is dependent on the solar system the ship is in", "A day is equivalent to a month at the speed they travel", "It’s not known"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the general mood during space flight aboard the Aphrodite?", "question_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H_6", "options": ["Many things are going wrong", "It got very cold on the ship when the generators went out, ruining morale", "The crew mutinies under the leadership of the Captain", "The trip is smooth sailing"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many return trips does Aphrodite complete during the story?", "question_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H_7", "options": ["Zero", "Two ", "One", "Three"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What convinces the Captain to have confidence in I.V. Hendricks?", "question_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H_8", "options": ["The Captain never gains confidence in Hendricks", "The Captain always believed in her abilities due to her excellent reputation", "Hendricks’ father built the ship and trained her on it", "Hendricks had proven her abilities over years working with the Captain"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do most goods travel between planets in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63833_V187YO4H_9", "options": ["Teleportation", "Mail spaceship", "There is no interplanetary cargo", "It is launched into perihelion orbit paths in robotically driven pods"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/3/63833//63833-h//63833-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20002", "set_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "The Absurdity of Family Love", "year": "1997", "author": "Robert Wright", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "The Absurdity of Family Love \n\n         Don't get me wrong. Kids are great. I have some, and I adore them. Every Christmas I become a slave to my camcorder. Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow, and so on. But now that the radiance of the yuletide season is fading, it's time to confront a sobering scientific truth: The more you think about the biology of parental love, the more absurd it seems. The same goes for love of kin generally--brothers, sisters, nephews, etc. \n\n         Readers familiar with my obsessions may fear that this column is just another attempt to spoil everyone's fun, to replace the beautiful mystery of life with ugly Darwinian clarity. Actually, what I hope to dispel isn't pre-Darwinian mystery, but a kind of post-Darwinian mysticism, a confused exaltation of genetic affinity. You see the confusion when biological parents invoke \"blood ties\" to reclaim a child from adoptive parents. You see it when opponents of cross-ethnic adoption argue--as in a New York Times op-ed piece a few months ago--that we must respect \"the strength of the biological and cultural ties that Indian tribes can offer their own children.\" In a sense, you see it every year around Christmas, when people pay lip service to the idea of universal brotherhood but believe in their hearts that it's ridiculous, that truly loving people to whom you aren't related violates some law of nature. \n\n         Thanks to the biologist William Hamilton, it is now clear why people feel brotherly love in the literal sense--and sisterly love, maternal love, and paternal love. It's all due to the operation of \"kin selection\" during evolution. A greatly oversimplified textbook example: Two million years ago, two hominids, Loveless Bob and Loving Bob, stand on two different riverbanks, in identical situations. Each is watching his full sibling Bill drown. Loving Bob has a gene inclining him to love his brother and thus jump in the raging river, even though his risk of dying is 10 percent. Loveless Bob has no such gene, and thus stands on the bank wondering whether his brother's corpse will attract any large, edible fish. Which Bob's genes will survive the Darwinian reaper--genes for love or for cold indifference? \n\n         Love triumphs. True, there's a one-in-10 chance that the love gene will sink along with Loving Bob. But consider the upside. There's a one-in-two chance that Bob's full sibling Bill has the same gene and, thus, that a successful rescue mission will pluck an otherwise doomed copy of the gene from the dustbin of history. Do the math, and you'll see that, over time, Loving Bobs send more genes to posterity than Loveless Bobs. As love genes spread at the expense of indifference genes, Loveless Bobs slowly become extinct. Die, selfish scum! Genes for sibling love come to permeate our species--as, in fact, they now do. So do genes for maternal love and paternal love. All brought to you by kin selection. \n\n         As modern Darwinism gets popularized, the basic idea of kin selection is approaching the status of conventional wisdom. So are some attendant misconceptions. \n\n          Misconception No. 1: Genes are smart . People often assume that kin-selected altruism is foolproof; that a gene can magically sense copies of itself in other organisms--or, at least, can somehow ascertain with perfect accuracy which organisms are close relatives of its own host organism and thus may carry copies of itself. In truth, genes aren't omniscient, or even sentient. If kin-selected genes are going to induce love of kin, they'll have to determine who qualifies as kin in some pedestrian and probably fallible way. \n\n         For example: Back when Loving Bob was 6 years old, if his mother was nursing some infant named Bill and sleeping by its side every night, there's a very good chance that Bill was Bob's sibling. So a gene disposing Bob to love children whom he sees his mother nurturing could spread through the population until everyone obeys the same rule. But this rule would misfire now and then, when a mother is for some reason nurturing a non-offspring. It's just that the misfiring wouldn't happen often enough to greatly dilute the genetic math favoring the gene's proliferation. \n\n         Little is known about which rules for identifying kin--\"kin-recognition mechanisms\"--do operate in our species. But clearly, they are fallible. Even mothers, who you'd think would have a damn good idea of who their offspring are, can in principle be fooled. When hospital staffers for some reason handed hours-old Kimberly Mays to a mother who was not hers, the mother's kin-recognition mechanisms--a k a bonding processes--kicked in. This woman wound up loving Kimberly like a daughter (though the mother died two years later, so that Kimberly was reared mostly by a stepmother). Meanwhile, Kimberly's genetic mother, having missed years of bonding, can never love Kimberly quite like her own child, even though Kimberly is her own child. Because genetic relationship per se doesn't matter. \n\n         This irrelevance of genes is why surrogate motherhood is so messy. Even when, thanks to in vitro fertilization, the birth mother is unrelated to the fetus she carries, she will, upon giving birth, fall in love with the child. During evolution, after all, having a baby come out of your womb was reasonably strong evidence of kinship. The power of the hormones that govern this bonding is familiar to anyone who has watched a woman clutch her just-born child and turn into a love-drunk cuddle-bunny. (When my wife went through this magic moment, I briefly considered snatching the baby and replacing it with an 8-by-10 glossy of myself.) This hormonal power was also observed by researchers studying oxytocin, a hormone that's present in human and other mammalian mothers at birth. The researchers put it in a syringe and used it to shatter all previous records for cuddling among laboratory rats. By the way, the synthetic version of oxytocin, Pitocin, is what doctors use to induce labor. \n\n          Misconception No. 2: People are smart--or, at least, they are smart Darwinian robots . Darwinian theory does posit that homo sapiens were \"designed\" to get their genes into the next generation, but not that they were designed to do so consciously and rationally. As surrogate mothers have proved, knowing that you've given no genes to an infant needn't stop the bonding process. Thus, \"kin- recognition mechanism\" is a doubly misleading term--first because, as we've seen, the mechanism doesn't positively identify kin, but just identifies factors correlated with kinship; and second because people aren't really aware of doing the identifying. We don't think, \"There's strong evidence that she's my daughter, so I adore her.\" More like, \"God but my daughter's adorable.\" \n\n         It is good news for adoptive parents that neither genetic relationship nor conscious awareness of genetic relationship is a prerequisite for love. Still, it is bad news that maternal bonding begins with hormones at birth. It is also bad news that breast-feeding, which adoptive mothers usually can't do, releases the bonding hormone oxytocin. Then again, there is no reason in principle that adoptive parents couldn't take Pitocin once a day for synthetic bonding sessions. (Oxytocin seems to be part of the bonding formula in men, too.) Besides, some genetic mothers aren't conscious at birth, and many don't breast-feed, yet they all nonetheless wind up loving their kids. As the many successful adoptive parents know, lots of the magic moments that add up to durabonding have nothing to do with birthing or breast-feeding. (Tiny tots, with their eyes all aglow ... ) \n\n         Anyway, the main point is that when genetic parents give up a child for adoption and have second thoughts weeks, months, or even years later, their appeals to blood ties should count for zilch. Their love of their child, and their child's love of them, depends not on genetic math but on a long and complex chain of bonding, much of which they have already voluntarily missed out on. \n\n         Similarly, the idea that Native American babies, or black babies, or whatever, have some mystical genetic affinity with their \"own\" kind is silly. Obviously, cross-ethnic adoption is dicey. It draws sidelong glances and playground taunts, and it may give the adopted child an identity crisis. But it won't do this because of some ancestral memory in the genes. As attitudes change, cross-ethnic adoption will get easier; and as cross-ethnic adoption gets more common, attitudes will change. (There are other pop-genetics arguments against cross-ethnic adoption, and against adoption in general. One is that genes influence personality so powerfully that mixing unrelated siblings is like mixing oil and water. This idea is .) \n\n          Misconception No. 3: Our genes, though perhaps not real smart, aren't downright stupid . Here we come, at last, to the true absurdity of familial love. As we've seen, the genes that sponsor it flourished by encouraging an \"altruism\" that was, in fact, self-serving at the genetic level (the inexorable triumph of Loving Bob's genes). As we've also seen, these genes can be \"fooled\" into encouraging altruism toward non-kin, altruism that presumably is not self-serving at the genetic level. Still, you might argue, in defense of your genes, they usually direct familial love toward genuine kin, and thus usually succeed in being efficiently selfish. Wrong! When genes confine altruism to kin, and deny it to needy non-kin, they are in fact failing spectacularly to be efficiently selfish. Because nowadays, copies of these genes do reside in non-kin--in your next-door neighbor and, for that matter, your worst enemy. After all, the Darwinian logic behind love of kin was so relentless that these genes permeated our entire species! Loveless Bob is extinct, remember? \n\n         You can be forgiven for doubting my logic. People like me, in writing about kin selection, often talk about full siblings sharing \"half their genes,\" implying that nonrelatives share none. But in truth, you share virtually all your genes with any randomly selected homo sapien on any continent. What people like me really mean is that full siblings share half of any genes that are newly minted--genes that have recently arisen and on which natural selection is just starting to pass judgment. Genes that natural selection fully endorsed long ago--the basic genes for hunger, for lust, for familial love--are in everyone. So genes that originally flourished by bestowing love with discerning selfishness--by discriminating against people not containing copies of themselves--now, having spread through the species, discriminate against people who do contain copies! You may doubt that natural selection, a process that supposedly maximizes genetic selfishness, could fail so abjectly to do so. But it's true. . \n\n         So this past holiday season, as you rushed to buy presents for your kids or your siblings or your nieces or nephews, impelled by \"selfishly\" altruistic genes, you were operating under flawed Darwinian logic. These \"selfish\" genes could do just as much for themselves by encouraging you to instead spend your money on the beggar outside the department store. In fact, they could do more, since the beggar is closer to perishing than your relatives are. (Also, the beggar might buy something useful such as food, as opposed to a hair-eating Cabbage Patch doll.) But our genes are too stupid to so deftly serve their own welfare. \n\n         Not that I attach much weight to what is and isn't \"good\" from the standpoint of genetic self-interest. As virtually all ethical philosophers who have pondered the matter agree, it doesn't make sense to model our moral values on the logic of nature anyway; to infer ought from is --to commit the \"naturalistic fallacy\"--only leads to moral confusion. For example, you might, after observing the natural behavior of praying mantises, be tempted to conclude that it is morally good for females to eat males after sex--and this, I submit, would be a repugnant and wrongheaded doctrine! (Though slightly less repugnant than the idea of eating males before the sex.) \n\n         Most people implicitly recognize the naturalistic fallacy in some contexts. They sense that there's something visceral about, say, malice; yet they'll tell you (when not in its thrall) that they disapprove of it. It's obvious, they believe, that the natural strength of hatred is not a good thing. They're right. What is equally right, but a bit less obvious, is that the \"natural\" limits of love aren't necessarily good either. And, on close inspection, these limits turn out not to be all that rigorously \"natural\" anyway.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does the author describe to be a confusing element of the debate on the kin-selection genetic principle?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_1", "options": ["Traits for kinship did not persist into modern day", "Humans didn’t understand genetics in early evolution", "Humans are capable of treating anyone as kin", "Kin-selection would not have benefitted early humans"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author compare the importance of genetic relationship and bonding?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_2", "options": ["Genetic relation and bonding are equally important to human capacity of love", "Human capacity to love depends on genetic relation", "Bonding is more important to human capacity to love than genetic relationship", "There is no relationship between bonding and capacity to love"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What argument does the author make about why modern humans are genetically selfish?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_3", "options": ["Supporting our immediate blood relatives doesn’t help our familial genes persist to the next generation", "Modern humans do not share most of their genes in common, making them selfish", "We fail to see that all modern humans share most of their genes in common, thus, helping any human is helping our genes pass on even if they are unrelated", "Being genetically selfish still helps altruism pass on through modern humans"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the author’s thesis?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_4", "options": ["Limiting love to those you are directly genetically related to is nonsensical from both ethical and genetic selection perspectives", "Human evolution depended on naturalistic fallacy", "Limiting love to those you a genetically related to is important to modern humans", "Humans would evolve faster if kinship was universal"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What weight does the author give to the importance of kin-selection earlier in human evolution?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_5", "options": ["Early humans had no familial bond with kin, disrupting kin-selection through human evolution", "Traits of kinship were important to familial genetics being passed on, thus kinship was also selected for in early human evolution", "Kin-selection was never all that important to human evolution because altruism would have always been in human DNA", "Traits of kinship would be detrimental to familial genetics being passed on"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who are genetically considered “kin”?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_6", "options": ["Full siblings", "All humans", "Adoptive children and full siblings", "Friends"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to the author, how has the importance of kin-selection changed over human evolution?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_7", "options": ["Kin-selection is more important now than ever before", "There has been no change to the importance of kin-selection over human evolution", "Helping your kin continues to be important to pass along traits of kinship through the population as a whole", "Traits for kinship are throughout the entire human population now, thus supporting only kin is less important in the modern world for kinship to persist"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is revealed about the credentials of the author through the piece?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_8", "options": ["Credentials not discussed", "They are a professor of genetics", "They are a genetics enthusiast", "They are a news reporter who interviewed subject matter experts"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author layer ethics into the discussion of kinship?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_9", "options": ["Humans have never considered natural behavior in animals to be unethical ", "Just because a behavior is natural to animals does not mean it is considered ethical", "Natural behaviors in the animal kingdom always lead humans to do what is ethically “good”", "The ethics discussion is unrelated to the kinship arguments"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Does the author argue that ethics or kinship are more important to modern humans?", "question_unique_id": "20002_GO5OYJJA_10", "options": ["No comparative argument is made", "The author posits that kinship and ethics are equally important", "The author posits that kinship is much more important, and natural behaviors explain the ethics", "The author posits that ethical treatment of all humans regardless of kin-status is most important"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "60412", "set_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Rx", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "Physicians -- Fiction; Medical fiction; Short stories; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; PS; Science fiction", "article": "R\n X\nBY ALAN E. NOURSE\nThe tenth son of a tenth son was very\n \nsick, but it was written that he would\n \nnever die. Of course, it was up to the\n \nEarth doctor to see that he didn't!\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThey didn't realize they were in trouble until it was too late to stop\n it. The call from Morua II came in quite innocently, relayed to the\n ship from HQ in Standard GPP Contract code for crash priority, which\n meant Top Grade Planetary Emergency, and don't argue about it, fellows,\n just get there, fast. Red Doctor Sam Jenkins took one look at the\n flashing blinker and slammed the controls into automatic; gyros hummed,\n bearings were computed and checked, and the General Practice Patrol\n ship\nLancet\nspun in its tracks, so to speak, and began homing on the\n call-source like a hound on a fox. The fact that Morua II was a Class\n VI planet didn't quite register with anybody, just then.\n\n\n Ten minutes later the Red Doctor reached for the results of the Initial\n Information Survey on Morua II, and let out a howl of alarm. A single\n card sat in the slot with a wide black stripe across it.\n\n\n Jenkins snapped on the intercom. \"Wally,\" he yelped. \"Better get up\n here fast.\"\n\n\n \"Trouble?\" said the squawk-box, sleepily.\n\n\n \"Oh, brother,\" said Jenkins. \"Somebody's cracked the Contract Code or\n something.\"\n\n\n A moment later a tall sleepy man in green undershorts appeared at\n the control room, rubbing his eyes. \"What happened?\" he said. \"We've\n changed course.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah. Ever hear of Morua II?\"\n\n\n Green Doctor Wally Stone frowned and scratched his whiskered chin.\n \"Sounds familiar, but I can't quite tune in. Crash call?\" His eye\n caught the black-striped card. \"Class VI planet ... a plague spot! How\n can we get a crash-call from\nthis\n?\"\n\n\n \"You tell me,\" said Jenkins.\n\n\n \"Wait a minute. Seems to me there was some sort of nasty business—\"\n\n\n Jenkins nodded heavily. \"There sure was. Five successive attempts\n to establish a Contract with them, and five times we got thrown out\n bodily. The last time an Earth ship landed there half the crew was\n summarily shot and the others came home with their ears cut off. Seems\n the folks on Morua II didn't want a Contract with Hospital Earth. And\n they're still in the jungle, as far as their medicine goes. Witch\n doctors and spells.\" He tossed the Info-card down the chute with a\n growl. \"So now we have an emergency call from them in a Contract code\n they couldn't possibly know.\"\n\n\n The surgeon in the green undershorts chewed his lip. \"Looks like\n somebody in that last crew spilled the beans before they shot him.\"\n\n\n \"Obviously.\"\n\n\n \"Well, what are we doing on automatics? We're not\ngoing\nthere, are\n we?\"\n\n\n \"What else? You know the law. Instantaneous response to any\n crash-priority call, regardless of circumstances—\"\n\n\n \"Law be damned,\" Stone cried. \"File a protest with HQ. Cancel the\n course bearings and thumb our noses at them!\"\n\n\n \"And spend the next twenty years scrubbing test tubes.\" Jenkins shook\n his head. \"Sorry, it took me too long to get aboard one of these tubs.\n We don't do that in the General Practice Patrol, remember? I don't know\n how Morua II got the code, but they got it, and that's all the farther\n we're supposed to think. We answer the call, and beef about it later.\n If we still happen to be around later, that is.\"\nIt had always been that way. Since the first formal Medical Service\n Contract had been signed with Deneb III centuries before, Hospital\n Earth had laboriously built its reputation on that single foundation\n stone: immediate medical assistance, without question or hesitation,\n whenever and wherever it was required, on any planet bound by Contract.\n That was the law, for Hospital Earth could not afford to jeopardize a\n Contract.\n\n\n In the early days of galactic exploration, of course, Medical Services\n was only a minor factor in an expanding commercial network that drew\n multitudes of planets into social and economic interdependence; but\n in any growing civilization division of labor inevitably occurs.\n Other planets outstripped Earth in technology, in communications, in\n transport, and in production techniques—but Earth stood unrivaled in\n its development of the biological sciences. Wherever an Earth ship\n landed, the crew was soon rendering Medical Services of one sort or\n another, whether they had planned it that way or not. On Deneb III\n the Medical Service Contract was formalized, and Hospital Earth came\n into being. Into all known corners of the galaxy ships of the General\n Practice Patrol were dispatched—\"Galactic Pill Peddlers\" forging a\n chain of Contracts from Aldebaran to Zarn, accepting calls, diagnosing\n ills, arranging for proper disposition of whatever medical problems\n they came across. Serious problems were shuttled back to Hospital Earth\n without delay; more frequently the GPP crews—doctors of the Red and\n Green services, representing the ancient Earthly arts of medicine and\n surgery—were able to handle the problems on the spot and by themselves.\n\n\n It was a rugged service for a single planet to provide, and it was\n costly. Many planets studied the terms of Contract and declined,\n pleasantly but firmly—and were assured nevertheless that GPP ships\n would answer an emergency call if one was received. There would be a\n fee, of course, but the call would be answered. And then there were\n other planets—places such as Morua II....\n\n\n The\nLancet\nhomed on the dismal grey planet with an escort of eight\n ugly fighter ships which had swarmed up like hornets to greet her. They\n triangled her in, grappled her, and dropped her with a bone-jarring\n crash into a landing slot on the edge of the city. As Sam Jenkins and\n Wally Stone picked themselves off the bulkheads, trying to rearrange\n the scarlet and green uniforms of their respective services, the main\n entrance lock burst open with a squeal of tortured metal. At least a\n dozen Moruans poured into the control room—huge bearlike creatures\n with heavy grey fur ruffing out around their faces like thick hairy\n dog collars. The one in command strode forward arrogantly, one huge\n paw leveling a placer-gun with a distinct air of business about it.\n \"Well, you took long enough!\" he roared, baring a set of yellow fangs\n that sent shivers up Jenkins' spine. \"Fourteen hours! Do you call that\n speed?\"\n\n\n Jenkins twisted down the volume on his Translator with a grimace.\n \"You're lucky we came at all,\" he said peevishly. \"Where's your\n Contract? Where did you get the Code?\"\n\n\n \"Bother the Contract,\" the Moruan snarled. \"You're supposed to be\n physicians, eh?\" He eyed them up and down as though he disapproved of\n everything that he saw. \"You make sick people well?\"\n\n\n \"That's the general idea.\"\n\n\n \"All right.\" He poked a hairy finger at a shuttle car perched outside.\n \"In there.\"\n\n\n They were herded into the car with three guards in front and three\n behind. A tunnel gulped them into darkness as the car careened madly\n into the city. For an endless period they pitched and churned through\n blackness—then suddenly emerged into a high, gilded hall with pale\n sunlight filtering down. From the number of decorated guards, and\n the scraping and groveling that went on as they were hurried through\n embattled corridors, it seemed likely they were nearing the seat of\n government. Finally a pair of steel doors opened to admit them to\n a long, arched hallway. Their leader, who was called Aguar by his\n flunkies, halted them with a snarl and walked across to the tall figure\n guarding the far door. The guard did not seem pleased; he wore a long\n purple cap with a gold ball on the end which twitched wildly as their\n whispered conference devolved into growling and snarling. Finally\n Aguar motioned them to follow, and they entered the far chamber, with\n Purple-Hat glaring at them malignantly as they passed.\n\n\n Aguar halted them at the door-way. \"His Eminence will see you,\" he\n growled.\n\n\n \"Who is His Eminence?\" Jenkins asked.\n\n\n \"The Lord High Emperor of All Morua and Creator of the Galaxies,\" Aguar\n rumbled. \"He is the Tenth Son of a Tenth Son, and it is written that he\n can never die. When you enter, bow,\" he added.\n\n\n The Tenth Son of a Tenth Son couldn't have cared less whether they\n bowed or not. The room was dark and rank with the smell of sickness. On\n a pallet in the center lay a huge Moruan, panting and groaning. He was\n wrapped like a mummy in bedclothes of scarlet interwoven with gold; on\n either side of the bed braziers flickered with sickly greenish light.\n\n\n His Eminence looked up at them from bloodshot eyes and greeted them\n with a groan of anguish that seemed to roll up from the soles of his\n feet. \"Go away,\" he moaned, closing his eyes again and rolling over\n with his back toward them.\n\n\n The Red Doctor blinked at his companion, then turned to Aguar. \"What\n illness is this?\" he whispered.\n\n\n \"He is afflicted with a Pox, as any fool can see. All others it\n kills—but His Eminence is the Tenth Son of a Tenth Son, and it is\n written—\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, I know. He can never die.\" Sam gave Wally a sour look. \"What\n happens, though, if he just up and does?\"\n\n\n Aguar's paw came down with a clatter on the hilt of his sword. \"\nHe\n does not die.\nWe have you here now. You are doctors, you say. Cure\n him.\"\n\n\n They walked to the bedside and lifted back the covers. Jenkins took a\n limp paw in his hand. He finally found a palpable pulse just below the\n second elbow joint. It was fast and thready. The creature's skin bagged\n loosely from his arm.\n\"Looks like His Eminence can't read,\" Wally muttered. \"He's going fast,\n Doc.\"\n\n\n Jenkins nodded grimly. \"What does it look like to you?\"\n\n\n \"How should I know? I've never seen a healthy Moruan before, to say\n nothing of a sick one. It looks like a pox all right.\"\n\n\n \"Probably a viremia of some sort.\" Jenkins went over the great groaning\n hulk with inquiring fingers.\n\n\n \"If it's a viremia, we're cooked,\" Stone whispered. \"None of the drugs\n cross over—and we won't have time to culture the stuff and grow any\n new ones—\"\n\n\n Jenkins turned to Aguar. \"How long has this gone on?\"\n\n\n \"For days,\" the Moruan growled. \"He can't speak. He grows hot and\n cannot eat. He moans until the Palace trembles.\"\n\n\n \"What about your own doctors?\"\n\n\n Aguar spat angrily on the floor. \"They are jealous as cats until\n trouble comes. Then they hide in the caves like chickens. See the\n green flames? Death flames. They leave him here to die. But now that\n is all over. We have heard about you wizards from Hospital Earth. You\n cure all, the stories say. You are very wise, they say. You balance\n the humors and drive forth the spirits of the Pox like devils.\" He\n gave them a terrible grin and tightened his hand on the gold-encrusted\n sword. \"Now we see.\"\n\n\n \"We can't promise,\" Jenkins began. \"Sometimes we're called too\n late—but perhaps not in this case,\" he added hastily when he saw the\n Moruan's face. \"Tenth Son and all that. But you'll have to give us\n freedom to work.\"\n\n\n \"What kind of freedom?\"\n\n\n \"We'll need supplies and information from our ship. We'll have to\n consult your physicians. We'll need healthy Moruans to examine—\"\n\n\n \"But you will cure him,\" Aguar said.\n\n\n Jenkins took a deep breath and gripped his red tunic around his throat\n tightly. \"Sure, sure,\" he said weakly. \"You just watch us.\"\n\"But what do you think we're going to do?\" the surgeon wailed, back\n in the control room of the\nLancet\n. \"Sam, we can't\ntouch\nhim. If\n he didn't die naturally we'd kill him for sure! We can't go near him\n without a Bio-survey—look what happened on Baron when they tried it!\n Half the planetary population wiped out before they realized that the\n antibiotic was more deadly to the race than the virus was....\"\n\n\n \"Might not be such a bad idea for Morua,\" the Red Doctor muttered\n grimly. \"Well, what did you expect me to do—politely refuse? And\n have our throats slit right on the spot?\" He grabbed a pad and began\n scribbling. \"We've got to do\nsomething\njust to keep alive for a\n while.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah,\" said Wally. \"What, for instance?\"\n\n\n \"Well, we've got a little to go on just from looking at them. They're\n oxygen-breathers, which means they manage internal combustion of\n carbohydrates, somehow. From the grey skin color I'd guess at a cuprous\n or stannous heme-protein carrying system. They're carnivores, but god\n knows what their protein metabolism is like—Let's get going on some of\n these specimens Aguar has rounded up for us.\"\n\n\n They dug in frantically. Under normal conditions a GPP ship would\n send in a full crew of technicians to a newly-Contracted planet to\n make the initial Bio-survey of the indigenous races. Bio-chemists,\n physiologists, anatomists, microbiologists, radiologists—survey\n workers from every Service would examine and study the new clients,\n take them apart cell by cell to see what made them tick.\n\n\n Certain basic principles were always the same, a fact which accelerated\n the program considerably. Humanoid or not, all forms of life had basic\n qualities in common. Biochemical reactions were biochemical reactions,\n whether they happened to occur in a wing-creature of Wolf IV or a\n doctor from Sol III. Anatomy was a broad determinant: a jelly-blob from\n Deneb I with its fine skein of pulsating nerve fibrils was still just\n a jelly-blob, and would never rise above the level of amoeboid yes-no\n response because of its utter lack of organization. But a creature\n with an organized central nervous system and a functional division of\n work among organ systems could be categorized, tested, studied, and\n compared, and the information used in combating native disease. Given\n no major setbacks, and full cooperation of the natives, the job only\n took about six months to do—\n\n\n For the crew of the\nLancet\nsix hours was seven hours too long. They\n herded cringing Moruan \"volunteers\" into the little ship's lab. Jenkins\n handled external examinations and blood and tissue chemistries; Stone\n ran the X-ray and pan-endoscopic examinations. After four grueling\n hours the Red Doctor groaned and scowled at the growing pile of data.\n \"Okay. It seems that they're vaguely humanoid. And that's about all we\n can say for sure. I think we're wasting time. What say we tackle the\n Wizards for a while?\"\n\n\n Aguar's guards urged the tall Moruan with the purple cap into the\n control room at gunpoint, along with a couple of minor medical\n potentates. Purple-hat's name was Kiz, and it seemed that he wasn't\n having any that day.\n\n\n \"Look,\" said Jenkins intensely. \"You've seen this illness before. We\n haven't. So you can at least get us started. What kind of course does\n it run?\"\n\n\n Silence.\n\n\n \"All right then, what causes it? Do you know? Bacteria? Virus?\n Degeneration?\"\n\n\n Silence.\n\n\n Jenkins' face was pale. \"Look, boys—your Boss out there is going to\n cool before long if something doesn't happen fast—\" His eyes narrowed\n on Kiz. \"Of course, that might be right up your alley—how about that?\n His Eminence bows out, somebody has to bow in, right? Maybe you, huh?\"\n\n\n Kiz began sputtering indignantly; the Red Doctor cut him off. \"It\n adds up,\" he said heatedly. \"You've got the power, you've got your\n magic and all. Maybe you were the boys that turned thumbs down so\n violently on the idea of a Hospital Earth Contract, eh? Couldn't risk\n having outsiders cutting in on your trade.\" Jenkins rubbed his chin\n thoughtfully. \"But somehow it seems to me you'd have a whale of a lot\n more power if you learned how to control this Pox.\"\n\n\n Kiz stopped sputtering quite abruptly. He blinked at his confederates\n for a long moment. Then: \"You're an idiot. It can't be done.\"\n\n\n \"Suppose it could.\"\n\n\n \"The Spirit of the Pox is too strong. Our most powerful spells make him\n laugh. He eats our powders and drinks our potions. Even the Iron Circle\n won't drive him out.\"\n\n\n \"Won't it, now! Well, we have iron\nneedles\nand potions that eat the\n bottoms out of their jars. Suppose\nthey\ndrive him out?\"\n\n\n The Moruan was visibly shaken. He held a whispered conference with his\n henchmen. \"You'll\nshow\nus these things?\" he asked suspiciously.\n\n\n \"I'll make a bargain,\" said Jenkins. \"You give us a Contract, we give\n you the power—fair enough?\"\n\n\n More whispers. Wally Stone tugged at Sam's sleeve. \"What do you think\n you're doing?\" he choked. \"These boys will cut your throat quicker than\n Aguar will—\"\n\n\n \"Maybe not,\" said Sam. \"Look, I've got an idea—risky, but it might\n work if you'll play along. We can't lose much.\"\n\n\n The whispers stopped and Kiz nodded to the Red Doctor. \"All right, we\n bargain,\" he said. \"\nAfter\nyou show us.\"\n\n\n \"Now or never.\" Jenkins threw open the door and nodded to the guards.\n \"I'll be in the sickroom in a very short while. If you're with me, I'll\n see you there. If not—\" He fingered his throat suggestively.\n\n\n As soon as they had gone Jenkins dived into the storeroom and began\n throwing flasks and bottles into a black bag. Wally Stone watched him\n in bewilderment. \"You're going to kill him,\" he moaned. \"Prayers,\n promises, pills and post-mortems. That's the Medical service for you.\"\n\n\n Sam grinned. \"Maybe you should operate on him.\nThat\nwould open their\n eyes all right.\"\n\n\n \"No thanks, not me. This is a medical case and it's all yours. What do\n you want me to do?\"\n\n\n \"Stay here and try your damnedest to get through to HQ,\" said Sam\n grimly. \"Tell them to send an armada, because we're liable to need one\n in the next few hours—\"\nIf the Tenth Son of a Tenth Son had looked bad before, three hours had\n witnessed no improvement. The potentate's skin had turned from grey\n to a pasty green as he lay panting on the bed. He seemed to have lost\n strength enough even to groan, and his eyes were glazed.\n\n\n Outside the royal chambers Jenkins found a group of green-clad\n mourners, wailing like banshees and tearing out their fur in great grey\n chunks. They stood about a flaming brazier; as Jenkins entered the\n sickroom the wails rose ten decibels and took on a howling-dog quality.\n\n\n Aguar met him at the door. \"He's dying,\" he roared angrily. \"Why don't\n you do something? Every hour he sinks more rapidly, and all you do is\n poke holes in the healthy ones! And then you send in\nthis\nbag of\n bones again—\" He glowered at the tall purple-capped figure bending\n over the bed.\n\n\n Jenkins looked sharply at Kiz, and the wizard nodded his head slowly.\n \"Try being quiet for a while,\" Jenkins said to Aguar. \"We're going to\n cure the Boss here.\" Solemnly he slipped off his scarlet tunic and cap\n and laid them on a bench, then set his black bag carefully on the floor\n and threw it open. \"First off, get rid of those things.\" He pointed\n to the braziers at the bedside. \"They're enough to give anybody a\n headache. And tell those people outside to stop the racket. How can\n they expect the Spirit of the Pox to come out of His Eminence when\n they're raising a din like that?\"\n\n\n Aguar's eyes widened for a moment as he hesitated; then he threw open\n the door and screamed a command. The wailing stopped as though a switch\n had been thrown. As a couple of cowering guards crept in to remove the\n braziers, Red Doctor Jenkins drew the wizard aside.\n\n\n \"Tell me what spells you've already used.\"\n\n\n Hurriedly, Kiz began enumerating, ticking off items on hairy fingers.\n As he talked Jenkins dug into the black bag and started assembling a\n liter flask, tubing and needles.\n\n\n \"First we brewed witches' root for seven hours and poured it over his\n belly. When the Pox appeared in spite of this we lit three red candles\n at the foot of the bed and beat His Eminence steadily for one hour out\n of four, with new rawhide. When His Eminence protested this, we were\n certain the Spirit had possessed him, so we beat him one hour out of\n two—\"\n\n\n Jenkins winced as the accounting of cabalistic clap-trap continued. His\n Eminence, he reflected, must have had the constitution of an ox. He\n glanced over at the panting figure on the bed. \"But doesn't\nanybody\never recover from this?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes—if the Spirit that afflicts them is very small. Those are\n the fortunate ones. They grow hot and sick, but they still can eat\n and drink—\" The wizard broke off to stare at the bottle-and-tube\n arrangement Jenkins had prepared. \"What's that?\"\n\n\n \"I told you about the iron needles, didn't I? Hold this a moment.\"\n Jenkins handed him the liter flask. \"Hold it high.\" He began searching\n for a vein on the patient's baggy arm. The Moruan equivalent of blood\n flowed back greenishly in the tube for an instant as he placed the\n needle; then the flask began to drip slowly.\n\n\n Aguar let out a horrified scream and raced from the room; in a moment\n he was back with a detachment of guards, all armed to the teeth, and\n three other Moruan physicians with their retinues of apprentices. Sam\n Jenkins held up his hand for silence. He allowed the first intravenous\n flask to pour in rapidly; the second he adjusted to a steady\n drip-drip-drip.\n\n\n Next he pulled two large bunsen burners and a gas tank from the bag.\n These he set up at the foot of the bed, adjusting the blue flames to\n high spear-tips. On the bedside table he set up a third with a flask\n above it; into this he poured some water and a few crystals from a dark\n bottle. In a moment the fluid in the flask was churning and boiling, an\n ominous purple color.\n\n\n Kiz watched goggle-eyed.\n\n\n \"Now!\" said Jenkins, pulling out a long thin rubber tube. \"This should\n annoy the Spirit of the Pox something fierce.\" He popped the tube into\n the patient's mouth. His Eminence rose up with a gasp, choking and\n fighting, but the tube went down. The Red Doctor ground three white\n pills into powder, mixed in some water, and poured it down the tube.\n\n\n Then he stepped back to view the scene, wiping cold perspiration from\n his forehead. He motioned to Kiz. \"You see what I'm doing, of course?\"\n he said loudly enough for Aguar and the guards to hear.\n\n\n \"Oh, yes—yes! Indeed, indeed,\" said Kiz.\n\n\n \"Fine. Now this is most important.\" Jenkins searched in the bag until\n he found a large mortar which he set down on the floor. Squatting\n behind it, he began tapping it slowly with the pestle, in perfect\n rhythm with the intravenous drip ... and waited.\n\n\n The room was deathly still except for a heavy snuffling sound from His\n Eminence and the plink-plink of the pestle on the mortar. The flask of\n purple stuff gurgled quietly. An hour passed, and another. Suddenly\n Jenkins motioned to Kiz. \"His pulse—quickly!\"\n\n\n Kiz scampered gratefully over to the bedside. \"A hundred and eighty,\"\n he whispered.\n\n\n Jenkins' face darkened. He peered at the sick man intently. \"It's a\n bad sign,\" he said. \"The Spirit is furious at the intrusion of an\n outsider.\" He motioned toward the mortar. \"Can you do this?\"\n\n\n Without breaking the rhythm he transferred the plinking-job to Kiz.\n He changed the dwindling intravenous bottle. \"Call me when the bottle\n is empty—or if there is any change. Whatever you do,\ndon't touch\n anything\n.\"\n\n\n With that he tiptoed from the room. Four murderous-looking guards\n caught Aguar's eye and followed him out, swords bared. Jenkins sank\n down on a bench in the hall and fell asleep in an instant.\nThey woke him once, hours later, to change the intravenous solution,\n and he found Kiz still intently pounding on the mortar. Jenkins\n administered more of the white powder in water down the tube, and went\n back to his bench. He had barely fallen asleep again when they were\n rousing him with frightened voices. \"Quickly!\" Aguar cried. \"There's\n been a terrible change!\"\n\n\n In the sickroom His Eminence was drenched with sweat, his face\n glistening in the light of the bunsen burners. He rolled from side to\n side, groaning hoarsely. \"\nFaster!\n\" Jenkins shouted to Kiz at the\n mortar, and began stripping off the sodden bedclothes. \"Blankets,\n now—plenty of them.\"\n\n\n The plink-plink rose to a frantic staccato as Jenkins checked the\n patient's vital signs, wiped more sweat from his furry brow. Quite\n suddenly His Eminence opened bleary eyes, stared about him, let out a\n monumental groan and buried his head in the blankets. In two minutes\n he was snoring softly. His face was cool now, his heart-beat slow and\n regular.\n\n\n Jenkins snatched the mortar from Kiz, and with a wild flourish smashed\n it on the stone floor. Then he grabbed the wizard's paw, raising it\n high. \"You've done well!\" he cried to the bewildered physician. \"It's\n over now—the Spirit has departed. His Eminence will recover.\"\nThey escorted him in triumphal procession back to the\nLancet\n, where\n Wally Stone stared in disbelief as Jenkins and Kiz bowed and hugged\n each other like long-lost brothers at a sad farewell. \"I finally got\n through to somebody at HQ,\" he said as the Red Doctor climbed aboard.\n \"It'll take them twenty days at least, to get help, considering that\n Morua is not a Contract planet and we're not supposed to be here in the\n first place, but that's the best they can do....\"\n\n\n \"Tell them to forget the armada,\" said Jenkins, grinning. \"And anyway,\n they've got things all wrong back at HQ.\" He brandished a huge roll\n of parchment, stricken through with the colors of the seven Medical\n Services of Hospital Earth. \"Take a look, my boy—the juiciest Medical\n Services Contract that's been written in three centuries—\" He tossed\n the Contract in the dry-storage locker with a sigh. \"Old Kiz just\n finished his first lesson, and he's still wondering what went on—\"\n\n\n \"So am I,\" said the Green Doctor suspiciously.\n\n\n \"It was simple. We cured His Eminence of the Pox.\"\n\n\n \"With what? Incantations?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, the incantations were for the\ndoctors\n,\" said Jenkins. \"They\n expected them, obviously, since that was the only level of medicine\n they could understand. And incidentally, the only level that could\n possibly get us a Contract. Anyway, I couldn't do very much else, under\n the circumstances, except for a little supportive therapy. Without a\n Bio-survey we were hamstrung. But whatever the Pox is, it obviously\n involves fever, starvation and dehydration. I knew that His Eminence\n could assimilate carbohydrates, and I took a long gamble that an\n antipyretic wouldn't hurt him too much—\"\n\n\n Wally Stone's jaw sagged. \"So you treated him with sugar-water and\n aspirin,\" he said weakly. \"And on that you risked our necks.\"\n\n\n \"Not quite,\" said the Red Doctor. \"You're forgetting that I had\n one other prescription to use—the oldest, most trustworthy\n healer-of-all-ills known to medicine, just as potent now as it was a\n thousand years ago. Without it, Hospital Earth might just as well pack\n up her little black bag and go home.\" He smiled into the mirror as he\n adjusted the scarlet band of the Red Service across his shoulders. \"We\n call it Tincture of Time,\" he said.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was the highest priority of the Doctors while treating His Eminence?", "question_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE_1", "options": ["Learning about his ailment so they could cure it elsewhere in the galaxy", "Sparing their own lives", "Fulfilling their hippocratic oath to do no harm to His Eminence", "Convincing His Eminence to sign a contract with Hospital Earth"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What were the specialties of the Red and Green Doctors, respectively?", "question_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE_2", "options": ["Blood, Brain", "Unknown", "Heart, Digestive", "Blood, Respiratory"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which planets do the physicians visit during the events of the story?", "question_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE_3", "options": ["Morua II", "Deneb III", "Lancet", "Morua II and Deneb III"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is it risky for a planet to receive services when they are not under contract with Hospital Earth?", "question_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE_4", "options": ["Hospital Earth may come to collect collateral for their services, which has been known to start war", "The physicians are known to be brutal and sometimes kill patients from planets that aren’t under contract", "The cost may be extremely expensive for emergency services outside of the contract, taking centuries to repay", "Their biology is not understood well, and mistakes can be made"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many people die during the events of the story?", "question_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE_5", "options": ["Two", "One", "Three", "Zero"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many planets have medical service contracts with Earth?", "question_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE_6", "options": ["Over one hundred", "About fifty", "One", "Unknown"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What were some of the treatments the Doctors tried on His Eminence?", "question_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE_7", "options": ["Oral medicine, cold bath", "Intravenous fluids, oral medicine", "Intravenous fluids, stomach pump", "Lighting colorful torches, pounding mortar and pestle"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Earth come to be the hospital planet?", "question_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE_8", "options": ["Earth had the most liquid water to be incorporated into medical treatments", "Earth was the site of a previous wartime hospital, and due to that experience they became known as the hospital planet", "As interplanetary transit developed, planets specialized", "Earth’s atmosphere has a unique ability to soothe many types of illnesses when patients from other planets are brought to Earth Hospital"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the class of planet Morua II matter to the story line?", "question_unique_id": "60412_K8F7TZVE_9", "options": ["They were not under contract with Earth, but could be persuaded", "It meant the Doctors knew it was a place they should not treat any patients due to their lack of knowledge with their kind", "It meant the Doctors had the option to refuse their call for hospital services", "They got a priority position in the emergency queue due to their planet’s class"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/0/4/1/60412//60412-h//60412-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63855", "set_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Starbusters", "year": 1962, "author": "Coppel, Alfred", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; War stories; Short stories", "article": "THE STARBUSTERS\nBy ALFRED COPPEL, JR.\nA bunch of kids in bright new uniforms,\n\n transiting the constellations in a disreputable\n\n old bucket of a space-ship—why should the\n\n leathery-tentacled, chlorine-breathing\n\n Eridans take them seriously?\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1949.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHQ TELWING CSN 30 JAN 27 TO CMDR DAVID FARRAGUT STRYKALSKI VII CO\n TRS CLEOPATRA FLEET BASE CANALOPOLIS MARS STOP SUBJECT ORDERS STOP\n ROUTE LUNA PHOBOS SYRTIS MAJOR TRANSSENDERS PRIORITY AAA STOP MESSAGE\n FOLLOWS STOP TRS CLEOPATRA AND ALL ATTACHED AND OR ASSIGNED PERSONNEL\n HEREBY RELIEVED ASSIGNMENT AND DUTY INNER PLANET PATROL GROUP STOP\n ASSIGNED TEMP DUTY BUREAU RESEARCH AND DEVELOPMENT STOP SUBJECT VESSEL\n WILL PROCEED WITHOUT DELAY FLEET EXPERIMENTAL SUBSTATION PROVING\n GROUNDS TETHYS SATURNIAN GROUP STOP CO WILL REPORT UPON ARRIVAL TO\n CAPT IVY HENDRICKS ENGINEERING OFFICER PROJECT WARP STOP SIGNED H.\n GORMAN SPACE ADMIRAL COMMANDING STOP END MESSAGE END MESSAGE END\n MESSAGE.\n\n\n \"Amen! Amen! Amen! Stop.\" Commander Strykalski smoothed out the\n wrinkled flimsy by spreading it carefully on the wet bar.\n\n\n Coburn Whitley, the T.R.S.\nCleopatra's\nExecutive, set down his Martini\n and leaned over very slowly to give the paper a microscopic examination\n in the mellow light.\n\n\n \"Maybe,\" he began hopefully, \"It could be a forgery?\"\n\n\n Strike shook his head.\n\n\n Lieutenant Whitley looked crestfallen. \"Then perhaps old Brass-bottom\n Gorman means some other guy named Strykalski?\" To Cob, eight Martinis\n made anything possible.\n\n\n \"Could there be two Strykalskis?\" demanded the owner of the name under\n discussion.\n\n\n \"No.\" Whitley sighed unhappily. \"And there's only one Tellurian Rocket\n Ship\nCleopatra\nin the Combined Solarian Navies, bless her little iron\n rump! Gorman means us. And I think we've been had, that's what I think!\"\n\n\n \"Tethys isn't so bad,\" protested Strike.\n\n\n Cob raised a hand to his eyes as though to blot out the sight of that\n distant moonlet. \"Not so bad, he says! All you care about is seeing Ivy\n Hendricks again, I know you! Tethys!\"\n\n\n Strike made a passing effort to look stern and failed. \"You mean\nCaptain\nHendricks, don't you, Mister Whitley? Captain Hendricks of\n Project Warp?\"\n\n\n Cob made a sour face. \"Project Warp, yet! Sounds like a dog barking!\"\n He growled deep in his throat and barked once or twice experimentally.\n The officer's club was silent, and a silver-braided Commodore sitting\n nearby scowled at Whitley. The Lieutenant subsided with a final small,\n \"Warp!\"\n\n\n An imported Venusian quartet began to play softly. Strike ordered\n another round of drinks from the red-skinned Martian tending bar and\n turned on his stool to survey the small dance floor. The music and the\n subdued lights made him think of Ivy Hendricks. He really wanted to see\n her again. It had been a long time since that memorable flight when\n they had worked together to pull Admiral Gorman's flagship\nAtropos\nout of a tight spot on a perihelion run. Ivy was good to work with ...\n good to be around.\n\n\n But there was apparently more to this transfer than just Ivy pulling\n wires to see him again. Things were tense in the System since Probe\n Fleet skeeterboats had discovered a race of group-minded, non-human\n intelligences on the planets of 40 Eridani C. They lived in frozen\n worlds that were untenable for humans. And they were apparently all\n parts of a single entity that never left the home globe ... a thing no\n human had seen. The group-mind. They were rabidly isolationist and they\n had refused any commerce with the Solar Combine.\n\n\n Only CSN Intelligence knew that the Eridans were warlike ... and that\n they were strongly suspected of having interstellar flight....\n\n\n So, reflected Strike, the transfer of the\nCleopatra\nto Tethys for\n work under the Bureau of Research and Development meant innovations\n and tests. And Commander Strykalski was concerned. The beloved Old\n Aphrodisiac didn't take kindly to innovations. At least she never had\n before, and Strike could see no reason to suppose the cantankerous\n monitor would have changed her disposition.\n\n\n \"There's Celia!\" Cob Whitley was waving toward the dance floor.\n\n\n Celia Graham, trim in her Ensign's greys, was making her way through\n the crowd of dancers. Celia was the\nCleopatra's\nRadar Officer, and\n like all the rest, bound with chains of affection to the cranky old\n warship. The\nCleopatra's\ncrew was a unit ... a team in the true sense\n of the word. They served in her because they wanted to ... would serve\n in no other. That's the way Strike ran his crew, and that's the way the\n crew ran Lover-Girl. Old Aphrodisiac's family was a select community.\n\n\n There was a handsome Martian Naval Lieutenant with Celia, but when she\n saw the thoughtful expression on her Captain's face, she dismissed him\n peremptorily. Here was something, apparently, of a family matter.\n\n\n \"Well, I can't see anything to worry about, Skipper,\" she said when he\n had explained. \"I should think you'd be glad of a chance to see Ivy\n again.\"\n\n\n Cob Whitley leaned precariously forward on his bar-stool to wag a\n finger under Celia's pretty nose. \"But he doesn't know what Captain\n Hendricks has cooked up for Lover-Girl, and you know the old carp likes\n to be treated with respect.\" He affected a very knowing expression.\n \"Besides, we shouldn't be gallivanting around testing Ivy's electronic\n eyelash-curlers when the Eridans are likely to be swooshing around old\n Sol any day!\"\n\n\n \"Cob, you're drunk!\" snapped Celia.\n\n\n \"I am at that,\" mused Whitley with a foolish grin. \"And I'd better\n enjoy it. There'll be no Martinis on Tethys, that's for sure! This\n cruise is going to interfere with my research on ancient twentieth\n century potables...\"\n\n\n Strike heaved his lanky frame upright. \"Well, I suppose we'd better\n call the crew in.\" He turned to Cob. \"Who is Officer of the Deck\n tonight?\"\n\n\n \"Bayne.\"\n\n\n \"Celia, you'd better go relieve him. He'll have to work all night to\n get us an orbit plotted.\"\n\n\n \"Will do, Skipper,\" Celia Graham left.\n\n\n \"Cob, you'd better turn in. Get some sleep. But have the NPs round up\n the crew. If any of them are in the brig, let me know. I'll be on the\n bridge.\"\n\n\n \"What time do you want to lift ship?\"\n\n\n \"0900 hours.\"\n\n\n \"Right.\" Cob took a last loving look around the comfortable officer's\n club and heaved a heavy sigh. \"Tethys, here comes Lover-Girl. It's\n going to be a long, long cruise, Captain.\"\n\n\n How long, he couldn't have known ... then.\nThe flight out was uneventful. Uneventful, that is for the T.R.S.\nCleopatra\n. Only one tube-liner burned through, and only six hours\n wasted in nauseous free-fall.\n\n\n Lover-Girl wormed her way through the asteroid belt, passed within a\n million miles of Jupiter and settled comfortably down on the airless\n field next to the glass-steel dome of the Experimental Substation on\n Tethys. But her satisfied repose was interrupted almost before it was\n begun. Swarms of techmen seemed to burst from the dome and take her\n over. Welders and physicists, naval architects and shipfitters, all\n armed with voluminous blueprints and atomic torches set to work on\n her even before her tubes had cooled. Power lines were crossed and\n re-crossed, shunted and spliced. Weird screen-like appendages were\n welded to her bow and stern. Workmen and engineers stomped through her\n companionways, bawling incomprehensible orders. And her crew watched in\n mute dismay. They had nothing to say about it...\nIvy Hendricks rose from her desk as Strike came into her Engineering\n Office. There was a smile on her face as she extended her hand.\n\n\n \"It's good to see you again, Strike.\"\n\n\n Strykalski studied her. Yes, she hadn't changed. She was still the Ivy\n Hendricks he remembered. She was still calm, still lovely, and still\n very, very competent.\n\n\n \"I've missed you, Ivy.\" Strike wasn't just being polite, either. Then\n he grinned. \"Lover-Girl's missed you, too. There never has been an\n Engineering Officer that could get the performance out of her cranky\n hulk the way you used to!\"\n\n\n \"It's a good thing,\" returned Ivy, still smiling, \"that I'll be back at\n my old job for a while, then.\"\n\n\n Strykalski raised his eyebrows inquisitively. Before Ivy could explain,\n Cob and Celia Graham burst noisily into the room and the greetings\n began again. Ivy, as a former member of the\nCleopatra's\ncrew, was one\n of the family.\n\n\n \"Now, what I would like to know,\" Cob demanded when the small talk had\n been disposed of, \"is what's with this 'Project Warp'? What are you\n planning for Lover-Girl? Your techmen are tearing into her like she was\n a twenty-day leave!\"\n\n\n \"And why was the\nCleopatra\nchosen?\" added Celia curiously.\n\n\n \"Well, I'll make it short,\" Ivy said. \"We're going to make a hyper-ship\n out of her.\"\n\n\n \"Hyper-ship?\" Cob was perplexed.\n\n\n Ivy Hendricks nodded. \"We've stumbled on a laboratory effect that\n warps space. We plan to reproduce it in portable form on the\nCleopatra\n... king size. She'll be able to take us through the\n hyper-spatial barrier.\"\n\n\n \"Golly!\" Celia Graham was wide-eyed. \"I always thought of hyperspace as\n a ... well, sort of an abstraction.\"\n\n\n \"That's been the view up to now. We all shared it here, too, until\n we set up this screen system and things began to disappear when they\n got into the warped field. Then we rigged a remote control and set up\n telecameras in the warp....\" Ivy's face sobered. \"We got plates of\n star-fields ... star-fields that were utterly different and ... and\nalien\n. It seems that there's at least one other space interlocked and\n co-existent with ours. When we realized that we decided to send a ship\n through. I sent a UV teletype to Admiral Gorman at Luna Base ... and\n here you are.\"\n\n\n \"Why us?\" Cob asked thoughtfully.\n\n\n \"I'll answer that,\" offered Strike, \"Lover-Girl's a surge circuit\n monitor, and it's a safe bet this operation takes plenty of power.\" He\n looked over to Ivy. \"Am I right?\"\n\n\n \"Right on the nose, Strike,\" she returned. Then she broke into a wide\n smile. \"Besides, I wouldn't want to enter an alien cosmos with anyone\n but Lover-Girl's family. It wouldn't be right.\"\n\n\n \"Golly!\" said Celia Graham again. \"Alien cosmos ... it sounds so creepy\n when you say it that way.\"\n\n\n \"You could call it other things, if you should happen to prefer them,\"\n Ivy Hendricks said, \"Subspace ... another plane of existence. I....\"\n\n\n She never finished her sentence. The door burst open and a\n Communications yeoman came breathlessly into the office. From the\n ante-room came the sound of an Ultra Wave teletype clattering\n imperiously ... almost frantically.\n\n\n \"Captain Hendricks!\" cried the man excitedly, \"A message is coming\n through from the Proxima transsender ... they're under attack!\"\n\n\n Strykalski was on his feet. \"Attack!\"\n\n\n \"The nonhumans from Eridanus have launched a major invasion of the\n solar Combine! All the colonies in Centaurus are being invaded!\"\n\n\n Strike felt the bottom dropping out of his stomach, and he knew that\n all the others felt the same. If this was a war, they were the ones\n who would have to fight it. And the Eridans! Awful leathery creatures\n with tentacles ... chlorine breathers! They would make a formidable\n enemy, welded as they were into one fighting unit by the functioning of\n the group-mind....\n\n\n He heard himself saying sharply into Ivy's communicator: \"See to it\n that my ship is fueled and armed for space within three hours!\"\n\n\n \"Hold on, Strike!\" Ivy Hendricks intervened, \"What about the tests?\"\n\n\n \"I'm temporarily under Research and Development command, Ivy, but\n Regulations say that fighting ships cannot be held inactive during\n wartime! The\nCleopatra's\na warship and there's a war on now. If you\n can have your gear jerry-rigged in three hours, you can come along\n and test it when we have the chance. Otherwise the hell with it!\"\n Strykalski's face was dead set. \"I mean it, Ivy.\"\n\n\n \"All right, Strike. I'll be ready,\" Ivy Hendricks said coolly.\nExactly three hours and five minutes later, the newly created\n hyper-ship that was still Old Aphrodisiac lifted from the ramp outside\n the Substation dome. She rose slowly at first, the radioactive flame\n from her tubes splashing with sun-bright coruscations over the loading\n pits and revetments. For a fleeting instant she was outlined against\n the swollen orb of Saturn that filled a quarter of Tethys' sky, and\n then she was gone into the galactic night.\n\n\n Aboard, all hands stood at GQ. On the flying bridge Strykalski and\n Coburn Whitley worked steadily to set the ship into the proper position\n in response to the steady flood of equations that streamed into their\n station from Bayne in the dorsal astrogation blister.\n\n\n An hour after blasting free of Tethys was pointed at the snaking river\n of stars below Orion that formed the constellation of Eridanus.\n\n\n When Cob asked why, Strike replied that knowing Gorman, they could\n expect orders from Luna Base ordering them either to attack or\n reconnoiter the 40 Eridani C system of five planets. Strykalski added\n rather dryly that it was likely to be the former, since Space Admiral\n Gorman had no great affection for either the\nCleopatra\nor her crew.\n\n\n Ivy Hendricks joined them after stowing her gear, and when Whitley\n asked her opinion, she agreed with Strike. Her experiences with Gorman\n had been as unfortunate as any of the others.\n\n\n \"I was afraid you'd say that,\" grumbled Cob, \"I was just hoping you\n wouldn't.\"\n\n\n The interphone flashed. Strike flipped the switch.\n\n\n \"Bridge.\"\n\n\n \"Communications here. Message from Luna Base, Captain.\"\n\n\n \"Here it is,\" Strykalski told Cob. \"Right on time.\"\n\n\n \"Speak of the devil,\" muttered the Executive.\n\n\n \"From the Admiral, sir,\" the voice in the interphone said, \"Shall I\n read it?\"\n\n\n \"Just give me the dope,\" ordered Strike.\n\n\n \"The Admiral orders us to quote make a diversionary attack on the\n planet of 40 Eridani C II unquote,\" said the squawk-box flatly.\n\n\n \"Acknowledge,\" ordered Strykalski.\n\n\n \"Wilco. Communications out.\"\n\n\n Strike made an I-told-you-so gesture to his Executive. Then he turned\n toward the enlisted man at the helm. \"Quarter-master?\"\n\n\n The man looked up from his auto-pilot check. \"Sir.\"\n\n\n \"Steady as she goes.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\n \"And that,\" shrugged Ivy Hendricks, \"Is that.\"\nThree weeks passed in the timeless limbo of second-order flight. Blast\n tubes silent, the\nCleopatra\nrode the curvature of space toward\n Eridanus. At eight and a half light years from Sol, the second-order\n was cut so that Bayne could get a star sight. As the lights of the\n celestial globe slowly retreated from their unnatural grouping ahead\n and astern, brilliant Sirius and its dwarf companion showed definite\n disks in the starboard ports. At a distance of 90,000,000 miles from\n the Dog Star, its fourteen heavy-gravity planets were plainly visible\n through the electron telescope.\n\n\n Strykalski and Ivy Hendricks stood beside Bayne in the dorsal blister\n while the astrogator sighted Altair through his polytant. His long,\n horse face bore a look of complete self-approbation when he had\n completed his last shot.\n\n\n \"A perfect check with the plotted course! How's that for fancy dead\n reckoning?\" he exclaimed.\n\n\n He was destined never to know the accolade, for at that moment the\n communicator began to flash angrily over the chart table. Bayne cut it\n in with an expression of disgust.\n\n\n \"Is the Captain there?\" demanded Celia Graham's voice excitedly.\n\n\n Strike took over the squawk-box. \"Right here, Celia. What is it?\"\n\n\n \"Radar contact, sir! The screen is crazy with blips!\"\n\n\n \"Could it be window?\"\n\n\n \"No, sir. The density index indicates spacecraft. High value in the\n chlorine lines....\"\n\n\n \"Eridans!\" cried Ivy.\n\n\n \"What's the range, Celia?\" demanded Strike. \"And how many of them are\n there?\"\n\n\n The sound of the calculator came through the grill. Then Celia replied:\n \"Range 170,000 miles, and there are more than fifty and less than two\n hundred. That's the best I can do from this far away. They seem to\n have some sort of radiation net out and they are moving into spread\n formation.\"\n\n\n Strike cursed. \"They've spotted us and they want to scoop us in with\n that force net! Damn that group-mind of theirs ... it makes for uncanny\n co-ordination!\" He turned back to the communicator. \"Cob! Are you on?\"\n\n\n \"Right here, Captain,\" came Cob Whitley's voice from the bridge.\n\n\n \"Shift into second-order! We'll have to try and run their net!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Whitley snapped.\n\n\n \"Communications!\" called Strike.\n\n\n \"Communications here.\"\n\n\n \"Notify Luna Base we have made contact. Give their numbers, course, and\n speed!\"\n\n\n Ivy could feel her heart pounding under her blouse. Her face was\n deadly pale, mouth pinched and drawn. This was the first time in battle\n for any of them ... and she dug her fingernails into her palms trying\n not to be afraid.\n\n\n Strykalski was rapping out his orders with machine-gun rapidity, making\n ready to fight his ship if need be ... and against lop-sided odds. But\n years of training were guiding him now.\n\n\n \"Gun deck!\"\n\n\n A feminine voice replied.\n\n\n \"Check your accumulators. We may have to fight. Have the gun-pointers\n get the plots from Radar. And load fish into all tubes.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir!\" the woman rapped out.\n\n\n \"Radar!\"\n\n\n \"Right here, Skipper!\"\n\n\n \"We're going into second-order, Celia. Use UV Radar and keep tabs on\n them.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain.\"\n\n\n Strike turned to Ivy Hendricks. \"Let's get back to the bridge, Ivy.\n It's going to be a hell of a rough half hour!\"\n\n\n As they turned to go, all the pin-points of light that were the stars\n vanished, only to reappear in distorted groups ahead and behind the\n ship. They were in second-order flight again, and traveling above light\n speed. Within seconds, contact would be made with the advance units of\n the alien fleet.\n\n\n Old Aphrodisiac readied herself for war.\nLike a maddened bull terrier, the old monitor charged at the Eridan\n horde. Within the black hulls strange, tentacled creatures watched\n her in scanners that were activated by infrared light. The chlorine\n atmosphere grew tense as the Tellurian warship drove full at the\n pulsating net of interlocked force lines. Parsecs away, on a frozen\n world were a dull red shrunken sun shone dimly through fetid air,\n the thing that was the group-mind of the Eridans guided the thousand\n leathery tentacles that controlled the hundred and fifty black\n spaceships. The soft quivering bulk of it throbbed with excitement as\n it prepared to kill the tiny Tellurian thing that dared to threaten its\n right to conquest.\n\n\n Old Lover-Girl tried gallantly to pierce the strange trap. She failed.\n The alien weapons were too strange, too different from anything her\n builders could have imagined or prepared her to face. The net sucked\n the life from her second-order generators, and she slowed, like the\n victim of a nightmare. Now rays of heat reached out for her, grazing\n her flanks as she turned and twisted. One touched her atmospheric fins\n and melted them into slowly congealing globes of steel glowing with a\n white heat. She fought back with whorls of atomic fire that sped from\n her rifles to wreak havoc among her attackers.\n\n\n Being non-entities in themselves, and only limbs of the single\n mentality that rested secure on its home world, the Eridans lacked the\n vicious will to live that drove the Tellurian warship and her crew. But\n their numbers wore her down, cutting her strength with each blow that\n chanced to connect.\n\n\n Torpedoes from the tubes that circled her beam found marks out in\n space and leathery aliens died, their black ships burst asunder by the\n violence of new atoms being created from old.\n\n\n But there were too many. They hemmed her in, heat rays ever slashing,\n wounding her. Strykalski fought her controls, cursing her, coaxing\n her. Damage reports were flowing into the flying bridge from every\n point in the monitor's body. Lover-Girl was being hurt ... hurt badly.\n The second-order drive was damaged, not beyond repair, but out of\n commission for at least six hours. And they couldn't last six hours.\n They couldn't last another ten minutes. It was only the practiced hands\n of her Captain and crew that kept the\nCleopatra\nalive....\n\n\n \"We're caught, Ivy!\" Strike shouted to the girl over the noises of\n battle. \"She can't stand much more of this!\"\n\n\n Cob was screaming at the gun-pointers through the open communicator\n circuit, his blood heated by the turbulent cacophony of crackling rays\n and exploding torpedoes. \"Hit 'em! Damn it! Damn it, hit 'em now! Dead\n ahead! Hit 'em again!...\"\n\n\n Ivy stumbled across the throbbing deck to stand at Strykalski's side.\n \"The hyper drive!\" she yelled, \"The hyper drive!\"\n\n\n It was a chance. It was the\nonly\nchance ... for Lover-Girl and Ivy\n and Cob and Celia ... for all of them. He had to chance it. \"Ivy!\" he\n called over his shoulder, \"Check with Engineering! See if the thing's\n hooked into the surge circuit!\"\n\n\n She struggled out of the flying bridge and down the ramp toward the\n engine deck. Strike and Cob stayed and sweated and cursed and fought.\n It seemed that she would never report.\n\n\n At last the communicator began to flash red. Strike opened the circuit\n with his free hand. \"All right?\" he demanded with his heart in his\n throat.\n\n\n \"\nTry it!\n\" Ivy shouted back.\n\n\n Strykalski lurched from his chair as another ray caught the ship for an\n instant and heated a spot on the wall to a cherry red. Gods! he prayed\n fervently. Let it work!\n\n\n A movement of the ship threw him to the deck. He struggled to his\n feet and across to the jerry-rigged switchboard that controlled the\n hyper drive's warp field. With a prayer on his lips, he slapped at the\n switches with wild abandon....\nThe sudden silence was like a physical blow. Strike staggered to the\n port and looked out. No alien ships filled the void with crisscrossing\n rays. No torpedoes flashed. The\nCleopatra\nwas alone, floating in\n star-flecked emptiness.\n\n\n There were no familiar constellations. The stars were spread evenly\n across the ebony bowl of the sky, and they looked back at him with an\n alien, icy disdain.\n\n\n The realization that he stood with a tiny shell, an infinitesimal human\n island lost in the vastness of a completely foreign cosmos broke with\n an almost mind-shattering intensity over his brain!\n\n\n He was conscious of Cob standing beside him, looking out into this\n unknown universe and whispering in awe: \"\nWe're\nthe aliens here....\"\n\n\n Ivy Hendricks came into the bridge then, a haggard look around her\n eyes. \"I came up through the ventral blister,\" she said, \"Bayne is down\n there and he's having fits. There isn't a star in sight he recognizes\n and the whole hull of the ship is\nglowing\n!\"\n\n\n Cob and Strykalski rushed back to the port, straining to see the\n back-curving plates of the hull. Ivy was right. The metal, and to a\n lesser extent, even the leaded glassteel of the port was covered with a\n dim, dancing witchfire. It was as though the ship were being bombarded\n by a continuous shower of microscopic fire bombs.\n\n\n Whitley found refuge in his favorite expression. \"Ye gods and little\n catfish!\"\n\n\n Strike turned to Ivy. \"What do you think it is?\"\n\n\n \"I ... I don't know. Matter itself might be different ... here.\"\n\n\n Strykalski found himself at the port again, looking out into the vast\n stretch of alien void. Terror was seeping like dampness through him,\n stretching cold fingers into his heart and mind. He realized that\n everyone on board must feel the same way. It was the old human devil\n rising from the pit of the primeval past. Fear of the unknown, of the\n strange. And there was loneliness. From the dark corners of his mind,\n the terrible loneliness came stealing forth. Never had a group of human\n beings been so frighteningly\napart\nfrom their kind. He felt rejected,\n scorned and lost.\n\n\n The others felt it, too. Ivy and Cob drew closer, until all three stood\n touching each other; as though they could dispel the loneliness of the\n unnatural environment by the warmth of human, animal contact. Celia\n came into the bridge softly ... just to be near her friends.\n\n\n It was only the fact that they could return at will to their own\n space ... and the danger of the questing Eridans ... that kept one or\n all from crying out in utter childish fear. Celia Graham whimpered\n softly and slipped her hand into Cob's. He squeezed it to give her a\n reassurance he did not feel.\n\n\n Then Strike broke the spell. The effort was great, but it brushed away\n the shadows that had risen to plague them from the tortured abyss of\n racial memory. It brought them back to what they were: highly civilized\n people, parts of an intricately technological culture. Their ship\n was a part of that culture. The only part they could cling to. The\nCleopatra\ndemanded attention and service, and her demanding saved\n them.\n\n\n \"Cob,\" Strike directed with forced briskness, \"Take over Damage\n Control. See what can be done about the second-order drive.\"\n\n\n Cob pulled himself together, smiling as all the accustomed pieces\n of his life began to fit together again. It didn't matter that they\n were in an unknown cosmos. Damage Control was something he knew and\n understood. He smiled thankfully and left the bridge.\n\n\n \"Maintain a continuous radar-watch, Celia. We can't tell what we may\n encounter here.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain,\" replied Celia gratefully.\n\n\n Strykalski reached for the squawk-box and called Bayne.\n\n\n \"Astrogation here,\" came the shaky reply. In the exposed blisters the\n agoraphobia must be more acute, reasoned Strike, and Bayne must have\n been subconsciously stirred up by the disappearance of the familiar\n stars that were his stock-in-trade.\n\n\n \"Plot us a course to 40 Eridani C, Bayne,\" Strykalski directed. \"On\n gyro-headings.\"\n\n\n \"What?\" The astrogator sounded as though he thought Strike had lost his\n mind. \"Through\nthis\nspace?\"\n\n\n \"Certainly,\" Strykalski insisted quietly. \"You're so proud of your\n dead-reckoning. Here's a chance for you to do a real job. Get me an\n orbit.\"\n\n\n \"I ... all right, Captain,\" grumbled Bayne.\n\n\n Strike turned to Ivy Hendricks. \"Well, Captain Hendricks, this is some\n gadget you have dreamed up out of your Project Warp,\" he breathed\n shakily. \"At least the fat's out of the fire for the time being....\"\n\n\n Ivy looked out of the port and back with a shudder. \"I hope so, Strike.\n I hope so.\"\n\n\n They fell silent, seeking comfort in each other's presence.\nThe second-order drive repaired, Old Aphrodisiac moved out through the\n alien space toward the spot where 40 Eridani C existed on the other\n side of the barrier.\n\n\n The ship's tactical astrophysicist brought in some disturbing reports\n on the stars that shone brightly all around her. They fitted the\n accepted classifications in all particulars ... except one. And that\n one had the scientist tearing his hair. The mass of every observable\n body except the ship herself was practically non-existent. Even the two\n planetary systems discovered by the electron telescope flouted their\n impossible lack of mass.\n\n\n Ivy suggested that since the\nCleopatra\nand her crew were no part of\n this alien cosmos, no prime-space instruments could detect the errant\n mass. Like a microscopic bull in a gargantuan china shop, the Tellurian\n warship existed under a completely different set of physical laws than\n did the heavenly bodies of this strange space.\n\n\n It was pure conjecture, but it seemed well supported by the observable\n facts. The hull continued to glow with its unnatural witchfire, and\n soon disturbing reports were coming in from the Damage Control section\n that the thickness of the outer hull was actually being reduced.\n The rate was slow, and there was no immediate danger, but it was\n nevertheless unnerving to realize that Lover-Girl was being dissolved\n by\nsomething\n. Also, the outside Geigs recorded a phenomenal amount\n of short radiation emanating\nfrom the ship herself\n. The insulation\n kept most of it from penetrating, but tests showed that the strange\n radiation's source was the glow that clung stubbornly to the spacer's\n skin.\n\n\n A tense week passed and then the ship neared the spot where a\n change over to prime-space could be effected. According to Bayne's\n calculations, 40 Eridani C would be within 40,000,000 miles of them\n when the ship emerged from hyper space.\n\n\n And then the Radar section picked up the planetoids. Millions of them,\n large and small, lay in a globular cluster dead ahead. They spread out\n in all directions for more than half a parsec ... dull, rocky little\n worlds without a gram of detectable mass.\n\n\n All that waited for the\nCleopatra\nin her own cosmos was a hot\n reception at the hands of the defenders of 40 Eridani C II, while here\n was mystery at close range. Mystery that was not cosmic in scope ...\n just a swarm of innocuous seeming planetoids ... the first explorable\n worlds that they had neared in this universe. Strike decided to heave\n to and examine their find. Ivy wanted samples and though no one said\n it in so many words ... no one was anxious for another encounter\n with the rapacious Eridans. With typically human adaptiveness they\n had sublimated their fear of the unknown space in which they found\n themselves. Curiosity took the place of fear and here was something\n close at hand to probe. Anthropoid inquisitiveness prevailed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many people are in charge of plotting navigational waypoints along the journey?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_1", "options": ["One", "Two", "Zero", "Three"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "About how big is the Cleopatra ship?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_2", "options": ["Quite large, enough for at least a dozen crew", "Impossible to know", "Somewhat small, only large enough for 4 personnel", "Very small, only will fit Hendricks and Stryke"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What path did the ship Cleopatra take during the story?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_3", "options": ["Cleopatra Fleet Base - Tethys - 40 Eridani C II - hyper-space", "Tethys - Cleopatra Fleet Base - hyper-space - 40 Eridani C II - Mars", "Cleopatra Fleet Base - Tethys - 40 Eridani C II - hyper-space - 40 Eridani C II", "Tethys - Cleopatra Fleet Base - hyper-space - 40 Eridani C II - Tethys"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are the Eridians?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_4", "options": ["Drones without the ability to think autonomously", "A species capable of regrowing tentacles that are lost in combat", "Tentacled creatures with the ability to read each other's minds", "Tellurians that went rogue"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the Eridians engage in war?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_5", "options": ["Their ability to overtake new planets and systems was threatened", "They sensed the Tellurians were going to ambush them and acted in defense", "They did not engage in war", "They sought revenge on the Tellurians"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How fast is second-order flight?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_6", "options": ["Quarter the speed of light", "Twice the speed of light", "At least faster than the speed of light", "Half the speed of light"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Hendricks outfit the ship for war?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_7", "options": ["She replaced the metal hull to keep it from melting", "She upgraded the weaponry to match what the Eridians were capable of", "She outfitted the ship for discovery, not war", "She had additional screens installed to withstand combat"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the history between Tellurians and Eridians?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_8", "options": ["They are both trying to conquer the Saturn system", "They have not previously engaged before, though Tellurians have studied Eridians", "Eridians have tried to make contact with the Tellurians several times", "They have entangled in combat twice before"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are the directions given to Cleopatra?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_9", "options": ["Travel into previously undiscovered space, then they were redirected into combat", "Only one mission, to go and create a diversion in the war", "Return to Mars for the personnel to board Aphrodite and go to war with the Eridians", "Travel into a parallel universe where the Eridians are attacking other planets"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What do Tellurians think of the phenomenon of group-mind?", "question_unique_id": "63855_OUVVRF81_10", "options": ["It has been described from other planets and they are developing ways to combat it", "It is foreign to them and not understood", "Tellurians revere the group mind and wish to contact Eridians for a better understanding", "The Tellurians are never aware of the group-mind, only the reader has that information"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/5/63855//63855-h//63855-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "62382", "set_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Thralls of the Endless Night", "year": 1951, "author": "Brackett, Leigh", "topic": "Regression (Civilization) -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Science fiction; Castaways -- Fiction; PS", "article": "THRALLS of the ENDLESS NIGHT\nBy LEIGH BRACKETT\nThe Ship held an ancient secret that meant\n\n life to the dying cast-aways of the void.\n\n Then Wes Kirk revealed the secret to his\n\n people's enemies—and found that his betrayal\n\n meant the death of the girl he loved.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1943.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWes Kirk shut his teeth together, hard. He turned his back on Ma Kirk\n and the five younger ones huddled around the box of heat-stones and\n went to the doorway, padding soft and tight with the anger in him.\n\n\n He shoved the curtain of little skins aside and crouched there with his\n thick shoulders fitted into the angle of the jamb, staring out, cold\n wind threading in across his splayed and naked feet.\n\n\n The hackles rose golden and stiff across Kirk's back. He said carefully,\n\n\n \"I would like to kill the Captain and the First Officer and the Second\n Officer and all the little Officers, and the Engineers, and all their\n families.\"\n\n\n His voice carried inside on the wind eddies. Ma Kirk yelled,\n\n\n \"Wes! You come here and let that curtain down! You want us all to\n freeze?\" Her dark-furred shoulders moved rhythmically over the rocking\n child. She added sharply, \"Besides, that's fool's talk, Jakk Randl's\n talk, and only gets the sucking-plant.\"\n\n\n \"Who's to hear it?\" Kirk raised his heavy overlids and let his pupils\n widen, huge liquid drops spreading black across his eyeballs, sucking\n the dim grey light into themselves, forcing line and shape out of\n blurred nothingness. He made no move to drop the curtain.\n\n\n The same landscape he had stared at since he was able to crawl by\n himself away from the box of heat-stones. Flat grey plain running\n right and left to the little curve of the horizon. Rocks on it, and\n edible moss. Wind-made gullies with grey shrubs thick in their bottoms,\n guarding their sour white berries with thorns and sacs of poisoned dust\n that burst when touched.\n\n\n Between the fields and the gullies there were huts like his own, sunk\n into the earth and sodded tight. A lot of huts, but not as many as\n there had been, the old ones said. The Hans died, and the huts were\n empty, and the wind and the earth took them back again.\n\n\n Kirk raised his shaggy head. The light of the yellow star they called\n Sun caught in the huge luminous blackness of his eyes.\n\n\n Beyond the Hansquarter, just where the flat plain began to rise, were\n the Engineers. Not many of them any more. You could see the dusty lumps\n where the huts had been, the tumbled heaps of metal that might have\n meant something once, a longer time ago than anyone could remember. But\n there were still plenty of huts standing. Two hands and one hand and\n a thumb of them, full of Engineers who said how the furrows should be\n laid for the planting but did nothing about the tilling of them.\n\n\n And beyond the Engineers—the Officers.\n\n\n The baby cried. Ma Kirk shrilled at her son, and two of the younger\n ones fought over a bone with no meat on it, rolling and snapping on the\n dirt floor. Kirk shifted his head forward to shut out the sound of them\n and followed the line of the plain upward with sullen, glowing eyes.\n\n\n The huts of the Engineers were larger than those in the Hansquarter.\n The huts of the Officers were not much larger than the Engineers', but\n there were more of them and they climbed higher up the grey slope.\n Five, nearly six hands of them, with the Captain's metal-roofed place\n highest of all.\n\n\n Highest and nearest, right under the titanic shape lifting jagged\n against the icy stars from the crest of the ridge.\n\n\n The Ship.\n\n\n Kirk's voice was soft in his thick throat. \"I would like to kill them,\"\n he said. \"I would like to kill them all.\"\n\n\n \"Yah!\" cried a shrill voice over his shoulder. \"All but the Captain's\n yellow daughter!\"\nKirk spun angrily around. Lil, next below himself, danced back out of\n reach, her kilt of little skins flying around her thin hips.\n\n\n \"Yah!\" she said again, and wrinkled her flat nose. \"I've seen you\n looking at her. All yellow from head to foot and beautiful pink lids to\n her eyes. You wouldn't kill\nher\n, I bet!\"\n\n\n \"I bet I'll half kill you if you don't shut up!\"\n\n\n Lil stuck out her tongue. Kirk aimed a cuff at her. She danced behind\n his arm and jerked the curtain down and shot away again, making two\n jumps over the brawling young ones and the box of heat-stones.\n\n\n She squatted demurely beside Ma Kirk and said, as though nothing had\n happened, \"Ma says will you please not let so much heat out.\"\n\n\n Kirk didn't say anything. He started to walk around the heat box. Lil\n yelled, \"Ma!\"\n\n\n The young ones stopped fighting, scuttling out of reach and watching\n with bright moist eyes, grinning. The baby had reached the hiccoughing\n stage.\n\n\n Ma Kirk said, \"Sit down, or go pick on somebody your own size.\"\n\n\n Kirk stopped. \"Aw, I wasn't going to hurt her. She has to be so smart!\"\n He leaned forward to glare at Lil. \"And I would so kill the Captain's\n daughter!\"\n\n\n The baby was quiet. Ma Kirk laid it down in a nest of skins put close\n to the heat and said wearily:\n\n\n \"You men, always talking about killing! Haven't we enough trouble\n without that?\"\n\n\n Kirk looked at the little box of heat-stones, his pupils shrinking.\n\n\n \"Maybe there'd be less trouble for us.\"\n\n\n Lil poked her shock of black hair around Ma Kirk's knee. Her big eyes\n glowed in the feeble light.\n\n\n She said, \"You men! He's no man, Ma. He's just a little boy who has to\n stay behind and shoo the beetles out of the fields.\"\n\n\n The young ones giggled, well out of reach. Lil's thin body was strung\n tight, quivering to move. \"Besides,\" she demanded, \"what have the\n Officers and the Engineers ever done to you that you should want to\n kill them—all but the Captain's yellow daughter?\"\n\n\n Kirk's big heavy chest swelled. \"Ma,\" he said, \"you make that brat shut\n up or I'll whale her, anyhow.\"\n\n\n Ma Kirk looked at him. \"Your Pa's still big enough to whale you, young\n man! Now you stop it, both of you.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" said Kirk sullenly. He squatted down, holding his hands\n over the heat. His back twitched with the cold, but it was nice to have\n his belly warm, even if it was empty. \"Wish Pa'd hurry up. I'm hungry.\n Hope they killed meat.\"\n\n\n Ma Kirk sighed. \"Seems like meat gets scarcer all the time, like the\n heat-stones.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe,\" said Kirk heavily, \"it all goes to the same place.\"\n\n\n Lil snorted. \"And where's that, Smarty?\"\n\n\n His anger forced out the forbidden words.\n\n\n \"Where everybody says, stupid! Into the Ship.\"\n\n\n There was suddenly a lot of silence in the room. The word \"Ship\" hung\n there, awesome and accusing. Ma Kirk's eyes flicked to the curtain over\n the door and back to her son.\n\n\n \"Don't you say things like that, Wes! You don't know.\"\n\n\n \"It's what everybody says. Why else would they guard the Ship the way\n they do? We can't even get near the outside of it.\"\n\n\n Lil tossed her head. \"Well neither do they.\"\n\n\n \"Not when we can see 'em, no. Of course not. But how do we know they\n haven't got ways of getting into the Ship that don't show from the\n plain? Jakk says a lot goes on that we don't know about.\"\n\n\n He got up, forcing his belief at them with his big square hands.\n\n\n \"There must be something in the Ship that they don't want us to have.\n Something valuable, something they want to keep for themselves. What\n else could it be but heat-stones and maybe dried meat?\"\n\n\n \"We don't know, Wes! The Ship is—well, we shouldn't talk about it.\n And the Officers wouldn't do that. If they wanted us killed off they'd\n let the Piruts in on us, or the shags, and let 'em finish us quick.\n Freezing and starving would take too long. There'd be too many of us if\n we found out, or got mad.\"\n\n\n Kirk snorted. \"You women know so much. If they let the shags or the\n Piruts in on us, how could they stop 'em before they killed everybody,\n including the Officers? As for slow death—well, they think we're dumb.\n They've kept us away from the Ship ever since the\nCrash\n, and nobody\n knows how long ago that was. They think they can go on doing it. They\n think we'd never suspect.\"\n\n\n \"Yah!\" said Lil sharply. \"You just like to talk. Why should the\n Officers want us killed off anyhow?\"\n\n\n Kirk looked at the thin fuzzy baby curled tight in the skins.\n\n\n \"There aren't enough heat-stones to go around any more. Why should they\n let their young ones cry with the cold?\"\nThere was silence in the room again. Kirk felt it, thick and choky.\n His heart kicked against his ribs. He was scared, suddenly. He'd never\n talked that much before. It was the baby, crying in the cold, that set\n him off. Suppose someone had heard him. Suppose he was reported for a\n mutineer. That meant the sucking-plant....\n\n\n \"Listen!\" said Ma Kirk.\n\n\n Nerves crackled icily all over Kirk's skin. But there wasn't any need\n to listen. The noise rolled in over them. It hit rock faces polished by\n the wind, and the drifts of crystalline pebbles, and it splintered into\n a tangle of echoes that came from everywhere at once, but there was\n no mistaking it. No need even to use sensitive earcups to locate its\n source.\n\n\n The great alarm gong by the Captain's hut.\n\n\n Kirk began to move, very swiftly and quietly. Before the third gong\n stroke hit them he had his spear and his sling and was already lifting\n aside the door curtain.\n\n\n Ma Kirk said stiffly, \"Which way are they coming?\"\n\n\n Kirk's ears twitched. He sorted the gong sounds, and the wind, and\n found a whisper underneath them, rushing up out of the gullied plain.\n\n\n Kirk pointed. \"From the west. Piruts, I think.\"\n\n\n Ma Kirk sucked in her breath. Her voice had no tone in it. \"Your Pa\n went hunting that way.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah,\" said Kirk. \"I'll watch out for him.\"\n\n\n He glanced back just before he let the curtain drop. The pale glow of\n the heat-stones picked dots of luminous blackness out of the gloom,\n where the still breathless faces were, watching him. He saw the blurred\n shapes of clay cooking pots, of low bed frames, of huddled bodies. The\n baby began to whimper again.\n\n\n Kirk shivered in the cold wind. \"Lil,\" he said. \"I would, too, kill the\n Captain's yellow daughter.\"\n\n\n \"Yah,\" said Lil. \"Go chase the beetles away.\"\n\n\n There was no conviction in her voice. The wind was freezing on Kirk's\n bare feet. He dropped the curtain and went across the plain.\n\n\n Men and youths like himself, old enough to fight, were spilling out of\n low doorways and forming companies on the flat ground. Kirk spotted\n Jakk Randl and fell in beside him. They stood with their backs to the\n wind, stamping and shivering, their head-hair and scant fur clouts\n blown straight out.\n\n\n Randl nudged Kirk's elbow. \"Look at 'em,\" he said, and coughed. He was\n always coughing, jerking his thin sharp face back and forth. Kirk could\n have broken his brittle light-furred body in two. All Randl's strength\n was in his eyes. The pupils were always spread, always hot with some\n bitter force, always probing. He wasn't much older than Kirk.\n\n\n Kirk looked up the hill. Officers were running from the huts below the\n gaunt, dead Ship. They didn't look so different from the Hans, only\n they were built a little taller and lighter, less bowed and bunchy in\n the shoulders, quicker on their feet.\n\n\n Kirk stepped behind Randl to shield him from the wind. His voice was\n only a whisper, but it had a hard edge. The baby's thin, terrible wail\n was still in his ears.\n\n\n \"Is it true, Jakk? Do you know? Because if they are....\"\n\n\n Randl laughed and shuddered with a secret, ugly triumph. \"I crawled up\n on the peak during the last darkness. The guards were cold and the wind\n made them blind and deaf. I lay in the rocks and watched. And I saw....\"\n\n\n He coughed. The Officers' voices rang sharp through the wind. Compact\n groups of men began to run, off toward the west. The whisper of sound\n had grown louder in Kirk's ears. He could hear men yelling and the\n ringing of metal on stone.\n\n\n He started to run, holding Randl's elbow. Grey dust blew under their\n feet. The drifts of crystal stones sent their sound shivering back at\n them in splinters. Kirk said fiercely:\n\n\n \"What did you see?\"\n\n\n They were passing under the hill now. Randl jerked his head. \"Up there,\n Wes.\"\n\n\n Kirk looked up. Someone was standing at the doorway of the Captain's\n hut. Someone tall and slender and the color of the Sunstar from head to\n foot.\n\n\n \"I saw her,\" said Randl hoarsely. \"She was carrying heat-stones into\n the Ship.\"\n\n\n Kirk's pupils shrank to points no warmer nor softer than the tip of his\n knife. He smiled, almost gently, looking up the hill.\n\n\n The captain's yellow daughter, taking life into the Ship.\nIt was a big raid. Kirk saw that when he scrambled up out of the last\n gully, half-carrying the wheezing Randl. The Piruts had come up the\n tongue of rock between two deep cuts and tackled the guards' pillbox\n head on. They hadn't taken it, not yet. But they were still trying,\n piling up their dead on the swept grey stone.\n\n\n They were using shags again. They drove the lumbering beasts on into\n the hail of stones and thrown spears from the pillbox, keeping low\n behind them, and then climbing on the round hairy bodies. It took\n courage, because sometimes the shags turned and clawed the men who\n drove them, and sometimes the dead ones weren't quite dead and it was\n too bad for the man who climbed on them.\n\n\n It looked to Kirk as though the pillbox was pretty far gone.\n\n\n He ran down the slope with the others, slipping in the crystal drifts.\n Randl was spent. Kirk kept him going, thinking of the huts back there\n on the plain, and Ma and Lil and the little ones, and the baby. You had\n to fight the Piruts, no matter what you thought about the Officers. You\n had to keep them from getting onto the plain.\n\n\n He wondered about Pa. Hunting shags in the outer gullies was mean work\n any time, but when the Piruts were raiding....\n\n\n No time to think about that. Wite, the second son of the First Officer,\n was signalling for double time. Kirk ran faster, his ears twitching\n furiously as they sifted the flying echoes into some kind of order.\n\n\n Pa hadn't been alone, of course. Frank and Russ went with him. The\n three of them would have sense enough to keep safe. Maybe they were in\n the pillbox.\n\n\n A big raid. More Piruts than he'd ever seen before. He wondered why.\n He wondered how so many of them had been able to get so close to the\n pillbox all at once, walking two or three abreast on the narrow tongue\n of rock under the spears and slingstones.\n\n\n They poured in through the gates of the stone-walled building,\n scattering up onto the parapet. There were slits in the rooms below and\n rusty metal things crouching behind them, but they weren't any good for\n fighting. A man needed shoulder room for spear and sling.\n\n\n It was pretty hot up there. The wall of bodies had built up so high,\n mostly with shags, that the Piruts were coming right over the wall.\n Kirk's nose wrinkled at the smell of blood. He avoided the biggest\n puddles and found a place to stand between the dead.\n\n\n Randl went down on his knees. He was coughing horribly, but his hot\n black eyes saw everything. He tried three times to lift his sling and\n gave it up.\n\n\n \"I'll cover you,\" said Kirk. He began taking crystal pebbles out of a\n big pile that was kept there and hurling them at the Piruts. They made\n a singing noise in the air, and they didn't stop going when they hit.\n They were heavy for their size, very heavy, with sharp edges.\n\n\n Randl said, \"Something funny, Wes. Too many Piruts. They couldn't risk\n 'em on an ordinary raid.\"\n\n\n Kirk grunted. A Pirut with red hair standing straight in the wind came\n over the wall. Kirk speared him left-handed in the belly, dodged the\n downstroke of his loaded sap, and kicked the body out of the way.\n\n\n He said, \"Wonder how they got so close, so fast?\"\n\n\n \"Some trick.\" Randl laughed suddenly. \"Funny their wanting the Ship as\n much as you and I do.\"\n\n\n \"Think they could know what's in it?\"\n\n\n Randl's narrow shoulders twitched. \"Near as we know, their legend is\n the same as ours. Something holy in the Ship, sacred and tabu. Only\n difference is they want to get it for themselves, and we want to keep\n it.\" He coughed and spat in sudden angry disgust. \"And we've swallowed\n that stuff. We've let the Officers hoard heat and food so they can live\n no matter what happens to us. We're fools, Wes! A lot of bloody fools!\"\n\n\n He got up and began jabbing with his spear at heads that poked up over\n the wall.\nThe Piruts began to slack off. Stones still whistled past Kirk's\n head—a couple of them had grazed him by now—and spears showered down,\n but they weren't climbing the walls any more.\n\n\n Randl grounded his spear, gasping. \"That's that. Pretty soon they'll\n break, and then we can start thinking about....\"\n\n\n He stopped. Kirk put a stone accurately through the back of a Pirut's\n head and said grimly:\n\n\n \"Yeah. About what\nwe're\ngoing to do.\"\n\n\n Randl didn't answer. He sat down suddenly, doubled over. Kirk grinned.\n \"Take it easy,\" he said softly. \"I'll cover you.\"\n\n\n Randl whispered, \"Wes. Wes!\" He held up one thin hand. Kirk let his own\n drop, looking at it. There was blood on it, running clear to the elbow.\n\n\n He went down beside Randl, putting his arms around him, trying to see.\n Randl shook him off.\n\n\n \"Don't move me, you fool! Just listen.\" His voice was harsh and rapid.\n He was holding both hands over the left side of his neck, where it\n joined the shoulder. Kirk could see the bright blood beating up through\n his fingers.\n\n\n He said, \"Jakk, I'll get the sawbones....\"\n\n\n Hot black eyes turned to his. Burnt-out fires in a face with the young\n beard hardly full on its sharp jaw.\n\n\n \"Sit down, Wes, quick, and listen. Sawbones is no good—and why would\n I want to go on living anyway?\"\n\n\n He smiled. Kirk had never seen him smile like that, without bitterness\n or pain. He sat down, crouched on the body of a man who lived only two\n huts away from him. The blood made little red fountains between Randl's\n fingers.\n\n\n \"It's up to you, Wes. You're the only one that really knows about the\n Ship. You'll do better than I would, anyhow. You're a fighter. You\n carry it on, so the Hans can live. Promise.\"\n\n\n Kirk nodded. He couldn't say anything. The heat was dying in Randl's\n eyes.\n\n\n \"Listen, Wes. I saw the secret way into Ship. Bend closer, and\n listen....\"\n\n\n Kirk bent. He didn't move for a long time. After a while Randl's voice\n stopped, and then the blood wasn't pumping any more, just oozing.\n Randl's hands slid away, so that Kirk could see the hole the stone had\n made. Everything seemed to be very quiet.\n\n\n Kirk sat there, holding Randl in his arms.\n\n\n Presently someone came up and shook Kirk's shoulder and said, \"Hey,\n kid, are you deaf? We been yelling for you.\" He stopped, and then said\n more gently, \"Oh. Jakk got it, did he?\"\n\n\n Kirk laid the body carefully on the stones and got up. \"Yeah.\"\n\n\n \"Kind of a pal of yours, wasn't he?\"\n\n\n \"He wasn't very strong. He needed someone to cover him.\"\n\n\n \"Too bad.\" The man shook his head, and then shrugged. \"Maybe it's\n better, at that. He was headed for trouble, that one. Kinda leading you\n that way, too, I heard. Always talking.\"\n\n\n He looked at Kirk's face and shut up suddenly. He turned away and\n grunted over his shoulders, \"The O.D.'s looking for you.\"\n\n\n Kirk followed. The wind was cold, howling up from the outer gullies.\nThe Officer of the Day was waiting at the north end of the wall.\n There was a ladder dropped over it now, and men were climbing up and\n down with bodies and sheaves of recovered spears. More were busy down\n below, rolling the dead Piruts and the shags down into the deep gullies\n for the scavenger rats and the living shags who didn't mind turning\n cannibal.\n\n\n That ladder made Kirk think of Pa. It was the only way for a man to get\n into the outer gullies from the west escarpment of the colony. He shook\n some of the queer heaviness out of his head, touched his forelock and\n said:\n\n\n \"I'm Wes Kirk, sir. You wanted me?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\" The O.D. was also the Third Officer. Taller than Kirk, thinner,\n with the hair going grey on his body and exhausted eyes sunk deep under\n his horny overlids. He said quietly:\n\n\n \"I'm sorry to have to tell you this....\"\n\n\n Kirk knew. The knowledge leaped through him. It was strange, to feel a\n spear-stab where there was no spear.\n\n\n He said, \"Pa.\"\n\n\n The Officer nodded. He seemed very tired, and he didn't look at Kirk.\n He hadn't, after the first glance.\n\n\n \"Your father, and his two friends.\"\n\n\n Kirk shivered. The horny lids dropped over his eyes. \"I wish I'd\n known,\" he whispered. \"I'd have killed more of them.\"\n\n\n The Officer put his hands flat on the top of the wall and looked at\n them as if they were strange things and no part of him.\n\n\n \"Kirk,\" he said, \"this is going to be hard to explain. I've never done\n anything as hard. The Piruts didn't kill them. They were responsible,\n but they didn't actually kill them.\"\n\n\n Wes raised his head slowly. \"I don't understand.\"\n\n\n \"We saw them coming up the tongue of rock. The Piruts were behind them,\n but not far. Not far enough. One of the three, it wasn't your father,\n called to us to put the ladder down. We waited....\"\n\n\n A muscle began to twitch under Kirk's eye. That, too, was something\n that had never happened before, like the stab of pain with no spear\n behind it. He licked his lips and repeated hoarsely:\n\n\n \"I don't understand.\"\n\n\n The Officer tightened suddenly and made one hand into a fist and beat\n it slowly on the wall, up and down.\n\n\n \"I didn't want to give the order. God knows I didn't want to! But there\n was nothing else to do.\"\n\n\n A man came up over the top of the ladder. He was carrying a body over\n his shoulder, and breathing hard.\n\n\n \"Here's Kirk,\" he said. \"Where'll I put him?\"\n\n\n There was a clear space off to the right. Kirk pointed to it. \"Over\n there, Charley. I'll help.\"\n\n\n It was hard to move. He'd never been tired like this before. He'd never\n been afraid like this, either. He didn't know what he was afraid of.\n Something in the Officer's voice.\n\n\n He helped to lay his father down. He'd seen bodies before. He'd handled\n them, fighting on the pillbox walls. But never one he'd known so long,\n one he'd eaten and slept and wrestled with. The thick arm that hauled\n him out of bed this morning, the big hands that warmed the baby against\n the barrel chest. You saw it lying lax and cold, but you didn't believe\n it.\n\n\n You saw it. You saw the spear shaft sticking out clean from the\n heart....\n\n\n You saw it....\n\n\n \"That's one of our spears!\" He screamed it, like a woman. \"One of our\n own—from the front!\"\n\n\n \"I let them get as close as I dared,\" said the Officer tonelessly. \"I\n tried to find a way. But there wasn't any way but the ladder, and that\n was what the Piruts wanted. That's why they made them come.\"\n\n\n Kirk's voice wasn't a voice at all. \"You killed them. You killed my\n father.\"\n\n\n \"Three lives, against all those back on the plain. We held our fire\n too long as it was, hoping. The Piruts nearly broke through. Try to\n understand! I had to do it.\"\n\n\n Kirk's spear made a flat clatter on the stone. He started forward. Men\n moved in and held him, without rancor, looking at their own feet.\n\n\n \"Please try to understand,\" whispered the Officer. \"I had to do it.\"\n\n\n The Officer, the bloody wall, the stars and the cold grey gullies all\n went away. There was nothing but darkness, and wind, a long way off.\n Kirk thought of Pa coming up under the wall, close to safety, close\n enough to touch it, and no way through. Pa and Frank and Russ, standing\n under the wall, looking up, and no way through.\n\n\n Looking up, calling to the men they knew, asking for help and getting a\n spear through the heart.\n\n\n After that, even the wind was gone, and the darkness had turned red.\nThere was a voice, a long way off. It said, \"God, he's strong!\" Over\n and over. It got louder. There were weights on his arms and legs, and\n he couldn't throw them off. He was pressed against something.\n\n\n It was the wall. He saw that after a while. The wall where the Officer\n had been standing. There were six men holding him, three on each side.\n The Officer was gone.\n\n\n Kirk relaxed. He was shivering and covered with rime from body sweat.\n Somebody whistled.\n\n\n \"Six men! Didn't know the kid had it in him.\"\n\n\n The Officer's voice said dully, \"No discipline. Better take him home.\"\n\n\n Kirk tried to turn. The six men swung with him. Kirk said, \"You better\n discipline me. You better kill me, because, if you don't, I'll kill\n you.\"\n\n\n \"I don't blame you, boy. Go and rest. You'll understand.\"\n\n\n \"I'll understand, all right.\" Kirk's voice was a hoarse, harsh whisper\n that came out by itself and wouldn't be stopped. \"I'll understand about\n Pa, and the Ship with the heat-stones in it, and the Captain's yellow\n daughter getting fat and warm while my sisters freeze and go hungry.\n I'll understand, and I'll make everybody else understand, too!\"\n\n\n The Officer's eyes held a quick fire. \"Boy! Do you know what you're\n saying?\"\n\n\n \"You bet I know!\"\n\n\n \"That's mutiny. For God's sake, don't make things worse!\"\n\n\n \"Worse for us, or for you?\" Kirk was shouting, holding his head up in\n the wind. \"Listen, you men! Do you know what the Officers are doing up\n there in the Ship they won't let us touch?\"\n\n\n There was an uneasy stirring among the Hans, a slipping aside of\n luminous black eyes. The Officer shut his jaw tight. He stepped in\n close to Kirk.\n\n\n \"Shut up,\" he said urgently. \"Don't make me punish you, not now. You're\n talking rot, but it's dangerous.\"\n\n\n Kirk's eyes were hot and not quite sane. He couldn't have stopped if\n he'd wanted to.\n\n\n \"Rot, is it? Jakk Randl knew. He saw with his own eyes and he told me\n while he was dying. The Captain's yellow daughter, sneaking heat-stones\n into....\"\n\n\n The Officer hit him on the jaw, carefully and without heat. Kirk sagged\n down. The Officer stepped back, looking as though he had a pain in him\n that he didn't want to show.\n\n\n He said quietly, but so that everyone could hear him, \"Discipline, for\n not longer than it takes to clear the rock below.\"\n\n\n Two of the men nodded and took Kirk away down a flight of stone steps.\n One of the four who were left looked over the wall and spat.\n\n\n \"Rock's pretty near clean,\" he said, \"but even so....\" He shook himself\n like a dog. \"That Jakk Randl, he was always talking.\"\n\n\n One of the others flicked a quick look around and whispered, \"Yeah. And\n maybe he knew what he was talking about!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is not clearly an element of injustice in this story?", "question_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL_1", "options": ["Heat stones were unfairly distributed", "There was classism", "Kirk's father was harmed", "There was rampant sexism"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why might one not want to live in the universe in which this story takes place?", "question_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL_2", "options": ["Kids at Kirk's age are routinely hazed and attacked", "Mothers have to support the family through drastic measures", "Survival itself is difficult", "The individuals in the community are not accepting of others"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Kirk's friend considered dangerous to the community?", "question_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL_3", "options": ["He ran his mouth too much", "He disobeyed orders regularly", "He threatened violence against his peers", "He tried to kill a fellow citizen"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Is Kirk's friend actually dangerous to the community?", "question_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL_4", "options": ["Yes, he hated most people in the community", "No, he just opposed the current leader", "No, he just wanted to point out injustice", "Yes, he was planning on inciting violence"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Is Kirk a model citizen?", "question_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL_5", "options": ["No, he hated the systems enforced by his community.", "Yes, he followed all the rules set out by the Officers.", "No, he wanted to kill the leader's son.", "Yes, he was kind to his family and friends."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What happened to Kirk's father?", "question_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL_6", "options": ["His father was killed by a fellow citizen", "His father was trapped in a barrier until he died", "His father was killed by the enemy", "His father accidentally fell to his death"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are the gender roles like in this community?", "question_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL_7", "options": ["The women hunt and the men watch the children", "Men and women do an equal amount of raising the kids", "Women do a lot of the business on behalf of each family", "Men have to protect the group regularly"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, what best summarizes this story?", "question_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL_8", "options": ["A boy has to prevent his friend from getting himself in danger.", "A boy realizes the full extent to which his community supports him.", "A boy has to protect his whole family indefinitely.", "A boy realizes the full extent to which his community oppresses him."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who is Kirk most mad at in this story?", "question_unique_id": "62382_O6HCHTPL_9", "options": ["His younger sister", "His peers who spoke to him post-battle", "His friend on the battlefield", "The officer who spoke to him post-battle"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0006", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/2/3/8/62382//62382-h//62382-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63862", "set_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Stalemate in Space", "year": 1954, "author": "Harness, Charles L.", "topic": "War stories; Adventure stories; Science fiction; Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; PS", "article": "*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK STALEMATE IN SPACE ***\nStalemate In Space\nBy CHARLES L. HARNESS\nTwo mighty metal globes clung in a murderous\n\n death-struggle, lashing out with flames of poison.\n\n Yet deep in their twisted, radioactive wreckage\n\n the main battle raged—where a girl swayed\n\n sensuously before her conqueror's mocking eyes.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1949.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nAt first there was only the voice, a monotonous murmur in her ears.\n\n\n \"\nDie now—die now—die now\n—\"\n\n\n Evelyn Kane awoke, breathing slowly and painfully. The top of the\n cubicle was bulging inward on her chest, and it seemed likely that a\n rib or two was broken. How long ago? Years? Minutes? She had no way of\n knowing. Her slender right hand found the oxygen valve and turned it.\n For a long while she lay, hurting and breathing helplessly.\n\n\n \"\nDie now—die now—die now\n—\"\n\n\n The votron had awakened her with its heart-breaking code message, and\n it was her duty to carry out its command. Nine years after the great\n battle globes had crunched together the mentors had sealed her in this\n tiny cell, dormant, unwaking, to be livened only when it was certain\n her countrymen had either definitely won—or lost.\n\n\n The votron's telepathic dirge chronicled the latter fact. She had\n expected nothing else.\n\n\n She had only to find the relay beside her cot, press the key that would\n set in motion gigantic prime movers in the heart of the great globe,\n and the conquerors would join the conquered in the wide and nameless\n grave of space.\n\n\n But life, now doled out by the second, was too delicious to abandon\n immediately. Her mind, like that of a drowning person, raced hungrily\n over the memories of her past.\n\n\n For twenty years, in company with her great father, she had watched\nThe Defender\ngrow from a vast metal skeleton into a planet-sized\n battle globe. But it had not grown fast enough, for when the Scythian\n globe,\nThe Invader\n, sprang out of black space to enslave the budding\n Terran Confederacy,\nThe Defender\nwas unfinished, half-equipped, and\n undermanned.\n\n\n The Terrans could only fight for time and hope for a miracle.\nThe Defender\n, commanded by her father, Gordon, Lord Kane, hurled\n itself from its orbit around Procyon and met\nThe Invader\nwith giant\n fission torpedoes.\n\n\n And then, in an intergalactic proton storm beyond the Lesser Magellanic\n Cloud, the globes lost their bearings and collided. Hordes of brute-men\n poured through the crushed outer armor of the stricken\nDefender\n.\n\n\n The prone woman stirred uneasily. Here the images became unreal\n and terrible, with the recurrent vision of death. It had taken the\n Scythians nine years to conquer\nThe Defender's\nouter shell. Then had\n come that final interview with her father.\n\n\n \"In half an hour our last space port will be captured,\" he had\n telepathed curtly. \"Only one more messenger ship can leave\nThe\n Defender\n. Be on it.\"\n\n\n \"No. I shall die here.\"\n\n\n His fine tired eyes had studied her face in enigmatic appraisal. \"Then\n die usefully. The mentors are trying to develop a force that will\n destroy both globes in the moment of our inevitable defeat. If they are\n successful, you will have the task of pressing the final button of the\n battle.\"\n\n\n \"There's an off-chance you may survive,\" countered a mentor. \"We're\n also working on a means for your escape—not only because you are\n Gordon's daughter, but because this great proton storm will prevent\n radio contact with Terra for years, and we want someone to escape with\n our secret if and when our experiments prove successful.\"\n\n\n \"But you must expect to die,\" her father had warned with gentle\n finality.\n\n\n She clenched her fingernails vehemently into her palms and wrenched\n herself back to the present.\n\n\n That time had come.\n\n\n With some effort she worked herself out of the crumpled bed and lay on\n the floor of her little cubicle, panting and holding her chest with\n both hands. The metal floor was very cold. Evidently the enemy torpedo\n fissionables had finally broken through to the center portions of the\n ship, letting in the icy breath of space. Small matter. Not by freezing\n would she die.\n\n\n She reached out her hand, felt for the all-important key, and gasped in\n dismay. The mahogany box containing the key had burst its metal bonds\n and was lying on its side. The explosion that had crushed her cubicle\n had been terrific.\n\n\n With a gurgle of horror she snapped on her wrist luminar and examined\n the interior of the box.\n\n\n It was a shattered ruin.\nOnce the fact was clear, she composed herself and lay there, breathing\n hard and thinking. She had no means to construct another key. At best,\n finding the rare tools and parts would take months, and during the\n interval the invaders would be cutting loose from the dead hulk that\n clutched their conquering battle globe in a metallic rigor mortis.\n\n\n She gave herself six weeks to accomplish this stalemate in space.\n\n\n Within that time she must know whether the prime movers were still\n intact, and whether she could safely enter the pile room herself,\n set the movers in motion, and draw the moderator columns. If it were\n unsafe, she must secure the unwitting assistance of her Scythian\n enemies.\n\n\n Still prone, she found the first-aid kit and taped her chest expertly.\n The cold was beginning to make itself felt, so she flicked on the\n chaudiere she wore as an under-garment to her Scythian woman's uniform.\n Then she crawled on her elbows and stomach to the tiny door, spun the\n sealing gear, and was soon outside. Ignoring the pain and pulling on\n the side of the imitation rock that contained her cell, she got slowly\n to her feet. The air was thin indeed, and frigid. She turned the valve\n of her portable oxygen bottle almost subconsciously, while exploring\n the surrounding blackened forest as far as she could see. Mentally she\n was alert for roving alien minds. She had left her weapons inside the\n cubicle, except for the three things in the little leather bag dangling\n from her waist, for she knew that her greatest weapon in the struggle\n to come would be her apparent harmlessness.\n\n\n Four hundred yards behind her she detected the mind of a low-born\n Scythe, of the Tharn sun group. Very quickly she established it as that\n of a tired, brutish corporal, taking a mop-up squad through the black\n stumps and forlorn branches of the small forest that for years had\n supplied oxygen to the defenders of this sector.\n\n\n The corporal could not see her green Scythian uniform clearly, and\n evidently took her for a Terran woman. In his mind was the question:\n Should he shoot immediately, or should he capture her? It had been two\n months since he had seen a woman. But then, his orders were to shoot.\n Yes, he would shoot.\n\n\n Evelyn turned in profile to the beam-gun and stretched luxuriously,\n hoping that her grimace of pain could not be detected. With\n satisfaction, she sensed a sudden change of determination in the mind\n of the Tharn. The gun was lowered, and the man was circling to creep up\n behind her. He did not bother to notify his men. He wanted her first.\n He had seen her uniform, but that deterred him not a whit. Afterwards,\n he would call up the squad. Finally, they would kill her and move on.\n Women auxiliaries had no business here, anyway.\n\n\n Hips dipping, Evelyn sauntered into the shattered copse. The man moved\n faster, though still trying to approach quietly. Most of the radions in\n the mile-high ceiling had been destroyed, and the light was poor. He\n was not surprised when he lost track of his quarry. He tip-toed rapidly\n onward, picking his way through the charred and fallen branches,\n thinking that she must turn up again soon. He had not gone twenty yards\n in this manner when a howl of unbearable fury sounded in his mind, and\n the dull light in his brain went out.\nShe fought for her life under that mile-high ceiling.\nBreathing deeply from her mental effort, the woman stepped from\n behind a great black tree trunk and hurried to the unconscious man.\n For I.Q.'s of 100 and less, telepathic cortical paralysis was quite\n effective. With cool efficiency and no trace of distaste she stripped\n the odorous uniform from the man, then took his weapon, turned the beam\n power down very low, and needled a neat slash across his throat. While\n he bled to death, she slipped deftly into the baggy suit, clasped the\n beam gun by the handle, and started up the sooty slope. For a time, at\n least, it would be safer to pass as a Tharn soldier than as any kind of\n a woman.\nII\n\n\n The inquisitor leaned forward, frowning at the girl before him.\n\n\n \"Name?\"\n\n\n \"Evelyn Kane.\"\n\n\n The eyes of the inquisitor widened. \"So you admit to a Terran name.\n Well, Terran, you are charged with having stolen passage on a supply\n lorry, and you also seem to be wearing the uniform of an infantry\n corporal as well as that of a Scythian woman auxiliary. Incidentally,\n where is the corporal? Did you kill him?\"\n\n\n He was prepared for a last-ditch denial. He would cut it short, have\n the guards remove her, and execution would follow immediately. In a\n way, it was unfortunate. The woman was obviously of a high Terran\n class. No—he couldn't consider that. His slender means couldn't afford\n another woman in his quarters, and besides, he wouldn't feel safe with\n this cool murderess.\n\n\n \"Do you not understand the master tongue? Why did you kill the\n corporal?\" He leaned impatiently over his desk.\n\n\n The woman stared frankly back at him with her clear blue eyes. The\n guards on either side of her dug their nails into her arms, as was\n their custom with recalcitrant prisoners, but she took no notice.\n\n\n She had analyzed the minds of the three men. She could handle the\n inquisitor alone or the two guards alone, but not all three.\n\n\n \"If you aren't afraid of me, perhaps you'd be so kind as to send the\n guards out for a few minutes,\" she said, placing a hand on her hip. \"I\n have interesting information.\"\n\n\n So that was it. Buy her freedom by betraying fugitive Terrans. Well, he\n could take the information and then kill her. He nodded curtly to the\n guards, and they walked out of the hut, exchanging sly winks with one\n another.\n\n\n Evelyn Kane crossed her arms across her chest and felt her broken rib\n gingerly. The inquisitor stared up at her in sadistic admiration. He\n would certainly be on hand for the execution. His anticipation was cut\n short with a horrible realization. Under the paralyzing force of a mind\n greater than his own, he reached beneath the desk and switched off the\n recorder.\n\n\n \"Who is the Occupational Commandant for this Sector,\" she asked\n tersely. This must be done swiftly before the guards returned.\n\n\n \"Perat, Viscount of Tharn,\" replied the man mechanically.\n\n\n \"What is the extent of his jurisdiction?\"\n\n\n \"From the center of the Terran globe, outward four hundred miles\n radius.\"\n\n\n \"Good. Prepare for me the usual visa that a woman clerk needs for\n passage to the offices of the Occupational Commandant.\"\n\n\n The inquisitor filled in blanks in a stiff sheet of paper and stamped a\n seal at its bottom.\n\n\n \"You will add in the portion reserved for 'comments', the following:\n 'Capable clerk. Others will follow as they are found available.'\"\n\n\n The man's pen scratched away obediently.\n\n\n Evelyn Kane smiled gently at the impotent, inwardly raging inquisitor.\n She took the paper, folded it, and placed it in a pocket in her blouse.\n \"Call the guards,\" she ordered.\n\n\n He pressed the button on his desk, and the guards re-entered.\n\n\n \"This person is no longer a prisoner,\" said the inquisitor woodenly.\n \"She is to take the next transport to the Occupational Commandant of\n Zone One.\"\n\n\n When the transport had left, neither inquisitor nor guards had any\n memory of the woman. However, in the due course of events, the\n recording was gathered up with many others like it, boxed carefully,\n and sent to the Office of the Occupational Commandant, Zone One, for\n auditing.\nEvelyn was extremely careful with her mental probe as she descended\n from the transport. The Occupational Commandant would undoubtedly\n be high-born and telepathic. He must not have occasion to suspect a\n similar ability in a mere clerk.\n\n\n Fighting had passed this way, too, and recently. Many of the buildings\n were still smoking, and many of the radions high above were either\n shot out or obscured by slowly drifting dust clouds. The acrid odor of\n radiation-remover was everywhere.\n\n\n She caught the sound of spasmodic small-arm fire.\n\n\n \"What is that?\" she asked the transport attendant.\n\n\n \"The Commandant is shooting prisoners,\" he replied laconically.\n\n\n \"Oh.\"\n\n\n \"Where did you want to go?\"\n\n\n \"To the personnel office.\"\n\n\n \"That way.\" He pointed to the largest building of the group—two\n stories high, reasonably intact.\n\n\n She walked off down the gravel path, which was stained here and there\n with dark sticky red. She gave her visa to the guard at the door and\n was admitted to an improvised waiting room, where another guard eyed\n her stonily. The firing was much nearer. She recognized the obscene\n coughs of a Faeg pistol and began to feel sick.\n\n\n A woman in the green uniform of the Scythe auxiliary came in, whispered\n something to the guard, and then told Evelyn to follow her.\n\n\n In the anteroom a grey cat looked her over curiously, and Evelyn\n frowned. She might have to get rid of the cat if she stayed here. Under\n certain circumstances the animal could prove her deadliest enemy.\n\n\n The next room held a foppish little man, evidently a supervisor of some\n sort, who was studying her visa.\n\n\n \"I'm very happy to have you here, S'ria—ah—\"—he looked at the visa\n suspiciously—\"S'ria Lyn. Do sit down. But, as I was just remarking to\n S'ria Gerek, here\"—he nodded to the other woman, who smiled back—\"I\n wish the field officers would make up their august minds as to whether\n they want you or don't want you. Just why did they transfer you to\n H.Q.?\"\n\n\n She thought quickly. This pompous little ass would have to be given\n some answer that would keep him from checking with the inquisitor. It\n would have to be something personal. She looked at the false black in\n his eyebrows and sideburns, and the artificial way in which he had\n combed hair over his bald spot. She crossed her knees slowly, ignoring\n the narrowing eyes of S'ria Gerek, and smoothed the back of her braided\n yellow hair. He was studying her covertly.\n\n\n \"The men in the fighting zones are uncouth, S'ria Gorph,\" she said\n simply. \"I was told that\nyou\n, that is, I mean—\"\n\n\n \"Yes?\" he was the soul of graciousness. S'ria Gerek began to dictate\n loudly into her mechanical transcriber.\n\n\n Evelyn cleared her throat, averted her eyes, and with some effort,\n managed a delicate flush. \"I meant to say, I thought I would be happier\n working for—working here. So I asked for a transfer.\"\n\n\n S'ria Gorph beamed. \"Splendid. But the occupation isn't over, yet,\n you know. There'll be hard work here for several weeks yet, before we\n cut loose from the enemy globe. But you do your work well\"—winking\n artfully—\"and I'll see that—\"\n\n\n He stopped, and his face took on a hunted look of mingled fear and\n anxiety. He appeared to listen.\n\n\n Evelyn tensed her mind to receive and deceive a mental probe. She was\n certain now that the Zone Commandant was high-born and telepathic. The\n chances were only fifty-fifty that she could delude him for any length\n of time if he became interested in her. He must be avoided if at all\n possible. It should not be too difficult. He undoubtedly had a dozen\n personal secretaries and/or concubines and would take small interest in\n the lowly employees that amused Gorph.\n\n\n Gorph looked at her uncertainly. \"Perat, Viscount of the Tharn Suns,\n sends you his compliments and wishes to see you on the balcony.\" He\n pointed to a hallway. \"All the way through there, across to the other\n wing.\"\n\n\n As she left, she heard all sound in the room stop. The transcribing and\n calculating machines trailed off into a watchful silence, and she could\n feel the eyes of the men and women on her back. She noticed then that\n the Faeg had ceased firing.\nHer heart was beating faster as she walked down the hall. She felt a\n very strong probe flooding over her brain casually, palping with mild\n interest the artificial memories she supplied: Escapades with officers\n in the combat areas. Reprimands. Demotion and transfer. Her deception\n of Gorph. Her anticipation of meeting a real Viscount and hoping he\n would let her dance for him.\n\n\n The questing probe withdrew as idly as it had come, and she breathed\n a sigh of relief. She could not hope to deceive a suspicious telepath\n for long. Perat was merely amused at her \"lie\" to his under-supervisor.\n He had accepted her at her own face value, as supplied by her false\n memories.\n\n\n She opened the door to the balcony and saw a man leaning moodily on the\n balustrade. He gave no immediate notice of her presence.\n\n\n The five hundred and sixth heir of Tharn was of uncertain age, as were\n most of the men of both globes. Only the left side of his face could be\n seen. It was gaunt and leathery, and a deep thin scar lifted the corner\n of his mouth into a satanic smile. A faint paunch was gathering at his\n abdomen, as befitted a warrior turned to boring paper work. His closely\n cut black hair and the two sparkling red-gemmed rings—apparently\n identical—on his right hand seemed to denote a certain fastidiousness\n and unconscious superiority. To Evelyn the jeweled fingers bespoke an\n unnatural contrast to the past history of the man and were symptomatic\n of a personality that could find stimulation only in strange and cruel\n pleasures.\n\n\n In alarm she suddenly realized that she had inadvertently let her\n appraisal penetrate her uncovered conscious mind, and that this probe\n was there awaiting it.\n\n\n \"You are right,\" he said coldly, still staring into the court below.\n \"Now that the long battle is over, there is little left to divert me.\"\n\n\n He pushed the Faeg across the coping toward her. \"Take this.\"\n\n\n He had not as yet looked at her.\n\n\n She crossed the balcony, simultaneously grasping the pistol he offered\n her and looking down into the courtyard. There seemed to be nearly\n twenty Terrans lying about, in pools of their own blood.\n\n\n Only one man, a Terran officer of very high rank—was left standing.\n His arms were folded somberly across his chest, and he studied the\n killer above him almost casually. But when the woman came out, their\n eyes met, and he started imperceptibly.\n\n\n Evelyn Kane felt a horrid chill creeping over her. The man's hair was\n white, now, and his proud face lined with deep furrows, but there could\n be no mistake. It was Gordon, Lord Kane.\n\n\n Her father.\n\n\n The sweat continued to grow on her forehead, and she felt for a moment\n that she needed only to wish hard enough, and this would be a dream.\n A dream of a big, kind, dark-haired man with laugh-wrinkles about his\n eyes, who sat her on his knee when she was a little girl and read\n bedtime stories to her from a great book with many pictures.\n\n\n An icy, amused voice came through: \"Our orders are to kill all\n prisoners. It is entertaining to shoot down helpless men, isn't it? It\n warms me to know that I am cruel and wanton, and worthy of my trust.\"\n\n\n Even in the midst of her horror, a cold, analytical part of her was\n explaining why the Commandant had called her to the balcony. Because\n all captured Terrans had to be killed, he hated his superiors, his own\n men, and especially the prisoners. A task so revolting he could not\n relegate to his own officers. He must do it himself, but he wanted his\n underlings to know he loathed them for it. She was merely a symbol of\n that contempt. His next words did not surprise her.\n\n\n \"It is even more stimulating to require a shuddering female to kill\n them. You are shuddering you know?\"\n\n\n She nodded dumbly. Her palm was so wet that a drop of sweat dropped\n from it to the floor. She was thinking hard. She could kill the\n Commandant and save her father for a little while. But then the\n problem of detonating the pile remained, and it would not be solved\n more quickly by killing the man who controlled the pile area. On the\n contrary if she could get him interested in her—\n\n\n \"So far as our records indicate,\" murmured Perat, \"the man down there\n is the last living Terran within\nThe Defender\n. It occurred to me that\n our newest clerk would like to start off her duties with a bang. The\n Faeg is adjusted to a needle-beam. If you put a bolt between the man's\n eyes, you may dance for me tonight, and perhaps there will be other\n nights—\"\n\n\n The woman seemed lost in thought for a long time. Slowly, she lifted\n the ugly little weapon. The doomed Terran looked up at her peacefully,\n without expression. She lowered the Faeg, her arm trembling.\n\n\n Gordon, Lord Kane, frowned faintly, then closed his eyes. She raised\n the gun again, drew cross hairs with a nerveless wrist, and squeezed\n the trigger. There was a loud, hollow cough, but no recoil. The Terran\n officer, his eyes still closed and arms folded, sank to the ground,\n face up. Blood was running from a tiny hole in his forehead.\n\n\n The man leaning on the balustrade turned and looked at Evelyn, at first\n with amused contempt, then with narrowing, questioning eyes.\n\n\n \"Come here,\" he ordered.\n\n\n The Faeg dropped from her hand. With a titanic effort she activated her\n legs and walked toward him.\n\n\n He was studying her face very carefully.\n\n\n She felt that she was going to be sick. Her knees were so weak that she\n had to lean on the coping.\n\n\n With a forefinger he lifted up the mass of golden curls that hung\n over her right forehead and examined the scar hidden there, where the\n mentors had cut into her frontal lobe. The tiny doll they had created\n for her writhed uneasily in her waist-purse, but Perat seemed to be\n thinking of something else, and missed the significance of the scar\n completely.\n\n\n He dropped his hand. \"I'm sorry,\" he said with a quiet weariness. \"I\n shouldn't have asked you to kill the Terran. It was a sorry joke.\"\n Then: \"Have you ever seen me before?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" she whispered hoarsely. His mind was in hers, verifying the fact.\n\n\n \"Have you ever met my father, Phaen, the old Count of Tharn?\"\n\n\n \"No.\"\n\n\n \"Do you have a son?\"\n\n\n \"No.\"\n\n\n His mind was out of hers again, and he had turned moodily back,\n surveying the courtyard and the dead. \"Gorph will be wondering what\n happened to you. Come to my quarters at the eighth metron tonight.\"\n\n\n Apparently he suspected nothing.\nFather. Father. I had to do it. But we'll all join you, soon. Soon.\nIII\n\n\n Perat lay on his couch, sipping cold purple\nterif\nand following the\n thinly-clad dancer with narrowed eyes. Music, soft and subtle, floated\n from his communications box, illegally tuned to an officer's club\n somewhere. Evelyn made the rhythm part of her as she swayed slowly on\n tiptoe.\n\n\n For the last thirty \"nights\"—the hours allotted to rest and sleep—it\n had been thus. By \"day\" she probed furtively into the minds of the\n office staff, memorizing area designations, channels for official\n messages, and the names and authorizations of occupational field crews.\n By night she danced for Perat, who never took his eyes from her, nor\n his probe from her mind. While she danced it was not too difficult to\n elude the probe. There was an odd autohypnosis in dancing that blotted\n out memory and knowledge.\n\n\n \"Enough for now,\" he ordered. \"Careful of your rib.\"\n\n\n When he had first seen the bandages on her bare chest, that first\n night, she had been ready with a memory of dancing on a freshly waxed\n floor, and of falling.\n\n\n Perat seemed to be debating with himself as she sat down on her own\n couch to rest. He got up, unlocked his desk, and drew out a tiny reel\n of metal wire, which Evelyn recognized as being feed for an amateur\n stereop projector. He placed the reel in a projector that had been\n installed in the wall, flicked off the table luminar, and both of them\n waited in the dark, breathing rather loudly.\n\n\n Suddenly the center of the room was bright with a ball of light some\n two feet in diameter, and inside the luminous sphere were an old man, a\n woman, and a little boy of about four years. They were walking through\n a luxurious garden, and then they stopped, looked up, and waved gaily.\n\n\n Evelyn studied the trio with growing wonder. The old man and the boy\n were complete strangers.\nBut the woman—!\n\"That is Phaen, my father,\" said Perat quietly. \"He stayed at home\n because he hated war. And that is a path in our country estate on\n Tharn-R-VII. The little boy I fail to recognize, beyond a general\n resemblance to the Tharn line.\n\n\n \"But—\ncan you deny that you are the woman\n?\"\n\n\n The stereop snapped off, and she sat wordless in the dark.\n\n\n \"There seemed to be some similarity—\" she admitted. Her throat was\n suddenly dry. Yet, why should she be alarmed? She really didn't know\n the woman.\n\n\n The table luminar was on now, and Perat was prowling hungrily about the\n room, his scar twisting his otherwise handsome face into a snarling\n scowl.\n\n\n \"Similarity! Bah! That loop of hair over her right forehead hid a scar\n identical to yours. I have had the individual frames analyzed!\"\n\n\n Evelyn's hands knotted unconsciously. She forced her body to relax, but\n her mind was racing. This introduced another variable to be controlled\n in her plan for destruction. She\nmust\nmake it a known quantity.\n\n\n \"Did your father send it to you?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"The day before you arrived here. It had been en route for months, of\n course.\"\n\n\n \"What did he say about it?\"\n\n\n \"He said, 'Your widow and son send greetings. Be of good cheer, and\n accept our love.' What nonsense! He knows very well I'm not married and\n that—well, if I have ever fathered any children, I don't know about\n them.\"\n\n\n \"Is that all he said?\"\n\n\n \"That's all, except that he included this ring.\" He pulled one of the\n duplicate jewels from his right middle finger and tossed it to her.\n \"It's identical to the one he had made for me when I entered on my\n majority. For a long time it was thought that it was the only stone of\n its kind on all the planets of the Tharn suns, a mineralogical freak,\n but I guess he found another. But why should I want two of them?\"\n\n\n Evelyn crossed the room and returned the ring.\n\n\n \"Existence is so full of mysteries, isn't it?\" murmured Perat.\n \"Sometimes it seems unfortunate that we must pass through a sentient\n phase on our way to death. This foolish, foolish war. Maybe the old\n count was right.\"\n\n\n \"You could be courtmartialed for that.\"\n\n\n \"Speaking of courtmartials, I've got to attend one tonight—an appeal\n from a death sentence.\" He arose, smoothed his hair and clothes, and\n poured another glass of\nterif\n. \"Some fool inquisitor can't show\n proper disposition of a woman prisoner.\"\n\n\n Evelyn's heart skipped a beat. \"Indeed?\"\n\n\n \"The wretch insists that he could remember if we would just let him\n alone. I suppose he took a bribe. You'll find one now and then who\n tries for a little extra profit.\"\n\n\n She must absolutely not be seen by the condemned inquisitor. The\n stimulus would almost certainly make him remember.\n\n\n \"I'll wait for you,\" she said indifferently, thrusting her arms out in\n a languorous yawn.\n\n\n \"Very well.\" Perat stepped to the door, then turned and looked back at\n her. \"On the other hand, I may need a clerk. It's way after hours, and\n the others have gone.\"\n\n\n Beneath a gesture of wry protest, she swallowed rapidly.\n\n\n \"Perhaps you'd better come,\" insisted Perat.\n\n\n She stood up, unloosed her waist-purse, checked its contents swiftly,\n and then followed him out.\n\n\n This might be a very close thing. From the purse she took a bottle of\n perfume and rubbed her ear lobes casually.\n\n\n \"Odd smell,\" commented Perat, wrinkling his nose.\n\n\n \"Odd scent,\" corrected Evelyn cryptically. She was thinking about\n the earnest faces of the mentors as they instructed her carefully in\n the use of the \"perfume.\" The adrenalin glands, they had explained,\n provided a useful and powerful stimulant to a man in danger. Adrenalin\n slowed the heart and digestion, increased the systole and blood\n pressure, and increased perspiration to cool the skin. But there\n could be too much of a good thing. An overdose of adrenalin, they had\n pointed out, caused almost immediate edema. The lungs filled rapidly\n with the serum and the victim ... drowned. The perfume she possessed\n over-stimulated, in some unknown way, the adrenals of frightened\n persons. It had no effect on inactive adrenals.\n\n\n The question remained—who would be the more frightened, she or the\n condemned inquisitor?\n\n\n She was perspiring freely, and the blonde hair on her arms and neck was\n standing stiffly when Perat opened the door for her and they entered\n the Zone Provost's chambers.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Of the following options, which best describes Evelyn Kane?", "question_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W_1", "options": ["competent and brave", "generous and funny", "selfless and pretty", "careful and considerate"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Does the story have a good ending?", "question_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W_2", "options": ["Unclear, the story ends as Evelyn enters a dangerous situation", "Yes, Evelyn successfully infiltrates the enemy's ranks", "Unclear, Evelyn will likely succeed but the ending fails to confirm this", "No, Evelyn gets caught"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following best describes the tone of the story?", "question_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W_3", "options": ["Humorous", "Intense", "Hopeful", "Calm"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following situations, what was the toughest for Evelyn to handle?", "question_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W_4", "options": ["Having to kill the soldier", "Having to trick the administrator", "Having to shoot the prisoner", "Having to dance for her boss"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was it so difficult for Evelyn to kill the prisoner?", "question_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W_5", "options": ["He's one of her people and she has lingering loyalty", "She wants him to escape but can't let him", "He's her uncle", "He's her father"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Do you think it would be fun to live in the universe in which this story takes place?", "question_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W_6", "options": ["No, the universe has fairly limited economic opportunities and prospects", "Yes, most of the individuals Evelyn interacts with are kindhearted", "Yes, the spaceships and universe are expansive and filled with opportunities", "No, the parts of the universe Evelyn interacts with have a decent amount of hazards and danger"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the characters the reader sees directly in the story, how many would the reader consider to be \"honorable?\"", "question_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W_7", "options": ["Two", "Three", "Zero", "One"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why don't we see Evelyn interact with more of her people?", "question_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W_8", "options": ["Most of them are live prisoners", "Most of them escaped to another galaxy", "Most of them were killed", "Most of them don't want to get involved with her adventure"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, who would most likely enjoy this story and why?", "question_unique_id": "63862_ZK5EYM9W_9", "options": ["Readers of war and espionage novels, because of the elements of deceit in the story", "Mystery fans, because the story unravels slowly and answers questions along the way", "Sci-fi nerds, because of the battleship and space components of the story", "Romance fans, because of her relationship with her superior"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/6/63862//63862-h//63862-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "40965", "set_unique_id": "40965_ZUFZ7UG6", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Time and the Woman", "year": 1956, "author": "Dewey, G. Gordon", "topic": "Science fiction; Space travelers -- Fiction; Women -- Fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "TIME and the WOMAN\nBy Dewey, G. Gordon\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Orbit volume 1 number\n 2, 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\nHER ONLY PASSION WAS BEAUTY—BEAUTY WHICH WOULD LAST FOREVER.\n AND FOR IT—SHE'D DO ANYTHING!\n\n Ninon stretched. And purred, almost. There was something lazily catlike\n in her flexing; languid, yet ferally alert. The silken softness of her\n couch yielded to her body as she rubbed against it in sensual delight.\n There was almost the litheness of youth in her movements.\n\n\n It was true that some of her joints seemed to have a hint of stiffness\n in them, but only\nshe\nknew it. And if some of the muscles beneath her\n polished skin did not respond with quite the resilience of the youth\n they once had, only\nshe\nknew that, too.\nBut they would again\n, she\n told herself fiercely.\n\n\n She caught herself. She had let down her guard for an instant, and a\n frown had started. She banished it imperiously. Frowns—just one\n frown—could start a wrinkle! And nothing was as stubborn as a wrinkle.\n One soft, round, white, long-nailed finger touched here, and here, and\n there—the corners of her eyes, the corners of her mouth, smoothing\n them.\n\n\n Wrinkles acknowledged only one master, the bio-knife of the facial\n surgeons. But the bio-knife could not thrust deep enough to excise the\n stiffness in a joint; was not clever enough to remold the outlines of a\n figure where they were beginning to blur and—sag.\n\n\n No one else could see it—yet. But Ninon could!\n\n\n Again the frown almost came, and again she scourged it fiercely into the\n back of her mind. Time was her enemy. But she had had other enemies, and\n destroyed them, one way or another, cleverly or ruthlessly as\n circumstances demanded. Time, too, could be destroyed. Or enslaved.\n Ninon sorted through her meagre store of remembered reading. Some old\n philosopher had said, \"If you can't whip 'em, join 'em!\" Crude, but apt.\n\n\n Ninon wanted to smile. But smiles made wrinkles, too. She was content to\n feel that sureness of power in her grasp—the certain knowledge that\n she, first of all people, would turn Time on itself and destroy it. She\n would be youthful again. She would thread through the ages to come, like\n a silver needle drawing a golden filament through the layer on layer of\n the cloth of years that would engarment her eternal youth. Ninon knew\n how.\n\n\n Her shining, gray-green eyes strayed to the one door in her apartment\n through which no man had ever gone. There the exercising machines; the\n lotions; the unguents; the diets; the radioactive drugs; the records of\n endocrine transplantations, of blood transfusions. She dismissed them\n contemptuously. Toys! The mirages of a pseudo-youth. She would leave\n them here for someone else to use in masking the downhill years.\n\n\n There, on the floor beside her, was the answer she had sought so long. A\n book. \"Time in Relation to Time.\" The name of the author, his academic\n record in theoretical physics, the cautious, scientific wording of his\n postulates, meant nothing to her. The one thing that had meaning for her\n was that Time could be manipulated. And she would manipulate it. For\n Ninon!\n\n\n The door chimes tinkled intimately. Ninon glanced at her watch—Robert\n was on time. She arose from the couch, made sure that the light was\n behind her at just the right angle so he could see the outlines of her\n figure through the sheerness of her gown, then went to the door and\n opened it.\n\n\n A young man stood there. Young, handsome, strong, his eyes aglow with\n the desire he felt, Ninon knew, when he saw her. He took one quick step\n forward to clasp her in his strong young arms.\n\n\n \"Ninon, my darling,\" he whispered huskily.\n\n\n Ninon did not have to make her voice throaty any more, and that annoyed\n her too. Once she had had to do it deliberately. But now, through the\n years, it had deepened.\n\n\n \"Not yet, Robert,\" she whispered. She let him feel the slight but firm\n resistance so nicely calculated to breach his own; watched the deepening\n flush of his cheeks with the clinical sureness that a thousand such\n experiences with men had given her.\n\n\n Then, \"Come in, Robert,\" she said, moving back a step. \"I've been\n waiting for you.\"\n\n\n She noted, approvingly, that Robert was in his spaceman's uniform, ready\n for the morrow's flight, as he went past her to the couch. She pushed\n the button which closed and locked the door, then seated herself beside\n the young spaceman on the silken couch.\n\n\n His hands rested on her shoulders and he turned her until they faced\n each other.\n\n\n \"Ninon,\" he said, \"you are so beautiful. Let me look at you for a long\n time—to carry your image with me through all of time and space.\"\n\n\n Again Ninon let him feel just a hint of resistance, and risked a tiny\n pout. \"If you could just take me with you, Robert....\"\n\n\n Robert's face clouded. \"If I only could!\" he said wistfully. \"If there\n were only room. But this is an experimental flight—no more than two can\n go.\"\n\n\n Again his arms went around her and he leaned closer.\n\n\n \"Wait!\" Ninon said, pushing him back.\n\n\n \"Wait? Wait for what?\" Robert glanced at his watch. \"Time is running\n out. I have to be at the spaceport by dawn—three hours from now.\"\n\n\n Ninon said, \"But that's three hours, Robert.\"\n\n\n \"But I haven't slept yet tonight. There's been so much to do. I should\n rest a little.\"\n\n\n \"I'll be more than rest for you.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Ninon.... Oh, yes.\"\n\n\n \"Not yet, darling.\" Again her hands were between them. \"First, tell me\n about the flight tomorrow.\"\n\n\n The young spaceman's eyes were puzzled, hurt. \"But Ninon, I've told you\n before ... there is so much of you that I want to remember ... so little\n time left ... and you'll be gone when I get back....\"\n\n\n Ninon let her gray-green eyes narrow ever so slightly as she leaned away\n from him. But he blundered on.\n\n\n \"... or very old, no longer the Ninon I know ... oh, all right. But you\n know all this already. We've had space flight for years, but only\n rocket-powered, restricting us to our own system. Now we have a new kind\n of drive. Theoretically we can travel faster than light—how many times\n faster we don't know yet. I'll start finding out tomorrow, with the\n first test flight of the ship in which the new drive is installed. If it\n works, the universe is ours—we can go anywhere.\"\n\n\n \"Will it work?\" Ninon could not keep the avid greediness out of her\n voice.\n\n\n Robert said, hesitantly, \"We think it will. I'll know better by this\n time tomorrow.\"\n\n\n \"What of you—of me—. What does this mean to us—to people?\"\n\n\n Again the young spaceman hesitated. \"We ... we don't know, yet. We think\n that time won't have the same meaning to everyone....\"\n\n\n \"... When you travel faster than light. Is that it?\"\n\n\n \"Well ... yes. Something like that.\"\n\n\n \"And I'll be—old—or dead, when you get back? If you get back?\"\n\n\n Robert leaned forward and buried his face in the silvery-blonde hair\n which swept down over Ninon's shoulders.\n\n\n \"Don't say it, darling,\" he murmured.\n\n\n This time Ninon permitted herself a wrinkling smile. If she was right,\n and she knew she was, it could make no difference now. There would be no\n wrinkles—there would be only the soft flexible skin, naturally soft and\n flexible, of real youth.\n\n\n She reached behind her, over the end of the couch, and pushed three\n buttons. The light, already soft, dimmed slowly to the faintest of\n glows; a suave, perfumed dusk as precisely calculated as was the exact\n rate at which she let all resistance ebb from her body.\n\n\n Robert's voice was muffled through her hair. \"What were those clicks?\"\n he asked.\n\n\n Ninon's arms stole around his neck. \"The lights,\" she whispered, \"and a\n little automatic warning to tell you when it's time to go....\"\n\n\n The boy did not seem to remember about the third click. Ninon was not\n quite ready to tell him, yet. But she would....\nTwo hours later a golden-voiced bell chimed, softly, musically. The\n lights slowly brightened to no more than the lambent glow which was all\n that Ninon permitted. She ran her fingers through the young spaceman's\n tousled hair and shook him gently.\n\n\n \"It's time to go, Robert,\" she said.\n\n\n Robert fought back from the stubborn grasp of sleep. \"So soon?\" he\n mumbled.\n\n\n \"And I'm going with you,\" Ninon said.\n\n\n This brought him fully awake. \"I'm sorry, Ninon. You can't!\" He sat up\n and yawned, stretched, the healthy stretch of resilient youth. Then he\n reached for the jacket he had tossed over on a chair.\n\n\n Ninon watched him with envious eyes, waiting until he was fully alert.\n\n\n \"Robert!\" she said, and the youth paused at the sharpness of her voice.\n \"How old are you?\"\n\n\n \"I've told you before, darling—twenty-four.\"\n\n\n \"How old do you think I am?\"\n\n\n He gazed at her in silent curiosity for a moment, then said, \"Come to\n think of it, you've never told me. About twenty-two or -three, I'd say.\"\n\n\n \"Tomorrow is my birthday. I'll be fifty-two.\"\n\n\n He stared at her in shocked amazement. Then, as his gaze went over the\n smooth lines of her body, the amazement gave way to disbelief, and he\n chuckled. \"The way you said it, Ninon, almost had me believing you. You\n can't possibly be that old, or anywhere near it. You're joking.\"\n\n\n Ninon's voice was cold. She repeated it: \"I am fifty-two years old. I\n knew your father, before you were born.\"\n\n\n This time she could see that he believed it. The horror he felt was easy\n to read on his face while he struggled to speak. \"Then ... God help\n me ... I've been making love to ... an old woman!\" His voice was low,\n bitter, accusing.\n\n\n Ninon slapped him.\n\n\n He swayed slightly, then his features froze as the red marks of her\n fingers traced across his left cheek. At last he bowed, mockingly, and\n said, \"Your pardon, Madame. I forgot myself. My father taught me to be\n respectful to my elders.\"\n\n\n For that Ninon could have killed him. As he turned to leave, her hand\n sought the tiny, feather-light beta-gun cunningly concealed in the folds\n of her gown. But the driving force of her desire made her stay her hand.\n\n\n \"Robert!\" she said in peremptory tones.\n\n\n The youth paused at the door and glanced back, making no effort to\n conceal the loathing she had aroused in him. \"What do you want?\"\n\n\n Ninon said, \"You'll never make that flight without me.... Watch!\"\n\n\n Swiftly she pushed buttons again. The room darkened, as before. Curtains\n at one end divided and rustled back, and a glowing screen sprang to life\n on the wall revealed behind them. And there, in life and movement and\n color and sound and dimension, she—and Robert—projected themselves,\n together on the couch, beginning at the moment Ninon had pressed the\n three buttons earlier. Robert's arms were around her, his face buried in\n the hair falling over her shoulders....\n\n\n The spaceman's voice was doubly bitter in the darkened room. \"So that's\n it,\" he said. \"A recording! Another one for your collection, I suppose.\n But of what use is it to you? I have neither money nor power. I'll be\n gone from this Earth in an hour. And you'll be gone from it,\n permanently—at your age—before I get back. I have nothing to lose, and\n you have nothing to gain.\"\n\n\n Venomous with triumph, Ninon's voice was harsh even to her ears. \"On the\n contrary, my proud and impetuous young spaceman, I have much to gain,\n more than you could ever understand. When it was announced that you were\n to be trained to command this experimental flight I made it my business\n to find out everything possible about you. One other man is going. He\n too has had the same training, and could take over in your place. A\n third man has also been trained, to stand by in reserve. You are\n supposed to have rested and slept the entire night. If the Commandant of\n Space Research knew that you had not....\"\n\n\n \"I see. That's why you recorded my visit tonight. But I leave in less\n than an hour. You'd never be able to tell Commander Pritchard in time to\n make any difference, and he'd never come here to see....\"\n\n\n Ninon laughed mirthlessly, and pressed buttons again. The screen\n changed, went blank for a moment, then figures appeared again. On the\n couch were she and a man, middle-aged, dignified in appearance,\n uniformed. Blane Pritchard, Commandant of Space Research. His arms were\n around her, and his face was buried in her hair. She let the recording\n run for a moment, then shut it off and turned up the lights.\n\n\n To Robert, she said, \"I think Commander Pritchard would be here in five\n minutes if I called and told him that I have information which seriously\n affects the success of the flight.\"\n\n\n The young spaceman's face was white and stricken as he stared for long\n moments, wordless, at Ninon. Then in defeated tones he said, \"You\n scheming witch! What do you want?\"\n\n\n There was no time to gloat over her victory. That would come later.\n Right now minutes counted. She snatched up a cloak, pushed Robert out\n through the door and hurried him along the hall and out into the street\n where his car waited.\n\n\n \"We must hurry,\" she said breathlessly. \"We can get to the spaceship\n ahead of schedule, before your flight partner arrives, and be gone from\n Earth before anyone knows what is happening. I'll be with you, in his\n place.\"\n\n\n Robert did not offer to help her into the car, but got in first and\n waited until she closed the door behind her, then sped away from the\n curb and through the streets to the spaceport.\n\n\n Ninon said, \"Tell me, Robert, isn't it true that if a clock recedes from\n Earth at the speed of light, and if we could watch it as it did so, it\n would still be running but it would never show later time?\"\n\n\n The young man said gruffly, \"Roughly so, according to theory.\"\n\n\n \"And if the clock went away from Earth faster than the speed of light,\n wouldn't it run backwards?\"\n\n\n The answer was curtly cautious. \"It might appear to.\"\n\n\n \"Then if people travel at the speed of light they won't get any older?\"\n\n\n Robert flicked a curious glance at her. \"If you could watch them from\n Earth they appear not to. But it's a matter of relativity....\"\n\n\n Ninon rushed on. She had studied that book carefully. \"And if people\n travel faster than light, a lot faster, they'll grow younger, won't\n they?\"\n\n\n Robert said, \"So that's what's in your mind.\" He busied himself with\n parking the car at the spaceport, then went on: \"You want to go back in\n the past thirty years, and be a girl again. While I grow younger, too,\n into a boy, then a child, a baby, at last nothing....\"\n\n\n \"I'll try to be sorry for you, Robert.\"\n\n\n Ninon felt again for her beta-gun as he stared at her for a long minute,\n his gaze a curious mixture of amusement and pity. Then, \"Come on,\" he\n said flatly, turning to lead the way to the gleaming space ship which\n poised, towering like a spire, in the center of the blast-off basin. And\n added, \"I think I shall enjoy this trip, Madame, more than you will.\"\n\n\n The young man's words seemed to imply a secret knowledge that Ninon did\n not possess. A sudden chill of apprehension rippled through her, and\n almost she turned back. But no ... there was the ship! There was youth;\n and beauty; and the admiration of men, real admiration. Suppleness in\n her muscles and joints again. No more diets. No more transfusions. No\n more transplantations. No more the bio-knife. She could smile again, or\n frown again. And after a few years she could make the trip again ... and\n again....\nThe space ship stood on fiery tiptoes and leaped from Earth, high into\n the heavens, and out and away. Past rusted Mars. Past the busy\n asteroids. Past the sleeping giants, Jupiter and Saturn. Past pale\n Uranus and Neptune; and frigid, shivering Pluto. Past a senseless,\n flaming comet rushing inward towards its rendezvous with the Sun. And on\n out of the System into the steely blackness of space where the stars\n were hard, burnished points of light, unwinking, motionless; eyes—eyes\n staring at the ship, staring through the ports at Ninon where she lay,\n stiff and bruised and sore, in the contoured acceleration sling.\n\n\n The yammering rockets cut off, and the ship seemed to poise on the ebon\n lip of a vast Stygian abyss.\n\n\n Joints creaking, muscles protesting, Ninon pushed herself up and out of\n the sling against the artificial gravity of the ship. Robert was already\n seated at the controls.\n\n\n \"How fast are we going?\" she asked; and her voice was rusty and harsh.\n\n\n \"Barely crawling, astronomically,\" he said shortly. \"About forty-six\n thousand miles a minute.\"\n\n\n \"Is that as fast as the speed of light?\"\n\n\n \"Hardly, Madame,\" he said, with a condescending chuckle.\n\n\n \"Then make it go faster!\" she screamed. \"And faster and faster—hurry!\n What are we waiting for?\"\n\n\n The young spaceman swivelled about in his seat. He looked haggard and\n drawn from the strain of the long acceleration. Despite herself, Ninon\n could feel the sagging in her own face; the sunkenness of her eyes. She\n felt tired, hating herself for it—hating having this young man see\n her.\n\n\n He said, \"The ship is on automatic control throughout. The course is\n plotted in advance; all operations are plotted. There is nothing we can\n do but wait. The light drive will cut in at the planned time.\"\n\n\n \"Time! Wait! That's all I hear!\" Ninon shrieked. \"Do something!\"\n\n\n Then she heard it. A low moan, starting from below the limit of\n audibility, then climbing, up and up and up and up, until it was a\n nerve-plucking whine that tore into her brain like a white-hot tuning\n fork. And still it climbed, up beyond the range of hearing, and up and\n up still more, till it could no longer be felt. But Ninon, as she\n stumbled back into the acceleration sling, sick and shaken, knew it was\n still there. The light drive!\n\n\n She watched through the ports. The motionless, silent stars were moving\n now, coming toward them, faster and faster, as the ship swept out of the\n galaxy, shooting into her face like blazing pebbles from a giant\n slingshot.\n\n\n She asked, \"How fast are we going now?\"\n\n\n Robert's voice sounded far off as he replied, \"We are approaching the\n speed of light.\"\n\n\n \"Make it go faster!\" she cried. \"Faster! Faster!\"\n\n\n She looked out the ports again; looked back behind them—and saw shining\n specks of glittering blackness falling away to melt into the sootiness\n of space. She shuddered, and knew without asking that these were stars\n dropping behind at a rate greater than light speed.\n\n\n \"Now how fast are we going?\" she asked. She was sure that her voice was\n stronger; that strength was flowing back into her muscles and bones.\n\n\n \"Nearly twice light speed.\"\n\n\n \"Faster!\" she cried. \"We must go much faster! I must be young again.\n Youthful, and gay, and alive and happy.... Tell me, Robert, do you feel\n younger yet?\"\n\n\n He did not answer.\nNinon lay in the acceleration sling, gaining strength, and—she\n knew—youth. Her lost youth, coming back, to be spent all over again.\n How wonderful! No woman in all of time and history had ever done it. She\n would be immortal; forever young and lovely. She hardly noticed the\n stiffness in her joints when she got to her feet again—it was just from\n lying in the sling so long.\n\n\n She made her voice light and gay. \"Are we not going very, very fast,\n now, Robert?\"\n\n\n He answered without turning. \"Yes. Many times the speed of light.\"\n\n\n \"I knew it ... I knew it! Already I feel much younger. Don't you feel it\n too?\"\n\n\n He did not answer, and Ninon kept on talking. \"How long have we been\n going, Robert?\"\n\n\n He said, \"I don't know ... depends on where you are.\"\n\n\n \"It must be hours ... days ... weeks. I should be hungry. Yes, I think I\n am hungry. I'll need food, lots of food. Young people have good\n appetites, don't they, Robert?\"\n\n\n He pointed to the provisions locker, and she got food out and made it\n ready. But she could eat but a few mouthfuls.\nIt's the excitement\n, she\n told herself. After all, no other woman, ever, had gone back through the\n years to be young again....\nLong hours she rested in the sling, gaining more strength for the day\n when they would land back on Earth and she could step out in all the\n springy vitality of a girl of twenty. And then as she watched through\n the ingenious ports she saw the stars of the far galaxies beginning to\n wheel about through space, and she knew that the ship had reached the\n halfway point and was turning to speed back through space to Earth,\n uncounted light-years behind them—or before them. And she would still\n continue to grow younger and younger....\n\n\n She gazed at the slightly-blurred figure of the young spaceman on the\n far side of the compartment, focussing her eyes with effort. \"You are\n looking much younger, Robert,\" she said. \"Yes, I think you are becoming\n quite boyish, almost childish, in appearance.\"\n\n\n He nodded slightly. \"You may be right,\" he said.\n\n\n \"I must have a mirror,\" she cried. \"I must see for myself how much\n younger I have become. I'll hardly recognize myself....\"\n\n\n \"There is no mirror,\" he told her.\n\n\n \"No mirror? But how can I see....\"\n\n\n \"Non-essentials were not included in the supplies on this ship. Mirrors\n are not essential—to men.\"\n\n\n The mocking gravity in his voice infuriated her. \"Then you shall be my\n mirror,\" she said. \"Tell me, Robert, am I not now much younger? Am I not\n becoming more and more beautiful? Am I not in truth the most desirable\n of women?... But I forget. After all, you are only a boy, by now.\"\n\n\n He said, \"I'm afraid our scientists will have some new and interesting\n data on the effects of time in relation to time. Before long we'll begin\n to decelerate. It won't be easy or pleasant. I'll try to make you as\n comfortable as possible.\"\n\n\n Ninon felt her face go white and stiff with rage. \"What do you mean?\"\n\n\n Robert said, coldly brutal, \"You're looking your age, Ninon. Every year\n of your fifty-two!\"\n\n\n Ninon snatched out the little beta-gun, then, leveled it and fired. And\n watched without remorse as the hungry electrons streamed forth to strike\n the young spaceman, turning him into a motionless, glowing figure which\n rapidly became misty and wraith-like, at last to disappear, leaving only\n a swirl of sparkling haze where he had stood. This too disappeared as\n its separate particles drifted to the metallite walls of the space ship,\n discharged their energy and ceased to sparkle, leaving only a thin film\n of dust over all.\nAfter a while Ninon got up again from the sling and made her way to the\n wall. She polished the dust away from a small area of it, trying to make\n the spot gleam enough so that she could use it for a mirror. She\n polished a long time, until at last she could see a ghostly reflection\n of her face in the rubbed spot.\n\n\n Yes, unquestionably she was younger, more beautiful. Unquestionably Time\n was being kind to her, giving her back her youth. She was not sorry that\n Robert was gone—there would be many young men, men her own age, when\n she got back to Earth. And that would be soon. She must rest more, and\n be ready.\n\n\n The light drive cut off, and the great ship slowly decelerated as it\n found its way back into the galaxy from which it had started. Found its\n way back into the System which had borne it. Ninon watched through the\n port as it slid in past the outer planets. Had they changed? No, she\n could not see that they had—only she had changed—until Saturn loomed\n up through the port, so close by, it looked, that she might touch it.\n But Saturn had no rings. Here was change. She puzzled over it a moment,\n frowning then forgot it when she recognized Jupiter again as Saturn fell\n behind. Next would be Mars....\n\n\n But what was this? Not Mars! Not any planet she knew, or had seen\n before. Yet there, ahead, was Mars! A new planet, where the asteroids\n had been when she left! Was this the same system? Had there been a\n mistake in the calculations of the scientists and engineers who had\n plotted the course of the ship? Was something wrong?\n\n\n But no matter—she was still Ninon. She was young and beautiful. And\n wherever she landed there would be excitement and rushing about as she\n told her story. And men would flock to her. Young, handsome men!\n\n\n She tottered back to the sling, sank gratefully into the comfort of it,\n closed her eyes, and waited.\nThe ship landed automatically, lowering itself to the land on a pillar\n of rushing flame, needing no help from its passenger. Then the flame\n died away—and the ship—and Ninon—rested, quietly, serenely, while the\n rocket tubes crackled and cooled. The people outside gathered at a safe\n distance from it, waiting until they could come closer and greet the\n brave passengers who had voyaged through space from no one knew where.\nThere was shouting and laughing and talking, and much speculation.\n\"The ship is from Maris, the red planet,\" someone said.\nAnd another: \"No, no! It is not of this system. See how the hull is\n pitted—it has traveled from afar.\"\nAn old man cried: \"It is a demon ship. It has come to destroy us all.\"\nA murmur went through the crowd, and some moved farther back for\n safety, watching with alert curiosity.\nThen an engineer ventured close, and said, \"The workmanship is similar\n to that in the space ship we are building, yet not the same. It is\n obviously not of our Aerth.\"\nAnd a savant said, \"Yes, not of this Aerth. But perhaps it is from a\n parallel time stream, where there is a system with planets and peoples\n like us.\"\nThen a hatch opened in the towering flank of the ship, and a ramp slid\n forth and slanted to the ground. The mingled voices of the crowd\n attended it. The fearful ones backed farther away. Some stood their\n ground. And the braver ones moved closer.\nBut no one appeared in the open hatch; no one came down the ramp. At\n last the crowd surged forward again.\nAmong them were a youth and a girl who stood, hand in hand, at the foot\n of the ramp, gazing at it and the ship with shining eyes, then at each\n other.\nShe said, \"I wonder, Robin, what it would be like to travel through far\n space on such a ship as that.\"\nHe squeezed her hand and said, \"We'll find out, Nina. Space travel will\n come, in our time, they've always said—and there is the proof of it.\"\nThe girl rested her head against the young man's shoulder. \"You'll be\n one of the first, won't you, Robin? And you'll take me with you?\"\nHe slipped an arm around her. \"Of course. You know, Nina, our\n scientists say that if one could travel faster than the speed of light\n one could live in reverse. So when we get old we'll go out in space,\n very, very fast, and we'll grow young again, together!\"\nThen a shout went up from the two men who had gone up the ramp into the\n ship to greet whoever was aboard. They came hurrying down, and Robin and\n Nina crowded forward to hear what they had to report.\nThey were puffing from the rush of their excitement. \"There is no one\n alive on the ship,\" they cried. \"Only an old, withered, white-haired\n lady, lying dead ... and alone. She must have fared long and far to have\n lived so long, to be so old in death. Space travel must be pleasant,\n indeed. It made her very happy, very, very happy—for there is a smile\n on her face.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Of the following options, which three traits best describe Ninon?", "question_unique_id": "40965_ZUFZ7UG6_1", "options": ["focused, smart, and forgiving", "charismatic, beautiful, and kind", "desperate, omniscient, prepared", "eager, cunning, and desperate"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What best describes the relationship between Ninon and Robert?", "question_unique_id": "40965_ZUFZ7UG6_2", "options": ["Neither character knows about or cares for the other too much.", "They're friends with benefits but each wants a more committed relationship with the other person.", "They're lifelong friends who care for each other.", "They become rivals who'll stop at nothing to ensure the other fails to accomplish their goal."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Is there a romantic connection between Ninon and Robert?", "question_unique_id": "40965_ZUFZ7UG6_3", "options": ["Yes. He cares dearly for her and spends his last night with her and she wants him because of the resources and access he can provide for her.", "Not really. Ninon sees him as a pawn to hijack the flight, and if Robert truly loved Ninon he probably wouldn't end up participating in the space travel.", "Somewhat. They both care for each other but in different ways, it's unclear if they would survive a long-term relationship given Robert's space travel.", "No. Robert only went to Ninon for sex before his takeoff, he wouldn't actually leave if he cared about Ninon's wellbeing."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, what best summarizes this story?", "question_unique_id": "40965_ZUFZ7UG6_4", "options": ["A woman attempts to hijack the flight of an astronaut she's in love with so they can both stay young and beautiful together forever.", "A vain woman has a tough time accepting the natural aging process but eventually succeeds.", "A woman has a plan to reverse her aging process and the reader sees her follow through with it.", "A woman tries to benevolently prove that people can become younger through space travel."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, which is not a technology used in this story?", "question_unique_id": "40965_ZUFZ7UG6_5", "options": ["Guns that cause people to disintegrate rapidly", "Guns that freeze people in time to prevent them from aging", "Cosmetic procedures to enhance youthfulness", "Long-distance space travel"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "If Ninon hadn't had as many procedures, what would've happened?", "question_unique_id": "40965_ZUFZ7UG6_6", "options": ["She would've dated somebody her age rather than Robert and would be happy anyway.", "She wouldn't have been able to hijack the flight because Robert wouldn't want to date someone as old as her.", "She would've looked older and probably would've felt more fulfilled.", "She wouldn't have been able to hijack the flight because her body would've been too old to take on the damage that space travel causes."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "If Robert had refused to take Ninon with him, what would've most likely happened?", "question_unique_id": "40965_ZUFZ7UG6_7", "options": ["Robert would've sneakily gone by himself to the takeoff and ditched Ninon.", "Ninon would've shot and killed him because he'd become useless in her endeavors.", "Ninon would've held him at gunpoint or drugged him until they had successfully completed takeoff.", "Ninon would've talked him into it anyway because he's so dearly in love with her."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the narrative purpose of the video that Ninon shows Robert?", "question_unique_id": "40965_ZUFZ7UG6_8", "options": ["It was to show Ninon's love and dedication to Robert as a potential lifelong partner.", "It was to prove that Ninon thinks little of Robert because he's can easily be replaced as a romantic partner.", "It was to show how much thought Ninon has put into making her plan and how determined she is to see it succeed.", "It was to prove that everyone makes mistakes, and that Ninon is comfortable admitting that she's not perfect."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0011", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/4/0/9/6/40965//40965-h//40965-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "32665", "set_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Anglers of Arz", "year": 1959, "author": "Aycock, Roger D.", "topic": "Science fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "The Anglers of Arz\nBy Roger Dee\nIllustrated by BOB MARTIN\n[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science\n Fiction January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence\n that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThere were two pinkish, bipedal fishermen on the tiny\n islet.\nIn order to make Izaak Walton's sport complete, there must\n be an angler, a fish, and some bait. All three existed on Arz but there\n was a question as to which was which.\nThe third night of the\nMarco Four's\nlandfall on the moonless Altarian\n planet was a repetition of the two before it, a nine-hour intermission\n of drowsy, pastoral peace. Navigator Arthur Farrell—it was his turn to\n stand watch—was sitting at an open-side port with a magnoscanner ready;\n but in spite of his vigilance he had not exposed a film when the\n inevitable pre-dawn rainbow began to shimmer over the eastern ocean.\n\n\n Sunrise brought him alert with a jerk, frowning at sight of two pinkish,\n bipedal Arzian fishermen posted on the tiny coral islet a quarter-mile\n offshore, their blank triangular faces turned stolidly toward the beach.\n\n\n \"They're at it again,\" Farrell called, and dropped to the mossy turf\n outside. \"Roll out on the double! I'm going to magnofilm this!\"\n\n\n Stryker and Gibson came out of their sleeping cubicles reluctantly,\n belting on the loose shorts which all three wore in the balmy Arzian\n climate. Stryker blinked and yawned as he let himself through the port,\n his fringe of white hair tousled and his naked paunch sweating. He\n looked, Farrell thought for the thousandth time, more like a retired\n cook than like the veteran commander of a Terran Colonies expedition.\n\n\n Gibson followed, stretching his powerfully-muscled body like a wrestler\n to throw off the effects of sleep. Gibson was linguist-ethnologist of\n the crew, a blocky man in his early thirties with thick black hair and\n heavy brows that shaded a square, humorless face.\n\n\n \"Any sign of the squids yet?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"They won't show up until the dragons come,\" Farrell said. He adjusted\n the light filter of the magnoscanner and scowled at Stryker. \"Lee, I\n wish you'd let me break up the show this time with a dis-beam. This\n butchery gets on my nerves.\"\n\n\n Stryker shielded his eyes with his hands against the glare of sun on\n water. \"You know I can't do that, Arthur. These Arzians may turn out to\n be Fifth Order beings or higher, and under Terran Regulations our\n tampering with what may be a basic culture-pattern would amount to armed\n invasion. We'll have to crack that cackle-and-grunt language of theirs\n and learn something of their mores before we can interfere.\"\n\n\n Farrell turned an irritable stare on the incurious group of Arzians\n gathering, nets and fishing spears in hand, at the edge of the\n sheltering bramble forest.\n\n\n \"What stumps me is their motivation,\" he said. \"Why do the fools go out\n to that islet every night, when they must know damned well what will\n happen next morning?\"\n\n\n Gibson answered him with an older problem, his square face puzzled. \"For\n that matter, what became of the city I saw when we came in through the\n stratosphere? It must be a tremendous thing, yet we've searched the\n entire globe in the scouter and found nothing but water and a scattering\n of little islands like this one, all covered with bramble. It wasn't a\n city these pink fishers could have built, either. The architecture was\n beyond them by a million years.\"\nStryker and Farrell traded baffled looks. The city had become something\n of a fixation with Gibson, and his dogged insistence—coupled with an\n irritating habit of being right—had worn their patience thin.\n\n\n \"There never was a city here, Gib,\" Stryker said. \"You dozed off while\n we were making planetfall, that's all.\"\n\n\n Gibson stiffened resentfully, but Farrell's voice cut his protest short.\n \"Get set! Here they come!\"\n\n\n Out of the morning rainbow dropped a swarm of winged lizards, twenty\n feet in length and a glistening chlorophyll green in the early light.\n They stooped like hawks upon the islet offshore, burying the two Arzian\n fishers instantly under their snapping, threshing bodies. Then around\n the outcrop the sea boiled whitely, churned to foam by a sudden\n uprushing of black, octopoid shapes.\n\n\n \"The squids,\" Stryker grunted. \"Right on schedule. Two seconds too late,\n as usual, to stop the slaughter.\"\n\n\n A barrage of barbed tentacles lashed out of the foam and drove into the\n melee of winged lizards. The lizards took the air at once, leaving\n behind three of their number who disappeared under the surface like\n harpooned seals. No trace remained of the two Arzian natives.\n\n\n \"A neat example of dog eat dog,\" Farrell said, snapping off the\n magnoscanner. \"Do any of those beauties look like city-builders, Gib?\"\n\n\n Chattering pink natives straggled past from the shelter of the thorn\n forest, ignoring the Earthmen, and lined the casting ledges along the\n beach to begin their day's fishing.\n\n\n \"Nothing we've seen yet could have built that city,\" Gibson said\n stubbornly. \"But it's here somewhere, and I'm going to find it. Will\n either of you be using the scouter today?\"\n\n\n Stryker threw up his hands. \"I've a mountain of data to collate, and\n Arthur is off duty after standing watch last night. Help yourself, but\n you won't find anything.\"\nThe scouter was a speeding dot on the horizon when Farrell crawled into\n his sleeping cubicle a short time later, leaving Stryker to mutter over\n his litter of notes. Sleep did not come to him at once; a vague sense of\n something overlooked prodded irritatingly at the back of his\n consciousness, but it was not until drowsiness had finally overtaken him\n that the discrepancy assumed definite form.\n\n\n He recalled then that on the first day of the\nMarco's\nplanetfall one\n of the pink fishers had fallen from a casting ledge into the water, and\n had all but drowned before his fellows pulled him out with extended\n spear-shafts. Which meant that the fishers could not swim, else some\n would surely have gone in after him.\n\n\n And the Marco's crew had explored Arz exhaustively without finding any\n slightest trace of boats or of boat landings. The train of association\n completed itself with automatic logic, almost rousing Farrell out of his\n doze.\n\n\n \"I'll be damned,\" he muttered. \"No boats, and they don't swim.\nThen how\n the devil do they get out to that islet?\n\"\n\n\n He fell asleep with the paradox unresolved.\nStryker was still humped over his records when Farrell came out of his\n cubicle and broke a packaged meal from the food locker. The visicom over\n the control board hummed softly, its screen blank on open channel.\n\n\n \"Gibson found his lost city yet?\" Farrell asked, and grinned when\n Stryker snorted.\n\n\n \"He's scouring the daylight side now,\" Stryker said. \"Arthur, I'm going\n to ground Gib tomorrow, much as I dislike giving him a direct order.\n He's got that phantom city on the brain, and he lacks the imagination to\n understand how dangerous to our assignment an obsession of that sort can\n be.\"\n\n\n Farrell shrugged. \"I'd agree with you offhand if it weren't for Gib's\n bullheaded habit of being right. I hope he finds it soon, if it's here.\n I'll probably be standing his watch until he's satisfied.\"\n\n\n Stryker looked relieved. \"Would you mind taking it tonight? I'm\n completely bushed after today's logging.\"\n\n\n Farrell waved a hand and took up his magnoscanner. It was dark outside\n already, the close, soft night of a moonless tropical world whose moist\n atmosphere absorbed even starlight. He dragged a chair to the open port\n and packed his pipe, settling himself comfortably while Stryker mixed a\n nightcap before turning in.\n\n\n Later he remembered that Stryker dissolved a tablet in his glass, but at\n the moment it meant nothing. In a matter of minutes the older man's\n snoring drifted to him, a sound faintly irritating against the velvety\n hush outside.\n\n\n Farrell lit his pipe and turned to the inconsistencies he had uncovered.\n The Arzians did not swim, and without boats....\n\n\n It occurred to him then that there had been two of the pink fishers on\n the islet each morning, and the coincidence made him sit up suddenly,\n startled. Why two? Why not three or four, or only one?\n\n\n He stepped out through the open lock and paced restlessly up and down on\n the springy turf, feeling the ocean breeze soft on his face. Three days\n of dull routine logwork had built up a need for physical action that\n chafed his temper; he was intrigued and at the same time annoyed by the\n enigmatic relation that linked the Arzian fishers to the dragons and\n squids, and his desire to understand that relation was aggravated by the\n knowledge that Arz could be a perfect world for Terran colonization.\n That is, he thought wryly, if Terran colonists could stomach the weird\n custom pursued by its natives of committing suicide in pairs.\n\n\n He went over again the improbable drama of the past three mornings, and\n found it not too unnatural until he came to the motivation and the means\n of transportation that placed the Arzians in pairs on the islet, when\n his whole fabric of speculation fell into a tangled snarl of\n inconsistencies. He gave it up finally; how could any Earthman\n rationalize the outlandish compulsions that actuated so alien a race?\n\n\n He went inside again, and the sound of Stryker's muffled snoring fanned\n his restlessness. He made his decision abruptly, laying aside the\n magnoscanner for a hand-flash and a pocket-sized audicom unit which he\n clipped to the belt of his shorts.\n\n\n He did not choose a weapon because he saw no need for one. The torch\n would show him how the natives reached the outcrop, and if he should\n need help the audicom would summon Stryker. Investigating without\n Stryker's sanction was, strictly speaking, a breach of Terran\n Regulations, but—\n\n\n \"Damn Terran Regulations,\" he muttered. \"I've got to\nknow\n.\"\n\n\n Farrell snapped on the torch at the edge of the thorn forest and entered\n briskly, eager for action now that he had begun. Just inside the edge of\n the bramble he came upon a pair of Arzians curled up together on the\n mossy ground, sleeping soundly, their triangular faces wholly blank and\n unrevealing.\n\n\n He worked deeper into the underbrush and found other sleeping couples,\n but nothing else. There were no humming insects, no twittering\n night-birds or scurrying rodents. He had worked his way close to the\n center of the island without further discovery and was on the point of\n turning back, disgusted, when something bulky and powerful seized him\n from behind.\n\n\n A sharp sting burned his shoulder, wasp-like, and a sudden overwhelming\n lassitude swept him into a darkness deeper than the Arzian night. His\n last conscious thought was not of his own danger, but of Stryker—asleep\n and unprotected behind the\nMarco's\nopen port....\nHe was standing erect when he woke, his back to the open sea and a\n prismatic glimmer of early-dawn rainbow shining on the water before him.\n For a moment he was totally disoriented; then from the corner of an eye\n he caught the pinkish blur of an Arzian fisher standing beside him, and\n cried out hoarsely in sudden panic when he tried to turn his head and\n could not.\n\n\n He was on the coral outcropping offshore, and except for the involuntary\n muscles of balance and respiration his body was paralyzed.\n\n\n The first red glow of sunrise blurred the reflected rainbow at his feet,\n but for some seconds his shuttling mind was too busy to consider the\n danger of predicament.\nWhatever brought me here anesthetized me first\n,\n he thought.\nThat sting in my shoulder was like a hypo needle.\nPanic seized him again when he remembered the green flying-lizards; more\n seconds passed before he gained control of himself, sweating with the\n effort. He had to get help. If he could switch on the audicom at his\n belt and call Stryker....\n\n\n He bent every ounce of his will toward raising his right hand, and\n failed.\n\n\n His arm was like a limb of lead, its inertia too great to budge. He\n relaxed the effort with a groan, sweating again when he saw a fiery\n half-disk of sun on the water, edges blurred and distorted by tiny\n surface ripples.\n\n\n On shore he could see the\nMarco Four\nresting between thorn forest and\n beach, its silvered sides glistening with dew. The port was still open,\n and the empty carrier rack in the bow told him that Gibson had not yet\n returned with the scouter.\n\n\n He grew aware then that sensation was returning to him slowly, that the\n cold surface of the audicom unit at his hip—unfelt before—was pressing\n against the inner curve of his elbow. He bent his will again toward\n motion; this time the arm tensed a little, enough to send hope flaring\n through him. If he could put pressure enough against the stud....\n\n\n The tiny click of its engaging sent him faint with relief.\n\n\n \"Stryker!\" he yelled. \"Lee, roll out—\nStryker\n!\"\n\n\n The audicom hummed gently, without answer.\n\n\n He gathered himself for another shout, and recalled with a chill of\n horror the tablet Stryker had mixed into his nightcap the night before.\n Worn out by his work, Stryker had made certain that he would not be\n easily disturbed.\n\n\n The flattened sun-disk on the water brightened and grew rounder. Above\n its reflected glare he caught a flicker of movement, a restless\n suggestion of flapping wings.\nHe tried again. \"Stryker, help me! I'm on the islet!\"\n\n\n The audicom crackled. The voice that answered was not Stryker's, but\n Gibson's.\n\n\n \"Farrell! What the devil are you doing on that butcher's block?\"\n\n\n Farrell fought down an insane desire to laugh. \"Never mind that—get\n here fast, Gib! The flying-lizards—\"\n\n\n He broke off, seeing for the first time the octopods that ringed the\n outcrop just under the surface of the water, waiting with barbed\n tentacles spread and yellow eyes studying him glassily. He heard the\n unmistakable flapping of wings behind and above him then, and thought\n with shock-born lucidity:\nI wanted a backstage look at this show, and\n now I'm one of the cast\n.\n\n\n The scouter roared in from the west across the thorn forest, flashing so\n close above his head that he felt the wind of its passage. Almost\n instantly he heard the shrilling blast of its emergency bow jets as\n Gibson met the lizard swarm head on.\n\n\n Gibson's voice came tinnily from the audicom. \"Scattered them for the\n moment, Arthur—blinded the whole crew with the exhaust, I think. Stand\n fast, now. I'm going to pick you up.\"\n\n\n The scouter settled on the outcrop beside Farrell, so close that the hot\n wash of its exhaust gases scorched his bare legs. Gibson put out thick\n brown arms and hauled him inside like a straw man, ignoring the native.\n The scouter darted for shore with Farrell lying across Gibson's knees in\n the cockpit, his head hanging half overside.\n\n\n Farrell had a last dizzy glimpse of the islet against the rush of green\n water below, and felt his shaky laugh of relief stick in his throat. Two\n of the octopods were swimming strongly for shore, holding the rigid\n Arzian native carefully above water between them.\n\n\n \"Gib,\" Farrell croaked. \"Gib, can you risk a look back? I think I've\n gone mad.\"\n\n\n The scouter swerved briefly as Gibson looked back. \"You're all right,\n Arthur. Just hang on tight. I'll explain everything when we get you safe\n in the\nMarco\n.\"\n\n\n Farrell forced himself to relax, more relieved than alarmed by the\n painful pricking of returning sensation. \"I might have known it, damn\n you,\" he said. \"You found your lost city, didn't you?\"\n\n\n Gibson sounded a little disgusted, as if he were still angry with\n himself over some private stupidity. \"I'd have found it sooner if I'd\n had any brains. It was under water, of course.\"\nIn the\nMarco Four\n, Gibson routed Stryker out of his cubicle and mixed\n drinks around, leaving Farrell comfortably relaxed in the padded control\n chair. The paralysis was still wearing off slowly, easing Farrell's fear\n of being permanently disabled.\n\n\n \"We never saw the city from the scouter because we didn't go high\n enough,\" Gibson said. \"I realized that finally, remembering how they\n used high-altitude blimps during the First Wars to spot submarines, and\n when I took the scouter up far enough there it was, at the ocean\n bottom—a city to compare with anything men ever built.\"\n\n\n Stryker stared. \"A marine city? What use would sea-creatures have for\n buildings?\"\n\n\n \"None,\" Gibson said. \"I think the city must have been built ages ago—by\n men or by a manlike race, judging from the architecture—and was\n submerged later by a sinking of land masses that killed off the original\n builders and left Arz nothing but an oversized archipelago. The squids\n took over then, and from all appearances they've developed a culture of\n their own.\"\n\n\n \"I don't see it,\" Stryker complained, shaking his head. \"The pink\n fishers—\"\n\n\n \"Are cattle, or less,\" Gibson finished. \"The octopods are the dominant\n race, and they're so far above Fifth Order that we're completely out of\n bounds here. Under Terran Regulations we can't colonize Arz. It would be\n armed invasion.\"\n\n\n \"Invasion of a squid world?\" Farrell protested, baffled. \"Why should\n surface colonization conflict with an undersea culture, Gib? Why\n couldn't we share the planet?\"\n\n\n \"Because the octopods own the islands too, and keep them policed,\"\n Gibson said patiently. \"They even own the pink fishers. It was one of\n the squid-people, making a dry-land canvass of his preserve here to pick\n a couple of victims for this morning's show, that carried you off last\n night.\"\n\n\n \"Behold a familiar pattern shaping up,\" Stryker said. He laughed\n suddenly, a great irrepressible bellow of sound. \"Arz is a squid's\n world, Arthur, don't you see? And like most civilized peoples, they're\n sportsmen. The flying-lizards are the game they hunt, and they raise the\n pink fishers for—\"\n\n\n Farrell swore in astonishment. \"Then those poor devils are put out there\n deliberately, like worms on a hook—angling in reverse! No wonder I\n couldn't spot their motivation!\"\n\n\n Gibson got up and sealed the port, shutting out the soft morning breeze.\n \"Colonization being out of the question, we may as well move on before\n the octopods get curious enough about us to make trouble. Do you feel up\n to the acceleration, Arthur?\"\n\n\n Farrell and Stryker looked at each other, grinning. Farrell said: \"You\n don't think I want to stick here and be used for bait again, do you?\"\n\n\n He and Stryker were still grinning over it when Gibson, unamused,\n blasted the\nMarco Four\nfree of Arz.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Of the following options, which best summarizes this story?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_1", "options": ["Men study a planet to see where they should colonize and learn the natural resources potential of the planet.", "Men study the interspecies interactions on a planet to learn whether they're allowed to colonize the planet.", "Men study the interspecies interactions on a planet to make sense of them to learn whether the planet is safe to inhabit.", "Men study a planet to see where they should colonize and learn more about the strange customs of the fishermen."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, which traits best describe Arthur Farrell?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_2", "options": ["witty and considerate", "smart and reckless", "stubborn and talkative", "calculated and cautious"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, which technology is not used in the story?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_3", "options": ["Radio-like communication", "A chemical that prevents a person from moving", "Ships that can submerge to examine deep waters", "Tablets used to enhance rest"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Did the characters accomplish their goal?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_4", "options": ["No. The characters had many questions, some of which were resolved, but a few important ones were left unanswered.", "No. The characters learned something they didn't want to know and it caused them to want to defy orders.", "Yes. They learned what they wanted to learn and made good choices based on what they learned.", "Yes. Not only did they learn what they needed to, but they had fun interactions with the species on the planet which improved their understanding."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the narrative purpose of having Arthur try to explore Arz while Stryker slept?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_5", "options": ["It was to increase the reader's curiosity because Arthur didn't know what the inside of the island looked like.", "It was to help the reader learn answers to the questions they had.", "It was to allow Arthur to communicate with the fishermen and learn more about their customs.", "It was to build suspense because Arthur was put in harm's way."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Based on the reading, of the three main characters who should you want to go on an expedition with the least, and why?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_6", "options": ["Gibson. He's so independent that he's not one for teamwork and it teamwork makes adventures more fun.", "Farrell. He's a useful crew member, but he doesn't think things through to a dangerous degree.", "Stryker. He's the captain and he knows a lot, but he's fairly rude to his subordinates. ", "Gibson. He's a know it all; though he may be right often, it's a frustrating personality trait to deal with."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "If you were to be one of the three types of creatures on the island, who would you most likely want to be?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_7", "options": ["The squids.", "None of them; the passage shows that all of them have bad lives.", "The fishermen.", "The winged lizards."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who would most likely enjoy this story, of the following options?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_8", "options": ["A science fiction fan who really likes descriptions of space travel.", "A mystery fan who likes to read things with surprise reveals.", "A science fiction fan who really likes interspecies communication.", "A fantasy fan because winged lizards are a major element of Arz."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, what is a potential moral of this story?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_9", "options": ["Exploration of the unknown can lead to many surprises.", "Discovery is fun and can be done without inherently endangering one's wellbeing.", "Communication with other species and cultures is a delicate process that needs to be done with care.", "Learning is a process that takes time and can be best done independently."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the narrative purpose of having Stryker take the sleeping pill?", "question_unique_id": "32665_VRYQXG3Y_10", "options": ["Farrell regularly wakes him by walking around on the ship, and Stryker wanted a good night of sleep.", "Farrell would've tried to ask him questions about the fishermen in the morning had Stryker been awake.", "Taking the pill prevented Stryker from helping Farrell.", "Taking the pill prevented Stryker from helping Marco."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/2/6/6/32665//32665-h//32665-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "55815", "set_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Peggy Plays Off-Broadway", "year": 1965, "author": "Hughes, Virginia", "topic": "Professions -- Juvenile fiction; Women dramatists -- Juvenile fiction; Women in the theater -- United States -- Juvenile fiction; PZ; Actresses -- Juvenile fiction; Mystery and detective stories; Lane, Peggy (Fictitious character) -- Juvenile fiction; Actresses -- United States -- Juvenile fiction; Acting -- Juvenile fiction", "article": "PEGGY PLAYS OFF-BROADWAY\nI\n\n Cast Call\n“First casting calls are so difficult,” Peggy Lane\n said, looking ruefully at the fifty or more actresses\n and actors who milled about nervously, chatting with\n one another, or sat on the few folding chairs trying\n to read.\n\n\n “With only nine roles to be filled,” she continued,\n “it doesn’t matter how good these people are; most\n of them just haven’t got a chance. I can’t help feeling\n sorry for them—for all of us, I mean. After all, I’m\n trying for a part, too.”\n\n\n Peggy’s friend and housemate, Amy Preston,\n smiled in agreement and said, “It’s not an easy business,\n honey, is it? But the ones I feel sorriest for\n right now are Mal and Randy. After all, they have\n the unpleasant job of choosing and refusing, and a\n lot of these folks are their friends. I wouldn’t want\n to be in their shoes.”\n\n2\n\n Peggy nodded thoughtfully, and reflected that it\n must, indeed, be more wearing on the boys. Mallory\n Seton, director of the new play, had been an upper-class\n student at the Academy when Peggy had\n started there, and he was a good friend of hers. She\n had worked with him before, as a general assistant,\n when they had discovered a theater. It would not be\n easy for him to consider Peggy for an acting role, and\n to do so completely without bias. It would not be a\n question of playing favorites, Peggy knew, but quite\n the reverse. Mal’s sense of fair play would make him\n bend over backward to keep from giving favors to\n his friends. If she was to get a role in this new production,\n she would really have to work for it.\n\n\n And if it was difficult for Mal, she thought, it was\n more so for Randy Brewster, the author of the play,\n for her friendship with him was of a different sort\n than with Mal. Mal was just a friend—a good one,\n to be sure—but with Randy Brewster, somehow,\n things were different. There was nothing “serious,”\n she assured herself, but they had gone on dates together\n with a regularity that was a little more than\n casual and, whatever his feelings were for her, she\n was sure that they were more complicated than\n Mal’s.\n\n\n “Do you think they’ll ever get through all these\n people?” Amy asked, interrupting her thoughts.\n “How can they hope to hear so many actors read for\n them in just one afternoon?”\n\n\n “Oh, they won’t be doing readings today,” Peggy\n replied, glad to turn her attention from what was becoming\n a difficult subject for thought. “This is just a\n first cast call. All they want to do today is pick people\n for type. They’ll select all the possible ones, send\n the impossible ones away, and then go into elimination\n readings later.”\n\n3\n\n “But what if the people they pick for looks can’t\n act?” Amy asked. “And what if some of the rejects\n are wonderful actors?”\n\n\n “They won’t go back to the rejects,” Peggy explained,\n “because they both have a pretty good idea\n of what the characters in the play should look like.\n And if the people they pick aren’t good enough actors,\n then they hold another cast call and try again.\n Mal says that sometimes certain parts are so hard to\n cast that they have to go through a dozen calls just\n to find one actor.”\n\n\n “It seems kind of unfair, doesn’t it, to be eliminated\n just because you’re not the right physical\n type,” Amy said, “but I can understand it. They have\n to start somewhere, and I guess that’s as good a place\n as any.” Then she smiled and added, “I guess I’m\n just feeling sorry for myself, because Mal told me\n there was no sense in my trying out at all, because I\n didn’t look or sound right for any part in the play. If\n I don’t get rid of this Southern accent of mine, I\n may never get a part at all, except in a Tennessee\n Williams play!”\n\n\n Peggy nodded sympathetically. “But it wasn’t just\n your accent, Amy,” she said. “It’s your looks, too. At\n least for this play. Mal and Randy told you that\n you’re just too pretty for any of the parts that fit\n your age, and that’s nothing to feel bad about. If\n anybody ought to feel insulted, it’s me, because\n they asked me to try out!”\n\n4\n\n “Oh, they were just sweet-talking me,” Amy replied.\n “And as for you, you know you don’t have to\n worry about your looks. You have a wonderful face!\n You can look beautiful, or comic, or pathetic, or\n cute or anything. I’m stuck with just being a South’n\n Belle, blond and helpless, po’ li’l ol’ me, lookin’ sad\n and sweet through those ol’ magnolia blossoms!”\n She broadened her slight, soft accent until it sounded\n like something you could spread on hot cornbread,\n and both girls broke into laughter that sounded odd\n in the strained atmosphere of the bare rehearsal\n studio.\n\n\n It was at this point that Mal and Randy came in,\n with pleasant, if somewhat brisk, nods to the assembled\n actors and actresses, and a special smile for\n Amy and Peggy. In a businesslike manner, they settled\n themselves at a table near the windows, spread\n out scripts and pads and pencils, and prepared for\n the chore that faced them. Amy, who was there to\n help the boys by acting as secretary for the occasion,\n wished Peggy good luck, and joined the boys at the\n table. Her job was to take names and addresses, and\n to jot down any facts about each actor that Randy\n and Mal wanted to be sure to remember.\n\n\n Mal started the proceedings by introducing himself\n and Randy. Then, estimating the crowd, he said,\n “Since there are fewer men here, and also fewer male\n roles to cast, we’re going to do them first. I hope that\n you ladies won’t mind. We won’t keep you waiting\n long, but if we worked with you first, we’d have these\n gentlemen waiting most of the day. Shall we get\n started?” After a brief glance at his notes, he called\n out, “First, I’d like to see businessman types, young\n forties. How many have we?”\n\n5\n\n Four men separated themselves from the crowd\n and approached the table. Peggy watched with interest\n as Mal and Randy looked them over, murmured\n to Amy to take notes, and asked questions.\n After a few minutes, the men left, two of them looking\n happy, two resigned. Then Mal stood and called\n for leading man types, late twenties or early thirties,\n tall and athletic. As six tall, athletic, handsome\n young men came forward, Peggy felt that she just\n couldn’t stand watching the casting interviews any\n longer. It reminded her too much of the livestock\n shows she had attended as a youngster in her home\n town of Rockport, Wisconsin. Necessary though it\n was, she felt it was hardly a way to have to deal\n with human beings.\n\n\n Slipping back through the crowd of waiting actors,\n she joined the actresses in the rear of the room, and\n found an empty seat next to a young girl.\n\n\n “Hi,” she said. “What’s the matter, can’t you watch\n it either?”\n\n\n The girl smiled in understanding. “It always upsets\n me,” she replied, “but it’s something we simply\n have to learn to live with. At least until we get well-known,\n or get agents to do this sort of thing for us.”\n\n\n “It sounds as if you’ve been in a few of these before,”\n Peggy said.\n\n\n “I have. But not here in the East,” the girl replied.\n “I’m from California, and I’ve been in a few little-theater\n things there, but nobody seems to pay much\n attention to them. I heard that off-Broadway theater\n in New York attracts a lot of critics, and I thought\n that I’d do better here. Have you had any luck?”\n\n\n “Oh, I’m just beginning,” Peggy said. “I’m still\n studying at the New York Dramatic Academy. I hope\n I can get some kind of supporting role in this play,\n but I don’t think I’m ready for anything big yet. By\n the way, my name is Peggy Lane. What’s yours?”\n\n6\n\n “I’m Paula Andrews,” the girl answered, “and\n maybe I’m shooting too high, but I’m trying out for\n the female lead. I hope I have a chance for it.”\n\n\n Peggy looked carefully at her new friend, at the\n somewhat uncertain smile that played about her\n well-formed, generous mouth and the intelligence\n that shone from her large, widely placed green eyes.\n Her rather long face was saved from severity by a\n soft halo of red-brown hair, the whole effect being an\n appealing combination of strength and feminine softness.\n\n\n “I think you do have a chance,” Peggy said. “In\n fact, if you can act, I bet you’ll get the part. I’ve read\n the play, and I know the author and director, and\n unless I’m way off, you look just the way the lead\n should look. In fact, it’s almost uncanny. You look as\n if you just walked out of the script!”\n\n\n “Oh, I hope you’re right!” Paula said with animation.\n “And I hope you get a part, too. I have a feeling\n that you’re going to bring me good luck!”\n\n\n “The one who needs luck is me, I’m afraid,” Peggy\n said. “Being friendly with Randy and Mal isn’t going\n to help me in the least, and I’m going to have to be\n awfully good to get the part. And it’s really important\n to me, too, because I’m getting near the end of\n my trial year.”\n\n\n “Trial year?” Paula asked curiously.\n\n7\n\n “Uh-huh. My parents agreed to let me come to\n New York to study acting and try for parts for a year,\n and I agreed that if I didn’t show signs of success\n before the year was up, I’d come home and go back\n to college. I’ve been here for eight months now, and\n I haven’t got anything to show my parents yet. The\n part I’m trying for now isn’t a big one, but it’s a good\n supporting role, and what’s more, we get paid. If I\n can show my mother and father that I can earn some\n money by acting, I’m sure that they’ll let me go on\n trying.”\n\n\n “But do you expect to make enough to live on right\n away?” Paula asked.\n\n\n “Oh, no! I’m not that naïve! But when my year is\n over at the Academy, I can always take a job as a\n typist or a secretary somewhere, while I look for\n parts. If you can type and take shorthand, you never\n have to worry about making a living.”\n\n\n “I wish that I could do those things,” Paula said\n wistfully. “The only way I’ve been able to make ends\n meet is by working in department stores as a salesgirl,\n and that doesn’t pay much. Besides, the work is\n so unsteady.”\n\n\n “My parents are very practical people,” Peggy said\n with a smile, “and they made sure that I learned\n routine office skills before they would let me think\n about other and more glamorous kinds of careers.\n Daddy owns the newspaper in our small town in\n Wisconsin, and I’ve worked with him as a typist and\n a reporter of sorts and as a proofreader, too. I’ll always\n be grateful that he made me learn all those\n things. I don’t think he has much faith in the acting\n business, but he’s been wonderful about giving me a\n chance. What do your parents think of your wanting\n to be an actress?”\n\n\n Instead of answering, Paula suddenly stood up.\n “Let’s go see how they’re coming with the actors,” she\n said. “I think they’re almost finished.”\n\n8\n\n Not wanting to press Paula further, and feeling\n that perhaps she had asked too personal a question\n on such short acquaintance, Peggy reluctantly stood\n too, and joined Paula to watch the last of what she\n now could only think of as the livestock show.\n\n\n As she drew closer to the table, she heard Mal saying,\n “I’m really sorry, Mr. Lang, but you’re just not\n the right type for the role. Perhaps some other....”\n and his voice trailed off in embarrassment.\n\n\n Lang, a short, thin, unhappy young man, answered\n almost tearfully, “But, Mr. Seton, looks aren’t everything.\n I’m really a funny comedian. Honestly! If you\n would only give me a chance to read for you, I know\n that I could make you change your mind about the\n way this character should look!”\n\n\n “I don’t doubt that you could,” Mal said gently,\n “but if you did, the play would suffer. I’m afraid the\n comedian we need for this must be a large, rather\n bluff-looking person, like these three gentlemen\n whom I have chosen to hear. The part calls for it.\n I’m sorry.”\n\n\n Mr. Lang nodded sadly, mumbled, “I understand,”\n and walked off, his head hanging and his\n hands thrust deep in his pockets, looking less like a\n comedian than any man in the world. Peggy\n watched him go, not knowing whether to feel sorrier\n for him or for Mal.\n\n\n “All right, gentlemen,” Mal called out. “That takes\n care of the male roles. All of you who are left will be\n given copies of the play to study, marked at the passages\n I want to hear. Be sure to read the whole play\n carefully, so that you understand the workings of the\n characters you have been selected to read. You have\n three days to look it over. We’ll meet at ten o’clock\n on Saturday morning at the Penthouse Theater to\n hear you. Thank you. And now for the ladies.”\n\n9\n\n The men left, after being given their scripts, and\n though they chatted amiably with one another,\n Peggy was sure that each was casting rather hostile\n looks toward others who were trying for the same\n parts. Keeping friendships in the theater was not an\n easy thing, she thought, particularly for people of\n similar physical types!\n\n\n Mal’s first concern in reviewing the actresses was,\n of course, for the leading role. And, of course, it was\n for this role that he had the most applicants. More\n than twenty girls came forward when the announcement\n was made, and Peggy thought that she had\n never seen so many striking and beautiful faces and\n figures. It was not going to be easy for Mal to make a\n choice. As Paula, her new friend, went forward to\n join the others, Peggy whispered a word of encouragement,\n then stood to one side to watch.\n\n\n Mal went down the line, regretfully dismissing one\n after the other of the girls, and occasionally asking\n one to step aside to try for another role. His tough-looking\n expression hardly varied as he spoke to each\n one, but Peggy thought she saw the ghost of a smile\n cross his face when he spoke to Paula Andrews. Another\n review of the remaining girls eliminated a few\n more. Finally, there were only four left, Paula\n among them. Mal thanked them, distributed scripts,\n and asked them to be at the Penthouse Theater on\n Saturday at noon.\n\n\n Paula returned to Peggy with eyes shining. “Oh,\n Peggy! I think you were right! I just know I’m going\n to get the part! I know it!”\n\n10\n\n “Don’t count too much on it,” Peggy cautioned,\n “or you may be too bitterly disappointed if you don’t\n get it. But,” she added, enthusiastically violating her\n own rule of caution, “I’m sure, too! I’ll see you Saturday.\n Even if I don’t get a script, I’ll be there just to\n hear you read!”\n\n\n Then, with a smile of farewell, Peggy turned her\n attention to the “career woman, early thirties” classification\n that Mal had called for next. Once that\n was out of the way, she knew it would be her turn.\n\n\n This time, there were not so many applicants and\n Peggy remembered Randy telling her that this\n would be one of their most difficult roles to cast.\n Only four actresses came forward, and Mal, with\n difficulty, reviewed them all. Unable to eliminate by\n type, he gave them all scripts and asked them to\n come to the theater. Then he called for “character\n ingénues” and Peggy joined seven other girls in the\n “livestock show.”\n\n\n Mal reviewed them carefully, managing to look at\n Peggy with complete lack of recognition. He gently\n eliminated three of them on the basis of hair coloring,\n height or general type. Another, curiously\n enough, was eliminated, like Amy, for a Southern accent,\n and a fifth, also like Amy, was too beautiful.\n “The part calls for a pretty girl,” Mal said with a rare\n smile, “but not for a girl so pretty that she’ll dominate\n the stage! It was a pleasure to look at you, but I’m\n afraid you’re not quite right for the part.”\n\n\n When he was done, Peggy and two others were\n given scripts and told to come to the theater on Saturday.\n Feeling lightheaded and giddy, Peggy settled\n herself on one of the folding chairs that lined\n the back wall, and waited for Mal, Randy, and Amy\n to finish so she could join them for coffee.\n\n11\n\n Scarcely noticing the rest of the proceedings, she\n thought only about the coming readings. She was\n so familiar with the play that she knew she had an\n advantage, perhaps unfairly, over the other two girls.\n She had watched the script grow from its first rough\n draft to the finished text now in her hands, and had\n discussed it with Randy through each revision. She\n knew she could play the part; in fact, she suspected\n secretly that Randy had written it for her, and the\n thought made her blush. Still, it would not be easy,\n she knew. Mal’s sense of fairness and his absolute\n devotion to the play above everything else would\n keep him from making up his mind in advance.\n\n\n But despite this knowledge, she could not help\n looking ahead—all the way ahead—to the restless\n stir of the opening-night audience out front, the last-minute\n preparations backstage, the bright, hot lights\n and the smell of make-up and scenery paint as she\n waited to go on in Act One, Scene One of\nCome\n Closer\n, Randy Brewster’s brilliant new play in which\n Peggy Lane would be discovered!\n\n12\nII\n\n The Hopefuls\nThe audience consisted of a handful of actors and\n actresses, and Randy Brewster and Mallory Seton.\n The stage lighting was a cold splash produced by two\n floodlights without color gels to soften them. The\n scenery was the brick back wall of the stage, two\n ladders, a table and two straight-backed chairs. Only\n the front row of house lights was on, and the back of\n the theater was dark, empty and gloomy, a shadowy\n wasteland of empty rows of seats like tombstones.\n\n\n On the stage, a “businessman type” was reading\n his lines. Peggy knew, after the first few words, that\n he would not do. He had somehow completely\n missed the character of the man he was portraying,\n and was heavily overplaying. Mal, being perhaps\n more patient than Peggy, listened and watched\n with great care. Amy, who was acting as Mal’s assistant\n for the production, sat in a chair by the proscenium,\n reading her script by the light of a small\n lamp and feeding the actor cue lines. Mal followed\n the whole sequence with no visible sign of impatience\n and, when the actor was through, said,\n “Thank you. We’ll let you know our decision in a day\n or two.”\n\n13\n\n The next “businessman type” was better, but still\n not quite on target, Peggy thought. He seemed to be\n playing the part for laughs, and although there were\n some comic values to be extracted from the role, it\n was really far more a straight dramatic character.\n Still, he was clearly a better actor than the first,\n and with direction might do well.\n\n\n Following his reading, Mal again repeated his\n polite, invariable formula, “Thank you. We’ll let you\n know our decision in a day or two,” and called for\n the next reading.\n\n\n Peggy watched the remaining actors try for the\n role, and made mental notes of which ones were possible,\n which probable, and which stood no chance at\n all.\n\n\n The same process was then followed for the leading\n men, and the same wide range of talent and understanding\n of the part was displayed. Some seemed\n to have no idea at all about the play or its meaning,\n and Peggy was sure that these men had read only\n the parts marked for them. Others had a clear understanding\n of the kind of character they were playing,\n and tried to create him in the brief time they had on\n stage. Others still were actors who had one rather\n inflexible way of playing, and used it for all kinds of\n parts. Their performances were uniform imitations of\n each other, and all were imitations of the early acting\n style of Marlon Brando. They seemed to forget,\n Peggy thought, that Brando’s style developed\n from the roles he had to play, and that as he got\n other roles, he showed other facets of a rounded talent.\n It made her angry that some actors thought\n they could get ahead in a creative field by being\n imitative.\n\n14\n\n Each actor, no matter how good or how bad, was\n treated with impersonal courtesy by Mal, and each\n left looking sure that the part was his. Peggy was\n glad that she would not have to see their faces when\n they learned that they had not been selected.\n\n\n “The pity of it,” she whispered to Randy, “isn’t\n that there are so many bad ones, but that there are\n so many good ones, and that only one can be selected\n for each role. I wish there were some way of telling\n the good ones you can’t take that they were really\n good, but that you just couldn’t take everyone!”\n\n\n “You can’t let yourself worry about that,” Randy\n replied. “The good ones know they’re good, and\n they’re not going to be discouraged by the loss of a\n role. And the bad ones think they’re good, too, and\n most of them have tremendous egos to protect\n them from ever finding out—or even thinking—otherwise!”\n\n\n The door at the back of the theater opened quietly,\n and Peggy, turning around in her seat, saw a few of\n the actresses entering. They quietly found seats in\n the rear and settled down to await their turn.\n\n\n “I think I’ll go back there with the girls,” Peggy\n whispered. “I’m looking for a girl I met at the casting\n call, and I’d like to chat with her for a few minutes\n when she comes. Do you mind if I don’t look at all\n this?”\n\n\n Randy grinned. “Go ahead. I’d get out of here,\n too, if I could without getting Mal mad at me. This\n kind of thing always breaks my heart, too!”\n\n15\n\n As she went up the aisle as unobtrusively as possible,\n Peggy glanced at the actresses who had just\n come in. She recognized a few of their faces from\n the casting call of three days ago, but did not see her\n new friend among them. She decided to go out to the\n lobby to wait for her there. A new group of girls\n entered the theater as Peggy was leaving and, as she\n passed, one reached out and grabbed her arm.\n\n\n Peggy turned in surprise to find herself greeted\n with a broad grin and a quick companionable kiss.\n\n\n “Greta!” she cried. “What are you doing here?”\n\n\n “Come on out to the lobby, and I’ll tell you,” Greta\n Larsen said, with a toss of her head that made her\n thick blond braid spin around and settle over her\n shoulder.\n\n\n “But I thought you were in New Haven, getting\n ready to open\nOver the Hill\n,” Peggy said, when they\n had reached the lobby. “What on earth are you doing\n here?”\n\n\n “I’m afraid you don’t read your\nVariety\nvery carefully,”\n Greta said. “\nOver the Hill\nopened in New\n Haven to such bad notices that the producer decided\n to close out of town. At first we thought he’d\n call in a play doctor to try to fix things up, but he\n finally decided, and very sensibly, that it would be\n easier to just throw the whole thing out. I’m afraid\n he lost a lot of money, and he didn’t have any more\n left.”\n\n\n “Oh, I’m so sorry,” Peggy said. “And it was a real\n chance for you, wasn’t it?”\n\n16\n\n “Not really,” Greta said. “The part wasn’t too\n good, and I’d just as soon not be in a disaster. Anyway,\n it gave me a chance to work for a few weeks,\n and an agent saw me and said he thought I was\n good, so maybe I’m not any the worse for the experience.”\n\n\n At that moment, Peggy saw Paula Andrews enter\n the lobby, and she motioned to her to join them.\n “Greta, this is Paula Andrews. She’s reading for the\n lead today, and I hope she gets it. Paula, I want you\n to meet Greta Larsen, one of my housemates.”\n\n\n “Housemates?” Paula questioned, a little puzzled.\n\n\n “Yes. There are about a dozen of us, more or less.\n We live in a place called the Gramercy Arms—a\n wonderful place—and we live like one big noisy family.\n The Arms is run just for young actresses, so we\n all have a lot in common. I haven’t seen Greta for\n weeks—she’s been out of town with a play—and I’m\n just getting over being stunned at seeing her now.”\n\n\n “Peggy tactfully neglected to mention that the\n play flopped,” Greta laughed, “and now I’m back in\n town without a job. In fact, that’s why I’m here.”\n\n\n “You mean you’re going to read for Mal?” Peggy\n asked excitedly.\n\n\n “Uh-huh. I met him on the street an hour or so\n ago, and he told me he had a part he thought I should\n try out for, and that he was thinking of me for it all\n along, but assumed that I wouldn’t be available.\n Well, you can’t be more available than I am, so here\n I am!”\n\n\n “Have you read the play?” Paula asked.\n\n\n “I’m lucky there,” Greta replied. “I’ve seen it\n in three different drafts since it started. Peggy’s\n friendly with Randy Brewster, the boy who wrote it,\n and each time she brought a draft home, I got to\n read it. So I’m not at a disadvantage.”\n\n17\n\n “What do you think of\nCome Closer\n, Paula?” asked\n Peggy.\n\n\n “I think it’s wonderful! I hope more than ever that\n I get the part! Do you really think I have a chance?”\n\n\n Greta nodded decisively. “If you can act, you’re\n made for it,” she said.\n\n\n “That’s just what Peggy said!”\n\n\n Peggy stole a glance through the doors to the theater.\n “I think we’re about ready to find out whether or\n not you can act,” she said. “They seem to be about\n through with the actors, and that means you’re on\n next!”\n\n\n Wishing each other good luck, they entered the\n darkened part of the house and prepared for what\n Peggy could only think of as their ordeal.\nAfterward, as Peggy, Amy, Paula, and Greta sat at\n a table in a nearby coffeehouse waiting for Mal and\n Randy to join them, each was sure that she had been\n terrible.\n\n\n “Oh, no!” Peggy said. “You two were just marvelous!\n But I couldn’t have been worse. I know I read\n the part wrong. I thought I had the character clear in\n my mind, but I’m sure that the way it came out was a\n mile off!”\n\n\n “You have a lot more talent than judgment,” Greta\n said mournfully. “You were perfect. And so was\n Paula. As for me....” Her voice trailed off in despair.\n\n\n “I don’t know how you can say that, Greta,” Paula\n put in. “I know you were the best in your part, and\n nobody even came close to Peggy. But I’ve never\n felt so off in my life as I did reading that part. It’s a\n wonder any of you even want to be seen with me!”\n\n18\n\n Only when Amy started to laugh did the three\n others realize how much alike they had sounded.\n Then they joined in the laughter and couldn’t seem\n to stop. When they seemed at the point of dissolving\n helplessly into a permanent attack of the giggles,\n Randy and Mal joined them.\n\n\n “If you’re laughing at the play,” Randy said\n gloomily, “I can hardly blame you. You never know\n just how badly you’ve written until someone gets up\n and starts to read your lines.”\n\n\n All at the same time, the girls started to reassure\n him and tell him how good the play was, and how\n badly the actors, including themselves, had handled\n the lines, but this was so much like their last exchange\n of conversation that once more they broke up\n in helpless laughter.\n\n\n When they got their breath back, and when coffee\n and pastry had been ordered, they tried to explain\n the cause of their hilarity to the boys.\n\n\n “... so, you see,” Peggy concluded, “we were\n each explaining how good the others were and how\n bad we were, and when Randy started telling us how\n bad he had been as a writer, we just couldn’t stand\n it!”\n\n\n It was Mal who got them back to sane ground.\n With his tough face, like a movie gangster’s or private\n detective’s, and his gentle, cultured English voice and\n assured manner, he calmly gave his opinion of the\n afternoon’s auditions.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How were physical features of the actors and actresses treated in this story?", "question_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I_1", "options": ["People were being kind, especially because there was a bit of flexibility in what the characters in the play could look like.", "People were only being supportive with each other (though not to a sugar-coating extent).", "People were being kind, but the looks of the characters had to be a certain way, so people were generally honest about looks.", "People were complimenting their friends and criticizing others."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was it easy for the main female characters to be supportive of each other?", "question_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I_2", "options": ["They all know they're unlikely to be cast because Randy and Mal are trying hard to not play favorites.", "They all know there will be other opportunities in the future they're likely to secure if they miss out this time around.", "None of them are auditioning for the same role, which is usually a major source of competition.", "They've all been friends for a long time."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "If Peggy does secure this role, what would likely happen?", "question_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I_3", "options": ["She would visit home in four months.", "She'd probably be happy for a short bit, but then stressed that it wouldn't be enough to prove herself to her parents.", "She wouldn't go home in four months.", "She would feel like she'd completely earned it without any favoritism."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "If Peggy doesn't secure this role, what would likely happen?", "question_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I_4", "options": ["She'd find another role quickly because she has good connections and networking skills.", "She'd try to secure a role within four months.", "A new role wouldn't be guaranteed, but she'd convince Randy to write her into a future play.", "She'd get the approval from her parents to stay for an extra year; they want the best for her and believe in her skills."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would you say is true when describing the group of the main female characters in this story?", "question_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I_5", "options": ["They're all competitive, caring, and beautiful", "They're all insecure, anxious, and stressed", "They're all tough, jaded, and beautiful", "They're all kind, non-competitive, and pretty"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the narrative purpose of having Amy not audition for a role?", "question_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I_6", "options": ["It helped illustrate that she and Peggy are close with Randy and Mal, because she helped them during auditions.", "It helped illustrate that she doesn't want to compete with Peggy, because if she'd auditioned they'd go for the same role.", "It helped illustrate that she doesn't want to compete with Paula, because if she'd auditioned they'd go for the same role.", "It helped illustrate that she wants the play to succeed and that she thinks she needs to help with auditions in order for that to happen."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who would most likely enjoy this excerpt?", "question_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I_7", "options": ["A grandmother who wants to relate with her granddaughter who's entering the theater industry", "Someone who likes theater and enjoys thinking about the audition process and seeing it play out", "A male actor trying to see what the audition process feels like to actresses during their auditions", "A young child who dreams to be an actress and primarily wants to hear success stories"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, which best summarizes this story?", "question_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I_8", "options": ["A woman auditions for her friend's play and gains perspective for what her future as an actress might be like.", "A woman auditions for her friend's play and makes friends and connections in the process.", "A woman auditions for her friend's play and wants to prove to her friend that he should write a role for her in the future.", "A woman auditions for her friend's play and has a lot of fun seeing the audition process."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following was not an element of the audition process?", "question_unique_id": "55815_4DJBZQ7I_9", "options": ["People had to improvise in-character to show that they understood their mannerisms and how they'd act in certain situations", "People had to read for the role they chose if their physical appearance matched well with the character", "People had to initially select the specific role they were auditioning for", "People had to read through the entire script within a few days"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/5/8/1/55815//55815-h//55815-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63812", "set_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Grandma Perkins and the Space Pirates", "year": 1965, "author": "McConnell, James V.", "topic": "Older women -- Fiction; PS; Space ships -- Fiction; Pirates -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "GRANDMA PERKINS AND THE SPACE PIRATES\nBy JAMES McCONNELL\nRaven-haired, seductive Darling Toujours'\n \nsmoke-and-flame eyes kindled sparks in hearts\n \nall over the universe. But it took sweet old\n \nGrandma Perkins, of the pirate ship\nDirty\n\n Shame,\nto set the Jupiter moons on fire\n.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories March 1954.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"I can always get along with a man if he remembers who he is,\" said\n Darling Toujours, the raven-haired, creamy-skinned televideo actress\n whose smoke-and-flame eyes lit fires in hearts all over the solar\n system. She was credited with being the most beautiful woman alive and\n there were few who dared to contradict her when she mentioned it.\n\n\n \"And I can always get along with a woman if she remembers who\nI\nam,\"\n replied Carlton E. Carlton, the acid-tongued author whose biting novels\n had won him universal fame. He leaned his thin, bony body back into the\n comfort of an overstuffed chair and favored the actress with a wicked\n smile.\n\n\n The two of them were sitting in the finest lounge of the luxury space\n ship\nKismet\n, enjoying postprandial cocktails with Captain Homer\n Fogarty, the\nKismet's\nrotund commanding officer. The\nKismet\nwas\n blasting through space at close to the speed of light, bound from\n Callisto, one of Jupiter's moons, back to Earth. But none of the two\n hundred Earthbound passengers were conscious of the speed at all.\n\n\n Darling Toujours waved a long cigarette holder at the author. \"Don't\n pay any attention to him, Captain. You know how writers are—always\n putting words in other people's mouths, and not very good ones at that.\"\n\n\n \"Do you mean not very good words or not very good mouths, my dear?\"\n Carlton asked. The solar system's most famous actress clamped her\n scarlet lips shut with rage. It would take someone like Carlton E.\n Carlton, she knew, to point out the one minor blemish in an otherwise\n perfect body—her slightly over-sized mouth.\n\n\n She began to wish that she had never left Callisto, that she had\n cancelled her passage on the\nKismet\nwhen she learned that Carlton\n was to be a fellow passenger. But her studio had wired her to return\n to Earth immediately to make a new series of three dimensional video\n films. And the\nKismet\nwas the only first class space ship flying to\n Earth for two weeks. So she had kept her ticket in spite of Carlton.\n\n\n \"I must say that I think Miss Toujours has the prettiest mouth I've\n ever seen,\" boomed Captain Fogarty, his voice sounding something like\n a cross between a foghorn and a steam whistle. And he was not merely\n being gallant, for many a lonely night as he flew the darkness between\n Earth and the many planets, he had dreamed of caressing those lips.\n\n\n \"And I think you are definitely a man of discriminating taste,\" said\n Darling demurely, crossing her legs and arranging her dress to expose a\n little more of the Toujours charms to the Captain's eye.\n\n\n Carlton smiled casually at the exposed flesh. \"It's all very pretty,\n my dear,\" he said smugly. \"But we've seen it all before and in space\n you're supposed to act like a lady, if you can act that well.\"\n\n\n Darling Toujours drew back her hand to smack Carlton one in a very\n unlady-like manner when she suddenly realized that they were not alone.\n Her hand froze, poised elegantly in mid-air, as she turned to see a\n newcomer standing at the door.\nThe witness to the impending slap was a withered little lady, scarcely\n five feet tall, with silvered hair, eyes that twinkled like a March\n wind, and a friendly rash of wrinkles that gave her face the kindly,\n weathered appearance of an old stone idol. Her slight figure was lost\n in volumes of black cloth draped on her in a manner that had gone out\n of style at least fifty years before. The little woman coughed politely.\n\n\n \"I beg your pardon,\" she told them in a sweet, high little voice.\n \"I hope I didn't interrupt anything. If you would like to hit the\n gentleman, Miss Toujours, I'll be glad to come back later.\"\n\n\n Darling Toujours opened her violet eyes wide in surprise. \"Why, I\n was ... I was ... I—\" The actress uttered a small, gulping sound as\n she recovered her poise. \"Why, I was just going to pat him on the cheek\n for being such a nice boy. You are a nice boy, aren't you, Carlton?\"\n She leaned forward to stroke him gently on the face. Carlton roared\n with laughter and the good Captain colored deeply.\n\n\n \"Oh,\" said the little old woman, \"I'm sorry. I didn't know that he was\n your son.\" Carlton choked suddenly and Darling suffered from a brief\n fit of hysteria.\n\n\n The Captain took command. \"Now, look here, Madam,\" he sputtered. \"What\n is it you want?\"\n\n\n \"I really wanted to see you, Captain,\" she told him, her battered old\n shoes bringing her fully into the room with little mincing steps. \"The\n Purser says I have to sign a contract of some kind with you, and I\n wanted to know how to write my name. I'm Mrs. Omar K. Perkins, but you\n see, I'm really Mrs. Matilda Perkins because my Omar died a few years\n ago. But I haven't signed my name very much since then and I'm not at\n all sure of which is legal.\" She put one bird-like little hand to\n her throat and clasped the cameo there almost as if it could give her\n support. She looked so small and so frail that Fogarty forgave her the\n intrusion.\n\n\n \"It really doesn't make much difference how you sign the thing, just so\n long as you sign it,\" he blustered. \"Just a mere formality anyway. You\n just sign it any way you like.\" He paused, hoping that she would leave\n now that she had her information.\n\n\n \"Oh, I'm so glad to hear that,\" she said, but made no move whatsoever\n to leave. Captain Fogarty gave her his hardened stare of the type which\n withered most people where they stood. Mrs. Perkins just smiled sweetly\n at him.\n\n\n His rage getting out of hand, he finally blurted, \"And now, Mrs.\n Perkins, I think you'd better be getting back to your quarters. As you\n know, this is a private lounge for the\nfirst\nclass passengers.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Perkins continued to smile at him. \"Yes, I know. It's lovely,\n isn't it? I'll just go out this way.\" And before anyone could stop her,\n she had moved to the door to Darling Toujours' suite and had opened it,\n stepping inside.\n\n\n \"That's my room, not the door out,\" Darling said loudly.\n\n\n \"So I see,\" said Mrs. Perkins, staring at the opulent furnishings\n with avid pleasure. \"It's such a pretty thing, all done up with\n mother-of-pearl like that, isn't it? And what a pretty lace nightie\n lying on the bed.\" Mrs. Perkins picked up the sheer, gossamer garment\n to examine it. \"You do wear something under it, don't you?\"\n\n\n Darling screeched and darted for the door. She snatched the nightie\n away from Mrs. Perkins and rudely propelled the older woman out the\n door, closing it behind her. \"Captain, this woman must GO!\"\n\n\n \"I was just leaving, Miss Toujours. I hope you and your son have a very\n happy voyage. Good day, Captain Fogarty,\" she called over her shoulder\n as she exited. Carlton E. Carlton's shrill laughter followed her down\n the companionway.\nMrs. Perkins had been lying in her berth reading for less than an hour\n when the knock sounded at her door. She would have preferred to sit up\n and read, but her cabin was so small that there was no room for any\n other furniture besides the bed.\n\n\n \"Come in,\" she called in a small voice.\n\n\n Johnny Weaver, steward for the cheaper cabins, poked his youthful,\n freckled face through the door. \"Howdy, Mrs. Perkins. I wondered if I\n could do anything for you? It's about ten minutes before we eat.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you can pull that big box down from the top shelf there, if you\n don't mind. And, I wonder, would you mind calling me Grandma? All my\n children do it and I miss it so.\" She gave him a wrinkled smile that\n was at once wistful and petulant.\n\n\n Johnny laughed in an easy, infectious manner. \"Sure thing, Grandma.\"\n He stretched his long arms up to bring down the heavy bag and found\n himself wondering just how it had gotten up there in the first place.\n He didn't remember ever putting it there for her and Grandma Perkins\n was obviously too frail a woman to have handled such a heavy box by\n herself. He put it on the floor.\n\n\n As she stooped over and extracted a pair of low-heeled, black and\n battered shoes from the box, she asked him, \"Johnny, what was that\n paper I signed this afternoon?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, that? Why that was just a contract for passage, Grandma. You\n guaranteed to pay them so much for the flight, which you've already\n done, and they guaranteed that you wouldn't be put off against your\n will until you reached your destination.\"\n\n\n \"But why do we have to have a contract?\"\n\n\n Johnny leaned back, relaxing against the door. \"Well, STAR—that's\n Stellar Transportation and Atomic Research, you know—is one of\n the thirteen monopolies in this part of the solar system. The \"Big\n Thirteen,\" we call them. STAR charters every space flight in this neck\n of the woods. Well, back in the old days, when space flights were\n scarce, it used to be that you'd pay for a ticket from Saturn to Earth,\n say, and you'd get to Mars and they'd stop for fuel. Maybe somebody\n on Mars would offer a lot of money for your cabin. So STAR would just\n bump you off, refund part of your money and leave you stranded there.\n In order to get the monopoly, they had to promise to stop all that. And\n the Solar Congress makes them sign contracts guaranteeing you that they\n won't put you off against your wishes. Of course, they don't dare do it\n anymore anyway, but that's the law.\"\n\n\n Grandma Perkins sighed. \"It's such a small cabin I don't think anybody\n else would want it. But it's all that I could afford,\" she said,\n smoothing out the wrinkles in her dress with both hands.\n\n\n \"Anything else I can do for you, Grandma?\"\n\n\n \"No, thank you, Johnny. I think I can make it up the steps to the\n dining room by myself.\"\n\n\n A little while later when Johnny looked into her room to see if she had\n gone, the cabin was empty and the heavy box was back in place in the\n top cabinet.\nThe food that evening was not the very best, Grandma Perkins thought to\n herself, but that was mostly due to her seat. By the time the waiter\n got around to her little cranny most of it was cold. But she didn't\n complain. She enjoyed watching the people with the more expensive\n cabins parade their clothes and their manners at the Captain's table.\n And, it must be admitted, she was more than a trifle envious of them.\n Her acquaintances of the afternoon, Miss Toujours and Mr. Carlton, were\n seated there, Miss Toujours having the place of honor to the Captain's\n right.\n\n\n Grandma watched them as they finished up their food and then she moved\n from her little table over to one of the very comfortable sofas in the\n main lounge. In reality she wasn't supposed to be sitting there, but\n she hoped that she could get away with it. The divans were so much more\n comfortable than her hard, narrow bed that she felt like sitting there\n for a long time, by herself, just thinking.\n\n\n But her hopes met with disappointment. For shortly after she sat down,\n Darling Toujours and Carlton E. Carlton strolled over and sat down\n across from her, not recognizing her at first. Then Carlton spied her.\n\n\n \"Darling! There's that priceless little woman we met this afternoon.\"\n\n\n \"The little hag, you mean,\" Miss Toujours muttered under her breath,\n but loudly enough for Grandma Perkins to hear.\n\n\n \"Why, hello, Miss Toujours. And Mr. Carlton too. I hope you'll forgive\n me for this afternoon. I've found out who you were, you see.\"\n\n\n \"Of course we forgive you, Mrs. Jerkins,\" Darling said throatily,\n baring her teeth like a feline.\n\n\n \"My name is Perkins,\" Grandma smiled.\n\n\n \"I hope you don't mind, Toujours, but you know, you remind me a great\n deal of my grandniece, Agatha. She was undoubtedly the most lovely\n child I've ever seen.\"\n\n\n \"Why, thank you, Mrs. Perkins,\" Darling purred, starting to preen just\n a bit. Anything could be forgiven someone who complimented her.\n\n\n \"Of course, Agatha never was quite bright,\" Grandma said as she turned\n her head aside as if in sorrow. \"They were all set to put her in an\n institution when she ran off and married the lizard man in a carnival.\n I believe she's still appearing in the show as the bearded lady. A\n pity. She was so pretty, just like you.\"\n\n\n Darling Toujours muttered a few choice words under her breath.\n\n\n \"But we must all make the best of things as they come. That's what\n Omar, my husband, used to say.\" Grandma paused to wipe away a small\n tear that had gotten lodged in one of her eyes. \"That reminds me,\" she\n said finally, \"I've got a three dimensional picture of Omar right here.\n And pictures of all my children, my ten lovely children. I brought them\n with me specially tonight because I thought you might want to look at\n them. Now, where did I put them?\" Grandma opened her purse and began\n rummaging around in its voluminous confines.\n\n\n Darling and Carlton exchanged horrified glances and then rose silently\n and tip-toed out of the lounge.\n\n\n Grandma looked up from her search. \"Oh, my, they seem to have gone.\"\n\n\n Johnny Weaver, who had been clearing one of the nearby tables, put down\n a stack of dirty dishes and came over to her. \"I'd like to see the\n pictures, Grandma.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, that's very nice of you, Johnny, but—\" she said quickly.\n\n\n \"Really I would, Grandma. Where are they?\"\n\n\n \"I—\" She stopped and the devilment showed in her eyes. Her withered\n little face pursed itself into a smile. \"There aren't any pictures,\n Johnny. I don't carry any. I know their faces all so well I don't have\n to. But any time I want to get rid of somebody I just offer to show\n them pictures of my family. You'd be surprised how effective it is.\"\n\n\n Johnny laughed. \"Why are you going to Earth, anyway, Grandma?\"\n\n\n The old woman sighed. \"It's a long story, Johnny, but you just sit down\n and I'll tell it to you.\"\n\n\n \"I can't sit down in the lounge, but I'll be glad to stand up and\n listen.\"\n\n\n \"Then I'll make it a short story. You see, Johnny, I'm an old woman.\n I'll be 152 this year. And ever since Omar, my husband, died a few\n years ago, I've lived from pillar to post. First with one child and\n then with another. They've all been married for decades now of course,\n with children and grandchildren of their own. And I guess that I just\n get in their way. There just isn't much left in life for a feeble old\n woman like me.\" She sniffled a moment or two as if to cry. Johnny,\n remembering the heavy box in her cabin that got moved up and down\n without his help, suppressed a smile on the word \"feeble.\"\n\n\n \"There aren't many friends my age left around any more. So I'm being\n sent to Earth to a home full of dear, sweet old ladies my age, the\n money for which is being provided by my dear, sweet children—all ten\n of them.\" Grandma dabbed a bit of a handkerchief at her eyes. \"The\n rats,\" she muttered under her breath. When she saw her companion was\n smiling she dropped her pretense of crying.\n\n\n \"To be truthful, Johnny, they've grown old and stodgy, all of them.\n And I'm sure they think I've lost most of my marbles. Everything I did\n embarrassed them, so I guess it's for the best, but—\"\n\n\n Grandma Perkins never finished the sentence, for interrupting her came\n the horrendous clang of the\nKismet's\ngeneral alarm, and on its heels,\n charging through the main salon like a rhinoceros in heat, came Captain\n Fogarty.\n\n\n \"PIRATES! PIRATES! We're being attacked by space pirates! You there!\"\n he shouted at Johnny. \"Man your station! And you, Madam, to your\n quarters at once! PIRATES!\" he shouted again and barged through the\n door again and bellowed down the hall to the main bridge.\n\n\n Johnny was off like a startled rabbit, but Grandma moved with serene\n calmness to the door. Maybe, she thought, we're going to have a little\n excitement after all.\n\n\n At the door to the steps leading to her downstairs cabin she paused to\n think.\n\n\n \"If I go down and hide, I'll miss all the fun. Of course, it's safer,\n and an old woman like me shouldn't be up and about when pirates are\n around, but—\" A delicious smile spread over her face as she took her\n scruples firmly in hand and turned to follow the bellowing Captain\n towards the bridge.\nII\n\n\n The Starship\nKismet\nwas the pride and joy of Stellar Transportation\n and Atomic Research. It was outfitted with every known safety device\n and the control room was masterfully planned for maximum efficiency.\n But the astral architect who designed her never anticipated the\n situation facing her at the present. The\nKismet's\nbridge was a welter\n of confusion.\n\n\n The Senior Watch Officer was shouting at his assistant, the Navigator\n was cursing out the Pilot and the Gunnery Officer, whose job had been\n a sinecure until now, was bellowing at them all. Above the hubbub,\n suddenly, came the raucous voice of Captain Fogarty as he stalked onto\n the bridge.\n\n\n \"What in great space has happened to the motors? Why are we losing\n speed?\"\n\n\n The Senior Watch Officer saluted and shouted, \"Engine Room reports the\n engines have all stopped, Sir. Don't know why. We're operating the\n lights and vents on emergency power.\"\n\n\n The Communications Officer spoke up. \"The pirate ship reports that\n they're responsible, Sir. They say they've got a new device that will\n leave us without atomic power for as long as they like.\"\n\n\n As if to confirm this, over the loudspeaker came a voice. \"Ahoy, STAR\nKismet\n. Stand by for boarders. If you don't open up to us, we'll\n blast you off the map.\"\n\n\n \"Pirates! Attacking us! Incredible!\" cried the Captain. \"There are no\n pirates any more. What have we got a Space Patrol for? Where in blazes\n is the Space Patrol anyway?\"\n\n\n The Communications Officer gulped. \"Er, ah, we got in contact with\n Commodore Trumble. He says his ship can get here in ten hours anyway,\n and for us to wait for him.\"\n\n\n Captain Fogarty snorted. \"Fat lot of good he'll do us. Wait for him,\n eh? Well, we'll just blow that pirate out of the sky right now. Stand\n by the guns!\"\n\n\n \"The guns are useless,\" whined the Gunnery Officer. \"The atomics that\n run them won't operate at all. What will we do?\"\n\n\n \"Ahoy, STAR\nKismet\n. Open up your hatches when we arrive and let us\n in, or we won't spare a man of you,\" boomed the loudspeaker.\n\n\n \"Pirates going to board us. How nice,\" muttered Grandma to herself as\n she eavesdropped just outside the door to the bridge.\n\n\n \"They'll never get through the hatches alive. At least our small arms\n still work. We'll kill 'em all!\" cried Captain Fogarty.\n\n\n \"We only want one of you. All the rest of you will be spared if you\n open up the hatches and don't try to make no trouble,\" came the voice\n over the radio.\n\n\n \"Tell them I'd rather all of us be killed than to let one dirty pirate\n on board my ship,\" the Captain shouted to the Communications Officer.\n\n\n \"Oh, my goodness. That doesn't sound very smart,\" Grandma said half\n aloud. And turning from the doorway, she crept back through the\n deserted passageway.\n\n\n The main passenger hatch was not too far from the bridge. Grandma found\n it with ease, and in less than three minutes she had zipped herself\n into one of the emergency-use space suits stowed away beside the port.\n She felt awfully awkward climbing into the monstrous steel and plastic\n contraption, and her small body didn't quite fit the proportions of the\n metallic covering. But once she had maneuvered herself into it, she\n felt quite at ease.\n\n\n Opening the inner door to the airlock, she clanked into the little\n room. As the door shut behind her, she pressed the cycling button and\n evacuated the air from the lock.\n\n\n A minute or so later she heard poundings outside the airlock and quite\n calmly she reached out a mailed fist and turned a switch plainly\n marked:\nEMERGENCY LOCK\n\n DO NOT OPERATE IN FLIGHT\n\n\n The outer hatch opened almost immediately. The radio in Grandma's suit\n crackled with static. \"What are you doing here?\" demanded a voice over\n the suit radio.\n\n\n \"Pirates! I'm hiding from the pirates. They'll never find me here!\" she\n told them in a voice she hoped sounded full of panic.\n\n\n \"What's your name?\" asked the voice.\n\n\n \"Darling Toujours, famous television actress,\" she lied quite calmly.\n\n\n \"That's the one, boys,\" said another voice. \"Let's go.\" Catching hold\n of Grandma's arm, they led her out into the emptiness of free space.\nHalf an hour later, after the pirate ship had blasted far enough away\n from the\nKismet\n, the men in the control room relaxed and began to\n take off their space suits. One of the men who Grandma soon learned was\n Lamps O'Toole, the nominal leader of the pirates, stretched his brawny\n body to ease the crinks out of it and then rubbed his hands together.\n Grandma noticed that he carried a week's beard on his face, as did most\n of the other men.\n\n\n \"Well, that was a good one, eh, Snake?\" said Lamps.\n\n\n Snake Simpson was a wiry little man whose tough exterior in no way\n suggested a reptile, except, perhaps, for his eyes which sat too close\n to one another. \"You bet, Skipper. We're full fledged pirates now, just\n like old Captain Blackbrood.\"\n\n\n \"You mean Blackbeard, Snake,\" said Lamps.\n\n\n \"Sure. He used to sit around broodin' up trouble all the time.\"\n\n\n One of the other men piped up. \"And to think we get the pleasurable\n company of the sweetest doll in the whole solar system for free besides\n the money.\"\n\n\n \"Aw, women are no dern good—all of them,\" said Snake.\n\n\n \"Now, Snake, that's no way to talk in front of company. You just\n apologize to the lady,\" Lamps told him. Lamps was six inches taller and\n fifty pounds heavier than Snake. Snake apologized.\n\n\n \"That's better. And now, Miss Toujours, maybe you'd be more\n comfortable without that space suit on,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Oh, no, thank you. I feel much better with it on,\" a small voice said\n over the suit's loudspeaker system.\n\n\n Lamps grinned. \"Oh, come now, Miss Toujours. We ain't going to hurt\n you. I guarantee nobody will lay a finger to you.\"\n\n\n \"But I feel much—much safer, if you know what I mean,\" said the voice.\n\n\n \"Heck. With one of them things on, you can't eat, can't sleep,\n can't—Well, there's lots of things you can't do with one of them\n things on. Besides, we all want to take a little look at you, if you\n don't mind. Snake, you and Willie help the little lady out of her\n attire.\"\n\n\n As the men approached her, Grandma sensed the game was up. \"Okay,\" she\n told them. \"I give up. I can make it by myself.\" She started to take\n the bulky covering off. She had gotten no more than the headpiece off\n when the truth dawned on her companions.\n\n\n \"Holy Smoke (or something like that),\" said one of the men.\n\n\n \"Nippin' Nebulae,\" said another.\n\n\n \"It ain't Darling Toujours at all!\" cried Lamps.\n\n\n \"It ain't even no woman!\" cried Snake.\n\n\n \"I beg your pardon,\" said Grandma, and quite nonchalantly shed the rest\n of the suit and sat down in a comfortable chair. \"I am Mrs. Matilda\n Perkins.\"\n\n\n When he could recover his powers of speech, Lamps sputtered, \"I think\n you owe us a sort of an explanation, lady. If you know what I mean.\"\n\n\n \"Certainly. I know exactly what you mean. It's all quite simple. When I\n overheard that you intended to board the\nKismet\n, searching for only\n one person, I decided that one person had to be Darling Toujours. I\n guessed right off that she was the only one on board worth kidnapping\n and holding for ransom, so I simply let you believe that I was she and\n you took me. That's easy to understand, isn't it?\"\n\n\n \"Lady, I don't know what your game is, but it better be good. Now, just\n why did you do this to us?\" Lamps was restraining himself nobly.\n\n\n \"You never would have gotten inside the\nKismet\nwithout my assistance.\n And even if you had, you'd never have gotten back out alive.\n\n\n \"Captain Fogarty's men would have cut you to ribbons. So I opened the\n hatch to let you in, planted myself in the way, and you got out with\n me before they could muster their defenses. So, you see, I saved your\n lives.\"\n\n\n Grandma Perkins paused in her narrative and looked up at her audience,\n giving them a withered little smile. \"And if you want to know why,\n well ... I was bored on the\nKismet\n, and I thought how nice it would\n be to run away and join a gang of cutthroat pirates.\"\n\n\n \"She's batty,\" moaned Snake.\n\n\n \"She's lost her marbles,\" muttered another.\n\n\n \"Let's toss her overboard right now,\" said still another.\n\n\n Lamps O'Toole took the floor. \"Now, wait a minute. We can't do that,\"\n he said loudly. \"We got enough trouble as is. You know what would\n happen to us if the Space Patrol added murder to the list. They'd put\n the whole fleet in after us and track us and our families down to the\n last kid.\" Then he turned to the little old lady to explain.\n\n\n \"Look, lady—\"\n\n\n \"My name is Mrs. Matilda Perkins. You may call me Grandma.\"\n\n\n \"Okay, Grandma, look. You really fixed us good. To begin with, we ain't\n really pirates. We used to operate this tub as a freighter between the\n Jupiter moons. But STAR got a monopoly on all space flights, including\n freight, and they just froze us out. We can't operate nowhere in the\n solar system, unless we get their permission. And they just ain't\n giving permission to nobody these days.\" Lamps flopped into one of the\n control seats and lit a cigarette.\n\n\n \"So, when us good, honest men couldn't find any work because of STAR,\n and we didn't want to give up working in space, we just ups and decides\n to become pirates. This was our first job, and we sure did need the\n money we could have gotten out of Darling Toujours' studios for ransom.\"\n\n\n Lamps sighed. \"Now, we got you instead, no chance of getting the ransom\n money, and to top it all off, we'll be wanted for piracy by the Space\n Patrol.\"\n\n\n \"Well, it doesn't seem to me that you're ever going to be good pirates\n at this rate,\" Grandma told him. \"You should have known better than to\n take a woman at her word.\"\n\n\n \"I don't suppose you got any rich relatives what would pay to get you\n back?\" suggested Snake hopefully.\n\n\n \"I haven't got any rich relatives period,\" she said pertly. Then she\n added, \"But my ten children might scrape up a little cash for you if\n you promised you wouldn't bring me back at all.\"\n\n\n \"I figured as much,\" Lamps said dolefully. \"Lookit, Grandma, the best\n thing we can do is to put you off safely at the next place we stop.\n Unless we get you back in one piece the Space Patrol will be on our\n necks forever. So don't go getting any ideas about joining up with us.\"\n\n\n \"Well, the very least you could do for a poor old lady is to feed her,\"\n Grandma told him, her lower lip sticking out in a most petulant manner.\n \"They like to have starved me to death on that\nKismet\n.\"\n\n\n \"We ain't got much fancy in the line of grub....\" Lamps began.\n\n\n \"Just show me the way to the kitchen,\" said Grandma.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Of the following options, which traits best describe Darling Toujours?", "question_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD_1", "options": ["Pretty and kind", "Naive and lovely", "Gorgeous and patient", "Rude and beautiful"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, which traits best describe Grandma Perkins?", "question_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD_2", "options": ["strong and hilarious", "clever and dangerous", "kind and reserved", "curious and fragile"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, which traits best describe Johnny?", "question_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD_3", "options": ["lucky and kind", "oblivious and lucky", "smart and kind", "dumb and nice"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is likely Grandma Perkins's primary motivation for interfering with the pirates?", "question_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD_4", "options": ["She knew someone on the pirate ship and didn't want the Captain to kill him", "She knew they were going to kidnap Darling Toujours and she didn't want them to", "She was bored", "She wanted to find a more fun way to get back to Earth"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, which best describe Captain Homer Fogarty?", "question_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD_5", "options": ["Dumb and kind", "Handsome and brave", "Brave and desperate", "Rash and impatient"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "If the pirates hadn't tried to ambush the ship, what would've most likely happened to Grandma Perkins?", "question_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD_6", "options": ["She would've convinced the pirates to pick her up once she got to Earth.", "She would've reached Earth and might've tried to avoid the nursing home.", "She would've contacted another transportation agency and altered her travel plans.", "She would've found a way to escape the ship before reaching Earth."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following is NOT a technological advancement that's a part of this story?", "question_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD_7", "options": ["The ability to watch media with 3D capabilities", "The ability to live on places other than Earth", "The ability to transfer between spaceships", "The ability to control spaceships with voice-command technologies"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, which is not an issue discussed within this fantasy world?", "question_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD_8", "options": ["Classism", "Evil Corporations", "Racism", "Crimes"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, who might enjoy reading this story the most and why?", "question_unique_id": "63812_G3YOJRZD_9", "options": ["A reader who loves adventure stories and intriguing characters", "A video game player who loves playing space-themed games", "A sci-fi nerd who loves rebellions", "A sci-fi nerd who loves reading stories with unlikable protagonists"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": 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{"article_id": "63392", "set_unique_id": "63392_7YS4HHFI", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Doorway to Kal-Jmar", "year": 1970, "author": "Knight, Damon", "topic": "Extinct cities -- Fiction; PS; Science fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Short stories", "article": "Doorway to Kal-Jmar\nBy Stuart Fleming\nTwo men had died before Syme Rector's guns\n\n to give him the key to the ancient city of\n\n Kal-Jmar—a city of untold wealth, and of\n\n robots that made desires instant commands.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1944.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe tall man loitered a moment before a garish window display, his eyes\n impassive in his space-burned face, as the Lillis patrolman passed.\n Then he turned, burying his long chin in the folds of his sand cape,\n and took up the pursuit of the dark figure ahead once more.\n\n\n Above, the city's multicolored lights were reflected from the\n translucent Dome—a distant, subtly distorted Lillis, through which the\n stars shone dimly.\n\n\n Getting through that dome had been his first urgent problem, but now he\n had another, and a more pressing one. It had been simple enough to pass\n himself off as an itinerant prospector and gain entrance to the city,\n after his ship had crashed in the Mare Cimmerium. But the rest would\n not be so simple. He had to acquire a spaceman's identity card, and he\n had to do it fast. It was only a matter of time until the Triplanet\n Patrol gave up the misleading trail he had made into the hill country,\n and concluded that he must have reached Lillis. After that, his only\n safety lay in shipping out on a freighter as soon as possible. He had\n to get off Mars, because his trail was warm, and the Patrol thorough.\n\n\n They knew, of course, that he was an outlaw—the very fact of the\n crashed, illegally-armed ship would have told them that. But they\n didn't know that he was Syme Rector, the most-wanted and most-feared\n raider in the System. In that was his only advantage.\n\n\n He walked a little faster, as his quarry turned up a side street and\n then boarded a moving ramp to an upper level. He watched until the\n short, wide-shouldered figure in spaceman's harness disappeared over\n the top of the ramp, and then followed.\n\n\n The man was waiting for him at the mouth of the ascending tunnel.\n\n\n Syme looked at him casually, without a flicker of expression, and\n started to walk on, but the other stepped into his path. He was quite\n young, Syme saw, with a fighter's shoulders under the white leather,\n and a hard, determined thrust to his firm jaw.\n\n\n \"All right,\" the boy said quietly. \"What is it?\"\n\n\n \"I don't understand,\" Syme said.\n\n\n \"The game, the angle. You've been following me. Do you want trouble?\"\n\n\n \"Why, no,\" Syme told him bewilderedly. \"I haven't been following you.\n I—\"\n\n\n The boy knuckled his chin reflectively. \"You could be lying,\" he said\n finally. \"But maybe I've made a mistake.\" Then—\"Okay, citizen, you can\n clear—but don't let me catch you on my tail again.\"\n\n\n Syme murmured something and turned away, feeling the spaceman's eyes\n on the small of his back until he turned the corner. At the next\n street he took a ramp up, crossed over and came down on the other side\n a block away. He waited until he saw the boy's broad figure pass the\n intersection, and then followed again more cautiously.\n\n\n It was risky, but there was no other way. The signatures, the data,\n even the photograph on the card could be forged once Syme got his hands\n on it, but the identity card itself—that oblong of dark diamondite,\n glowing with the tiny fires of radioactivity—that could not be\n imitated, and the only way to get it was to kill.\n\n\n Up ahead was the Founders' Tower, the tallest building in Lillis. The\n boy strode into the entrance lobby, bought a ticket for the observation\n platform, and took the elevator. As soon as his car was out of sight in\n the transparent tube, Syme followed. He put a half-credit slug into the\n machine, took the punctured slip of plastic that came out. The ticket\n went into a scanning slot in the wall of the car, and the elevator\n whisked him up.\nThe tower was high, more than a hundred meters above the highest level\n of the city, and the curved dome that kept air in Lillis was close\n overhead. Syme looked up, after his first appraising glance about the\n platform, and saw the bright-blue pinpoint of Earth. The sight stirred\n a touch of nostalgia in him, as it always did, but he put it aside.\n\n\n The boy was hunched over the circular balustrade a little distance\n away. Except for him, the platform was empty. Syme loosened his slim,\n deadly energy pistol in its holster and padded catlike toward the\n silent figure.\n\n\n It was over in a minute. The boy whirled as he came up, warned by\n some slight sound, or by the breath of Syme's passage in the still\n air. He opened his mouth to shout, and brought up his arm in a swift,\n instinctive gesture. But the blow never landed. Syme's pistol spat its\n silent white pencil of flame, and the boy crumpled to the floor with a\n minute, charred hole in the white leather over his chest.\nSyme stooped over him swiftly, found a thick wallet and thrust it into\n his pocket without a second glance. Then he raised the body in his arms\n and thrust it over the parapet.\n\n\n It fell, and in the same instant Syme felt a violent tug at his wrist.\n Before he could move to stop himself, he was over the edge. Too late,\n he realized what had happened—one of the hooks on the dead spaceman's\n harness had caught the heavy wristband of his chronometer. He was\n falling, linked to the body of his victim!\n\n\n Hardly knowing what he did, he lashed out wildly with his other arm,\n felt his fingertips catch and bite into the edge of the balustrade. His\n body hit the wall of the tower with a thump, and, a second later, the\n corpse below him hit the wall. Then they both hung there, swaying a\n little and Syme's fingers slipped a little with each motion.\n\n\n Gritting his teeth, he brought the magnificent muscles of his arm into\n play, raising the forearm against the dead weight of the dangling body.\n Fraction by slow fraction of an inch, it came up. Syme could feel the\n sweat pouring from his brow, running saltily into his eyes. His arms\n felt as if they were being torn from their sockets. Then the hook\n slipped free, and the tearing, unbearable weight vanished.\n\n\n The reaction swung Syme against the building again, and he almost\n lost his slippery hold on the balustrade. After a moment he heard the\n spaceman's body strike with a squashy thud, somewhere below.\n\n\n He swung up his other arm, got a better grip on the balustrade. He\n tried cautiously to get a leg up, but the motion loosened his hold on\n the smooth surface again. He relaxed, thinking furiously. He could hold\n on for another minute at most; then it was the final blast-off.\n\n\n He heard running footsteps, and then a pale face peered over the ledge\n at him. He realized suddenly that the whole incident could have taken\n only a few seconds. He croaked, \"Get me up.\"\n\n\n Wordlessly, the man clasped thin fingers around his wrist. The other\n pulled, with much puffing and panting, and with his help Syme managed\n to get a leg over the edge and hoist his trembling body to safety.\n\n\n \"Are you all right?\"\nSyme looked at the man, nursing the tortured muscles of his arms. His\n rescuer was tall and thin, of indeterminate age. He had light, sandy\n hair, a sharp nose, and—oddly conflicting—pale, serious eyes and a\n humorous wide mouth. He was still panting.\n\n\n \"I'm not hurt,\" Syme said. He grinned, his white teeth flashing in his\n dark, lean face. \"Thanks for giving me a hand.\"\n\n\n \"You scared hell out of me,\" said the man. \"I heard a thud. I\n thought—you'd gone over.\" He looked at Syme questioningly.\n\n\n \"That was my bag,\" the outlaw said quickly. \"It slipped out of my hand,\n and I overbalanced myself when I grabbed for it.\"\n\n\n The man sighed. \"I need a drink.\nYou\nneed a drink. Come on.\" He\n picked up a small black suitcase from the floor and started for the\n elevator, then stopped. \"Oh—your bag. Shouldn't we do something about\n that?\"\n\n\n \"Never mind,\" said Syme, taking his arm. \"The shock must have busted it\n wide open. My laundry is probably all over Lillis by now.\"\n\n\n They got off at the amusement level, three tiers down, and found a\n cafe around the corner. Syme wasn't worried about the man he had just\n killed. He had heard no second thud, so the body must have stayed on\n the first outcropping of the tower it struck. It probably wouldn't be\n found until morning.\n\n\n And he had the wallet. When he paid for the first round of\nculcha\n, he\n took it out and stole a glance at the identification card inside. There\n it was—his ticket to freedom. He began feeling expansive, and even\n friendly toward the slender, mouse-like man across the table. It was\n the\nculcha\n, of course. He knew it, and didn't care. In the morning\n he'd find a freighter berth—in as big a spaceport as Lillis, there\n were always jobs open. Meanwhile, he might as well enjoy himself, and\n it was safer to be seen with a companion than to be alone.\n\n\n He listened lazily to what the other was saying, leaning his tall,\n graceful body back into the softly-cushioned seat.\n\n\n \"Lissen,\" said Harold Tate. He leaned forward on one elbow, slipped,\n caught himself, and looked at the elbow reproachfully. \"Lissen,\" he\n said again, \"I trust you, Jones. You're obvi-obviously an adventurer,\n but you have an honest face. I can't see it very well at the moment,\n but I hic!—pardon—seem to recall it as an honest face. I'm going to\n tell you something, because I need your help!—help.\" He paused. \"I\n need a guide. D'you know this part of Mars well?\"\n\n\n \"Sure,\" said Syme absently. Out in the center of the floor, an AG\n plate had been turned on. Five Venusian girls were diving and twisting\n in its influence, propelling themselves by the motion of their\n delicately-webbed feet and trailing long gauzy streamers of synthesilk\n after them. Syme watched them through narrowed lids, feeling the glow\n of\nculcha\ninside him.\n\n\n \"I wanta go to Kal-Jmar,\" said Tate.\n\n\n Syme snapped to attention, every nerve tingling. An indefinable sense,\n a hunch that had served him well before, told him that something big\n was coming—something that promised adventure and loot for Syme Rector.\n \"Why?\" he asked softly. \"Why to Kal-Jmar?\"\n\n\n Harold Tate told him, and later, when Syme had taken him to his rooms,\n he showed him what was in his little black suitcase. Syme had been\n right; it was big.\nKal-Jmar was the riddle of the Solar System. It was the only remaining\n city of the ancient Martian race—the race that, legends said, had\n risen to greater heights than any other Solar culture. The machines,\n the artifacts, the records of the Martians were all there, perfectly\n preserved inside the city's bubble-like dome, after God knew how many\n thousands of years. But they couldn't be reached.\n\n\n For Kal-Jmar's dome was not the thing of steelite that protected\n Lillis: it was a tenuous, globular field of force that defied analysis\n as it defied explosives and diamond drills. The field extended both\n above and below the ground, and tunneling was of no avail. No one knew\n what had happened to the Martians, whether they were the ancestors of\n the present decadent Martian race, or a different species. No one knew\n anything about them or about Kal-Jmar.\n\n\n In the early days, when the conquest of Mars was just beginning, Earth\n scientists had been wild to get into the city. They had observed it\n from every angle, taken photographs of its architecture and the robots\n that still patrolled its fantastically winding streets, and then they\n had tried everything they knew to pierce the wall.\n\n\n Later, however, when every unsuccessful attempt had precipitated a\n bloody uprising of the present-day Martians—resulting in a rapid\n dwindling of the number of Martians—the Mars Protectorate had stepped\n in and forbidden any further experiments; forbidden, in fact, any\n Earthman to go near the place.\n\n\n Thus matter had stood for over a hundred years, until Harold Tate.\n Tate, a physicist, had stumbled on a field that seemed to be identical\n in properties to the Kal-Jmar dome; and what is more, he had found a\n force that would break it down.\n\n\n And so he had made his first trip to Mars, and within twenty-four\n hours, by the blindest of chances, blurted out his secret to Syme\n Rector, the scourge of the spaceways, the man with a thousand credits\n on his sleek, tigerish head.\n\n\n Syme's smile was not tigerish now; it was carefully, studiedly mild.\n For Tate was no longer drunk, and it was important that it should not\n occur to him that he had been indiscreet.\n\n\n \"This is native territory we're coming to, Harold,\" he said. \"Better\n strap on your gun.\"\n\n\n \"Why. Are they really dangerous?\"\n\n\n \"They're unpredictable,\" Syme told him. \"They're built differently, and\n they think differently. They breathe like us, down in their caverns\n where there's air, but they also eat sand, and get their oxygen that\n way.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I've heard about that,\" Tate said. \"Iron oxide—very interesting\n metabolism.\" He got his energy pistol out of the compartment and\n strapped it on absently.\n\n\n Syme turned the little sand car up a gentle rise towards the tortuous\n hill country in the distance. \"Not only that,\" he continued. \"They\n eat the damndest stuff. Lichens and fungi and tumble-grass off the\n deserts—all full of deadly poisons, from arsenic up the line to\n xopite. They seem intelligent enough—in their own way—but they never\n come near our cities and they either can't or won't learn Terrestrial.\n When the first colonists came here, they had to learn\ntheir\ncrazy\n language. Every word of it can mean any one of a dozen different\n things, depending on the inflection you give it. I can speak it some,\n but not much. Nobody can. We don't think the same.\"\n\n\n \"So you think they might attack us?\" Tate asked again, nervously.\n\n\n \"They\nmight\ndo anything,\" Syme said curtly. \"Don't worry about it.\"\n\n\n The hills were much closer than they had seemed, because of Mars'\n deceptively low horizon. In half an hour they were in the midst of a\n wilderness of fantastically eroded dunes and channels, laboring on\n sliding treads up the sides of steep hills only to slither down again\n on the other side.\nSyme stopped the car abruptly as a deep, winding channel appeared\n across their path. \"Gully,\" he announced. \"Shall we cross it, or follow\n it?\"\n\n\n Tate peered through the steelite nose of the car. \"Follow, I guess,\"\n he offered. \"It seems to go more or less where we're going, and if we\n cross it we'll only come to a couple dozen more.\"\n\n\n Syme nodded and moved the sand car up to the edge of the gully. Then he\n pressed a stud on the control board; a metal arm extruded from the tail\n of the car and a heavy spike slowly unscrewed from it, driving deep\n into the sand. A light on the board flashed, indicating that the spike\n was in and would bear the car's weight, and Syme started the car over\n the edge.\n\n\n As the little car nosed down into the gully, the metal arm left behind\n revealed itself to be attached to a length of thick, very strong wire\n cable, with a control cord inside. They inched down the almost vertical\n incline, unreeling the cable behind them, and starting minor landslides\n as they descended.\n\n\n Finally they touched bottom. Syme pressed another stud, and above, the\n metal spike that had supported them screwed itself out of the ground\n again and the cable reeled in.\n\n\n Tate had been watching with interest. \"Very ingenious,\" he said. \"But\n how do we get up again?\"\n\n\n \"Most of these gullies peter out gradually,\" said Syme, \"but if we want\n or have to climb out where it's deep, we have a little harpoon gun that\n shoots the anchor up on top.\"\n\n\n \"Good. I shouldn't like to stay down here for the rest of my\n natural life. Depressing view.\" He looked up at the narrow strip of\n almost-black sky visible from the floor of the gully, and shook his\n head.\n\n\n Neither Syme nor Tate ever had a chance to test the efficiency of their\n harpoon gun. They had traveled no more than five hundred meters, and\n the gully was as deep as ever, when Tate, looking up, saw a deeper\n blackness blot out part of the black sky directly overhead. He shouted,\n \"Look out!\" and grabbed for the nearest steering lever.\n\n\n The car wheeled around in a half circle and ran into the wall of the\n gully. Syme was saying, \"What—?\" when there was a thunderous crash\n that shook the sturdy walls of the car, as a huge boulder smashed into\n the ground immediately to their left.\n\n\n When the smoky red dust had cleared away, they saw that the left tread\n of the sand car was crushed beyond all recognition.\n\n\n Syme was cursing slowly and steadily with a deep, seething anger. Tate\n said, \"I guess we walk from here on.\" Then he looked up again and\n caught a glimpse of the horde of beasts that were rushing up the gully\n toward them.\n\n\n \"My God!\" he said. \"What are those?\"\n\n\n Syme looked. \"Those,\" he said bitterly, \"are Martians.\"\n\n\n The natives, like all Martian fauna, were multi-legged. Also like all\n Martian fauna, they moved so fast that you couldn't see how many legs\n they did have. Actually, however, the natives had six legs apiece—or,\n more properly, four legs and two arms. Their lungs were not as large\n as they appeared, being collapsed at the moment. What caused the bulge\n that made their torsos look like sausages was a huge air bladder, with\n a valve arrangement from the stomach and feeding directly into the\n bloodstream.\n\n\n Their faces were vaguely canine, but the foreheads were high, and the\n lips were not split. They did resemble dogs, in that their thick black\n fur was splotched with irregulate patches of white. These patches of\n white were subject to muscular control and could be spread out fanwise;\n or, conversely, the black could be expanded to cover the white, which\n helped to take care of the extremes of Martian temperature. Right now\n they were mostly black.\n\n\n The natives slowed down and spread out to surround the wrecked sand\n car, and it could be seen that most of them were armed with spears,\n although some had the slim Benson energy guns—strictly forbidden to\n Martians.\n\n\n Syme stopped cursing and watched tensely. Tate said nothing, but he\n swallowed audibly.\n\n\n One Martian, who looked exactly like all the rest, stepped forward and\n motioned unmistakably for the two to come out. He waited a moment and\n then gestured with his energy gun. That gun, Syme knew from experience,\n could burn through a small thickness of steelite if held on the same\n spot long enough.\n\"Come on,\" Syme said grimly. He rose and reached for a pressure suit,\n and Tate followed him.\n\n\n \"What do you think they'll—\" he began, and then stopped himself. \"I\n know. They're unpredictable.\"\n\n\n \"Yeah,\" said Syme, and opened the door. The air in the car\nwhooshed\ninto the near-vacuum outside, and he and Tate stepped out.\n\n\n The Martian leader looked at them enigmatically, then turned and\n started off. The other natives closed in on them, and they all bounded\n along under the weak gravity.\n\n\n They bounded along for what Syme figured as a good kilometer and a\n half, and they then reached a branch in the gully and turned down\n it, going lower all the time. Under the light of their helmet lamps,\n they could see the walls of the gully—a tunnel, now—getting darker\n and more solid. Finally, when Syme estimated they were about nine\n kilometers down, there was even a suggestion of moisture.\n\n\n The tunnel debouched at last into a large cavern. There was a\n phosphorescent gleam from fungus along the walls, but Syme couldn't\n decide how far away the far wall was. He noticed something else, though.\n\n\n \"There's air here,\" he said to Tate. \"I can see dust motes in it.\" He\n switched his helmet microphone from radio over to the audio membrane\n on the outside of the helmet. \"\nKalis methra\n,\" he began haltingly,\n \"\nseltin guna getal.\n\"\n\n\n \"Yes, there is air here,\" said the Martian leader, startlingly. \"Not\n enough for your use, however, so do not open your helmets.\"\n\n\n Syme swore amazedly.\n\n\n \"I thought you said they didn't speak Terrestrial,\" Tate said. Syme\n ignored him.\n\n\n \"We had our reasons for not doing so,\" the Martian said.\n\n\n \"But how—?\"\n\n\n \"We are telepaths, of course. On a planet which is nearly airless on\n its surface, we have to be. A tendency of the Terrestrial mind is to\n ignore the obvious. We have not had a spoken language of our own for\n several thousand years.\"\n\n\n He darted a glance at Syme's darkly scowling face. His own hairy face\n was expressionless, but Syme sensed that he was amused. \"Yes, you're\n right,\" he said. \"The language you and your fellows struggled to learn\n is a fraud, a hodge-podge concocted to deceive you.\"\n\n\n Tate looked interested. \"But why this—this gigantic masquerade?\"\n\n\n \"You had nothing to give us,\" the Martian said simply.\n\n\n Tate frowned, then flushed. \"You mean you avoided revealing yourselves\n because you—had nothing to gain from mental intercourse with us?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n Tate thought again. \"But—\"\n\n\n \"No,\" the Martian interrupted him, \"revealing the extent of our\n civilization would have spared us nothing at your people's hands. Yours\n is an imperialist culture, and you would have had Mars, whether you\n thought you were taking it from equals or not.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind that,\" Syme broke in impatiently. \"What do you want with\n us?\"\n\n\n The Martian looked at him appraisingly. \"You already suspect.\n Unfortunately, you must die.\"\nIt was a weird situation, Syme thought. His mind was racing, but as yet\n he could see no way out. He began to wonder, if he did, could he keep\n the Martians from knowing about it? Then he realized that the Martian\n must have received that thought, too, and he was enraged. He stood,\n holding himself in check with an effort.\n\n\n \"Will you tell us why?\" Tate asked.\n\n\n \"You were brought here for that purpose. It is part of our conception\n of justice. I will tell you and your—friend—anything you wish to\n know.\"\n\n\n Syme noticed that the other Martians had retired to the farther side of\n the cavern. Some were munching the glowing fungus. That left only the\n leader, who was standing alertly on all fours a short distance away\n from them, holding the Benson gun trained on them. Syme tried not to\n think about the gun, especially about making a grab for it. It was like\n trying not to think of the word \"hippopotamus.\"\n\n\n Tate squatted down comfortably on the floor of the cavern, apparently\n unconcerned, but his hands were trembling slightly. \"First why—\" he\n began.\n\n\n \"There are many secrets in Kal-Jmar,\" the Martian said, \"among them a\n very simple catalyzing agent which could within fifty years transform\n Mars to a planet with Terrestrially-thick atmosphere.\"\n\n\n \"I think I see,\" Tate said thoughtfully. \"That's been the ultimate aim\n all along, but so far the problem has us licked. If we solved it, then\n we'd have all of Mars, not just the cities. Your people would die out.\n You couldn't have that, of course.\"\n\n\n He sighed deeply. He spread his gloved hands before him and looked\n at them with a queer intentness. \"Well—how about the Martians—the\n Kal-Jmar Martians, I mean? I'd dearly love to know the answer to that\n one.\"\n\n\n \"Neither of the alternatives in your mind is correct. They were not a\n separate species, although they were unlike us. But they were not our\n ancestors, either. They were the contemporaries of our ancestors.\"\n\n\n \"Several thousand years ago Mars' loss of atmosphere began to make\n itself felt. There were two ways out. Some chose to seal themselves\n into cities like Kal-Jmar; our ancestors chose to adapt their bodies to\n the new conditions. Thus the race split. Their answer to the problem\n was an evasion; they remained static. Our answer was the true one, for\n we progressed. We progressed beyond the need of science; they remained\n its slaves. They died of a plague—and other causes.\n\n\n \"You see,\" he finished gently, \"our deception has caused a natural\n confusion in your minds. They were the degenerates, not we.\"\n\n\n \"And yet,\" Tate mused, \"you are being destroyed by contact with\n an—inferior—culture.\"\n\n\n \"We hope to win yet,\" the Martian said.\n\n\n Tate stood up, his face very white. \"Tell me one thing,\" he begged.\n \"Will our two races ever live together in amity?\"\n\n\n The Martian lowered his head. \"That is for unborn generations.\" He\n looked at Tate again and aimed the energy gun. \"You are a brave man,\"\n he said. \"I am sorry.\"\n\n\n Syme saw all his hopes of treasure and glory go glimmering down the\n sights of the Martian's Benson gun, and suddenly the pent-up rage in\n him exploded. Too swiftly for his intention to be telegraphed, before\n he knew himself what he meant to do, he hurled himself bodily into the\n Martian.\nIt was like tangling with a draft horse. The Martian was astonishingly\n strong. Syme scrambled desperately for the gun, got it, but couldn't\n tear it out of the Martian's fingers. And all the time he could almost\n feel the Martian's telepathic call for help surging out. He heard the\n swift pad of his followers coming across the cavern.\n\n\n He put everything he had into one mighty, murderous effort. Every\n muscle fiber in his superbly trained body crackled and surged with\n power. He roared his fury. And the gun twisted out of the Martian's\n iron grip!\n\n\n He clubbed the prostrate leader with it instantly, then reversed the\n weapon and snapped a shot at the nearest Martian. The creature dropped\n his lance and fell without a sound.\n\n\n The next instant a ray blinked at him, and he rolled out of the way\n barely in time. The searing ray cut a swath over the leader's body and\n swerved to cut down on him. Still rolling, he fired at the holder of\n the weapon. The gun dropped and winked out on the floor.\n\n\n Syme jumped to his feet and faced his enemies, snarling like the\n trapped tiger he was. Another ray slashed at him, and he bent lithely\n to let it whistle over his head. Another, lower this time. He flipped\n his body into the air and landed upright, his gun still blazing. His\n right leg burned fiercely from a ray-graze, but he ignored it. And\n all the while he was mowing down the massed natives in great swaths,\n seeking out the ones armed with Bensons in swift, terrible slashes,\n dodging spears and other missiles in midair, and roaring at the top of\n his powerful lungs.\n\n\n At last there were none with guns left to oppose him. He scythed down\n the rest in two terrible, lightning sweeps of his ray, then dropped\n the weapon from blistered fingers.\n\n\n He was gasping for breath, and realized that he was losing air from\n the seared-open right leg of his suit. He reached for the emergency\n kit at his side, drawing in great, gasping breaths, and fumbled out\n a tube of sealing liquid. He spread the stuff on liberally, smearing\n it impartially over flesh and fabric. It felt like liquid hell on the\n burned, bleeding leg, but he kept on until the quick-drying fluid\n formed an airtight patch.\n\n\n Only then did he turn, to see Tate flattened against the wall behind\n him, his hands empty at his sides. \"I'm sorry,\" Tate said miserably. \"I\n could have grabbed a spear or something, but—I just couldn't, not even\n to save my own life. I—I halfway hoped they'd kill both of us.\"\n\n\n Syme glared at him and spat, too enraged to think of diplomacy. He\n turned and strode out of the cavern, carrying his right leg stiffly,\n but with his feral, tigerish head held high.\n\n\n He led the way, wordlessly, back to the wrecked sand car. Tate followed\n him with a hangdog, beaten air, as though he had just found something\n that shattered all his previous concepts of the verities in life, and\n didn't know what to do about it.\n\n\n Still silently, Syme refilled his oxygen tank, watched Tate do the\n same, and then picked up two spare tanks and the precious black\n suitcase and handed one of the tanks to Tate. Then he stumped around\n to the back of the car and inspected the damage. The cable reel, which\n might have drawn them out of the gully, was hopelessly smashed. That\n was that.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Of the following options, which best describe Syme Rector?", "question_unique_id": "63392_7YS4HHFI_1", "options": ["Strong and nice", "Bold and calculated", "Bold and kind", "Impressive and lucky"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, which best describe Harold Tate?", "question_unique_id": "63392_7YS4HHFI_2", "options": ["brave and calculated", "kind and generous", "curious and timid", "greedy and brave"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How would you describe Syme's and Harold's relationship?", "question_unique_id": "63392_7YS4HHFI_3", "options": ["It's a genuinely friendly relationship", "It's a beautiful relationship", "It's a relationship of necessity", "They quickly become enemies"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the description of the physical traits of the Martians like in the story?", "question_unique_id": "63392_7YS4HHFI_4", "options": ["Detailed, because they were a non-human like creature with very different physical traits", "Brief, because what mattered more about the Martians was what they were doing rather than what they looked like", "Broad, because the appearances of the Martians varied from individual to individual", "Vague, because Syme and Harold barely got a good look at the Martians before they were ambushed"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What happened when the Martians initially split into two populations?", "question_unique_id": "63392_7YS4HHFI_5", "options": ["One population thrived and the other died out", "Both populations suffered as a result of the split", "Both populations eventually combined once more", "Both populations succeeded and thrived, but in very different ways"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "If Syme weren't initially helped by Harold, what would've probably happened to him?", "question_unique_id": "63392_7YS4HHFI_6", "options": ["Syme would've been protected by the building's safety net.", "Syme would've gotten help from someone else.", "Syme would've fallen to his death.", "Syme would've caught himself with his two backup harpoons."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Between Martians and Humans, who seems to have a more advanced civilization?", "question_unique_id": "63392_7YS4HHFI_7", "options": ["Neither are very advanced", "The Humans", "The Martians", "Both are fairly advanced but the Humans are more civilized than the Martians"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, what best summarizes this story?", "question_unique_id": "63392_7YS4HHFI_8", "options": ["A criminal tricks a scientist into giving him resources and aid on a beautiful adventure.", "A criminal forces a scientist to go on an adventure.", "A criminal teams up with a scientist to explore a dangerous area.", "A criminal and a scientist wind up on a fun adventure together."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/3/9/63392//63392-h//63392-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63130", "set_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Mr. Meek Plays Polo", "year": 1953, "author": "Simak, Clifford D.", "topic": "Adventure stories; PS; Asteroids -- Fiction; Science fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Space travelers -- Fiction", "article": "Mr. Meek Plays Polo\nBy CLIFFORD D. SIMAK\nMr. Meek was having his troubles. First, the\neducated\nbugs worried him; then the\n\n welfare worker tried to stop the Ring Rats' feud\n\n by enlisting his aid. And now, he was a drafted\n\n space-polo player—a fortune bet on his ability\n\n at a game he had never played in his cloistered life.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1944.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe sign read:\nAtomic Motors Repaired. Busted\n \nPlates Patched Up. Rocket Tubes\n \nRelined. Wheeze In, Whiz Out!\nIt added, as an afterthought, in shaky, inexpert lettering:\nWe Fix Anything.\nMr. Oliver Meek stared owlishly at the sign, which hung from an arm\n attached to a metal standard sunk in solid rock. A second sign was\n wired to the standard just below the metal arm, but its legend was\n faint, almost illegible. Meek blinked at it through thick-lensed\n spectacles, finally deciphered its scrawl:\nAsk About Educated Bugs.\n\n\n A bit bewildered, but determined not to show it, Meek swung away from\n the sign-post and gravely regarded the settlement. On the chart it was\n indicated by a fairly sizeable dot, but that was merely a matter of\n comparison. Out Saturn-way even the tiniest outpost assumes importance\n far beyond its size.\n\n\n The slab of rock was no more than five miles across, perhaps even\n less. Here in its approximate center, were two buildings, both of\n almost identical construction, semi-spherical and metal. Out here, Meek\n realized, shelter was the thing. Architecture merely for architecture's\n sake was still a long way off.\n\n\n One of the buildings was the repair shop which the sign advertised.\n The other, according to the crudely painted legend smeared above its\n entrance lock, was the\nSaturn Inn\n.\n\n\n The rest of the rock was landing field, pure and simple. Blasters had\n leveled off the humps and irregularities so spaceships could sit down.\n\n\n Two ships now were on the field, pulled up close against the repair\n shop. One, Meek noticed, belonged to the Solar Health and Welfare\n Department, the other to the Galactic Pharmaceutical Corporation.\n The Galactic ship was a freighter, ponderous and slow. It was here,\n Meek knew, to take on a cargo of radiation moss. But the other was a\n puzzler. Meek wrinkled his brow and blinked his eyes, trying to figure\n out what a welfare ship would be doing in this remote corner of the\n Solar System.\n\n\n Slowly and carefully, Meek clumped toward the squat repair shop. Once\n or twice he stumbled, hoping fervently he wouldn't get the feet of his\n cumbersome spacesuit all tangled up. The gravity was slight, next to\n non-existent, and one who wasn't used to it had to take things easy and\n remember where he was.\n\n\n Behind him Saturn filled a tenth of the sky, a yellow, lemon-tinged\n ball, streaked here and there with faint crimson lines and blotched\n with angry, bright green patches.\n\n\n To right and left glinted the whirling, twisting, tumbling rocks that\n made up the Inner Ring, while arcing above the horizon opposed to\n Saturn were the spangled glistening rainbows of the other rings.\n\n\n \"Like dewdrops in the black of space,\" Meek mumbled to himself. But he\n immediately felt ashamed of himself for growing poetic. This sector of\n space, he knew, was not in the least poetic. It was hard and savage and\n as he thought about that, he hitched up his gun belt and struck out\n with a firmer tread that almost upset him. After that, he tried to\n think of nothing except keeping his two feet under him.\n\n\n Reaching the repair shop's entrance lock, he braced himself solidly to\n keep his balance, reached out and pressed a buzzer. Swiftly the lock\n spun outward and a moment later Meek had passed through the entrance\n vault and stepped into the office.\n\n\n A dungareed mechanic sat tilted in a chair against a wall, feet on the\n desk, a greasy cap pushed back on his head.\n\n\n Meek stamped his feet gratefully, pleased at feeling Earth gravity\n under him again. He lifted the hinged helmet of his suit back on his\n shoulders.\n\n\n \"You are the gentleman who can fix things?\" he asked the mechanic.\nThe mechanic stared. Here was no hell-for-leather freighter pilot, no\n be-whiskered roamer of the outer orbits. Meek's hair was white and\n stuck out in uncombed tufts in a dozen directions. His skin was pale.\n His blue eyes looked watery behind the thick lenses that rode his nose.\n Even the bulky spacesuit failed to hide his stooped shoulders and\n slight frame.\n\n\n The mechanic said nothing.\n\n\n Meek tried again. \"I saw the sign. It said you could fix anything. So\n I....\"\n\n\n The mechanic shook himself.\n\n\n \"Sure,\" he agreed, still slightly dazed. \"Sure I can fix you up. What\n you got?\"\n\n\n He swung his feet off the desk.\n\n\n \"I ran into a swarm of pebbles,\" Meek confessed. \"Not much more than\n dust, really, but the screen couldn't stop it all.\"\n\n\n He fumbled his hands self-consciously. \"Awkward of me,\" he said.\n\n\n \"It happens to the best of them,\" the mechanic consoled. \"Saturn sweeps\n in clouds of the stuff. Thicker than hell when you reach the Rings.\n Lots of ships pull in with punctures. Won't take no time.\"\n\n\n Meek cleared his throat uneasily. \"I'm afraid it's more than a\n puncture. A pebble got into the instruments. Washed out some of them.\"\n\n\n The mechanic clucked sympathetically. \"You're lucky. Tough job to\n bring in a ship without all the instruments. Must have a honey of a\n navigator.\"\n\n\n \"I haven't got a navigator,\" Meek said, quietly.\n\n\n The mechanic stared at him, eyes popping. \"You mean you brought it in\n alone? No one with you?\"\n\n\n Meek gulped and nodded. \"Dead reckoning,\" he said.\n\n\n The mechanic glowed with sudden admiration. \"I don't know who you are,\n mister,\" he declared, \"but whoever you are, you're the best damn pilot\n that ever took to space.\"\n\n\n \"Really I'm not,\" said Meek. \"I haven't done much piloting, you see. Up\n until just a while ago, I never had left Earth. Bookkeeper for Lunar\n Exports.\"\n\n\n \"Bookkeeper!\" yelped the mechanic. \"How come a bookkeeper can handle a\n ship like that?\"\n\n\n \"I learned it,\" said Meek.\n\n\n \"You learned it?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, from a book. I saved my money and I studied. I always wanted to\n see the Solar System and here I am.\"\n\n\n Dazedly, the mechanic took off his greasy cap, laid it carefully on the\n desk, reached out for a spacesuit that hung from a wall hook.\n\n\n \"Afraid this job might take a while,\" he said. \"Especially if we have\n to wait for parts. Have to get them in from Titan City. Why don't you\n go over to the\nInn\n. Tell Moe I sent you. They'll treat you right.\"\n\n\n \"Thank you,\" said Meek, \"but there's something else I'm wondering\n about. There was another sign out there. Something about educated bugs.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, them,\" said the mechanic. \"They belong to Gus Hamilton. Maybe\n belong ain't the right word because they were on the rock before Gus\n took over. Anyhow, Gus is mighty proud of them, although at times they\n sure run him ragged. First year they almost drove him loopy trying to\n figure out what kind of game they were playing.\"\n\n\n \"Game?\" asked Meek, wondering if he was being hoaxed.\n\n\n \"Sure, game. Like checkers. Only it ain't. Not chess, neither. Even\n worse than that. Bugs dig themselves a batch of holes, then choose up\n sides and play for hours. About the time Gus would think he had it\n figured out, they'd change the rules and throw him off again.\"\n\n\n \"That doesn't make sense,\" protested Meek.\n\n\n \"Stranger,\" declared the mechanic, solemnly, \"there ain't nothing\n about them bugs that make sense. Gus' rock is the only one they're on.\n Gus thinks maybe the rock don't even belong to the Solar system. Thinks\n maybe it's a hunk of stone from some other solar system. Figures maybe\n it crossed space somehow and was captured by Saturn, sucked into the\n Ring. That would explain why it's the only one that has the bugs. They\n come along with it, see.\"\n\n\n \"This Gus Hamilton,\" said Meek. \"I'd like to see him. Where could I\n find him?\"\n\n\n \"Go over to the\nInn\nand wait around,\" advised the mechanic. \"He'll\n come in sooner or later. Drops around regular, except when his\n rheumatism bothers him, to pick up a bundle of papers. Subscribes to a\n daily paper, he does. Only man out here that does any reading. But all\n he reads is the sports section. Nuts about sports, Gus is.\"\nII\n\n\n Moe, bartender at Saturn Inn, leaned his elbow on the bar and braced\n his chin in an outspread palm. His face wore a melancholy, hang-dog\n look. Moe liked things fairly peaceable, but now he saw trouble coming\n in big batches.\n\n\n \"Lady,\" he declared mournfully, \"you sure picked yourself a job. The\n boys around here don't take to being uplifted and improved. They ain't\n worth it, either. Just ring-rats, that's all they are.\"\n\n\n Henrietta Perkins, representative for the public health and welfare\n department of the Solar government, shuddered at his suggestion of\n anything so low it didn't yearn for betterment.\n\n\n \"But those terrible feuds,\" she protested. \"Fighting just because they\n live in different parts of the Ring. It's natural they might feel some\n rivalry, but all this killing! Surely they don't enjoy getting killed.\"\n\n\n \"Sure they enjoy it,\" declared Moe. \"Not being killed, maybe ...\n although they're willing to take a chance on that. Not many of them\n get killed, in fact. Just a few that get sort of careless. But even if\n some of them are killed, you can't go messing around with that feud\n of theirs. If them boys out in sectors Twenty-Three and Thirty-Seven\n didn't have their feud they'd plain die of boredom. They just got to\n have somebody to fight with. They been fighting, off and on, for years.\"\n\n\n \"But they could fight with something besides guns,\" said the welfare\n lady, a-smirk with righteousness. \"That's why I'm here. To try to get\n them to turn their natural feelings of rivalry into less deadly and\n disturbing channels. Direct their energies into other activities.\"\n\n\n \"Like what?\" asked Moe, fearing the worst.\n\n\n \"Athletic events,\" said Miss Perkins.\n\n\n \"Tin shinny, maybe,\" suggested Moe, trying to be sarcastic.\n\n\n She missed the sarcasm. \"Or spelling contests,\" she said.\n\n\n \"Them fellow can't spell,\" insisted Moe.\n\n\n \"Games of some sort, then. Competitive games.\"\n\n\n \"Now you're talking,\" Moe enthused. \"They take to games. Seven-toed\n Pete with the deuces wild.\"\n\n\n The inner door of the entrance lock grated open and a spacesuited\n figure limped into the room. The spacesuit visor snapped up and a brush\n of grey whiskers spouted into view.\n\n\n It was Gus Hamilton.\n\n\n He glared at Moe. \"What in tarnation is all this foolishness?\" he\n demanded. \"Got your message, I did, and here I am. But it better be\n important.\"\n\n\n He hobbled to the bar. Moe reached for a bottle and shoved it toward\n him, keeping out of reach.\n\n\n \"Have some trouble?\" he asked, trying to be casual.\n\n\n \"Trouble! Hell, yes!\" blustered Gus. \"But I ain't the only one that's\n going to have trouble. Somebody sneaked over and stole the injector out\n of my space crate. Had to borrow Hank's to get over here. But I know\n who it was. There ain't but one other ring-rat got a rocket my injector\n will fit.\"\n\n\n \"Bud Craney,\" said Moe. It was no secret. Every man in the two sectors\n of the Ring knew just exactly what kind of spacecraft the other had.\n\n\n \"That's right,\" said Gus, \"and I'm fixing to go over into Thirty-seven\n and yank Bud up by the roots.\"\n\n\n He took a jolt of liquor. \"Yes, sir, I sure aim to crucify him.\"\n\n\n His eyes lighted on Miss Henrietta Perkins.\n\n\n \"Visitor?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"She's from the government,\" said Moe.\n\n\n \"Revenuer?\"\n\n\n \"Nope. From the welfare outfit. Aims to help you fellows out. Says\n there ain't no sense in you boys in Twenty-three all the time fighting\n with the gang from Thirty-seven.\"\n\n\n Gus stared in disbelief.\n\n\n Moe tried to be helpful. \"She wants you to play games.\"\n\n\n Gus strangled on his drink, clawed for air, wiped his eyes.\n\n\n \"So that's why you asked me over here. Another of your danged peace\n parleys. Come and talk things over, you said. So I came.\"\n\n\n \"There's something in what she says,\" defended Moe. \"You ring-rats been\n ripping up space for a long time now. Time you growed up and settled\n down. You're aiming on going over right now and pulverizing Bud. It\n won't do you any good.\"\n\n\n \"I'll get a heap of satisfaction out of it,\" insisted Gus. \"And,\n besides, I'll get my injector back. Might even take a few things off\n Bud's ship. Some of the parts on mine are wearing kind of thin.\"\n\n\n Gus took another drink, glowering at Miss Perkins.\n\n\n \"So the government sent you out to make us respectable,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Merely to help you, Mr. Hamilton,\" she declared. \"To turn your hatreds\n into healthy competition.\"\n\n\n \"Games, eh?\" said Gus. \"Maybe you got something, after all. Maybe we\n could fix up some kind of game....\"\n\n\n \"Forget it, Gus,\" warned Moe. \"If you're thinking of energy guns at\n fifty paces, it's out. Miss Perkins won't stand for anything like that.\"\nGus wiped his whiskers and looked hurt. \"Nothing of the sort,\" he\n denied. \"Dang it, you must think I ain't got no sportsmanship at all. I\n was thinking of a real sport. A game they play back on Earth and Mars.\n Read about it in my papers. Follow the teams, I do. Always wanted to\n see a game, but never did.\"\n\n\n Miss Perkins beamed. \"What game is it, Mr. Hamilton?\"\n\n\n \"Space polo,\" said Gus.\n\n\n \"Why, how wonderful,\" simpered Miss Perkins. \"And you boys have the\n spaceships to play it with.\"\n\n\n Moe looked alarmed. \"Miss Perkins,\" he warned, \"don't let him talk you\n into it.\"\n\n\n \"You shut your trap,\" snapped Gus. \"She wants us to play games, don't\n she. Well, polo is a game. A nice, respectable game. Played in the best\n society.\"\n\n\n \"It wouldn't be no nice, respectable game the way you fellows would\n play it,\" predicted Moe. \"It would turn into mass murder. Wouldn't be\n one of you who wouldn't be planning on getting even with someone else,\n once you got him in the open.\"\n\n\n Miss Perkins gasped. \"Why, I'm sure they wouldn't!\"\n\n\n \"Of course we wouldn't,\" declared Gus, solemn as an owl.\n\n\n \"And that ain't all,\" said Moe, warming to the subject. \"Those crates\n you guys got wouldn't last out the first chukker. Most of them would\n just naturally fall apart the first sharp turn they made. You can't\n play polo in ships tied up with haywire. Those broomsticks you\n ring-rats ride around on are so used to second rate fuel they'd split\n wide open first squirt of high test stuff you gave them.\"\n\n\n The inner locks grated open and a man stepped through into the room.\n\n\n \"You're prejudiced,\" Gus told Moe. \"You just don't like space polo,\n that is all. You ain't got no blueblood in you. We'll leave it up to\n this man here. We'll ask his opinion of it.\"\n\n\n The man flipped back his helmet, revealing a head thatched by white\n hair and dominated by a pair of outsize spectacles.\n\n\n \"My opinion, sir,\" said Oliver Meek, \"seldom amounts to much.\"\n\n\n \"All we want to know,\" Gus told him, \"is what you think of space polo.\"\n\n\n \"Space polo,\" declared Meek, \"is a noble game. It requires expert\n piloting, a fine sense of timing and....\"\n\n\n \"There, you see!\" whooped Gus, triumphantly.\n\n\n \"I saw a game once,\" Meek volunteered.\n\n\n \"Swell,\" bellowed Gus. \"We'll have you coach our team.\"\n\n\n \"But,\" protested Meek, \"but ... but.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Mr. Hamilton,\" exulted Miss Perkins, \"you are so wonderful. You\n think of everything.\"\n\n\n \"Hamilton!\" squeaked Meek.\n\n\n \"Sure,\" said Gus. \"Old Gus Hamilton. Grow the finest dog-gone radiation\n moss you ever clapped your eyes on.\"\n\n\n \"Then you're the gentleman who has bugs,\" said Meek.\n\n\n \"Now, look here,\" warned Gus, \"you watch what you say or I'll hang one\n on you.\"\n\n\n \"He means your rock bugs,\" Moe explained, hastily.\n\n\n \"Oh, them,\" said Gus.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" said Meek, \"I'm interested in them. I'd like to see them.\"\n\n\n \"See them,\" said Gus. \"Mister, you can have them if you want them.\n Drove me out of house and home, they did. They're dippy over metal. Any\n kind of metal, but alloys especially. Eat the stuff. They'll tromp you\n to death heading for a spaceship. Got so I had to move over to another\n rock to live. Tried to fight it out with them, but they whipped me pure\n and simple. Moved out and let them have the place after they started to\n eat my shack right out from underneath my feet.\"\n\n\n Meek looked crestfallen.\n\n\n \"Can't get near them, then,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Sure you can,\" said Gus. \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"Well, a spacesuit's metal and....\"\n\n\n \"Got that all fixed up,\" said Gus. \"You come back with me and I'll let\n you have a pair of stilts.\"\n\n\n \"Stilts?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah. Wooden stilts. Them danged fool bugs don't know what wood is.\n Seem to be scared of it, sort of. You can walk right among them if you\n want to, long as you're walking on the stilts.\"\n\n\n Meek gulped. He could imagine what stilt walking would be like in a\n place where gravity was no more than the faintest whisper.\nIII\n\n\n The bugs had dug a new set of holes, much after the manner of a Chinese\n checker board, and now were settling down into their respective places\n preparatory to the start of another game.\n\n\n For a mile or more across the flat surface of the rock that was Gus\n Hamilton's moss garden, ran a string of such game-boards, each one\n different, each one having served as the scene of a now-completed game.\n\n\n Oliver Meek cautiously wedged his stilts into two pitted pockets of\n rock, eased himself slowly and warily against the face of a knob of\n stone that jutted from the surface.\n\n\n Even in his youth, Meek remembered, he never had been any great shakes\n on stilts. Here, on this bucking, weaving rock, with slick surfaces and\n practically no gravity, a man had to be an expert to handle them. Meek\n knew now he was no expert. A half-dozen dents in his space armor was\n ample proof of that.\n\n\n Comfortably braced against the upjutting of stone, Meek dug into the\n pouch of his space gear, brought out a notebook and stylus. Flipping\n the pages, he stared, frowning, at the diagrams that covered them.\n\n\n None of the diagrams made sense. They showed the patterns of three\n other boards and the moves that had been made by the bugs in playing\n out the game. Apparently, in each case, the game had been finished.\n Which, Meek knew, should have meant that some solution had been\n reached, some point won, some advantage gained.\n\n\n But so far as Meek could see from study of the diagrams there was not\n even a purpose or a problem, let alone a solution or a point.\n\n\n The whole thing was squirrely. But, Meek told himself, it fitted in.\n The whole Saturnian system was wacky. The rings, for example. Debris of\n a moon smashed up by Saturn's pull? Sweepings of space? No one knew.\n\n\n Saturn itself, for that matter. A planet that kept Man at bay with\n deadly radiations. But radiations that, while they kept Man at a\n distance, at the same time served Man. For here, on the Inner Ring,\n where they had become so diluted that ordinary space armor filtered\n them out, they made possible the medical magic of the famous radiation\n moss.\n\n\n One of the few forms of plant life found in the cold of space, the\n moss was nurtured by those mysterious radiations. Planted elsewhere,\n on kindlier worlds, it wilted and refused to grow. The radiations had\n been analyzed, Meek knew, and reproduced under laboratory conditions,\n but there still was something missing, some vital, elusive factor that\n could not be analyzed. Under the artificial radiation, the moss still\n wilted and died.\n\n\n And because Earth needed the moss to cure a dozen maladies and because\n it would grow nowhere else but here on the Inner Ring, men squatted\n on the crazy swirl of spacial boulders that made up the ring. Men\n like Hamilton, living on rocks that bucked and heaved along their\n orbits like chips riding the crest of a raging flood. Men who endured\n loneliness, dared death when crunching orbits intersected or, when\n rickety spacecraft flared, who went mad with nothing to do, with the\n mockery of space before them.\n\n\n Meek shrugged his shoulders, almost upsetting himself.\nThe bugs had started the game and Meek craned forward cautiously,\n watching eagerly, stylus poised above the notebook.\n\n\n Crawling clumsily, the tiny insect-like creatures moved about, solemnly\n popping in and out of holes.\n\n\n If there were opposing sides ... and if it were a game, there'd have\n to be ... they didn't seem to alternate the moves. Although, Meek\n admitted, certain rules and conditions which he had failed to note or\n recognize, might determine the number and order of moves allowed each\n side.\n\n\n Suddenly there was confusion on the board. For a moment a half-dozen of\n the bugs raced madly about, as if seeking the proper hole to occupy.\n Then, as suddenly, all movement had ceased. And in another moment, they\n were on the move again, orderly again, but retracing their movements,\n going back several plays beyond the point of confusion.\n\n\n Just as one would do when one made a mistake working a mathematical\n problem ... going back to the point of error and going on again from\n there.\n\n\n \"Well, I'll be....\" Mr. Meek said.\n\n\n Meek stiffened and the stylus floated out of his hand, settled softly\n on the rock below.\n\n\n A mathematical problem!\n\n\n His breath gurgled in his throat.\n\n\n He knew it now! He should have known it all the time. But the mechanic\n had talked about the bugs playing games and so had Hamilton. That had\n thrown him off.\n\n\n Games! Those bugs weren't playing any game. They were solving\n mathematical equations!\n\n\n Meek leaned forward to watch, forgetting where he was. One of the\n stilts slipped out of position and Meek felt himself start to fall. He\n dropped the notebook and frantically clawed at empty space.\n\n\n The other stilt went, then, and Meek found himself floating slowly\n downward, gravity weak but inexorable. His struggle to retain his\n balance had flung him forward, away from the face of the rock and he\n was falling directly over the board on which the bugs were arrayed.\n\n\n He pawed and kicked at space, but still floated down, course unchanged.\n He struck and bounced, struck and bounced again.\n\n\n On the fourth bounce he managed to hook his fingers around a tiny\n projection of the surface. Fighting desperately, he regained his feet.\n\n\n Something scurried across the face of his helmet and he lifted his hand\n before him. It was covered with the bugs.\n\n\n Fumbling desperately, he snapped on the rocket motor of his suit, shot\n out into space, heading for the rock where the lights from the ports of\n Hamilton's shack blinked with the weaving of the rock.\n\n\n Oliver Meek shut his eyes and groaned.\n\n\n \"Gus will give me hell for this,\" he told himself.\nGus shook the small wooden box thoughtfully, listening to the frantic\n scurrying within it.\n\n\n \"By rights,\" he declared, judiciously, \"I should take this over and\n dump it in Bud's ship. Get even with him for swiping my injector.\"\n\n\n \"But you got the injector back,\" Meek pointed out.\n\n\n \"Oh, sure, I got it back,\" admitted Gus. \"But it wasn't orthodox, it\n wasn't. Just getting your property back ain't getting even. I never did\n have a chance to smack Bud in the snoot the way I should of smacked\n him. Moe talked me into it. He was the one that had the idea the\n welfare lady should go over and talk to Bud. She must of laid it on\n thick, too, about how we should settle down and behave ourselves and\n all that. Otherwise Bud never would have given her that injector.\"\n\n\n He shook his head dolefully. \"This here Ring ain't ever going to be\n the same again. If we don't watch out, we'll find ourselves being\n polite to one another.\"\n\n\n \"That would be awful,\" agreed Meek.\n\n\n \"Wouldn't it, though,\" declared Gus.\n\n\n Meek squinted his eyes and pounced on the floor, scrabbling on hands\n and knees after a scurrying thing that twinkled in the lamplight.\n\n\n \"Got him,\" yelped Meek, scooping the shining mote up in his hand.\n\n\n Gus inched the lid of the wooden box open. Meek rose and popped the bug\n inside.\n\n\n \"That makes twenty-eight of them,\" said Meek.\n\n\n \"I told you,\" Gus accused him, \"that we hadn't got them all. You better\n take another good look at your suit. The danged things burrow right\n into solid metal and pull the hole in after them, seems like. Sneakiest\n cusses in the whole dang system. Just like chiggers back on Earth.\"\n\n\n \"Chiggers,\" Meek told him, \"burrow into a person to lay eggs.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe these things do, too,\" Gus contended.\n\n\n The radio on the mantel blared a warning signal, automatically tuning\n in on one of the regular newscasts from Titan City out on Saturn's\n biggest moon.\n\n\n The syrupy, chamber of commerce voice of the announcer was shaky with\n excitement and pride.\n\n\n \"Next week,\" he said, \"the annual Martian-Earth football game will be\n played at Greater New York on Earth. But in the Earth's newspapers\n tonight another story has pushed even that famous classic of the\n sporting world down into secondary place.\"\n\n\n He paused and took a deep breath and his voice practically yodeled with\n delight.\n\n\n \"The sporting event, ladies and gentlemen, that is being talked up and\n down the streets of Earth tonight, is one that will be played here\n in our own Saturnian system. A space polo game. To be played by two\n unknown, pick-up, amateur teams down in the Inner Ring. Most of the\n men have never played polo before. Few if any of them have even seen a\n game. There may have been some of them who didn't, at first, know what\n it was.\n\n\n \"But they're going to play it. The men who ride those bucking rocks\n that make up the Inner Ring will go out into space in their rickety\n ships and fight it out. And ladies and gentlemen, when I say fight it\n out, I really mean fight it out. For the game, it seems, will be a sort\n of tournament, the final battle in a feud that has been going on in\n the Ring for years. No one knows what started the feud. It has gotten\n so it really doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is that when\n men from sector Twenty-three meet those from sector Thirty-seven, the\n feud is taken up again. But that is at an end now. In a few days the\n feud will be played out to its bitter end when the ships from the Inner\n Ring go out into space to play that most dangerous of all sports, space\n polo. For the outcome of that game will decide, forever, the supremacy\n of one of the two sectors.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Of the following descriptions, which best describe Meek?", "question_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO_1", "options": ["nosy and cautious", "confident and handsome", "funny and charismatic", "clumsy and inexperienced"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the overall tone of the article?", "question_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO_2", "options": ["Peaceful", "Scary", "Intense", "Lighthearted"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following does not happen in the article?", "question_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO_3", "options": ["Meek tries a new game", "Meek talks to a mechanic", "Meek is confused by new things", "Meek asks questions about space travel"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, who might enjoy this story the most?", "question_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO_4", "options": ["A sci-fi nerd who wants to learn more about the space travel of a character's universe", "A sci-fi nerd who enjoys learning about customs and games that take place in outer space", "A gaming nerd who loves to learn about new games they can play", "A sci-fi nerd who loves to learn about the government operations/structures of a story they're reading"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What would happen if Meek didn't meet Gus?", "question_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO_5", "options": ["He probably would not get the chance to play space polo", "He probably wouldn't have traveled in space", "He probably wouldn't want to stay on Saturn much longer", "He probably would have made more friends"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the narrative point of having Meek meet the mechanic?", "question_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO_6", "options": ["So Meek can fix the fleet of vehicles", "So Meek can make a good friend", "So Meek can learn about Gus and eventually meet him", "So Meek can meet some of the locals"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following is not a technology included in this story?", "question_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO_7", "options": ["Interstellar shipping infrastructure", "Games in outer space", "Highly advanced space travel", "Time warping"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a hidden talent that Meek has?", "question_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO_8", "options": ["he's able to juggle", "he's a really good chef", "he's good at record keeping", "he can fly aircrafts well"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are the bugs in this story special?", "question_unique_id": "63130_HY86PCEO_9", "options": ["they can speak multiple languages", "they're able to paralyze people", "they're able to sing", "they have a different ability that makes them special"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/1/3/63130//63130-h//63130-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63916", "set_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Conjurer of Venus", "year": 1964, "author": "Troy, Conan T.", "topic": "Adventure stories; Venus (Planet) -- Fiction; PS; Science fiction; Missing persons -- Fiction; Dreams -- Fiction", "article": "The CONJURER of VENUS\nBy CONAN T. TROY\nA world-famed Earth scientist had disappeared on Venus.\n \nWhen Johnson found him, he found too the secret to that\n \nglobe-shaking mystery—the fabulous Room of The Dreaming.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories November 1952.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe city dripped with rain. Crossing the street toward the dive,\n Johnson got rain in his eyes, his nose, and his ears. That was the way\n with the rain here. It came at you from all directions. There had been\n occasions when Johnson had thought the rain was falling straight up.\n Otherwise, how had the insides of his pants gotten wet?\n\n\n On Venus, everything came at you from all directions, it seemed to\n Johnson. Opening the door of the joint, it was noise instead of rain\n that came at him, the wild frantic beat of a Venusian rhumba, the\n notes pounding and jumping through the smoke and perfume clouded room.\n Feeling states came at him, intangible, but to his trained senses,\n perceptible emotional nuances of hate, love, fear, and rage. But mostly\n love. Since this place had been designed to excite the senses of both\n humans and Venusians, the love feelings were heavily tinged with\n straight sex. He sniffed at them, feeling them somewhere inside of him,\n aware of them but aware also that here was apprehension, and plain fear.\n\n\n Caldwell, sitting in a booth next to the door, glanced up as Johnson\n entered but neither Caldwell's facial expression or his eyes revealed\n that he had ever seen this human before. Nor did Johnson seem to\n recognize Caldwell.\n\n\n \"Is the mighty human wanting liquor, a woman or dreams?\" His voice\n was all soft syllables of liquid sound. The Venusian equivalent of a\n headwaiter was bowing to him.\n\n\n \"I'll have a tarmur to start,\" Johnson said. \"How are the dreams\n tonight?\"\n\n\n \"Ze vill be the most wonserful of all sonight. The great Unger hisself\n will be here to do ze dreaming. There is no ozzer one who has quite\n his touch at dreaming, mighty one.\" The headwaiter spread his hands\n in a gesture indicating ecstasy. \"It is my great regret that I must do\n ze work tonight instead of being wiz ze dreamers. Ah, ze great Unger\n hisself!\" The headwaiter kissed the tips of his fingers.\n\n\n \"Um,\" Johnson said. \"The great Unger!\" His voice expressed surprise,\n just the right amount of it. \"I'll have a tarmur to start but when does\n the dreaming commence?\"\n\n\n \"In one zonar or maybe less. Shall I make ze reservations for ze mighty\n one?\" As he was speaking, the headwaiter was deftly conducting Johnson\n to the bar.\n\n\n \"Not just yet,\" Johnson said. \"See me a little later.\"\n\n\n \"But certainly.\" The headwaiter was gone into the throng. Johnson was\n at the bar. Behind it, a Venusian was bowing to him. \"Tarmur,\" Johnson\n said. The green drink was set before him. He held it up to the light,\n admiring the slow rise of the tiny golden bubbles in it. To him,\n watching the bubbles rise was perhaps more important than drinking\n itself.\n\n\n \"Beautiful, aren't they?\" a soft voice said. He glanced to his right.\n A girl had slid into the stool beside him. She wore a green dress cut\n very low at the throat. Her skin had the pleasant tan recently on\n Earth. Her hair was a shade of abundant brown and her eyes were blue,\n the color of the skies of Earth. A necklace circled her throat and\n below the necklace ... Johnson felt his pulse quicken, for two reasons.\n Women such as this one had been quickening the pulse of men since the\n days of Adam. The second reason concerned her presence here in this\n place where no woman in her right mind ever came unescorted. Her eyes\n smiled up at him unafraid. Didn't she know there were men present here\n in this space port city who would snatch her bodily from the bar\n stool and carry her away for sleeping purposes? And Venusians were\n here who would cut her pretty throat for the sake of the necklace that\n circled it?\n\n\n \"They\nare\nbeautiful,\" he said, smiling.\n\n\n \"Thank you.\"\n\n\n \"I was referring to the bubbles.\"\n\n\n \"You were talking about my eyes,\" she answered, unperturbed.\n\n\n \"How did you know? I mean....\"\n\n\n \"I am very knowing,\" the girl said, smiling.\n\n\n \"Are you sufficiently knowing to be here?\"\n\n\n For an instant, as if doubt crossed her mind, the smile flickered. Then\n it came again, stronger. \"Aren't you here?\"\n\n\n Johnson choked as bubbles from the tarmur seemed to go suddenly up his\n nose. \"My dear child ...\" he sputtered.\n\n\n \"I am not a child,\" she answered with a firm sureness that left no\n doubt in his mind that she knew what she was saying. \"And my name is\n Vee Vee.\"\n\n\n \"Vee Vee? Um. That is....\"\n\n\n \"Don't you think it's a nice name?\"\n\n\n \"I certainly do. Probably the rest of it is even nicer.\"\n\n\n \"There is no more of it. Just Vee Vee. Like Topsy, I just grew.\"\n\"What the devil are you doing here on Venus and here in this place?\"\n\n\n \"Growing.\" The blue eyes were unafraid.\n\n\n Sombrely, Johnson regarded her. What was she doing here? Was she in\n the employ of the Venusians? If she was being planted on him, then\n his purpose here was suspected. He shrugged the thought aside. If his\n purpose here was suspected, there would be no point in planting a woman\n on him.\n\n\n There would only be the minor matter of slipping a knife into his back.\n\n\n In this city, as on all of Venus, humans died easily. No one questioned\n the motives of the killer.\n\n\n \"You look as if you were considering some very grave matter,\" Vee Vee\n said.\n\n\n \"Not any longer,\" he laughed.\n\n\n \"You have decided them?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Every last one of them?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, there might be one or two matters undecided somewhere, say out on\n the periphery of the galaxy. But we will solve them when we get to\n them.\" He waved vaguely toward the roof and the sky of space hidden\n behind the clouds that lay over the roof, glanced around as a man eased\n himself into an empty stool on his left. The man was Caldwell.\n\n\n \"Zlock!\" Caldwell said, to the bartender. \"Make it snappy. Gotta have\n zlock. Finest damn drink in the solar system.\" Caldwell's voice was\n thick, his tongue heavy. Johnson's eyes went back to the girl but out\n of the corner of them he watched Caldwell's hand lying on the bar. The\n fingers were beating a quick nervous tattoo on the yellow wood.\n\n\n \"I haven't seen him,\" Caldwell's fingers beat out their tattoo. \"But I\n think he is, or was, here.\"\n\n\n \"Um,\" Johnson said, his eyes on Vee Vee. \"How—\"\n\n\n \"Because that girl was asking for him,\" Caldwell's fingers answered.\n \"Watch that girl!\" Picking up the zlock, he lurched away from the bar.\n\n\n \"Your friend is not as drunk as he seems,\" Vee Vee said, watching\n Caldwell.\n\n\n \"My friend? Do you mean that drunk? I never saw him—\"\n\n\n \"Lying is one of the deadly sins.\" Her eyes twinkled at him. Under the\n merriment that danced in them there was ice. Johnson felt cold.\n\n\n \"The reservations for ze dreaming, great one?\" The headwaiter was\n bowing and scraping in front of him. \"The great one has decided, yes?\"\n\n\n \"The dreaming!\" Vee Vee looked suddenly alert. \"Of course. We must see\n the dreaming. Everyone wants to see the dreaming. We will go, won't we\n darling?\" She hooked her hand into Johnson's elbow.\n\n\n \"Certainly,\" Johnson said. The decision was made on the spur of the\n moment. That there was danger in it, he did not doubt. But there might\n be something else. And\nhe\nmight be there.\n\n\n \"Oh. But very good. Ze great Unger, you will love him!\" The headwaiter\n clutched the gold coins that Johnson extended, bowed himself out of\n sight.\n\n\n \"Say, I want to know more—\" Johnson began. His words were drowned in\n a blast of trumpets. The band that had been playing went into sudden\n silence. Waves of perfume began to flow into the place. The perfumes\n were blended, but one aroma was prominent among them, the sweet,\n cloying, soul-stirring perfume of the Dreamer.\n\n\n In the suddenly hushed place little sounds began to appear as Venusians\n and humans began to shift their feet and their bodies in anticipation\n of what was to happen.\n\n\n The trumpets flared again.\n\n\n On one side of the place, a big door began to swing slowly open. From\n beyond that slowly opening door came music, soft, muted strains that\n sounded like lutes from heaven.\n\n\n Vee Vee, her hand on Johnson's elbow, rose. Johnson stood up with\n her. He got the surprise of his life as her fingers clenched, digging\n into his muscles. Pain shot through his arm, paralyzing it and almost\n paralyzing him. He knew instantly that she was using the Karmer nerve\n block paralysis on him. His left hand moved with lightning speed, the\n tips of his fingers striking savagely against her shoulder.\n\n\n She gasped, her face whitened as pain shot through her in response to\n the thrust of his finger tips. Her hand that had been digging into his\n elbow lost its grip, dropped away and hung limp at her side. Grabbing\n it, she began to massage it.\n\n\n \"You—you—\" Hot anger and shock were in her voice. \"You're the first\n man I ever knew who could break the Karmer nerve paralysis.\"\n\n\n \"And you're the first woman who ever tried it on me.\"\n\n\n \"But—\"\n\n\n \"Shall we go watch the dreaming?\" He took the arm that still hung limp\n at her side and tucked it into his elbow.\n\n\n \"If you try to use the Karmer grip on me again I'll break your arm,\" he\n said. His voice was low but there was a wealth of meaning in it.\n\n\n \"I won't do it again,\" the girl said stoutly. \"I never make the same\n mistake twice.\"\n\n\n \"Good,\" Johnson said.\n\n\n \"The second time we break our victim's neck,\" Vee Vee said.\n\n\n \"What a sweet, charming child you—\"\n\n\n \"I told you before, I'm not a child.\"\n\n\n \"Child vampire,\" Johnson said. \"Let me finish my sentences before you\n interrupt.\"\n\n\n She was silent. A smile, struggling to appear on her face, seemed to\n say she held no malice. Her fingers tightened on Johnson's arm. He\n tensed, expecting the nerve block grip again. Instead with the tips of\n her fingers she gently patted his arm.\n\n\n \"There, there, darling, relax,\" she said. \"I know a better way to get\n you than by using the Karmer grip.\"\n\n\n \"What way?\"\n\n\n Her eyes sparkled. \"Eve's way,\" she answered.\n\n\n \"Um!\" Surprise sounded in his grunt. \"But apples don't grow on Venus.\"\n\n\n \"Eve's daughters don't use apples any more, darling. Come along.\"\n\n\n Moving toward the open door that led to the Room of the Dreaming,\n Johnson saw that Caldwell had risen and was following them. Caldwell's\n face was writhing in apprehensive agony and he was making warning\n signs. Johnson ignored them. With Vee Vee's fingers lightly patting his\n arm, they moved into the Room of the Dreaming.\nII\n\n\n It was a huge, semi-illumined room, with tier on tier of circling ramps\n rising up from an open space at the bottom. There ought to have been\n a stage there at the bottom, but there wasn't. Instead there was an\n open space, a mat, and a head rest. Up at the top of the circling ramps\n the room was in darkness, a fit hiding place for ghosts or Venusian\n werewolves. Pillows and a thick rug covered the circling ramps.\n\n\n The soul-quickening Perfume of the Dreamer was stronger here. The\n throbbing of the lutes was louder. It was Venusian music the lutes were\n playing. Human ears found it inharmonious at first, but as they became\n accustomed to it, they began to detect rhythms and melodies that human\n minds had not known existed. The room was pleasantly cool but it had\n the feel of dampness. A world that was rarely without pelting rain\n would have the feel of dampness in its dreaming rooms.\n\n\n The music playing strange harmonies in his ears, the perfume sending\n tingling feelings through his nose, Johnson entered the Room of the\n Dreamer. He suspected that other forces, unknown to him, were catching\n hold of his senses. He had been in dreaming rooms many times before but\n he had not grown accustomed to them. He wondered if any human ever\n did. A touch of chill always came over him as he crossed the threshold.\n In entering these places, it was as if some unknown nerve center\n inside the human organism was touched by something, some force, some\n radiation, some subtlety, that quite escaped radiation. He felt the\n coldness now.\n\n\n Vee Vee's fingers left off patting his arm.\n\n\n \"Do you feel it, darling?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"What is it?\"\n\n\n \"How would I know?\"\n\n\n \"Please!\" Her voice grew sharp. \"I think Johnny Johnson ought to know.\"\n\n\n \"Johnny! How do you know my name?\"\n\n\n \"Shouldn't I recognize one of Earth's foremost scientists, even if he\n is incognito on Venus?\" Her voice had a teasing quality in it.\n\n\n \"But—\"\n\n\n \"And who besides Johnny Johnson would recognize the Karmer nerve grip\n and be able to break it instantly?\"\n\n\n \"Hell—\"\n\n\n \"John Michael Johnson, known as Johnny to his friends, Earth's foremost\n expert in the field of electro-magnetic radiations within the human\n body!\" Her words were needles of icy fact, each one jabbing deeper and\n deeper into him.\n\n\n \"And how would I make certain you were Johnny Johnson, except by seeing\n if you could break the Karmer nerve grip? If you could break it, then\n there was no doubt who you were!\" Her words went on and on.\n\n\n \"Who are you?\" His words were blasts of sound.\n\n\n \"Please, darling, you are making a scene. I am sure this is the last\n thing you really want to do.\"\n\n\n He looked quickly around them. The Venusians and humans moving into\n this room seemed to be paying no attention to him. His gaze came back\n to her.\n\n\n Again she patted his arm. \"Relax, darling. Your secrets are safe with\n me.\"\n\n\n A gray color came up inside his soul. \"But—but—\" His voice was\n suddenly weak.\n\n\n The fingers on his arm were very gentle. \"No harm will come to you. Am\n I not with you?\"\n\n\n \"That's what I'm afraid of!\" he snapped at her. If he had had a\n choice, he might have drawn back. But with circumstances as they\n were—his life, Caldwell's life, possibly Vee Vee's life hung in the\n balance. Didn't she know that this was true? And as for Martin—But\n Caldwell had said that she had been asking about Martin. What\n connection did she have with that frantic human genius he sought here?\n\n\n Johnson felt his skin crawl. He moved toward a nest of cushions on\n a ramp, found a Venusian was beating him to them, deftly changed to\n another nest, found it. Vee Vee flowed to the floor on his right, moved\n cushions to make him more comfortable. She moved in an easy sort of way\n that was all flowing movement. He sat down. Someone bumped him on the\n left.\n\n\n \"Sorry, bud. Didn't mean to bump into you.\" Caldwell's voice was still\n thick and heavy. He sprawled to the floor on Johnson's left. Under\n the man's coat, Johnson caught a glimpse of a slight bulge, the zit\n gun hidden there. His left arm pressed against his own coat, feeling\n his own zit gun. Operating under gas pressure, throwing a charge of\n gas-driven corvel, the zit guns were not only almost noiseless in\n operation but they knocked out a human or a Venusian in a matter of\n seconds.\n\n\n True, the person they knocked unconscious would be all right the next\n day. For this reason, many people did not regard the zit guns as\n effective weapons, but Johnson had a fondness for them. The feel of the\n little weapon inside his coat sent a surge of comfort through him.\n\n\n The music picked up a beat, perfume seemed to flow even more freely\n through the air, the lights dimmed almost to darkness, a single bright\n spotlight appeared in the ceiling, casting a circle of brilliant\n illumination on the mat and the headrest at the bottom of the room. The\n curtain rose.\nUnger stood in the middle of the spot of light.\n\n\n Johnson felt his chest muscles contract, then relax. Vee Vee's fingers\n sought his arm, not to harm him but running to him for protection. He\n caught the flutter of her breathing. On his left, Caldwell stiffened\n and became a rock.\n\n\n Johnson had not seen Unger appear. One second the circle of light\n had been empty, the next second the Venusian, smiling with all the\n impassivity of a bland Buddha, was in the light. He weighed three\n hundred pounds if he weighed an ounce, he was clad in a long robe\n that would impede movement. He had appeared in the bright beam of the\n spotlight as if by magic.\n\n\n Vee Vee's fingers dug deeper into Johnson's arm. \"How—\"\n\n\n \"Shhh. Nobody knows.\"\n\n\n No human knew the answer to that trick. Unless perhaps Martin—\n\n\n Unger bowed. A little ripple of something that was not quite sound\n passed through the audience. Unger bowed again. He stretched himself\n flat on the mat, adjusted the rest to support his head, and apparently\n went to sleep. Johnson saw the Dreamer's eyes close, watched the chest\n take on the even, regular rhythm of sleep.\n\n\n The music changed, a slow dreamy tempo crept into it. Vee Vee's fingers\n dug at Johnson's arm as if they were trying to dig under his hide for\n protection. She was shivering. He reached for her hand, patted it. She\n drew closer to him.\n\n\n A few minutes earlier, she had been a very certain young woman, able\n to take care of herself, and handle anyone around her. Now she was\n suddenly uncertain, suddenly scared. In the Room of the Dreaming, she\n had suddenly become a frightened child looking for protection.\n\n\n \"Haven't you ever seen this before?\" he whispered.\n\n\n \"N—o.\" She shivered again. \"Oh, Johnny....\"\n\n\n Under the circle of light pouring down from the ceiling, the Dreamer\n lay motionless. Johnson found himself with the tendency to hold his\n breath. He was waiting, waiting, waiting—for what? The whole situation\n was senseless, silly, but under its apparent lack of coherence, he\n sensed a pattern. Perhaps the path to the far-off stars passed this\n way, through such scented and musical and impossible places as these\n Rooms of the Dreamers. Certainly Martin thought so. And Johnson himself\n was not prepared to disagree.\n\n\n Around him, he saw that the Venusians were already going ... going ...\n going.... Some of them were already gone. This was an old experience\n to them. They went rapidly. Humans went more slowly.\n\n\n The Venusian watchers had relaxed. They looked as if they were asleep,\n perhaps in a hypnotic trance, lulled into this state by the music\n and the perfume, and by something else. It was this something else\n that sent Johnson's thoughts pounding. The Venusians were like opium\n smokers. But he was not smoking opium. He was not in a hypnotic trance.\n He was wide awake and very much alert. He was ...\nwatching a space ship float in an endless void\n.\n\n\n As Unger had come into the spotlight, so the space ship had come into\n his vision, out of nowhere, out of nothingness. The room, the Dreamer,\n the sound of the music, the sweetness of the perfume, Vee Vee and\n Caldwell were gone. They were no longer in his reality. They were not\n in the range of his vision. It was as if they did not exist. Yet he\n knew they did exist, the memory of them, and of other things, was out\n on the periphery of his universe, perhaps of\nthe\nuniverse.\n\n\n All he saw was the space ship.\n\n\n It was a wonderful thing, perhaps the most beautiful sight he had seen\n in his life. At the sight of it, a deep glow sprang inside of him.\n\n\n Back when he had been a kid he had dreamed of flight to the far-off\n stars. He had made models of space ships. In a way, they had shaped his\n destiny, had made him what he was. They had brought him where he was\n this night, to the Dream Room of a Venusian tavern.\n\n\n The vision of the space ship floating in the void entranced and\n thrilled him. Something told him that this was real; that here and now\n he was making contact with a vision that belonged to time.\n\n\n He started to his feet. Fingers gripped his arm.\n\n\n \"Please, darling. You startled me. Don't move.\" Vee Vee's voice. Who\n was Vee Vee?\n\n\n The fingers dug into his arm. Pain came up in him. The space ship\n vanished. He looked with startled eyes at Vee Vee, at the Dream Room,\n at Unger, dreaming on the mat under the spot.\n\n\n \"You ... you startled me,\" Vee Vee whispered. She released the grip on\n his arm.\n\n\n \"But, didn't you see it?\"\n\n\n \"See what?\"\n\n\n \"The space ship!\"\n\n\n \"No. No.\" She seemed startled and a little terrified and half asleep.\n \"I ... I was watching something else. When you moved I broke contact\n with my dream.\"\n\n\n \"Your dream?\"\n\n\n He asked a question but she did not answer it. \"Sit down, darling,\n and look at your damned space ship.\" Her voice was a taut whisper of\n sound in the darkened room. Johnson settled down. A glance to his left\n told him that Caldwell was still sitting like a chunk of stone.... The\n Venusians were quiet. The music had shifted. A slow languorous beat\n of hidden drums filled the room. There was another sound present, a\n high-speed whirring. It was, somehow, a familiar sound, but Johnson had\n not heard it before in this place.\n\n\n He thought about the space ship he had seen.\n\n\n The vision would not come.\n\n\n He shook his head and tried again.\n\n\n Beside him, Vee Vee was silent, her face ecstatic, like the face of a\n woman in love.\n\n\n He tried again for the space ship.\n\n\n It would not come.\n\n\n Anger came up instead.\n\n\n Somehow he had the impression that the whirring sound which kept\n intruding into his consciousness was stopping the vision.\n\n\n So far as he could tell, he was the only one present who was not\n dreaming, who was not in a state of trance.\n\n\n His gaze went to Unger, the Dreamer....\n\n\n Cold flowed over him.\n\n\n Unger was slowly rising from the mat.\n\n\n The bland face and the body in the robe were slowly floating upward!\nIII\n\n\n An invisible force seemed to twitch at Johnson's skin, nipping it here\n and there with a multitude of tiny pinches, like invisible fleas biting\n him.\n\n\n \"This is it!\" a voice whispered in his mind. \"This is what you came to\n Venus to see. This ... this....\" The first voice went into silence.\n Another voice took its place.\n\n\n \"This is another damned vision!\" the second voice said. \"This ...\n this is something that is not real, that is not possible! No Venusian\n Dreamer, and no one else, can levitate, can defy the laws of gravity,\n can float upward toward the ceiling. Your damned eyes are tricking you!\"\n\n\n \"We are not tricking you!\" the eyes hotly insisted. \"It is happening.\n We are seeing it. We are reporting accurately to you. That Venusian\n Buddha is levitating. We, your eyes, do not lie to you!\"\n\n\n \"You lied about the space ship!\" the second voice said.\n\n\n \"We did not lie about the space ship!\" the eyes insisted. \"When our\n master saw that ship we were out of focus, we were not reporting. Some\n other sense, some other organ, may have lied, but we did not.\"\n\n\n \"I—\" Johnson whispered.\n\n\n \"I am your skin,\" another voice whispered. \"I am covered with sweat.\"\n\n\n \"We are your adrenals. We are pouring forth adrenalin.\"\n\n\n \"I am your pancreas. I am gearing you for action.\"\n\n\n \"I am your thyroid. I....\"\n\n\n A multitude of tiny voices seemed to whisper through him. It was as if\n the parts of his body had suddenly found voices and were reporting to\n him what they were doing. These were voices out of his training days\n when he had learned the names of these functions and how to use them.\n\n\n \"Be quiet!\" he said roughly.\n\n\n The little voices seemed to blend into a single chorus. \"Action,\n Master! Do something.\"\n\n\n \"Quiet!\" Johnson ordered.\n\n\n \"But hurry. We are excited.\"\n\n\n \"There is a time to be excited and a time to hurry. In this situation,\n if action is taken before the time for it—if that time ever comes—we\n can all die.\"\n\n\n \"Die?\" the chorus quavered.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Johnson said. \"Now be quiet. When the time goes we will all go\n together.\"\n\n\n The chorus went into muted silence. But just under the threshold the\n little voices were a multitude of tiny fretful pressures.\n\n\n \"I hear a whirring sound,\" his ears reported.\n\n\n \"Please!\" Johnson said.\n\n\n In the front of the room Unger floated ten feet above the floor.\n\n\n \"Master, we are not lying!\" his eyes repeated.\n\n\n \"I sweat....\" his skin began.\n\n\n \"Watch Unger!\" Johnson said.\n\n\n The Dreamer floated. If wires suspended him, Johnson could not see\n them. If any known force lifted him, Johnson could not detect that\n force. All he could say for certain was that Unger floated.\n\n\n \"Yaaah!\" The silence of a room was broken by the enraged scream of a\n Venusian being jarred out of his dream.\n\n\n \"Damn it!\" A human voice said.\n\n\n A wave as sharp as the tip of a sword swept through the room.\n\n\n Unger fell.\n\n\n He was ten feet high when he started to fall. With a bone-breaking,\n body-jarring thud, the Dreamer fell. Hard.\n\n\n There was a split second of startled silence in the Dreaming Room. The\n silence went. Voices came.\n\n\n \"Who did that?\"\n\n\n \"What happened?\"\n\n\n \"That human hidden there did it! He broke the Dreaming!\" Anger marked\n the voices. Although the language was Venusian, Johnson got most of the\n meaning. His hand dived under his coat for the gun holstered there. At\n his left, Caldwell was muttering thickly. \"What—what happened? I was\n back in the lab on Earth—\" Caldwell's voice held a plaintive note, as\n if some pleasant dream had been interrupted.\n\n\n On Johnson's right, Vee Vee seemed to flow to life. Her arms came up\n around his neck. He was instantly prepared for anything. Her lips came\n hungrily against his lips, pressed very hard, then gently drew away.\n\n\n \"What—\" he gasped.\n\n\n \"I had to do it now, darling,\" she answered. \"There may not be a later.\"\n\n\n Johnson had no time to ask her what she meant. Somewhere in the back\n of the room a human screamed. He jerked around. Back there a knot of\n Venusians were attacking a man.\n\n\n \"It's Martin!\" Caldwell shouted. \"He\nis\nhere!\"\n\n\n In Johnson's hand as he came to his feet the zit gun throbbed. He fired\n blindly at the mass of Venusians. Caldwell was firing too. The soft\n throb of the guns was not audible above the uproar from the crowd.\n Struck by the gas-driven corvel charges, Venusians were falling. But\n there seemed to be an endless number of them.\n\n\n \"Vee Vee?\" Johnson suddenly realized that she had disappeared. She had\n slid out of his sight.\n\n\n \"Vee Vee!\" Johnson's voice became a shout.\n\n\n \"To hell with the woman!\" Caldwell grunted. \"Martin's the important\n one.\"\n\n\n Zit, zit, zit, Caldwell moved toward the rear, shooting as he went.\n Johnson followed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Of the following options, which best describes Vee Vee before the entertainment?", "question_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6_1", "options": ["Confident and deliberate", "Deliberate and kind", "Brave and prepared", "Kind and generous"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, which best describes Johnson?", "question_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6_2", "options": ["Curious and oblivious", "Stern and bold", "Intelligent and prepared", "Handsome and talented"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, which technological advancement is NOT a part of this story?", "question_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6_3", "options": ["a technique that prevents someone from moving", "dream-based entertainment", "guns that make people pass out for an extended period", "knives containing paralyzing chemicals"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How would you describe the relationship between Vee Vee and Johnson?", "question_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6_4", "options": ["They have great respect for each other", "They've known each other for a long time", "They care about each other's wellbeing", "They're continuously hostile towards each other"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is it a bit dangerous for Vee Vee to be at the club?", "question_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6_5", "options": ["She's extremely naive", "She's fairly overconfident", "Women are in danger of being harmed by men at the club", "Vee Vee is special and many men fight over her"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Johnson do that ended up proving himself to Vee Vee?", "question_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6_6", "options": ["He knew how to defend himself from her", "He knew what he was getting into with the entertainment", "He knew the ins and outs of the club", "He knew facts about Venus that few humans do"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, who might enjoy reading this passage the most?", "question_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6_7", "options": ["A kid who loves reading about the other planets in our solar system", "A sci-fi nerd who loves reading about intergalactic stories of rebellion and uprisings", "A sci-fi nerd who enjoys twists and fast-paced storytelling", "A man who goes to night clubs and enjoys night life"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, which best summarizes this story?", "question_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6_8", "options": ["A man enters a club on Venus to enjoy himself at a special demonstration.", "A man enters a club on Venus to discuss business with a few colleagues.", "A man enters a club on Venus to research and participate in a strange form of entertainment.", "A man enters a club on Venus to flirt with a beautiful woman."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship between Caldwell and Johnson?", "question_unique_id": "63916_MPWP9IG6_9", "options": ["They're strangers", "They're coworkers", "They're new acquaintances", "They're old friends"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/9/1/63916//63916-h//63916-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63833", "set_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Jinx Ship to the Rescue", "year": 1962, "author": "Coppel, Alfred", "topic": "Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "Jinx Ship To The Rescue\nBy ALFRED COPPEL, JR.\nStand by for\nT.R.S. Aphrodite\n, butt of the Space\n\n Navy. She's got something terrific in her guts and only\n\n her ice-cold lady engineer can coax it out of her!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Winter 1948.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nBrevet Lieutenant Commander David Farragut Strykalski III of the\n Tellurian Wing, Combined Solarian Navies, stood ankle deep in the\n viscous mud of Venusport Base and surveyed his new command with a\n jaundiced eye. The hot, slimy, greenish rain that drenched Venusport\n for two-thirds of the 720-hour day had stopped at last, but now a\n miasmic fog was rising from the surrounding swampland, rolling across\n the mushy landing ramp toward the grounded spaceship. Visibility was\n dropping fast, and soon porto-sonar sets would have to be used to find\n the way about the surface Base. It was an ordinary day on Venus.\n\n\n Strike cursed Space Admiral Gorman and all his ancestors with a wealth\n of feeling. Then he motioned wearily to his companion, and together\n they sloshed through the mud toward the ancient monitor.\n\n\n The scaly bulk of the Tellurian Rocket Ship\nAphrodite\nloomed\n unhappily into the thick air above the two men as they reached the\n ventral valve. Strike raised reluctant eyes to the sloping flank of the\n fat spaceship.\n\n\n \"It looks,\" he commented bitterly, \"like a pregnant carp.\"\n\n\n Senior Lieutenant Coburn Whitley—\"Cob\" to his friends—nodded in\n agreement. \"That's our Lover-Girl ... old Aphrodisiac herself. The ship\n with the poison personality.\" Cob was the\nAphrodite's\nExecutive,\n and he had been with her a full year ... which was a record for Execs\n on the\nAphrodite\n. She generally sent them Earthside with nervous\n breakdowns in half that time.\n\n\n \"Tell me, Captain,\" continued Cob curiously, \"how does it happen\n that you of all people happened to draw this tub for a command? I\n thought....\"\n\n\n \"You know Gorman?\" queried Strykalski.\n\n\n Cob nodded. \"Oh, yes. Yes, indeed. Old Brass-bottom Gorman?\"\n\n\n \"The same.\"\n\n\n \"Well,\" Cob ran a hand over his chin speculatively, \"I know Gorman's\n a prize stinker ... but you were in command of the\nGanymede\n. And,\n after all, you come from an old service family and all that. How come\n this?\" He indicated the monitor expressively.\n\n\n Strike sighed. \"Well, now, Cob, I'll tell you. You'll be spacing with\n me and I guess you've a right to know the worst ... not that you\n wouldn't find it out anyway. I come from a long line of very sharp\n operators. Seven generations of officers and gentlemen. Lousy with\n tradition.\n\n\n \"The first David Farragut Strykalski, son of a sea-loving Polish\n immigrant, emerged from World War II a four-striper and Congressional\n Medal winner. Then came David Farragut Strykalski, Jr., and, in the\n abortive Atomic War that terrified the world in 1961, he won a United\n Nations Peace Citation. And then came David Farragut Strykalski III ...\n me.\n\n\n \"From such humble beginnings do great traditions grow. But something\n happened when I came into the picture. I don't fit with the rest of\n them. Call it luck or temperament or what have you.\n\n\n \"In the first place I seem to have an uncanny talent for saying the\n wrong thing to the wrong person. Gorman for example. And I take too\n much on my own initiative. Gorman doesn't like that. I lost the\nGanymede\nbecause I left my station where I was supposed to be running\n section-lines to take on a bunch of colonists I thought were in\n danger....\"\n\n\n \"The Procyon A people?\" asked Cob.\n\n\n \"So you've heard about it.\" Strike shook his head sadly. \"My tactical\n astrophysicist warned me that Procyon A might go nova. I left my\n routine post and loaded up on colonists.\" He shrugged. \"Wrong guess. No\n nova. I made an ass of myself and lost the\nGanymede\n. Gorman gave it\n to his former aide. I got this.\"\n\n\n Cob coughed slightly. \"I heard something about Ley City, too.\"\n\n\n \"Me again. The\nGanymede's\nwhole crew ended up in the Luna Base brig.\n We celebrated a bit too freely.\"\n\n\n Cob Whitley looked admiringly at his new Commander. \"That was the night\n after the\nGanymede\nbroke the record for the Centaurus B-Earth run,\n wasn't it? And then wasn't there something about....\"\n\n\n \"Canalopolis?\"\n\n\n Whitley nodded.\n\n\n \"That time I called the Martian Ambassador a spy. It was at a Tellurian\n Embassy Ball.\"\n\n\n \"I begin to see what you mean, Captain.\"\n\n\n \"Strike's the name, Cob.\"\n\n\n Whitley's smile was expansive. \"Strike, I think you're going to like\n our old tin pot here.\" He patted the\nAphrodite's\nnether belly\n affectionately. \"She's old ... but she's loose. And we're not likely to\n meet any Ambassadors or Admirals with her, either.\"\n\n\n Strykalski sighed, still thinking of his sleek\nGanymede\n. \"She'll\n carry the mail, I suppose. And that's about all that's expected of her.\"\n\n\n Cob shrugged philosophically. \"Better than tanking that stinking rocket\n fuel, anyway. Deep space?\"\n\n\n Strike shook his head. \"Venus-Mars.\"\n\n\n Cob scratched his chin speculatively. \"Perihelion run. Hot work.\"\n\n\n Strike was again looking at the spaceship's unprepossessing exterior.\n \"A surge-circuit monitor, so help me.\"\n\n\n Cob nodded agreement. \"The last of her class.\"\nAnd she was not an inspiring sight. The fantastically misnamed\nAphrodite\nwas a surge-circuit monitor of twenty guns built some ten\n years back in the period immediately preceding the Ionian Subjugation\n Incident. She had been designed primarily for atomics, with a\n surge-circuit set-up for interstellar flight. At least that was the\n planner's view. In those days, interstellar astrogation was in its\n formative stage, and at the time of the\nAphrodite's\nlaunching the\n surge-circuit was hailed as the very latest in space drives.\n\n\n Her designer, Harlan Hendricks, had been awarded a Legion of Merit\n for her, and every silver-braided admiral in the Fleet had dreamed\n of hoisting his flag on one of her class. There had been three. The\nArtemis\n, the\nAndromeda\n, and the prototype ... old Aphrodisiac. The\n three vessels had gone into action off Callisto after the Phobos Raid\n had set off hostilities between the Ionians and the Solarian Combine.\n\n\n All three were miserable failures.\n\n\n The eager officers commanding the three monitors had found the circuit\n too appealing to their hot little hands. They used it ... in some way,\n wrongly.\n\n\n The\nArtemis\nexploded. The\nAndromeda\nvanished in the general\n direction of Coma Berenices glowing white hot from the heat of a\n ruptured fission chamber and spewing gamma rays in all directions.\n And the\nAphrodite's\nstarboard tubes blew, causing her to spend her\n store of vicious energy spinning like a Fourth of July pinwheel under\n 20 gravities until all her interior fittings ... including crew were a\n tangled, pulpy mess within her pressure hull.\n\n\n The\nAphrodite\nwas refitted for space. And because it was an integral\n part of her design, the circuit was rebuilt ... and sealed. She became\n a workhorse, growing more cantankerous with each passing year. She\n carried personnel.... She trucked ores. She ferried skeeterboats and\n tanked rocket fuel. Now, she would carry the mail. She would lift from\n Venusport and jet to Canalopolis, Mars, without delay or variation.\n Regulations, tradition and Admiral Gorman of the Inner Planet Fleet\n required it. And it was now up to David Farragut Strykalski III to see\n to it that she did....\n\n\n The Officer of the Deck, a trim blonde girl in spotless greys saluted\n smartly as Strike and Cob stepped through the valve.\n\n\n Strike felt vaguely uncomfortable. He knew, of course, that at least a\n third of the personnel on board non-combat vessels of the Inner Planet\n Fleet was female, but he had never actually had women on board a ship\n of his own, and he felt quite certain that he preferred them elsewhere.\n\n\n Cob sensed his discomfort. \"That was Celia Graham, Strike. Ensign.\n Radar Officer. She's good, too.\"\n\n\n Strike shook his head. \"Don't like women in space. They make me\n uncomfortable.\"\n\n\n Cob shrugged. \"Celia's the only officer. But about a quarter of our\n ratings are women.\" He grinned maliciously. \"Equal rights, you know.\"\n\n\n \"No doubt,\" commented the other sourly. \"Is that why they named\n this ... ship 'Aphrodite'?\"\n\n\n Whitley saw fit to consider the question rhetorical and remained silent.\n\n\n Strike lowered his head to clear the arch of the flying-bridge\n bulkhead. Cob followed. He trailed his Captain through a jungle\n of chrome piping to the main control panels. Strike sank into an\n acceleration chair in front of the red DANGER seal on the surge-circuit\n rheostat.\n\n\n \"Looks like a drug-store fountain, doesn't it?\" commented Cob.\n\n\n Strykalski nodded sadly, thinking of the padded smoothness of the\nGanymede's\nflying-bridge. \"But she's home to us, anyway.\"\n\n\n The thick Venusian fog had closed in around the top levels of the ship,\n hugging the ports and cutting off all view of the field outside. Strike\n reached for the squawk-box control.\n\n\n \"Now hear this. All officer personnel will assemble in the flying\n bridge at 600 hours for Captain's briefing. Officer of the Deck will\n recall any enlisted personnel now on liberty....\"\n\n\n Whitley was on his feet, all the slackness gone from his manner.\n \"Orders, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"We can't do anything until the new Engineering Officer gets here.\n They're sending someone down from the\nAntigone\n, and I expect him by\n 600 hours. In the meantime you'll take over his part of the work. See\n to it that we are fueled and ready to lift ship by 602. Base will start\n loading the mail at 599:30. That's about all.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\" Whitley saluted and turned to go. At the bulkhead, he\n paused. \"Captain,\" he asked, \"Who is the new E/O to be?\"\n\n\n Strike stretched his long legs out on the steel deck. \"A Lieutenant\n Hendricks, I. V. Hendricks, is what the orders say.\"\n\n\n Cob thought hard for a moment and then shrugged his shoulders. \"I. V.\n Hendricks.\" He shook his head. \"Don't know him.\"\nThe other officers of the\nT.R.S. Aphrodite\nwere in conference with\n the Captain when Cob and the girl at his side reached the flying\n bridge. She was tall and dark-haired with regular features and pale\n blue eyes. She wore a service jumper with two silver stripes on the\n shoulder-straps, and even the shapeless garment could not hide the\n obvious trimness of her figure.\n\n\n Strike's back was toward the bulkhead, and he was addressing the others.\n\n\n \"... and that's about the story. We are to jet within 28,000,000 miles\n of Sol. Orbit is trans-Mercurian hyperbolic. With Mars in opposition,\n we have to make a perihelion run and it won't be pleasant. But I'm\n certain this old boiler can take it. I understand the old boy who\n designed her wasn't as incompetent as they say. But Space Regs are\n specific about mail runs. This is important to you, Evans. Your\n astrogation has to be accurate to within twenty-five miles plus or\n minus the shortest route. And there'll be no breaking orbit. Now be\n certain that the refrigeration units are checked, Mister Wilkins,\n especially in the hydroponic cells. Pure air is going to be important.\"\n\n\n \"That's about all there is to tell you. As soon as our rather\n leisurely E/O gets here, we can jet with Aunt Nelly's postcard.\" He\n nodded. \"That's the story. Lift ship in....\" He glanced at his wrist\n chronograph, \"... in an hour and five.\"\n\n\n The officers filed out and Cob Whitley stuck his head into the room.\n \"Captain?\"\n\n\n \"Come in, Cob.\" Strike's dark brows knit at the sight of the uniformed\n girl in the doorway.\n\n\n Cob's face was sober, but hidden amusement was kindling behind his\n eyes. \"Captain, may I present Lieutenant Hendricks? Lieutenant\nI-vy\nHendricks?\"\n\n\n Strike looked blankly at the girl.\n\n\n \"Our new E/O, Captain,\" prompted Whitley.\n\n\n \"Uh ... welcome aboard, Miss Hendricks,\" was all the Captain could find\n to say.\n\n\n The girl's eyes were cold and unfriendly. \"Thank you, Captain.\" Her\n voice was like cracked ice tinkling in a glass. \"If I may have your\n permission to inspect the drives, Captain, I\nmay\nbe able to\n convince you that the designer of this vessel was not ... as you seem\n to think ... a senile incompetent.\"\n\n\n Strike was perplexed, and he showed it. \"Why, certainly ... uh ...\n Miss ... but why should you be so....\"\n\n\n The girl's voice was even colder than before as she said, \"Harlan\n Hendricks, Captain, is my father.\"\nA week in space had convinced Strike that he commanded a jinx ship.\n Jetting sunward from Venus, the cantankerous\nAphrodite\nhad burned a\n steering tube through, and it had been necessary to go into free-fall\n while Jenkins, the Assistant E/O, and a damage control party effected\n repairs. When the power was again applied, Old Aphrodisiac was running\n ten hours behind schedule, and Strike and Evans, the Astrogation\n Officer, were sweating out the unforeseen changes introduced into the\n orbital calculations by the time spent in free-fall.\n\n\n The\nAphrodite\nrumbled on toward the orbit of Mercury....\n\n\n For all the tension between the occupants of the flying-bridge, Strike\n and Ivy Hendricks worked well together. And after a second week in\n space, a reluctant admiration was replacing the resentment between\n them. Ivy spent whatever time she could spare tinkering with her\n father's pet surge-circuit and Strike began to realize that there was\n little she did not know about spaceship engineering. Then, too, Ivy\n spent a lot of time at the controls, and Strike was forced to admit\n that he had never seen a finer job of piloting done by man or woman.\n\n\n And finally, Ivy hated old Brass-bottom Gorman even more than Strike\n did. She felt that Gorman had ruined her father's career, and she was\n dedicating her life to proving her father right and Brass-bottom wrong.\n There's nothing in the cosmos to nurture friendship like a common enemy.\n\n\n At 30,000,000 miles from the sun, the\nAphrodite's\nrefrigeration\n units could no longer keep the interior of the ship at a comfortable\n temperature. The thermometer stood at 102°F, the very metal of\n the ship's fittings hot to the touch. Uniforms were discarded,\n insignia of rank vanished. The men dressed in fiberglass shorts and\n spaceboots, sweat making their naked bodies gleam like copper under the\n sodium-vapor lights. The women in the crew added only light blouses to\n their shorts ... and suffered from extra clothing.\n\n\n Strike was in the observation blister forward, when Ensign Graham\n called to say that she had picked up a radar contact sunward. The\n IFF showed the pips to be the\nLachesis\nand the\nAtropos\n. The two\n dreadnaughts were engaged in coronary research patrol ... a purely\n routine business. But the thing that made Strike curse under his breath\n was Celia Graham's notation that the\nAtropos\ncarried none other than\n Space Admiral Horatio Gorman, Cominch Inplan.\n\n\n Strike thought it a pity that old Brass-bottom couldn't fall into\n Hell's hottest pit ... and he told Ivy so.\n\n\n And she agreed.\nOld Aphrodisiac had reached perihelion when it happened. The\n thermometer stood at 135° and tempers were snapping. Cob and Celia\n Graham had tangled about some minor point concerning Lover-Girl's\n weight and balance. Ivy went about her work on the bridge without\n speaking, and Strike made no attempt to brighten her sudden depression.\n Lieutenant Evans had punched Bayne, the Tactical Astrophysicist,\n in the eye for some disparaging remark about Southern California\n womanhood. The ratings were grumbling about the food....\n\n\n And then it happened.\n\n\n Cob was in the radio room when Sparks pulled the flimsy from the\n scrambler. It was a distress signal from the\nLachesis\n. The\nAtropos\nhad burst a fission chamber and was falling into the sun.\n Radiation made a transfer of personnel impossible, and the\nAtropos\nskeeterboats didn't have the power to pull away from the looming star.\n The\nLachesis\nhad a line on the sister dreadnaught and was valiantly\n trying to pull the heavy vessel to safety, but even the thundering\n power of the\nLachesis'\nmighty drive wasn't enough to break Sol's\n deathgrip on the battleship.\n\n\n A fleet of souped-up space-tugs was on its way from Luna and Venusport,\n but they could not possibly arrive on time. And it was doubtful that\n even the tugs had the necessary power to drag the crippled\nAtropos\naway from a fiery end.\n\n\n Cob snatched the flimsy from Sparks' hands and galloped for the\n flying-bridge. He burst in and waved the message excitedly in front of\n Strykalski's face.\n\n\n \"Have a look at this! Ye gods and little catfish! Read it!\"\n\n\n \"Well, dammit, hold it still so I can!\" snapped Strike. He read the\n message and passed it to Ivy Hendricks with a shake of his head.\n\n\n She read it through and looked up exultantly. \"This is\nit\n! This is\n the chance I've been praying for, Strike!\"\n\n\n He returned her gaze sourly. \"For Gorman to fall into the sun? I recall\n I said something of the sort myself, but there are other men on those\n ships. And, if I know Captain Varni on the\nLachesis\n, he won't let go\n that line even if he fries himself.\"\n\n\n Ivy's eyes snapped angrily. \"That's not what I meant, and you know it!\n I mean this!\" She touched the red-sealed surge-circuit rheostat.\n\n\n \"That's very nice, Lieutenant,\" commented Cob drily. \"And I know that\n you've been very busy adjusting that gismo. But I seem to recall that\n the last time that circuit was uncorked everyone aboard became part of\n the woodwork ... very messily, too.\"\n\n\n \"Let me understand you, Ivy,\" said Strike in a flat voice. \"What you\n are suggesting is that I risk my ship and the lives of all of us trying\n to pull old Gorman's fat out of the fire with a drive that's blown\n skyhigh three times out of three. Very neat.\"\n\n\n There were tears bright in Ivy Hendricks' eyes and she sounded\n desperate. \"But we can save those ships! We can, I\nknow\nwe can! My\n father designed this ship! I know every rivet of her! Those idiots off\n Callisto didn't know what they were doing. These ships needed specially\n trained men. Father told them that! And I'm trained! I can take her in\n and save those ships!\" Her expression turned to one of disgust. \"Or are\n you afraid?\"\n\n\n \"Frankly, Ivy, I haven't enough sense to be afraid. But are you so\n certain that we can pull this off? If I make a mistake this time ...\n it'll be the last. For all of us.\"\n\n\n \"We can do it,\" said Ivy Hendricks simply.\n\n\n Strike turned to Cob. \"What do you say, Cob? Shall we make it hotter in\n here?\"\n\n\n Whitley shrugged. \"If you say so, Strike. It's good enough for me.\"\n\n\n Celia Graham left the bridge shaking her head. \"We'll all be dead soon.\n And me so young and pretty.\"\n\n\n Strike turned to the squawk-box. \"Evans!\"\n\n\n \"Evans here,\" came the reply.\n\n\n \"Have Sparks get a DF fix on the\nAtropos\nand hold it. We'll home on\n their carrier wave. They're in trouble and we're going after them. Plot\n the course.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain.\"\n\n\n Strike turned to Cob. \"Have the gun-crews stand by to relieve the\n black-gang in the tube rooms. It's going to get hotter than the hinges\n of hell down there and we'll have to shorten shifts.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir!\" Cob saluted and was gone.\n\n\n Strike returned to the squawk-box. \"Radar!\"\n\n\n \"Graham here,\" replied Celia from her station.\n\n\n \"Get a radar fix on the\nLachesis\nand hold it. Send your dope up to\n Evans and tell him to send us a range estimate.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain,\" the girl replied crisply.\n\n\n \"Gun deck!\"\n\n\n \"Gun deck here, sir,\" came a feminine voice.\n\n\n \"Have number two starboard torpedo tube loaded with a fish and a spool\n of cable. Be ready to let fly on short notice ... any range.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir!\" The girl switched off.\n\n\n \"And now you, Miss Hendricks.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain?\" Her voice was low.\n\n\n \"Take over Control ... and Ivy....\"\n\n\n \"Yes?\"\n\n\n \"Don't kill us off.\" He smiled down at her.\n\n\n She nodded silently and took her place at the control panel. Smoothly\n she turned old Aphrodisiac's nose sunward....\nLashed together with a length of unbreakable beryllium steel cable,\n the\nLachesis\nand the\nAtropos\nfell helplessly toward the sun. The\n frantic flame that lashed out from the\nLachesis'\ntube was fading, her\n fission chambers fusing under the terrific heat of splitting atoms.\n Still she tried. She could not desert her sister ship, nor could she\n save her. Already the two ships had fallen to within 18,000,000 miles\n of the sun's terrifying atmosphere of glowing gases. The prominences\n that spouted spaceward seemed like great fiery tentacles reaching for\n the trapped men on board the warships. The atmospheric guiding fins,\n the gun-turrets and other protuberances on both ships were beginning\n to melt under the fierce radiance. Only the huge refrigeration plants\n on the vessels made life within them possible. And, even so, men were\n dying.\n\n\n Swiftly, the fat, ungainly shape of old Aphrodisiac drew near. In her\n flying-bridge, Strike and Ivy Hendricks watched the stricken ships in\n the darkened viewport.\n\n\n The temperature stood at 140° and the air was bitter with the smell\n of hot metal. Ivy's blouse clung to her body, soaked through with\n perspiration. Sweat ran from her hair into her eyes and she gasped\n for breath in the oven hot compartment. Strike watched her with\n apprehension.\n\n\n Carefully, Ivy circled the two warships. From the starboard tube on\n the gun-deck, a homing rocket leapt toward the\nAtropos\n. It plunged\n straight and true, spilling cable as it flew. It slammed up against\n the hull, and stuck there, fast to the battleship's flank. Quickly,\n a robocrane drew it within the ship and the cable was made secure.\n Like cosmic replicas of the ancient South American \"bolas,\" the three\n spacecraft whirled in space ... and all three began that sunward plunge\n together.\nThey were diving into the sun.\nThe heat in the\nAphrodite's\nbridge was unbearable. The thermometer\n showed 145° and it seemed to Strike that Hell must be cool by\n comparison.\n\n\n Ivy fought her reeling senses and the bucking ship as the slack came\n out of the cable. Blackness was flickering at the edges of her field\n of vision. She could scarcely lift her hand to the red-sealed circuit\n rheostat. Shudderingly, she made the effort ... and failed. Conscious,\n but too spent to move, she collapsed over the blistering hot instrument\n panel.\n\n\n \"\nIvy!\n\" Strike was beside her, cradling her head in his arm.\n\n\n \"I ... I ... can't make it ... Strike. You'll ... have to run ... the\n show ... after ... all.\"\n\n\n Strike laid her gently in an acceleration chair and turned toward the\n control panel. His head was throbbing painfully as he broke the seal on\n the surge-circuit.\n\n\n Slowly he turned the rheostat. Relays chattered. From deep within\n old Lover-Girl's vitals came a low whine. He fed more power into the\n circuit. Cadmium rods slipped into lead sheaths decks below in the\n tube-rooms. The whining rose in pitch. The spinning of the ships in\n space slowed. Stopped. With painful deliberation, they swung into line.\n\n\n More power. The whine changed to a shriek. A banshee wail.\n\n\n Cob's voice came through the squawk-box, soberly. \"Strike, Celia's\n fainted down here. We can't take much more of this heat.\"\n\n\n \"We're trying, Cob!\" shouted Strike over the whine of the circuit. The\n gauges showed the accumulators full. \"\nNow!\n\" He spun the rheostat to\n the stops, and black space burst over his brain....\n\n\n The last thing he remembered was a voice. It sounded like Bayne's. And\n it was shouting. \"We're moving 'em! We're pulling away! We're....\" And\n that was all.\n\n\n The space-tug\nScylla\nfound them.\n\n\n The three ships ...\nAtropos\n,\nLachesis\n, and old Aphrodisiac ...\n lashed together and drifting in space. Every man and woman aboard out\n cold from the acceleration, and\nAphrodite's\ntanks bone dry. But they\n were a safe 80,000,000 miles from Sol....\nThe orchestra was subdued, the officer's club softly lighted. Cob\n leaned his elbow on the bar and bent to inspect the blue ribbon of the\n Spatial Cross on Strike's chest. Then he inspected his own and nodded\n with tipsy satisfaction. He stared out at the Martian night beyond the\n broad windows and back again at Strike. His frown was puzzled.\n\n\n \"All right,\" said Strike, setting down his glass. \"What's on your mind,\n Cob? Something's eating you.\"\n\n\n Whitley nodded very slowly. He took a long pull at his highball. \"I\n understand that you goofballed your chances of getting the\nGanymede\nback when Gorman spoke his piece to you....\"\n\n\n \"All I said to him....\"\n\n\n \"I know. I know what you said ... and it won't bear repeating. But\n you're not fooling me. You've fallen for old Lover-Girl and you don't\n want to leave her. Ver-ry commendable. Loyal! Stout fellah! But what\n about Ivy?\"\n\n\n \"Ivy?\"\n\n\n Cob looked away. \"I thought that you and she ... well, I thought that\n when we got back ... well....\"\n\n\n Strike shook his head. \"She's gone to the Bureau of Ships with a\n designing job.\"\n\n\n Cob waved an expressive arm in the air. \"But dammit, man, I thought....\"\n\n\n \"The answer is\nno\n. Ivy's a nice girl ... but....\" He paused and\n sighed. \"Since she was promoted to her father's old rank ... well....\"\n He shrugged. \"Who wants a wife that ranks you?\"\n\n\n \"Never thought of that,\" mused Cob. For a long while he was silent;\n then he pulled out an address book and leafed through until he came to\n the pages marked \"Canalopolis, Mars.\"\n\n\n And he was gratified to see that Lieutenant Commander David Farragut\n Strykalski III was doing the same.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Of the following choices, which best describes Ivy?", "question_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J_1", "options": ["beautiful and feminine", "independent and determined", "confident and myopic", "quiet and smart"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following options, which best describes the Captain?", "question_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J_2", "options": ["stubborn and competent", "funny and kind", "handsome and witty", "open-minded and bold"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Does it seem like there's a romantic component to Ivy and the Captain's relationship?", "question_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J_3", "options": ["Yes, they both show feelings for each other but they have yet to enter a relationship", "Possible, Ivy has feelings for him by the end but it remains unclear", "No, they're just coworkers and nothing more is addressed beyond that", "Possibly, the Captain has feelings for her by the end but it remains unclear"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is interesting about the Aphrodite?", "question_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J_4", "options": ["It's a brand new ship", "It's an old ship and its predecessors were retired after having successful runs as ships", "It's an old ship and its predecessors previously failed in their missions", "It's an old ship that doesn't work but contains a plethora of interesting data"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How would you describe the author's style throughout the passage?", "question_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J_5", "options": ["He uses lots of historical data from previous science fiction universes", "He uses lots of technical details and technologies to immerse the reader in the lore", "He uses lots of humor to make the technical elements more entertaining", "He uses lots of descriptions of the ship's surroundings to show the peaceful voyages the Aphrodite goes on"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How would you describe the changes in tone throughout the passage?", "question_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J_6", "options": ["The story remains relatively calm except for the climax", "The story has an early climax with a big reveal, but the majority of the story is nerdy and filled with space-travel details", "The story is intense at the beginning but calms by the end", "The story remains fast-paced and stressful throughout"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why might a person not be the hugest fan of Captain?", "question_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J_7", "options": ["He's actively racist with regard to his crew members", "He's actively sexist with regard to his crew members", "He's overconfident at times and can be rude", "He doesn't listen to his crew most of the time"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, who might want to read this passage the most?", "question_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J_8", "options": ["A sci-fi fan who likes romance-heavy stories", "A sci-fi fan who likes suspense and watching friendships grow", "A fan of fantasy-adventure stories", "A fan of adventure stories where the protagonist has to fit in with a new group"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Do you think this story has a happy ending?", "question_unique_id": "63833_NVJ3AK4J_9", "options": ["No, the Captain really wants to date Ivy but it doesn't seem like it's gonna happen", "Yes, the Captain is successful and he's dating Ivy", "Yes, they were successful on their mission", "For the most part, they succeeded on their mission but the Captain and Ivy aren't together"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/8/3/63833//63833-h//63833-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20002", "set_unique_id": "20002_V4XXHZGB", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Slate", "title": "The Absurdity of Family Love", "year": "1997", "author": "Robert Wright", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "The Absurdity of Family Love \n\n         Don't get me wrong. Kids are great. I have some, and I adore them. Every Christmas I become a slave to my camcorder. Tiny tots with their eyes all aglow, and so on. But now that the radiance of the yuletide season is fading, it's time to confront a sobering scientific truth: The more you think about the biology of parental love, the more absurd it seems. The same goes for love of kin generally--brothers, sisters, nephews, etc. \n\n         Readers familiar with my obsessions may fear that this column is just another attempt to spoil everyone's fun, to replace the beautiful mystery of life with ugly Darwinian clarity. Actually, what I hope to dispel isn't pre-Darwinian mystery, but a kind of post-Darwinian mysticism, a confused exaltation of genetic affinity. You see the confusion when biological parents invoke \"blood ties\" to reclaim a child from adoptive parents. You see it when opponents of cross-ethnic adoption argue--as in a New York Times op-ed piece a few months ago--that we must respect \"the strength of the biological and cultural ties that Indian tribes can offer their own children.\" In a sense, you see it every year around Christmas, when people pay lip service to the idea of universal brotherhood but believe in their hearts that it's ridiculous, that truly loving people to whom you aren't related violates some law of nature. \n\n         Thanks to the biologist William Hamilton, it is now clear why people feel brotherly love in the literal sense--and sisterly love, maternal love, and paternal love. It's all due to the operation of \"kin selection\" during evolution. A greatly oversimplified textbook example: Two million years ago, two hominids, Loveless Bob and Loving Bob, stand on two different riverbanks, in identical situations. Each is watching his full sibling Bill drown. Loving Bob has a gene inclining him to love his brother and thus jump in the raging river, even though his risk of dying is 10 percent. Loveless Bob has no such gene, and thus stands on the bank wondering whether his brother's corpse will attract any large, edible fish. Which Bob's genes will survive the Darwinian reaper--genes for love or for cold indifference? \n\n         Love triumphs. True, there's a one-in-10 chance that the love gene will sink along with Loving Bob. But consider the upside. There's a one-in-two chance that Bob's full sibling Bill has the same gene and, thus, that a successful rescue mission will pluck an otherwise doomed copy of the gene from the dustbin of history. Do the math, and you'll see that, over time, Loving Bobs send more genes to posterity than Loveless Bobs. As love genes spread at the expense of indifference genes, Loveless Bobs slowly become extinct. Die, selfish scum! Genes for sibling love come to permeate our species--as, in fact, they now do. So do genes for maternal love and paternal love. All brought to you by kin selection. \n\n         As modern Darwinism gets popularized, the basic idea of kin selection is approaching the status of conventional wisdom. So are some attendant misconceptions. \n\n          Misconception No. 1: Genes are smart . People often assume that kin-selected altruism is foolproof; that a gene can magically sense copies of itself in other organisms--or, at least, can somehow ascertain with perfect accuracy which organisms are close relatives of its own host organism and thus may carry copies of itself. In truth, genes aren't omniscient, or even sentient. If kin-selected genes are going to induce love of kin, they'll have to determine who qualifies as kin in some pedestrian and probably fallible way. \n\n         For example: Back when Loving Bob was 6 years old, if his mother was nursing some infant named Bill and sleeping by its side every night, there's a very good chance that Bill was Bob's sibling. So a gene disposing Bob to love children whom he sees his mother nurturing could spread through the population until everyone obeys the same rule. But this rule would misfire now and then, when a mother is for some reason nurturing a non-offspring. It's just that the misfiring wouldn't happen often enough to greatly dilute the genetic math favoring the gene's proliferation. \n\n         Little is known about which rules for identifying kin--\"kin-recognition mechanisms\"--do operate in our species. But clearly, they are fallible. Even mothers, who you'd think would have a damn good idea of who their offspring are, can in principle be fooled. When hospital staffers for some reason handed hours-old Kimberly Mays to a mother who was not hers, the mother's kin-recognition mechanisms--a k a bonding processes--kicked in. This woman wound up loving Kimberly like a daughter (though the mother died two years later, so that Kimberly was reared mostly by a stepmother). Meanwhile, Kimberly's genetic mother, having missed years of bonding, can never love Kimberly quite like her own child, even though Kimberly is her own child. Because genetic relationship per se doesn't matter. \n\n         This irrelevance of genes is why surrogate motherhood is so messy. Even when, thanks to in vitro fertilization, the birth mother is unrelated to the fetus she carries, she will, upon giving birth, fall in love with the child. During evolution, after all, having a baby come out of your womb was reasonably strong evidence of kinship. The power of the hormones that govern this bonding is familiar to anyone who has watched a woman clutch her just-born child and turn into a love-drunk cuddle-bunny. (When my wife went through this magic moment, I briefly considered snatching the baby and replacing it with an 8-by-10 glossy of myself.) This hormonal power was also observed by researchers studying oxytocin, a hormone that's present in human and other mammalian mothers at birth. The researchers put it in a syringe and used it to shatter all previous records for cuddling among laboratory rats. By the way, the synthetic version of oxytocin, Pitocin, is what doctors use to induce labor. \n\n          Misconception No. 2: People are smart--or, at least, they are smart Darwinian robots . Darwinian theory does posit that homo sapiens were \"designed\" to get their genes into the next generation, but not that they were designed to do so consciously and rationally. As surrogate mothers have proved, knowing that you've given no genes to an infant needn't stop the bonding process. Thus, \"kin- recognition mechanism\" is a doubly misleading term--first because, as we've seen, the mechanism doesn't positively identify kin, but just identifies factors correlated with kinship; and second because people aren't really aware of doing the identifying. We don't think, \"There's strong evidence that she's my daughter, so I adore her.\" More like, \"God but my daughter's adorable.\" \n\n         It is good news for adoptive parents that neither genetic relationship nor conscious awareness of genetic relationship is a prerequisite for love. Still, it is bad news that maternal bonding begins with hormones at birth. It is also bad news that breast-feeding, which adoptive mothers usually can't do, releases the bonding hormone oxytocin. Then again, there is no reason in principle that adoptive parents couldn't take Pitocin once a day for synthetic bonding sessions. (Oxytocin seems to be part of the bonding formula in men, too.) Besides, some genetic mothers aren't conscious at birth, and many don't breast-feed, yet they all nonetheless wind up loving their kids. As the many successful adoptive parents know, lots of the magic moments that add up to durabonding have nothing to do with birthing or breast-feeding. (Tiny tots, with their eyes all aglow ... ) \n\n         Anyway, the main point is that when genetic parents give up a child for adoption and have second thoughts weeks, months, or even years later, their appeals to blood ties should count for zilch. Their love of their child, and their child's love of them, depends not on genetic math but on a long and complex chain of bonding, much of which they have already voluntarily missed out on. \n\n         Similarly, the idea that Native American babies, or black babies, or whatever, have some mystical genetic affinity with their \"own\" kind is silly. Obviously, cross-ethnic adoption is dicey. It draws sidelong glances and playground taunts, and it may give the adopted child an identity crisis. But it won't do this because of some ancestral memory in the genes. As attitudes change, cross-ethnic adoption will get easier; and as cross-ethnic adoption gets more common, attitudes will change. (There are other pop-genetics arguments against cross-ethnic adoption, and against adoption in general. One is that genes influence personality so powerfully that mixing unrelated siblings is like mixing oil and water. This idea is .) \n\n          Misconception No. 3: Our genes, though perhaps not real smart, aren't downright stupid . Here we come, at last, to the true absurdity of familial love. As we've seen, the genes that sponsor it flourished by encouraging an \"altruism\" that was, in fact, self-serving at the genetic level (the inexorable triumph of Loving Bob's genes). As we've also seen, these genes can be \"fooled\" into encouraging altruism toward non-kin, altruism that presumably is not self-serving at the genetic level. Still, you might argue, in defense of your genes, they usually direct familial love toward genuine kin, and thus usually succeed in being efficiently selfish. Wrong! When genes confine altruism to kin, and deny it to needy non-kin, they are in fact failing spectacularly to be efficiently selfish. Because nowadays, copies of these genes do reside in non-kin--in your next-door neighbor and, for that matter, your worst enemy. After all, the Darwinian logic behind love of kin was so relentless that these genes permeated our entire species! Loveless Bob is extinct, remember? \n\n         You can be forgiven for doubting my logic. People like me, in writing about kin selection, often talk about full siblings sharing \"half their genes,\" implying that nonrelatives share none. But in truth, you share virtually all your genes with any randomly selected homo sapien on any continent. What people like me really mean is that full siblings share half of any genes that are newly minted--genes that have recently arisen and on which natural selection is just starting to pass judgment. Genes that natural selection fully endorsed long ago--the basic genes for hunger, for lust, for familial love--are in everyone. So genes that originally flourished by bestowing love with discerning selfishness--by discriminating against people not containing copies of themselves--now, having spread through the species, discriminate against people who do contain copies! You may doubt that natural selection, a process that supposedly maximizes genetic selfishness, could fail so abjectly to do so. But it's true. . \n\n         So this past holiday season, as you rushed to buy presents for your kids or your siblings or your nieces or nephews, impelled by \"selfishly\" altruistic genes, you were operating under flawed Darwinian logic. These \"selfish\" genes could do just as much for themselves by encouraging you to instead spend your money on the beggar outside the department store. In fact, they could do more, since the beggar is closer to perishing than your relatives are. (Also, the beggar might buy something useful such as food, as opposed to a hair-eating Cabbage Patch doll.) But our genes are too stupid to so deftly serve their own welfare. \n\n         Not that I attach much weight to what is and isn't \"good\" from the standpoint of genetic self-interest. As virtually all ethical philosophers who have pondered the matter agree, it doesn't make sense to model our moral values on the logic of nature anyway; to infer ought from is --to commit the \"naturalistic fallacy\"--only leads to moral confusion. For example, you might, after observing the natural behavior of praying mantises, be tempted to conclude that it is morally good for females to eat males after sex--and this, I submit, would be a repugnant and wrongheaded doctrine! (Though slightly less repugnant than the idea of eating males before the sex.) \n\n         Most people implicitly recognize the naturalistic fallacy in some contexts. They sense that there's something visceral about, say, malice; yet they'll tell you (when not in its thrall) that they disapprove of it. It's obvious, they believe, that the natural strength of hatred is not a good thing. They're right. What is equally right, but a bit less obvious, is that the \"natural\" limits of love aren't necessarily good either. And, on close inspection, these limits turn out not to be all that rigorously \"natural\" anyway.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does the author think it'll be tougher to connect with a daughter that you start raising when she's five years old?", "question_unique_id": "20002_V4XXHZGB_1", "options": ["The daughter didn't spend time with you (nor did you with her) when she was little, so lots of bonding time was lost.", "The daughter might be apprehensive about spending extended time with an unknown adult.", "The daughter will be confused as to why you began parenting at that point rather than earlier.", "The daughter might not consider you a proper biological match for a parent."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a conclusion the author would want you to draw from the article?", "question_unique_id": "20002_V4XXHZGB_2", "options": ["If you're a mother who just adopted a child you'll naturally produce excess amounts of oxytocin.", "Oxytocin and Pitocin are functionally similar but, but one of the two would naturally be produced by a biological mother.", "If you're a biological parent you should supplement your naturally produced oxytocin with Pitocin.", "If you adopted a child it would be bad for you to take Pitocin in their developmental stages."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to the article, why might it be a good idea scientifically to spend money and resources on homeless individuals rather than on gifts for your children?", "question_unique_id": "20002_V4XXHZGB_3", "options": ["You will undergo a mood boost from helping homeless individuals that is greater than the mood boost you'd experience from giving gifts to your children.", "You're closely enough related to other non-familial humans that shared genes should not be the reasoning to give gifts to your kids over helping the homeless.", "Your children will undergo a mood boost if they're old enough to understand the value of distributing resources to those who need it.", "Your children will unconditionally love you regardless of what stimulation/gifts you provide, so those resources could be easily reallocated."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the overall tone of this article? Are there any changes in tone over the course of the article?", "question_unique_id": "20002_V4XXHZGB_4", "options": ["The overall tone is conversational, with the occasional funny moment or comedic example.", "The overall tone is academic, with very few tonal changes (if any).", "The overall tone is academic, with a few emotional sections to evoke pathos.", "The overall tone is calm, with only a few tonal changes when the author tries to drive home a point."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is NOT a scientific concept that is directly addressed in the article?", "question_unique_id": "20002_V4XXHZGB_5", "options": ["The extent to which DNA is shared between family members and non-family members.", "The scientific differences between bonding with a biological or an adopted child.", "How geographic and cultural differences impact family-raising strategies and bonding styles.", "The cultural and scientific debate around raising a parent raising an adopted child with a different race/ethnicity from their own."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is it that loving family members like siblings can lead to individual biological success?", "question_unique_id": "20002_V4XXHZGB_6", "options": ["We want to see them succeed, so we experience chemical shifts when we see that they're happy.", "If we help them survive tough experiences, we'll learn to not make those mistakes (increasing our biological odds of procreating and being evolutionarily successful).", "If we help them succeed biologically, when they have kids they pass on DNA that matches some of our own.", "Biologically speaking, we share in the successes the exact same way that our siblings do because of genetic similarity."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Of the following options, who might enjoy reading this the most?", "question_unique_id": "20002_V4XXHZGB_7", "options": ["A creationist who wants to prove that evolution isn't real through the ways in which adopted and biological children are treated differently.", "A potential parent deciding between adopting a child and having a biological child.", "A preteen who's adopted and wants to learn more about the differences between parenting of adopted and biological children. ", "A high schooler interested in learning more about family dynamics and the chemical/evolutionary processes with regard to parenting."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Of the following places, where would you most likely find a similar article to be available?", "question_unique_id": "20002_V4XXHZGB_8", "options": ["The start of a high school paper about evolution and parenting", "A pamphlet in a family therapist's office", "A science textbook for eighth graders", "An article in a popular newspaper's science section"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20006", "set_unique_id": "20006_RQF3XP3W", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Slate", "title": "The Flytrap Blame Game", "year": "1998", "author": "David Plotz", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "The Flytrap Blame Game \n\n         One of the few truths universally acknowledged about Flytrap is that presidential secretary Betty Currie deserves our sympathy: an honest, loyal civil servant dragooned into a scandal she had nothing to do with. \n\n         But does Currie deserve such sanctification? After all, she knew Clinton's history when she took her job then enabled Clinton's sleaziness anyway. She stood by while Clinton cuckolded his wife and perhaps even helped him commit obstruction of justice. And did she protest? Not as far as we have heard. Did she quit on principle? No. Currie may not be Flytrap's chief malefactor, but nor is she the saintly innocent that the American public believes her to be. \n\n         The Currie case suggests that Flytrap needs a moral recalibration. \n\n         Monica Lewinsky, for example, has fantastically low approval ratings, much lower than Clinton's. One poll I saw pegged her favorability rating at 5 percent (even Newt Gingrich manages at least 25 percent). Now, Monica certainly isn't the heroine of Flytrap. She did seduce a married man, damage the presidency for the sake of casual sex, lie frequently and insouciantly, and blab her \"secret\" affair to anyone who'd listen. But she was also sexually exploited by her older, sleazy boss; had her reputation smeared by Clinton's lackeys; and was betrayed by her \"friend\" Linda Tripp. She hardly deserves such universal contempt. \n\n         Others besides Currie have benefited from the public's excessive generosity. George Stephanopoulos has become a white knight of Flytrap, the former Clinton aide who had the courage to turn on his boss. And bravo to George for chastising Clinton! But it smacks of hypocrisy for Stephanopoulos to \"discover\" in 1998 that Clinton is a lying, womanizing dog. He has, after all known this since 1992. Back then Stephanopoulos himself helped quell bimbo eruptions and parroted Clinton's lying denials. He has never shouldered blame for those deceptions. (Mickey Kaus first noted Stephanopoulos' unbearable sanctimony in this \"Chatterbox\" item in January.) And while loyalty isn't a universal good, it was opportunistic for Stephanopoulos to betray Clinton just at the moment Clinton's stock was about to plunge. \n\n          (Sometimes, of course, the public's rating is dead on target. Linda Tripp's allies--a group that includes her lawyers, Kenneth Starr, the Goldberg family, and absolutely no one else as far as I can tell--have tried repeatedly to improve her sorry public image. Jonah Goldberg tried right here in Slate. No sale.) \n\n          Below is                    Slate                's entire scorecard, which ranks 31 of Flytrap's key players: The scale runs from -10 to +10. Anything less than zero means the player is a net miscreant. Anything above zero rates a sympathy card. (This is not, of course, an exact science. How, for example, do we judge Ann Lewis compared to other last ditch Clinton defenders? Lewis is said to be more outraged by Clinton's misbehavior than The Guys in the White House. Yet Lewis didn't quit in disgust. Is her outrage a plus or a minus if she doesn't act on it? You decide.) \n\n         The Scorecard \n\n                         Bill Clinton (The public's rating: -6 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         To recapitulate \n\n         a) Had an adulterous affair with a young intern. \n\n         b) Lied about it to everyone . \n\n         c) Probably perjured himself. \n\n         d) Perhaps obstructed justice. \n\n         e) Entangled allies and aides in his web of deceit. \n\n         f) Humiliated his wife and daughter. \n\n         g) Did not have the grace to apologize to Lewinsky. \n\n         h)Tried to shift the blame for his failures onto his accusers. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Had his private life exposed to the world in a way no one's should be. \n\n         b) Has been persecuted by enemies who won't be satisfied until he is destroyed. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating-- He never asked for our sympathy, and he doesn't deserve it: -9              \n\n                         Dick Morris (The public's rating: -6 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Encouraged Clinton's most deplorable habits: lying and polling. (When Clinton revealed his adultery to Morris, the political consultant immediately took a poll to see how America would respond to a Clinton admission. When the results suggested Americans would be angry if Clinton had perjured himself, Morris encouraged Clinton to deny the affair.) \n\n         b) Further sullied the Clintons with a revolting comment suggesting that Clinton cheats because Hillary is a lesbian. \n\n         c) Not even loyal enough to keep his mouth shut. \n\n         Pluses: I cannot think of any. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: -7              \n\n                         Linda Tripp (The public's rating: -7 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Betrayed her \"friend.\" \n\n         b) Obsessively nosed into the private lives of others. \n\n         c) Tried to score a book deal off sex gossip and other people's distress. \n\n         d) Tattletale. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Whistleblower (see d under Minuses): risked humiliation to expose something she believed was wrong. \n\n         b) Smeared mercilessly by Clinton allies, the media. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -7              \n\n                         James Carville (The public's rating: -1 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Has known about Clinton's woman problem since 1992. \n\n         b) Happily parroted Clinton's denial despite knowing that Clinton was a deceitful womanizer. \n\n         c) Has not expressed the slightest chagrin or disappointment since Clinton's apology. \n\n         d) Has not retreated from vicious attacks on Starr, despite evidence of Clinton's lies. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Perfectly loyal. \n\n         b) Consistent in attacks against Starr. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -5              \n\n                         Bruce Lindsey (The public's rating : To be determined ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Not yet known what he did to protect Clinton from the Lewinsky affair. Early signs suggest he knew a lot and helped clean it up. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Unquestionably loyal to his boss. \n\n         b) Silent. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating-- Not enough information to make a clean guess: Approx -5              \n\n                         Vernon Jordan (The public's rating: +3 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) May have known and must have suspected that Lewinsky was a mistress (given that he and Clinton are confidants, it's hard to believe that Jordan was totally in the dark about her). \n\n         b) Protected too readily by Washington establishment. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) May have helped Lewinsky simply because he's bighearted and generous not because she was the president's lover. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: -4              \n\n                         Sidney Blumenthal (The public's rating: -3 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun the president's denial for months without bothering to check if it was true. \n\n         b) Pushed for Clinton to be aggressive rather than contrite during his speech. \n\n         c) Trumpeted Clinton's denial but has not expressed chagrin now that Clinton has admitted his lies. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Consistent in belief that Starr is an ideologue and that the sex charges are political. \n\n         b) Loyal. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -3              \n\n                         Lanny Davis (The public's rating: -1 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun the president's denial for months without bothering to check if it was true. \n\n         b) Said for seven months that we'd have to \"wait and see.\" Then, when Clinton finally admitted his lies, Davis was hardly embarrassed or critical of the president. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Loyalty to old boss. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -3              \n\n                         George Stephanopoulos (The public's rating: +4 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Hypocritical for him to \"discover\" in 1998 that Clinton is a lying dog. After all, he knew that Clinton was a lech in 1992 and helped cover it up. Yet he has never shouldered responsibility for the lies Clinton told then. \n\n         b) Disloyal to turn on old boss as viciously as he has in past few weeks. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Had courage to turn on old boss and criticize his moral lapses. \n\n         b) Urged Clinton to be fully contrite. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Betty Currie (The public's rating: +8 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Abetted adulterous affair. \n\n         b) May have abetted obstruction of justice. \n\n         c) Knew what she was getting into when she took the job so can't be excused on grounds of naiveté. \n\n         d) Did not quit on principle. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Reputation for honesty. \n\n         b) Probably dragooned into cover-up against her will. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Paul Begala (The public's rating: 0 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun the president's denial for months without bothering to check if it was true. \n\n         b) Did not quit on principle after Clinton admitted lies. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Urged president to be contrite and wrote excellent, sufficiently apologetic speech. \n\n         b) Loyal. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Rahm Emanuel (The public's rating: -1 ) \n\n         Minuses and Pluses: \n\n         Same as Begala (except Emanuel didn't write the speech). \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Ann Lewis (The public's rating: -1 ) \n\n         Minuses and Pluses: \n\n         Same as Emanuel, except Lewis seems more morally outraged with Clinton than other White House aides. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Monica Lewinsky (The public's rating: -9 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Seduced a married man. \n\n         b) Damaged and endangered the presidency for the sake of casual sex. \n\n         c) Has lied frequently. \n\n         d) Is a capable adult, not--as her advocates claim--a naive child, defenseless against the president's wiles. \n\n         e) Protected herself with immunity when she needed to, even though her testimony would do enormous harm to Clinton and the nation. \n\n         f) Blabbed her \"secret\" affair to lots of people. (So, while she was dragged into the scandal against her will, it was her own loquaciousness that made the dragging possible.) \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Sexually exploited by her older boss. \n\n         b) Had her reputation smeared by Clintonistas and the media. \n\n         c) Betrayed by Linda Tripp. \n\n         d) Dragged into the scandal against her will. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -2              \n\n                         Mike McCurry (The public's rating: +2 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun and spun and spun the president's denial for months without bothering to check if it was true. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Was clearly dismayed by the entire scandal and his role in it. \n\n         b) Is quitting the administration (though not, apparently, on principle). \n\n         c) Loyal. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: -1              \n\n                         David Kendall (The public's rating: 0 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Relied on iffy legalisms to help Clinton escape trouble. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Relying on iffy legalisms to help Clinton escape trouble is his job. He's a lawyer. \n\n         b) Admirably reticent, compared to Robert Bennett. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -1              \n\n                         The Rev. Jesse Jackson (The public's rating: +2 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Revealed Clinton family troubles immediately after his pastoral visit. \n\n         b) Parlayed pastoral visit into a week of self-promotion. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Graciously counseled a political rival in time of need. \n\n         b) Did not demand any political compensation in exchange. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: -1              \n\n                         Rep. Bob Barr, R-Ga. (The public's rating: -5 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Unapologetically vicious, partisan, and unforgiving in his impeachment quest. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Consistent throughout the scandal: He has been pushing impeachment since before Monica materialized in January. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: 0              \n\n                         Kenneth Starr (The public's rating: -9 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Seems merciless toward Clinton. \n\n         b) Has pursued investigation into Clinton's private life with more zeal than seems appropriate. \n\n         c) Is too willing to provoke constitutional standoffs for the sake of his investigation, seems indifferent to the dignity of the presidency. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Was right about Clinton and Lewinsky. \n\n         b) Is compelled by law to investigate diligently and forcefully. \n\n         c) Has been patient with the stonewalling, deceiving Clinton. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         Paula Jones (The public's rating: -5 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Brought a legally dubious, gold-digging lawsuit. \n\n         b) Resisted a settlement that would have saved the nation much embarrassment. \n\n         c) Happily became a tool for Clinton's enemies. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Is vindicated because Clinton probably did it. \n\n         b) Forced Clinton's lechery out in the open. \n\n         c) Persisted in the face of ridicule and humiliation. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         The American People (The public's rating: +7 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Hypocritically claim to despise scandal, follow it breathlessly, then blame the media for obsessing over it. \n\n         b) Are secretly fascinated by the sleaziness of it. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Magnanimous toward the president. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         The Media (The public's rating: -8 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) No sense of proportionality. Coverage is wretchedly excessive even when it shouldn't be. \n\n         b) Endlessly self-involved. How many stories have you seen about the media and the scandal? \n\n         c) Unforgiving. The media want the scandal to continue, hence won't ever be satisfied that Clinton has suffered enough. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Worked hard to break a very important story and investigated the hell out of it. \n\n         b) Unfairly savaged by hypocritical American people (see above). \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         Leon Panetta (The public's rating: +1 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Slightly disloyal to old boss. \n\n         b) May have known about Clinton's extracurricular activities, yet turned a blind eye. \n\n         c) On television too much. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Urged Clinton early on to come clean. \n\n         b) Had good sense to leave the White House before corrupting himself. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +1              \n\n                         Hillary Clinton (The public's rating: +4 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Knew what a lech he was, yet always protected him. \n\n         b) May have always known truth about Lewinsky, yet still lied to protect Bill. \n\n         c) Chose aggressive, political strategy over contrition. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Lied to, betrayed, and cuckolded by husband. \n\n         b) Personally humiliated. \n\n         c) May have disgraced her own good name by echoing his denials on the Today show. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating-- She made a Faustian bargain, but you still feel sorry for Faust: +2              \n\n                         Al Gore (The public's rating: +3 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Did not (apparently) urge the president to come clean with American people. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Stayed loyal. \n\n         b) Did not take advantage of scandal to burnish his own image. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +2              \n\n                         Kathleen Willey (The public's rating: 0 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Was in it for the money (told her story partly in order to land a book contract). \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Seems to have told story honestly and forthrightly. \n\n         b) Reluctantly dragged into scandal. \n\n         c) Was victimized by Clinton. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +2              \n\n                         The Clinton Cabinet (The public's rating: +2 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Spun his denials without digging for the truth. \n\n         b) Did not quit on principle. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Were conscripted unwillingly into scandal defense. (Unlike political aides such as Begala, who are expected to do political dirty work, the Cabinet members are public servants who should be kept away from such sleaze.) \n\n         b) Were lied to by Clinton. \n\n         c) Loyal. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +3              \n\n                         Erskine Bowles (The public's rating: Doesn't care ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         a) Refused to involve himself in the critical issue of the presidency. \n\n         b) Stood aside while White House was shanghaied by lawyers. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Stayed utterly silent about the scandal, clearly disgusted by it all. \n\n         b) Kept the rest of the administration focused on policy, thus preventing total executive paralysis. \n\n         c) Did not lie or spin for the president. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +4              \n\n                         Rep. Henry Hyde, R-Ill. (The public's rating: +4 ) \n\n         Minuses: \n\n         There are none yet. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) (Mostly) kept his mouth shut and prevented the House Judiciary Committee from jumping the gun on impeachment. \n\n          \n\n                               Slate                 rating: +4              \n\n                         Secret Service (The public's rating: +8 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         a) Fought Starr subpoena too hard because it considers itself the Praetorian Guard. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Dragged unwillingly into scandal by Clinton (unlike Currie or his political aides, the Secret Service agents have no choice about being near the president). \n\n         b) Testified honestly but unwillingly, as they should. \n\n         c) Did not leak. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +5              \n\n                         Chelsea Clinton (The public's rating: +10 ) \n\n          Minuses: \n\n         There are none. \n\n         Pluses: \n\n         a) Humiliated and embarrassed by her father's misbehavior. \n\n         b) Had family problems paraded before the world in a way they should not be. \n\n         c) Has been endlessly psychologized by the media. \n\n         d) Had her summer vacation ruined. \n\n                                            Slate                 rating: +10              \n\n         More Flytrap ...\n", "questions": [{"question": "What are the general trends in the listing order of individuals/groups ranked in this article?", "question_unique_id": "20006_RQF3XP3W_1", "options": ["Individuals/groups were usually ranked from least prominent to most prominent.", "Individuals/groups were usually ranked from most liked to least liked.", "Individuals/groups were usually ranked from least liked to most liked.", "Individuals/groups were usually ranked from most prominent to least prominent."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Slate morally consider the implications of being loyal or unloyal to Clinton in the scandal?", "question_unique_id": "20006_RQF3XP3W_2", "options": ["It's consistently seen as a bad thing.", "It's consistently seen as a good thing.", "Loyalty or lack thereof isn't referenced enough within the article to make any generalizations.", "Loyalty or lack thereof can be seen as a plus or minus depending on the context."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Off the following options, which best summarizes this article?", "question_unique_id": "20006_RQF3XP3W_3", "options": ["Slate attempts to consider how Monica Lewinsky, specifically, was disproportionately shamed compared to others involved in the unravelling of the scandal.", "Slate attempts to dig through the scandal and address information that was not previously considered.", "Slate attempts to address the various ways in which the public views those involved in the scandal, and speculates upon whether those views are accurate.", "Slate attempts to prove that Bill Clinton, specifically, was disproportionately shamed compared to others involved in the unravelling of the scandal."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Within the article, which of the following is NOT a minus that's listed in the ratings?", "question_unique_id": "20006_RQF3XP3W_4", "options": ["Wrote two memoirs for profit as a result of the scandal.", "Failed to investigate Clinton's refutation of the scandal.", "Used the scandal as leverage to attempt impeachment.", "Discussed the scandal with others."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Within the article, which of the following is NOT a plus that's listed in the ratings?", "question_unique_id": "20006_RQF3XP3W_5", "options": ["Deserved compensation but it was not given it.", "Did not spread the scandal.", "Asked Clinton to be open about his wrongdoings.", "Was humiliated."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How would you compare and contrast the overall assessments of Hillary Clinton and Chelsea Clinton?", "question_unique_id": "20006_RQF3XP3W_6", "options": ["Neither of them were severely harmed by Bill Clinton's actions, and they were equally treated with mild amounts of sympathy.", "Both of them were viewed with some sympathy, but Chelsea was deemed more deserving of sympathy because Hillary was somewhat complicit.", "Chelsea Clinton had more of a choice to remove herself from the limelight because she was just the daughter.", "Both were clearly harmed by Bill Clinton's actions, and they were equally treated with sympathy."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to Slate's ratings, which of the orderings below correctly goes from most reprehensible to least reprehensible?", "question_unique_id": "20006_RQF3XP3W_7", "options": ["Bob Barr, James Carville, Lanny Davis, Erskine Bowles", "James Carville, Lanny Davis, Bob Barr, Erskine Bowles", "Lanny Davis, Bob Barr, James Carville, Erskine Bowles", "Bob Barr, Erskine Bowles, James Carville, Lanny Davis"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "According to Slate's ratings, which of the orderings below correctly goes from least reprehensible to most reprehensible?", "question_unique_id": "20006_RQF3XP3W_8", "options": ["Hillary Clinton, David Kendall, The Clinton Cabinet, Secret Service", "Secret Service, The Clinton Cabinet, Hillary Clinton, David Kendall", "Secret Service, Hillary Clinton, The Clinton Cabinet, David Kendall", "Hillary Clinton, Secret Service, David Kendall, The Clinton Cabinet"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "63936", "set_unique_id": "63936_1LRE5TR5", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1007", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Strange Exodus", "year": 1953, "author": "Abernathy, Robert", "topic": "Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; Parasites -- Fiction; Short stories; Earth (Planet) -- Fiction; PS", "article": "STRANGE EXODUS\nBy ROBERT ABERNATHY\nGigantic, mindless, the Monsters had come out of\n\n interstellar space to devour Earth. They gnawed\n\n at her soil, drank deep of her seas. Where, on\n\n this gutted cosmic carcass, could humanity flee?\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1950.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWestover got a shock when he stumbled onto the monster, for all that he\n knew one had been through here.\n\n\n He had been following the high ground toward the hills, alternately\n splashing through waist-deep water and climbing onto comparatively dry\n knolls. To right and left of him was the sullen noise of the river in\n flood, and behind him, too, the rising water he had barely escaped. The\n night was overcast, the moon a faint disk of glow that left river and\n hills and even the mud underfoot invisible.\n\n\n He had not sought in his mind for the flood's cause, but had merely\n taken it numbly as part of the fury and confusion of a world in ruin.\n Anyway, he was dead tired out on his feet.\n\n\n He sensed more than saw the looming wall before him, but he thought\n it the bare ledge-rock of a stripped hillside until he stepped into a\n small pot-hole and lurched forward, and his outflung hands sank into\n the slime that covered a surface faintly, horrifyingly resilient.\n\n\n He recoiled as if seared, and retreated, slithering in the muck. For\n moments his mind was full of dark formless panic; then he took a firm\n hold on himself and tried to comprehend the situation.\n\n\n Nothing was distinguishable beyond a few yards, but his mind's eye\n could see the rest—the immense slug-like shape that extended in\n ponderous repose across the river valley, its head and tail spilling\n over the hills on either side, five miles apart. The beast was\n quiescent until morning—sleeping, if such things slept.\n\n\n And that explained the flood; the monster's body had formed an\n unbreakable dam behind which the river had been steadily piling up in\n those first hours of night; if it did not move until dawn, the level\n would be far higher then.\n\n\n Westover stood motionless in the blackness; how long, he did not know.\n He was hardly aware of the water that covered his feet, crept over his\n ankles, and swirled halfway to his knees. Only the emergence of the\n moon through a rift of the cloud blanket brought him awake; its dim\n light gleamed all around on a great sheet of water, unbroken save for\n scattered black hummocks—crests of knolls like that on which he stood,\n all soon to be hidden by the rising flood.\n\n\n For a moment he knew despair. The way back was impassable, and the way\n ahead was blocked by the titanic enemy.\n\n\n Then the impersonal will that had driven him implacably two days and\n nights without stopping came to his rescue. Westover plodded forward,\n pressed his shrinking body against the slimy, faintly warm surface of\n the monster's foot, and sought above him with upstretched hands—found\n holds, and began to climb with a strength he had not known was left in\n him.\n\n\n The moonlight's fading again was merciful as he climbed the sheer,\n slippery face of the foot; but he could hear the wash and chuckle of\n the flood below. His tired brain told him treacherously: \"I'm already\n asleep—this is a nightmare.\" Once, listening to that insidious voice,\n he slipped and for instants hung dizzily by his hands, and for some\n minutes after he had found a new foothold merely clung panting with\n pounding heart.\n\n\n Some time after he had found courage to resume the climb, he dragged\n himself, gasping and quivering, to comparative safety on the broad\n shelf that marked the rim of the foot. Above him lay the great black\n steep that rose to the summit of the monster's humped back, a mountain\n to be climbed. Westover felt poignantly that his exhausted body could\n not make that ascent and face the long and dangerous descent beyond,\n which he had to make before dawn ... but not now ... not now....\nHe lay in a state between waking and dreaming, high on the monster's\n side; and it seemed that the colossal body moved, swelling and\n sighing—but he knew they did not breathe as backboned animals do.\n Westover had been one of the men who, in the days when humanity was\n still fighting, had accumulated quite a store of knowledge about the\n enemy—the enemy that was brainless and toolless, but that was simply\n too vast for human intelligence and weapons to defeat....\n\n\n Westover no longer saw the murky moonlight, the far faint glitter of\n the flood or the slope of the living mountain. He saw, as he had seen\n from a circling jet plane, an immense tree of smoke that rose and\n expanded under the noonday sun, creamy white above and black and oily\n below, and beneath the black cloud something that writhed and flowed\n sluggishly in a cyclopean death agony.\n\n\n That picture dissolved, and was replaced by the face of a man—one who\n might now be alive or dead, elsewhere in the chaos of a desolated\n planet. It was an ordinary face, roundish, spectacled, but etched now\n by tragedy; the voice that went with it was flat, unemotional, pedantic.\n\n\n \"There are so many of them, and we've destroyed so few—and to kill\n those few took our mightiest weapons. Examination of the ones that have\n been killed discloses the reason why ordinary projectiles and bombs and\n poisons are ineffective against them—apart, that is, from the chief\n reason of sheer size. The creatures are so loosely organized that a\n local injury hardly affects the whole. In a sense, each one of them is\n a single cell—like the slime molds, the Earthly life forms that most\n resemble them.\n\n\n \"That striking resemblance, together with the fact that they chose\n Earth to attack out of all the planets of the Solar System, shows they\n must have originated on a world much like this. But while on Earth the\n slime molds are the highest reticular organisms, and the dominant life\n is all multicellular, on the monsters' home world conditions must have\n favored unicellular growth. Probably as a result of this unspecialized\n structure, the monsters have attained their great size and perhaps for\n the same reason they have achieved what even intelligent cellular life\n so far hasn't—liberation from existence bound to one world's surface,\n the conquest of space. They accomplished it not by invention but by\n adaptation, as brainless life once crawled out of the sea to conquer\n the dry land.\n\n\n \"The monsters who have descended on Earth must represent the end result\n of a long evolution completed in space itself. They are evidently\n deep-space beings, able to propel themselves from planet to planet and\n from star to star in search of food, guided by instinct to suns and\n worlds like ours. Descending on such a planet, they move across its\n surface systematically ingesting all edible material—all life not\n mobile enough to avoid their march. They are like caterpillars that\n overrun a planet and strip it of its leaves, before moving on to the\n next.\n\n\n \"Man is a highly mobile species, so our direct casualties of this\n invasion have been very light and will continue to be. But when the\n monsters have finished with Earth, there will be no vegetation left\n for man's food, no houses, no cities, none of the fixed installations\n of civilization, and the end will be far more terrible than if we were\n all devoured by the monsters.\"\nWestover awoke, feeling himself bathed by the cold sweat of\n nightmare—then he realized that a misty rain had wetted his face and\n sogged his clothes. That, and the sleep he had had, refreshed him and\n made his mind clearer than it had been for days, and he remembered that\n he could not sleep but had to go on, searching with a hope that would\n not die for some miraculously spared refuge where civilization and\n science might yet exist, where there would be the means to realize his\n idea for stopping the monsters.\n\n\n He sat up, eyes searching the sky for a sign to tell him how long he\n had slept. Low on the western horizon he found the faint glow that told\n of the moon's setting; and in the east a stronger light was already\n struggling through the clouds and mist, becoming every moment less\n tenuous and illusory, more the bitter reality of the breaking day.\n\n\n Even as Westover began frantically climbing, out of that lightening\n sky the hopelessness of his effort pressed down on him. With dawn the\n monster would begin to move, to crawl eastward impelled by the same dim\n phototropic urge which must guide these things out of the interstellar\n depths to Sun-type stars. All of them had crept endlessly eastward\n around the Earth, gutting the continents and churning the sea bottoms,\n and by now whatever was left of human civilization must be starving\n beyond the Arctic circle, or aboard ships at sea. The hordes that\n still lived and wandered over the once populous fertile lands, like\n this—would not live long.\n\n\n For a man like Westover, who had been a scientist, it was not the\n prospect of death that was most crushing, but the death blow to his\n human pride, the star-storming pride of mind and will—defeated by\n sheer bulk and mindless hunger.\n\n\n Near the crest of the monster's back, he stumbled and fell hands and\n knees on the shagreen-roughness of the skin; at first he thought only\n that an attack of dizziness had made him fall, then he realized that\n the surface beneath him had shifted. Unmistakably even in the misty\n dawn-light, the hills and valleys of the rugose back were changing\n shape, as the vast protoplasmic mass below crawled, flowed beneath its\n integument. In slow peristaltic motion the waves marched eastward,\n toward the monster's head.\n\n\n He could stay where he was unharmed, of course. On the monster's back,\n of all places, he had nothing to fear from it or from others of its\n kind. But he knew with desperate clarity that by nightfall, when the\n beast became still once more, exhaustion and growing hunger would have\n made him unable to descend. As he lay where he had fallen, he felt that\n weakness creeping over him, no longer held in check by the will that\n had kept him doggedly plodding forward.\n\n\n Again he lay half conscious, in a lethargy that unchecked must grow\n steadily deeper until death. Isolated thoughts floated through his\n head. It occurred to him that he was now ideally located to conduct\n the experiments necessary to prove his theory of how to destroy the\n monsters—if only someone had had the foresight to build a biological\n laboratory on the monster's back. Of course the rolling motion would\n create special problems of technique.... Idiocy.... Once more he seemed\n to glimpse Sutton's face, as the biologist calmly made that grisly\n report to the President's Committee on Extermination.... Sutton's\n prediction had been a hundred percent correct. The monsters' hunger\n knew no halt until they had absorbed into themselves all the organic\n material on the world which was their prey.... And men must starve, as\n he was starving now....\nWith a struggle Westover roused himself, first sitting up, then swaying\n to his feet, frowning with the effort to look sanely at the terrible\n inspiration that had come to him. The cloud blanket was breaking up,\n the sun already high, beating down on the naked moving plateau on which\n the man stood. The idea born in him seemed to stand that light, even to\n expand into hope.\n\n\n Fingers shaking, he unhitched the light ax from his belt and began to\n hack with feverish industry at the monster's crusted hide.\n\n\n The scaly, weathered epidermis seemed immeasurably thick. But at last\n he had chopped through it, reached the softer protoplasm beneath.\n Clawing and hewing in the hole he had made, he tore out heavy slabs of\n the monster's flesh.\n\n\n A ripple that did not belong to the crawling motion ran over the\n thing's surface round about. Westover laughed wildly with a sudden\n sense of power. He, the insignificant human mite, had made the\n miles-long beast twitch like a flea-bitten dog.\n\n\n The analogy was pat; like a flea, he had lodged on a larger animal and\n was about to nourish himself from it. The slabs of flesh he had cut off\n were gray and unappetizing, but he knew from the studies he had helped\n Sutton make that the monsters, extraterrestrial though they were, were\n in the basic chemistry of proteins, fats and carbohydrates one with man\n or the amoeba, and therefore might be—food.\n\n\n His matches were dry in their water-proof case; he made a smoldering\n fire from the loose fibrous scale of the monster's back, and half an\n hour later was replete. Either the long fast, or involuntary revulsion,\n or perhaps merely the motion of the creature brought on nausea, but he\n fought it sternly back and succeeded in keeping his strange meal down.\n Then he was tormented by thirst. It was some time, though, before he\n could bring himself to drink the colorless fluid that had collected in\n the wound he had inflicted on the monster.\n\n\n Thus began for him a weird existence—the life of a parasite, of a flea\n on a dog. The monster crawled by day and rested by night; strengthened,\n the man could have left it then, but somehow night after night he did\n not. It wasn't, he argued with himself sometimes in the days when he\n lay torpidly drowsing, lulled by the long sway, arms over his head to\n protect him from the sun's baking, merely that he was chained to the\n only source of food he knew in all the world—not just that he was\n developing a flea's psychology. He was a man and a scientist, and he\n was conducting an experiment.... His life on the monster's back was\n proving something, something of vast importance for man, the extinct\n animal—but for increasingly longer periods of time he could not\n remember what it was....\n\n\n There came a morning, though, when he remembered.\nThus began for him a weird existence—the life of a parasite, of a flea on a dog.\nHe woke with the sun's warmth on his body and the realization of\n something amiss trickling through his head. It was a little while\n before he recognized the wrongness, and when he did he sat bolt upright.\n\n\n The sun was already up, and the monster should have begun once more its\n steady, ravenous march to the east. But there was no motion; the great\n living expanse lay still around him. He wondered wildly if it was dead.\n\n\n Presently, though, he felt a faint shuddering and lift beneath his\n feet, and heard far stifled mutterings and sighs.\n\n\n Westover's mind was beginning to function again; it was as though the\n cessation of the rock and sway had exorcised the lethargy that had lain\n upon him. He knew now that he had been almost insane for the time he\n had passed here, touched by the madness that takes hermits and men lost\n in deserts or oceans. And his was a stranger solitude than any of those.\n\n\n Now he listened strainingly to the portentous sounds of change in the\n monster's vitals, and in a flash of insight knew them for what they\n were. The scientists had found, in the burst bodies of the Titans\n that had been killed by atomic bombs, the answer to the riddle of\n these creatures' crossing of space: great vacuoles, pockets of gas\n that in the living animal could be under exceedingly high pressures,\n and that could be expelled to drive the monster in flight like a\n reaction engine. Rocket propulsion, of course, was nothing new to\n zoology; it was developed ages before man, by the squids and by those\n odd degenerate relatives of the vertebrates that are called tunicates\n because of their gaudy cellulose-plastic armor....\n\n\n The monster on which Westover had been living as a parasite was\n generating gases within itself, preparing to leave the ravished Earth.\n That was the meaning of its gargantuan belly rumblings. And they meant\n further that he must finally leave it—now or never—or be borne aloft\n to die gasping in the stratosphere.\n\n\n Hurriedly the man scrambled to the highest eminence of the back and\n stood looking about; and what he saw brought him to the brink of\n despair. For all around lay blue water, waves dancing and glinting in\n the fresh breeze; and sniffing the air he recognized the salt tang\n of the sea. While he slept the monster had crept beyond the coast\n line, and lay now in what to it was shallow water—fifty or a hundred\n fathoms. Back the way it had come, a headland was visible, mockingly,\n hopelessly distant.\n\n\n Of course—the great beast would crawl into the sea, which would float\n its bloated bulk and enable it to accelerate and take flight. It would\n never have been able to lift itself into the air from the dry land.\n\n\n He should have foreseen that and made his escape in time. Now that\n he had solved the problem of human survival.... But the bright ocean\n laughed at him, sparkling away wave beyond rolling wave, and beyond\n that blue headland could be only a land made desert, where men become\n beasts fought crazily over the last morsels of food. He had lost track\n of the days he had been on the monster's back, but the rape of Earth\n must be finished now. He had no doubt that the things would depart\n as they had come into the Solar System—in that close, seemingly\n one-willed swarm that Earth's astronomers had at first taken for a\n comet. If this one was leaving, the rest no doubt were too.\n\n\n Westover sat for a space with head in hands, hearing the faint\n continuing murmurs from below. And he remembered the voices.\nHe had been hearing them again as he awoke—the distant muffled voices\n whose words he could not make out, not the small close ones that\n sometimes in the hot middays had spoken clearly in his ear and even\n called his name. The latter had to be, as he had vaguely accepted them\n even then, illusions—but the others—with his new clarity he was\n suddenly sure that they had been real.\n\n\n And a wild, white light of hope blazed in him, and he flung himself\n flat on the rough surface, beat on it with bare fists and shouted:\n \"Help! Here I am! Help!\"\n\n\n He paused to listen with fierce intentness, and heard nothing but the\n faint eructations deep inside the monster.\n\n\n Then he sprang to his feet, gripping his hand-ax, and ran panting to\n the place where he had dug for food. His excavations tended to close\n and heal overnight; now he went to work with vicious strokes enlarging\n the latest one, hacking and tearing it deeper and deeper.\n\n\n He was almost hidden in the cavity when a shadow fell across him from\n behind. He whirled, for there could be no shadows on the monster's back.\n\n\n A man stood watching him calmly—an elderly man in rusty black\n clothing, leaning on a stick. The staff, the snowy beard, and something\n that smoldered behind the benign eyes, gave him the look of an ancient\n prophet.\n\n\n \"Who are you?\" asked Westover, breathlessly but almost without surprise.\n\n\n \"I am the Preacher,\" the old man said. \"The Lord hath sent me to save\n you. Arise, my son, and follow me.\"\n\n\n Westover hesitated. \"I'm not just imagining you?\" he appealed.\n \"Somebody else has really found the answer?\"\n\n\n The Preacher's brows knitted faintly, but then his look turned to\n benevolent understanding. \"You have been alone too long here. Come with\n me—I will take you to the Doctor.\"\n\n\n Westover was still not sure that the other was more than one of the\n powerful specters of childhood—the Preacher, the Doctor, no doubt the\n Teacher next—risen to rob him of his last shreds of sanity. But he\n nodded in childlike obedience, and followed.\n\n\n When, a few hundred yards nearer the monster's head, the other halted\n at a black rent in the rugose hide, the mouth of a burrow descending\n into utter blackness—Westover knew that both the Preacher and his own\n wild hope were real.\n\n\n \"Down here. Into the belly of Leviathan,\" said the old man solemnly,\n and Westover nodded this time with alacrity.\nThe crawling descent through the twisting, Stygian burrow had much\n that ought to belong to a journey into Hell.... More than that, no\n demonologist's imagination could have conceived without experiencing\n the sheer horror of the yielding beslimed walls that seemed every\n moment squeezing in to trap them unspeakably. The air was warm and\n rank with the familiar heavy sweetish odor of the monster's colorless\n blood....\n\n\n Then, as he knew it must, a light glimmered ahead, the sinus widened,\n and Westover climbed to his feet and stood, weak-kneed still, staring\n at a chamber carved in the veritable belly of Leviathan. The floor\n underfoot was firm, as was the wall his shaking fingers tested.\n Dazzled, he saw tools leaning against the walls, spades, crowbars,\n axes, and a half-dozen people, men and women in rough grimy clothing,\n who stood watching him with lively interest.\n\n\n The Preacher stood beside him, breathing hard and mopping his forehead.\n But he brushed aside the deferential offers of the others: \"No—I will\n take him to the Doctor myself. All of you must hurry now to close the\n shaft.\"\n\n\n There was another tunnel to be crawled through, but that one was\n firm-walled as the room they left behind. They emerged into a larger\n cavern, that like the first was lit—only now did the miracle of it\n obtrude itself in his dazed mind—by fluorescent tubes, and filled with\n equipment that gleamed glass and metal. Over an apparatus with many\n fluid-dripping trays, like an air-conditioning device, bent a lone man.\n\n\n \"Is it working?\" inquired the Preacher.\n\n\n \"It's working,\" the other answered without looking up from the\n adjustment he was making. Bubbles were rising in the fluid that filled\n the trays, rising and bursting, rising and bursting with a curiously\n fascinating monotony. The subtly tense attitudes of the two initiates\n told Westover better than words that there was something hugely\n important in the success of whatever magic was producing those bubbles.\n\n\n The thaumaturge straightened, wiping his hands on his trousers as he\n turned with a satisfied grin on his round, spectacled face—then both\n he and Westover froze in dumbfounded recognition.\nSutton was first to recover. He said quietly, \"Welcome aboard the ark,\n Bill. You're just in time—I think we're about to hoist anchor.\" His\n quick eyes studied Westover's face, and he gestured toward a packing\n box against the wall opposite his apparatus. \"Sit down. You've been\n through the mill.\"\n\n\n \"That's right,\" Westover sat down dizzily. \"I've been aboard your ark\n for some time now, though. Only as an ectoparasite.\"\n\n\n \"It's high time you joined the endoparasites. Lucky you scratched\n around enough up there to create repercussions we could feel down here.\n You got the same idea, then?\"\n\n\n \"I stumbled onto it,\" Westover admitted. \"I was wandering across\n country—my plane crashed on the way back from that South American\n bug hunt dreamed up by somebody who'd been reading Wells'\nWar of the\n Worlds\n. I think my pilot went nuts; you could see too much of the\n destruction from up there.... But I got out in one piece and started\n walking—looking for some place with people and facilities that could\n try out my method of killing the monsters. I thought—I still think—I\n had a sure-fire way to do that—but I didn't realize then that it was\n too late to think of killing them off.\"\n\n\n Sutton nodded thoughtfully. \"It was too late—or too early, perhaps.\n We'll have to talk that over.\"\n\n\n Westover finished the brief account of his coming to dwell on the\n monster's back. The other grinned happily.\n\n\n \"You began with the practice, where I worked out the theory first.\"\n\n\n \"I haven't got so far with the theory,\" said Westover, \"but I think\n I've got the main outlines. Until the monsters came, man was a parasite\n on the face of the Earth. Fundamentally, parasitism—on the green\n plants and their by-products—was our way of life, as of all animals\n from the beginning. But the monsters absorbed into themselves all the\n plant food and even the organic material in the soil. So we have only\n one way out—to transfer our parasitism to the only remaining food\n source—the monsters themselves.\n\n\n \"The monsters almost defeated us, because of their two special\n adaptations of extreme size and ability to cross space. But man has\n always won the battle of adaptations before, because he could improvise\n new ones as the need arose. The greatest crisis humanity ever faced\n called for the most radical innovation in our way of life.\"\n\n\n \"Very well put,\" approved Sutton. \"Except that you make it sound easy.\n By the time I'd worked it out like that, things were already in\n such a turmoil that putting it into effect was the devil's own job.\n About the only ones I could find to help me were the Preacher and his\n people. They have the faith that moves mountains, that has made this\n self-moving mountain inhabitable.\"\n\n\n \"It is inhabitable?\" Westover's question reflected no doubt.\nSutton gestured at the bubbling device behind him. \"That thing is\n making air now, which we're going to need when the monster's in space.\n It was when we were still trying to find a poison for the beasts that I\n hit on the catalyst that makes their blood give up its oxygen—that's\n its blood flowing through the filters. We've got an electric generator\n running by tapping the monster's internal gas pressure. There are\n problems left before we'll be fully self-sufficient here—but the\n monster is so much like us in fundamental makeup that its body contains\n all the elements human life needs too.\"\n\n\n \"Then,\" Westover glanced appreciatively around, \"it looks like the main\n hazard is claustrophobia.\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry about a cave-in. We're surrounded by solid cystoid\n tissue. But,\" Sutton's voice took on a graver note, \"there may be\n other psychological dangers. I don't think all our people—there are\n fifty-one, fifty-two of us now—realize yet that this colony isn't just\n a temporary expedient. Human history hasn't had such a turning-point\n since men first started chipping stone. Spengler's\nMensch als\n Raubtier\n—if he ever existed—has to be replaced by the\nMensch als\n Schmarotzer\n, and the adjustment may come hard. We've got to plan\n for the rest of our lives—and our children's and our children's\n children's—as parasites inside this monster and whatever others we can\n manage to—infect—when they're clustered again in space.\"\n\n\n \"For the future,\" put in the Preacher, who had watched benignly the\n biologists' reunion, \"the Lord will provide, even as He did unto Jonah\n when he cried to Him out of the belly of the fish.\"\n\n\n \"Amen,\" agreed Sutton. But the gaze he fixed on Westover was oddly\n troubled. \"Speaking of the future brings up the question of the idea\n you mentioned—your monster-killing scheme.\"\nWestover flexed his hands involuntarily, like one who has been too\n long enforcedly idle. In terse eager sentences he outlined for Sutton\n the plan that had burned in him during his bitter wandering over\n the face of the ruined land. It would be very easy to accomplish\n from an endoparasite's point of vantage, merely by isolating from\n the creature's blood over a long period enough of some potent\n secretion—hormone, enzyme or the like—to kill when suddenly\n reintroduced into the system. \"Originally I thought we could accomplish\n the same thing by synthesis—but this way will be simpler.\"\n\n\n \"Beautifully simple.\" Sutton smiled wryly. \"So much so that I wish\n you'd never thought of it.\"\n\n\n Westover stared. \"Why?\"\n\n\n \"Describing your plan, you sounded almost ready to put it into effect\n on the spot.\"\n\n\n \"No! Of course I realize—Well, I see what you mean—I think.\" Westover\n was crestfallen.\n\n\n Sutton smiled faintly.\n\n\n \"I think you do, Bill. To survive, we've got to be\ngood\nparasites.\n That means before all, for the coming generations, that we keep our\n numbers down. A good parasite doesn't destroy or even overtax its host.\n We don't want to follow the sorry example of such unsuccessful species\n as the bugs of bubonic plague or typhoid; we'll do better to model\n ourselves on the humble tapeworm.\n\n\n \"Your idea is dangerous for the same reason. The monsters probably\n spend thousands of years in interstellar space; during that time\n they'll be living exclusively on their fat—the fuel they stored on\n Earth, and so will we. We've got a whole new history of man ahead\n of us, under such changed conditions that we can't begin to predict\n what turns it may take. There's a very great danger that men will\n proliferate until they kill their hosts. But imagine a struggle for\nLebensraum\nwhen all the living space there is is a few thousand\n monsters capable of supporting a very limited number of people\n each—with your method giving an easy way to destroy these little\n worlds our descendants will inhabit. It's too much dynamite to have\n around the house.\"\n\n\n Westover bowed his head, but he had caught a curiously expectant glint\n in Sutton's eyes as he spoke. He thought, and his face lightened.\n \"Suppose we work out a way to record my idea, one that can't be\n deciphered by anyone unintelligent enough to be likely to misuse it. A\n riddle for our descendants—who should have use for it some day.\"\n\n\n At last Sutton smiled. \"That's better. You've thought it through to\n the end, I see.... This phase of our history won't last forever.\n Eventually, the monsters will come to another planet not too unlike\n Earth, because it's on such worlds they prey. A tapeworm can cross the\n Sahara desert in the intestine of a camel—\"\n\n\n His voice was drowned in a vast hissing roar. An irresistible pressure\n distorted the walls of the chamber and scythed its occupants from their\n feet. Sutton staggered drunkenly almost erect, fought his way across\n the tilting floor to make sure of his precious apparatus. He turned\n back toward the others, bracing himself and shouting something; then,\n knowing his words lost in the thunder, gestured toward the Earth they\n were leaving, a half-regretful, half-triumphant farewell.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was not one of Westover's goals in this passage?", "question_unique_id": "63936_1LRE5TR5_1", "options": ["To find a way to kill the monsters", "To negotiate with the monsters", "To find some other people", "To locate a new food supply"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Earth so bleak for human civilization?", "question_unique_id": "63936_1LRE5TR5_2", "options": ["The monsters destroyed all of the Americas and Asia", "The monsters killed everyone except for Westover", "The monsters have destroyed most places", "The monsters quickly suck the energy out of humans"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is not something Westover discovers about the monsters in this passage?", "question_unique_id": "63936_1LRE5TR5_3", "options": ["They can be a food source", "They can be killed by administering a specific type of cut near their head", "They can produce fuel which lets them fly", "They can float on water"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why would it be a bad idea for Westover to disembark the monster when he realized where its next big destination was?", "question_unique_id": "63936_1LRE5TR5_4", "options": ["He would end up trapped in the desert", "He would be stranded on the island", "He wouldn't be able to reach land", "He would end up nearby a camp of dangerous humans"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Does the tone of the passage shift at all, and if it does, how does it shift?", "question_unique_id": "63936_1LRE5TR5_5", "options": ["It starts out bleak and quickly becomes hopeful", "There's no tone shift, it's consistently bleak throughout", "Most of the story is bleak but there are a few final moments of hope", "There's no tone shift, most of the passage is filled with dark humor"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Based on the information in the passage, will Westover be remembered by other humans, and if he will, what will be his legacy?", "question_unique_id": "63936_1LRE5TR5_6", "options": ["He'll be remembered as the man who discovered that humans can eat the monsters for sustenance", "He's isolated so he's likely already completely been forgotten (or will be forgotten soon)", "He'll eventually be remembered as the man who first knew the way to destroy the monsters", "He'll be remembered as the man who discovered that humans can live inside the monsters"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are the monsters so difficult to kill?", "question_unique_id": "63936_1LRE5TR5_7", "options": ["They're so large that they'll regularly flip over and crush any humans that are riding on them", "They're so large that they're generally undisturbed by injuries", "They're so large and common that humans have to move only by riding on them or jumping from monster to monster", "They're large and they're so evolved that they can regenerate body mass and heal themselves"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Do you think this story has a happy ending given Westover's goals?", "question_unique_id": "63936_1LRE5TR5_8", "options": ["It's a happy ending", "Not at all", "It's bittersweet", "It's not a happy ending for Westover but it is a happy ending for the other characters"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/9/3/63936//63936-h//63936-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20008", "set_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1013", "source": "Slate", "title": "The Olympic Gene Pool", "year": "1996", "author": "Andrew Berry", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "The Olympic Gene Pool \n\n         Why the human race keeps getting faster. \n\n                         By Andrew Berry              \n\n         ( 2,168 words; posted Thursday, July 4; to be composted Thursday, July 11 ) \n\n         On May 6, 1954, at Oxford University's Iffley Road track, Roger Bannister became, by just half a second, the first man to run a mile in less than four minutes. The Holy Grail of middle-distance running was his. Forty-two years later, however, that achievement seems less significant. Four-minute miles are commonplace; the current record, held by Algerian Noureddine Morceli, is 3:44 , more than 5 percent faster than Bannister's speed. What Iffley Road witnessed was just another step along the road to an ever quicker mile, part of the inexorable improvement of athletic performance that we usually take for granted, particularly when the Olympics roll around. If you stop to think about it, though, such constant progress is remarkable. After all, as biomechanical machines with a standard set of parts, humans should be subject to the same limitations we see in, say, automobiles. How come they aren't? \n\n         A lot of entrepreneurs and technophiles would like us to think that the answer has to do with discoveries in the world of sports technology. A new Nike shoe is trumpeted as something that will shave at least one-thousandth of a second off your 100-meter time. Trainers measure the rate of buildup of lactic acid in your muscles, then claim that their programs will control it. Nutritionists fine-tune athletes' diets. Even the old sexual-abstinence-before-the-race dogma is being re-evaluated under the all-seeing eye of science. But I consider all this little more than tinkering. Sports records would continue to tumble even if training methods or athletic clothing or sexual practices were exactly the same today as they were in 1896, when the first modern Olympics took place. These minor miracles are the product neither of technology nor of training but of demographic patterns that affect us all. \n\n         Over the past century, the human race has been affected by a slew of what demographers call \"secular\" trends. (In this context, \"secular\" does not refer to a trend's lack of spirituality but to its longevity: Secular trends are long-term modifications, not just brief fluctuations.) One such trend is an increase in average size. You have to stoop to get through the doorways of a Tudor cottage in England because its inhabitants were smaller than you are, not because they had a penchant for crouching. Another trend is in life expectancy. People are living longer. Life expectancy in Africa increased over the past 20 years from 46 to 53 years. Over the same period in Europe, where things were already pretty comfortable to begin with, life expectancy increased from 71 to 75 years. The global average was an increase from 58 to 65 years. \n\n          Probably the most striking change, though, is how much more quickly children are maturing. A 12-year-old child in 1990 who was in what the World Health Organization calls \"average economic circumstances\" was about 9 inches taller than his or her 1900 counterpart. This is not solely the product of the first trend--the increase in average size--but also due to the fact that children develop faster. Girls menstruate earlier than they used to. The age of menarche (the onset of menstruation) has decreased by three or four months per decade in average sections of Western European populations for the past 150 years. There is a good chance that our 1990 12-year-old already had started to menstruate. Her 1900 counterpart would still have had three years to wait. \n\n         What do such trends have to do with athletic performance? Well, if we're living longer and growing up faster, that must mean we're producing bigger, better bodies. Better bodies imply faster miles. We run faster and faster for the same reason it is now common for 11-year-old girls to menstruate. But why are these things happening? \n\n          Demographers have offered a variety of explanations, but the main one is that our diet is improving. A 12-year-old ate better in 1990 than she would have in the Victorian era. This conclusion is supported by studies of the social elite: Because its members were well-nourished even in the early years of this century, this group has experienced relatively little change, over the past 100 years, in the age girls first menstruate. Another explanation is that health care is getting better. In 1991, according to the WHO, more than 75 percent of all 1-year-olds worldwide were immunized against a range of common diseases. Smallpox, that scourge of previous generations, now is effectively extinct. Probably the best measure of how much healthier we are is the rate of infant mortality, which measures both the health of the mother (a sickly mother is more likely to produce a sickly baby) and the health of the baby. In the past 20 years, infant mortality around the world has dropped from 92 deaths per 1000 live births to just 62. A lot of this can be chalked up to primary-heath-care programs in the developing world--the African average, for instance, has dropped from 135 deaths per 1000 births to 95. But there are also significant improvements in the developed world, with infant deaths dropping in Europe over the same 20-year period from 24 per 1000 live births to just 10. \n\n         Better health care affects athletic ability directly. This is true in the trivial case in which, say, antibiotics cure a runner's fever before the big race, but it may also be true in a more significant way. Diseases contracted in early infancy can have a lifetime impact on health--not necessarily a big one, but an impact nevertheless. Previous generations bore scars from all sorts of non-life-threatening diseases, the stuff everyone picked up as a baby. Nowadays, though, more and more people grow up with no history of disease. Since top athletes inevitably are drawn from the healthiest sector of the population, a generally superior system of health care means a bigger pool of people to draw from. You are much more likely to find someone who can run a mile in 3:30 in a sample of several million superbly healthy people than you are in a sample of 10,000. \n\n         The pool of potential athletes has expanded in other ways, too. First, the population has exploded. Second, we are coming ever closer to a worldwide middle class, the class from which athletes typically are drawn. Whether, in an age of multinational capitalism, we may talk reasonably about a post-colonial era is way beyond the scope of this article. The fact remains, however, that the developing world is doing just that--developing. Even Mozambique, which ranks at, or near, the bottom of national per capita gross national product tables, has shown an increase of some 20 percent in adult literacy rates over the past 20 years. Literacy rates are merely an index of education, which itself is another way of talking about a global move away from a hand-to-mouth lifestyle. \n\n         The decline of empire has its Olympic corollaries. Britain won, on average, 17 gold medals per Olympics in the five official games held in its imperial heyday before World War I. That average has dropped to only five medals per Olympics in the 17 held since. This is not a reflection of declining athletic standards in Britain, however; it's a function of how much more competitive other nations have become. The Olympics originally were the preserve of the socioeconomic elite of the socioeconomic elite among nations. Consider this: Only 13 nations participated in 1896, but there were 172 in 1992. Black Africans didn't take part until the third modern games, held in St. Louis in 1908. Even this was accidental: Lentauw and Yamasami, Zulu tribesmen, entered the marathon because they happened to be in St. Louis as part of an exhibit about the Boer war. Lentauw finished ninth despite being chased into a cornfield by dogs. \n\n         Since all these are changes in how we live, not anything innate, we have to conclude that what we are describing here are effects of environment, not genes. Let us assume that our 1900 and 1990 12-year-olds are identical twins magically born 90 years apart. The 1990 girl still will grow up faster, end up bigger, menstruate earlier, and live longer than the 1900 girl. Perhaps way, way back in human history, when our forebears were still fleeing saber-toothed tigers, natural selection for athletic prowess came into play. But all that ended long ago. Indeed, the laws of natural selection probably work against athletes these days: Given the rigors of training schedules, it is possible that today's top athletes have fewer children than average. \n\n          Just because nurture has a more significant effect on athletic performance doesn't mean that nature lies dormant, though. Genetic variation exists for just about any trait you choose to study, and the ability to run quickly would be no exception. To take a trivial case, we know that the inheritance of extra fingers or toes is determined genetically. It is quite possible that the possession of an extra toe would hinder an aspiring miler--their genes have affected their athletic performance. One genetic factor that may be influencing performance trends is what is known as \"hybrid vigor.\" Cattle breeders have known about this for a long time: Take two inbred lines of cattle, cross them, and what you have is \"better\" (say, larger) than any single individual in either of the two parental lines. This does not require natural selection; it is the accidental byproduct of combining two previously isolated stocks. There are a number of theories to account for this at the genetic level, but it has proved difficult to discriminate among them. It is possible that modern humans exhibit some form of hybrid vigor simply because migration and admixture of populations are now occurring at unprecedented rates. Perhaps, just perhaps, such hybridization is being translated into enhanced performance. \n\n         That doesn't mean, however, that genetic differences in athletic ability can be correlated automatically with race. That is a claim that is impossible to test, because you cannot control, in an experimental sense, environmental differences among the study groups. Sure, you will find more Africans or descendants of Africans standing on the podiums at the end of Olympic track events. And you will find far fewer Asians on those same podiums. But can you, therefore, conclude that Africans have better genes for running than Asians do? No. Environmental differences between the two groups could account for differing levels of athletic success. It is scarcely surprising that Ethiopian or Kenyan distance runners do better than everyone else, since they are in the habit of running immense distances to and from primary school, middle school, and high school. The training is what's crucial, not the blackness. The Chinese sports establishment also has carried out an enormous, and effective, experiment to help dispel the myth that race has a direct relation to athletic ability. Until recently, a quick glance at the medals table confirmed every stereotype people held about Asians and sports. Then the Chinese decided to produce record-breaking female distance runners (and swimmers), and, boy, did they ever. In 1992, China ranked fourth in the Olympic-medal haul. \n\n         You can bring a single generation up to speed through training, but the trends we're dealing with transcend individual generations. Which brings us to another question: Will there come a time when the human machine will hit some sort of natural limit and an Olympic Games pass without a single record tumbling? In principle, yes. \n\n         There are some barriers that simply cannot be broken. We will never run a mile at the same speed at which we now run 100 meters, for instance. The laws of oxygen exchange will not permit it. Race horses seem already to have hit that outer limit. For years, they were as good as human athletes at pushing back speed records, but then they simply stopped getting faster. Take the prestigious British Derby. From 1850 to 1930, winning times dropped from 2:55 to 2:39. But from 1986 to 1996, the average time has been--2:39. Unlike people, race horses are specifically bred and reared to run. Generations of careful genetic selection have ensured that today's race horse has every possible speed-enhancing characteristic. Training techniques, too, are tremendously sophisticated. But you can go only so far. You can only breed horses with ultralight thin bones to a certain point; the bones will break under stress if they get any lighter. \n\n         Human improvement, like race-horse improvement, must eventually bow to the basic constraints of biomechanics. The age of menarche cannot keep on falling forever. On the other hand, it is clear from the remarkable demographic changes of just the past 20 years that these long-term trends are with us still. They may be slowing down in some more developed societies, but they roar along in others. And these trends will continue to fuel the improvement in athletic performance. Several new records will be set in Atlanta. And in Sydney in 2000, and wherever the Olympics are held in 2044. We will continue running faster and jumping further for a good long while to come.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does the article posit as the main factor leading to humans running faster and faster over time (as measured in athletic events)?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_1", "options": ["Humans try harder when there is a goal, and now that there is so much money to be had from sponsorships, athletes just try harder to compete for the money.", "Being raised under conditions that allow humans to get a lot closer to their genetic performance potential.", "A lot more athletes use steroids as part of their training regimes now, legally or illegally. Same reason why some baseball players hit more home runs.", "Natural selection is at work here. The athletes are self-selected, but these improved genes are passed down as the foundation for the next generation."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The author says, \"After all, as biomechanical machines with a standard set of parts, humans should be subject to the same limitations we in, say, automobiles. How come they aren't?\" What is a good answer to this question based on the article?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_2", "options": ["They are subject to the same limits, just not the same quality control.", "Actually, they are subject to biomechanical limitations imposed by factors like the speed at which the lungs can exchange oxygen. It's just that to date, that is not what is capping human performance potential.", "It is specifically untrue that humans have a standard set of parts. There is as much variation in human anatomical details that affect running as in the difference between a Chevy truck and a race car.", "Unlike inorganic automobile parts, the human machine can be improved without replacing any of its parts."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "According to the article, why do Africans dominate long distance running events these days?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_3", "options": ["Because African tribes have always held competitions during which the fastest men get the best-looking women as wives, and then they pass on their good genes.", "Because Africans are more willing to suffer than other races, and running a marathon is all about triumphing over physical suffering.", "Because since childhood, African children have had to run a long way from their homes to their schools, so they have the most practice at distance running.", "Because, living in the bush, they have to escape lions and other predators, so natural selection pressure has made them faster."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What genetic influences on running speed does the author identify?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_4", "options": ["The author is focused on differences in \"nurture\" and doesn't believe that there are any examples of differences in \"nature\" (genes).", "Body type matters. If you are not born an ectomorph, a genetically controlled body type, you will not be able to run fast over long distances.", "He calls out abnormal genetic conditions that would impede speed, and also references the effect of mixing races in producing \"hybrid vigor.\"", "Secretariat had an abnormally large heart. As with horses, people born with genetically larger hearts can run faster and longer."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did the Chinese do to help dispell the idea that racial differences determined racing speed?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_5", "options": ["The Chinese conducted extremely effective selection events. With a billion people, they were well-positioned to find more good runners if they just looked.", "They divided one thousand people into two groups. One group got only the traditional Chinese diet and health care, the other group got every modern advance and a good diet. They got faster runners from the \"good care\" group.", "China doesn't just consist of one race, and their Olympic team members do well from all the Chinese races such as the Mongolians, Uigars, Tibetans and Mandarins.", "Starting from nothing, they dramatically improved the performance of their women distance event competitors by improving their training, to rank fourth in medals won  in the Olympics of the early 1990s."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "According to the author, how does the availability of better health care impact running speed?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_6", "options": ["Better health care allows athletes to come back from injuries that would formerly have ended their careers.", "Disease prevention and good nutrition throughout childhood and young adulthood prevent an accumulation of small, barely noticeable permanent effects left behind by diseases and any periods of malnutrition.", "Better health care means people have more access to doctors, and more access to doctors means more opportunities for access to performance-enhancing drugs.", "The author points out that when you are healthy more often, you can train more, thus you get faster."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to the author, the age of onset of girls' periods is an indicator of improved diet, one factor in the improved health conditions correlated with humans running faster. That being the case, what group might be expected not to have had much improvement in their athletic performance in the last hundred or so years, based on what happened to their age of onset of periods during that time?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_7", "options": ["The upper crust of society, people who already and always had enough money to remain well-fed, and therefore already performed better, and did not stand to gain as the general level of nutrition improved.", "People who experienced cycles of good and bad fortune would have only benefited a little from society's improved health conditions.", "People of average economic circumstances have continued to have average economic circumstances, therefore their health did not improve, and athletes from this social stratum have not improved.", "Girls were not allowed to compete in athletic events at the time, so no one really knows whether improving nutrition helped their speed."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author offer to refute the notion that the best current athletes will produce even better athletes in future generations?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_8", "options": ["Doubling up on the genes of elite athletes often leads to unexpected genetic diseases and extremes of musculature that impede athletic performance.", "The human generational cycle of 20-30 years is too long for us to know yet what happens when elite athletes reproduce. It will take hundreds of years to find out.", "Most athletes don't marry other athletes, so we rarely see top athletes' genes combined in their children, except for Andre Agassi and Steffi Graf - and they aren't runners.", "Athletes have to train so hard for so long that they don't produce very many offspring, which is not a successful strategy for spreading their genetic material."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author put forward as the main reason why British athletes win fewer Olympic medals than at the beginning of the 20th century?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_9", "options": ["As the British Empire gradually collapsed, Great Britain became less wealthy, and competing in the Olympics is expensive.", "The British have been weakened by the introduction of many, many foreigners into the UK.", "The British lost their toughness, and hence their athletic advantage, when life got too easy for them.", "The number of countries and number of athletes competing has risen dramatically over time. There is a much bigger pool of potential winners."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What practicial limit did Thoroughbreds bump into which has help stalled the speed gains they made during the 19th and early 20th centuries?", "question_unique_id": "20008_JTYOKW25_10", "options": ["Creating horses that were strong but lightly built ran into trouble at the point when the horses bones were so fragile that a lot of horses started breaking down during races.", "The limits of oxygen change were reached, as proved by a series of very clever experiments involving a Thoroughbred and a treadmill.", "Horses could not get enough oxygen in and out of their lungs, which caused them to bleed. Performance improvement stopped when Lasix was banned in Britain.", "The entire population of Thoroughbreds traces back to just three stallions - The Godolphin Arabian, Byerly Turk and the Darley Arabian. The horses are so inbred now that they have a multitude of genetic problems that drag down their performance."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "63150", "set_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1013", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Soul Eaters", "year": 1953, "author": "Conover, William", "topic": "Science fiction; Asteroids -- Fiction; Adventure stories; Pirates -- Fiction; Castaways -- Fiction; PS", "article": "THE SOUL EATERS\nBy WILLIAM CONOVER\nFirebrand Dennis Brooke had one final chance\n\n to redeem himself by capturing Koerber whose\n\n ships were the scourge of the Void. But his\n\n luck had run its course, and now he was\n\n marooned on a rogue planet—fighting to save\n\n himself from a menace weapons could not kill.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1944.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"\nAnd so, my dear\n,\" Dennis detected a faint irony in the phrase, \"\nI'm\n afraid I can offer no competition to the beauties of five planets—or\n is it six? With regret I bow myself out, and knowing me as you do,\n you'll understand the futility of trying to convince me again. Anyway,\n there will be no temptation, for I'm sailing on a new assignment I've\n accepted. I did love you.... Good-by.\n\"\n\n\n Dennis Brooke had lost count of the times he'd read Marla's last\n letter, but every time he came to these final, poignant lines, they\n never failed to conjure a vision of her tawny loveliness, slender as\n the palms of Venus, and of the blue ecstasy of her eyes, wide with a\n perpetual wonder—limpid as a child's.\n\n\n The barbaric rhythms of the\nCongahua\n, were a background of annoyance\n in Dennis' mind; he frowned slightly as the maneuvers of the Mercurian\n dancer, who writhed among the guests of the notorious pleasure palace,\n began to leave no doubt as to her intentions. The girl was beautiful,\n in a sultry, almost incandescent sort of way, but her open promise left\n him cold. He wanted solitude, somewhere to coordinate his thoughts\n in silence and salvage something out of the wreck of his heart, not\n to speak of his career. But Venus, in the throes of a gigantic boom\n upon the discovery of radio-active fields, could offer only one\n solitude—the fatal one of her swamps and virgin forests.\n\n\n Dennis Brooke was thirty, the time when youth no longer seems unending.\n When the minor adventures of the heart begin to pall. If the loss of\n Marla left an aching void that all the women of five planets could not\n fill, the loss of Space, was quite as deadly. For he had been grounded.\n True, Koerber's escape from the I.S.P. net had not quite been his\n fault; but had he not been enjoying the joys of a voluptuous Jovian\n Chamber, in Venus' fabulous Inter-planetary Palace, he would have been\n ready for duty to complete the last link in the net of I.S.P. cruisers\n that almost surrounded the space pirate.\n\n\n A night in the Jovian Chamber, was to be emperor for one night. Every\n dream of a man's desire was marvelously induced through the skilful use\n of hypnotics; the rarest viands and most delectable drinks appeared as\n if by magic; the unearthly peace of an Olympus descended on a man's\n soul, and beauty ... beauty such as men dreamed of was a warm reality\n under the ineffable illumination of the Chamber.\n\n\n It cost a young fortune. But to pleasure mad, boom-ridden Venus, a\n fortune was a bagatelle. Only it had cost Dennis Brooke far more than a\n sheaf of credits—it had cost him the severe rebuff of the I.S.P., and\n most of his heart in Marla.\n\n\n Dennis sighed, he tilted his red, curly head and drank deeply of the\n insidious\nVerbena\n, fragrant as a mint garden, in the tall frosty\n glass of Martian\nBacca-glas\n, and as he did so, his brilliant hazel\n eyes found themselves gazing into the unwinking, violet stare of a\n young Martian at the next table. There was a smouldering hatred in\n those eyes, and something else ... envy, perhaps, or was it jealousy?\n Dennis couldn't tell. But his senses became instantly alert. Danger\n brought a faint vibration which his superbly trained faculties could\n instantly denote.\n\n\n His steady, bronzed hand lowered the drink, and his eyes narrowed\n slightly. Absorbed in trying to puzzle the sudden enmity of this\n Martian stranger, he was unaware of the Mercurian Dancer. The latter\n had edged closer, whirling in prismatic flashes from the myriad\n semi-precious stones that studded her brief gauze skirt. And now, in\n a final bid for the spacer's favor she flung herself in his lap and\n tilted back invitingly.\n\n\n Some of the guests laughed, others stared in plain envy at the\n handsome, red-haired spacer, but from the table across, came the\n tinkling sound of a fragile glass being crushed in a powerful hand,\n and a muffled Martian curse. Without warning, the Martian was on his\n feet with the speed of an Hellacorium, the table went crashing to one\n side as he leaped with deadly intent on the sprawled figure of Dennis\n Brooke. A high-pitched scream brought instant silence as a Terran girl\n cried out. Then the Martian's hand reached out hungrily. But Dennis was\n not there.\nLeaping to one side, impervious to the fall of the dancer, he avoided\n the murderous rush of the Martian youth, then he wheeled swiftly and\n planted a sledge-hammer blow in that most vulnerable spot of all\n Martians, the spot just below their narrow, wasp-like waist, and as the\n Martian half-doubled over, he lefted him with a short jab to the chin\n that staggered and all but dropped him.\n\n\n The Martian's violet eyes were black with fury now. He staggered back\n and sucked in air, his face contorted with excruciating pain. But he\n was not through. His powerful right shot like a blast straight for\n Dennis' chest, striking like a piston just below the heart. Dennis took\n it, flat-footed, without flinching; then he let his right ride over\n with all the force at his command. It caught the Martian on the jaw and\n spun him like a top, the pale, imperious face went crimson as he slowly\n sagged to his knees and rolled to the impeccable mosaics of the floor.\n\n\n Dennis, breathing heavily, stood over him until the international\n police arrived, and then he had the surprise of his life. Upon search,\n the police found a tiny, but fatal silvery tube holstered under his\n left arm-pit—an atomic-disintegrator, forbidden throughout the\n interplanetary League. Only major criminals and space pirates still\n without the law were known to possess them.\n\n\n \"Looks like your brawl has turned out to be a piece of fool's luck,\n Brooke!\" The Police Lieutenant favored Dennis with a wry smile. \"If\n I'm not mistaken this chap's a member of Bren Koerber's pirate crew.\n Who else could afford to risk his neck at the International, and have\n in his possession a disintegrator? Pity we have no complete records\n on that devil's crew! Anyway, we'll radio the I.S.P., perhaps they\n have details on this dandy!\" He eyed admiringly the priceless Martian\n embroideries on the unconscious Martian's tunic, the costly border of\n red, ocelandian fur, and the magnificent black\nacerine\non his finger.\n\n\n Dennis Brooke shrugged his shoulders, shoulders that would have put to\n shame the Athenian statues of another age. A faint, bitter smile curved\n his generous mouth. \"I'm grounded, Gillian, it'd take the capture of\n Koerber himself to set me right with the I.S.P. again—you don't know\n Bertram! To him an infraction of rules is a major crime. Damn Venus!\"\n He reached for his glass of\nVerbena\nbut the table had turned over\n during the struggle, and the glass was a shattered mass of gleaming\nBacca-glas\nshards. He laughed shortly as he became conscious of the\n venomous stare of the Mercurian Dancer, of the excited voices of the\n guests and the emphatic disapproval of the Venusian proprietor who\n was shocked at having a brawl in his ultra-expensive, ultra-exclusive\n Palace.\n\n\n \"Better come to Headquarters with me, Dennis,\" the lieutenant said\n gently. \"We'll say you captured him, and if he's Koerber's, the\n credit's yours. A trip to Terra's what you need, Venus for you is a\n hoodoo!\"\nThe stern, white haired I.S.P. Commander behind the immense Aluminil\n desk, frowned slightly as Dennis Brooke entered. He eyed the six foot\n four frame of the Captain before him with a mixture of feelings, as\n if uncertain how to begin. Finally, he sighed as if, having come to a\n decision, he were forcing himself to speak:\n\n\n \"Sit down, Dennis. I've sent for you, despite your grounding, for\n two reasons. The first one you already know—your capture of one of\n Koerber's henchmen—has given us a line as to his present orbit of\n piracy, and the means of a check on his activities. But that's not\n really why I've brought you here.\" He frowned again as if what he had\n to say were difficult indeed.\n\n\n \"Marla Starland, your fiancee, accepted an assignment we offered her—a\n delicate piece of work here on Terra that only a very beautiful, and\n very clever young lady could perform. And,\" he paused, grimacing,\n \"somewhere between Venus and Terra, the interplanetary spacer bringing\n her and several other passengers, began to send distress signals.\n Finally, we couldn't contact the ship any more. It is three days\n overdue. All passengers, a cargo of radium from Venus worth untold\n millions, the spacer itself—seem to have vanished.\"\n\n\n Dennis Brooke's space-tanned features had gone pale. His large hazel\n eyes, fringed with auburn lashes, too long for a man, were bright slits\n that smouldered. He stood silent, his hands clenched at his sides,\n while something cold and sharp seemed to dig at his heart with cruel\n precision.\n\n\n \"Marla!\" He breathed at last. The thought of Marla in the power\n of Koerber sent a wave of anguish that seared through him like an\n atom-blast.\n\n\n \"Commander,\" Dennis said, and his rich baritone voice had depths of\n emotion so great that they startled Commander Bertram himself—and\n that grizzled veteran of the I.S.P., had at one time or another known\n every change of torture that could possibly be wrung on a human soul.\n \"Commander, give me one ...\none\nchance at that spawn of unthinkable\n begetting! Let me try, and I promise you ...\" in his torture, Dennis\n was unconsciously banging a knotted fist on the chaste, satiny surface\n of the priceless desk, \"I promise you that I will either bring you\n Koerber, or forfeit my life!\"\n\n\n Commander Bertram nodded his head. \"I brought you here for that\n purpose, son. We have reached a point in our war with Koerber, where\n the last stakes must be played ... and the last stake is death!\"\n\n\n He reached over and flipped up the activator on a small telecast set\n on his desk; instantly the viso-screen lighted up. \"You'll now see\n a visual record of all we know about the passenger spacer that left\n Venus with passengers and cargo, as far as we could contact the vessel\n in space. This, Dennis,\" the Commander emphasized his words, \"is your\n chance to redeem yourself!\" He fell silent, while the viso-screen began\n to show a crowded space port on Venus, and a gigantic passenger spacer\n up-tilted in its cradle.\nThey watched the parabola it made in its trajectory as it flashed into\n space and then fell into orbit there beyond the planetary attraction of\n Venus. On the three-dimensional viso-screen it was uncannily real.\n\n\n A flight that had taken many hours to accomplish, was shortened on\n the viso-screen to a matter of minutes. They saw the great, proud\n interplanetary transport speeding majestically through the starry void,\n and suddenly, they saw her swerve in a great arc; again she swerved\n as if avoiding something deadly in space, and point upwards gaining\n altitude. It was zig-zagging now, desperately maneuvering in an erratic\n course, and as if by magic, a tiny spot appeared on the transport's\n side.\n\n\n Tiny on the viso-screen, the fatal spots must have been huge in\n actuality. To the Commander of the I.S.P., and to Captain Brooke, it\n was an old story. Atom-blasts were pitting the spacer's hull with\n deadly Genton shells. The great transport trembled under the impact of\n the barrage, and suddenly, the screen went blank.\n\n\n Commander Bertram turned slowly to face the young I.S.P. captain, whose\n features were a mask devoid of all expression now, save for the pallor\n and the burning fire in his eyes.\n\n\n \"And that's the sixth one in a month. Sometimes the survivors reach\n Terra in emergency spacers, or are picked up in space by other\n transports ... and sometimes son ... well, as you know, sometimes\n they're never seen again.\"\n\n\n \"When do I leave, Commander!\" Dennis Brooke's voice was like a javelin\n of ice.\n\n\n \"Right now, if you wish. We have a new cruiser armored in beryloid with\n double hull—a new design against Genton shells, but it's the speed\n of the thing that you'll want to know about. It just about surpasses\n anything ever invented. Get the figures and data from the coordination\n room, son; it's serviced and fueled and the crew's aboard.\" He\n extended his hand. \"You're the best spacer we have—aside from your\n recklessness—and on your success depends far more than the capture of\n an outlaw.\" Bertram smiled thinly. \"Happy landing!\"\nII\n\n\n Their nerves were ragged. Days and days of fruitless search for a\n phantom ship that seemed to have vanished from space, and an equally\n elusive pirate whose whereabouts were hidden in the depths of\n fathomless space.\n\n\n To all but Captain Brooke, this was a new adventure, their first\n assignment to duty in a search that went beyond the realm of the\n inner planets, where men spent sleepless nights in eternal vigilance\n against stray asteroids and outlaw crews of ruthless vandal ships. Even\n their cruiser was a new experience, the long, tapering fighter lacked\n the luxurious offices and appointments of the regular I.S.P. Patrol\n spacers. It placed a maximum on speed, and all available space was\n hoarded for fuel. The lightning fast tiger of the space-lanes, was a\n thing of beauty, but of grim, sleek beauty instinct with power, not the\n comfortable luxury that they knew.\n\n\n Day after day they went through their drills, donning space suits,\n manning battle stations; aiming deadly atom-cannon at empty space, and\n eternally scanning the vast empty reaches by means of the telecast.\n\n\n And suddenly, out of the void, as they had all but given up the search\n as a wild goose chase, a speck was limned in the lighted surface of the\n viso-screen in the control room. Instantly the I.S.P. cruiser came to\n life. In a burst of magnificent speed, the cruiser literally devoured\n the space leagues, until the spacer became a flashing streak. On the\n viso-screen, the speck grew larger, took on contours, growing and\n becoming slowly the drifting shell of what had been a transport.\n\n\n Presently they were within reaching distance, and Captain Brooke\n commanded through the teleradio from the control room:\n\n\n \"Prepare to board!\"\n\n\n Every member of the crew wanted to be among the boarding party, for\n all but George Randall, the junior member of the crew had served his\n apprenticeship among the inner planets, Mars, Venus and Terra. He felt\n nauseated at the very thought of going out there in that vast abyss of\n space. His young, beardless face, with the candid blue eyes went pale\n when the order was given. But presently, Captain Brooke named those who\n were to go beside himself:\n\n\n \"You, Tom and Scotty, take one emergency plane, and Dallas!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Captain!\" Dallas Bernan, the immense third lieutenant boomed in\n his basso-profundo voice.\n\n\n \"You and I'll take a second emergency!\" There was a pause in the voice\n of the Captain from the control room, then: \"Test space suits. Test\n oxygen helmets! Atom-blasts only, ready in five minutes!\"\n\n\n George Randall breathed a sigh of relief. He watched them bridge the\n space to the drifting wreck, then saw them enter what had once been a\n proud interplanetary liner, now soon to be but drifting dust, and he\n turned away with a look of shame.\n\n\n Inside the liner, Captain Dennis Brooke had finished making a detailed\n survey.\n\n\n \"No doubt about it,\" he spoke through the radio in his helmet. \"Cargo\n missing. No survivors. No indication that the repulsion fields were\n out of order. And finally, those Genton shells could only have been\n fired by Koerber!\" He tried to maintain a calm exterior, but inwardly\n he seethed in a cold fury more deadly than any he had ever experienced.\n Somehow he had expected to find at least one compartment unharmed,\n where life might have endured, but now, all hope was gone. Only a great\n resolve to deal with Koerber once and for all remained to him.\n\n\n Dennis tried not to think of Marla, too great an ache was involved in\n thinking of her and all he had lost. When he finally spoke, his voice\n was harsh, laconic:\n\n\n \"Prepare to return!\"\n\n\n Scotty Byrnes, the cruiser's nurse, who could take his motors through a\n major battle, or hell and high water and back again, for that matter,\n shifted the Venusian weed that made a perpetual bulge on his cheek and\n gazed curiously at Captain Brooke. They all knew the story in various\n versions, and with special additions. But they were spacemen, implicit\n in their loyalty, and with Dennis Brooke they could and did feel safe.\n\n\n Tom Jeffery, the tall, angular and red-faced Navigator, whose slow,\n easygoing movements belied the feral persistence of a tiger, and the\n swiftness of a striking cobra in a fight, led the small procession of\n men toward the emergency planes. Behind him came Dallas Bernan, third\n lieutenant, looming like a young asteroid in his space suit, followed\n by Scotty, and finally Captain Brooke himself. All left in silence, as\n if the tragedy that had occurred aboard the wrecked liner, had touched\n them intimately.\nAboard the I.S.P. Cruiser, a surprise awaited them. It was young George\n Randall, whose excited face met them as soon as they had entered the\n airlocks and removed the space suits.\n\n\n \"Captain Brooke ... Captain, recordings are showing on the new 'Jet\n Analyzers' must be the trail of some spacer. Can't be far!\" He was\n fairly dancing in his excitement, as if the marvelous work of the\n new invention that detected the disturbance of atomic jets at great\n distance were his own achievement.\n\n\n Dennis Brooke smiled. His own heart was hammering, and inwardly he\n prayed that it were Koerber. It had to be! No interplanetary passenger\n spacer could possibly be out here at the intersection of angles Kp\n 39 degrees, 12 minutes, Fp 67 degrees of Ceres elliptic plane. None\n but a pirate crew with swift battle cruisers could dare! This was the\n dangerous asteroid belt, where even planetoids drifted in eccentric\n uncharted orbits.\n\n\n Dennis, Tom Jeffery and Scotty Byrnes raced to the control room,\n followed by the ponderous Dallas to whom hurry in any form was\n anathema. There could be no doubt now! The \"Jet Analyzer\" recorded\n powerful disturbance, atomic—could be nothing else.\n\n\n Instantly Captain Brooke was at the inter-communication speaker:\n\n\n \"Crew, battle stations! Engine room, full speed!\"\n\n\n Scotty Byrnes was already dashing to the engine room, where his beloved\n motors purred with an ascending hum. Aboard the I.S.P. Cruiser each\n member of the crew raced to his assigned task without delay. Action\n impended, and after days and nights of inertia, it was a blessed\n relief. Smiles appeared on haggard faces, and the banter of men\n suddenly galvanized by a powerful incentive was bandied back and forth.\n All but George Randall. Now that action was imminent. Something gripped\n his throat until he could hardly stand the tight collar of his I.S.P.\n uniform. A growing nausea gripped his bowels, and although he strove to\n keep calm, his hands trembled beyond control.\n\n\n In the compact, super-armored control room, Captain Brooke watched\n the telecast's viso-screen, with hungry eyes that were golden with\n anticipation. It seemed to him as if an eternity passed before at\n last, a black speck danced on the illuminated screen, until it finally\n reached the center of the viso-screen and remained there. It grew by\n leaps and bounds as the terrific speed of the cruiser minimized the\n distance long before the quarry was aware of pursuit.\n\n\n But at last, when the enemy cruiser showed on the viso-screen,\n unmistakably for what it was—a pirate craft, it showed by its sudden\n maneuver that it had detected the I.S.P. cruiser. For it had described\n a parabola in space and headed for the dangerous asteroid belt. As if\n navigated by a masterly hand that knew each and every orbit of the\n asteroids, it plunged directly into the asteroid drift, hoping to lose\n the I.S.P. cruiser with such a maneuver. Ordinarily, it would have\n succeeded, no I.S.P. patrol ship would have dared to venture into such\n a trap without specific orders. But to Dennis Brooke, directing the\n chase from the control room, even certain death was welcome, if only he\n could take Koerber with him.\n\n\n Weaving through the deadly belt for several hours, Dennis saw his\n quarry slow down. Instantly he seized the chance and ordered a salvo\n from starboard. Koerber's powerful spacer reeled, dived and came up\n spewing Genton-shells. The battle was on at last.\n\n\n From the banked atom-cannon of the I.S.P. Cruiser, a deadly curtain\n of atomic fire blazed at the pirate craft. A ragged rent back toward\n midship showed on Koerber's Cruiser which trembled as if it had been\n mortally wounded. Then Dennis maneuvered his cruiser into a power\n dive as a rain of Genton-shells swept the space lane above him, but as\n he came up, a lone shell struck. At such close range, super-armor was\n ripped, second armor penetrated and the magnificent vessel shook under\n the detonating impact.\n\n\n It was then that Dennis Brooke saw the immense dark shadow looming\n immediately behind Koerber's ship. He saw the pirate cruiser zoom\n desperately in an effort to break the gravity trap of the looming mass,\n but too late. It struggled like a fly caught in a spider-web to no\n avail. It was then that Koerber played his last card. Sensing he was\n doomed, he tried to draw the I.S.P. Cruiser down with him. A powerful\n magnetic beam lashed out to spear the I.S.P. Cruiser.\nWith a wrenching turn that almost threw them out of control, Dennis\n maneuvered to avoid the beam. Again Koerber's beam lashed out, as he\n sank lower into the looming mass, and again Dennis anticipating the\n maneuver avoided it.\n\n\n \"George Randall!\" He shouted desperately into the speaker. \"Cut all\n jets in the rocket room! Hurry, man!\" He banked again and then zoomed\n out of the increasing gravity trap.\n\n\n \"Randall! I've got to use the magnetic repulsion plates.... Cut all the\n jets!\" But there was no response. Randall's screen remained blank. Then\n Koerber's lashing magnetic beam touched and the I.S.P. ship was caught,\n forced to follow the pirate ship's plunge like the weight at the end of\n a whiplash. Koerber's gunners sent one parting shot, an atom-blast that\n shook the trapped cruiser like a leaf.\n\n\n Beneath them, growing larger by the second, a small world rushed up to\n meet them. The readings in the Planetograph seemed to have gone crazy.\n It showed diameter 1200 miles; composition mineral and radio-active.\n Gravity seven-eighths of Terra. It couldn't be! Unless perhaps this\n unknown planetoid was the legendary core of the world that at one time\n was supposed to have existed between Jupiter and Mars. Only that could\n possibly explain the incredible gravity.\n\n\n And then began another type of battle. Hearing the Captain's orders to\n Randall, and noting that no result had been obtained, Scotty Byrnes\n himself cut the jets. The Magnetic Repulsion Plates went into action,\n too late to save them from being drawn, but at least they could prevent\n a crash. Far in the distance they could see Koerber's ship preceding\n them in a free fall, then the Planetoid was rushing up to engulf them.\nIII\n\n\n The atmosphere was somewhat tenuous, but it was breathable, provided\n a man didn't exert himself. To the silent crew of the I.S.P. Cruiser,\n the strange world to which Koerber's magnetic Beam had drawn them,\n was anything but reassuring. Towering crags jutted raggedly against\n the sky, and the iridescent soil of the narrow valley that walled in\n the cruiser, had a poisonous, deadly look. As far as their eyes could\n reach, the desolate, denuded vista stretched to the horizon.\n\n\n \"Pretty much of a mess!\" Dennis Brooke's face was impassive as he\n turned to Scotty Byrnes. \"What's your opinion? Think we can patch her\n up, or are we stuck here indefinitely?\"\n\n\n Scotty eyed the damage. The atom-blast had penetrated the hull into\n the forward fuel chambers and the armor had blossomed out like flower\n petals. The crash-landing had not helped either.\n\n\n \"Well, there's a few beryloid plates in the storage locker, Captain,\n but,\" he scratched his head ruminatively and shifted his precious cud.\n\n\n \"But what? Speak up man!\" It was Tom Jeffery, his nerves on edge, his\n ordinarily gentle voice like a lash.\n\n\n \"But, you may as well know it,\" Scotty replied quietly. \"That parting\n shot of Koerber's severed our main rocket feed. I had to use the\n emergency tank to make it down here!\"\n\n\n For a long moment the four men looked at each other in silence. Dennis\n Brooke's face was still impassive but for the flaming hazel eyes. Tom\n tugged at the torn sleeve of his I.S.P. uniform, while Scotty gazed\n mournfully at the damaged ship. Dallas Bernan looked at the long,\n ragged line of cliffs.\n\n\n \"I think we got Koerber, though,\" he said at last. \"While Tom was doing\n a job of navigation, I had one last glimpse of him coming down fast\n and out of control somewhere behind those crags over there!\"\n\n\n \"To hell with Koerber!\" Tom Jeffery exploded. \"You mean we're stuck in\n this hellish rock-pile?\"\n\n\n \"Easy, Tom!\" Captain Brooke's tones were like ice. On his pale,\n impassive face, his eyes were like flaming topaz. \"Where's Randall?\"\n\n\n \"Probably hiding his head under a bunk!\" Dallas laughed with scorn. His\n contemptuous remark voiced the feelings of the entire crew. A man who\n failed to be at his battle-station in time of emergency, had no place\n in the I.S.P.\n\n\n \"Considering the gravity of this planetoid,\" Dennis Brooke said\n thoughtfully, \"it's going to take some blast to get us off!\"\n\n\n \"Maybe we can locate a deposit of anerioum or uranium or something for\n our atom-busters to chew on!\" Scotty said hopefully. He was an eternal\n optimist.\n\n\n \"Better break out those repair plates,\" Dennis said to Scotty. \"Tom,\n you get the welders ready. I've got a few entries to make in the log\n book, and then we'll decide on a party to explore the terrain and try\n to find out what happened to Koerber's ship. I must know,\" he said in a\n low voice, but with such passion that the others were startled.\n\n\n A figure appeared in the slanting doorway of the ship in time to hear\n the last words. It was George Randall, adjusting a bandaged forehead\n bumped during the crash landing.\n\n\n \"Captain ... I ... I wanted ...\" he paused unable to continue.\n\n\n \"You wanted what?\" Captain Brooke's voice was terse. \"Perhaps you\n wanted to explain why you weren't at your battle station?\"\n\n\n \"Sir, I wanted to know if ... if I might help Scotty with the welding\n job....\" That wasn't at all what he'd intended to say. But somehow the\n words had stuck in his throat and his face flushed deep scarlet. His\n candid blue eyes were suspiciously brilliant, and the white bandage\n with its crimson stains made an appealing, boyish figure. It softened\n the anger in Brooke's heart. Thinking it over calmly, Dennis realized\n this was the youngster's first trip into the outer orbits, and better\n men than he had cracked in those vast reaches of space. But there had\n been an instant when he'd found Randall cowering in the rocket-room, in\n the grip of paralyzing hysteria, when he could cheerfully have wrung\n his neck!\n\n\n \"Certainly, Randall,\" he replied in a much more kindly tone. \"We'll\n need all hands now.\"\n\n\n \"Thank you, sir!\" Randall seemed to hesitate for a moment, opened his\n mouth to speak further, but feeling the other's calculating gaze upon\n him, he whirled and re-entered the ship.\n\n\n \"But for him we wouldn't be here!\" Dallas exclaimed. \"Aagh!\" He shook\n his head in disgust until the several folds of flesh under his chin\n shook like gelatin. \"Cowards are hell!\" He spat.\n\n\n \"Easy, Dallas, Randall's a kid, give 'im a chance.\" Dennis observed.\n\n\n \"You Captain ... you're defending 'im? Why you had a greater stake in\n this than we, and he's spoiled it for you!\"\n\n\n \"Yep,\" Dennis nodded. \"But I'm still keeping my senses clear. No feuds\n on my ship. Get it!\" The last two words cut like a scimitar.\n\n\n Dallas nodded and lowered his eyes. Scotty shifted his cud and spat\n a thin stream of juice over the iridescent ground. One by one they\n re-entered the cruiser.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Where did Marla end up?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_1", "options": ["Drifting in space, possibly in very  small pieces.", "She went to work as a dancer in the Jovian Chamber.", "She left Dennis and went to Earth for a new job.", "She broke up with Dennis and married someone else on Venus."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Other than the expense, what had been the downside for Dennis of spending a night in the Jovian Chamber?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_2", "options": ["The price was a rip-off because there were no private rooms left and they wouldn't give him a refund.", "He missed a call-out to help capture a space pirate, plus a Martian mugged him and took all his money.", "He missed a call-out to help capture a space pirate and was disciplined by his employer, plus he lost his girlfriend.", "The hypnotics used to induce pleasure are very addictive, and he had to go into rehab."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What phrase mostly closely captures why the Martian who attacks Dennis seems to hate him so much?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_3", "options": ["Martians, as a race, hate Terrans - all Terrans - because they view them as colonial oppressors preventing their freedom.", "On Mars, hazel eyes such as Dennis' are considered a socio-economic indicator of a class Martians view as having caused all their problems.", "The Martian is jealous of Dennis because of the Mercurean dancer at the bar who is coming on to him.", "Dennis and the Martian have had previous run-ins over women and the Martian thinks Dennis owes him money from a billiards game."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the bar brawl end up being a net positive event for Dennis?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_4", "options": ["Because the Martian was a space pirate, and the police were pleased at being able to grab him, and gave Dennis the credit.", "Because on Venus, a criminal's personal effects are given to the crime victim, so Dennis acquired an expensive tunic trimmed in ocelandian fur, and a costly acerine ring.", "Because a huge money roll fell out of the Martian's pocket during the fight, and afterward, Dennis noticed it and pocketed it.", "The bartender paid his tab out of gratitude for ridding them of the troublemaking Martian."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the dancer respond to Dennis' victory over the Martian?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_5", "options": ["She gave him a poisonous look.", "She offered Dennis free services for a week.", "She gave him a come-hither look and they had a great time.", "She gave him a quick salute, blew him a kiss and returned to dancing, as she needed to keep her job."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who told Dennis what happened to Marla's space ship?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_6", "options": ["Randall", "Bertram", "Starland", "Brooks"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the commander think about the danger level of the mission he gave to Dennis?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_7", "options": ["He thought of the mission as part of Dennis' punishment for not being ready to nab Koerber earlier.", "He thought it would be an easy out and back, since Koerber was low on supplies.", "He considered it just another day in the life of an I.S.P. officer.", "He thought there was a pretty good chance Dennis would die during the mission."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the most noteworthy feature of the spaceship provided for Dennis and his crew to chase down Koerber?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_8", "options": ["It's just about the fastest ship out in space, a huge advantage.", "It's the first I.S.P. ship with artificial gravity.", "The beryloid double-hull design.", "The most important part of any ship is always the same:the crew."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Dennis' crew do with their spare time while they were trying to find the pirate ship?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_9", "options": ["The new ship was also the first with ship-to-shore internet, so they could watch videos in their spare time.", "They didn't have any spare time. They ran training exercises on procedures and weapons over and over to be ready.", "All the hands spent their spare time doing exercises to keep their muscles strong in space.", "The crew was kept busy in their spare time fixing all the systems that didn't really work right on this brand new ship."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did George Randall's failure to follow orders result in Dennis' ship being pulled down to the planetoid?", "question_unique_id": "63150_Z3E7PK9T_10", "options": ["The jets needed to be turned on and off at specific times to use the planetoid as a slingshot to catch Koerber. Since they got power at the wrong time, they were propelled to the planetoid's surface.", "Since George Randall didn't follow the order to cut jets, that meant another crewman had to do it, which meant that crewman couldn't do his own job of positioning the magnetic repulsion plates.", "With the jets still on, the magnetic repulsion plates could not be activated, resulting in them being tractored in by Koerber's ship.", "With the jets still on, their ship could not \"run silent\" and avoid detection by Koerber's ship."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0035", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/1/5/63150//63150-h//63150-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63645", "set_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1013", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Last Monster", "year": 1953, "author": "Fox, Gardner F. (Gardner Francis)", "topic": "Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction; Science fiction; Immortality -- Fiction; PS; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction", "article": "The Last Monster\nBy GARDNER F. FOX\nIrgi was the last of his monster race, guardian of\n\n a dead planet, master of the secret of immortality.\n\n It was he whom the four men from Earth had to\n\n conquer to gain that secret—a tentacled\n\n monstrosity whom Earthly weapons could not touch.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Fall 1945.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nIrgi was the last of his race. There was no one else, now; there had\n been no others for hundreds and hundreds of years. Irgi had lost count\n of time dwelling alone amid the marble halls of the eon-ancient city,\n but he knew that much. There were no others.\n\n\n Only Irgi, alone.\n\n\n He moved now along the ebony flooring, past the white marble walls hung\n with golden drapes that never withered or shed their aurate luster in\n the opalescent mists that bathed the city in shimmering whiteness. They\n hung low, those wispy tendrils of mist, clasping everything in their\n clinging shelter, destroying dust and germs. Irgi had discovered the\n mist many years ago, when it was too late to save his kind.\n\n\n He had flung a vast globe of transparent metal above this greatest of\n the cities of the Urg and filled it with the mist, and in it he had\n stored the treasures of his people. From Bar Nomala, from Faryl, and\n from the far-off jungle city of Kreed had he brought the riches of the\n Urg and set them up. Irgi enjoyed beauty, and he enjoyed work. It was\n the combination of both that kept him sane.\n\n\n Toward a mighty bronze doorway he went, and as his body passed an\n invisible beam, the bronze portals slid apart, noiselessly, opening to\n reveal a vast circular chamber that hummed and throbbed, and was filled\n with a pale blue luminescence that glimmered upon metal rods and bars\n and ten tall cones of steelite.\n\n\n In the doorway, Irgi paused and ran his eyes about the chamber, sighing.\n\n\n This was his life work, this blue hum and throb. Those ten cones\n lifting their disced tips toward a circular roof bathed in, and drew\n their power from, a huge block of radiant white matter that hung\n suspended between the cones, in midair. All power did the cones and the\n block possess. There was nothing they could not do, if Irgi so willed.\n It was another discovery that came too late to save the Urg.\n\n\n Irgi moved across the room. He pressed glittering jewels inset in a\n control panel on the wall, one after another, in proper sequence.\n\n\n The blue opalescence deepened, grew dark and vivid. The hum broadened\n into a hoarse roar. And standing out, startlingly white against the\n blue, was the queer block of shining metal, shimmering and pulsing.\n\n\n Irgi drew himself upwards, slowly turning, laving in the quivering\n bands of cobalt that sped outward from the cones. He preened his body\n in their patterns of color, watching it splash and spread over his\n chest and torso. Where it touched, a faint tingle lingered; then spread\n outwards, all over his huge form.\n\n\n Irgi was immortal, and the blue light made him so.\n\n\n \"There, it is done,\" he whispered to himself. \"Now for another oval I\n can roam all Urg as I will, for the life spark in me has been cleansed\n and nourished.\"\n\n\n He touched the jeweled controls, shutting the power to a low murmur. He\n turned to the bronze doors, passed through and into the misty halls.\n\n\n \"I must speak,\" Irgi said as he moved along the corridor. \"I have not\n spoken for many weeks. I must exercise my voice, or lose it. That is\n the law of nature. It would atrophy, otherwise.\n\n\n \"Yes, I will use my voice tonight, and I will go out under the dome and\n look up at the stars and the other planets that swing near Urg, and I\n will talk to them and tell them how lonely Irgi is.\"\n\n\n He turned and went along a hall that opened into a broad balcony which\n stood forth directly beneath a segment of the mighty dome. He stared\n upwards, craning all his eyes to see through the darkness pressing down\n upon him.\n\n\n \"Stars,\" he whispered, \"listen to me once again. I am lonely, stars,\n and the name and fame of Irgi means nothing to the walls of my city,\n nor to the Chamber of the Cones, nor even—at times—to Irgi himself.\"\n\n\n He paused and his eyes widened, staring upwards.\n\n\n \"By the Block,\" he said to the silence about him. \"There is something\n up there that is not a star, nor a planet, nor yet a meteor.\"\n\n\n It was a spaceship.\nEmerson took his hands from the controls of the gigantic ship that\n hurtled through space, and wiped his sweaty palms on his thighs. His\n grey eyes bored like a steel awl downward at the mighty globe swinging\n in the void.\n\n\n \"The last planet in our course,\" he breathed. \"Maybe it has the radium!\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" whispered the man beside him, wetting his lips with his tongue.\n \"No use to think of failure. If it hasn't, we'll die ourselves, down\n there.\"\n\n\n Radium. And the Plague. It had come on Earth suddenly, had the Plague,\n back in the first days of space travel, after Quigg, the American\n research scientist at Cal Tech, discovered a way to lift a rocket ship\n off the Earth, and propel it to the Moon.\n\n\n They had been slow, lumbering vessels, those first spaceships; not at\n all like the sleek craft that plied the voids today. But it had been a\n beginning. And no one had thought anything of it when Quigg, who had\n made the first flight through space, died of cancer.\n\n\n As the years passed to a decade, and the ships of Earth rode to Mars\n and Venus, it began to be apparent that a lifetime of space travel\n meant a hideous death. Scientists attributed it to the cosmic rays, for\n out in space there was no blanketing layer of atmosphere to protect\n the fleshy tissues of man from their piercing power. It had long been\n a theory that cosmic rays were related to the birth of new life in the\n cosmos; perhaps they were, said some, the direct cause of life. Thus by\n causing the unorderly growth of new cells that man called cancer, the\n cosmic rays were destroying the life they had created.\n\n\n It meant death to travel in space, and only the stupendous fees paid to\n the young men who believed in a short life and a merry one, kept the\n ships plying between Mars and Earth and Venus. Lead kept out the cosmic\n rays, but lead would not stand the terrific speed required to lift a\n craft free of planetary gravity; and an inner coating of lead brought\n men into port raving with lead poisoning illusions.\n\n\n Cancer cases increased on Earth. It was learned that the virulent\n form of space cancer, as it was called, was in some peculiar manner,\n contagious to a certain extent. The alarm spread. Men who voyaged in\n space were segregated, but the damage had been done.\n\n\n The Plague spread, and ravaged the peoples of three planets.\n\n\n Hospitals were set up, and precious radium used for the fight. But the\n radium was hard to come by. There was just not enough for the job.\n\n\n A ship was built, the fastest vessel ever made by man. It was designed\n for speed. It made the swiftest interplanetary craft seem a lumbering\n barge by comparison. And mankind gave it to Valentine Emerson to take\n it out among the stars to find the precious radium in sufficient\n quantities to halt the Plague.\n\n\n It had not been easy to find a crew. The three worlds knew the men\n were going to their doom. It would be a miracle if ever they reached\n a single planet, if they did not perish of space cancer before their\n first goal. Carson Nichols, whose wife and children were dying of the\n Plague, begged him for a chance. A murderer convicted to the Martian\n salt mines, Karl Mussdorf, grudgingly agreed to go along on the promise\n that he won a pardon if he ever came back. With Mussdorf went a little,\n wry-faced man named Tilford Gunn, who knew radio, cookery, and the fine\n art of pocket-picking. The two seemed inseparable.\n\n\n Now Emerson was breathing softly, \"Yes, it had better be there, or else\n we die.\"\n\n\n He ran quivering fingers over his forearm, felt the strange lumps that\n heralded cancer. Involuntarily, he shuddered.\n\n\n Steps clanged on the metal runway beneath them. Mussdorf pushed up\n through the trap and got to his feet. He was as big as Emerson, bulky\n where Emerson was lithe, granite where Emerson was chiseled steel. His\n hair was black, and his brows shaggy. A stubborn jaw shot out under\n thin, hard lips.\n\n\n \"There it is, Karl,\" said Nichols. \"Start hoping.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf scowled darkly, and spat.\n\n\n \"A hell of a way to spend my last days,\" he growled. \"I'm dying on my\n feet, and I've got to be a martyr to a billion people who don't know\n I'm alive.\"\n\n\n \"You know a better way to die, of course,\" replied Emerson.\n\n\n \"You bet I do. There's a sweet little redhead in New Mars. She'd make\n dying a pleasure. In fact,\" he chuckled softly, \"that's just the way\n I'd let her kill me.\"\nEmerson snorted, glancing down at the controls. Beneath his steady\n fingers, the ship sideslipped into the gravity tug of the looming orb,\n shuddered a moment, then eased downward.\n\n\n \"Tell Gunn to come up,\" ordered Emerson. \"No need for him to be below.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf dropped to the floor, lowered his shaggy head through the open\n trap, and bellowed. A hail from the depths of the ship answered him. A\n moment later, Gunn stood with the others: a little man with a wry smile\n twisting his features to a hard mask.\n\n\n \"Think she's got the stuff, skipper?\" he asked Emerson.\n\n\n \"The spectroscope'll tell us. Break it out.\"\n\n\n \"You bet.\"\n\n\n The ship rocked gently as Emerson set it down on a flat, rocky plain\n between two high, craggy mountains that rose abruptly from the tiny\n valley. It was just lighting as the faint rays of the suns that served\n this planet nosed their way above the peaks. Like a silver needle on a\n floor of black rock, the spacecraft bounced once, twice; then lay still.\n\n\n Within her gleaming walls, four men bent with hard faces over gleaming\n bands of color on a spectroscopic screen. With quivering fingers,\n Emerson twisted dials and switches.\n\n\n \"Hell!\" exploded Mussdorf. \"I might have known it. Not a trace.\"\n\n\n Emerson touched his forearm gently, and shuddered.\n\n\n Nichols bit his lips, and thought of Marge and the kids; Gunn licked\n his lips with a dry tongue and kept looking at Emerson.\n\n\n With one sweep of his brawny arm, Mussdorf sent the apparatus flying\n against the far wall to shatter in shards.\n\n\n No one said a word.\n\n\n Something whispered in the ship. They jerked their heads up, stood\n listening. The faint susurration swept all about them, questioning,\n curious. It came again, imperative; suddenly demanding.\n\n\n \"Gawd,\" whispered Gunn. \"Wot is it, guv'nor?\"\n\n\n Emerson shook his head, frowning, suddenly glad that the others had\n heard it, too.\n\n\n \"Maybe somebody trying to speak to us,\" stated Nichols.\n\n\n The whispers grew louder and harsher. Angry.\n\n\n \"Take it easy,\" yelled Mussdorf savagely. \"We don't know what you're\n talking about. How can we answer you, you stupid lug?\"\n\n\n Gunn giggled hysterically, \"We can't even 'alf talk 'is bloomin'\n language.\"\n\n\n The rustle ceased. The silence hung eerily in the ship. The men looked\n at one another, curious; somehow, a little nervous.\n\n\n \"What a radio\nhe\nmust have,\" said Emerson softly. \"The metal of our\n hull is his loudspeaker. That's why we heard him in all directions.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf nodded, shaggy brows knotted.\n\n\n \"We'll see what his next move is,\" he muttered. \"If he gets too fresh,\n we'll try a sun-blaster out on him.\"\n\n\n The ship began to glow softly, flushing a soft, delicate green. The\n light bathed the interior, turning the men a ghastly hue. Gunn shivered\n and looked at Emerson, who went to the port window; stood staring out,\n gasping.\n\n\n \"Wot's happenin' now?\" choked Gunn.\n\n\n \"We're off the ground! Whatever it is, it's lifting us.\"\n\n\n The others crowded about him, looking out. Here the green was more\n vivid, intense. They could feel its surging power tingling on their\n skins. Beneath them, the jagged peak of the mountain almost grazed the\n hull. Spread out under their eyes was the panorama of a dead planet.\n\n\n Great rocks lay split and tumbled over one another in a black\n desolation. Sunlight glinting on their jagged edges, made harsh\n shadows. Far to the north a mountain range shrugged its snow-topped\n peaks to a sullen sky. To the south, beyond the rocks, lay a white\n waste of desert. To the west—\n\n\n \"A city,\" yelled Nichols, \"the place is inhabited. Thank God, thank\n God—\"\n\n\n Mussdorf erupted laughter.\n\n\n \"For what? How do we know what they're like? An inhabited planet\n doesn't mean men. We found that out—several times.\"\n\n\n \"We can hope,\" said Emerson sharply. \"Maybe they have some radium,\n stored so that our spectroscope couldn't pick it up.\"\n\n\n The mighty globe that hung over the city glimmered in the morning suns.\n Beneath it, the white towers and spires of the city reared in alien\n loveliness above graceful buildings and rounded roofs. A faint mist\n seemed to hang in the city streets.\n\n\n \"It's empty,\" said Nichols heavily. \"Deserted.\"\n\n\n \"Something's alive,\" protested Emerson. \"Something that spoke to us,\n that is controlling this green beam.\"\nA section of the globe slid back, and the spaceship moved through the\n opening. The globe slipped back and locked after it.\n\n\n \"They have us now,\" grunted Mussdorf. He slid his fingers along the\n transparent window, pressing hard, the skin showing white as his\n knuckles lifted. He said swiftly, \"You guys can stay here if you want,\n but I'm getting myself a sun-blaster. Two of them. I'm not going to be\n caught short when the time for action comes.\"\n\n\n He swung through the trap and out of sight. They heard him running\n below; heard the slam of opened doors, the withdrawal of the guns. They\n could imagine him belting them about his waist.\n\n\n \"Bring us some,\" cried Emerson suddenly, and turned again to look out\n the window.\n\n\n The spaceship settled down on the white flagging of an immense square.\n The green beam was gone, suddenly. The uncanny silence of the place\n pressed in on them.\n\n\n \"Think it's safe to go out?\" asked Nichols.\n\n\n \"Try the atmospheric recorder,\" said Emerson. \"If the air's okay, I'd\n like to stretch my own legs.\"\n\n\n Nichols twisted chrome wheels, staring at a red line that wavered on a\n plastic screen, then straightened abruptly, rigid.\n\n\n \"Hey,\" yelled Nichols excitedly. \"It's pure. I mean actually pure. No\n germs. No dust. Just clean air!\"\n\n\n Emerson leaped to his side, staring, frowning.\n\n\n \"No germs. No dust. Why—that means there's no disease in this place!\n No disease.\"\n\n\n He began to laugh, then caught himself.\n\n\n \"No disease,\" he whispered, \"and every one of us is going to die of\n cancer.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf came up through the trap and passed out the sun-blasters. They\n buckled them around their waists while Mussdorf swung the bolts of the\n door. He threw it open, and clean air, and faint tendrils of whitish\n mist came swirling into the ship.\n\n\n Nichols took a deep breath and his boyish face split with a grin.\n\n\n \"I feel like a kid again on a Spring day back on Earth. You know, with\n a ball and a glove under your arm, with the sun beating down on you,\n swinging a bat and whistling. You felt good. You were young. Young! I\n feel like that now.\"\n\n\n They grinned and went through the door, dropping to the street.\n\n\n They turned.\n\n\n It was coming across the square, flowing along on vast black tentacles\n towering over twenty feet high, with a great torso seemingly sculpted\n out of living black marble. A head that held ten staring eyes looked\n down at them. Six arms thrust out of the torso, moving like tentacles,\n fringed with cilia thick as fingers.\n\n\n \"Lord,\" whispered Mussdorf. \"What is it?\"\n\n\n \"Don't know,\" said Emerson. \"Maybe it's friendly—\"\n\n\n \"Friendly?\" queried Mussdorf harshly. \"\nThat\ndoesn't know the meaning\n of the word! I'm going to let it taste a blast—\"\n\n\n His hand dove for the sun-blaster in his holster; yanked it free and\n upward, firing brilliant yellow jets as he jerked the trigger.\n\n\n \"Look\nout\n!\" yelled Emerson.\n\n\n The thing twisted sideways with an eerie grace, dodging the amber beams\n of solar power that sizzled past its bulbous head. As it moved, its\n tentacled arms and legs slithered out with unthinkable rapidity, fell\n and wrapped around Mussdorf.\n\n\n The big Earthman was lifted high into the air, squeezed until his lungs\n nearly collapsed. He hung limp in a gigantic tentacle as Emerson ran\n to one side, trying for a shot without hitting Mussdorf. But the thing\n was diabolically clever. It held Mussdorf aloft, between itself and\n Emerson, while its other arms stabbed out at Gunn and Nichols, catching\n them up and shaking them as a terrier shakes a rat.\n\n\n \"Hold on,\" called Emerson, dodging and twisting, gun in hand, seeking a\n spot to fire at.\n\n\n The thing dropped the Earthmen suddenly; its legs gathered beneath it\n and launched it full at Emerson. Caught off guard, the Earthman lifted\n his sun-blaster—felt it ripped from his fingers, knew a hard blackness\n thrashing down at him. He went backwards, sickened....\nIrgi stared at the things that lay on the white flagging. Queer beings\n they were, unlike anything Irgi had ever conceived. Only two legs, only\n two arms. And such weak little limbs! Why, an Urgian cat would make\n short work of them if an Urgian cat existed any more, and Irgi had\n never rated cats very highly.\n\n\n He looked at the spaceship, ran exploring feelers over it. He cast a\n glance back at the creatures again, and shook his head. Strange beings\n they might be, but they had mastered interplanetary travel. Well, he'd\n always maintained that life would be different on other worlds. Life\n here on Urg took different patterns.\n\n\n Irgi bent to wrap long arms about the queer beings, lifting them. His\n eyes were caught suddenly by the lumps protruding from their arms and\n legs, from face and chest. The growth disease! That was bad, but Irgi\n knew a way to cure it. Irgi knew a way to cure anything.\n\n\n He slid swiftly across the square and onto a flat, glittering ramp that\n stretched upward toward an arched doorway set like a jewel of light\n in a long, low building next to the vast, round Chamber of the Cones.\n He carried these creatures easily, without trouble. The ease of his\n passage gave him time to think.\n\n\n He had been glad to find these creatures. They were someone to\n converse with after centuries of loneliness. But as he approached them\n there in the square, calling out gladly to them, they could not hear\n him. His voice was pitched eight vibrations to the second. He wondered\n idly if that was beyond the hearing range of these two-legged things.\n He ought to check that, to be sure. Still, they had heard him on their\n ship. He had caught a confused, angry murmur on the radiation recorder.\n Perhaps the metal of the hull had in some manner made his voice audible\n to them, speeded up the vibrations to twelve or fifteen a second.\n\n\n Then there was the matter of the growth disease. He could eliminate\n that easily enough, in the Chamber of the Cones. But first they would\n have to be prepared. And the preparation—hurt. Well, better a few\n moments of agony than a death through a worse.\n\n\n And if he could not speak to them, they could speak to him, through\n their minds. Once unconscious, he could tap their memories with an\n electrigraph screen. That should be absorbing. It made Irgi happy,\n reflecting upon it, and Irgi had not known happiness for a long time.\n\n\n From the passage he hurried into a large white room, fitted with glass\n vials and ovules and glittering metal instruments, so many in number\n that the room seemed a jungle of metal. Down on flat, smooth tables\n Irgi dropped his burdens. With quick tendrils he adjusted straps to\n them, bound them securely. From a small, wheeled vehicle he took a\n metal rod and touched it to their foreheads. As it met the flesh, it\n hummed once faintly.\n\n\n \"It's short-circulated their nervous systems for a while, absorbed the\n electric charges all intelligent beings cast,\" Irgi said aloud, glad at\n this chance to exercise his voice. \"They won't be able to feel for some\n time. When the worst pain will have passed, they will recover. And now\n to examine their minds—\"\n\n\n He fitted metal clamps over their heads and screwed them tight. He\n wheeled forward a glassy screen; plugged in the cords that dangled from\n its frame to the metal clamps.\n\n\n \"I wonder if they've perfected this,\" Irgi mused. \"They must be aware\n that the brain gives off electrical waves. Perhaps they can chart\n those waves on graphs. But do they know that each curve and bend of\n those waves represents a picture? I can translate those waves into\n pictures—but can they?\"\n\n\n He slouched a little on his tentacles, squatting, gazing at the screen\n as he flipped over a lever.\n\n\n A picture quivered on the screen; grew nebulous, then cleared. Irgi\n found himself staring at a city far vaster than Urg. Grim white\n towers peaked high into the air, and broad, flat ramps circled them,\n interwoven like ribbons in the sunlight. On the tallest and largest\n buildings were great fields of metal painted a dull luster, where\n queerly wrought flying ships landed and took off.\n\n\n The scene changed suddenly. He looked into a hospital room and watched\n a pretty young woman smiling up at him. She too, had the growth\n disease. Now he beheld the mighty salt mines where naked men swung huge\n picks at the crusted crystals, sweating and dying under a strange sun.\n Even these remnants of humanity festered with the growth.\n\n\n A tall, lean man in white looked out at him. His lips moved, and Irgi\n read their meaning. This man spoke to one named Emerson, commissioning\n him with a spaceship, reciting the need of radium, the dread of the\n plague. The thoughts of this Emerson were coming in clearer, as Irgi in\n sudden interest, flipped over different dials. The unspoken thoughts\n pouring into his brain through the screen continued. The words he did\n not understand, but the necessity for radium, and the danger of the\n growth disease he did. The pictures jumbled, grew chameleonesque—\n\n\n Irgi stared upward at a colossal figure graven in lucent white marble.\n He made out the letters chiseled into the base: GEORGE WASHINGTON. He\n wondered idly what this Washington had done, to merit such undying\n fame. He must have created a nation, or saved it. He wished there were\n Urgians alive to build a statue to\nhim\n.\n\n\n He rose suddenly, standing upright on his tentacles, swaying gently.\n Why, he had the power to make himself immortal! These creatures would\n gladly build statues to him! True, he could not create a nation—\nbut\n he could save it\n!\n\n\n Irgi unfastened clamps, and rolled the screen aside. He reached to a\n series of black knobs inset in the wall, and turned them carefully.\n Turning, he saw the figures of the four men stiffen to rigidity as a\n red aura drifted upward from the tabletop, passing through them as if\n they were mist, rising upwards to dissipate in the air near the ceiling.\n\n\n \"That will prepare their bodies for the Chamber of the Cones,\" he said.\n \"When they realize that I am their friend, they will gladly hear my\n counsels!\"\n\n\n Opening the laboratory door, Irgi passed out and closed it behind him.\nIt was the sweat of agony trickling down his forehead and over his eyes\n and cheeks that woke Emerson. He opened his eyes, then clamped them\n shut as his body writhed in pain.\n\n\n \"Oh, Lord!\" he whimpered, bloodying his mouth where his teeth sank into\n his lips.\n\n\n In every fibre of his body sharp lancets cut and dug. In arms and legs\n and chest and belly they twisted and tore. Into the tissues beneath his\n skin, all along the muscles and the bone, the fiery torment played. He\n could not stand it; he could not—\n\n\n He flipped his head to right, to left; saw the others stretched out\n and strapped even as he. They were unconscious. What right had they to\n ignore this agony? Why didn't they share it with him? He opened his\n lips to shriek; then bit down again, hard.\n\n\n Nichols screamed suddenly, his body aching.\n\n\n It woke the others. They too, bellowed and screamed and sobbed, and\n their arms and legs writhed like wild things in a trap.\n\n\n \"Got to get free,\" Emerson panted, straining against the wristbands.\n The hard muscles of his arms ridged with effort, but the straps held.\n He dropped back, sobbing.\n\n\n \"That fiend,\" yelled Mussdorf. \"That ten-eyed, octopus-legged,\n black-hearted spawn of a mismated monster did this to us. Damn him!\n Damn him! If I ever get loose I'll cut his heart out and make him eat\n it.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe—maybe he's vivisecting us,\" moaned Nichols. \"With rays or—or\n something—aagh! I can't stand it!\"\n\n\n \"Hang on, kid,\" gritted Emerson, fighting the straps. \"I think it's\n lessening. Yeah, yeah—it is. It doesn't hurt so much now.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf grunted astonishment.\n\n\n \"You're right. It is lessening. And—hey, one of my arm buckles is\n coming loose. It's torn a little. Maybe I can work it free.\"\n\n\n They turned their heads to watch, biting their lips, the sweat standing\n in colorless beads on their pale foreheads. Mussdorf's thick arm bulged\n its muscles as he wrenched and tugged, panting. A buckle swung outward,\n clanging against the tabletop as it ripped loose. Mussdorf held his arm\n aloft and laughed harsh triumph.\n\n\n \"I'll have you all loose in a second,\" he grunted, ripping straps from\n his body.\n\n\n He leaped from the table and stretched. He grinned into their faces.\n\n\n \"You know, it's funny—but I feel great. Huh, I must've sweated all the\n aches out of me. Here, Gunn—you first.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks, Karl. We're still pals, aren't we?\"\n\n\n When Gunn was free, Mussdorf came to stand over Emerson, looking down\n at him. His eyes narrowed suddenly. He grinned a little, twisting his\n lips.\n\n\n \"Maybe you fellows ought to stay tied up,\" he said. \"In case that—that\n thing comes back. He won't blame us all for the break we're making.\"\n\n\n \"Not on your life,\" said Emerson.\n\n\n But Mussdorf shook his head, and his lips tightened.\n\n\n \"No. No, I think it's better the way I say.\"\n\n\n \"Don't be a fool, Mussdorf,\" snapped Emerson savagely. \"It isn't your\n place to think, anyhow. That's mine. I'm commander of this force. What\n I say is an order.\"\n\n\n Mussdorf grinned dryly. Into his eyes came a glint of hot, sullen anger.\n\n\n \"You were our commander—out there, in space. We're on a planet now.\n Things are different. I want to learn the secret of those mists,\n Emerson. Something tells me I'd get a fortune for it, on Earth.\"\n\n\n Emerson squirmed helplessly, cursing him, saying, \"What's gotten into\n you?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing new. Remember me, Karl Mussdorf? I'm a convict, I am. A salt\n mine convict. I'd have done anything to get out of that boiling hell. I\n volunteered to go with you for the radium. Me and Gunn. Nichols doesn't\n count. He came on account of his wife and kids. We were the only two\n who'd come. Convicts, both of us.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What unexpected characteristic did the sickness experienced by space travelers, caused by cosmic rays, display?", "question_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I_1", "options": ["The sickness could be transferred from the space traveler exposed to the cosmic rays to other people on Earth who had not engaged in space travel.", "There was no range of effects. Everyone who traveled in space got cancer and eventually died of it.", "It was easily cured using a medicine usually employed to de-worm livestock.", "Even lead shielding could not prevent the cosmic rays from getting through and causing sickness."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Irgi come to be alone on his planet?", "question_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I_2", "options": ["The text implies that the inhabitants of the planet Urg ruined their planet the way most intelligent races did - through the rages of nuclear war between nation-states.", "The text implies that a race of alien conquerors killed all of them except for Irgi.", "The text implies Irgi was a psychopath (in Earth terminology) who loosed a bioweapon on his own people, keeping the antidote only for himself, then regretted it later.", "The text implies that the same radiation sickness that is killing Terrans killed all of his people except him."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What can we infer that Irgi is doing to himself when he bathes in the blue light created by the cones and the block?", "question_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I_3", "options": ["He is taking a bath in ultraviolet light, which is how Urgians cleanse themselves, since their planet is now devoid of water.", "The light just feels good, kind of like warming your hands over a campfire. Since there is no one to stop him, he just basks in the light for pleasure.", "He is self-administering the treatment for space cancer, as he must do once per Urgian year.", "He is engaging in a religious purification ritual that had been done by everyone on his planet for thousands of years. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Emerson's ship first enter the story?", "question_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I_4", "options": ["Using the cones and the block, which generate energy, Urg constructed a tractor beam and pulled Emerson's ship down to the surface.", "Emerson's ship crash lands on Urg, and Irgi finds it while traveling aimlessly, sunk in depressed loneliness.", "Earth had contacted Urg to let them know that they were sending a mission to Urg, so it was no surprise to anyone.", "Irgi notices it from a distance while speaking his loneliness to the universe."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Emerson end up with a crew consisting of two criminals and a desperate dad?", "question_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I_5", "options": ["Simple: Space Force Command simply picked the four most expendable people who could run a spaceship.", "Simple: all four men were lifelong friends, having grown up together, even if two of them did go bad and end up in prison.", "Simple: traveling in space was known to be a death sentence due to the sickness induced by cosmic rays, so no one else wanted to go.", "Simple: they were the only four people left on Earth healthy enough to try to make the journey."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Emerson's ship get to the city where Irgi lived?", "question_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I_6", "options": ["The space ship started tumbling out of control on its way down to the planet, and they landed next to the domed city by dumb luck.", "The crew saw there was no sign of life where they originally touched down, so they flew in atmospheric mode around the planet till they saw the city and landed again.", "Irgi used his powers to move the ship from the desolate patch of rocks where it landed, to the city.", "The crew made a careful reconnaissance of the planet before choosing a landing site, and saw the opening in the city's globe covering and aimed for that."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How is communication between the Terrans and Irgi conducted?", "question_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I_7", "options": ["The Terrans have a universal translator, and while it takes awhile to dial it in, they are eventually able to have two-way communication with Irgi in his language.", "Irgi restrains and sedates the crewmen, then hooks them up to an instrument that converts brain wave activity to images, and he is able to see what they are thinking. This is one-way only, from the Terrans to Irgi.", "At first, Irgi realizes that he is transmitting at a frequency below the threshold of human hearing. After he raises the frequency above twelve per second, the crewmen are able to hear him, and he can hear them.", "Irgi provides the crewmen with a brain wave recorder, and hooks it up to himself and lets the crew see the images. When they understand, they hook themselves up so that Irgi can also see the images of their thoughts."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What occurs to Irgi while watching the images of the crewmen's brain waves?", "question_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I_8", "options": ["It occurs to him that he could save the human race from space cancer using the same special cleansing energy source that saved him.", "It occurs to him that he could reconstruct the civilization and nation of Urg by bringing thousands of Terrans there to start over.", "It occurs to him that Mussdorf is going to be a big problem.", "It occurs to him that human DNA is not similar enough to his DNA to allow hybridization to take place, so he is still going to be the last of his race."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What crucial point does Irgi fail to consider when he begins to act to save the people of Earth?", "question_unique_id": "63645_32M9QZ2I_9", "options": ["It never crosses his mind that many people on Earth would rather die than face pain inflicted at the hands of a thing that looks like an octopus - Irgi.", "It evidently does not occur to him that a frightened alien race that cannot communicate with him will interpret being restrained and subjected to the pain of the space cancer cleansing treatment as a hostile action.", "It never crosses his mind that some men are evil and selfish, and that some of his captives might not be people of goodwill.", "It evidently does not occur to him that he will not be able to travel to Earth with his equipment, and not enough people from Earth will be able to travel to Urg to make a difference."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/4/63645//63645-h//63645-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "61146", "set_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1013", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Retief of the Red-Tape Mountain", "year": 1955, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "Diplomats -- Fiction; Life on other planets -- Fiction; Science fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Short stories; PS; Retief (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Space colonies -- Fiction", "article": "RETIEF OF THE RED-TAPE MOUNTAIN\nby KEITH LAUMER\nRetief knew the importance of sealed\n\n orders—and the need to keep them that way!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, May 1962.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\n\"It's true,\" Consul Passwyn said, \"I requested assignment as principal\n officer at a small post. But I had in mind one of those charming resort\n worlds, with only an occasional visa problem, or perhaps a distressed\n spaceman or two a year. Instead, I'm zoo-keeper to these confounded\n settlers. And not for one world, mind you, but eight!\" He stared glumly\n at Vice-Consul Retief.\n\n\n \"Still,\" Retief said, \"it gives an opportunity to travel—\"\n\n\n \"Travel!\" the consul barked. \"I hate travel. Here in this backwater\n system particularly—\" He paused, blinked at Retief and cleared his\n throat. \"Not that a bit of travel isn't an excellent thing for a\n junior officer. Marvelous experience.\"\n\n\n He turned to the wall-screen and pressed a button. A system triagram\n appeared: eight luminous green dots arranged around a larger disk\n representing the primary. He picked up a pointer, indicating the\n innermost planet.\n\n\n \"The situation on Adobe is nearing crisis. The confounded settlers—a\n mere handful of them—have managed, as usual, to stir up trouble with\n an intelligent indigenous life form, the Jaq. I can't think why they\n bother, merely for a few oases among the endless deserts. However I\n have, at last, received authorization from Sector Headquarters to\n take certain action.\" He swung back to face Retief. \"I'm sending you\n in to handle the situation, Retief—under sealed orders.\" He picked\n up a fat buff envelope. \"A pity they didn't see fit to order the\n Terrestrial settlers out weeks ago, as I suggested. Now it is too late.\n I'm expected to produce a miracle—a rapprochement between Terrestrial\n and Adoban and a division of territory. It's idiotic. However, failure\n would look very bad in my record, so I shall expect results.\"\n\n\n He passed the buff envelope across to Retief.\n\n\n \"I understood that Adobe was uninhabited,\" Retief said, \"until the\n Terrestrial settlers arrived.\"\n\n\n \"Apparently, that was an erroneous impression.\" Passwyn fixed Retief\n with a watery eye. \"You'll follow your instructions to the letter. In a\n delicate situation such as this, there must be no impulsive, impromptu\n element introduced. This approach has been worked out in detail at\n Sector. You need merely implement it. Is that entirely clear?\"\n\n\n \"Has anyone at Headquarters ever visited Adobe?\"\n\n\n \"Of course not. They all hate travel. If there are no other questions,\n you'd best be on your way. The mail run departs the dome in less than\n an hour.\"\n\n\n \"What's this native life form like?\" Retief asked, getting to his feet.\n\n\n \"When you get back,\" said Passwyn, \"you tell me.\"\nThe mail pilot, a leathery veteran with quarter-inch whiskers, spat\n toward a stained corner of the compartment, leaned close to the screen.\n\n\n \"They's shootin' goin' on down there,\" he said. \"See them white puffs\n over the edge of the desert?\"\n\n\n \"I'm supposed to be preventing the war,\" said Retief. \"It looks like\n I'm a little late.\"\n\n\n The pilot's head snapped around. \"War?\" he yelped. \"Nobody told me they\n was a war goin' on on 'Dobe. If that's what that is, I'm gettin' out of\n here.\"\n\n\n \"Hold on,\" said Retief. \"I've got to get down. They won't shoot at you.\"\n\n\n \"They shore won't, sonny. I ain't givin' 'em the chance.\" He started\n punching keys on the console. Retief reached out, caught his wrist.\n\n\n \"Maybe you didn't hear me. I said I've got to get down.\"\n\n\n The pilot plunged against the restraint, swung a punch that Retief\n blocked casually. \"Are you nuts?\" the pilot screeched. \"They's plenty\n shootin' goin' on fer me to see it fifty miles out.\"\n\n\n \"The mail must go through, you know.\"\n\n\n \"Okay! You're so dead set on gettin' killed, you take the skiff. I'll\n tell 'em to pick up the remains next trip.\"\n\n\n \"You're a pal. I'll take your offer.\"\n\n\n The pilot jumped to the lifeboat hatch and cycled it open. \"Get in.\n We're closin' fast. Them birds might take it into their heads to lob\n one this way....\"\n\n\n Retief crawled into the narrow cockpit of the skiff, glanced over the\n controls. The pilot ducked out of sight, came back, handed Retief a\n heavy old-fashioned power pistol. \"Long as you're goin' in, might as\n well take this.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks.\" Retief shoved the pistol in his belt. \"I hope you're wrong.\"\n\n\n \"I'll see they pick you up when the shootin's over—one way or another.\"\n\n\n The hatch clanked shut. A moment later there was a jar as the skiff\n dropped away, followed by heavy buffeting in the backwash from the\n departing mail boat. Retief watched the tiny screen, hands on the\n manual controls. He was dropping rapidly: forty miles, thirty-nine....\n\n\n A crimson blip showed on the screen, moving out.\n\n\n Retief felt sweat pop out on his forehead. The red blip meant heavy\n radiation from a warhead. Somebody was playing around with an outlawed\n but by no means unheard of fission weapon. But maybe it was just on a\n high trajectory and had no connection with the skiff....\n\n\n Retief altered course to the south. The blip followed.\n\n\n He checked instrument readings, gripped the controls, watching. This\n was going to be tricky. The missile bored closer. At five miles Retief\n threw the light skiff into maximum acceleration, straight toward the\n oncoming bomb. Crushed back in the padded seat, he watched the screen,\n correcting course minutely. The proximity fuse should be set for no\n more than 1000 yards.\n\n\n At a combined speed of two miles per second, the skiff flashed past\n the missile, and Retief was slammed violently against the restraining\n harness in the concussion of the explosion ... a mile astern, and\n harmless.\n\n\n Then the planetary surface was rushing up with frightening speed.\n Retief shook his head, kicked in the emergency retro-drive. Points\n of light arced up from the planet face below. If they were ordinary\n chemical warheads the skiff's meteor screens should handle them. The\n screen flashed brilliant white, then went dark. The skiff flipped on\n its back. Smoke filled the tiny compartment. There was a series of\n shocks, a final bone-shaking concussion, then stillness, broken by the\n ping of hot metal contracting.\nCoughing, Retief disengaged himself from the shock-webbing. He beat\n out sparks in his lap, groped underfoot for the hatch and wrenched it\n open. A wave of hot jungle air struck him. He lowered himself to a bed\n of shattered foliage, got to his feet ... and dropped flat as a bullet\n whined past his ear.\n\n\n He lay listening. Stealthy movements were audible from the left.\n\n\n He inched his way to the shelter of a broad-boled dwarf tree. Somewhere\n a song lizard burbled. Whining insects circled, scented alien life,\n buzzed off. There was another rustle of foliage from the underbrush\n five yards away. A bush quivered, then a low bough dipped.\n\n\n Retief edged back around the trunk, eased down behind a fallen log.\n A stocky man in grimy leather shirt and shorts appeared, moving\n cautiously, a pistol in his hand.\n\n\n As he passed, Retief rose, leaped the log and tackled him.\n\n\n They went down together. The stranger gave one short yell, then\n struggled in silence. Retief flipped him onto his back, raised a fist—\n\n\n \"Hey!\" the settler yelled. \"You're as human as I am!\"\n\n\n \"Maybe I'll look better after a shave,\" said Retief. \"What's the idea\n of shooting at me?\"\n\n\n \"Lemme up. My name's Potter. Sorry 'bout that. I figured it was a\n Flap-jack boat; looks just like 'em. I took a shot when I saw something\n move. Didn't know it was a Terrestrial. Who are you? What you doin'\n here? We're pretty close to the edge of the oases. That's Flap-jack\n country over there.\" He waved a hand toward the north, where the desert\n lay.\n\n\n \"I'm glad you're a poor shot. That missile was too close for comfort.\"\n\n\n \"Missile, eh? Must be Flap-jack artillery. We got nothing like that.\"\n\n\n \"I heard there was a full-fledged war brewing,\" said Retief. \"I didn't\n expect—\"\n\n\n \"Good!\" Potter said. \"We figured a few of you boys from Ivory would be\n joining up when you heard. You are from Ivory?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. I'm—\"\n\n\n \"Hey, you must be Lemuel's cousin. Good night! I pretty near made a bad\n mistake. Lemuel's a tough man to explain something to.\"\n\n\n \"I'm—\"\n\n\n \"Keep your head down. These damn Flap-jacks have got some wicked hand\n weapons. Come on....\" He moved off silently on all fours. Retief\n followed. They crossed two hundred yards of rough country before Potter\n got to his feet, took out a soggy bandana and mopped his face.\n\n\n \"You move good for a city man. I thought you folks on Ivory just sat\n under those domes and read dials. But I guess bein' Lemuel's cousin you\n was raised different.\"\n\n\n \"As a matter of fact—\"\n\n\n \"Have to get you some real clothes, though. Those city duds don't stand\n up on 'Dobe.\"\n\n\n Retief looked down at the charred, torn and sweat-soaked powder-blue\n blazer and slacks.\n\n\n \"This outfit seemed pretty rough-and-ready back home,\" he said. \"But I\n guess leather has its points.\"\n\n\n \"Let's get on back to camp. We'll just about make it by sundown.\n And, look. Don't say anything to Lemuel about me thinking you were a\n Flap-jack.\"\n\n\n \"I won't, but—\"\n\n\n Potter was on his way, loping off up a gentle slope. Retief pulled off\n the sodden blazer, dropped it over a bush, added his string tie and\n followed Potter.\nII\n\n\n \"We're damn glad you're here, mister,\" said a fat man with two\n revolvers belted across his paunch. \"We can use every hand. We're in\n bad shape. We ran into the Flap-jacks three months ago and we haven't\n made a smart move since. First, we thought they were a native form we\n hadn't run into before. Fact is, one of the boys shot one, thinkin' it\n was fair game. I guess that was the start of it.\" He stirred the fire,\n added a stick.\n\n\n \"And then a bunch of 'em hit Swazey's farm here,\" Potter said. \"Killed\n two of his cattle, and pulled back.\"\n\n\n \"I figure they thought the cows were people,\" said Swazey. \"They were\n out for revenge.\"\n\n\n \"How could anybody think a cow was folks?\" another man put in. \"They\n don't look nothin' like—\"\n\n\n \"Don't be so dumb, Bert,\" said Swazey. \"They'd never seen Terries\n before. They know better now.\"\n\n\n Bert chuckled. \"Sure do. We showed 'em the next time, didn't we,\n Potter? Got four.\"\n\n\n \"They walked right up to my place a couple days after the first time,\"\n Swazey said. \"We were ready for 'em. Peppered 'em good. They cut and\n run.\"\n\n\n \"Flopped, you mean. Ugliest lookin' critters you ever saw. Look just\n like a old piece of dirty blanket humpin' around.\"\n\n\n \"It's been goin' on this way ever since. They raid and then we raid.\n But lately they've been bringing some big stuff into it. They've got\n some kind of pint-sized airships and automatic rifles. We've lost four\n men now and a dozen more in the freezer, waiting for the med ship. We\n can't afford it. The colony's got less than three hundred able-bodied\n men.\"\n\n\n \"But we're hanging onto our farms,\" said Potter. \"All these oases are\n old sea-beds—a mile deep, solid topsoil. And there's a couple of\n hundred others we haven't touched yet. The Flap-jacks won't get 'em\n while there's a man alive.\"\n\n\n \"The whole system needs the food we can raise,\" Bert said. \"These farms\n we're trying to start won't be enough but they'll help.\"\n\n\n \"We been yellin' for help to the CDT, over on Ivory,\" said Potter. \"But\n you know these Embassy stooges.\"\n\n\n \"We heard they were sending some kind of bureaucrat in here to tell\n us to get out and give the oases to the Flap-jacks,\" said Swazey. He\n tightened his mouth. \"We're waitin' for him....\"\n\n\n \"Meanwhile we got reinforcements comin' up, eh, boys?\" Bert winked at\n Retief. \"We put out the word back home. We all got relatives on Ivory\n and Verde.\"\n\n\n \"Shut up, you damn fool!\" a deep voice grated.\n\n\n \"Lemuel!\" Potter said. \"Nobody else could sneak up on us like that.\"\n\n\n \"If I'd a been a Flap-jack; I'd of et you alive,\" the newcomer said,\n moving into the ring of fire, a tall, broad-faced man in grimy leather.\n He eyed Retief.\n\n\n \"Who's that?\"\n\n\n \"What do ya mean?\" Potter spoke in the silence. \"He's your cousin....\"\n\n\n \"He ain't no cousin of mine,\" Lemuel said slowly. He stepped to Retief.\n\n\n \"Who you spyin' for, stranger?\" he rasped.\nRetief got to his feet. \"I think I should explain—\"\n\n\n A short-nosed automatic appeared in Lemuel's hand, a clashing note\n against his fringed buckskins.\n\n\n \"Skip the talk. I know a fink when I see one.\"\n\n\n \"Just for a change, I'd like to finish a sentence,\" said Retief. \"And I\n suggest you put your courage back in your pocket before it bites you.\"\n\n\n \"You talk too damned fancy to suit me.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe. But I'm talking to suit me. Now, for the last time, put it\n away.\"\n\n\n Lemuel stared at Retief. \"You givin' me orders...?\"\n\n\n Retief's left fist shot out, smacked Lemuel's face dead center. He\n stumbled back, blood starting from his nose; the pistol fired into the\n dirt as he dropped it. He caught himself, jumped for Retief ... and met\n a straight right that snapped him onto his back: out cold.\n\n\n \"Wow!\" said Potter. \"The stranger took Lem ... in two punches!\"\n\n\n \"One,\" said Swazey. \"That first one was just a love tap.\"\n\n\n Bert froze. \"Hark, boys,\" he whispered. In the sudden silence a night\n lizard called. Retief strained, heard nothing. He narrowed his eyes,\n peered past the fire—\n\n\n With a swift lunge he seized up the bucket of drinking water, dashed it\n over the fire, threw himself flat. He heard the others hit the dirt a\n split second behind him.\n\n\n \"You move fast for a city man,\" breathed Swazey beside him. \"You see\n pretty good too. We'll split and take 'em from two sides. You and Bert\n from the left, me and Potter from the right.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" said Retief. \"You wait here. I'm going out alone.\"\n\n\n \"What's the idea...?\"\n\n\n \"Later. Sit tight and keep your eyes open.\" Retief took a bearing on a\n treetop faintly visible against the sky and started forward.\nFive minutes' stealthy progress brought him to a slight rise of ground.\n With infinite caution he raised himself, risking a glance over an\n out-cropping of rock.\n\n\n The stunted trees ended just ahead. Beyond, he could make out the dim\n contour of rolling desert. Flap-jack country. He got to his feet,\n clambered over the stone—still hot after a day of tropical heat—and\n moved forward twenty yards. Around him he saw nothing but drifted sand,\n palely visible in the starlight, and the occasional shadow of jutting\n shale slabs. Behind him the jungle was still.\n\n\n He sat down on the ground to wait.\n\n\n It was ten minutes before a movement caught his eye. Something had\n separated itself from a dark mass of stone, glided across a few yards\n of open ground to another shelter. Retief watched. Minutes passed. The\n shape moved again, slipped into a shadow ten feet distant. Retief felt\n the butt of the power pistol with his elbow. His guess had better be\n right this time....\n\n\n There was a sudden rasp, like leather against concrete, and a flurry of\n sand as the Flap-jack charged.\n\n\n Retief rolled aside, then lunged, threw his weight on the flopping\n Flap-jack—a yard square, three inches thick at the center and all\n muscle. The ray-like creature heaved up, curled backward, its edge\n rippling, to stand on the flattened rim of its encircling sphincter.\n It scrabbled with prehensile fringe-tentacles for a grip on Retief's\n shoulders. He wrapped his arms around the alien and struggled to his\n feet. The thing was heavy. A hundred pounds at least. Fighting as it\n was, it seemed more like five hundred.\n\n\n The Flap-jack reversed its tactics, went limp. Retief grabbed, felt a\n thumb slip into an orifice—\n\n\n The alien went wild. Retief hung on, dug the thumb in deeper.\n\n\n \"Sorry, fellow,\" he muttered between clenched teeth. \"Eye-gouging isn't\n gentlemanly, but it's effective....\"\n\n\n The Flap-jack fell still, only its fringes rippling slowly. Retief\n relaxed the pressure of his thumb; the alien gave a tentative jerk; the\n thumb dug in.\n\n\n The alien went limp again, waiting.\n\n\n \"Now we understand each other,\" said Retief. \"Take me to your leader.\"\nTwenty minutes' walk into the desert brought Retief to a low rampart\n of thorn branches: the Flap-jacks' outer defensive line against Terry\n forays. It would be as good a place as any to wait for the move by the\n Flap-jacks. He sat down and eased the weight of his captive off his\n back, but kept a firm thumb in place. If his analysis of the situation\n was correct, a Flap-jack picket should be along before too long....\n\n\n A penetrating beam of red light struck Retief in the face, blinked off.\n He got to his feet. The captive Flap-jack rippled its fringe in an\n agitated way. Retief tensed his thumb in the eye-socket.\n\n\n \"Sit tight,\" he said. \"Don't try to do anything hasty....\" His remarks\n were falling on deaf ears—or no ears at all—but the thumb spoke as\n loudly as words.\n\n\n There was a slither of sand. Another. He became aware of a ring of\n presences drawing closer.\n\n\n Retief tightened his grip on the alien. He could see a dark shape now,\n looming up almost to his own six-three. It looked like the Flap-jacks\n came in all sizes.\n\n\n A low rumble sounded, like a deep-throated growl. It strummed on, faded\n out. Retief cocked his head, frowning.\n\n\n \"Try it two octaves higher,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Awwrrp! Sorry. Is that better?\" a clear voice came from the darkness.\n\n\n \"That's fine,\" Retief said. \"I'm here to arrange a prisoner exchange.\"\n\n\n \"Prisoners? But we have no prisoners.\"\n\n\n \"Sure you have. Me. Is it a deal?\"\n\n\n \"Ah, yes, of course. Quite equitable. What guarantees do you require?\"\n\n\n \"The word of a gentleman is sufficient.\" Retief released the alien. It\n flopped once, disappeared into the darkness.\n\n\n \"If you'd care to accompany me to our headquarters,\" the voice said,\n \"we can discuss our mutual concerns in comfort.\"\n\n\n \"Delighted.\"\n\n\n Red lights blinked briefly. Retief glimpsed a gap in the thorny\n barrier, stepped through it. He followed dim shapes across warm sand to\n a low cave-like entry, faintly lit with a reddish glow.\n\n\n \"I must apologize for the awkward design of our comfort-dome,\" said the\n voice. \"Had we known we would be honored by a visit—\"\n\n\n \"Think nothing of it,\" Retief said. \"We diplomats are trained to crawl.\"\n\n\n Inside, with knees bent and head ducked under the five-foot ceiling,\n Retief looked around at the walls of pink-toned nacre, a floor like\n burgundy-colored glass spread with silken rugs and a low table of\n polished red granite that stretched down the center of the spacious\n room, set out with silver dishes and rose-crystal drinking-tubes.\nIII\n\n\n \"Let me congratulate you,\" the voice said.\n\n\n Retief turned. An immense Flap-jack, hung with crimson trappings,\n rippled at his side. The voice issued from a disk strapped to its back.\n \"You fight well. I think we will find in each other worthy adversaries.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks. I'm sure the test would be interesting, but I'm hoping we can\n avoid it.\"\n\n\n \"Avoid it?\" Retief heard a low humming coming from the speaker in the\n silence. \"Well, let us dine,\" the mighty Flap-jack said at last. \"We\n can resolve these matters later. I am called Hoshick of the Mosaic of\n the Two Dawns.\"\n\n\n \"I'm Retief.\" Hoshick waited expectantly, \"... of the Mountain of Red\n Tape,\" Retief added.\n\n\n \"Take place, Retief,\" said Hoshick. \"I hope you won't find our rude\n couches uncomfortable.\" Two other large Flap-jacks came into the room,\n communed silently with Hoshick. \"Pray forgive our lack of translating\n devices,\" he said to Retief. \"Permit me to introduce my colleagues....\"\n\n\n A small Flap-jack rippled the chamber bearing on its back a silver tray\n laden with aromatic food. The waiter served the four diners, filled the\n drinking tubes with yellow wine. It smelled good.\n\n\n \"I trust you'll find these dishes palatable,\" said Hoshick. \"Our\n metabolisms are much alike, I believe.\" Retief tried the food. It had a\n delicious nut-like flavor. The wine was indistinguishable from Chateau\n d'Yquem.\n\n\n \"It was an unexpected pleasure to encounter your party here,\"\n said Hoshick. \"I confess at first we took you for an indigenous\n earth-grubbing form, but we were soon disabused of that notion.\" He\n raised a tube, manipulating it deftly with his fringe tentacles. Retief\n returned the salute and drank.\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Hoshick continued, \"as soon as we realized that you were\n sportsmen like ourselves, we attempted to make amends by providing a\n bit of activity for you. We've ordered out our heavier equipment and a\n few trained skirmishers and soon we'll be able to give you an adequate\n show. Or so I hope.\"\n\n\n \"Additional skirmishers?\" said Retief. \"How many, if you don't mind my\n asking?\"\n\n\n \"For the moment, perhaps only a few hundred. There-after ... well,\n I'm sure we can arrange that between us. Personally I would prefer a\n contest of limited scope. No nuclear or radiation-effect weapons. Such\n a bore, screening the spawn for deviations. Though I confess we've come\n upon some remarkably useful sports. The rangerform such as you made\n captive, for example. Simple-minded, of course, but a fantastically\n keen tracker.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, by all means,\" Retief said. \"No atomics. As you pointed out,\n spawn-sorting is a nuisance, and then too, it's wasteful of troops.\"\n\n\n \"Ah, well, they are after all expendable. But we agree: no atomics.\n Have you tried the ground-gwack eggs? Rather a specialty of my\n Mosaic....\"\n\n\n \"Delicious,\" said Retief. \"I wonder. Have you considered eliminating\n weapons altogether?\"\nA scratchy sound issued from the disk. \"Pardon my laughter,\" Hoshick\n said, \"but surely you jest?\"\n\n\n \"As a matter of fact,\" said Retief, \"we ourselves seldom use weapons.\"\n\n\n \"I seem to recall that our first contact of skirmishforms involved the\n use of a weapon by one of your units.\"\n\n\n \"My apologies,\" said Retief. \"The—ah—the skirmishform failed to\n recognize that he was dealing with a sportsman.\"\n\n\n \"Still, now that we have commenced so merrily with weapons....\" Hoshick\n signaled and the servant refilled tubes.\n\n\n \"There is an aspect I haven't yet mentioned,\" Retief went on. \"I hope\n you won't take this personally, but the fact is, our skirmishforms\n think of weapons as something one employs only in dealing with certain\n specific life-forms.\"\n\n\n \"Oh? Curious. What forms are those?\"\n\n\n \"Vermin. Or 'varmints' as some call them. Deadly antagonists, but\n lacking in caste. I don't want our skirmishforms thinking of such\n worthy adversaries as yourself as varmints.\"\n\n\n \"Dear me! I hadn't realized, of course. Most considerate of you to\n point it out.\" Hoshick clucked in dismay. \"I see that skirmishforms are\n much the same among you as with us: lacking in perception.\" He laughed\n scratchily. \"Imagine considering us as—what was the word?—varmints.\"\n\n\n \"Which brings us to the crux of the matter. You see, we're up against\n a serious problem with regard to skirmishforms. A low birth rate.\n Therefore we've reluctantly taken to substitutes for the mass actions\n so dear to the heart of the sportsman. We've attempted to put an end to\n these contests altogether....\"\n\n\n Hoshick coughed explosively, sending a spray of wine into the air.\n \"What are you saying?\" he gasped. \"Are you proposing that Hoshick of\n the Mosaic of the Two Dawns abandon honor....?\"\n\n\n \"Sir!\" said Retief sternly. \"You forget yourself. I, Retief of the Red\n Tape Mountain, make an alternate proposal more in keeping with the\n newest sporting principles.\"\n\n\n \"New?\" cried Hoshick. \"My dear Retief, what a pleasant surprise! I'm\n enthralled with novel modes. One gets so out of touch. Do elaborate.\"\n\n\n \"It's quite simple, really. Each side selects a representative and the\n two individuals settle the issue between them.\"\n\n\n \"I ... um ... fear I don't understand. What possible significance could\n one attach to the activities of a couple of random skirmishforms?\"\n\n\n \"I haven't made myself clear,\" said Retief. He took a sip of wine. \"We\n don't involve the skirmishforms at all. That's quite passe.\"\n\n\n \"You don't mean...?\"\n\n\n \"That's right. You and me.\"\nOutside on the starlit sand Retief tossed aside the power pistol,\n followed it with the leather shirt Swazey had lent him. By the faint\n light he could just make out the towering figure of the Flap-jack\n rearing up before him, his trappings gone. A silent rank of Flap-jack\n retainers were grouped behind him.\n\n\n \"I fear I must lay aside the translator now, Retief,\" said Hoshick.\n He sighed and rippled his fringe tentacles. \"My spawn-fellows will\n never credit this. Such a curious turn fashion has taken. How much\n more pleasant it is to observe the action of the skirmishforms from a\n distance.\"\n\n\n \"I suggest we use Tennessee rules,\" said Retief. \"They're very liberal.\n Biting, gouging, stomping, kneeing and of course choking, as well as\n the usual punching, shoving and kicking.\"\n\n\n \"Hmmm. These gambits seem geared to forms employing rigid\n endo-skeletons; I fear I shall be at a disadvantage.\"\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Retief said, \"if you'd prefer a more plebeian type of\n contest....\"\n\n\n \"By no means. But perhaps we could rule out tentacle-twisting, just to\n even it.\"\n\n\n \"Very well. Shall we begin?\"\n\n\n With a rush Hoshick threw himself at Retief, who ducked, whirled, and\n leaped on the Flap-jack's back ... and felt himself flipped clear by\n a mighty ripple of the alien's slab-like body. Retief rolled aside\n as Hoshick turned on him; he jumped to his feet and threw a right\n hay-maker to Hoshick's mid-section. The alien whipped his left fringe\n around in an arc that connected with Retief's jaw, sent him spinning\n onto his back ... and Hoshick's weight struck him.\nRetief twisted, tried to roll. The flat body of the alien blanketed\n him. He worked an arm free, drumming blows on the leathery back.\n Hoshick nestled closer.\n\n\n Retief's air was running out. He heaved up against the smothering\n weight. Nothing budged.\n\n\n It was like burial under a dump-truck-load of concrete.\n\n\n He remembered the rangerform he had captured. The sensitive orifice\n had been placed ventrally, in what would be the thoracic area....\n\n\n He groped, felt tough hide set with horny granules. He would be missing\n skin tomorrow ... if there was a tomorrow. His thumb found the orifice\n and probed.\n\n\n The Flap-jack recoiled. Retief held fast, probed deeper, groping with\n the other hand. If the alien were bilaterally symmetrical there would\n be a set of ready made hand-holds....\nThere were.\n\n\n Retief dug in and the Flap-jack writhed, pulled away. Retief held on,\n scrambled to his feet, threw his weight against the alien and fell on\n top of him, still gouging. Hoshick rippled his fringe wildly, flopped\n in terror, then went limp.\n\n\n Retief relaxed, released his hold and got to his feet, breathing hard.\n Hoshick humped himself over onto his ventral side, lifted and moved\n gingerly over to the sidelines. His retainers came forward, assisted\n him into his trappings, strapped on the translator. He sighed heavily,\n adjusted the volume.\n\n\n \"There is much to be said for the old system,\" he said. \"What a burden\n one's sportsmanship places on one at times.\"\n\n\n \"Great sport, wasn't it?\" said Retief. \"Now, I know you'll be eager to\n continue. If you'll just wait while I run back and fetch some of our\n gougerforms—\"\n\n\n \"May hide-ticks devour the gougerforms!\" Hoshick bellowed. \"You've\n given me such a sprong-ache as I'll remember each spawning-time for a\n year.\"\n\n\n \"Speaking of hide-ticks,\" said Retief, \"we've developed a biterform—\"\n\n\n \"Enough!\" Hoshick roared, so loudly that the translator bounced on his\n hide. \"Suddenly I yearn for the crowded yellow sands of Jaq. I had\n hoped....\" He broke off, drew a rasping breath. \"I had hoped, Retief,\"\n he said, speaking sadly now, \"to find a new land here where I might\n plan my own Mosaic, till these alien sands and bring forth such a crop\n of paradise-lichen as should glut the markets of a hundred worlds. But\n my spirit is not equal to the prospect of biterforms and gougerforms\n without end. I am shamed before you....\"\n\n\n \"To tell you the truth, I'm old-fashioned myself. I'd rather watch the\n action from a distance too.\"\n\n\n \"But surely your spawn-fellows would never condone such an attitude.\"\n\n\n \"My spawn-fellows aren't here. And besides, didn't I mention it? No\n one who's really in the know would think of engaging in competition by\n mere combat if there were any other way. Now, you mentioned tilling the\n sand, raising lichens—things like that—\"\n\n\n \"That on which we dined but now,\" said Hoshick, \"and from which the\n wine is made.\"\n\n\n \"The big news in fashionable diplomacy today is farming competition.\n Now, if you'd like to take these deserts and raise lichen, we'll\n promise to stick to the oases and vegetables.\"\n\n\n Hoshick curled his back in attention. \"Retief, you're quite serious?\n You would leave all the fair sand hills to us?\"\n\n\n \"The whole works, Hoshick. I'll take the oases.\"\n\n\n Hoshick rippled his fringes ecstatically. \"Once again you have outdone\n me, Retief,\" he cried. \"This time, in generosity.\"\n\n\n \"We'll talk over the details later. I'm sure we can establish a set of\n rules that will satisfy all parties. Now I've got to get back. I think\n some of the gougerforms are waiting to see me.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What can we infer is the likely source of Retief's formal name?", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_1", "options": ["Retief had to come up with a formal title with no warning. He looked out over Hoshick's head and notice the red sun coming up over the mountains, and he thought about the flat shape of the Flapjacks, which suggested \"tape,\" and on impulse, called himself \nRetief of the Red-Tape Mountain.", "Retief was known as a stickler for following procedures and generating paperwork. Hence, years ago, his colleagues gave him the name Retief of the Red-Tape Mountain in token of the mountains of red tape that he created for everyone.", "When Retief had to come up with a formal title on the spur of the moment, it is not hard to imagine that he thought about the mountains of red tape that bureaucrats like him have to deal with, and in a play on words, turned it into his title, Retief of the Red-Tape Mountain.", "Retief was a diplomat, but he was also a member of the Terran nobility. For reasons lost in the mists of history, his father's duchy was called Red-Tape Mountain. When his father died, Retief inherited the title."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Did Retief follow the sealed orders given him by Passwyn?", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_2", "options": ["Retief was a skilled but unimaginitive diplomat. His boss, Passwyn, provided the highly specific orders because Retief was not very good at improvising. Therefore, we can infer that Retief would have followed the orders meticulously.", "Since Retief was ordered not to open the sealed packet of orders until he reached Adobe, and he left the ship on a skiff  with only a pistol before he ever got to Adobe. Thus, we can infer that he neither read nor followed the orders.", "Retief knew that there would be at least one or two useful ideas in the packet of orders developed by Headquarters, because the writers had all visited Adobe, and could be considered experts on the planet. Thus, we can infer that he read the orders carefully and followed them as best practices.", "From the unexpected way that Retief reached the surface of Adobe and Retief's obvious penchant for impulsive action, we can infer that although the mission goal was met, the meticulous procedures in the orders were not followed."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "True or False: Flapjacks are native to Adobe.", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_3", "options": ["False. The leader of the Flapjacks says that he and his group of followers came from another planet.", "True. Although Retief is surprised that the Flapjacks were not discovered before Terran colonization of the planet began, the Terran instruments simply could not detect them.", "True. \"Flapjack\" is a pejorative name for the group known as the Jaqs, which Passwyn tells Retief is an intelligent indigenous lifeform.", "False. The Flapjacks developed from a biological lab accident on Earth, and were transported to Adobe accidentally."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Retief narrowly escape having his skiff destroyed on the way down to the planet?", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_4", "options": ["Retief encountered a nuclear missile fired by the Jax. The skiff was well-armed, and he took it down with a lucky shot.", "The mail pilot of the main ship was in such a hurry to get rid of him that he did not fully seal the skiff's airlock, and Retief worried all the way to the planet's surface that he would run out of air. He didn't, though.", "He escaped being blown up by a nuclear weapon by heading straight at it at such a high rate of speed that by the time its sensors detected him and triggered the firing sequence, he was on his way past, while the blast was focused in the other direction.", "As he took evasive action to get away from an atomic missile fired by the colonists, he almost ran into some space junk from a destroyed ship, but he avoided that, too."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why doesn't Retief correct Potter about his assumption that Retief is Lemuel's cousin?", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_5", "options": ["He sees right away that it would be beneficial to allow this misunderstanding to continue.", "Retief is a diplomat. He doesn't see the point in embarrassing Potter by correcting him.", "He tries, but never finishes the thought, because Potter keeps interrupting him.", "Retief didn't hear what Potter said."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the trouble between the Jaqs and the colonists begin?", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_6", "options": ["The Flapjacks ambushed a colonist settlement and killed everyone in it.", "The colonists started systematically moving the Flapjacks to reservations consisting of land that couldn't be farmed, and dumped them on the reservations with the clothes on their backs.", "Colonists were harassing the Flapjacks in town, treating them like pariah, and some of the younger Flapjacks snapped and started brawling with colonists, who retaliated, and it spiraled from there.", "The colonists initially thought that they were just some kind of animal indigenous to Adobe, and one of them shot one for sport."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many casualties have the colonists suffered so far?", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_7", "options": ["The only casualties so far are Swazey's two cows.", "300 killed or wounded.", "4 killed and 12 wounded.", "16 killed."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Retief take on Lemuel in a fistfight?", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_8", "options": ["Retief wants to take over leadership from Lemuel of the group of humans that is defending the colony from the Flapjacks.", "Retief wants to prove to any distant, observing Flapjacks, that he is no part of the colonists' defense group that has been harassing them.", "Retief just wants to get on with his diplomatic mission, and Lemuel is an obstacle and a threat to his safety.", "The Jax are great sportsmen, and Retief's standing among them will be enhanced by defeating Lemuel."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Retief subdue both of the Flapjacks that he wrestles?", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_9", "options": ["Flapjacks are terrified of water, and he spit on them, which acts as a burning agent on a Flapjack.", "He mashes his thumb into an opening which Retief thought was the eye, but which Hoshick implies is involved in Flapjack reproduction.", "He mashes his thumb into an opening identified by Retief and verified by Hoshick as being the Flapjack's eye, in each case.", "He twists the Flapjacks' tentacles, which is excruciatingly painful to a Flapjack."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What compromise did Retief and Hoshick reach that ended the conflict?", "question_unique_id": "61146_76LHD3BB_10", "options": ["They agreed to split all the oases on the planet, picking by random draw which oases went to the settlers, and which to the Flapjacks.", "They agreed to put a line of demarcation around the planet in a longitudinal direction, and the colonists would get one half of the planet, and the Flapjacks the other half.", "Hoshick decided it would be better for the Flapjacks to return to Jax, and this put an end to the conflict.", "It turns out that the Flapjacks wanted land that the colonists considered worthless, so it was easy to reach an agreement in priniciple."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/1/4/61146//61146-h//61146-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63633", "set_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1014", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Out of the Iron Womb!", "year": 1964, "author": "Anderson, Poul", "topic": "Asteroids -- Fiction; Adventure stories; PS; Science fiction", "article": "OUT OF THE IRON WOMB!\nBy POUL ANDERSON\nBehind a pale Venusian mask lay hidden the\n \narch-humanist, the anti-tech killer ... one of\n \nthose who needlessly had strewn Malone blood\n \nacross the heavens from Saturn to the sun.\n \nNow—on distant Trojan asteroids—the\n \nrendezvous for death was plainly marked.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe most dangerous is not the outlawed murderer, who only slays men,\n but the rebellious philosopher: for he destroys worlds.\n\n\n Darkness and the chill glitter of stars. Bo Jonsson crouched on a\n whirling speck of stone and waited for the man who was coming to kill\n him.\n\n\n There was no horizon. The flying mountain on which he stood was\n too small. At his back rose a cliff of jagged rock, losing its own\n blackness in the loom of shadows; its teeth ate raggedly across the\n Milky Way. Before him, a tumbled igneous wilderness slanted crazily\n off, with one long thin crag sticking into the sky like a grotesque\n bowsprit.\n\n\n There was no sound except the thudding of his own heart, the harsh rasp\n of his own breath, locked inside the stinking metal skin of his suit.\n Otherwise ... no air, no heat, no water or life or work of man, only a\n granite nakedness spinning through space out beyond Mars.\n\n\n Stooping, awkward in the clumsy armor, he put the transparent plastic\n of his helmet to the ground. Its cold bit at him even through the\n insulating material. He might be able to hear the footsteps of his\n murderer conducted through the ground.\n\n\n Stillness answered him. He gulped a heavy lungful of tainted air\n and rose. The other might be miles away yet, or perhaps very close,\n catfooting too softly to set up vibrations. A man could do that when\n gravity was feeble enough.\n\n\n The stars blazed with a cruel wintry brilliance, over him, around\n him, light-years to fall through emptiness before he reached one. He\n had been alone among them before; he had almost thought them friends.\n Sometimes, on a long watch, a man found himself talking to Vega or\n Spica or dear old Beetle Juice, murmuring what was in him as if the\n remote sun could understand. But they didn't care, he saw that now. To\n them, he did not exist, and they would shine carelessly long after he\n was gone into night.\n\n\n He had never felt so alone as now, when another man was on the asteroid\n with him, hunting him down.\n\n\n Bo Jonsson looked at the wrench in his hand. It was long and massive,\n it would have been heavy on Earth, but it was hardly enough to unscrew\n the stars and reset the machinery of a universe gone awry. He smiled\n stiffly at the thought. He wanted to laugh too, but checked himself for\n fear he wouldn't be able to stop.\nLet's face it\n, he told himself.\nYou're scared. You're scared\n sweatless.\nHe wondered if he had spoken it aloud.\n\n\n There was plenty of room on the asteroid. At least two hundred square\n miles, probably more if you allowed for the rough surface. He could\n skulk around, hide ... and suffocate when his tanked air gave out. He\n had to be a hunter, too, and track down the other man, before he died.\n And if he found his enemy, he would probably die anyway.\n\n\n He looked about him. Nothing. No sound, no movement, nothing but the\n streaming of the constellations as the asteroid spun. Nothing had ever\n moved here, since the beginning of time when moltenness congealed into\n death. Not till men came and hunted each other.\n\n\n Slowly he forced himself to move. The thrust of his foot sent him\n up, looping over the cliff to drift down like a dead leaf in Earth's\n October. Suit, equipment, and his own body, all together, weighed only\n a couple of pounds here. It was ghostly, this soundless progress over\n fields which had never known life. It was like being dead already.\n\n\n Bo Jonsson's tongue was dry and thick in his mouth. He wanted to\n find his enemy and give up, buy existence at whatever price it would\n command. But he couldn't do that. Even if the other man let him do it,\n which was doubtful, he couldn't. Johnny Malone was dead.\n\n\n Maybe that was what had started it all—the death of Johnny Malone.\nThere are numerous reasons for basing on the Trojan asteroids, but\n the main one can be given in a single word: stability. They stay put\n in Jupiter's orbit, about sixty degrees ahead and behind, with only\n minor oscillations; spaceships need not waste fuel coming up to a body\n which has been perturbed a goodly distance from where it was supposed\n to be. The trailing group is the jumping-off place for trans-Jovian\n planets, the leading group for the inner worlds—that way, their own\n revolution about the sun gives the departing ship a welcome boost,\n while minimizing the effects of Jupiter's drag.\n\n\n Moreover, being dense clusters, they have attracted swarms of miners,\n so that Achilles among the leaders and Patroclus in the trailers have a\n permanent boom town atmosphere. Even though a spaceship and equipment\n represent a large investment, this is one of the last strongholds of\n genuinely private enterprise: the prospector, the mine owner, the\n rockhound dreaming of the day when his stake is big enough for him to\n start out on his own—a race of individualists, rough and noisy and\n jealous, but living under iron rules of hospitality and rescue.\n\n\n The Last Chance on Achilles has another name, which simply sticks an\n \"r\" in the official one; even for that planetoid, it is a rowdy bar\n where Guardsmen come in trios. But Johnny Malone liked it, and talked\n Bo Jonsson into going there for a final spree before checkoff and\n departure. \"Nothing to compare,\" he insisted. \"Every place else is\n getting too fantangling civilized, except Venus, and I don't enjoy\n Venus.\"\n\n\n Johnny was from Luna City himself: a small, dark man with the quick\n nervous movements and dipped accent of that roaring commercial\n metropolis. He affected the latest styles, brilliant colors in the\n flowing tunic and slacks, a beret cocked on his sleek head. But somehow\n he didn't grate on Bo, they had been partners for several years now.\n\n\n They pushed through a milling crowd at the bar, rockhounds who watched\n one of Achilles' three live ecdysiasts with hungry eyes, and by some\n miracle found an empty booth. Bo squeezed his bulk into one side of the\n cubicle while Johnny, squinting through a reeking smoke-haze, dialed\n drinks. Bo was larger and heavier than most spacemen—he'd never have\n gotten his certificate before the ion drive came in—and was usually\n content to let others talk while he listened. A placid blond giant,\n with amiable blue eyes in a battered brown face, he did not consider\n himself bright, and always wanted to learn.\n\n\n Johnny gulped his drink and winced. \"Whiskey, they call it yet! Water,\n synthetic alcohol, and a dash of caramel they have the gall to label\n whiskey and charge for!\"\n\n\n \"Everything's expensive here,\" said Bo mildly. \"That's why so few\n rockhounds get rich. They make a lot of money, but they have to spend\n it just as fast to stay alive.\"\n\n\n \"Yeh ... yeh ... wish they'd spend some of it on us.\" Johnny grinned\n and fed the dispenser another coin. It muttered to itself and slid\n forth a tray with a glass. \"C'mon, drink up, man. It's a long way home,\n and we've got to fortify ourselves for the trip. A bottle, a battle,\n and a wench is what I need. Most especially the wench, because I don't\n think the eminent Dr. McKittrick is gonna be interested in sociability,\n and it's close quarters aboard the\nDog\n.\"\n\n\n Bo kept on sipping slowly. \"Johnny,\" he said, raising his voice to cut\n through the din, \"you're an educated man. I never could figure out why\n you want to talk like a jumper.\"\n\n\n \"Because I am one at heart. Look, Bo, why don't you get over that\n inferiority complex of yours? A man can't run a spaceship without\n knowing more math and physical science than the average professor on\n Earth. So you had to work your way through the Academy and never had a\n chance to fan yourself with a lily white hand while somebody tootled\n Mozart through a horn. So what?\" Johnny's head darted around, birdlike.\n \"If we want some women we'd better make our reservations now.\"\n\n\n \"I don't, Johnny,\" said Bo. \"I'll just nurse a beer.\" It wasn't morals\n so much as fastidiousness; he'd wait till they hit Luna.\n\n\n \"Suit yourself. If you don't want to uphold the honor of the Sirius\n Transportation Company—\"\n\n\n Bo chuckled. The Company consisted of (a) the\nSirius\n; (b) her crew,\n himself and Johnny; (c) a warehouse, berth, and three other part owners\n back in Luna City. Not exactly a tramp ship, because you can't normally\n stop in the middle of an interplanetary voyage and head for somewhere\n else; but she went wherever there was cargo or people to be moved.\n Her margin of profit was not great in spite of the charges, for a\n space trip is expensive; but in a few more years they'd be able to buy\n another ship or two, and eventually Fireball and Triplanetary would be\n getting some competition. Even the public lines might have to worry a\n little.\n\n\n Johnny put away another couple of shots and rose. Alcohol cost plenty,\n but it was also more effective in low-gee. \"'Scuse me,\" he said. \"I see\n a target. Sure you don't want me to ask if she has a friend?\"\n\n\n Bo shook his head and watched his partner move off, swift in the puny\n gravity—the Last Chance didn't centrifuge like some of the tommicker\n places downtown. It was hard to push through the crowd without weight\n to help, but Johnny faded along and edged up to the girl with his\n highest-powered smile. There were several other men standing around\n her, but Johnny had The Touch. He'd be bringing her back here in a few\n minutes.\n\n\n Bo sighed, feeling a bit lonesome. If he wasn't going to make a night\n of it, there was no point in drinking heavily. He had to make the final\n inspection of the ship tomorrow, and grudged the cost of anti-hangover\n tablets. Besides what he was putting back into the business, he was\n trying to build a private hoard; some day, he'd retire and get married\n and build a house. He already had the site picked out, on Kullen\n overlooking the Sound, back on Earth. Man, but it was a long time since\n he'd been on Earth!\n\n\n A sharp noise slashed through the haze of talk and music Bo looked up.\n There was a tall black haired man, Venusian to judge by his kilts,\n arguing with Johnny. His face was ugly with anger.\n\n\n Johnny made some reply. Bo heaved up his form and strode toward the\n discussion, casually picking up anyone in the way and setting him\n aside. Johnny liked a fight, but this Venusian was big.\n\n\n As he neared, he caught words: \"—my girl, dammit.\"\n\n\n \"Like hell I am!\" said the girl. \"I never saw you before—\"\n\n\n \"Run along and play, son,\" said Johnny. \"Or do you want me to change\n that diaper of yours?\"\n\n\n That was when it happened. Bo saw the little needler spit from the\n Venusian's fingers. Johnny stood there a moment, looking foolishly at\n the dart in his stomach. Then his knees buckled and he fell with a\n nightmare slowness.\n\n\n The Venusian was already on the move. He sprang straight up, slammed a\n kick at the wall, and arced out the door into the dome corridor beyond.\nA spaceman, that. Knows how to handle himself in low-gee.\nIt was the\n only clear thought which ran in the sudden storm of Bo's head.\n\n\n The girl screamed. A man cursed and tried to follow the Venusian.\n He tangled with another. \"Get outta my way!\" A roar lifted, someone\n slugged, someone else coolly smashed a bottle against the bar and\n lifted the jagged end. There was the noise of a fist meeting flesh.\n\n\n Bo had seen death before. That needle wasn't anesthetic, it was poison.\n He knelt in the riot with Johnny's body in his arms.\nII\n\n\n Suddenly the world came to an end. There was a sheer drop-off onto the\n next face of the rough cube which was the asteroid. Bo lay on his belly\n and peered down the cliff, it ran for a couple of miles and beyond it\n were the deeps of space and the cold stars. He could dimly see the\n tortured swirl of crystallization patterns in the smooth bareness. No\n place to hide; his enemy was not there.\n\n\n He turned the thought over in a mind which seemed stiff and slow. By\n crossing that little plain he was exposing himself to a shot from one\n of its edges. On the other hand, he could just as well be bushwhacked\n from a ravine as he jumped over. And this route was the fastest for\n completing his search scheme.\n\n\n The Great Bear slid into sight, down under the world as it turned. He\n had often stood on winter nights, back in Sweden, and seen its immense\n sprawl across the weird flicker of aurora; but even then he wanted the\n spaceman's experience of seeing it from above. Well, now he had his\n wish, and much good it had done him.\n\n\n He went over the edge of the cliff, cautiously, for it wouldn't take\n much of an impetus to throw him off this rock entirely. Then his\n helpless and soon frozen body would be just another meteor for the next\n million years. The vague downward sensation of gravity shifted insanely\n as he moved; he had the feeling that the world was tilting around him.\n Now it was the precipice which was a scarred black plain underfoot,\n reaching to a saw-toothed bluff at its farther edge.\n\n\n He moved with flat low-gee bounds. Besides the danger of springing off\n the asteroid entirely, there was its low acceleration to keep a man\n near the ground; jump up a few feet and it would take you a while to\n fall back. It was utterly silent around him. He had never thought there\n could be so much stillness.\n\n\n He was halfway across when the bullet came. He saw no flash, heard\n no crack, but suddenly the fissured land before him exploded in a\n soundless shower of chips. The bullet ricocheted flatly, heading off\n for outer space. No meteor gravel, that!\n\n\n Bo stood unmoving an instant, fighting the impulse to leap away. He was\n a spaceman, not a rockhound; he wasn't used to this environment, and if\n he jumped high he could be riddled as he fell slowly down again. Sweat\n was cold on his body. He squinted, trying to see where the shot had\n come from.\n\n\n Suddenly he was zigzagging off across the plain toward the nearest\n edge. Another bullet pocked the ground near him. The sun rose, a tiny\n heatless dazzle blinding in his eyes.\n\n\n Fire crashed at his back. Thunder and darkness exploded before him. He\n lurched forward, driven by the impact. Something was roaring, echoes\n clamorous in his helmet. He grew dimly aware that it was himself. Then\n he was falling, whirling down into the black between the stars.\n\n\n There was a knife in his back, it was white-hot and twisting between\n the ribs. He stumbled over the edge of the plain and fell, waking when\n his armor bounced a little against stone.\n\n\n Breath rattled in his throat as he turned his head. There was a white\n plume standing over his shoulder, air streaming out through the hole\n and freezing its moisture. The knife in him was not hot, it was cold\n with an ultimate cold.\n\n\n Around him, world and stars rippled as if seen through heat, through\n fever. He hung on the edge of creation by his fingertips, while chaos\n shouted beneath.\nTheoretically, one man can run a spaceship, but in practice two\n or three are required for non-military craft. This is not only an\n emergency reserve, but a preventive of emergencies, for one man alone\n might get too tired at the critical moments. Bo knew he wouldn't be\n allowed to leave Achilles without a certified partner, and unemployed\n spacemen available for immediate hiring are found once in a Venusian\n snowfall.\n\n\n Bo didn't care the first day. He had taken Johnny out to Helmet Hill\n and laid him in the barren ground to wait, unchanging now, till\n Judgement Day. He felt empty then, drained of grief and hope alike,\n his main thought a dull dread of having to tell Johnny's father when\n he reached Luna. He was too slow and clumsy with words; his comforting\n hand would only break the old man's back. Old Malone had given six sons\n to space, Johnny was the last; from Saturn to the sun, his blood was\n strewn for nothing.\n\n\n It hardly seemed to matter that the Guards office reported itself\n unable to find the murderer. A single Venusian should have been easy to\n trace on Achilles, but he seemed to have vanished completely.\n\n\n Bo returned to the transient quarters and dialed Valeria McKittrick.\n She looked impatiently at him out of the screen. \"Well,\" she said,\n \"what's the matter? I thought we were blasting today.\"\n\n\n \"Hadn't you heard?\" asked Bo. He found it hard to believe she could\n be ignorant, here where everybody's life was known to everybody else.\n \"Johnny's dead. We can't leave.\"\n\n\n \"Oh ... I'm sorry. He was such a nice little man—I've been in the lab\n all the time, packing my things, and didn't know.\" A frown crossed her\n clear brow. \"But you've got to get me back. I've engaged passage to\n Luna with you.\"\n\n\n \"Your ticket will be refunded, of course,\" said Bo heavily. \"But you\n aren't certified, and the\nSirius\nis licensed for no less than two\n operators.\"\n\n\n \"Well ... damn! There won't be another berth for weeks, and I've\ngot\nto get home. Can't you find somebody?\"\n\n\n Bo shrugged, not caring much. \"I'll circulate an ad if you want, but—\"\n\n\n \"Do so, please. Let me know.\" She switched off.\n\n\n Bo sat for a moment thinking about her. Valeria McKittrick was worth\n considering. She wasn't beautiful in any conventional sense but she was\n tall and well built; there were good lines in the strong high boned\n face, and her hair was a cataract of spectacular red. And brains,\n too ... you didn't get to be a physicist with the Union's radiation\n labs for nothing. He knew she was still young, and that she had been on\n Achilles for about a year working on some special project and was now\n ready to go home.\n\n\n She was human enough, had been to most of the officers' parties and\n danced and laughed and flirted mildly, but even the dullest rockhound\n gossip knew she was too lost in her work to do more. Out here a woman\n was rare, and a virtuous woman unheard-of; as a result, unknown to\n herself, Dr. McKittrick's fame had spread through more thousands of\n people and millions of miles than her professional achievements were\n ever likely to reach.\n\n\n Since coming here, on commission from the Lunar lab, to bring her\n home, Bo Jonsson had given her an occasional wistful thought. He liked\n intelligent women, and he was getting tired of rootlessness. But of\n course it would be a catastrophe if he fell in love with her because\n she wouldn't look twice at a big dumb slob like him. He had sweated out\n a couple of similar affairs in the past and didn't want to go through\n another.\n\n\n He placed his ad on the radinews circuit and then went out to get\n drunk. It was all he could do for Johnny now, drink him a final\n wassail. Already his friend was cold under the stars. In the course of\n the evening he found himself weeping.\n\n\n He woke up many hours later. Achilles ran on Earth time but did not\n rotate on it; officially, it was late at night, actually the shrunken\n sun was high over the domes. The man in the upper bunk said there was a\n message for him; he was to call one Einar Lundgard at the Comet Hotel\n soonest.\n\n\n The Comet! Anyone who could afford a room to himself here, rather than\n a kip in the public barracks, was well fueled. Bo swallowed a tablet\n and made his way to the visi and dialed. The robo-clerk summoned\n Lundgard down to the desk.\n\n\n It was a lean, muscular face under close cropped brown hair which\n appeared in the screen. Lundgard was a tall and supple man, somehow\n neat even without clothes. \"Jonsson,\" said Bo. \"Sorry to get you up,\n but I understood—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes. Are you looking for a spaceman? I heard your ad and I'm\n available.\"\n\n\n Bo felt his mouth gape open. \"Huh? I never thought—\"\n\n\n \"We're both lucky, I guess.\" Lundgard chuckled. His English had only\n the slightest trace of accent, less than Bo's. \"I thought I was stashed\n here too for the next several months.\"\n\n\n \"How does a qualified spaceman happen to be marooned?\"\n\n\n \"I'm with Fireball, was on the\nDrake\n—heard of what happened to her?\"\n\n\n Bo nodded, for every spaceman knows exactly what every spaceship is\n doing at any given time. The\nDrake\nhad come to Achilles to pick up\n a cargo of refined thorium for Earth; while she lay in orbit, she had\n somehow lost a few hundred pounds of reaction-mass water from a cracked\n gasket. Why the accident should have occurred, nobody knew ... spacemen\n were not careless about inspections, and what reason would anyone have\n for sabotage? The event had taken place about a month ago, when the\nSirius\nwas already enroute here; Bo had heard of it in the course of\n shop talk.\n\n\n \"I thought she went back anyway,\" he said.\n\n\n Lundgard nodded. \"She did. It was the usual question of economics.\n You know what refined fuel water costs in the Belt; also, the delay\n while we got it would have carried Earth and Achilles past optimum\n position, which'd make the trip home that much more expensive. Since we\n had one more man aboard than really required, it was cheaper to leave\n him behind; the difference in mass would make up for the fuel loss. I\n volunteered, even suggested the idea, because ... well, it happened\n during my watch, and even if nobody blamed me I couldn't help feeling\n guilty.\"\n\n\n Bo understood that kind of loyalty. You couldn't travel space without\n men who had it.\n\n\n \"The Company beamed a message: I'd stay here till their schedule\n permitted an undermanned ship to come by, but that wouldn't be for\n maybe months,\" went on Lundgard. \"I can't see sitting on this lump that\n long without so much as a chance at planetfall bonus. If you'll take me\n on, I'm sure the Company will agree; I'll get a message to them on the\n beam right away.\"\n\n\n \"Take us a while to get back,\" warned Bo. \"We're going to stop off at\n another asteroid to pick up some automatic equipment, and won't go into\n hyperbolic orbit till after that. About six weeks from here to Earth,\n all told.\"\n\n\n \"Against six months here?\" Lundgard laughed; it emphasized the bright\n charm of his manner. \"Sunblaze. I'll work for free.\"\n\n\n \"No need to. Bring your papers over tomorrow, huh?\"\n\n\n The certificate and record were perfectly in order, showing Einar\n Lundgard to be a Spacetech 1/cl with eight years' experience,\n qualified as engineer, astronaut, pilot, and any other of the thousand\n professions which have run into one. They registered articles and shook\n hands on it. \"Call me Bo. It really is my name ... Swedish.\"\n\n\n \"Another squarehead, eh?\" grinned Lundgard. \"I'm from South America\n myself.\"\n\n\n \"Notice a year's gap here,\" said Bo, pointing to the service record.\n \"On Venus.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes. I had some fool idea about settling but soon learned better.\n I tried to farm, but when you have to carve your own land out of\n howling desert—Well, let's start some math, shall we?\"\n\n\n They were lucky, not having to wait their turn at the station computer;\n no other ship was leaving immediately. They fed it the data and\n requirements, and got back columns of numbers: fuel requirements,\n acceleration times, orbital elements. The figures always had to be\n modified, no trip ever turned out just as predicted, but that could be\n done when needed with a slipstick and the little ship's calculator.\n\n\n Bo went at his share of the job doggedly, checking and re-checking\n before giving the problem to the machine; Lundgard breezed through it\n and spent his time while waiting for Bo in swapping dirty limericks\n with the tech. He had some good ones.\n\n\n The\nSirius\nwas loaded, inspected, and cleared. A \"scooter\" brought\n her three passengers up to her orbit, they embarked, settled down, and\n waited. At the proper time, acceleration jammed them back in a thunder\n of rockets.\n\n\n Bo relaxed against the thrust, thinking of Achilles falling away behind\n them. \"So long,\" he whispered. \"So long, Johnny.\"\nIII\n\n\n In another minute, he would be knotted and screaming from the bends,\n and a couple of minutes later he would be dead.\n\n\n Bo clamped his teeth together, as if he would grip consciousness in\n his jaws. His hands felt cold and heavy, the hands of a stranger, as\n he fumbled for the supply pouch. It seemed to recede from him, down a\n hollow infinite corridor where echoes talked in a language he did not\n know.\n\n\n \"Damn,\" he gasped. \"Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.\"\n\n\n He got the pouch open somehow. The stars wheeled around him. There\n were stars buzzing in his head, like cold white fireflies, buzzing and\n buzzing in the enormous ringing emptiness of his skull. Pain jagged\n through him, he felt his eardrums popping as pressure dropped.\n\n\n The plastic patch stuck to his metal gauntlet. He peeled it off, trying\n not to howl with the fury ripping in his nerves. His body was slow,\n inert, a thing to fight. There was no more feeling in his back, was he\n dead already?\n\n\n Redness flamed before his eyes, red like Valeria's hair blowing across\n the stars. It was sheer reflex which brought his arm around to slap the\n patch over the hole in his suit. The adhesive gripped, drying fast in\n the sucking vacuum. The patch bellied out from internal air pressure,\n straining to break loose and kill him.\n\n\n Bo's mind wavered back toward life. He opened the valves wide on his\n tanks, and his thermostatic capacitors pumped heat back into him. For\n a long time he lay there, only lungs and heart had motion. His throat\n felt withered and flayed, but the rasp of air through it was like being\n born again.\n\n\n Born, spewed out of an iron womb into a hollowness of stars and cold,\n to lie on naked rock while the enemy hunted him. Bo shuddered and\n wanted to scream again.\n\n\n Slowly he groped back toward awareness. His frostbitten back tingled\n as it warmed up again, soon it would be afire. He could feel a hot\n trickling of blood, but it was along his right side. The bullet must\n have spent most of its force punching through the armor, caromed off\n the inside, scratched his ribs, and fallen dead. Next time he probably\n wouldn't be so lucky. A magnetic-driven .30 slug would go through\n a helmet, splashing brains as it passed.\n\n\n He turned his head, feeling a great weariness, and looked at the\n gauges. This had cost him a lot of air. There was only about three\n hours worth left. Lundgard could kill him simply by waiting.\n\n\n It would be easy to die. He lay on his back, staring up at the stars\n and the spilling cloudy glory of the Milky Way. A warmth was creeping\n back into numbed hands and feet; soon he would be warm all over, and\n sleepy. His eyelids felt heavy, strange that they should be so heavy on\n an asteroid.\n\n\n He wanted terribly to sleep.\n", "questions": [{"question": "In his solitude, who did Bo consider more than once to be his companions?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_1", "options": ["The bugs that would come out after dark.", "The people he made up in his head.", "The stars.", "His lonely thoughts."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did these companions from his solitude think of Bo in return?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_2", "options": ["They thought nothing of him at all.", "They felt sorry for him.", "They were mildly entertained by him.", "They were deathly afraid of him."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is one thing that Bo takes solace in when he knows he is being hunted by the other man?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_3", "options": ["Bo knows that he can beat the man if the man comes at him in a fair fight.", "Once the man catches and kills him, then he can stop being lonely.", "The area where he awaits the man's arrival is vast, so the man might not find him.", "He knows he can kill the man first if he has the chance."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the fate of Bo's partner?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_4", "options": ["He is murdered over a woman.", "The man who is hunting Bo gets them confused and kills the partner instead.", "He is sent to a different planet to work on a different mission.", "He falls in love and gets married."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Bo say that rockhounds will never become rich?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_5", "options": ["He says that they spend their money on women rather than saving it.", "He says that they spend all of their money.", "He does not say that at all because he is aware that they make a lot of money.", "He knows that the government takes huge taxes from their wages."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Bo has always felt inferior to others intellectually.  How does Johnny try to convince him that that he is wrong?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_6", "options": ["Bo had to prove himself in many different ways to get where he is, which shows much intelligence.", "Johnny reminds Bo that being modest shows signs of intelligence.", "Bo is much smarter than Johnny, so he must be pretty bright.", "Bo had to outsmart many men in order to stay alive as long as he has."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does Bo profess attracts him to the doctor?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_7", "options": ["He is attracted to her intelligence.", "He knows she has feelings for him, and that is a turn-on to him.", "He is not attracted to her at all.", "Her unconventional beauty."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the enemy ultimately end up wounding Bo?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_8", "options": ["He pushes him off of the edge of the meteor, and that causes Bo to drift off into space", "He shoots Bo.", "He throws a knife and stabs Bo in the back.", "He sneaks up behind him and attacks him."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why would Bo not be allowed to take a ship back to Earth by himself?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_9", "options": ["The job is simply too big for one person, as it takes multiple people to perform the necessary functions of the ship.", "He can, as it technically only takes one person to pilot a ship back to Earth.", "It is a safety issue.", "It is against regulations because they do not want the loan person to go insane due to a lack of companionship."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Lundgard end up getting left behind and needing a companion back to Earth?", "question_unique_id": "63633_N3YQYXBC_10", "options": ["He was waiting behind to try to kill Johnny.", "He basically \"took one for the team\" for his last crew, as he made a mistake, causing them to need to leave one person behind.  He volunteered to stay.", "He is a criminal on the run, and he had not found a way to escape to Earth yet.", "He stayed behind for a woman, but their relationship dissolved."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/6/3/63633//63633-h//63633-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "63473", "set_unique_id": "63473_1VIHQ8TY", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1014", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Dust Unto Dust", "year": 1964, "author": "Hinckley, Lyman D.", "topic": "Extinct cities -- Fiction; PS; Outer space -- Exploration -- Fiction; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "DUST UNTO DUST\nBy LYMAN D. HINCKLEY\nIt was alien but was it dead, this towering, sinister\n\n city of metal that glittered malignantly before the\n\n cautious advance of three awed space-scouters.\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Planet Stories Summer 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nMartin set the lifeboat down carefully, with all the attention one\n usually exercises in a situation where the totally unexpected has\n occurred, and he and his two companions sat and stared in awed silence\n at the city a quarter-mile away.\n\n\n He saw the dull, black walls of buildings shouldering grimly into the\n twilight sky, saw the sheared edge where the metal city ended and the\n barren earth began ... and he remembered observing, even before they\n landed, the too-strict geometry imposed on the entire construction.\n\n\n He frowned. The first impression was ... malignant.\n\n\n Wass, blond and slight, with enough nose for three or four men,\n unbuckled his safety belt and stood up. \"Shall we, gentlemen?\" and with\n a graceful movement of hand and arm he indicated the waiting city.\n\n\n Martin led Wass, and the gangling, scarecrow-like Rodney, through the\n stillness overlaying the barren ground. There was only the twilight\n sky, and harsh and black against it, the convoluted earth. And the\n city. Malignant. He wondered, again, what beings would choose to build\n a city—even a city like this one—in such surroundings.\n\n\n The men from the ship knew only the surface facts about this waiting\n geometric discovery. Theirs was the eleventh inter-planetary flight,\n and the previous ten, in the time allowed them for exploration while\n this planet was still close enough to their own to permit a safe return\n in their ships, had not spotted the city. But the eleventh expedition\n had, an hour ago, with just thirteen hours left during which a return\n flight could be safely started. So far as was known, this was the only\n city on the planet—the planet without any life at all, save tiny\n mosses, for a million years or more. And no matter which direction from\n the city a man moved, he would always be going north.\n\n\n \"Hey, Martin!\" Rodney called through his helmet radio. Martin paused.\n \"Wind,\" Rodney said, coming abreast of him. He glanced toward the black\n pile, as if sharing Martin's thoughts. \"That's all we need, isn't it?\"\n\n\n Martin looked at the semi-transparent figures of wind and dust\n cavorting in the distance, moving toward them. He grinned a little,\n adjusting his radio. \"Worried?\"\n\n\n Rodney's bony face was without expression. \"Gives me the creeps, kind\n of. I wonder what they were like?\"\n\n\n Wass murmured, \"Let us hope they aren't immortal.\"\n\n\n Three feet from the edge of the city Martin stopped and stubbed at the\n sand with the toe of his boot, clearing earth from part of a shining\n metal band.\n\n\n Wass watched him, and then shoved aside more sand, several feet away.\n \"It's here, too.\"\n\n\n Martin stood up. \"Let's try farther on. Rodney, radio the ship, tell\n them we're going in.\"\n\n\n Rodney nodded.\n\n\n After a time, Wass said, \"Here, too. How far do you think it goes?\"\n\n\n Martin shrugged. \"Clear around the city? I'd like to know what it\n is—was—for.\"\n\n\n \"Defense,\" Rodney, several yards behind, suggested.\n\n\n \"Could be,\" Martin said. \"Let's go in.\"\n\n\n The three crossed the metal band and walked abreast down a street,\n their broad soft soled boots making no sound on the dull metal. They\n passed doors and arches and windows and separate buildings. They moved\n cautiously across five intersections. And they stood in a square\n surrounded by the tallest buildings in the city.\n\n\n Rodney broke the silence, hesitantly. \"Not—not very big. Is it?\"\n\n\n Wass looked at him shrewdly. \"Neither were the—well, shall we call\n them, people? Have you noticed how low everything is?\"\n\n\n Rodney's laughter rose, too. Then, sobering—\"Maybe they crawled.\"\n\n\n A nebulous image, product of childhood's vivid imagination, moved\n slowly across Martin's mind. \"All right!\" he rapped out—and the image\n faded.\n\n\n \"Sorry,\" Rodney murmured, his throat working beneath his lantern jaw.\n Then—\"I wonder what it's like here in the winter when there's no light\n at all?\"\n\n\n \"I imagine they had illumination of some sort,\" Martin answered, dryly.\n \"If we don't hurry up and get through this place and back to the ship,\n we're very likely to find out.\"\n\n\n Rodney said quickly, \"I mean outside.\"\n\n\n \"Out there, too, Rodney, they must have had illumination.\" Martin\n looked back along the straight, metal street they'd walked on, and past\n that out over the bleak, furrowed slopes where the ship's lifeboat\n lay ... and he thought everything outside the city seemed, somehow,\n from here, a little dim, a little hazy.\n\n\n He straightened his shoulders. The city was alien, of course, and that\n explained most of it ... most of it. But he felt the black city was\n something familiar, yet twisted and distorted.\n\n\n \"Well,\" Wass said, his nose wrinkling a bit, \"now that we're here....\"\n\n\n \"Pictures,\" Martin decided. \"We have twelve hours. We'll start here.\n What's the matter, Wass?\"\n\n\n The blond man grinned ruefully. \"I left the camera in the lifeboat.\"\n There was a pause. Then Wass, defensively—\"It's almost as if the city\n didn't want to be photographed.\"\n\n\n Martin ignored the remark. \"Go get it. Rodney and I will be somewhere\n along this street.\"\n\n\n Wass turned away. Martin and Rodney started slowly down the wide metal\n street, at right angles to their path of entrance.\n\n\n Again Martin felt a tug of twisted, distorted familiarity. It was\n almost as if ... they were human up to a certain point, the point\n being, perhaps, some part of their minds.... Alien things, dark and\n subtle, things no man could ever comprehend.\n\n\n Parallel evolution on two inner planets of the same system? Somewhere,\n sometime, a common ancestor? Martin noted the shoulder-high doors, the\n heavier gravity, remembered the inhabitants of the city vanished before\n the thing that was to become man ever emerged from the slime, and he\n decided to grin at himself, at his own imagination.\n\n\n Rodney jerked his scarecrow length about quickly, and a chill sped up\n Martin's spine. \"What's the matter?\"\n\n\n The bony face was white, the gray eyes were wide. \"I saw—I thought I\n saw—something—moving—\"\n\n\n Anger rose in Martin. \"You didn't,\" he said flatly, gripping the\n other's shoulder cruelly. \"You couldn't have. Get hold of yourself,\n man!\"\n\n\n Rodney stared. \"The wind. Remember? There isn't any, here.\"\n\n\n \"... How could there be? The buildings protect us now. It was blowing\n from the other direction.\"\n\n\n Rodney wrenched free of Martin's grip. He gestured wildly. \"That—\"\n\n\n \"Martin!\" Wass' voice came through the receivers in both their radios.\n \"Martin, I can't get out!\"\nRodney mumbled something, and Martin told him to shut up.\n\n\n Wass said, more quietly, \"Remember that metal band? It's all clear now,\n and glittering, as far as I can see. I can't get across it; it's like a\n glass wall.\"\n\n\n \"We're trapped, we're trapped, they are—\"\n\n\n \"Shut up, Rodney! Wass, I'm only two sections from the edge. I'll check\n here.\"\n\n\n Martin clapped a hand on Rodney's shoulder again, starting him moving,\n toward the city's edge, past the black, silent buildings.\n\n\n The glittering band was here, too, like a halo around a silhouette.\n\n\n \"No go,\" Martin said to Wass. He bit at his lower lip. \"I think it must\n be all around us.\" He was silent for a time, exploring the consequences\n of this. Then—\"We'll meet you in the middle of the city, where we\n separated.\"\n\n\n Walking with Rodney, Martin heard Wass' voice, flat and metallic\n through the radio receiver against his ear. \"What do you suppose caused\n this?\"\n\n\n He shook his head angrily, saying, \"Judging by reports of the rest of\n the planet, it must have been horribly radioactive at one time. All of\n it.\"\n\n\n \"Man-made radiation, you mean.\"\n\n\n Martin grinned faintly. Wass, too, had an active imagination. \"Well,\n alien-made, anyhow. Perhaps they had a war.\"\n\n\n Wass' voice sounded startled. \"Anti-radiation screen?\"\n\n\n Rodney interrupted, \"There hasn't been enough radiation around here for\n hundreds of thousands of years to activate such a screen.\"\n\n\n Wass said coldly, \"He's right, Martin.\"\n\n\n Martin crossed an intersection, Rodney slightly behind him. \"You're\n both wrong,\" he said. \"We landed here today.\"\n\n\n Rodney stopped in the middle of the metal street and stared down at\n Martin. \"The wind—?\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"That would explain why it stopped so suddenly, then.\" Rodney stood\n straighter. When he walked again, his steps were firmer.\n\n\n They reached the center of the city, ahead of the small, slight Wass,\n and stood watching him labor along the metal toward them.\n\n\n Wass' face, Martin saw, was sober. \"I tried to call the ship. No luck.\"\n\n\n \"The shield?\"\n\n\n Wass nodded. \"What else?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know—\"\n\n\n \"If we went to the roof of the tallest building,\" Rodney offered, \"we\n might—\"\n\n\n Martin shook his head. \"No. To be effective, the shield would have to\n cover the city.\"\n\n\n Wass stared down at the metal street, as if he could look through it.\n \"I wonder where it gets its power?\"\n\n\n \"Down below, probably. If there is a down below.\" Martin hesitated. \"We\n may have to....\"\n\n\n \"What?\" Rodney prompted.\n\n\n Martin shrugged. \"Let's look.\"\n\n\n He led the way through a shoulder-high arch in one of the tall\n buildings surrounding the square. The corridor inside was dim and\n plain, and he switched on his flashlight, the other two immediately\n following his example. The walls and the rounded ceiling of the\n corridor were of the same dull metal as the buildings' facades, and\n the streets. There were a multitude of doors and arches set into\n either side of the corridor.\n\n\n It was rather like ... entering a gigantic metal beehive.\n\n\n Martin chose an arch, with beyond it a metal ramp, which tilted\n downward, gleaming in the pale circle of his torch.\n\n\n A call from Rodney halted him. \"Back here,\" the tall man repeated. \"It\n looks like a switchboard.\"\n\n\n The three advanced to the end of the central corridor, pausing before a\n great arch, outlined in the too-careful geometrical figures Martin had\n come to associate with the city builders. The three torches, shining\n through the arch, picked out a bank of buttons, handles ... and a thick\n rope of cables which ran upward to vanish unexpectedly in the metal\n roof.\n\n\n \"Is this it,\" Wass murmured, \"or an auxiliary?\"\n\n\n Martin shrugged. \"The whole city's no more than a machine, apparently.\"\n\n\n \"Another assumption,\" Wass said. \"We have done nothing but make\n assumptions ever since we got here.\"\n\n\n \"What would you suggest, instead?\" Martin asked calmly.\n\n\n Rodney furtively, extended one hand toward a switch.\n\n\n \"No!\" Martin said, sharply. That was one assumption they dared not make.\n\n\n Rodney turned. \"But—\"\n\n\n \"No. Wass, how much time have we?\"\n\n\n \"The ship leaves in eleven hours.\"\n\n\n \"Eleven hours,\" Rodney repeated. \"Eleven hours!\" He reached out for the\n switch again. Martin swore, stepped forward, pulled him back roughly.\n\n\n He directed his flashlight at Rodney's thin, pale face. \"What do you\n think you're doing?\"\n\n\n \"We have to find out what all this stuff's for!\"\n\n\n \"Going at it blindly, we'd probably execute ourselves.\"\n\n\n \"We've got to—\"\n\n\n \"No!\" Then, more quietly—\"We still have eleven hours to find a way\n out.\"\n\n\n \"Ten hours and forty-five minutes,\" Wass disagreed softly. \"Minus the\n time it takes us to get to the lifeboat, fly to the ship, land, stow\n it, get ourselves aboard, and get the big ship away from the planet.\n And Captain Morgan can't wait for us, Martin.\"\n\n\n \"You too, Wass?\"\n\n\n \"Up to the point of accuracy, yes.\"\n\n\n Martin said, \"Not necessarily. You go the way the wind does, always\n thinking of your own tender hide, of course.\"\n\n\n Rodney cursed. \"And every second we stand here doing nothing gives us\n that much less time to find a way out. Martin—\"\n\n\n \"Make one move toward that switchboard and I'll stop you where you\n stand!\"\nWass moved silently through the darkness beyond the torches. \"We all\n have guns, Martin.\"\n\n\n \"I'm holding mine.\" Martin waited.\n\n\n After a moment, Wass switched his flashlight back on. He said quietly,\n \"He's right, Rodney. It would be sure death to monkey around in here.\"\n\n\n \"Well....\" Rodney turned quickly toward the black arch. \"Let's get out\n of here, then!\"\n\n\n Martin hung back waiting for the others to go ahead of him down the\n metal hall. At the other arch, where the ramp led downward, he called a\n halt. \"If the dome, or whatever it is, is a radiation screen there must\n be at least half-a-dozen emergency exits around the city.\"\n\n\n Rodney said, \"To search every building next to the dome clean around\n the city would take years.\"\n\n\n Martin nodded. \"But there must be central roads beneath this main level\n leading to them. Up here there are too many roads.\"\n\n\n Wass laughed rudely.\n\n\n \"Have you a better idea?\"\n\n\n Wass ignored that, as Martin hoped he would. He said slowly, \"That\n leads to another idea. If the band around the city is responsible for\n the dome, does it project down into the ground as well?\"\n\n\n \"You mean\ndig\nout?\" Martin asked.\n\n\n \"Sure. Why not?\"\n\n\n \"We're wearing heavy suits and bulky breathing units. We have no\n equipment.\"\n\n\n \"That shouldn't be hard to come by.\"\n\n\n Martin smiled, banishing Wass' idea.\n\n\n Rodney said, \"They may have had their digging equipment built right in\n to themselves.\"\n\n\n \"Anyway,\" Martin decided, \"we can take a look down below.\"\n\n\n \"In the pitch dark,\" Wass added.\n\n\n Martin adjusted his torch, began to lead the way down the metal ramp.\n The incline was gentle, apparently constructed for legs shorter, feet\n perhaps less broad than their own. The metal, without mark of any sort,\n gleamed under the combined light of the torches, unrolling out of the\n darkness before the men.\n\n\n At length the incline melted smoothly into the next level of the city.\n\n\n Martin shined his light upward, and the others followed his example.\n Metal as smooth and featureless as that on which they stood shone down\n on them.\n\n\n Wass turned his light parallel with the floor, and then moved slowly in\n a circle. \"No supports. No supports anywhere. What keeps all that up\n there?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know. I have no idea.\" Martin gestured toward the ramp with\n his light. \"Does all this, this whole place, look at all familiar to\n you?\"\n\n\n Rodney's gulp was clearly audible through the radio receivers. \"Here?\"\n\n\n \"No, no,\" Martin answered impatiently, \"not just here. I mean the whole\n city.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Wass said dryly, \"it does. I'm sure this is where all my\n nightmares stay when they're not on shift.\"\n\n\n Martin turned on his heel and started down a metal avenue which, he\n thought, paralleled the street above. And Rodney and Wass followed him\n silently. They moved along the metal, past unfamiliar shapes made more\n so by gloom and moving shadows, past doors dancing grotesquely in the\n three lights, past openings in the occasional high metal partitions,\n past something which was perhaps a conveyor belt, past another\n something which could have been anything at all.\n\n\n The metal street ended eventually in a blank metal wall.\n\n\n The edge of the city—the city which was a dome of force above and a\n bowl of metal below.\n\n\n After a long time, Wass sighed. \"Well, skipper...?\"\n\n\n \"We go back, I guess,\" Martin said.\n\n\n Rodney turned swiftly to face him. Martin thought the tall man was\n holding his gun. \"To the switchboard, Martin?\"\n\n\n \"Unless someone has a better idea,\" Martin conceded. He waited. But\n Rodney was holding the gun ... and Wass was.... Then—\"I can't think of\n anything else.\"\n\n\n They began to retrace their steps along the metal street, back past\n the same dancing shapes of metal, the partitions, the odd windows, all\n looking different now in the new angles of illumination.\n\n\n Martin was in the lead. Wass followed him silently. Rodney, tall,\n matchstick thin, even in his cumbersome suit, swayed with jaunty\n triumph in the rear.\n\n\n Martin looked at the metal street lined with its metal objects and he\n sighed. He remembered how the dark buildings of the city looked at\n surface level, how the city itself looked when they were landing, and\n then when they were walking toward it. The dream was gone again for\n now. Idealism died in him, again and again, yet it was always reborn.\n But—The only city, so far as anyone knew, on the first planet they'd\n ever explored. And it had to be like this. Nightmares, Wass said, and\n Martin thought perhaps the city was built by a race of beings who at\n some point twisted away from their evolutionary spiral, plagued by a\n sort of racial insanity.\n\n\n No, Martin thought, shaking his head. No, that couldn't be.\n Viewpoint ... his viewpoint. It was the haunting sense of familiarity,\n a faint strain through all this broad jumble, the junkpile of alien\n metal, which was making him theorize so wildly.\n\n\n Then Wass touched his elbow. \"Look there, Martin. Left of the ramp.\"\n\n\n Light from their torches was reflected, as from glass.\n\n\n \"All right,\" Rodney said belligerently into his radio. \"What's holding\n up the procession?\"\n\n\n Martin was silent.\n\n\n Wass undertook to explain. Why not, after all? Martin asked himself. It\n was in Wass' own interest. In a moment, all three were standing before\n a bank of glass cases which stretched off into the distance as far as\n the combined light of their torches would reach.\n\n\n \"Seeds!\" Wass exclaimed, his faceplate pressed against the glass.\n\n\n Martin blinked. He thought how little time they had. He wet his lips.\n\n\n Wass' gloved hands fumbled awkwardly at a catch in the nearest section\n of the bank.\n\n\n Martin thought of the dark, convoluted land outside the city. If they\n wouldn't grow there.... Or had they, once? \"Don't, Wass!\"\n\n\n Torchlight reflected from Wass' faceplate as he turned his head. \"Why\n not?\"\n\n\n They were like children.... \"We don't know, released, what they'll do.\"\n\n\n \"Skipper,\" Wass said carefully, \"if we don't get out of this place by\n the deadline we may be eating these.\"\n\n\n Martin raised his arm tensely. \"Opening a seed bank doesn't help us\n find a way out of here.\" He started up the ramp. \"Besides, we've no\n water.\"\n\n\n Rodney came last up the ramp, less jaunty now, but still holding the\n gun. His mind, too, was taken up with childhood's imaginings. \"For\n a plant to grow in this environment, it wouldn't need much water.\n Maybe—\" he had a vision of evil plants attacking them, growing with\n super-swiftness at the air valves and joints of their suits \"—only the\n little moisture in the atmosphere.\"\nThey stood before the switchboard again. Martin and Wass side by side,\n Rodney, still holding his gun, slightly to the rear.\n\n\n Rodney moved forward a little toward the switches. His breathing was\n loud and rather uneven in the radio receivers.\n\n\n Martin made a final effort. \"Rodney, it's still almost nine hours to\n take off. Let's search awhile first. Let this be a last resort.\"\n\n\n Rodney jerked his head negatively. \"No. Now, I know you, Martin.\n Postpone and postpone until it's too late, and the ship leaves without\n us and we're stranded here to eat seeds and gradually dehydrate\n ourselves and God only knows what else and—\"\n\n\n He reached out convulsively and yanked a switch.\n\n\n Martin leaped, knocking him to the floor. Rodney's gun skittered away\n silently, like a live thing, out of the range of the torches.\n\n\n The radio receivers impersonally recorded the grating sounds of\n Rodney's sobs.\n\n\n \"Sorry,\" Martin said, without feeling. He turned quickly. \"Wass?\"\n\n\n The slight, blond man stood unmoving. \"I'm with you, Martin, but, as\n a last resort it might be better to be blown sky high than to die\n gradually—\"\n\n\n Martin was watching Rodney, struggling to get up. \"I agree. As a last\n resort. We still have a little time.\"\n\n\n Rodney's tall, spare figure looked bowed and tired in the torchlight,\n now that he was up again. \"Martin, I—\"\n\n\n Martin turned his back. \"Skip it, Rodney,\" he said gently.\n\n\n \"Water,\" Wass said thoughtfully. \"There must be reservoirs under this\n city somewhere.\"\n\n\n Rodney said, \"How does water help us get out?\"\n\n\n Martin glanced at Wass, then started out of the switchboard room, not\n looking back. \"It got in and out of the city some way. Perhaps we can\n leave the same way.\"\n\n\n Down the ramp again.\n\n\n \"There's another ramp,\" Wass murmured.\n\n\n Rodney looked down it. \"I wonder how many there are, all told.\"\n\n\n Martin placed one foot on the metal incline. He angled his torch down,\n picking out shadowy, geometrical shapes, duplicates of the ones on the\n present level. \"We'll find out,\" he said, \"how many there are.\"\n\n\n Eleven levels later Rodney asked, \"How much time have we now?\"\n\n\n \"Seven hours,\" Wass said quietly, \"until take-off.\"\n\n\n \"One more level,\" Martin said, ignoring the reference to time. \"I ...\n think it's the last.\"\n\n\n They walked down the ramp and stood together, silent in a dim pool of\n artificial light on the bottom level of the alien city.\n\n\n Rodney played his torch about the metal figures carefully placed about\n the floor. \"Martin, what if there are no reservoirs? What if there are\n cemeteries instead? Or cold storage units? Maybe the switch I pulled—\"\n\n\n \"Rodney! Stop it!\"\n\n\n Rodney swallowed audibly. \"This place scares me....\"\n\n\n \"The first time I was ever in a rocket, it scared me. I was thirteen.\"\n\n\n \"This is different,\" Wass said. \"Built-in traps—\"\n\n\n \"They had a war,\" Martin said.\n\n\n Wass agreed. \"And the survivors retired here. Why?\"\n\n\n Martin said, \"They wanted to rebuild. Or maybe this was already built\n before the war as a retreat.\" He turned impatiently. \"How should I\n know?\"\n\n\n Wass turned, too, persistent. \"But the planet was through with them.\"\n\n\n \"In a minute,\" Martin said, too irritably, \"we'll have a sentient\n planet.\" From the corner of his eye he saw Rodney start at that. \"Knock\n it off, Wass. We're looking for reservoirs, you know.\"\n\n\n They moved slowly down the metal avenue, between the twisted shadow\n shapes, looking carefully about them.\n\n\n Rodney paused. \"We might not recognize one.\"\n\n\n Martin urged him on. \"You know what a man-hole cover looks like.\" He\n added dryly, \"Use your imagination.\"\n\n\n They reached the metal wall at the end of the avenue and paused again,\n uncertain.\n\n\n Martin swung his flashlight, illuminating the distorted metal shapes.\n\n\n Wass said, \"All this had a purpose, once....\"\n\n\n \"We'll disperse and search carefully,\" Martin said.\n\n\n \"I wonder what the pattern was.\"\n\n\n \"... The reservoirs, Wass. The pattern will still be here for later\n expeditions to study. So will we if we don't find a way to get out.\"\n\n\n Their radios recorded Rodney's gasp. Then—\"Martin! Martin! I think\n I've found something!\"\n\n\n Martin began to run. After a moment's hesitation, Wass swung in behind\n him.\n\n\n \"Here,\" Rodney said, as they came up to him, out of breath. \"Here. See?\n Right here.\"\n\n\n Three flashlights centered on a dark, metal disk raised a foot or more\n from the floor.\n\n\n \"Well, they had hands.\" With his torch Wass indicated a small wheel of\n the same metal as everything else in the city, set beside the disk.\n\n\n From its design Martin assumed that the disk was meant to be grasped\n and turned. He wondered what precisely they were standing over.\n\n\n \"Well, Skipper, are you going to do the honors?\"\n\n\n Martin kneeled, grasped the wheel. It turned easily—almost too\n easily—rotating the disk as it turned.\n\n\n Suddenly, without a sound, the disk rose, like a hatch, on a concealed\n hinge.\n\n\n The three men, clad in their suits and helmets, grouped around the\n six-foot opening, shining their torches down into the thing that\n drifted and eddied directly beneath them.\n\n\n Rodney's sudden grip on Martin's wrist nearly shattered the bone.\n \"Martin! It's all alive! It's moving!\"\n\n\n Martin hesitated long enough for a coil to move sinuously up toward the\n opening. Then he spun the wheel and the hatch slammed down.\n\n\n He was shaking.\nAfter a time he said, \"Rodney, Wass, it's dust, down there. Remember\n the wind? Air currents are moving it.\"\n\n\n Rodney sat down on the metal flooring. For a long time he said nothing.\n Then—\"It wasn't.... Why did you close the hatch then?\"\n\n\n Martin did not say he thought the other two would have shot him,\n otherwise. He said merely, \"At first I wasn't sure myself.\"\n\n\n Rodney stood up, backing away from the closed hatch. He held his gun\n loosely, and his hand shook. \"Then prove it. Open it again.\"\n\n\n Martin went to the wheel. He noticed Wass was standing behind Rodney\n and he, too, had drawn his gun.\n\n\n The hatch rose again at Martin's direction. He stood beside it,\n outlined in the light of two torches.\n\n\n For a little while he was alone.\n\n\n Then—causing a gasp from Wass, a harsh expletive from Rodney—a\n tenuous, questing alien limb edged through the hatch, curling about\n Martin, sparkling in ten thousand separate particles in the torchlight,\n obscuring the dimly seen backdrop of geometrical processions of strange\n objects.\nMartin raised an arm, and the particles swirled in stately, shimmering\n spirals.\n\n\n Rodney leaned forward and looked over the edge of the hatch. He said\n nothing. He eyed the sparkling particles swirling about Martin, and\n now, himself.\n\n\n \"How deep,\" Wass said, from his safe distance.\n\n\n \"We'll have to lower a flashlight,\" Martin answered.\n\n\n Rodney, all eagerness to be of assistance now, lowered a rope with a\n torch swinging wildly on the end of it.\n\n\n The torch came to rest about thirty feet down. It shone on gently\n rolling mounds of fine, white stuff.\n\n\n Martin anchored the rope soundly, and paused, half across the lip\n of the hatch to stare coldly at Wass. \"You'd rather monkey with the\n switches and blow yourself to smithereens?\"\n\n\n Wass sighed and refused to meet Martin's gaze. Martin looked at him\n disgustedly, and then began to descend the rope, slowly, peering into\n the infinite, sparkling darkness pressing around him. At the bottom\n of the rope he sank to his knees in dust, and then was held even. He\n stamped his feet, and then, as well as he was able, did a standing\n jump. He sank no farther than his knees.\n\n\n He sighted a path parallel with the avenue above, toward the nearest\n edge of the city. \"I think we'll be all right,\" he called out, \"as long\n as we avoid the drifts.\"\n\n\n Rodney began the descent. Looking up, Martin saw Wass above Rodney.\n\n\n \"All right, Wass,\" Martin said quietly, as Rodney released the rope and\n sank into the dust.\n\n\n \"Not me,\" the answer came back quickly. \"You two fools go your way,\n I'll go mine.\"\n\n\n \"Wass!\"\n\n\n There was no answer. The light faded swiftly away from the opening.\n\n\n The going was hard. The dust clung like honey to their feet, and eddied\n and swirled about them until the purifying systems in their suits were\n hard-pressed to remove the fine stuff working in at joints and valves.\n\n\n \"Are we going straight?\" Rodney asked.\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Martin growled.\n\n\n There was silence again, the silence of almost-exhausted determination.\n The two men lifted their feet out of the dust, and then laboriously\n plunged forward, to sink again to the knees, repeated the act, times\n without number.\n\n\n Then Wass broke his silence, taunting. \"The ship leaves in two hours,\n Martin. Two hours. Hear me, Rodney?\"\n\n\n Martin pulled his left foot from the sand and growled deep in his\n throat. Ahead, through the confusing patterns of the sparkling dust,\n his flashlight gleamed against metal. He grabbed Rodney's arm, pointed.\n\n\n A grate.\n\n\n Rodney stared. \"Wass!\" he shouted. \"We've found a way out!\"\n\n\n Their radios recorded Wass' laughter. \"I'm at the switchboard now,\n Martin. I—\"\n\n\n There was a tinkle of breaking glass, breaking faceplate.\n\n\n The grate groaned upward and stopped.\n\n\n Wass babbled incoherently into the radio for a moment, and then he\n began to scream.\n\n\n Martin switched off his radio, sick.\n\n\n He turned it on again when they reached the opening in the metal wall.\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"I've been trying to get you,\" Rodney said, frantically. \"Why didn't\n you answer?\"\n\n\n \"We couldn't do anything for him.\"\n\n\n Rodney's face was white and drawn. \"But he did this for us.\"\n\n\n \"So he did,\" Martin said, very quietly.\n\n\n Rodney said nothing.\n\n\n Then Martin said, \"Did you listen until the end?\"\n\n\n Rodney nodded, jerkily. \"He pulled three more switches. I couldn't\n understand it all. But—Martin, dying alone like that in a place like\n this—!\"\n\n\n Martin crawled into the circular pipe behind the grate. It tilted up\n toward the surface. \"Come on, Rodney. Last lap.\"\n\n\n An hour later they surfaced about two hundred yards away from the\n edge of the city. Behind them the black pile rose, the dome of force\n shimmering, almost invisible, about it.\n\n\n Ahead of them were the other two scoutships from the mother ship.\n Martin called out faintly, pulling Rodney out of the pipe. Crew members\n standing by the scoutships, and at the edge of the city, began to run\n toward them.\n\n\n \"Radio picked you up as soon as you entered the pipe,\" someone said. It\n was the last thing Martin heard before he collapsed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "The crew has thirteen hours to explore the area. Concerning that time, what do they not always take into account?", "question_unique_id": "63473_1VIHQ8TY_1", "options": ["They lost an hour when crossing into a different time zone.", "Time on this planet does not occur the same way they are used to. ", "They have to take into account getting back to their mother ship and getting it out of the atmosphere during that 13-hour window, as well.", "The planet makes them forget time."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many other expeditions ventured to the planet without noticing the city?", "question_unique_id": "63473_1VIHQ8TY_2", "options": ["11", "10", "0", "7"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "The explorers note the metal band around the city and assume that it is there for defense.  What is ironic about the way they opt to proceed?", "question_unique_id": "63473_1VIHQ8TY_3", "options": ["They decide to leave the city even though the defense mechanism has not worked for millions of years.  Had they gone on, they would have been rich beyond their wildest dreams.", "They do not believe that the defense mechanism will be engaged, so they venture on.", "They feel that even though the city could be defended, they do not feel that it will match the defenses they bring with them, thus proceeding.", "They become afraid that they will be attacked even though this planet has been abandoned for millions of years."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Wass end up being sent back to the lifeboat?", "question_unique_id": "63473_1VIHQ8TY_4", "options": ["He cannot be trusted, and the others make him leave.", "He must make contact with the mother ship because one of the others was injured.", "He forgot the camera and has to go back to get it.", "His attitude is bringing the rest of them down, so they make him leave."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The crew agrees that the city is", "question_unique_id": "63473_1VIHQ8TY_5", "options": ["completely dead and worthless for any sort of exploration.", "a machine of some sort.", "full of magical wonders and they must return to the mother ship to let the others know.", "just a typical city."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Running out of options, the crew decides to follow ", "question_unique_id": "63473_1VIHQ8TY_6", "options": ["Their heart.", "The map.", "Their instincts.", "The passage where water enters and exits the city."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the crew find that somehow makes them all start to think of ways to escape?", "question_unique_id": "63473_1VIHQ8TY_7", "options": ["a book from their home planet.", "The switchboard.", "instructions from those before them.", "seedpods."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is ultimately their way to freedom?", "question_unique_id": "63473_1VIHQ8TY_8", "options": ["Their souls were set free when they all died on the planet.", "Eating the seedpods transported them back to their ship.", "Wass sacrificed himself by using the switchboard, which released the others.", "Following the route of the water."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/3/4/7/63473//63473-h//63473-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "61434", "set_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1014", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Mightiest Qorn", "year": 1955, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "PS; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Short stories; Diplomats -- Fiction; Science fiction; Retief (Fictitious character) -- Fiction", "article": "MIGHTIEST QORN\nBY KEITH LAUMER\nSly, brave and truculent, the Qornt\n\n held all humans in contempt—except one!\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, July 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nI\n\n\n Ambassador Nitworth glowered across his mirror-polished, nine-foot\n platinum desk at his assembled staff.\n\n\n \"Gentlemen, are any of you familiar with a race known as the Qornt?\"\n\n\n There was a moment of profound silence. Nitworth leaned forward,\n looking solemn.\n\n\n \"They were a warlike race known in this sector back in Concordiat\n times, perhaps two hundred years ago. They vanished as suddenly as\n they had appeared. There was no record of where they went.\" He paused\n for effect.\n\n\n \"They have now reappeared—occupying the inner planet of this system!\"\n\n\n \"But, sir,\" Second Secretary Magnan offered. \"That's uninhabited\n Terrestrial territory....\"\n\n\n \"Indeed, Mr. Magnan?\" Nitworth smiled icily. \"It appears the Qornt do\n not share that opinion.\" He plucked a heavy parchment from a folder\n before him, harrumphed and read aloud:\n\n\n His Supreme Excellency The Qorn, Regent of Qornt, Over-Lord of the\n Galactic Destiny, Greets the Terrestrials and, with reference to the\n presence in mandated territory of Terrestrial squatters, has the honor\n to advise that he will require the use of his outer world on the\n thirtieth day. Then will the Qornt come with steel and fire. Receive,\n Terrestrials, renewed assurances of my awareness of your existence,\n and let Those who dare gird for the contest.\n\n\n \"Frankly, I wouldn't call it conciliatory,\" Magnan said.\n\n\n Nitworth tapped the paper with a finger.\n\n\n \"We have been served, gentlemen, with nothing less than an Ultimatum!\"\n\n\n \"Well, we'll soon straighten these fellows out—\" the Military Attache\n began.\n\n\n \"There happens to be more to this piece of truculence than appears on\n the surface,\" the Ambassador cut in. He paused, waiting for interested\n frowns to settle into place.\n\n\n \"Note, gentlemen, that these invaders have appeared on terrestrial\n controlled soil—and without so much as a flicker from the instruments\n of the Navigational Monitor Service!\"\n\n\n The Military Attache blinked. \"That's absurd,\" he said flatly. Nitworth\n slapped the table.\n\n\n \"We're up against something new, gentlemen! I've considered every\n hypothesis from cloaks of invisibility to time travel! The fact is—the\n Qornt fleets are indetectible!\"\nThe Military Attache pulled at his lower lip. \"In that case, we can't\n try conclusions with these fellows until we have an indetectible drive\n of our own. I recommend a crash project. In the meantime—\"\n\n\n \"I'll have my boys start in to crack this thing,\" the Chief of the\n Confidential Terrestrial Source Section spoke up. \"I'll fit out a\n couple of volunteers with plastic beaks—\"\n\n\n \"No cloak and dagger work, gentlemen! Long range policy will be\n worked out by Deep-Think teams back at the Department. Our role will\n be a holding action. Now I want suggestions for a comprehensive,\n well rounded and decisive course for meeting this threat. Any\n recommendation?\"\n\n\n The Political Officer placed his fingertips together. \"What about a\n stiff Note demanding an extra week's time?\"\n\n\n \"No! No begging,\" the Economic Officer objected. \"I'd say a calm,\n dignified, aggressive withdrawal—as soon as possible.\"\n\n\n \"We don't want to give them the idea we spook easily,\" the Military\n Attache said. \"Let's delay the withdrawal—say, until tomorrow.\"\n\n\n \"Early tomorrow,\" Magnan said. \"Or maybe later today.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I see you're of a mind with me,\" Nitworth nodded. \"Our plan of\n action is clear, but it remains to be implemented. We have a population\n of over fifteen million individuals to relocate.\" He eyed the\n Political Officer. \"I want five proposals for resettlement on my desk\n by oh-eight-hundred hours tomorrow.\" Nitworth rapped out instructions.\n Harried-looking staff members arose and hurried from the room. Magnan\n eased toward the door.\n\n\n \"Where are you going, Magnan?\" Nitworth snapped.\n\n\n \"Since you're so busy, I thought I'd just slip back down to Com Inq. It\n was a most interesting orientation lecture, Mr. Ambassador. Be sure to\n let us know how it works out.\"\n\n\n \"Kindly return to your chair,\" Nitworth said coldly. \"A number of\n chores remain to be assigned. I think you, Magnan, need a little field\n experience. I want you to get over to Roolit I and take a look at these\n Qornt personally.\"\n\n\n Magnan's mouth opened and closed soundlessly.\n\n\n \"Not afraid of a few Qornt, are you, Magnan?\"\n\n\n \"Afraid? Good lord, no, ha ha. It's just that I'm afraid I may lose my\n head and do something rash if I go.\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense! A diplomat is immune to heroic impulses. Take Retief along.\n No dawdling, now! I want you on the way in two hours. Notify the\n transport pool at once. Now get going!\"\n\n\n Magnan nodded unhappily and went into the hall.\n\n\n \"Oh, Retief,\" Nitworth said. Retief turned.\n\n\n \"Try to restrain Mr. Magnan from any impulsive moves—in any\n direction.\"\nII\n\n\n Retief and Magnan topped a ridge and looked down across a slope\n of towering tree-shrubs and glossy violet-stemmed palms set among\n flamboyant blossoms of yellow and red, reaching down to a strip of\n white beach with the blue sea beyond.\n\n\n \"A delightful vista,\" Magnan said, mopping at his face. \"A pity we\n couldn't locate the Qornt. We'll go back now and report—\"\n\n\n \"I'm pretty sure the settlement is off to the right,\" Retief said. \"Why\n don't you head back for the boat, while I ease over and see what I can\n observe.\"\n\n\n \"Retief, we're engaged in a serious mission. This is not a time to\n think of sightseeing.\"\n\n\n \"I'd like to take a good look at what we're giving away.\"\n\n\n \"See here, Retief! One might almost receive the impression that you're\n questioning Corps policy!\"\n\n\n \"One might, at that. The Qornt have made their play, but I think it\n might be valuable to take a look at their cards before we fold. If I'm\n not back at the boat in an hour, lift without me.\"\n\n\n \"You expect me to make my way back alone?\"\n\n\n \"It's directly down-slope—\" Retief broke off, listening. Magnan\n clutched at his arm.\n\n\n There was a sound of crackling foliage. Twenty feet ahead, a leafy\n branch swung aside. An eight-foot biped stepped into view, long, thin,\n green-clad legs with back-bending knees moving in quick, bird-like\n steps. A pair of immense black-lensed goggles covered staring eyes set\n among bushy green hair above a great bone-white beak. The crest bobbed\n as the creature cocked its head, listening.\n\n\n Magnan gulped audibly. The Qornt froze, head tilted, beak aimed\n directly at the spot where the Terrestrials stood in the deep shade of\n a giant trunk.\n\n\n \"I'll go for help,\" Magnan squeaked. He whirled and took three leaps\n into the brush.\n\n\n A second great green-clad figure rose up to block his way. He spun,\n darted to the left. The first Qornt pounced, grappled Magnan to its\n narrow chest. Magnan yelled, threshing and kicking, broke free,\n turned—and collided with the eight-foot alien, coming in fast from the\n right. All three went down in a tangle of limbs.\n\n\n Retief jumped forward, hauled Magnan free, thrust him aside and\n stopped, right fist cocked. The two Qornt lay groaning feebly.\n\n\n \"Nice piece of work, Mr. Magnan,\" Retief said. \"You nailed both of\n them.\"\n\"Those undoubtedly are the most bloodthirsty, aggressive, merciless\n countenances it has ever been my misfortune to encounter,\" Magnan said.\n \"It hardly seems fair. Eight feet tall\nand\nfaces like that!\"\n\n\n The smaller of the two captive Qornt ran long, slender fingers over\n a bony shin, from which he had turned back the tight-fitting green\n trousers.\n\n\n \"It's not broken,\" he whistled nasally in passable Terrestrial, eyeing\n Magnan through the heavy goggles, now badly cracked. \"Small thanks to\n you.\"\n\n\n Magnan smiled loftily. \"I daresay you'll think twice before interfering\n with peaceable diplomats in future.\"\n\n\n \"Diplomats? Surely you jest.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind us,\" Retief said. \"It's you fellows we'd like to talk\n about. How many of you are there?\"\n\n\n \"Only Zubb and myself.\"\n\n\n \"I mean altogether. How many Qornt?\"\n\n\n The alien whistled shrilly.\n\n\n \"Here, no signalling!\" Magnan snapped, looking around.\n\n\n \"That was merely an expression of amusement.\"\n\n\n \"You find the situation amusing? I assure you, sir, you are in perilous\n straits at the moment. I\nmay\nfly into another rage, you know.\"\n\n\n \"Please, restrain yourself. I was merely somewhat astonished—\" a small\n whistle escaped—\"at being taken for a Qornt.\"\n\n\n \"Aren't you a Qornt?\"\n\n\n \"I? Great snail trails, no!\" More stifled whistles of amusement escaped\n the beaked face. \"Both Zubb and I are Verpp. Naturalists, as it\n happens.\"\n\n\n \"You certainly\nlook\nlike Qornt.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, not at all—except perhaps to a Terrestrial. The Qornt are\n sturdily built rascals, all over ten feet in height. And, of course,\n they do nothing but quarrel. A drone caste, actually.\"\n\n\n \"A caste? You mean they're biologically the same as you?\"\n\n\n \"Not at all! A Verpp wouldn't think of fertilizing a Qornt.\"\n\n\n \"I mean to say, you are of the same basic stock—descended from a\n common ancestor, perhaps.\"\n\n\n \"We are all Pud's creatures.\"\n\n\n \"What are the differences between you, then?\"\n\n\n \"Why, the Qornt are argumentive, boastful, lacking in appreciation\n for the finer things of life. One dreads to contemplate descending to\ntheir\nlevel.\"\n\n\n \"Do you know anything about a Note passed to the Terrestrial Ambassador\n at Smorbrod?\" Retief asked.\nThe beak twitched. \"Smorbrod? I know of no place called Smorbrod.\"\n\n\n \"The outer planet of this system.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes. We call it Guzzum. I had heard that some sort of creatures\n had established a settlement there, but I confess I pay little note to\n such matters.\"\n\n\n \"We're wasting time, Retief,\" Magnan said. \"We must truss these chaps\n up, hurry back to the boat and make our escape. You heard what they\n said.\"\n\n\n \"Are there any Qornt down there at the harbor, where the boats are?\"\n Retief asked.\n\n\n \"At Tarroon, you mean? Oh, yes. Planning some adventure.\"\n\n\n \"That would be the invasion of Smorbrod,\" Magnan said. \"And unless we\n hurry, Retief, we're likely to be caught there with the last of the\n evacuees!\"\n\n\n \"How many Qornt would you say there are at Tarroon?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, a very large number. Perhaps fifteen or twenty.\"\n\n\n \"Fifteen or twenty what?\" Magnan looked perplexed.\n\n\n \"Fifteen or twenty Qornt.\"\n\n\n \"You mean that there are only fifteen or twenty individual Qornt in\n all?\"\n\n\n Another whistle. \"Not at all. I was referring to the local Qornt only.\n There are more at the other Centers, of course.\"\n\n\n \"And the Qornt are responsible for the ultimatum—unilaterally?\"\n\n\n \"I suppose so; it sounds like them. A truculent group, you know. And\n interplanetary relations\nare\nrather a hobby of theirs.\"\n\n\n Zubb moaned and stirred. He sat up slowly, rubbing his head. He spoke\n to his companion in a shrill alien clatter of consonants.\n\n\n \"What did he say?\"\n\n\n \"Poor Zubb. He blames me for his bruises, since it was my idea to\n gather you as specimens.\"\n\n\n \"You should have known better than to tackle that fierce-looking\n creature,\" Zubb said, pointing his beak at Magnan.\n\n\n \"How does it happen that you speak Terrestrial?\" Retief asked.\n\n\n \"Oh, one picks up all sorts of dialects.\"\n\n\n \"It's quite charming, really,\" Magnan said. \"Such a quaint, archaic\n accent.\"\n\n\n \"Suppose we went down to Tarroon,\" Retief asked. \"What kind of\n reception would we get?\"\n\n\n \"That depends. I wouldn't recommend interfering with the Gwil or the\n Rheuk; it's their nest-mending time, you know. The Boog will be busy\n mating—such a tedious business—and of course the Qornt are tied up\n with their ceremonial feasting. I'm afraid no one will take any notice\n of you.\"\n\n\n \"Do you mean to say,\" Magnan demanded, \"that these ferocious Qornt, who\n have issued an ultimatum to the Corps Diplomatique Terrestrienne—who\n openly avow their occupied world—would ignore Terrestrials in their\n midst?\"\n\n\n \"If at all possible.\"\n\n\n Retief got to his feet.\n\n\n \"I think our course is clear, Mr. Magnan. It's up to us to go down and\n attract a little attention.\"\nIII\n\n\n \"I'm not at all sure we're going about this in the right way,\" Magnan\n puffed, trotting at Retief's side. \"These fellows Zubb and Slun—Oh,\n they seem affable enough, but how can we be sure we're not being led\n into a trap?\"\n\n\n \"We can't.\"\n\n\n Magnan stopped short. \"Let's go back.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" Retief said. \"Of course there may be an ambush—\"\n\n\n Magnan moved off. \"Let's keep going.\"\n\n\n The party emerged from the undergrowth at the edge of a great\n brush-grown mound. Slun took the lead, rounded the flank of the\n hillock, halted at a rectangular opening cut into the slope.\n\n\n \"You can find your way easily enough from here,\" he said. \"You'll\n excuse us, I hope—\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense, Slun!\" Zubb pushed forward. \"I'll escort our guests to Qornt\n Hall.\" He twittered briefly to his fellow Verpp. Slun twittered back.\n\n\n \"I don't like it, Retief,\" Magnan whispered. \"Those fellows are\n plotting mischief.\"\n\n\n \"Threaten them with violence, Mr Magnan. They're scared of you.\"\n\n\n \"That's true. And the drubbing they received was well-deserved. I'm a\n patient man, but there are occasions—\"\n\n\n \"Come along, please,\" Zubb called. \"Another ten minutes' walk—\"\n\n\n \"See here, we have no interest in investigating this barrow,\" Magnan\n announced. \"We wish you to take us direct to Tarroon to interview your\n military leaders regarding the ultimatum!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, of course. Qornt Hall lies here inside the village.\"\n\n\n \"This is Tarroon?\"\n\n\n \"A modest civic center, sir, but there are those who love it.\"\n\n\n \"No wonder we didn't observe their works from the air,\" Magnan\n muttered. \"Camouflaged.\" He moved hesitantly through the opening.\n\n\n The party moved along a wide, deserted tunnel which sloped down\n steeply, then leveled off and branched. Zubb took the center branch,\n ducking slightly under the nine-foot ceiling lit at intervals with what\n appeared to be primitive incandescent panels.\n\n\n \"Few signs of an advanced technology here,\" Magnan whispered. \"These\n creatures must devote all their talents to warlike enterprise.\"\n\n\n Ahead, Zubb slowed. A distant susurration was audible, a sustained\n high-pitched screeching. \"Softly, now. We approach Qornt Hall. They\n can be an irascible lot when disturbed at their feasting.\"\n\n\n \"When will the feast be over?\" Magnan called hoarsely.\n\n\n \"In another few weeks, I should imagine, if, as you say, they've\n scheduled an invasion for next month.\"\n\n\n \"Look here, Zubb.\" Magnan shook a finger at the tall alien. \"How is it\n that these Qornt are allowed to embark on piratical ventures of this\n sort without reference to the wishes of the majority?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, the majority of the Qornt favor the move, I imagine.\"\n\n\n \"These few hotheads are permitted to embroil the planet in war?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, they don't embroil the planet in war. They merely—\"\n\n\n \"Retief, this is fantastic! I've heard of iron-fisted military cliques\n before, but this is madness!\"\n\n\n \"Come softly, now.\" Zubb beckoned, moving toward a bend in the\n yellow-lit corridor. Retief and Magnan moved forward.\nThe corridor debouched through a high double door into a vast oval\n chamber, high-domed, gloomy, paneled in dark wood and hung with\n tattered banners, scarred halberds, pikes, rusted longswords, crossed\n spears over patinaed hauberks, pitted radiation armor, corroded power\n rifles, the immense mummified heads of horned and fanged animals. Great\n guttering torches in wall brackets and in stands along the length\n of the long table shed a smoky light that reflected from the mirror\n polish of the red granite floor, gleamed on polished silver bowls and\n paper-thin glass, shone jewel-red and gold through dark bottles—and\n cast long flickering shadows behind the fifteen trolls at the board.\n\n\n Lesser trolls—beaked, bush-haired, great-eyed—trotted briskly,\n bird-kneed, bearing steaming platters, stood in groups of\n three strumming slender bottle-shaped lutes, or pranced an\n intricate-patterned dance, unnoticed in the shrill uproar as each of\n the magnificently draped, belted, feathered and jeweled Qornt carried\n on a shouted conversation with an equally noisy fellow.\n\n\n \"A most interesting display of barbaric splendor,\" Magnan breathed.\n \"Now we'd better be getting back.\"\n\n\n \"Ah, a moment,\" Zubb said. \"Observe the Qornt—the tallest of the\n feasters—he with the head-dress of crimson, purple, silver and pink.\"\n\n\n \"Twelve feet if he's an inch,\" Magnan estimated. \"And now we really\n must hurry along—\"\n\n\n \"That one is chief among these rowdies. I'm sure you'll want a word\n with him. He controls not only the Tarroonian vessels but those from\n the other Centers as well.\"\n\n\n \"What kind of vessels? Warships?\"\n\n\n \"Certainly. What other kind would the Qornt bother with?\"\n\n\n \"I don't suppose,\" Magnan said casually, \"that you'd know the type,\n tonnage, armament and manning of these vessels? And how many units\n comprise the fleet? And where they're based at present?\"\n\n\n \"They're fully automated twenty-thousand-ton all-purpose dreadnaughts.\n They mount a variety of weapons. The Qornt are fond of that sort of\n thing. Each of the Qornt has his own, of course. They're virtually\n identical, except for the personal touches each individual has given\n his ship.\"\n\n\n \"Great heavens, Retief!\" Magnan exclaimed in a whisper. \"It sounds as\n though these brutes employ a battle armada as simpler souls might a set\n of toy sailboats!\"\n\n\n Retief stepped past Magnan and Zubb to study the feasting hall. \"I can\n see that their votes would carry all the necessary weight.\"\n\n\n \"And now an interview with the Qorn himself,\" Zubb shrilled. \"If you'll\n kindly step along, gentlemen....\"\n\n\n \"That won't be necessary,\" Magnan said hastily, \"I've decided to refer\n the matter to committee.\"\n\n\n \"After having come so far,\" Zubb said, \"it would be a pity to miss\n having a cosy chat.\"\n\n\n There was a pause.\n\n\n \"Ah ... Retief,\" Magnan said. \"Zubb has just presented a most\n compelling argument....\"\nRetief turned. Zubb stood gripping an ornately decorated power pistol\n in one bony hand, a slim needler in the other. Both were pointed at\n Magnan's chest.\n\n\n \"I suspected you had hidden qualities, Zubb,\" Retief commented.\n\n\n \"See here, Zubb! We're diplomats!\" Magnan started.\n\n\n \"Careful, Mr. Magnan; you may goad him to a frenzy.\"\n\n\n \"By no means,\" Zubb whistled. \"I much prefer to observe the frenzy\n of the Qornt when presented with the news that two peaceful Verpp\n have been assaulted and kidnapped by bullying interlopers. If there's\n anything that annoys the Qornt, it's Qornt-like behavior in others. Now\n step along, please.\"\n\n\n \"Rest assured, this will be reported!\"\n\n\n \"I doubt it.\"\n\n\n \"You'll face the wrath of Enlightened Galactic Opinion!\"\n\n\n \"Oh? How big a navy does Enlightened Galactic Opinion have?\"\n\n\n \"Stop scaring him, Mr. Magnan. He may get nervous and shoot.\" Retief\n stepped into the banquet hall, headed for the resplendent figure at\n the head of the table. A trio of flute-players broke off in mid-bleat,\n staring. An inverted pyramid of tumblers blinked as Retief swung past,\n followed by Magnan and the tall Verpp. The shrill chatter at the table\n faded.\n\n\n Qorn turned as Retief came up, blinking three-inch eyes. Zubb stepped\n forward, gibbered, waving his arms excitedly. Qorn pushed back his\n chair—a low, heavily padded stool—and stared unwinking at Retief,\n moving his head to bring first one great round eye, then the other, to\n bear. There were small blue veins in the immense fleshy beak. The bushy\n hair, springing out in a giant halo around the grayish, porous-skinned\n face, was wiry, stiff, moss-green, with tufts of chartreuse fuzz\n surrounding what appeared to be tympanic membranes. The tall head-dress\n of scarlet silk and purple feathers was slightly askew, and a loop of\n pink pearls had slipped down above one eye.\n\n\n Zubb finished his speech and fell silent, breathing hard.\n\n\n Qorn looked Retief over in silence, then belched.\n\n\n \"Not bad,\" Retief said admiringly. \"Maybe we could get up a match\n between you and Ambassador Sternwheeler. You've got the volume on him,\n but he's got timbre.\"\n\n\n \"So,\" Qorn hooted in a resonant tenor. \"You come from Guzzum, eh? Or\n Smorbrod, as I think you call it. What is it you're after? More time?\n A compromise? Negotiations? Peace?\" He slammed a bony hand against the\n table. \"The answer is\nno\n!\"\n\n\n Zubb twittered. Qorn cocked an eye, motioned to a servant. \"Chain that\n one.\" He indicated Magnan. His eyes went to Retief. \"This one's bigger;\n you'd best chain him, too.\"\n\n\n \"Why, your Excellency—\" Magnan started, stepping forward.\n\n\n \"Stay back!\" Qorn hooted. \"Stand over there where I can keep an eye on\n you.\"\n\n\n \"Your Excellency, I'm empowered—\"\n\n\n \"Not here, you're not!\" Qorn trumpeted. \"Want peace, do you? Well, I\n don't want peace! I've had a surfeit of peace these last two centuries!\n I want action! Loot! Adventure! Glory!\" He turned to look down the\n table. \"How about it, fellows? It's war to the knife, eh?\"\nThere was a momentary silence from all sides.\n\n\n \"I guess so,\" grunted a giant Qornt in iridescent blue with\n flame-colored plumes.\n\n\n Qorn's eyes bulged. He half rose. \"We've been all over this,\" he\n bassooned. He clamped bony fingers on the hilt of a light rapier. \"I\n thought I'd made my point!\"\n\n\n \"Oh, sure, Qorn.\"\n\n\n \"You bet.\"\n\n\n \"I'm convinced.\"\n\n\n Qorn rumbled and resumed his seat. \"All for one and one for all, that's\n us.\"\n\n\n \"And you're the one, eh, Qorn?\" Retief commented.\n\n\n Magnan cleared his throat. \"I sense that some of you gentlemen are not\n convinced of the wisdom of this move,\" he piped, looking along the\n table at the silks, jewels, beaks, feather-decked crests and staring\n eyes.\n\n\n \"Silence!\" Qorn hooted. \"No use your talking to my loyal lieutenants\n anyway,\" he added. \"They do whatever I convince them they ought to do.\"\n\n\n \"But I'm sure that on more mature consideration—\"\n\n\n \"I can lick any Qornt in the house.\" Qorn said. \"That's why I'm Qorn.\"\n He belched again.\n\n\n A servant came up staggering under a weight of chain, dropped it with a\n crash at Magnan's feet. Zubb aimed the guns while the servant wrapped\n three loops around Magnan's wrists, snapped a lock in place.\n\n\n \"You next!\" The guns pointed at Retief's chest. He held out his arms.\n Four loops of silvery-gray chain in half-inch links dropped around\n them. The servant cinched them up tight, squeezed a lock through the\n ends and closed it.\n\n\n \"Now,\" Qorn said, lolling back in his chair, glass in hand. \"There's a\n bit of sport to be had here, lads. What shall we do with them?\"\n\n\n \"Let them go,\" the blue and flame Qornt said glumly.\n\n\n \"You can do better than that,\" Qorn hooted. \"Now here's a suggestion:\n we carve them up a little—lop off the external labiae and pinnae,\n say—and ship them back.\"\n\n\n \"Good lord! Retief, he's talking about cutting off our ears and sending\n us home mutilated! What a barbaric proposal!\"\n\n\n \"It wouldn't be the first time a Terrestrial diplomat got a trimming,\"\n Retief commented.\n\n\n \"It should have the effect of stimulating the Terries to put up a\n reasonable scrap,\" Qorn said judiciously. \"I have a feeling that\n they're thinking of giving up without a struggle.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, I doubt that,\" the blue-and-flame Qornt said. \"Why should they?\"\n\n\n Qorn rolled an eye at Retief and another at Magnan. \"Take these two,\"\n he hooted. \"I'll wager they came here to negotiate a surrender!\"\n\n\n \"Well,\" Magnan started.\n\n\n \"Hold it, Mr. Magnan,\" Retief said. \"I'll tell him.\"\n\n\n \"What's your proposal?\" Qorn whistled, taking a gulp from his goblet.\n \"A fifty-fifty split? Monetary reparations? Alternate territory? I can\n assure you, it's useless. We Qornt\nlike\nto fight.\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid you've gotten the wrong impression, your Excellency,\"\n Retief said blandly. \"We didn't come to negotiate. We came to deliver\n an Ultimatum.\"\n\n\n \"What?\" Qorn trumpeted. Behind Retief, Magnan spluttered.\n\n\n \"We plan to use this planet for target practice,\" Retief said. \"A new\n type hell bomb we've worked out. Have all your people off of it in\n seventy-two hours, or suffer the consequences.\"\nIV\n\n\n \"You have the gall,\" Qorn stormed, \"to stand here in the center of\n Qornt Hall—uninvited, at that—and in chains—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, these,\" Retief said. He tensed his arms. The soft aluminum links\n stretched and broke. He shook the light metal free. \"We diplomats like\n to go along with colorful local customs, but I wouldn't want to mislead\n you. Now, as to the evacuation of Roolit I—\"\nZubb screeched, waved the guns. The Qornt were jabbering.\n\n\n \"I told you they were brutes,\" Zubb shrilled.\n\n\n Qorn slammed his fist down on the table. \"I don't care what they are!\"\n he honked. \"Evacuate, hell! I can field eighty-five combat-ready ships!\"\n\n\n \"And we can englobe every one of them with a thousand Peace Enforcers\n with a hundred megatons/second firepower each.\"\n\n\n \"Retief.\" Magnan tugged at his sleeve. \"Don't forget their superdrive.\"\n\n\n \"That's all right. They don't have one.\"\n\n\n \"But—\"\n\n\n \"We'll take you on!\" Qorn French-horned. \"We're the Qorn! We glory in\n battle! We live in fame or go down in—\"\n\n\n \"Hogwash,\" the flame-and-blue Qorn cut in. \"If it wasn't for you, Qorn,\n we could sit around and feast and brag and enjoy life without having to\n prove anything.\"\n\n\n \"Qorn, you seem to be the fire-brand here,\" Retief said. \"I think the\n rest of the boys would listen to reason—\"\n\n\n \"Over my dead body!\"\n\n\n \"My idea exactly,\" Retief said. \"You claim you can lick any man in\n the house. Unwind yourself from your ribbons and step out here on the\n floor, and we'll see how good you are at backing up your conversation.\"\nMagnan hovered at Retief's side. \"Twelve feet tall,\" he moaned. \"And\n did you notice the size of those hands?\"\n\n\n Retief watched as Qorn's aides helped him out of his formal trappings.\n \"I wouldn't worry too much, Mr. Magnan. This is a light-Gee world. I\n doubt if old Qorn would weigh up at more than two-fifty standard pounds\n here.\"\n\n\n \"But that phenomenal reach—\"\n\n\n \"I'll peck away at him at knee level. When he bends over to swat me,\n I'll get a crack at him.\"\n\n\n Across the cleared floor, Qorn shook off his helpers with a snort.\n\n\n \"Enough! Let me at the upstart!\"\n\n\n Retief moved out to meet him, watching the upraised backward-jointed\n arms. Qorn stalked forward, long lean legs bent, long horny feet\n clacking against the polished floor. The other aliens—both servitors\n and bejeweled Qornt—formed a wide circle, all eyes unwaveringly on the\n combatants.\n\n\n Qorn struck suddenly, a long arm flashing down in a vicious cut at\n Retief, who leaned aside, caught one lean shank below the knee. Qorn\n bent to haul Retief from his leg—and staggered back as a haymaker took\n him just below the beak. A screech went up from the crowd as Retief\n leaped clear.\n\n\n Qorn hissed and charged. Retief whirled aside, then struck the alien's\n off-leg in a flying tackle. Qorn leaned, arms windmilling, crashed to\n the floor. Retief whirled, dived for the left arm, whipped it behind\n the narrow back, seized Qorn's neck in a stranglehold and threw his\n weight backward. Qorn fell on his back, his legs squatted out at an\n awkward angle. He squawked and beat his free arm on the floor, reaching\n in vain for Retief.\n\n\n Zubb stepped forward, pistols ready. Magnan stepped before him.\n\n\n \"Need I remind you, sir,\" he said icily, \"that this is an official\n diplomatic function? I can brook no interference from disinterested\n parties.\"\n\n\n Zubb hesitated. Magnan held out a hand. \"I must ask you to hand me your\n weapons, Zubb.\"\n\n\n \"Look here,\" Zubb began.\n\n\n \"I\nmay\nlose my temper,\" Magnan hinted. Zubb lowered the guns, passed\n them to Magnan. He thrust them into his belt with a sour smile, turned\n back to watch the encounter.\n\n\n Retief had thrown a turn of violet silk around Qorn's left wrist, bound\n it to the alien's neck. Another wisp of stuff floated from Qorn's\n shoulder. Retief, still holding Qorn in an awkward sprawl, wrapped\n it around one outflung leg, trussed ankle and thigh together. Qorn\n flopped, hooting. At each movement, the constricting loop around his\n neck, jerked his head back, the green crest tossing wildly.\n\n\n \"If I were you, I'd relax,\" Retief said, rising and releasing his grip.\n Qorn got a leg under him; Retief kicked it. Qorn's chin hit the floor\n with a hollow clack. He wilted, an ungainly tangle of over-long limbs\n and gay silks.\n\n\n Retief turned to the watching crowd. \"Next?\" he called.\n\n\n The blue and flame Qornt stepped forward. \"Maybe this would be a good\n time to elect a new leader,\" he said. \"Now, my qualifications—\"\n\n\n \"Sit down,\" Retief said loudly. He stepped to the head of the table,\n seated himself in Qorn's vacated chair. \"A couple of you finish\n trussing Qorn up for me.\"\n\n\n \"But we must select a leader!\"\n\n\n \"That won't be necessary, boys. I'm your new leader.\"\n\"As I see it,\" Retief said, dribbling cigar ashes into an empty wine\n glass, \"you Qornt like to be warriors, but you don't particularly like\n to fight.\"\n\n\n \"We don't mind a little fighting—within reason. And, of course, as\n Qornt, we're expected to die in battle. But what I say is, why rush\n things?\"\n\n\n \"I have a suggestion,\" Magnan said. \"Why not turn the reins of\n government over to the Verpp? They seem a level-headed group.\"\n\n\n \"What good would that do? Qornt are Qornt. It seems there's always one\n among us who's a slave to instinct—and, naturally, we have to follow\n him.\"\n\n\n \"Why?\"\n\n\n \"Because that's the way it's done.\"\n\n\n \"Why not do it another way?\" Magnan offered. \"Now, I'd like to suggest\n community singing—\"\n\n\n \"If we gave up fighting, we might live too long. Then what would\n happen?\"\n\n\n \"Live too long?\" Magnan looked puzzled.\n\n\n \"When estivating time comes there'd be no burrows for us. Anyway, with\n the new Qornt stepping on our heels—\"\n\n\n \"I've lost the thread,\" Magnan said. \"Who are the new Qornt?\"\n\n\n \"After estivating, the Verpp moult, and then they're Qornt, of course.\n The Gwil become Boog, the Boog become Rheuk, the Rheuk metamorphosize\n into Verpp—\"\n\n\n \"You mean Slun and Zubb—the mild-natured naturalists—will become\n warmongers like Qorn?\"\n\n\n \"Very likely. 'The milder the Verpp, the wilder the Qorn,' as the old\n saying goes.\"\n\n\n \"What do Qornt turn into?\" Retief asked.\n\n\n \"Hmmmm. That's a good question. So far, none have survived Qornthood.\"\n\n\n \"Have you thought of forsaking your warlike ways?\" Magnan asked. \"What\n about taking up sheepherding and regular church attendance?\"\n\n\n \"Don't mistake me. We Qornt like a military life. It's great sport to\n sit around roaring fires and drink and tell lies and then go dashing\n off to enjoy a brisk affray and some leisurely looting afterward. But\n we prefer a nice numerical advantage. Not this business of tackling you\n Terrestrials over on Guzzum—that was a mad notion. We had no idea what\n your strength was.\"\n\n\n \"But now that's all off, of course,\" Magnan chirped. \"Now that we've\n had diplomatic relations and all—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, by no means. The fleet lifts in thirty days. After all, we're\n Qornt; we have to satisfy our drive to action.\"\n\n\n \"But Mr. Retief is your leader now. He won't let you!\"\n\n\n \"Only a dead Qornt stays home when Attack day comes. And even if\n he orders us all to cut our own throats, there are still the other\n Centers—all with their own leaders. No, gentlemen, the Invasion is\n definitely on.\"\n\n\n \"Why don't you go invade somebody else?\" Magnan suggested. \"I could\n name some very attractive prospects—outside my sector, of course.\"\n\n\n \"Hold everything,\" Retief said. \"I think we've got the basis of a deal\n here....\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "According to Ambassador Nithworth, who are the Qornt?", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_1", "options": ["They are the inhabitants of the next planet that they plan to overtake.", "An alien race who are known to be mediators amongst warring nations.", "They are gods and should be feared.", "An alien race that was very violent but somehow disappeared several centuries before."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The group try to come up with a plan in regards to the Qornt, and Nitworth decides", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_2", "options": ["They need to flee the planet to be safe.", "They will stand and fight against them.", "Magnan needs the experience involved in a recon mission.", "Retief has to confront them due to a punishment he receives."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "After a short time of trying to locate the Qornt, Magnan", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_3", "options": ["finds them and quickly defeats them.", "says it's too bad they could not be located and attempts to go back to camp.", "finds them and runs.", "sees them from afar but tells everyone else they could not be found."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What race are the aliens that attack the expedition?", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_4", "options": ["Zubb", "Human", "Qornt", "Verpp"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the difference between the two aliens the pair run into and the Qornt?", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_5", "options": ["Nothing.  They are the exact same.", "The Qornt like to fight, and they don't care about the finer things in life.", "The Qornt are much less violent.", "The Qornt only eat humans."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why do Zubb and his companion try to capture the humans? ", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_6", "options": ["They want them as specimens.", "They want to keep them safe from the Qornts.", "They want to take them to the Qornt for a reward.", "They want to eat them."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the prediction for the length of the feast that the Qornt are participating in?", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_7", "options": ["6 hours.", "several days.", "several weeks.", "several months."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What happens to the Verpp when they moult?", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_8", "options": ["They die.", "They transform into Qornt.", "They transform into  Boog.", "They transform into Rheuk."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What do the Qornt transform into once they moult?", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_9", "options": ["No one knows because they have never lived that long.", "They turn back into Boog.", "They turn back into Verpp.", "They turn simply grow larger."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is there no way to call off the invasion?", "question_unique_id": "61434_J9JTAFPH_10", "options": ["There is no way to contact the proper channels to have it stopped.", "It is destiny, and there is no way to avoid it.", "There is a bombing that has been set on a timer, and there is no way to disarm the bomb or turn off the timer.", "Even if the leader does not want to go to war, other factions will come in, kill him, and go anyway."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/1/4/3/61434//61434-h//61434-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other 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{"article_id": "20007", "set_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D", "batch_num": "12", "writer_id": "1014", "source": "Slate", "title": "The logistics of presidential adultery.", "year": "1996", "author": "David Plotz", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "The logistics of presidential adultery. \n\n           \n\n         The Washington Times could hardly contain its excitement: \"A former FBI agent assigned to the White House describes in a new book how President Clinton slips past his Secret Service detail in the dead of night, hides under a blanket in the back of a dark-colored sedan, and trysts with a woman, possibly a celebrity, at the JW Marriott Hotel in downtown Washington.\" For Clinton-haters, Gary Aldrich's tale sounded too good to be true. \n\n         And it was. The not-so-Secret-Service agent's \"source\" turned out to be a thirdhand rumor passed on by Clinton scandalmonger David Brock. Those who know about White House security--Clinton staffers, the Secret Service, former aides to Presidents Reagan and Bush--demolished Aldrich's claims. Clinton couldn't give his Secret Service agents the slip (they shadow him when he walks around the White House), couldn't arrange a private visit without tipping off hotel staff, and couldn't re-enter the White House without getting nabbed. (Guards check all cars at the gate--especially those that arrive at 4 a.m.) \n\n         Even so, the image resonates. For some Americans, it is an article of faith: Bill Clinton cheated on his wife when he was governor, and he cheats on her as president. But can he? Is it possible for the president of the United States to commit adultery and get away with it? Maybe, but it's tougher than you think. \n\n         Historically, presidential adultery is common. Warren Harding cavorted with Nan Britton and Carrie Phillips. Franklin Roosevelt \"entertained\" Lucy Rutherford at the White House when Eleanor was away. America was none the wiser, even if White House reporters were. \n\n         Those who know Clinton is cheating often point to the model of John F. Kennedy, who turned presidential hanky-panky into a science. Kennedy invited mistresses to the White House for afternoon (and evening, and overnight) liaisons. Kennedy seduced women on the White House staff (including, it seems, Jackie's own press secretary). Kennedy made assignations outside the White House, then escaped his Secret Service detail by scaling walls and ducking out back doors. If Kennedy did it, so can Clinton. \n\n          Well, no. Though Clinton slavishly emulates JFK in every other way, he'd be a fool to steal Kennedy's MO d'amour . Here's why: \n\n                         1) Too many people would know. Kennedy hardly bothered to hide his conquests. According to Kennedy mistress (and mob moll) Judith Campbell's autobiography, those who knew about their affair included: Kennedy's personal aides and secretary (who pandered for him), White House drivers, White House gate guards, White House Secret Service agents, White House domestic staff, most of Campbell's friends, a lot of Kennedy's friends, and several Kennedy family members. Such broad circulation would be disastrous today because: \n\n                         2) The press would report it. Kennedy conducted his affairs brazenly because he trusted reporters not to write about them. White House journalists knew about, or at least strongly suspected, Kennedy's infidelity, but never published a story about it. Ask Gary Hart if reporters would exercise the same restraint today. Clinton must worry about this more than most presidents. Not only are newspapers and magazines willing to publish an adultery story about him, but many are pursuing it. \n\n         For the same reason, Clinton would find it difficult to hire a mistress. A lovely young secretary would set off alarm bells in any reporter investigating presidential misbehavior. Says a former Clinton aide, \"There has been a real tendency to have no good-looking women on the staff in order to protect him.\" \n\n                         3) Clinton cannot avoid Secret Service protection. During the Kennedy era, the Secret Service employed fewer than 500 people and had an annual budget of about $4 million. Then came Lee Harvey Oswald, Squeaky Fromme, and John Hinckley. Now the Secret Service payroll tops 4,500 (most of them agents), and the annual budget exceeds $500 million (up 300 percent just since 1980). At any given time, more than 100 agents guard the president in the White House. Top aides from recent administrations are adamant: The Secret Service never lets the president escape its protection. \n\n         So what's a randy president to do? Any modern presidential affair would need to meet stringent demands. Only a tiny number of trusted aides and Secret Service agents could know of it. They would need to maintain complete silence about it. And no reporters could catch wind of it. Such an affair is improbable, but--take heart, Clinton-haters--it's not impossible. Based on scuttlebutt and speculation from insiders at the Clinton, Bush, Reagan, and Ford White Houses, here are the four likeliest scenarios for presidential adultery. \n\n                         1) The White House Sneak. This is a discreet variation of the old Kennedy/Campbell liaison. It's late at night. The president's personal aides have gone home. The family is away. He is alone in the private quarters. The private quarters, a k a \"the residence,\" occupy the second and third floors of the White House. Secret Service agents guard the residence's entrances on the first floor and ground floors, but the first family has privacy in the quarters themselves. Maids and butlers serve the family there, but the president and first lady ask them to leave when they want to be alone. \n\n         The president dials a \"friend\" on his private line. (Most presidents placed all their calls through the White House operators, who kept a record of each one; the Clintons installed a direct-dial line in the private quarters.) The president invites the friend over for a cozy evening at the White House. After he hangs up with the friend, he phones the guard at the East Executive Avenue gate and tells him to admit a visitor. He also notifies the Secret Service agent and the usher on duty downstairs that they should send her up to the residence. \n\n         A taxi drops the woman near the East gate. She identifies herself to the guard, who examines her ID, runs her name through a computer (to check for outstanding warrants), and logs her in a database. A White House usher escorts her into the East Wing of the White House. They walk through the East Wing and pass the Secret Service guard post by the White House movie theater. The agent on duty waves them on. The usher takes her to the private elevator, where another Secret Service agent is posted. She takes the elevator to the second floor. The president opens the door and welcomes her. Under no circumstances could she enter the living quarters without first encountering Secret Service agents. \n\n          Let us pause for a moment to demolish two of the splashier rumors about White House fornication. First, the residence is the only place in the White House where the president can have safe (i.e. uninterrupted) sex. He can be intruded upon or observed everywhere else--except, perhaps, the Oval Office bathroom. Unless the president is an exhibitionist or a lunatic, liaisons in the Oval Office, bowling alley, or East Wing are unimaginable. Second, the much-touted tunnel between the White House and the Treasury Department is all-but-useless to the presidential adulterer. It is too well-guarded. The president could smuggle a mistress through it, but it would attract far more attention from White House staff than a straightforward gate entry would. \n\n          Meanwhile, back in the private quarters, the president and friend get comfortable in one of the 14 bedrooms (or, perhaps, the billiard room). After a pleasant 15 minutes (or two hours?), she says goodbye. Depending on how long she stays, she may pass a different shift of Secret Service agents as she departs. She exits the White House grounds, unescorted and unbothered, at the East gate. The Risks : A gate guard, an usher, and a handful of Secret Service agents see her. All of them have a very good idea of why she was there. The White House maid who changes the sheets sees other suspicious evidence. And the woman's--real--name is entered in a Secret Service computer. None of this endangers the president too much. The computer record of her visit is private, at least for several decades after he leaves office. No personal aides know about the visit. Unless they were staking out the East gate, no journalists do either. The Secret Service agents, the guard, the steward, and the maid owe their jobs to their discretion. Leaks get them fired. \n\n         That said, the current president has every reason not to trust his Secret Service detail. No one seriously compares Secret Service agents (who are pros) to Arkansas state troopers (who aren't). But Clinton might not trust any security guards after the beating he took from his Arkansas posse. Also, if other Secret Service agents are anything like Aldrich, they may dislike this president. One Secret Service leak--the lamp-throwing story--already damaged Clinton. Agents could tattle again. \n\n                         2) The \"Off-the-Record\" Visit. Late at night, after his personal aides and the press have gone home, the president tells his Secret Service detail that he needs to take an \"off-the-record\" trip. He wants to leave the White House without his motorcade and without informing the press. He requests two agents and an unobtrusive sedan. The Secret Service shift leader grumbles, but accepts the conditions. Theoretically, the president could refuse all Secret Service protection, but it would be far more trouble than it's worth. He would have to inform the head of the Secret Service and the secretary of the Treasury. The president and the two agents drive the unmarked car to a woman friend's house. Ideally, she has a covered garage. (An apartment building or a hotel would raise considerably the risk of getting caught.) The agents guard the outside of the house while the president and his friend do their thing. Then the agents chauffeur the president back to the White House, re-entering through the Southwest or Southeast gate, away from the press station. The Risks : Only two Secret Service agents and their immediate supervisor know about the visit. It is recorded in the Secret Service log, which is not made public during the administration's tenure. Gate guards may suspect something fishy when they see the car. A reporter or passer-by could spy the president--even through tinted windows--as the car enters and exits the White House. The friend's neighbors might spot him, or they might notice the agents lurking outside her house. A neighbor might call the police to report the suspicious visitors. All in all, a risky, though not unthinkable, venture. \n\n                         3. The Camp David Assignation. A bucolic, safer version of the White House Sneak. The president invites a group of friends and staffers--including his paramour but not his wife--to spend the weekend at Camp David. The girlfriend is assigned the cabin next to the president's lodge. Late at night, after the Hearts game has ended and everyone has retired to their cabins, she strolls next door. There is a Secret Service command post outside the cabin. The agents on duty (probably three of them) let her enter. A few hours later, she slips back to her own cabin. The Risks : Only a few Secret Service agents know about the liaison. Even though the guest list is not public, all the Navy and Marine personnel at Camp David, as well as the other guests, would know that the presidential entourage included an attractive woman, but not the first lady. That would raise eyebrows if it got back to the White House press room. \n\n                         4. The Hotel Shuffle. The cleverest strategy, and the only one that cuts out the Secret Service. The president is traveling without his family. The Secret Service secures an entire hotel floor, reserving elevators and guarding the entrance to the president's suite. The president's personal aide (a man in his late 20s) takes the room adjoining the president's. An internal door connects the two rooms, so the aide can enter the president's room without alerting the agents in the hall. This is standard practice. \n\n         Late in the evening, the aide escorts a comely young woman back to the hotel. The Secret Service checks her, then waves her into the aide's room. She emerges three hours later, slightly disheveled. She kisses the aide in the hall as she leaves. Someone got lucky--but who? The Risks : The posted Secret Service agents might see through the charade. More awkwardly, the aide would be forced to play the seamy role of procurer. (He would probably do it. Kennedy's assistants performed this task dutifully.) \n\n         In short, presidential adultery is just barely possible in 1996. But it would be extremely inconvenient, extremely risky, and potentially disastrous. It seems, in fact, a lot more trouble than it's worth. A president these days might be wiser to imitate Jimmy Carter, not Jack Kennedy, and only lust in his heart.\n", "questions": [{"question": "According to The Washington Times, ", "question_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D_1", "options": ["No president before Clinton had an affair while in the White house.", "The Secret Service is more of an \"in name only\" title, and there was no way they could keep an eye on Clinton all the time, so they probably knew nothing of the affair.", "There are no fewer than five possible explanations of how Clinton had an affair without the world finding out faster than it did.", "It would be almost impossible for Clinton to have had an affair without the Secret Service knowing."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The article names how many other presidents who were known to have had affairs while in office?", "question_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D_2", "options": ["1", "0", "3", "2"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the difference between Kennedy's situation and Clinton's situation?", "question_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D_3", "options": ["Kennedy didn't seem to care who knew he was sleeping around.", "Kennedy was faithful throughout his marriage.", "Kennedy was much more discrete than Clinton.", "Clinton followed Kennedy's example exactly, so there were no real differences."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who was on the list of those who knew about Kennedy's affair?", "question_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D_4", "options": ["The Secret Service members were the only ones who knew what was going on.", "His wife and mistress were the only two who knew about the affair.", "He did not have an affair.", "His aids, secretary, drivers, guards, Secret Service, the domestic staff, and many friends and family members of both parties."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Kennedy make it much more difficult for Clinton to have an affair while in office?", "question_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D_5", "options": ["He didn't, as he was a faithful man.", "He was so well known for his affairs that a committee was employed simply to keep an eye on all President's personal lives after he left office.", "Kennedy did not want to think of other presidents having affairs while in office, so he created a protocol for the White House staff to follow from then on.", "After his death, the number of Secret Service agents multiplied exponentially, meaning that the President was virtually never alone."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Kennedy not give much credence to anyone finding out about his indiscretions?", "question_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D_6", "options": ["He had none to worry about.", "Everyone feared him, so they did not say anything about anything he did.", "The media was not interested in things like that when Kennedy was in office.", "He trusted the media to not report things like that about him."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to this article, is there any way for a president to have an affair without anyone knowing about it?  Why or why not?", "question_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D_7", "options": ["No, the President is actually video recorded 24/7 for safety issues.", "Yes, they are not watched every second of every day.  They have to figure out the window of opportunity and use it.", "No, there is no way that NO ONE will know, but they can keep the number small if they plan things just right.", "Yes, all they have to do is keep their mouth shut."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0025", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0002", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Camp David come into play if the President wants to \"entertain\" someone, not his wife?", "question_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D_8", "options": ["He has to invite his trusted friends and staffers for a getaway, not invite his wife, and ensure that the lady friend is on the guest list.  ", "It is not suggested, as there are too many ways his wife and the media can find out about what is going on.", "He must place faith in the fact that his wife will be occupied in a different area of Camp David when he is scheduled to meet with his lady friend.", "He has the Navy and Marines to protect shield him from his wife."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The most \"foolproof\" plan for the President to carry on an affair is", "question_unique_id": "20007_5OCOFL2D_9", "options": ["Make sure that he pays off anyone who is involved or sees any indiscretions.", "Simply have an affair and forget about the coverup.", "Get his wife's permission, and the rest does not matter.", "To have a conjoining room with an aid, have the woman go to the aid's room, then come through the conjoining door.  When the evening is over, she goes back the way she came."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0027", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "51650", "set_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Innocent at Large", "year": 1954, "author": "Anderson, Poul; Anderson, Karen", "topic": "Swindlers and swindling -- Fiction; Short stories; PS; Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "INNOCENT AT LARGE\nBy POUL AND KAREN ANDERSON\n\n\n Illustrated by WOOD\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction July 1958.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nA hayseed Martian among big-planet slickers ... of course\n \nhe would get into trouble. But that was nothing compared\n \nto the trouble he would be in if he did not get into trouble!\nThe visiphone chimed when Peri had just gotten into her dinner gown.\n She peeled it off again and slipped on a casual bathrobe: a wisp of\n translucence which had set the president of Antarctic Enterprise—or\n had it been the chairman of the board?—back several thousand dollars.\n Then she pulled a lock of lion-colored hair down over one eye, checked\n with a mirror, rumpled it a tiny bit more and wrapped the robe loosely\n on top and tight around the hips.\n\n\n After all, some of the men who knew her private number were important.\n\n\n She undulated to the phone and pressed its Accept. \"Hello-o, there,\"\n she said automatically. \"So sorry to keep you waiting. I was just\n taking a bath and—Oh. It's you.\"\n\n\n Gus Doran's prawnlike eyes popped at her. \"Holy Success,\" he whispered\n in awe. \"You sure the wires can carry that much voltage?\"\n\"Well, hurry up with whatever it is,\" snapped Peri. \"I got a date\n tonight.\"\n\n\n \"I'll say you do! With a Martian!\"\nPeri narrowed her silver-blue gaze and looked icily at him. \"You must\n have heard wrong, Gus. He's the heir apparent of Indonesia, Inc.,\n that's who, and if you called up to ask for a piece of him, you can\n just blank right out again. I saw him first!\"\n\n\n Doran's thin sharp face grinned. \"You break that date, Peri. Put it off\n or something. I got this Martian for you, see?\"\n\n\n \"So? Since when has all Mars had as much spending money as one big-time\n marijuana rancher? Not to mention the heir ap—\"\n\n\n \"Sure, sure. But how much are those boys going to spend on any girl,\n even a high-level type like you? Listen, I need you just for tonight,\n see? This Martian is strictly from gone. He is here on official\n business, but he is a yokel and I do mean hayseed. Like he asked me\n what the Christmas decorations in all the stores were! And here is the\n solar nexus of it, Peri, kid.\"\n\n\n Doran leaned forward as if to climb out of the screen. \"He has got a\n hundred million dollars expense money, and they are not going to audit\n his accounts at home. One hundred million good green certificates,\n legal tender anywhere in the United Protectorates. And he has about\n as much backbone as a piece of steak alga. Kid, if I did not happen to\n have experience otherwise with a small nephew, I would say this will be\n like taking candy from a baby.\"\n\n\n Peri's peaches-and-cream countenance began to resemble peaches and\n cream left overnight on Pluto. \"Badger?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"Sure. You and Sam Wendt handle the routine. I will take the go-between\n angle, so he will think of me as still his friend, because I have other\n plans for him too. But if we can't shake a million out of him for this\n one night's work, there is something akilter. And your share of a\n million is three hundred thirty-three—\"\n\n\n \"Is five hundred thousand flat,\" said Peri. \"Too bad I just got an\n awful headache and can't see Mr. Sastro tonight. Where you at, Gus?\"\nThe gravity was not as hard to take as Peter Matheny had expected.\n Three generations on Mars might lengthen the legs and expand the chest\n a trifle, but the genes had come from Earth and the organism readjusts.\n What set him gasping was the air. It weighed like a ton of wool and had\n apparently sopped up half the Atlantic Ocean. Ears trained to listen\n through the Martian atmosphere shuddered from the racket conducted by\n Earth's. The passport official seemed to bellow at him.\n\n\n \"Pardon me for asking this. The United Protectorates welcome all\n visitors to Earth and I assure you, sir, an ordinary five-year visa\n provokes no questions. But since you came on an official courier boat\n of your planet, Mr. Matheny, regulations force me to ask your business.\"\n\n\n \"Well—recruiting.\"\n\n\n The official patted his comfortable stomach, iridescent in neolon, and\n chuckled patronizingly. \"I am afraid, sir, you won't find many people\n who wish to leave. They wouldn't be able to see the Teamsters Hour on\n Mars, would they?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, we don't expect immigration,\" said Matheny shyly. He was a fairly\n young man, but small, with a dark-thatched, snub-nosed, gray-eyed\n head that seemed too large for his slender body. \"We learned long ago\n that no one is interested any more in giving up even second-class\n citizenship on Earth to live in the Republic. But we only wanted to\n hire——uh, I mean engage—an, an advisor. We're not businessmen. We\n know our export trade hasn't a chance among all your corporations\n unless we get some—a five-year contract...?\"\n\n\n He heard his words trailing off idiotically, and swore at himself.\n\n\n \"Well, good luck.\" The official's tone was skeptical. He stamped the\n passport and handed it back. \"There, now, you are free to travel\n anywhere in the Protectorates. But I would advise you to leave the\n capital and get into the sticks—um, I mean the provinces. I am sure\n there must be tolerably competent sales executives in Russia or\n Congolese Belgium or such regions. Frankly, sir, I do not believe you\n can attract anyone out of Newer York.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" said Matheny, \"but, you see, I—we need—that is.... Oh,\n well. Thanks. Good-by.\"\n\n\n He backed out of the office.\nA dropshaft deposited him on a walkway. The crowd, a rainbow of men in\n pajamas and robes, women in Neo-Sino dresses and goldleaf hats, swept\n him against the rail. For a moment, squashed to the wire, he stared a\n hundred feet down at the river of automobiles.\nPhobos!\nhe thought\n wildly.\nIf the barrier gives, I'll be sliced in two by a dorsal fin\n before I hit the pavement!\nThe August twilight wrapped him in heat and stickiness. He could see\n neither stars nor even moon through the city's blaze. The forest of\n multi-colored towers, cataracting half a mile skyward across more\n acreage than his eyes reached, was impressive and all that, but—he\n used to stroll out in the rock garden behind his cottage and smoke a\n pipe in company with Orion. On summer evenings, that is, when the\n temperature wasn't too far below zero.\nWhy did they tap me for this job?\nhe asked himself in a surge of\n homesickness.\nWhat the hell is the Martian Embassy here for?\nHe, Peter Matheny, was no more than a peaceful professor of\n sociodynamics at Devil's Kettle University. Of course, he had advised\n his government before now—in fact, the Red Ankh Society had been his\n idea—but still he was at ease only with his books and his chess and\n his mineral collection, a faculty poker party on Tenthday night and an\n occasional trip to Swindletown—\nMy God\n, thought Matheny,\nhere I am, one solitary outlander in the\n greatest commercial empire the human race has ever seen, and I'm\n supposed to find my planet a con man!\nHe began walking, disconsolately, at random. His lizardskin shirt and\n black culottes drew glances, but derisive ones: their cut was forty\n years out of date. He should find himself a hotel, he thought drearily,\n but he wasn't tired; the spaceport would pneumo his baggage to him\n whenever he did check in. The few Martians who had been to Earth had\n gone into ecstasies over the automation which put any service you could\n name on a twenty-four-hour basis. But it would be a long time before\n Mars had such machines. If ever.\n\n\n The city roared at him.\n\n\n He fumbled after his pipe.\nOf course\n, he told himself,\nthat's why\n the Embassy can't act. I may find it advisable to go outside the law.\n Please, sir, where can I contact the underworld?\nHe wished gambling were legal on Earth. The Constitution of the Martian\n Republic forbade sumptuary and moral legislation; quite apart from the\n rambunctious individualism which that document formulated, the article\n was a practical necessity. Life was bleak enough on the deserts,\n without being denied the pleasure of trying to bottom-deal some friend\n who was happily trying to mark the cards. Matheny would have found a\n few spins of roulette soothing: it was always an intellectual challenge\n to work out the system by which the management operated a wheel. But\n more, he would have been among people he understood.\n\n\n The frightful thing about the Earthman was the way he seemed to\n exist only in organized masses. A gypsy snake oil peddler, plodding\n his syrtosaur wagon across Martian sands, just didn't have a prayer\n against, say, the Grant, Harding & Adams Public Relations Agency.\nMatheny puffed smoke and looked around. His feet ached from the weight\n on them. Where could a man sit down? It was hard to make out any\n individual sign through all that flimmering neon. His eye fell on one\n that was distinguished by relative austerity.\nTHE CHURCH OF CHOICE\nEnter, Play, Pray\nThat would do. He took an upward slideramp through several hundred feet\n of altitude, stepped past an aurora curtain, and found himself in a\n marble lobby next to an inspirational newsstand.\n\n\n \"Ah, brother, welcome,\" said a red-haired usherette in demure black\n leotards. \"The peace that passeth all understanding be with you. The\n restaurant is right up those stairs.\"\n\n\n \"I—I'm not hungry,\" stammered Matheny. \"I just wanted to sit in—\"\n\n\n \"To your left, sir.\"\n\n\n The Martian crossed the lobby. His pipe went out in the breeze from an\n animated angel. Organ music sighed through an open doorway. The series\n of rooms beyond was dim, Gothic, interminable.\n\n\n \"Get your chips right here, sir,\" said the girl in the booth.\n\n\n \"Hm?\" said Matheny.\n\n\n She explained. He bought a few hundred-dollar tokens, dropped a\n fifty-buck coin down a slot marked CONTRIBUTIONS, and sipped the\n martini he got back while he strolled around studying the games.\n He stopped, frowned. Bingo? No, he didn't want to bother learning\n something new. He decided that the roulette wheels were either honest\n or too deep for him. He'd have to relax with a crap game instead.\n\n\n He had been standing at the table for some time before the rest of the\n congregation really noticed him. Then it was with awe. The first few\n passes he had made were unsuccessful. Earth gravity threw him off.\n But when he got the rhythm of it, he tossed a row of sevens. It was a\n customary form of challenge on Mars. Here, though, they simply pushed\n chips toward him. He missed a throw, as anyone would at home: simple\n courtesy. The next time around, he threw for a seven just to get the\n feel. He got a seven. The dice had not been substituted on him.\n\n\n \"I say!\" he exclaimed. He looked up into eyes and eyes, all around the\n green table. \"I'm sorry. I guess I don't know your rules.\"\n\n\n \"You did all right, brother,\" said a middle-aged lady with an obviously\n surgical bodice.\n\n\n \"But—I mean—when do we start actually\nplaying\n? What happened to the\n cocked dice?\"\nThe lady drew herself up and jutted an indignant brow at him. \"Sir!\n This is a church!\"\n\n\n \"Oh—I see—excuse me, I, I, I—\" Matheny backed out of the crowd,\n shuddering. He looked around for some place to hide his burning ears.\n\n\n \"You forgot your chips, pal,\" said a voice.\n\n\n \"Oh. Thanks. Thanks ever so much. I, I, that is—\" Matheny cursed\n his knotting tongue.\nDamn it, just because they're so much more\n sophisticated than I, do I have to talk like a leaky boiler?\nThe helpful Earthman was not tall. He was dark and chisel-faced and\n sleekly pomaded, dapper in blue pajamas with a red zigzag, a sleighbell\n cloak and curly-toed slippers.\n\n\n \"You're from Mars, aren't you?\" he asked in the friendliest tone\n Matheny had yet heard.\n\n\n \"Yes. Yes, I am. M-my name's Peter Matheny. I, I—\" He stuck out his\n hand to shake and chips rolled over the floor. \"Damn! Oh, excuse me, I\n forgot this was a church. Never mind the chips. No, please. I just want\n to g-g-get the hell out of here.\"\n\n\n \"Good idea. How about a drink? I know a bar downshaft.\"\n\n\n Matheny sighed. \"A drink is what I need the very most.\"\n\n\n \"My name's Doran. Gus Doran. Call me Gus.\"\n\n\n They walked back to the deaconette's booth and Matheny cashed what\n remained of his winnings.\n\n\n \"I don't want to—I mean if you're busy tonight, Mr. Doran—\"\n\n\n \"Nah. I am not doing one thing in particular. Besides, I have never met\n a Martian. I am very interested.\"\n\n\n \"There aren't many of us on Earth,\" agreed Matheny. \"Just a small\n embassy staff and an occasional like me.\"\n\n\n \"I should think you would do a lot of traveling here. The old mother\n planet and so on.\"\n\n\n \"We can't afford it,\" said Matheny. \"What with gravitation and\n distance, such voyages are much too expensive for us to make them for\n pleasure. Not to mention our dollar shortage.\" As they entered the\n shaft, he added wistfully: \"You Earth people have that kind of money,\n at least in your more prosperous brackets. Why don't you send a few\n tourists to us?\"\n\n\n \"I always wanted to,\" said Doran. \"I would like to see the what they\n call City of Time, and so on. As a matter of fact, I have given my\n girl one of those Old Martian rings last Ike's Birthday and she was\n just gazoo about it. A jewel dug out of the City of Time, like,\n made a million years ago by a, uh, extinct race ... I tell you, she\nappreciated\nme for it!\" He winked and nudged.\n\n\n \"Oh,\" said Matheny.\nHe felt a certain guilt. Doran was too pleasant a little man to\n deserve—\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Matheny said ritually, \"I agree with all the archeologists\n it's a crime to sell such scientifically priceless artifacts, but what\n can we do? We must live, and the tourist trade is almost nonexistent.\"\n\n\n \"Trouble with it is, I hear Mars is not so comfortable,\" said Doran. \"I\n mean, do not get me wrong, I don't want to insult you or anything, but\n people come back saying you have given the planet just barely enough\n air to keep a man alive. And there are no cities, just little towns and\n villages and ranches out in the bush. I mean you are being pioneers and\n making a new nation and all that, but people paying half a megabuck for\n their ticket expect some comfort and, uh, you know.\"\n\n\n \"I do know,\" said Matheny. \"But we're poor—a handful of people trying\n to make a world of dust and sand and scrub thorn into fields and woods\n and seas. We can't do it without substantial help from Earth, equipment\n and supplies—which can only be paid for in Earth dollars—and we can't\n export enough to Earth to earn those dollars.\"\n\n\n By that time, they were entering the Paul Bunyan Knotty Pine Bar &\n Grill, on the 73rd Level. Matheny's jaw clanked down.\n\n\n \"Whassa matter?\" asked Doran. \"Ain't you ever seen a ecdysiastic\n technician before?\"\n\n\n \"Uh, yes, but—well, not in a 3-D image under ten magnifications.\"\n\n\n Matheny followed Doran past a sign announcing that this show was for\n purely artistic purposes, into a booth. There a soundproof curtain\n reduced the noise level enough so they could talk in normal voices.\n\n\n \"What'll you have?\" asked Doran. \"It's on me.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, I couldn't let you. I mean—\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense. Welcome to Earth! Care for a thyle and vermouth?\"\n\n\n Matheny shuddered. \"Good Lord, no!\"\n\n\n \"Huh? But they make thyle right on Mars, don't they?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. And it all goes to Earth and sells at 2000 dollars a fifth. But\n you don't think we'd\ndrink\nit, do you? I mean—well, I imagine it\n doesn't absolutely\nruin\nvermouth. But we don't see those Earthside\n commercials about how sophisticated people like it so much.\"\n\"Well, I'll be a socialist creeper!\" Doran's face split in a grin. \"You\n know, all my life I've hated the stuff and never dared admit it!\" He\n raised a hand. \"Don't worry, I won't blabbo. But I am wondering, if you\n control the thyle industry and sell all those relics at fancy prices,\n why do you call yourselves poor?\"\n\n\n \"Because we are,\" said Matheny. \"By the time the shipping costs have\n been paid on a bottle, and the Earth wholesaler and jobber and sales\n engineer and so on, down to the retailer, have taken their percentage,\n and the advertising agency has been paid, and about fifty separate\n Earth taxes—there's very little profit going back to the distillery\n on Mars. The same principle is what's strangling us on everything. Old\n Martian artifacts aren't really rare, for instance, but freight charges\n and the middlemen here put them out of the mass market.\"\n\n\n \"Have you not got some other business?\"\n\n\n \"Well, we do sell a lot of color slides, postcards, baggage labels and\n so on to people who like to act cosmopolitan, and I understand our\n travel posters are quite popular as wall decoration. But all that has\n to be printed on Earth, and the printer and distributor keep most of\n the money. We've sold some books and show tapes, of course, but only\n one has been really successful—\nI Was a Slave Girl on Mars\n.\n\n\n \"Our most prominent novelist was co-opted to ghostwrite that one.\n Again, though, local income taxes took most of the money; authors\n never have been protected the way a businessman is. We do make a high\n percentage of profit on those little certificates you see around—you\n know, the title deeds to one square inch of Mars—but expressed\n absolutely, in dollars, it doesn't amount to much when we start\n shopping for bulldozers and thermonuclear power plants.\"\n\n\n \"How about postage stamps?\" inquired Doran. \"Philately is a big\n business, I have heard.\"\n\n\n \"It was our mainstay,\" admitted Matheny, \"but it's been overworked.\n Martian stamps are a drug on the market. What we'd like to operate is a\n sweepstakes, but the anti-gambling laws on Earth forbid that.\"\nDoran whistled. \"I got to give your people credit for enterprise,\n anyway!\" He fingered his mustache. \"Uh, pardon me, but have you tried\n to, well, attract capital from Earth?\"\n\n\n \"Of course,\" said Matheny bitterly. \"We offer the most liberal\n concessions in the Solar System. Any little mining company or transport\n firm or—or anybody—who wanted to come and actually invest a few\n dollars in Mars—why, we'd probably give him the President's daughter\n as security. No, the Minister of Ecology has a better-looking one.\n But who's interested? We haven't a thing that Earth hasn't got more\n of. We're only the descendants of a few scientists, a few political\n malcontents, oddballs who happen to prefer elbow room and a bill of\n liberties to the incorporated state—what could General Nucleonics\n hope to get from Mars?\"\n\n\n \"I see. Well, what are you having to drink?\"\n\n\n \"Beer,\" said Matheny without hesitation.\n\n\n \"Huh? Look, pal, this is on me.\"\n\n\n \"The only beer on Mars comes forty million miles, with interplanetary\n freight charges tacked on,\" said Matheny. \"Heineken's!\"\n\n\n Doran shrugged, dialed the dispenser and fed it coins.\n\n\n \"This is a real interesting talk, Pete,\" he said. \"You are being very\n frank with me. I like a man that is frank.\"\n\n\n Matheny shrugged. \"I haven't told you anything that isn't known to\n every economist.\"\nOf course I haven't. I've not so much as mentioned the Red Ankh, for\n instance. But, in principle, I have told him the truth, told him of our\n need; for even the secret operations do not yield us enough.\nThe beer arrived. Matheny engulfed himself in it. Doran sipped at a\n whiskey sour and unobtrusively set another full bottle in front of the\n Martian.\n\n\n \"Ahhh!\" said Matheny. \"Bless you, my friend.\"\n\n\n \"A pleasure.\"\n\n\n \"But now you must let me buy you one.\"\n\n\n \"That is not necessary. After all,\" said Doran with great tact, \"with\n the situation as you have been describing—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, we're not\nthat\npoor! My expense allowance assumes I will\n entertain quite a bit.\"\n\n\n Doran's brows lifted a few minutes of arc. \"You're here on business,\n then?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. I told you we haven't any tourists. I was sent to hire a business\n manager for the Martian export trade.\"\n\n\n \"What's wrong with your own people? I mean, Pete, it is not your fault\n there are so many rackets—uh, taxes—and middlemen and agencies and et\n cetera. That is just the way Earth is set up these days.\"\nMatheny's finger stabbed in the general direction of Doran's pajama\n top. \"Exactly. And who set it up that way? Earthmen. We Martians are\n babes in the desert. What chance do we have to earn dollars on the\n scale we need them, in competition with corporations which could buy\n and sell our whole planet before breakfast? Why, we couldn't afford\n three seconds of commercial time on a Lullaby Pillow 'cast. What we\n need, what we have to hire, is an executive who knows Earth, who's an\n Earthman himself. Let him tell us what will appeal to your people, and\n how to dodge the tax bite and—and—well, you see how it goes, that\n sort of, uh, thing.\"\n\n\n Matheny felt his eloquence running down and grabbed for the second\n bottle of beer.\n\n\n \"But where do I start?\" he asked plaintively, for his loneliness smote\n him anew. \"I'm just a college professor at home. How would I even get\n to see—\"\n\n\n \"It might be arranged,\" said Doran in a thoughtful tone. \"It just\n might. How much could you pay this fellow?\"\n\n\n \"A hundred megabucks a year, if he'll sign a five-year contract. That's\n Earth years, mind you.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry to tell you this, Pete,\" said Doran, \"but while that is not\n bad money, it is not what a high-powered sales scientist gets in Newer\n York. Plus his retirement benefits, which he would lose if he quit\n where he is now at. And I am sure he would not want to settle on Mars\n permanently.\"\n\n\n \"I could offer a certain amount of, uh, lagniappe,\" said Matheny. \"That\n is, well, I can draw up to a hundred megabucks myself for, uh, expenses\n and, well ... let me buy you a drink!\"\n\n\n Doran's black eyes frogged at him. \"You might at that,\" said the\n Earthman very softly. \"Yes, you might at that.\"\n\n\n Matheny found himself warming. Gus Doran was an authentic bobber. A\n hell of a swell chap. He explained modestly that he was a free-lance\n business consultant and it was barely possible that he could arrange\n some contacts....\n\n\n \"No, no, no commission, all done in the interest of interplanetary\n friendship ... well, anyhow, let's not talk business now. If you have\n got to stick to beer, Pete, make it a chaser to akvavit. What is\n akvavit? Well, I will just take and show you.\"\n\n\n A hell of a good bloke. He knew some very funny stories, too, and\n he laughed at Matheny's, though they were probably too rustic for a\n big-city taste like his.\n\n\n \"What I really want,\" said Matheny, \"what I really want—I mean what\n Mars really needs, get me?—is a confidence man.\"\n\n\n \"A what?\"\n\n\n \"The best and slickest one on Earth, to operate a world-size con game\n for us and make us some real money.\"\n\n\n \"Con man? Oh. A slipstring.\"\n\n\n \"A con by any other name,\" said Matheny, pouring down an akvavit.\nDoran squinted through cigarette smoke. \"You are interesting me\n strangely, my friend. Say on.\"\n\n\n \"No.\" Matheny realized his head was a bit smoky. The walls of the booth\n seemed odd, somehow. They were just leatheroid walls, but they had an\n odd quality.\n\n\n \"No, sorry, Gus,\" he said. \"I spoke too much.\"\n\n\n \"Okay. Forget it. I do not like a man that pries. But look, let's bomb\n out of here, how about it? Go have a little fun.\"\n\n\n \"By all means.\" Matheny disposed of his last beer. \"I could use some\n gaiety.\"\n\n\n \"You have come to the right town then. But let us get you a hotel room\n first and some more up-to-date clothes.\"\n\n\n \"\nAllez\n,\" said Matheny. \"If I don't mean\nallons\n, or maybe\nalors\n.\"\n\n\n The drop down to cab-ramp level and the short ride afterward sobered\n him; the room rate at the Jupiter-Astoria sobered him still more.\nOh, well\n, he thought,\nif I succeed in this job, no one at home will\n quibble.\nAnd the chamber to which he and Doran were shown was spectacular\n enough, with a pneumo direct to the bar and a full-wall transparency to\n show the vertical incandescence of the towers.\n\n\n \"Whoof!\" Matheny sat down. The chair slithered sensuously about his\n contours. He jumped. \"What the dusty hell—Oh.\" He tried to grin, but\n his face burned. \"I see.\"\n\n\n \"That is a sexy type of furniture, all right,\" agreed Doran. He lowered\n himself into another chair, cocked his feet on the 3-D and waved a\n cigarette. \"Which speaking of, what say we get some girls? It is not\n too late to catch them at home. A date here will usually start around\n 2100 hours earliest.\"\n\n\n \"What?\"\n\n\n \"You know. Dames. Like a certain blonde warhead with twin radar and\n swivel mounting, and she just loves exotics. Such as you.\"\n\n\n \"Me?\" Matheny heard his voice climb to a schoolboy squeak. \"Me?\n Exotic? Why, I'm just a little college professor. I g-g-g, that is—\"\n His tongue got stuck on his palate. He pulled it loose and moistened\n uncertain lips.\n\n\n \"You are from Mars. Okay? So you fought bushcats barehanded in an\n abandoned canal.\"\n\n\n \"What's a bushcat? And we don't have canals. The evaporation rate—\"\n\n\n \"Look, Pete,\" said Doran patiently. \"She don't have to know that, does\n she?\"\n\n\n \"Well—well, no. I guess not No.\"\n\n\n \"Let's order you some clothes on the pneumo,\" said Doran. \"I recommend\n you buy from Schwartzherz. Everybody knows he is expensive.\"\nWhile Matheny jittered about, shaving and showering and struggling with\n his new raiment, Doran kept him supplied with akvavit and beer.\n\n\n \"You said one thing, Pete,\" Doran remarked. \"About needing a\n slipstring. A con man, you would call it.\"\n\n\n \"Forget that. Please. I spoke out of turn.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you see, maybe a man like that is just what Mars does need. And\n maybe I have got a few contacts.\"\n\n\n \"What?\" Matheny gaped out of the bathroom.\n\n\n Doran cupped his hands around a fresh cigarette, not looking at him.\n \"I am not that man,\" he said frankly. \"But in my line I get a lot of\n contacts, and not all of them go topside. See what I mean? Like if,\n say, you wanted somebody terminated and could pay for it, I could not\n do it. I would not want to know anything about it. But I could tell you\n a phone number.\"\n\n\n He shrugged and gave the Martian a sidelong glance. \"Sure, you may not\n be interested. But if you are, well, Pete, I was not born yesterday. I\n got tolerance. Like the book says, if you want to get ahead, you have\n got to think positively.\"\n\n\n Matheny hesitated. If only he hadn't taken that last shot! It made him\n want to say yes, immediately, without reservations. And therefore maybe\n he became overcautious.\n\n\n They had instructed him on Mars to take chances if he must.\n\n\n \"I could tell you a thing or two that might give you a better idea,\" he\n said slowly. \"But it would have to be under security.\"\n\n\n \"Okay by me. Room service can send us up an oath box right now.\"\n\n\n \"What? But—but—\" Matheny hung onto himself and tried to believe that\n he had landed on Earth less than six hours ago.\n\n\n In the end, he did call room service and the machine was trundled in.\n Doran swallowed the pill and donned the conditioner helmet without an\n instant's hesitation.\n\n\n \"I shall never reveal to any person unauthorized by yourself whatever\n you may tell me under security, now or at any other time,\" he\n recited. Then, cheerfully: \"And that formula, Pete, happens to be the\n honest-to-zebra truth.\"\n\n\n \"I know.\" Matheny stared, embarrassed, at the carpet. \"I'm sorry\n to—to—I mean of course I trust you, but—\"\n\n\n \"Forget it. I take a hundred security oaths a year, in my line of work.\n Maybe I can help you. I like you, Pete, damn if I don't. And, sure,\n I might stand to get an agent's cut, if I arrange—Go ahead, boy, go\n ahead.\" Doran crossed his legs and leaned back.\n\n\n \"Oh, it's simple enough,\" said Matheny. \"It's only that we already are\n operating con games.\"\n\n\n \"On Mars, you mean?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. There never were any Old Martians. We erected the ruins fifty\n years ago for the Billingsworth Expedition to find. We've been\n manufacturing relics ever since.\"\n\n\n \"\nHuh?\nWell, why, but—\"\n\n\n \"In this case, it helps to be at the far end of an interplanetary\n haul,\" said Matheny. \"Not many Terrestrial archeologists get to Mars\n and they depend on our people to—Well, anyhow—\"\n\n\n \"I will be clopped! Good for you!\"\nDoran blew up in laughter. \"That is one thing I would never spill, even\n without security. I told you about my girl friend, didn't I?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, and that calls to mind the Little Girl,\" said Matheny\n apologetically. \"She was another official project.\"\n\n\n \"Who?\"\n\n\n \"Remember Junie O'Brien? The little golden-haired girl on Mars, a\n mathematical prodigy, but dying of an incurable disease? She collected\n Earth coins.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, that. Sure, I remember—Hey! You didn't!\"\n\n\n \"Yes. We made about a billion dollars on that one.\"\n\n\n \"I will be double damned. You know, Pete, I sent her a hundred-buck\n piece myself. Say, how is Junie O'Brien?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, fine. Under a different name, she's now our finance minister.\"\n Matheny stared out the wall, his hands twisting nervously behind his\n back. \"There were no lies involved. She really does have a fatal\n disease. So do you and I. Every day we grow older.\"\n\n\n \"Uh!\" exclaimed Doran.\n\n\n \"And then the Red Ankh Society. You must have seen or heard their ads.\n 'What mysterious knowledge did the Old Martians possess? What was\n the secret wisdom of the Ancient Aliens? Now the incredibly powerful\n semantics of the Red Ankh (not a religious organization) is available\n to a select few—' That's our largest dollar-earning enterprise.\"\n\n\n He would have liked to say it was his suggestion originally, but it\n would have been too presumptuous. He was talking to an Earthman, who\n had heard everything already.\n\n\n Doran whistled.\n\n\n \"That's about all, so far,\" confessed Matheny. \"Perhaps a con is our\n only hope. I've been wondering, maybe we could organize a Martian\n bucket shop, handling Martian securities, but—well, I don't know.\"\n\n\n \"I think—\" Doran removed the helmet and stood up.\n\n\n \"Yes?\" Matheny faced around, shivering with his own tension.\n\n\n \"I may be able to find the man you want,\" said Doran. \"I just may. It\n will take a few days and might get a little expensive.\"\n\n\n \"You mean.... Mr. Doran—Gus—you could actually—\"\n\n\n \"I cannot promise anything yet except that I will try. Now you finish\n dressing. I will be down in the bar. And I will call up this girl I\n know. We deserve a celebration!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Matheny want to leave the church?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_1", "options": ["He was thirsty", "He was no good at playing craps", "He was embarrassed", "He was not religious"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Matheny feel guilty about Doran purchasing the ring?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_2", "options": ["Doran had never even visited Mars", "It was a fake", "It was made a million years ago and too old for a gift", "It was a priceless artifact that should not be sold"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many different Martian cons did Matheny speak of to Gus?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_3", "options": ["4", "3", "2", "1"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Matheny sent to find a conman from Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_4", "options": ["The Martians wanted to start conning Earth", "The Martians did not know what a con was", "The Martians were already making a lot of money conning Earth", "The Martians were already conning Earth but needed help making more money from cons"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was the girl interested in Matheny?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_5", "options": ["He was exotic", "He was a college professor", "He had a large expense account", "He fought bushcats barehanded in a canal"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "For Matheny, what was the hardest part about being on Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_6", "options": ["The higher gravity hurt his feet when he walked", "His outdated clothes embarrassed him", "The officials yelling at him upset him", "The thicker air was hard to breathe"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What effect did Earth's anti-gambling laws have on Mars?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_7", "options": ["Gambling was not allowed on Mars", "Martians were not able to run a sweepstakes for Earthlings", "Earthlings were not allowed to gamble while on Mars", "Martians were not allowed to gamble while on Earth"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Matheny not care about the chips he won?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_8", "options": ["He felt out of place", "He was a rich man", "He wanted Doran to have the chips", "He didn't want to win money from a church"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Peri help con Matheny out of his expense money?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_9", "options": ["We never find out for sure", "She went to dinner with him instead of Sastro", "She wore a wispy robe", "She got him drunk in the bar"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Matheny expect to happen when he went into the church?", "question_unique_id": "51650_B3KKWWD1_10", "options": ["To gamble and win some money", "To play craps with loaded dice", "To sit for awhile and rest", "To play roulette until he figured out the wheel"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/6/5/51650//51650-h//51650-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51483", "set_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Reluctant Heroes", "year": 1970, "author": "Robinson, Frank M.", "topic": "PS; Moon -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "The Reluctant Heroes\nBy FRANK M. ROBINSON\n\n\n Illustrated by DON SIBLEY\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction January 1951.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nPioneers have always resented their wanderlust, hated\n\n their hardships. But the future brings a new grudge—when\n\n pioneers stay put and scholars do the exploring!\nThe very young man sat on the edge of the sofa and looked nervous. He\n carefully studied his fingernails and ran his hands through his hair\n and picked imaginary lint off the upholstery.\n\"I have a chance to go with the first research expedition to Venus,\"\n he said.\nThe older man studied the very young man thoughtfully and then leaned\n over to his humidor and offered him a cigaret. \"It's nice to have the\n new air units now. There was a time when we had to be very careful\n about things like smoking.\"\nThe very young man was annoyed.\n\"I don't think I want to go,\" he blurted. \"I don't think I would care\n to spend two years there.\"\nThe older man blew a smoke ring and watched it drift toward the air\n exhaust vent.\n\"You mean you would miss it here, the people you've known and grown\n up with, the little familiar things that have made up your life here.\n You're afraid the glamor would wear off and you would get to hate it on\n Venus.\"\nThe very young man nodded miserably. \"I guess that's it.\"\n\"Anything else?\"\nThe very young man found his fingernails extremely fascinating again\n and finally said, in a low voice, \"Yes, there is.\"\n\"A girl?\"\nA nod confirmed this.\nIt was the older man's turn to look thoughtful. \"You know, I'm sure,\n that psychologists and research men agree that research stations should\n be staffed by couples. That is, of course, as soon as it's practical.\"\n\"But that might be a long time!\" the very young man protested.\n\"It might be—but sometimes it's sooner than you think. And the goal\n is worth it.\"\n\"I suppose so, but—\"\nThe older man smiled. \"Still the reluctant heroes,\" he said, somewhat\n to himself.\nChapman stared at the radio key.\n\n\n Three years on the Moon and they didn't want him to come back.\n\n\n Three years on the Moon and they thought he'd be glad to stay for more.\n Just raise his salary or give him a bonus, the every-man-has-his-price\n idea. They probably thought he liked it there.\n\n\n Oh, sure, he loved it. Canned coffee, canned beans, canned pills,\n and canned air until your insides felt as though they were plated\n with tin. Life in a cramped, smelly little hut where you could take\n only ten steps in any one direction. Their little scientific home of\n tomorrow with none of the modern conveniences, a charming place where\n you couldn't take a shower, couldn't brush your teeth, and your kidneys\n didn't work right.\n\n\n And for double his salary they thought he'd be glad to stay for another\n year and a half. Or maybe three. He should probably be glad he had the\n opportunity.\n\n\n The key started to stutter again, demanding an answer.\n\n\n He tapped out his reply: \"\nNo!\n\"\n\n\n There was a silence and then the key stammered once more in a sudden\n fit of bureaucratic rage. Chapman stuffed a rag under it and ignored\n it. He turned to the hammocks, strung against the bulkhead on the other\n side of the room.\n\n\n The chattering of the key hadn't awakened anybody; they were still\n asleep, making the animal noises that people usually make in slumber.\n Dowden, half in the bottom hammock and half on the floor, was snoring\n peacefully. Dahl, the poor kid who was due for stopover, was mumbling\n to himself. Julius Klein, with that look of ineffable happiness on his\n face, looked as if he had just squirmed under the tent to his personal\n idea of heaven. Donley and Bening were lying perfectly still, their\n covers not mussed, sleeping very lightly.\n\n\n Lord, Chapman thought, I'll be happy when I can see some other faces.\n\n\n \"What'd they want?\" Klein had one eyelid open and a questioning look on\n his face.\n\n\n \"They wanted me to stay until the next relief ship lands,\" Chapman\n whispered back.\n\n\n \"What did you say?\"\n\n\n He shrugged. \"No.\"\n\n\n \"You kept it short,\" somebody else whispered. It was Donley, up and\n sitting on the side of his hammock. \"If it had been me, I would have\n told them just what they could do about it.\"\nThe others were awake now, with the exception of Dahl who had his face\n to the bulkhead and a pillow over his head.\n\n\n Dowden rubbed his eyes sleepily. \"Sore, aren't you?\"\n\n\n \"Kind of. Who wouldn't be?\"\n\n\n \"Well, don't let it throw you. They've never been here on the Moon.\n They don't know what it's like. All they're trying to do is get a good\n man to stay on the job a while longer.\"\n\n\n \"\nAll\nthey're trying to do,\" Chapman said sarcastically. \"They've got\n a fat chance.\"\n\n\n \"They think you've found a home here,\" Donley said.\n\n\n \"Why the hell don't you guys shut up until morning?\" Dahl was awake,\n looking bitter. \"Some of us still have to stay here, you know. Some of\n us aren't going back today.\"\n\n\n No, Chapman thought, some of us aren't going back. You aren't. And\n Dixon's staying, too. Only Dixon isn't ever going back.\n\n\n Klein jerked his thumb toward Dahl's bunk, held a finger to his lips,\n and walked noiselessly over to the small electric stove. It was his day\n for breakfast duty.\n\n\n The others started lacing up their bunks, getting ready for their last\n day of work on the Moon. In a few hours they'd be relieved by members\n of the Third research group and they'd be on their way back to Earth.\n\n\n And that includes me, Chapman thought. I'm going home. I'm finally\n going home.\n\n\n He walked silently to the one small, quartz window in the room. It was\n morning—the Moon's \"morning\"—and he shivered slightly. The rays of\n the Sun were just striking the far rim of the crater and long shadows\n shot across the crater floor. The rest of it was still blanketed in\n a dark jumble of powdery pumice and jagged peaks that would make the\n Black Hills of Dakota look like paradise.\n\n\n A hundred yards from the research bunker he could make out the small\n mound of stones and the forlorn homemade cross, jury-rigged out of\n small condensed milk tins slid over crossed iron bars. You could still\n see the footprints in the powdery soil where the group had gathered\n about the grave. It had been more than eighteen months ago, but there\n was no wind to wear those tracks away. They'd be there forever.\n\n\n That's what happened to guys like Dixon, Chapman thought. On the Moon,\n one mistake could use up your whole quota of chances.\n\n\n Klein came back with the coffee. Chapman took a cup, gagged, and forced\n himself to swallow the rest of it. It had been in the can for so long\n you could almost taste the glue on the label.\nDonley was warming himself over his cup, looking thoughtful. Dowden and\n Bening were struggling into their suits, getting ready to go outside.\n Dahl was still sitting on his hammock, trying to ignore them.\n\n\n \"Think we ought to radio the space station and see if they've left\n there yet?\" Klein asked.\n\n\n \"I talked to them on the last call,\" Chapman said. \"The relief ship\n left there twelve hours ago. They should get here\"—he looked at his\n watch—\"in about six and a half hours.\"\n\n\n \"Chap, you know, I've been thinking,\" Donley said quietly. \"You've\n been here just twice as long as the rest of us. What's the first thing\n you're going to do once you get back?\"\n\n\n It hit them, then. Dowden and Bening looked blank for a minute and\n blindly found packing cases to sit on. The top halves of their suits\n were still hanging on the bulkhead. Klein lowered his coffee cup and\n looked grave. Even Dahl glanced up expectantly.\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" Chapman said slowly. \"I guess I was trying not to think\n of that. I suppose none of us have. We've been like little kids who\n have waited so long for Christmas that they just can't believe it when\n it's finally Christmas Eve.\"\n\n\n Klein nodded in agreement. \"I haven't been here three years like you\n have, but I think I know what you mean.\" He warmed up to it as the idea\n sank in. \"Just what the hell\nare\nyou going to do?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing very spectacular,\" Chapman said, smiling. \"I'm going to rent\n a room over Times Square, get a recording of a rikky-tik piano, and\n drink and listen to the music and watch the people on the street below.\n Then I think I'll see somebody.\"\n\n\n \"Who's the somebody?\" Donley asked.\n\n\n Chapman grinned. \"Oh, just somebody. What are you going to do, Dick?\"\n\n\n \"Well, I'm going to do something practical. First of all, I want to\n turn over all my geological samples to the government. Then I'm going\n to sell my life story to the movies and then—why, then, I think I'll\n get drunk!\"\n\n\n Everybody laughed and Chapman turned to Klein.\n\n\n \"How about you, Julius?\"\n\n\n Klein looked solemn. \"Like Dick, I'll first get rid of my obligations\n to the expedition. Then I think I'll go home and see my wife.\"\n\n\n They were quiet. \"I thought all members of the groups were supposed to\n be single,\" Donley said.\n\n\n \"They are. And I can see their reasons for it. But who could pass up\n the money the Commission was paying?\"\n\n\n \"If I had to do it all over again? Me,\" said Donley promptly.\n\n\n They laughed. Somebody said: \"Go play your record, Chap. Today's the\n day for it.\"\n\n\n The phonograph was a small, wind-up model that Chapman had smuggled in\n when he had landed with the First group. The record was old and the\n shellac was nearly worn off, but the music was good.\n\n\n Way Back Home by Al Lewis.\nThey ran through it twice. They were beginning to feel it now, Chapman\n thought. They were going to go home in a little while and the idea was\n just starting to sink in.\n\n\n \"You know, Chap,\" Donley said, \"it won't seem like the same old Moon\n without you on it. Why, we'll look at it when we're out spooning or\n something and it just won't have the same old appeal.\"\n\n\n \"Like they say in the army,\" Bening said, \"you never had it so good.\n You found a home here.\"\n\n\n The others chimed in and Chapman grinned. Yesterday or a week ago they\n couldn't have done it. He had been there too long and he had hated it\n too much.\n\n\n The party quieted down after a while and Dowden and Bening finished\n getting into their suits. They still had a section of the sky to map\n before they left. Donley was right after them. There was an outcropping\n of rock that he wanted a sample of and some strata he wished to\n investigate.\n\n\n And the time went faster when you kept busy.\nChapman stopped them at the lock. \"Remember to check your suits for\n leaks,\" he warned. \"And check the valves of your oxygen tanks.\"\n\n\n Donley looked sour. \"I've gone out at least five hundred times,\" he\n said, \"and you check me each time.\"\n\n\n \"And I'd check you five hundred more,\" Chapman said. \"It takes only\n one mistake. And watch out for blisters under the pumice crust. You go\n through one of those and that's it, brother.\"\n\n\n Donley sighed. \"Chap, you watch us like an old mother hen. You see we\n check our suits, you settle our arguments, you see that we're not bored\n and that we stay healthy and happy. I think you'd blow our noses for us\n if we caught cold. But some day, Chap old man, you're gonna find out\n that your little boys can watch out for themselves!\"\n\n\n But he checked his suit for leaks and tested the valve of his tank\n before he left.\nOnly Klein and Chapman were left in the bunker. Klein was at the work\n table, carefully labeling some lichen specimens.\n\n\n \"I never knew you were married,\" Chapman said.\n\n\n Klein didn't look up. \"There wasn't much sense in talking about it. You\n just get to thinking and wanting—and there's nothing you can do about\n it. You talk about it and it just makes it worse.\"\n\n\n \"She let you go without any fuss, huh?\"\n\n\n \"No, she didn't make any fuss. But I don't think she liked to see me\n go, either.\" He laughed a little. \"At least I hope she didn't.\"\nThey were silent for a while. \"What do you miss most, Chap?\" Klein\n asked. \"Oh, I know what we said a little while ago, but I mean\n seriously.\"\n\n\n Chapman thought a minute. \"I think I miss the sky,\" he said quietly.\n \"The blue sky and the green grass and trees with leaves on them that\n turn color in the Fall. I think, when I go back, that I'd like to go\n out in a rain storm and strip and feel the rain on my skin.\"\n\n\n He stopped, feeling embarrassed. Klein's expression was encouraging.\n \"And then I think I'd like to go downtown and just watch the shoppers\n on the sidewalks. Or maybe go to a burlesque house and smell the cheap\n perfume and the popcorn and the people sweating in the dark.\"\n\n\n He studied his hands. \"I think what I miss most is people—all kinds\n of people. Bad people and good people and fat people and thin people,\n and people I can't understand. People who wouldn't know an atom from an\n artichoke. And people who wouldn't give a damn. We're a quarter of a\n million miles from nowhere, Julius, and to make it literary, I think I\n miss my fellow man more than anything.\"\n\n\n \"Got a girl back home?\" Klein asked almost casually.\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"You're not like Dahl. You've never mentioned it.\"\n\n\n \"Same reason you didn't mention your wife. You get to thinking about\n it.\"\n\n\n Klein flipped the lid on the specimen box. \"Going to get married when\n you get back?\"\n\n\n Chapman was at the port again, staring out at the bleak landscape. \"We\n hope to.\"\n\n\n \"Settle down in a small cottage and raise lots of little Chapmans, eh?\"\n\n\n Chapman nodded.\n\n\n \"That's the only future,\" Klein said.\n\n\n He put away the box and came over to the port. Chapman moved over so\n they both could look out.\n\n\n \"Chap.\" Klein hesitated a moment. \"What happened to Dixon?\"\n\n\n \"He died,\" Chapman said. \"He was a good kid, all wrapped up in science.\n Being on the Moon was the opportunity of a lifetime. He thought so much\n about it that he forgot a lot of little things—like how to stay alive.\n The day before the Second group came, he went out to finish some work\n he was interested in. He forgot to check for leaks and whether or not\n the valve on his tank was all the way closed. We couldn't get to him in\n time.\"\n\n\n \"He had his walkie-talkie with him?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. It worked fine, too. We heard everything that went through his\n mind at the end.\"\n\n\n Klein's face was blank. \"What's your real job here, Chap? Why does\n somebody have to stay for stopover?\"\n\n\n \"Hell, lots of reasons, Julius. You can't get a whole relief crew and\n let them take over cold. They have to know where you left off. They\n have to know where things are, how things work, what to watch out for.\n And then, because you've been here a year and a half and know the\n ropes, you have to watch them to see that they stay alive in spite of\n themselves. The Moon's a new environment and you have to learn how to\n live in it. There's a lot of things to learn—and some people just\n never learn.\"\n\n\n \"You're nursemaid, then.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose you could call it that.\"\nKlein said, \"You're not a scientist, are you?\"\n\n\n \"No, you should know that. I came as the pilot of the first ship. We\n made the bunker out of parts of the ship so there wasn't anything to\n go back on. I'm a good mechanic and I made myself useful with the\n machinery. When it occurred to us that somebody was going to have to\n stay over, I volunteered. I thought the others were so important that\n it was better they should take their samples and data back to Earth\n when the first relief ship came.\"\n\n\n \"You wouldn't do it again, though, would you?\"\n\n\n \"No, I wouldn't.\"\n\n\n \"Do you think Dahl will do as good a job as you've done here?\"\n\n\n Chapman frowned. \"Frankly, I hadn't thought of that. I don't believe\n I care. I've put in my time; it's somebody else's turn now. He\n volunteered for it. I think I was fair in explaining all about the job\n when you talked it over among yourselves.\"\n\n\n \"You did, but I don't think Dahl's the man for it. He's too young, too\n much of a kid. He volunteered because he thought it made him look like\n a hero. He doesn't have the judgment that an older man would have. That\n you have.\"\n\n\n Chapman turned slowly around and faced Klein.\n\n\n \"I'm not the indispensable man,\" he said slowly, \"and even if I was, it\n wouldn't make any difference to me. I'm sorry if Dahl is young. So was\n I. I've lost three years up here. And I don't intend to lose any more.\"\n\n\n Klein held up his hands. \"Look, Chap, I didn't mean you should stay. I\n know how much you hate it and the time you put in up here. It's just—\"\n His voice trailed away. \"It's just that I think it's such a damn\n important job.\"\n\n\n Klein had gone out in a last search for rock lichens and Chapman\n enjoyed one of his relatively few moments of privacy. He wandered over\n to his bunk and opened his barracks bag. He checked the underwear and\n his toothbrush and shaving kit for maybe the hundredth time and pushed\n the clothing down farther in the canvas. It was foolish because the\n bag was already packed and had been for a week. He remembered stalling\n it off for as long as he could and then the quiet satisfaction about a\n week before, when he had opened his small gear locker and transferred\n its meager belongings to the bag.\n\n\n He hadn't actually needed to pack, of course. In less than twenty-four\n hours he'd be back on Earth where he could drown himself in toothpaste\n and buy more tee shirts than he could wear in a lifetime. He could\n leave behind his shorts and socks and the outsize shirts he had\n inherited from—who was it? Driesbach?—of the First group. Dahl could\n probably use them or maybe one of the boys in the Third.\nBut it wasn't like going home unless you packed. It was part of the\n ritual, like marking off the last three weeks in pencil on the gray\n steel of the bulkhead beside his hammock. Just a few hours ago, when he\n woke up, he had made the last check mark and signed his name and the\n date. His signature was right beneath Dixon's.\n\n\n He frowned when he thought of Dixon and slid back the catch on the top\n of the bag and locked it. They should never have sent a kid like Dixon\n to the Moon.\n\n\n He had just locked the bag when he heard the rumble of the airlock and\n the soft hiss of air. Somebody had come back earlier than expected. He\n watched the inner door swing open and the spacesuited figure clump in\n and unscrew its helmet.\n\n\n Dahl. He had gone out to help Dowden on the Schmidt telescope. Maybe\n Dowden hadn't needed any help, with Bening along. Or more likely,\n considering the circumstances, Dahl wasn't much good at helping anybody\n today.\n\n\n Dahl stripped off his suit. His face was covered with light beads of\n sweat and his eyes were frightened.\n\n\n He moistened his lips slightly. \"Do—do you think they'll ever have\n relief ships up here more often than every eighteen months, Chap? I\n mean, considering the advance of—\"\n\n\n \"No,\" Chapman interrupted bluntly. \"I don't. Not at least for ten\n years. The fuel's too expensive and the trip's too hazardous. On\n freight charges alone you're worth your weight in platinum when they\n send you here. Even if it becomes cheaper, Bob, it won't come about\n so it will shorten stopover right away.\" He stopped, feeling a little\n sorry for Dahl. \"It won't be too bad. There'll be new men up here and\n you'll pass a lot of time getting to know them.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you see,\" Dahl started, \"that's why I came back early. I wanted\n to see you about stopover. It's that—well, I'll put it this way.\" He\n seemed to be groping for an easy way to say what he wanted to. \"I'm\n engaged back home. Really nice girl, Chap, you'd like her if you knew\n her.\" He fumbled in his pocket and found a photograph and put it on\n the desk. \"That's a picture of Alice, taken at a picnic we were on\n together.\" Chapman didn't look. \"She—we—expected to be married when\n I got back. I never told her about stopover, Chap. She thinks I'll be\n home tomorrow. I kept thinking, hoping, that maybe somehow—\"\n\n\n He was fumbling it badly, Chapman thought.\n\n\n \"You wanted to trade places with me, didn't you, Bob? You thought I\n might stay for stopover again, in your place?\"\n\n\n It hurt to look in Dahl's eyes. They were the eyes of a man who was\n trying desperately to stop what he was about to do, but just couldn't\n help himself.\n\n\n \"Well, yes, more or less. Oh, God, Chap, I know you want to go home!\n But I couldn't ask any of the others; you were the only one who could,\n the only one who was qualified!\"\nDahl looked as though he was going to be sick. Chapman tried to recall\n all he knew about him. Dahl, Robert. Good mathematician. Graduate from\n one of the Ivy League schools. Father was a manufacturer of stoves or\n something.\n\n\n It still didn't add, not quite. \"You know I don't like it here any more\n than you do,\" Chapman said slowly. \"I may have commitments at home,\n too. What made you think I would change my mind?\"\n\n\n Dahl took the plunge. \"Well, you see,\" he started eagerly, too far gone\n to remember such a thing as pride, \"you know my father's pretty well\n fixed. We would make it worth your while, Chap.\" He was feverish. \"It\n would mean eighteen more months, Chap, but they'd be well-paid months!\"\n\n\n Chapman felt tired. The good feeling he had about going home was slowly\n evaporating.\n\n\n \"If you have any report to make, I think you had better get at it,\"\n he cut in, keeping all the harshness he felt out of his voice. \"It'll\n be too late after the relief ship leaves. It'll be easier to give the\n captain your report than try to radio it back to Earth from here.\"\n\n\n He felt sorrier for Dahl than he could ever remember having felt for\n anybody. Long after going home, Dahl would remember this.\n\n\n It would eat at him like a cancer.\n\n\n Cowardice is the one thing for which no man ever forgives himself.\nDonley was eating a sandwich and looking out the port, so, naturally,\n he saw the ship first. \"Well, whaddya know!\" he shouted. \"We got\n company!\" He dashed for his suit. Dowden and Bening piled after him and\n all three started for the lock.\n\n\n Chapman was standing in front of it. \"Check your suits,\" he said\n softly. \"Just be sure to check.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, what the hell, Chap!\" Donley started angrily. Then he shut up and\n went over his suit. He got to his tank and turned white. Empty. It was\n only half a mile to the relief rocket, so somebody would probably have\n got to him in time, but.... He bit his lips and got a full tank.\n\n\n Chapman and Klein watched them dash across the pumice, making the\n tremendous leaps they used to read about in the Sunday supplements. The\n port of the rocket had opened and tiny figures were climbing down the\n ladder. The small figures from the bunker reached them and did a short\n jig of welcome. Then the figures linked arms and started back. Chapman\n noticed one—it was probably Donley—pat the ship affectionately before\n he started back.\nThey were in the lock and the air pumped in and then they were in\n the bunker, taking off their suits. The newcomers were impressed and\n solemn, very much aware of the tremendous responsibility that rested on\n their shoulders. Like Donley and Klein and the members of the Second\n group had been when they had landed. Like Chapman had been in the First.\n\n\n Donley and the others were all over them.\nHow was it back on Earth? Who had won the series? Was so-and-so still\n teaching at the university? What was the international situation?\n\n\n Was the sky still blue, was the grass still green, did the leaves still\n turn color in the autumn, did people still love and cry and were there\n still people who didn't know what an atom was and didn't give a damn?\n\n\n Chapman had gone through it all before. But was Ginny still Ginny?\n\n\n Some of the men in the Third had their luggage with them. One of\n them—a husky, red-faced kid named Williams—was opening a box about a\n foot square and six inches deep. Chapman watched him curiously.\n\n\n \"Well, I'll be damned!\" Klein said. \"Hey, guys, look what we've got\n here!\"\n\n\n Chapman and the others crowded around and suddenly Donley leaned over\n and took a deep breath. In the box, covering a thick layer of ordinary\n dirt, was a plot of grass. They looked at it, awed. Klein put out his\n hand and laid it on top of the grass.\n\n\n \"I like the feel of it,\" he said simply.\n\n\n Chapman cut off a single blade with his fingernail and put it between\n his lips. It had been years since he had seen grass and had the luxury\n of walking on it and lying on its cool thickness during those sultry\n summer nights when it was too hot to sleep indoors.\n\n\n Williams blushed. \"I thought we could spare a little water for it and\n maybe use the ultraviolet lamp on it some of the time. Couldn't help\n but bring it along; it seemed sort of like a symbol....\" He looked\n embarrassed.\n\n\n Chapman sympathized. If he had had any sense, he'd have tried to\n smuggle something like that up to the Moon instead of his phonograph.\n\n\n \"That's valuable grass,\" Dahl said sharply. \"Do you realize that at\n current freight rates up here, it's worth about ten dollars a blade?\"\n\n\n Williams looked stricken and somebody said, \"Oh, shut up, Dahl.\"\n\n\n One of the men separated from the group and came over to Chapman. He\n held out his hand and said, \"My name's Eberlein. Captain of the relief\n ship. I understand you're in charge here?\"\n\n\n Chapman nodded and shook hands. They hadn't had a captain on the First\n ship. Just a pilot and crew. Eberlein looked every inch a captain, too.\n Craggy face, gray hair, the firm chin of a man who was sure of himself.\n\n\n \"You might say I'm in charge here,\" Chapman said.\n\n\n \"Well, look, Mr. Chapman, is there any place where we can talk together\n privately?\"\n\n\n They walked over to one corner of the bunker. \"This is about as private\n as we can get, captain,\" Chapman said. \"What's on your mind?\"\nEberlein found a packing crate and made himself comfortable. He looked\n at Chapman.\n\n\n \"I've always wanted to meet the man who's spent more time here than\n anybody else,\" he began.\n\n\n \"I'm sure you wanted to see me for more reasons than just curiosity.\"\n\n\n Eberlein took out a pack of cigarets. \"Mind if I smoke?\"\n\n\n Chapman jerked a thumb toward Dahl. \"Ask him. He's in charge now.\"\n\n\n The captain didn't bother. He put the pack away. \"You know we have big\n plans for the station,\" he said.\n\n\n \"I hadn't heard of them.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes,\nbig plans\n. They're working on unmanned, open-side rockets\n now that could carry cargo and sheet steel for more bunkers like this.\n Enable us to enlarge the unit, have a series of bunkers all linked\n together. Make good laboratories and living quarters for you people.\"\n His eyes swept the room. \"Have a little privacy for a change.\"\n\n\n Chapman nodded. \"They could use a little privacy up here.\"\n\n\n The captain noticed the pronoun. \"Well, that's one of the reasons why\n I wanted to talk to you, Chapman. The Commission talked it over and\n they'd like to see you stay. They feel if they're going to enlarge it,\n add more bunkers and have more men up here, that a man of practical\n experience should be running things. They figure that you're the only\n man who's capable and who's had the experience.\"\n\n\n The captain vaguely felt the approach was all wrong.\n\n\n \"Is that all?\"\n\n\n Eberlein was ill at ease. \"Naturally you'd be paid well. I don't\n imagine any man would like being here all the time. They're prepared to\n double your salary—maybe even a bonus in addition—and let you have\n full charge. You'd be Director of the Luna Laboratories.\"\n\n\n All this and a title too, Chapman thought.\n\n\n \"That's it?\" Chapman asked.\n\n\n Eberlein frowned. \"Well, the Commission said they'd be willing to\n consider anything else you had in mind, if it was more money or....\"\n\n\n \"The answer is no,\" Chapman said. \"I'm not interested in more money\n for staying because I'm not interested in staying. Money can't buy it,\n captain. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that you'd have to stay up here to\n appreciate that.\n\n\n \"Bob Dahl is staying for stopover. If there's something important about\n the project or impending changes, perhaps you'd better tell him before\n you go.\"\n\n\n He walked away.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many people were living on the moon before the relief ship arrived?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_1", "options": ["5", "4", "6", "7"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Chapman feel about the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_2", "options": ["He liked it there", "He was glad to have the opportunity to stay longer", "He couldn't wait to leave", "He would stay longer for more money"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Dixon staying longer on the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_3", "options": ["He was dead", "He would stay longer for double his salary", "He would stay in Chapman's place", "He wanted to stay forever"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How long had Dahl been on the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_4", "options": ["1 year", "6 months", "1 year, 6 months", "3 years"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who does Chapman want to visit when he returns to Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_5", "options": ["no one - he wants to sit alone in a room over Times Square", "his wife", "Ginny", "his mother"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Klein feel about leaving his wife to go to the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_6", "options": ["He felt bad she threw a fit about it", "He spent a lot of time sitting and thinking about her", "He didn't want to leave but was motivated by the pay", "He knew she was happy to see him go"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Chapman always inspect the men's equipment before they go outside?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_7", "options": ["He doesn't want them to join Dixon", "He's gone a little crazy from being on the moon too long", "It's his assigned duty", "He doesn't think they can look after themselves"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Chapman feel embarrassed?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_8", "options": ["He shared that he wanted to go to a burlesque house", "He shared how much he missed people", "He shared that he wanted to be naked outdoors", "He told his coworker about his girlfriend"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many different people tried to talk Chapman into staying on the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_9", "options": ["5", "2", "3", "4"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How much longer did they want Chapman to stay on the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_9DX3EDKN_10", "options": ["3 years", "1.5 years", "forever", "6 years"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/8/51483//51483-h//51483-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51461", "set_unique_id": "51461_OV4JLLBG", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "A Pail of Air", "year": 1950, "author": "Leiber, Fritz", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Families -- Fiction; Survival -- Fiction; Short stories", "article": "A Pail of Air\nBy FRITZ LEIBER\n\n\n Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction December 1951.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe dark star passed, bringing with it\n \neternal night and turning history into\n \nincredible myth in a single generation!\nPa had sent me out to get an extra pail of air. I'd just about scooped\n it full and most of the warmth had leaked from my fingers when I saw\n the thing.\n\n\n You know, at first I thought it was a young lady. Yes, a beautiful\n young lady's face all glowing in the dark and looking at me from the\n fifth floor of the opposite apartment, which hereabouts is the floor\n just above the white blanket of frozen air. I'd never seen a live young\n lady before, except in the old magazines—Sis is just a kid and Ma is\n pretty sick and miserable—and it gave me such a start that I dropped\n the pail. Who wouldn't, knowing everyone on Earth was dead except Pa\n and Ma and Sis and you?\nEven at that, I don't suppose I should have been surprised. We all\n see things now and then. Ma has some pretty bad ones, to judge from\n the way she bugs her eyes at nothing and just screams and screams and\n huddles back against the blankets hanging around the Nest. Pa says it\n is natural we should react like that sometimes.\n\n\n When I'd recovered the pail and could look again at the opposite\n apartment, I got an idea of what Ma might be feeling at those times,\n for I saw it wasn't a young lady at all but simply a light—a tiny\n light that moved stealthily from window to window, just as if one\n of the cruel little stars had come down out of the airless sky to\n investigate why the Earth had gone away from the Sun, and maybe to hunt\n down something to torment or terrify, now that the Earth didn't have\n the Sun's protection.\n\n\n I tell you, the thought of it gave me the creeps. I just stood there\n shaking, and almost froze my feet and did frost my helmet so solid on\n the inside that I couldn't have seen the light even if it had come out\n of one of the windows to get me. Then I had the wit to go back inside.\n\n\n Pretty soon I was feeling my familiar way through the thirty or so\n blankets and rugs Pa has got hung around to slow down the escape of\n air from the Nest, and I wasn't quite so scared. I began to hear the\n tick-ticking of the clocks in the Nest and knew I was getting back\n into air, because there's no sound outside in the vacuum, of course.\n But my mind was still crawly and uneasy as I pushed through the last\n blankets—Pa's got them faced with aluminum foil to hold in the\n heat—and came into the Nest.\nLet me tell you about the Nest. It's low and snug, just room for the\n four of us and our things. The floor is covered with thick woolly\n rugs. Three of the sides are blankets, and the blankets roofing it\n touch Pa's head. He tells me it's inside a much bigger room, but I've\n never seen the real walls or ceiling.\n\n\n Against one of the blanket-walls is a big set of shelves, with tools\n and books and other stuff, and on top of it a whole row of clocks. Pa's\n very fussy about keeping them wound. He says we must never forget time,\n and without a sun or moon, that would be easy to do.\n\n\n The fourth wall has blankets all over except around the fireplace, in\n which there is a fire that must never go out. It keeps us from freezing\n and does a lot more besides. One of us must always watch it. Some of\n the clocks are alarm and we can use them to remind us. In the early\n days there was only Ma to take turns with Pa—I think of that when she\n gets difficult—but now there's me to help, and Sis too.\n\n\n It's Pa who is the chief guardian of the fire, though. I always think\n of him that way: a tall man sitting cross-legged, frowning anxiously\n at the fire, his lined face golden in its light, and every so often\n carefully placing on it a piece of coal from the big heap beside it. Pa\n tells me there used to be guardians of the fire sometimes in the very\n old days—vestal virgins, he calls them—although there was unfrozen\n air all around then and you didn't really need one.\n\n\n He was sitting just that way now, though he got up quick to take the\n pail from me and bawl me out for loitering—he'd spotted my frozen\n helmet right off. That roused Ma and she joined in picking on me. She's\n always trying to get the load off her feelings, Pa explains. He shut\n her up pretty fast. Sis let off a couple of silly squeals too.\n\n\n Pa handled the pail of air in a twist of cloth. Now that it was inside\n the Nest, you could really feel its coldness. It just seemed to suck\n the heat out of everything. Even the flames cringed away from it as Pa\n put it down close by the fire.\n\n\n Yet it's that glimmery white stuff in the pail that keeps us alive.\n It slowly melts and vanishes and refreshes the Nest and feeds the\n fire. The blankets keep it from escaping too fast. Pa'd like to seal\n the whole place, but he can't—building's too earthquake-twisted, and\n besides he has to leave the chimney open for smoke.\n\n\n Pa says air is tiny molecules that fly away like a flash if there isn't\n something to stop them. We have to watch sharp not to let the air run\n low. Pa always keeps a big reserve supply of it in buckets behind\n the first blankets, along with extra coal and cans of food and other\n things, such as pails of snow to melt for water. We have to go way down\n to the bottom floor for that stuff, which is a mean trip, and get it\n through a door to outside.\n\n\n You see, when the Earth got cold, all the water in the air froze first\n and made a blanket ten feet thick or so everywhere, and then down on\n top of that dropped the crystals of frozen air, making another white\n blanket sixty or seventy feet thick maybe.\n\n\n Of course, all the parts of the air didn't freeze and snow down at the\n same time.\n\n\n First to drop out was the carbon dioxide—when you're shoveling for\n water, you have to make sure you don't go too high and get any of that\n stuff mixed in, for it would put you to sleep, maybe for good, and make\n the fire go out. Next there's the nitrogen, which doesn't count one way\n or the other, though it's the biggest part of the blanket. On top of\n that and easy to get at, which is lucky for us, there's the oxygen that\n keeps us alive. Pa says we live better than kings ever did, breathing\n pure oxygen, but we're used to it and don't notice. Finally, at the\n very top, there's a slick of liquid helium, which is funny stuff.\n All of these gases in neat separate layers. Like a pussy caffay, Pa\n laughingly says, whatever that is.\nI was busting to tell them all about what I'd seen, and so as soon as\n I'd ducked out of my helmet and while I was still climbing out of my\n suit, I cut loose. Right away Ma got nervous and began making eyes at\n the entry-slit in the blankets and wringing her hands together—the\n hand where she'd lost three fingers from frostbite inside the good one,\n as usual. I could tell that Pa was annoyed at me scaring her and wanted\n to explain it all away quickly, yet could see I wasn't fooling.\n\n\n \"And you watched this light for some time, son?\" he asked when I\n finished.\n\n\n I hadn't said anything about first thinking it was a young lady's face.\n Somehow that part embarrassed me.\n\n\n \"Long enough for it to pass five windows and go to the next floor.\"\n\n\n \"And it didn't look like stray electricity or crawling liquid or\n starlight focused by a growing crystal, or anything like that?\"\n\n\n He wasn't just making up those ideas. Odd things happen in a world\n that's about as cold as can be, and just when you think matter\n would be frozen dead, it takes on a strange new life. A slimy stuff\n comes crawling toward the Nest, just like an animal snuffing for\n heat—that's the liquid helium. And once, when I was little, a bolt of\n lightning—not even Pa could figure where it came from—hit the nearby\n steeple and crawled up and down it for weeks, until the glow finally\n died.\n\n\n \"Not like anything I ever saw,\" I told him.\n\n\n He stood for a moment frowning. Then, \"I'll go out with you, and you\n show it to me,\" he said.\n\n\n Ma raised a howl at the idea of being left alone, and Sis joined\n in, too, but Pa quieted them. We started climbing into our outside\n clothes—mine had been warming by the fire. Pa made them. They have\n plastic headpieces that were once big double-duty transparent food\n cans, but they keep heat and air in and can replace the air for a\n little while, long enough for our trips for water and coal and food and\n so on.\n\n\n Ma started moaning again, \"I've always known there was something\n outside there, waiting to get us. I've felt it for years—something\n that's part of the cold and hates all warmth and wants to destroy the\n Nest. It's been watching us all this time, and now it's coming after\n us. It'll get you and then come for me. Don't go, Harry!\"\n\n\n Pa had everything on but his helmet. He knelt by the fireplace and\n reached in and shook the long metal rod that goes up the chimney and\n knocks off the ice that keeps trying to clog it. Once a week he goes up\n on the roof to check if it's working all right. That's our worst trip\n and Pa won't let me make it alone.\n\n\n \"Sis,\" Pa said quietly, \"come watch the fire. Keep an eye on the air,\n too. If it gets low or doesn't seem to be boiling fast enough, fetch\n another bucket from behind the blanket. But mind your hands. Use the\n cloth to pick up the bucket.\"\n\n\n Sis quit helping Ma be frightened and came over and did as she was\n told. Ma quieted down pretty suddenly, though her eyes were still kind\n of wild as she watched Pa fix on his helmet tight and pick up a pail\n and the two of us go out.\nPa led the way and I took hold of his belt. It's a funny thing, I'm not\n afraid to go by myself, but when Pa's along I always want to hold on to\n him. Habit, I guess, and then there's no denying that this time I was a\n bit scared.\n\n\n You see, it's this way. We know that everything is dead out there. Pa\n heard the last radio voices fade away years ago, and had seen some of\n the last folks die who weren't as lucky or well-protected as us. So we\n knew that if there was something groping around out there, it couldn't\n be anything human or friendly.\n\n\n Besides that, there's a feeling that comes with it always being night,\ncold\nnight. Pa says there used to be some of that feeling even in the\n old days, but then every morning the Sun would come and chase it away.\n I have to take his word for that, not ever remembering the Sun as being\n anything more than a big star. You see, I hadn't been born when the\n dark star snatched us away from the Sun, and by now it's dragged us out\n beyond the orbit of the planet Pluto, Pa says, and taking us farther\n out all the time.\n\n\n I found myself wondering whether there mightn't be something on the\n dark star that wanted us, and if that was why it had captured the\n Earth. Just then we came to the end of the corridor and I followed Pa\n out on the balcony.\n\n\n I don't know what the city looked like in the old days, but now it's\n beautiful. The starlight lets you see it pretty well—there's quite a\n bit of light in those steady points speckling the blackness above. (Pa\n says the stars used to twinkle once, but that was because there was\n air.) We are on a hill and the shimmery plain drops away from us and\n then flattens out, cut up into neat squares by the troughs that used to\n be streets. I sometimes make my mashed potatoes look like it, before I\n pour on the gravy.\n\n\n Some taller buildings push up out of the feathery plain, topped\n by rounded caps of air crystals, like the fur hood Ma wears, only\n whiter. On those buildings you can see the darker squares of windows,\n underlined by white dashes of air crystals. Some of them are on a\n slant, for many of the buildings are pretty badly twisted by the quakes\n and all the rest that happened when the dark star captured the Earth.\n\n\n Here and there a few icicles hang, water icicles from the first days\n of the cold, other icicles of frozen air that melted on the roofs and\n dripped and froze again. Sometimes one of those icicles will catch the\n light of a star and send it to you so brightly you think the star has\n swooped into the city. That was one of the things Pa had been thinking\n of when I told him about the light, but I had thought of it myself\n first and known it wasn't so.\n\n\n He touched his helmet to mine so we could talk easier and he asked me\n to point out the windows to him. But there wasn't any light moving\n around inside them now, or anywhere else. To my surprise, Pa didn't\n bawl me out and tell me I'd been seeing things. He looked all around\n quite a while after filling his pail, and just as we were going inside\n he whipped around without warning, as if to take some peeping thing\n off guard.\n\n\n I could feel it, too. The old peace was gone. There was something\n lurking out there, watching, waiting, getting ready.\n\n\n Inside, he said to me, touching helmets, \"If you see something like\n that again, son, don't tell the others. Your Ma's sort of nervous these\n days and we owe her all the feeling of safety we can give her. Once—it\n was when your sister was born—I was ready to give up and die, but your\n Mother kept me trying. Another time she kept the fire going a whole\n week all by herself when I was sick. Nursed me and took care of the two\n of you, too.\"\n\"You know that game we sometimes play, sitting in a square in the Nest,\n tossing a ball around? Courage is like a ball, son. A person can hold\n it only so long, and then he's got to toss it to someone else. When\n it's tossed your way, you've got to catch it and hold it tight—and\n hope there'll be someone else to toss it to when you get tired of being\n brave.\"\n\n\n His talking to me that way made me feel grown-up and good. But it\n didn't wipe away the thing outside from the back of my mind—or the\n fact that Pa took it seriously.\nIt's hard to hide your feelings about such a thing. When we got back in\n the Nest and took off our outside clothes, Pa laughed about it all and\n told them it was nothing and kidded me for having such an imagination,\n but his words fell flat. He didn't convince Ma and Sis any more than\n he did me. It looked for a minute like we were all fumbling the\n courage-ball. Something had to be done, and almost before I knew what\n I was going to say, I heard myself asking Pa to tell us about the old\n days, and how it all happened.\n\n\n He sometimes doesn't mind telling that story, and Sis and I sure like\n to listen to it, and he got my idea. So we were all settled around the\n fire in a wink, and Ma pushed up some cans to thaw for supper, and Pa\n began. Before he did, though, I noticed him casually get a hammer from\n the shelf and lay it down beside him.\n\n\n It was the same old story as always—I think I could recite the main\n thread of it in my sleep—though Pa always puts in a new detail or two\n and keeps improving it in spots.\n\n\n He told us how the Earth had been swinging around the Sun ever so\n steady and warm, and the people on it fixing to make money and wars and\n have a good time and get power and treat each other right or wrong,\n when without warning there comes charging out of space this dead star,\n this burned out sun, and upsets everything.\n\n\n You know, I find it hard to believe in the way those people felt,\n any more than I can believe in the swarming number of them. Imagine\n people getting ready for the horrible sort of war they were cooking up.\n Wanting it even, or at least wishing it were over so as to end their\n nervousness. As if all folks didn't have to hang together and pool\n every bit of warmth just to keep alive. And how can they have hoped to\n end danger, any more than we can hope to end the cold?\n\n\n Sometimes I think Pa exaggerates and makes things out too black. He's\n cross with us once in a while and was probably cross with all those\n folks. Still, some of the things I read in the old magazines sound\n pretty wild. He may be right.\nThe dark star, as Pa went on telling it, rushed in pretty fast and\n there wasn't much time to get ready. At the beginning they tried\n to keep it a secret from most people, but then the truth came out,\n what with the earthquakes and floods—imagine, oceans of\nunfrozen\nwater!—and people seeing stars blotted out by something on a clear\n night. First off they thought it would hit the Sun, and then they\n thought it would hit the Earth. There was even the start of a rush to\n get to a place called China, because people thought the star would hit\n on the other side. But then they found it wasn't going to hit either\n side, but was going to come very close to the Earth.\n\n\n Most of the other planets were on the other side of the Sun and didn't\n get involved. The Sun and the newcomer fought over the Earth for a\n little while—pulling it this way and that, like two dogs growling\n over a bone, Pa described it this time—and then the newcomer won and\n carried us off. The Sun got a consolation prize, though. At the last\n minute he managed to hold on to the Moon.\n\n\n That was the time of the monster earthquakes and floods, twenty times\n worse than anything before. It was also the time of the Big Jerk, as Pa\n calls it, when all Earth got yanked suddenly, just as Pa has done to\n me once or twice, grabbing me by the collar to do it, when I've been\n sitting too far from the fire.\nYou see, the dark star was going through space faster than the Sun, and\n in the opposite direction, and it had to wrench the world considerably\n in order to take it away.\n\n\n The Big Jerk didn't last long. It was over as soon as the Earth\n was settled down in its new orbit around the dark star. But it was\n pretty terrible while it lasted. Pa says that all sorts of cliffs and\n buildings toppled, oceans slopped over, swamps and sandy deserts gave\n great sliding surges that buried nearby lands. Earth was almost jerked\n out of its atmosphere blanket and the air got so thin in spots that\n people keeled over and fainted—though of course, at the same time,\n they were getting knocked down by the Big Jerk and maybe their bones\n broke or skulls cracked.\n\n\n We've often asked Pa how people acted during that time, whether they\n were scared or brave or crazy or stunned, or all four, but he's sort of\n leery of the subject, and he was again tonight. He says he was mostly\n too busy to notice.\n\n\n You see, Pa and some scientist friends of his had figured out part of\n what was going to happen—they'd known we'd get captured and our air\n would freeze—and they'd been working like mad to fix up a place with\n airtight walls and doors, and insulation against the cold, and big\n supplies of food and fuel and water and bottled air. But the place\n got smashed in the last earthquakes and all Pa's friends were killed\n then and in the Big Jerk. So he had to start over and throw the Nest\n together quick without any advantages, just using any stuff he could\n lay his hands on.\n\n\n I guess he's telling pretty much the truth when he says he didn't have\n any time to keep an eye on how other folks behaved, either then or\n in the Big Freeze that followed—followed very quick, you know, both\n because the dark star was pulling us away very fast and because Earth's\n rotation had been slowed in the tug-of-war, so that the nights were ten\n old nights long.\n\n\n Still, I've got an idea of some of the things that happened from the\n frozen folk I've seen, a few of them in other rooms in our building,\n others clustered around the furnaces in the basements where we go for\n coal.\n\n\n In one of the rooms, an old man sits stiff in a chair, with an arm and\n a leg in splints. In another, a man and woman are huddled together in\n a bed with heaps of covers over them. You can just see their heads\n peeking out, close together. And in another a beautiful young lady is\n sitting with a pile of wraps huddled around her, looking hopefully\n toward the door, as if waiting for someone who never came back with\n warmth and food. They're all still and stiff as statues, of course, but\n just like life.\n\n\n Pa showed them to me once in quick winks of his flashlight, when\n he still had a fair supply of batteries and could afford to waste\n a little light. They scared me pretty bad and made my heart pound,\n especially the young lady.\nNow, with Pa telling his story for the umpteenth time to take our minds\n off another scare, I got to thinking of the frozen folk again. All of a\n sudden I got an idea that scared me worse than anything yet. You see,\n I'd just remembered the face I'd thought I'd seen in the window. I'd\n forgotten about that on account of trying to hide it from the others.\n\n\n What, I asked myself, if the frozen folk were coming to life? What\n if they were like the liquid helium that got a new lease on life\n and started crawling toward the heat just when you thought its\n molecules ought to freeze solid forever? Or like the electricity that\n moves endlessly when it's just about as cold as that? What if the\n ever-growing cold, with the temperature creeping down the last few\n degrees to the last zero, had mysteriously wakened the frozen folk to\n life—not warm-blooded life, but something icy and horrible?\n\n\n That was a worse idea than the one about something coming down from the\n dark star to get us.\n\n\n Or maybe, I thought, both ideas might be true. Something coming down\n from the dark star and making the frozen folk move, using them to do\n its work. That would fit with both things I'd seen—the beautiful young\n lady and the moving, starlike light.\n\n\n The frozen folk with minds from the dark star behind their unwinking\n eyes, creeping, crawling, snuffing their way, following the heat to the\n Nest.\n\n\n I tell you, that thought gave me a very bad turn and I wanted very\n badly to tell the others my fears, but I remembered what Pa had said\n and clenched my teeth and didn't speak.\n\n\n We were all sitting very still. Even the fire was burning silently.\n There was just the sound of Pa's voice and the clocks.\n\n\n And then, from beyond the blankets, I thought I heard a tiny noise. My\n skin tightened all over me.\n\n\n Pa was telling about the early years in the Nest and had come to the\n place where he philosophizes.\n\n\n \"So I asked myself then,\" he said, \"what's the use of going on? What's\n the use of dragging it out for a few years? Why prolong a doomed\n existence of hard work and cold and loneliness? The human race is done.\n The Earth is done. Why not give up, I asked myself—and all of a sudden\n I got the answer.\"\n\n\n Again I heard the noise, louder this time, a kind of uncertain,\n shuffling tread, coming closer. I couldn't breathe.\n\n\n \"Life's always been a business of working hard and fighting the cold,\"\n Pa was saying. \"The earth's always been a lonely place, millions of\n miles from the next planet. And no matter how long the human race might\n have lived, the end would have come some night. Those things don't\n matter. What matters is that life is good. It has a lovely texture,\n like some rich cloth or fur, or the petals of flowers—you've seen\n pictures of those, but I can't describe how they feel—or the fire's\n glow. It makes everything else worth while. And that's as true for the\n last man as the first.\"\n\n\n And still the steps kept shuffling closer. It seemed to me that the\n inmost blanket trembled and bulged a little. Just as if they were\n burned into my imagination, I kept seeing those peering, frozen eyes.\n\n\n \"So right then and there,\" Pa went on, and now I could tell that he\n heard the steps, too, and was talking loud so we maybe wouldn't hear\n them, \"right then and there I told myself that I was going on as if\n we had all eternity ahead of us. I'd have children and teach them all\n I could. I'd get them to read books. I'd plan for the future, try to\n enlarge and seal the Nest. I'd do what I could to keep everything\n beautiful and growing. I'd keep alive my feeling of wonder even at the\n cold and the dark and the distant stars.\"\n\n\n But then the blanket actually did move and lift. And there was a bright\n light somewhere behind it. Pa's voice stopped and his eyes turned to\n the widening slit and his hand went out until it touched and gripped\n the handle of the hammer beside him.\nIn through the blanket stepped the beautiful young lady. She stood\n there looking at us the strangest way, and she carried something\n bright and unwinking in her hand. And two other faces peered over her\n shoulders—men's faces, white and staring.\n\n\n Well, my heart couldn't have been stopped for more than four or five\n beats before I realized she was wearing a suit and helmet like Pa's\n homemade ones, only fancier, and that the men were, too—and that the\n frozen folk certainly wouldn't be wearing those. Also, I noticed that\n the bright thing in her hand was just a kind of flashlight.\n\n\n The silence kept on while I swallowed hard a couple of times, and after\n that there was all sorts of jabbering and commotion.\n\n\n They were simply people, you see. We hadn't been the only ones to\n survive; we'd just thought so, for natural enough reasons. These three\n people had survived, and quite a few others with them. And when we\n found out\nhow\nthey'd survived, Pa let out the biggest whoop of joy.\n\n\n They were from Los Alamos and they were getting their heat and power\n from atomic energy. Just using the uranium and plutonium intended\n for bombs, they had enough to go on for thousands of years. They had\n a regular little airtight city, with air-locks and all. They even\n generated electric light and grew plants and animals by it. (At this Pa\n let out a second whoop, waking Ma from her faint.)\n\n\n But if we were flabbergasted at them, they were double-flabbergasted at\n us.\n\n\n One of the men kept saying, \"But it's impossible, I tell you. You\n can't maintain an air supply without hermetic sealing. It's simply\n impossible.\"\n\n\n That was after he had got his helmet off and was using our air.\n Meanwhile, the young lady kept looking around at us as if we were\n saints, and telling us we'd done something amazing, and suddenly she\n broke down and cried.\n\n\n They'd been scouting around for survivors, but they never expected to\n find any in a place like this. They had rocket ships at Los Alamos and\n plenty of chemical fuel. As for liquid oxygen, all you had to do was\n go out and shovel the air blanket at the top\nlevel\n. So after they'd\n got things going smoothly at Los Alamos, which had taken years, they'd\n decided to make some trips to likely places where there might be other\n survivors. No good trying long-distance radio signals, of course, since\n there was no atmosphere to carry them around the curve of the Earth.\n\n\n Well, they'd found other colonies at Argonne and Brookhaven and way\n around the world at Harwell and Tanna Tuva. And now they'd been giving\n our city a look, not really expecting to find anything. But they had an\n instrument that noticed the faintest heat waves and it had told them\n there was something warm down here, so they'd landed to investigate.\n Of course we hadn't heard them land, since there was no air to carry\n the sound, and they'd had to investigate around quite a while before\n finding us. Their instruments had given them a wrong steer and they'd\n wasted some time in the building across the street.\nBy now, all five adults were talking like sixty. Pa was demonstrating\n to the men how he worked the fire and got rid of the ice in the chimney\n and all that. Ma had perked up wonderfully and was showing the young\n lady her cooking and sewing stuff, and even asking about how the women\n dressed at Los Alamos. The strangers marveled at everything and praised\n it to the skies. I could tell from the way they wrinkled their noses\n that they found the Nest a bit smelly, but they never mentioned that at\n all and just asked bushels of questions.\n\n\n In fact, there was so much talking and excitement that Pa forgot about\n things, and it wasn't until they were all getting groggy that he looked\n and found the air had all boiled away in the pail. He got another\n bucket of air quick from behind the blankets. Of course that started\n them all laughing and jabbering again. The newcomers even got a little\n drunk. They weren't used to so much oxygen.\n\n\n Funny thing, though—I didn't do much talking at all and Sis hung on\n to Ma all the time and hid her face when anybody looked at her. I felt\n pretty uncomfortable and disturbed myself, even about the young lady.\n Glimpsing her outside there, I'd had all sorts of mushy thoughts, but\n now I was just embarrassed and scared of her, even though she tried to\n be nice as anything to me.\n\n\n I sort of wished they'd all quit crowding the Nest and let us be alone\n and get our feelings straightened out.\n\n\n And when the newcomers began to talk about our all going to Los Alamos,\n as if that were taken for granted, I could see that something of the\n same feeling struck Pa and Ma, too. Pa got very silent all of a sudden\n and Ma kept telling the young lady, \"But I wouldn't know how to act\n there and I haven't any clothes.\"\n\n\n The strangers were puzzled like anything at first, but then they got\n the idea. As Pa kept saying, \"It just doesn't seem right to let this\n fire go out.\"\nWell, the strangers are gone, but they're coming back. It hasn't been\n decided yet just what will happen. Maybe the Nest will be kept up as\n what one of the strangers called a \"survival school.\" Or maybe we will\n join the pioneers who are going to try to establish a new colony at the\n uranium mines at Great Slave Lake or in the Congo.\n\n\n Of course, now that the strangers are gone, I've been thinking a\n lot about Los Alamos and those other tremendous colonies. I have a\n hankering to see them for myself.\n\n\n You ask me, Pa wants to see them, too. He's been getting pretty\n thoughtful, watching Ma and Sis perk up.\n\n\n \"It's different, now that we know others are alive,\" he explains to me.\n \"Your mother doesn't feel so hopeless any more. Neither do I, for that\n matter, not having to carry the whole responsibility for keeping the\n human race going, so to speak. It scares a person.\"\n\n\n I looked around at the blanket walls and the fire and the pails of air\n boiling away and Ma and Sis sleeping in the warmth and the flickering\n light.\n\n\n \"It's not going to be easy to leave the Nest,\" I said, wanting to cry,\n kind of. \"It's so small and there's just the four of us. I get scared\n at the idea of big places and a lot of strangers.\"\n\n\n He nodded and put another piece of coal on the fire. Then he looked at\n the little pile and grinned suddenly and put a couple of handfuls on,\n just as if it was one of our birthdays or Christmas.\n\n\n \"You'll quickly get over that feeling son,\" he said. \"The trouble with\n the world was that it kept getting smaller and smaller, till it ended\n with just the Nest. Now it'll be good to have a real huge world again,\n the way it was in the beginning.\"\n\n\n I guess he's right. You think the beautiful young lady will wait for me\n till I grow up? I'll be twenty in only ten years.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does the Earth have no moon?", "question_unique_id": "51461_OV4JLLBG_1", "options": ["The moon disintegrated in the battle between stars", "The moon was stolen by a dark star", "The moon stayed with the sun", "The moon was flung off into space on its own"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many people are left alive on Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51461_OV4JLLBG_2", "options": ["a number of people in various places", "Only the boy", "Only the boy, his family, and some people in New Mexico", "Only the boy, his mom, his dad, and his sister"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are the layers of frozen material, from bottom to top?", "question_unique_id": "51461_OV4JLLBG_3", "options": ["Water, carbon dioxide, nitrogen, oxygen, helium", "Water, carbon dioxide, helium, oxygen, nitrogen", "Water, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, helium, oxygen", "Water, nitrogen, carbon dioxide, oxygen, helium"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the family communicate when they go outside?", "question_unique_id": "51461_OV4JLLBG_4", "options": ["By talking with their helmets touching", "By radio waves", "By tapping out morse code", "By flashing lights"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did his father not want the boy to tell his mom if he saw more lights outside?", "question_unique_id": "51461_OV4JLLBG_5", "options": ["He didn't want to hear her throw fits about it.", "He wanted to protect her like she had protected him", "He knew there was no one out there", "He didn't want her to be hopeful someone was coming"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many planets went with the dark star?", "question_unique_id": "51461_OV4JLLBG_6", "options": ["All of them", "Just the Earth", "Most of them", "The Earth and a couple of others"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the boy see by the window of the opposite apartment?", "question_unique_id": "51461_OV4JLLBG_7", "options": ["A small star that had come down to Earth", "A hallucination", "An instrument looking for life", "A young lady's face"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the family feel about leaving their home?", "question_unique_id": "51461_OV4JLLBG_8", "options": ["They want to leave as soon as possible", "They decide to stay in their home forever to keep the fire going", "It takes some time for them to decide to leave", "They are too afraid of strangers to leave"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/6/51461//51461-h//51461-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "50818", "set_unique_id": "50818_U50BKW97", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "How to Make Friends", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; Loneliness -- Fiction; PS; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction", "article": "HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS\nBy JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by WEST\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine October 1962.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nEvery lonely man tries to make friends.\n\n Manet just didn't know when to stop!\nWilliam Manet was alone.\n\n\n In the beginning, he had seen many advantages to being alone. It would\n give him an unprecedented opportunity to once and for all correlate\n loneliness to the point of madness, to see how long it would take him\n to start slavering and clawing the pin-ups from the magazines, to begin\n teaching himself classes in philosophy consisting of interminable\n lectures to a bored and captive audience of one.\n\n\n He would be able to measure the qualities of peace and decide whether\n it was really better than war, he would be able to get as fat and as\n dirty as he liked, he would be able to live more like an animal and\n think more like a god than any man for generations.\n\n\n But after a shorter time than he expected, it all got to be a tearing\n bore. Even the waiting to go crazy part of it.\n\n\n Not that he was going to have any great long wait of it. He was already\n talking to himself, making verbal notes for his lectures, and he had\n cut out a picture of Annie Oakley from an old book. He tacked it up and\n winked at it whenever he passed that way.\n\n\n Lately she was winking back at him.\n\n\n Loneliness was a physical weight on his skull. It peeled the flesh from\n his arms and legs and sandpapered his self-pity to a fine sensitivity.\n\n\n No one on Earth was as lonely as William Manet, and even William Manet\n could only be this lonely on Mars.\n\n\n Manet was Atmosphere Seeder Station 131-47's own human.\n\n\n All Manet had to do was sit in the beating aluminum heart in the middle\n of the chalk desert and stare out, chin cupped in hands, at the flat,\n flat pavement of dirty talcum, at the stars gleaming as hard in the\n black sky as a starlet's capped teeth ... stars two of which were moons\n and one of which was Earth. He had to do nothing else. The whole\n gimcrack was cybernetically controlled, entirely automatic. No one was\n needed here—no human being, at least.\n\n\n The Workers' Union was a pretty small pressure group, but it didn't\n take much to pressure the Assembly. Featherbedding had been carefully\n specified, including an Overseer for each of the Seeders to honeycomb\n Mars, to prepare its atmosphere for colonization.\n\n\n They didn't give tests to find well-balanced, well-integrated people\n for the job. Well-balanced, well-integrated men weren't going to\n isolate themselves in a useless job. They got, instead, William Manet\n and his fellows.\n\n\n The Overseers were to stay as long as the job required. Passenger fare\n to Mars was about one billion dollars. They weren't providing commuter\n service for night shifts. They weren't providing accommodations\n for couples when the law specified only one occupant. They weren't\n providing fuel (at fifty million dollars a gallon) for visits between\n the various Overseers. They weren't very providential.\n\n\n But it was two hundred thousand a year in salary, and it offered\n wonderful opportunities.\n\n\n It gave William Manet an opportunity to think he saw a spaceship making\n a tailfirst landing on the table of the desert, its tail burning as\n bright as envy.\nManet suspected hallucination, but in an existence with all the pallid\n dispassion of a requited love he was happy to welcome dementia.\n Sometimes he even manufactured it. Sometimes he would run through the\n arteries of the factory and play that it had suddenly gone mad hating\n human beings, and was about to close down its bulkheads on him as sure\n as the Engineers' Thumb and bale up the pressure-dehydrated digest,\n making so much stall flooring of him. He ran until he dropped with a\n kind of climaxing release of terror.\n\n\n So Manet put on the pressure suit he had been given because he would\n never need it, and marched out to meet the visiting spaceship.\n\n\n He wasn't quite clear how he came from walking effortlessly across\n the Martian plain that had all the distance-perpetuating qualities of\n a kid's crank movie machine to the comfortable interior of a strange\n cabin. Not a ship's cabin but a Northwoods cabin.\n\n\n The black and orange Hallowe'en log charring in the slate stone\n fireplace seemed real. So did the lean man with the smiling mustache\n painted with the random designs of the fire, standing before the\n horizontal pattern of chinked wall.\n\n\n \"Need a fresher?\" the host inquired.\n\n\n Manet's eyes wondered down to heavy water tumbler full of rich, amber\n whiskey full of sparks from the hearth. He stirred himself in the\n comfortingly warm leather chair. \"No, no, I'm\nfine\n.\" He let the word\n hang there for examination. \"Pardon me, but could you tell me just what\n place this is?\"\n\n\n The host shrugged. It was the only word for it. \"Whatever place you\n choose it to be, so long as you're with Trader Tom. 'Service,' that's\n my motto. It is a way of life with me.\"\n\n\n \"Trader Tom? Service?\"\n\n\n \"Yes! That's it exactly. It's\nme\nexactly. Trader Tom Service—Serving\n the Wants of the Spaceman Between the Stars. Of course, 'stars' is\n poetic. Any point of light in the sky in a star. We service the\n planets.\"\n\n\n Manet took the tumbler in both hands and drank. It was good whiskey,\n immensely powerful. \"The government wouldn't pay for somebody serving\n the wants of spacemen,\" he exploded.\n\n\n \"Ah,\" Trader Tom said, cautionary. He moved nearer the fire and warmed\n his hands and buttocks. \"Ah, but I am not a\ngovernment\nservice. I\n represent free enterprise.\"\n\"Nonsense,\" Manet said. \"No group of private individuals can build a\n spaceship. It takes a combine of nations.\"\n\n\n \"But remember only that businessmen are reactionary. It's well-known.\n Ask anyone on the street. Businessmen are reactionary even beyond the\n capitalistic system. Money is a fiction that exists mostly on paper.\n They play along on paper to get paper things, but to get real things\n they can forego the papers. Comprehend,\nmon ami\n? My businessmen\n have gone back to the barter system. Between them, they have the raw\n materials, the trained men, the man-hours to make a spaceship. So they\n make it. Damned reactionaries, all of my principals.\"\n\n\n \"I don't believe you,\" Manet stated flatly. His conversation had grown\n blunt with disuse. \"What possible profit could your principals turn\n from running a trading ship among scattered exploration posts on the\n planets? What could you give us that a benevolent government doesn't\n already supply us with? And if there was anything, how could we pay for\n it? My year's salary wouldn't cover the transportation costs of this\n glass of whiskey.\"\n\n\n \"Do you find it good whiskey?\"\n\n\n \"Very good.\"\n\n\n \"Excellent?\"\n\n\n \"Excellent, if you prefer.\"\n\n\n \"I only meant—but never mind. We give you what you want. As for\n paying for it—why, forget about the payment. You may apply for a\n Trader Tom Credit Card.\"\n\n\n \"And I could buy anything that I wanted with it?\" Manet demanded.\n \"That's absurd. I'd never be able to pay for it.\"\n\n\n \"That's it precisely!\" Trader Tom said with enthusiasm. \"You\nnever\npay for it. Charges are merely deducted from your\nestate\n.\"\n\n\n \"But I may leave no estate!\"\n\n\n Trader Tom demonstrated his peculiar shrug. \"All businesses operate on\n a certain margin of risk. That is our worry.\"\nManet finished the mellow whiskey and looked into the glass. It seemed\n to have been polished clean. \"What do you have to offer?\"\n\n\n \"Whatever you want?\"\n\n\n Irritably, \"How do I know what I want until I know what you have?\"\n\n\n \"You know.\"\n\n\n \"I know? All right, I know. You don't have it for sale.\"\n\n\n \"Old chap, understand if you please that I do not only\nsell\n. I\n am a trader—Trader Tom. I trade with many parties. There are, for\n example ... extraterrestrials.\"\n\n\n \"Folk legend!\"\n\n\n \"On the contrary,\nmon cher\n, the only reality it lacks is political\n reality. The Assembly could no longer justify their disposition of\n the cosmos if it were known they were dealing confiscation without\n representation. Come, tell me what you want.\"\n\n\n Manet gave in to it. \"I want to be not alone,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Trader Tom replied, \"I suspected. It is not so unusual,\n you know. Sign here. And here. Two copies. This is yours. Thank you so\n much.\"\n\n\n Manet handed back the pen and stared at the laminated card in his hand.\nWhen he looked up from the card, Manet saw the box. Trader Tom was\n pushing it across the floor towards him.\n\n\n The box had the general dimensions of a coffin, but it wasn't\n wood—only brightly illustrated cardboard. There was a large four-color\n picture on the lid showing men, women and children moving through a\n busy city street. The red and blue letters said:\nLIFO\nThe Socialization Kit\n\"It is commercialized,\" Trader Tom admitted with no little chagrin.\n \"It is presented to appeal to a twelve-year-old child, an erotic,\n aggressive twelve-year-old, the typical sensie goer—but that is\n reality. It offends men of good taste like ourselves, yet sometimes it\n approaches being art. We must accept it.\"\n\n\n \"What's the cost?\" Manet asked. \"Before I accept it, I have to know the\n charges.\"\n\n\n \"You never know the cost. Only your executor knows that. It's the\n Trader Tom plan.\"\n\n\n \"Well, is it guaranteed?\"\n\n\n \"There are no guarantees,\" Trader Tom admitted. \"But I've never had any\n complaints yet.\"\n\n\n \"Suppose I'm the first?\" Manet suggested reasonably.\n\n\n \"You won't be,\" Trader Tom said. \"I won't pass this way again.\"\nManet didn't open the box. He let it fade quietly in the filtered but\n still brilliant sunlight near a transparent wall.\n\n\n Manet puttered around the spawning monster, trying to brush the copper\n taste of the station out of his mouth in the mornings, talking to\n himself, winking at Annie Oakley, and waiting to go mad.\n\n\n Finally, Manet woke up one morning. He lay in the sheets of his bunk,\n suppressing the urge to go wash his hands, and came at last to the\n conclusion that, after all the delay, he was mad.\n\n\n So he went to open the box.\n\n\n The cardboard lid seemed to have become both brittle and rotten. It\n crumbled as easily as ideals. But Manet was old enough to remember the\n boxes Japanese toys came in when he was a boy, and was not alarmed.\n\n\n The contents were such a glorious pile of junk, of bottles from old\n chemistry sets, of pieces from old Erector sets, of nameless things and\n unremembered antiques from neglected places, that it seemed too good to\n have been assembled commercially. It was the collection of lifetime.\n\n\n On top of everything was a paperbound book, the size of the\nReader's\n Digest\n, covered in rippled gray flexiboard. The title was stamped in\n black on the spine and cover:\nThe Making of Friends\n.\n\n\n Manet opened the book and, turning one blank page, found the title\n in larger print and slightly amplified:\nThe Making of Friends and\n Others\n. There was no author listed. A further line of information\n stated: \"A Manual for Lifo, The Socialization Kit.\" At the bottom of\n the title page, the publisher was identified as: LIFO KIT CO., LTD.,\n SYRACUSE.\n\n\n The unnumbered first chapter was headed\nYour First Friend\n.\n\n\n Before you go further, first find the\nModifier\nin your kit. This\n is\nvital\n.\n\n\n He quickly riffled through the pages.\nOther Friends, Authority, A\n Companion\n.... Then\nThe Final Model\n. Manet tried to flip past this\n section, but the pages after the sheet labeled\nThe Final Model\nwere\n stuck together. More than stuck. There was a thick slab of plastic in\n the back of the book. The edges were ridged as if there were pages to\n this section, but they could only be the tracks of lame ants.\n\n\n Manet flipped back to page one.\n\n\n First find the\nModifier\nin your kit. This is\nvital\nto your entire\n experiment in socialization. The\nModifier is Part #A-1\non the Master\n Chart.\n\n\n He prowled through the box looking for some kind of a chart. There\n was nothing that looked like a chart inside. He retrieved the lid and\n looked at its inside. Nothing. He tipped the box and looked at its\n outside. Not a thing. There was always something missing from kits.\n Maybe even the\nModifier\nitself.\n\n\n He read on, and probed and scattered the parts in the long box. He\n studied the manual intently and groped out with his free hand.\n\n\n The toe bone was connected to the foot bone....\nThe Red King sat smugly in his diagonal corner.\n\n\n The Black King stood two places away, his top half tipsy in frustration.\n\n\n The Red King crabbed sideways one square.\n\n\n The Black King pounced forward one space.\n\n\n The Red King advanced backwards to face the enemy.\n\n\n The Black King shuffled sideways.\n\n\n The Red King followed....\n\n\n Uselessly.\n\n\n \"Tie game,\" Ronald said.\n\n\n \"Tie game,\" Manet said.\n\n\n \"Let's talk,\" Ronald said cheerfully. He was always cheerful.\n\n\n Cheerfulness was a personality trait Manet had thumbed out for him.\n Cheerful. Submissive. Co-operative. Manet had selected these factors in\n order to make Ronald as different a person from himself as possible.\n\n\n \"The Korean-American War was the greatest of all wars,\" Ronald said\n pontifically.\n\n\n \"Only in the air,\" Manet corrected him.\n\n\n Intelligence was one of the factors Manet had punched to suppress.\n Intelligence. Aggressiveness. Sense of perfection. Ronald couldn't know\n any more than Manet, but he could (and did) know less. He had seen to\n that when his own encephalograph matrix had programmed Ronald's feeder.\n\n\n \"There were no dogfights in Korea,\" Ronald said.\n\n\n \"I know.\"\n\n\n \"The dogfight was a combat of hundreds of planes in a tight area, the\n last of which took place near the end of the First World War. The\n aerial duel, sometimes inaccurately referred to as a 'dogfight' was not\n seen in Korea either. The pilots at supersonic speeds only had time for\n single passes at the enemy. Still, I believe, contrary to all experts,\n that this took greater skill, man more wedded to machine, than the\n leisurely combats of World War One.\"\n\n\n \"I know.\"\n\n\n \"Daniel Boone was still a crack shot at eight-five. He was said to be\n warm, sincere, modest, truthful, respected and rheumatic.\"\n\n\n \"I know.\"\nManet knew it all. He had heard it all before.\n\n\n He was so damned sick of hearing about Korean air battles, Daniel\n Boone, the literary qualities of ancient sports fiction magazines,\n the painting of Norman Rockwell, New York swing,\nad nauseum\n. What a\n narrow band of interests! With the whole universe to explore in thought\n and concept, why did he have to be trapped with such an unoriginal\n human being?\n\n\n Of course, Ronald wasn't an original human being. He was a copy.\n\n\n Manet had been interested in the Fabulous Forties—Lt. \"Hoot\" Gibson,\n Sam Merwin tennis stories,\nSaturday Evening Post\ncovers—when he had\n first learned of them, and he had learned all about them. He had firm\n opinions on all these.\n\n\n He yearned for someone to challenge him—to say that\nDime Sports\nhad\n been nothing but a cheap yellow rag and, why,\nSewanee Review\n, there\n had been a magazine for you.\n\n\n Manet's only consolidation was that Ronald's tastes were lower than his\n own. He patriotically insisted that the American Sabre Jet was superior\n to the Mig. He maintained with a straight face that Tommy Dorsey was a\n better band man than Benny Goodman. Ronald was a terrific jerk.\n\n\n \"Ronald,\" Manet said, \"you are a terrific jerk.\"\n\n\n Ronald leaped up immediately and led with his right.\n\n\n Manet blocked it deftly and threw a right cross.\n\n\n Ronald blocked it deftly, and drove in a right to the navel.\n\n\n The two men separated and, puffing like steam locomotives passing the\n diesel works, closed again.\n\n\n Ronald leaped forward and led with his right.\n\n\n Manet stepped inside the swing and lifted an uppercut to the ledge of\n Ronald's jaw.\n\n\n Ronald pinwheeled to the floor.\n\n\n He lifted his bruised head from the deck and worked his reddened mouth.\n \"Had enough?\" he asked Manet.\n\n\n Manet dropped his fists to his sides and turned away. \"Yes.\"\n\n\n Ronald hopped up lightly. \"Another checkers, Billy Boy?\"\n\n\n \"No.\"\n\n\n \"Okay. Anything you want, William, old conquerer.\"\n\n\n Manet scrunched up inside himself in impotent fury.\n\n\n Ronald was maddeningly co-operative and peaceful. He would even get in\n a fist fight to avoid trouble between them. He would do anything Manet\n wanted him to do. He was so utterly damned stupid.\n\n\n Manet's eyes orbitted towards the checkerboard.\n\n\n But if he were so much more stupid than he, Manet, why was it that\n their checker games always ended in a tie?\nThe calendar said it was Spring on Earth when the radio was activated\n for a high-speed information and entertainment transmission.\n\n\n The buzzer-flasher activated in the solarium at the same time.\n\n\n Manet lay stretched out on his back, naked, in front of the transparent\n wall.\n\n\n By rolling his eyes back in his head, Manet could see over a hedge of\n eyebrows for several hundred flat miles of white sand.\n\n\n And several hundred miles of desert could see him.\n\n\n For a moment he gloried in the blatant display of his flabby muscles\n and patchy sunburn.\n\n\n Then he sighed, rolled over to his feet and started trudging toward\n Communication.\n\n\n He padded down the rib-ridged matted corridor, taking his usual small\n pleasure in the kaleidoscopic effect of the spiraling reflections on\n the walls of the tubeway.\n\n\n As he passed the File Room, he caught the sound of the pounding\n vibrations against the stoppered plug of the hatch.\n\n\n \"Come on, Billy Buddy, let me out of this place!\"\n\n\n Manet padded on down the hall. He had, he recalled, shoved Ronald\n in there on Lincoln's Birthday, a minor ironic twist he appreciated\n quietly. He had been waiting in vain for Ronald to run down ever since.\n\n\n In Communication, he took a seat and punched the slowed down playback\n of the transmission.\n\n\n \"Hello, Overseers,\" the Voice said. It was the Voice of the B.B.C.\n It irritated Manet. He never understood how the British had got the\n space transmissions assignment for the English language. He would have\n preferred an American disk-jockey himself, one who appreciated New York\n swing.\n\n\n \"We imagine that you are most interested in how long you shall\n be required to stay at your present stations,\" said the Voice of\n God's paternal uncle. \"As you on Mars may know, there has been much\n discussion as to how long it will require to complete the present\n schedule—\" there was of course no \"K\" sound in the word—\"for\n atmosphere seeding.\n\n\n \"The original, non-binding estimate at the time of your departure was\n 18.2 years. However, determining how long it will take our stations\n properly to remake the air of Mars is a problem comparable to finding\n the age of the Earth. Estimates change as new factors are learned. You\n may recall that three years ago the official estimate was changed to\n thirty-one years. The recent estimate by certain reactionary sources\n of two hundred and seventy-four years is\nnot\nan official government\n estimate. The news for you is good, if you are becoming nostalgic for\n home, or not particularly bad if you are counting on drawing your\n handsome salary for the time spent on Mars. We have every reason to\n believe our\noriginal\nestimate was substantially correct. The total\n time is, within limits of error, a flat 18 years.\"\n\n\n A very flat 18 years, Manet thought as he palmed off the recorder.\n\n\n He sat there thinking about eighteen years.\n\n\n He did not switch to video for some freshly taped westerns.\n\n\n Finally, Manet went back to the solarium and dragged the big box out.\n There was a lot left inside.\n\n\n One of those parts, one of those bones or struts of flesh sprayers, one\n of them, he now knew, was the Modifier.\n\n\n The Modifier was what he needed to change Ronald. Or to shut him off.\n\n\n If only the Master Chart hadn't been lost, so he would know what the\n Modifier looked like! He hoped the Modifier itself wasn't lost. He\n hated to think of Ronald locked in the Usher tomb of the File Room\n for 18 flat years. Long before that, he would have worn his fists away\n hammering at the hatch. Then he might start pounding with his head.\n Perhaps before the time was up he would have worn himself down to\n nothing whatsoever.\n\n\n Manet selected the ripple-finished gray-covered manual from the\n hodgepodge, and thought: eighteen years.\n\n\n Perhaps I should have begun here, he told himself. But I really don't\n have as much interest in that sort of thing as the earthier types.\n Simple companionship was all I wanted. And, he thought on, even an\n insipid personality like Ronald's would be bearable with certain\n compensations.\n\n\n Manet opened the book to the chapter headed:\nThe Making of a Girl\n.\nVeronica crept up behind Manet and slithered her hands up his back and\n over his shoulders. She leaned forward and breathed a moist warmth into\n his ear, and worried the lobe with her even white teeth.\n\n\n \"Daniel Boone,\" she sighed huskily, \"only killed three Indians in his\n life.\"\n\n\n \"I know.\"\n\n\n Manet folded his arms stoically and added: \"Please don't talk.\"\n\n\n She sighed her instant agreement and moved her expressive hands over\n his chest and up to the hollows of his throat.\n\n\n \"I need a shave,\" he observed.\n\n\n Her hands instantly caressed his face to prove that she liked a rather\n bristly, masculine countenance.\n\n\n Manet elbowed Veronica away in a gentlemanly fashion.\n\n\n She made her return.\n\n\n \"Not now,\" he instructed her.\n\n\n \"Whenever you say.\"\n\n\n He stood up and began pacing off the dimensions of the compartment.\n There was no doubt about it: he had been missing his regular exercise.\n\n\n \"Now?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"I'll tell you.\"\n\n\n \"If you were a jet pilot,\" Veronica said wistfully, \"you would be\n romantic. You would grab love when you could. You would never know\n which moment would be last. You would make the most of each one.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not a jet pilot,\" Manet said. \"There are no jet pilots. There\n haven't been any for generations.\"\n\n\n \"Don't be silly,\" Veronica said. \"Who else would stop those vile North\n Koreans and Red China 'volunteers'?\"\n\n\n \"Veronica,\" he said carefully, \"the Korean War is over. It was finished\n even before the last of the jet pilots.\"\n\n\n \"Don't be silly,\" she snapped. \"If it were over, I'd know about it,\n wouldn't I?\"\n\n\n She would, except that somehow she had turned out even less bright,\n less equipped with Manet's own store of information, than Ronald.\n Whoever had built the Lifo kit must have had ancient ideas about what\n constituted appropriate \"feminine\" characteristics.\n\n\n \"I suppose,\" he said heavily, \"that you would like me to take you back\n to Earth and introduce you to Daniel Boone?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes.\"\n\n\n \"Veronica, your stupidity is hideous.\"\n\n\n She lowered her long blonde lashes on her pink cheeks. \"That is a mean\n thing to say to me. But I forgive you.\"\n\n\n An invisible hand began pressing down steadily on the top of his head\n until it forced a sound out of him. \"Aaaawrraagggh! Must you be so\n cloyingly sweet? Do you have to keep taking that? Isn't there any fight\n in you at all?\"\n\n\n He stepped forward and back-handed her across the jaw.\n\n\n It was the first time he had ever struck a woman, he realized\n regretfully. He now knew he should have been doing it long ago.\n\n\n Veronica sprang forward and led with a right.\nRonald's cries grew louder as Manet marched Veronica through the\n corridor.\n\n\n \"Hear that?\" he inquired, smiling with clenched teeth.\n\n\n \"No, darling.\"\n\n\n Well, that was all right. He remembered he had once told her to ignore\n the noise. She was still following orders.\n\n\n \"Come on, Bill, open up the hatch for old Ronald,\" the voice carried\n through sepulchrally.\n\n\n \"Shut up!\" Manet yelled.\n\n\n The voice dwindled stubbornly, then cut off.\n\n\n A silence with a whisper of metallic ring to it.\n\n\n Why hadn't he thought of that before? Maybe because he secretly took\n comfort in the sound of an almost human voice echoing through the\n station.\n\n\n Manet threw back the bolt and wheeled back the hatch.\n\n\n Ronald looked just the same as had when Manet had seen him last. His\n hands didn't seem to have been worn away in the least. Ronald's lips\n seemed a trifle chapped. But that probably came not from all the\n shouting but from having nothing to drink for some months.\n\n\n Ronald didn't say anything to Manet.\n\n\n But he looked offended.\n\n\n \"You,\" Manet said to Veronica with a shove in the small of the back,\n \"inside, inside.\"\n\n\n Ronald sidestepped the lurching girl.\n\n\n \"Do you know what I'm going to do with you?\" Manet demanded. \"I'm going\n to lock you up in here, and leave you for a day, a month, a year,\n forever! Now what do you think about that?\"\n\n\n \"If you think it's the\nright\nthing, dear,\" Veronica said hesitantly.\n\n\n \"You know best, Willy,\" Ronald said uncertainly.\n\n\n Manet slammed the hatch in disgust.\n\n\n Manet walked carefully down the corridor, watching streamers of\n his reflection corkscrewing into the curved walls. He had to walk\n carefully, else the artery would roll up tight and squash him. But he\n walked too carefully for this to happen.\n\n\n As he passed the File Room, Ronald's voice said: \"In my opinion,\n William, you should let us out.\"\n\n\n \"I,\" Veronica said, \"honestly feel that you should let me out, Bill,\n dearest.\"\n\n\n Manet giggled. \"What? What was that? Do you suggest that I take you\n back after you've been behind a locked door with my best friend?\"\n\n\n He went down the corridor, giggling.\n\n\n He giggled and thought: This will never do.\nPouring and tumbling through the Lifo kit, consulting the manual\n diligently, Manet concluded that there weren't enough parts left in the\n box to go around.\n\n\n The book gave instructions for The Model Mother, The Model Father, The\n Model Sibling and others. Yet there weren't parts enough in the kit.\n\n\n He would have to take parts from Ronald or Veronica in order to make\n any one of the others. And he could not do that without the Modifier.\n\n\n He wished Trader Tom would return and extract some higher price from\n him for the Modifier, which was clearly missing from the kit.\n\n\n Or to get even more for simply repossessing the kit.\n\n\n But Trader Tom would not be back. He came this way only once.\n\n\n Manet thumbed through the manual in mechanical frustration. As he did\n so, the solid piece of the last section parted sheet by sheet.\n\n\n He glanced forward and found the headings:\nThe Final Model\n.\n\n\n There seemed something ominous about that finality. But he had paid\n a price for the kit, hadn't he? Who knew what price, when it came to\n that? He had every right to get everything out of the kit that he\n could.\n\n\n He read the unfolding page critically. The odd assortment of\n ill-matched parts left in the box took a new shape in his mind and\n under his fingers....\n\n\n Manet gave one final spurt from the flesh-sprayer and stood back.\n\n\n Victor was finished. Perfect.\n\n\n Manet stepped forward, lifted the model's left eyelid, tweaked his nose.\n\n\n \"Move!\"\n\n\n Victor leaped back into the Lifo kit and did a jig on one of the\n flesh-sprayers.\n\n\n As the device twisted as handily as good intentions, Manet realized\n that it was not a flesh-sprayer but the Modifier.\n\n\n \"It's finished!\" were Victor's first words. \"It's done!\"\n\n\n Manet stared at the tiny wreck. \"To say the least.\"\n\n\n Victor stepped out of the oblong box. \"There is something you should\n understand. I am different from the others.\"\n\n\n \"They all say that.\"\n\n\n \"I am not your friend.\"\n\n\n \"No?\"\n\n\n \"No. You have made yourself an enemy.\"\n\n\n Manet felt nothing more at this information than an esthetic pleasure\n at the symmetry of the situation.\n\n\n \"It completes the final course in socialization,\" Victor continued. \"I\n am your adversary. I will do everything I can to defeat you. I have\nall\nyour knowledge.\nYou\ndo not have all your knowledge. If you let\n yourself know some of the things, it could be used against you. It is\n my function to use everything I possibly can against you.\"\n\n\n \"When do you start?\"\n\n\n \"I've finished. I've done my worst. I have destroyed the Modifier.\"\n\n\n \"What's so bad about that?\" Manet asked with some interest.\n\n\n \"You'll have Veronica and Ronald and me forever now. We'll never\n change. You'll get older, and we'll never change. You'll lose your\n interest in New York swing and jet combat and Daniel Boone, and we'll\n never change. We don't change and you can't change us for others. I've\n made the worst thing happen to you that can happen to any man.\nI've\n seen that you will always keep your friends.\n\"\nThe prospect\nwas\nfrightful.\n\n\n Victor smiled. \"Aren't you going to denounce me for a fiend?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, it is time for the denouncement. Tell me, you feel that now you\n are through? You have fulfilled your function?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Now you will have but to lean back, as it were, so to speak, and see\n me suffer?\"\n\n\n \"\nYes.\n\"\n\n\n \"No. Can't do it, old man. Can't.\nI\nknow. You're too human, too\n like me. The one thing a man can't accept is a passive state, a state\n of uselessness. Not if he can possibly avoid it. Something has to be\n happening to him. He has to be happening to something. You didn't kill\n me because then you would have nothing left to do. You'll never kill\n me.\"\n\n\n \"Of course not!\" Victor stormed. \"Fundamental safety cut-off!\"\n\n\n \"Rationalization. You don't\nwant\nto kill me. And you can't stop\n challenging me at every turn. That's your function.\"\n\n\n \"Stop talking and just think about your miserable life,\" Victor said\n meanly. \"Your friends won't grow and mature with you. You won't make\n any new friends. You'll have me to constantly remind you of your\n uselessness, your constant unrelenting sterility of purpose. How's that\n for boredom, for passiveness?\"\n\n\n \"That's what I'm trying to tell you,\" Manet said irritably, his social\n manners rusty. \"I won't be bored. You will see to that. It's your\n purpose. You'll be a challenge, an obstacle, a source of triumph every\n foot of the way. Don't you see? With you for an enemy, I don't need a\n friend!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is NOT one of the reasons Manet wanted to be alone?", "question_unique_id": "50818_U50BKW97_1", "options": ["To be able to practice poor hygiene", "To see how long it would take to go mad", "To compare peace and war", "To feel bored"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Manet do at his job?", "question_unique_id": "50818_U50BKW97_2", "options": ["Take measurements of the stars, moons, and Earth", "Control the atmosphere seeder station", "Control the gimcrack", "Nothing"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Manet find in the desert?", "question_unique_id": "50818_U50BKW97_3", "options": ["Nothing, he was hallucinating", "A businessman in a spaceship", "A cabin with a fireplace", "A spaceship sent by the government"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Manet ask for from the trader?", "question_unique_id": "50818_U50BKW97_4", "options": ["A companion", "Whiskey", "Nothing", "A credit card"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the trader not get any requests for returns?", "question_unique_id": "50818_U50BKW97_5", "options": ["He charges a lot for his wares", "His merchandise is so pleasing", "People don't know how much the items cost", "He only visits each place one time"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Manet feel about his last creation?", "question_unique_id": "50818_U50BKW97_6", "options": ["He was upset the man was a friend", "He was happy the man was an antagonist", "He was upset the man was an antagonist", "He was happy the man was a friend"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who did Manet like the best?", "question_unique_id": "50818_U50BKW97_7", "options": ["Trader Tom", "Veronica", "Victor", "Ronald"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51687", "set_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Spy in the Elevator", "year": 1970, "author": "Westlake, Donald E.", "topic": "Post-apocalyptic fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "THE SPY IN THE ELEVATOR\nBy DONALD E. WESTLAKE\n\n\n Illustrated by WEST\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine October 1961.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHe was dangerously insane. He threatened\n \nto destroy everything that was noble and\n \ndecent—including my date with my girl!\nWhen the elevator didn't come, that just made the day perfect. A broken\n egg yolk, a stuck zipper, a feedback in the aircon exhaust, the window\n sticking at full transparency—well, I won't go through the whole sorry\n list. Suffice it to say that when the elevator didn't come, that put\n the roof on the city, as they say.\n\n\n It was just one of those days. Everybody gets them. Days when you're\n lucky in you make it to nightfall with no bones broken.\n\n\n But of all times for it to happen! For literally months I'd been\n building my courage up. And finally, just today, I had made up my\n mind to do it—to propose to Linda. I'd called her second thing this\n morning—right after the egg yolk—and invited myself down to her\n place. \"Ten o'clock,\" she'd said, smiling sweetly at me out of the\n phone. She knew why I wanted to talk to her. And when Linda said ten\n o'clock, she meant ten o'clock.\n\n\n Don't get me wrong. I don't mean that Linda's a perfectionist or a\n harridan or anything like that. Far from it. But she does have a\n fixation on that one subject of punctuality. The result of her job,\n of course. She was an ore-sled dispatcher. Ore-sleds, being robots,\n were invariably punctual. If an ore-sled didn't return on time, no one\n waited for it. They simply knew that it had been captured by some other\n Project and had blown itself up.\n\n\n Well, of course, after working as an ore-sled dispatcher for three\n years, Linda quite naturally was a bit obsessed. I remember one time,\n shortly after we'd started dating, when I arrived at her place five\n minutes late and found her having hysterics. She thought I'd been\n killed. She couldn't visualize anything less than that keeping me from\n arriving at the designated moment. When I told her what actually had\n happened—I'd broken a shoe lace—she refused to speak to me for four\n days.\n\n\n And then the elevator didn't come.\nUntil then, I'd managed somehow to keep the day's minor disasters from\n ruining my mood. Even while eating that horrible egg—I couldn't very\n well throw it away, broken yolk or no; it was my breakfast allotment\n and I was hungry—and while hurriedly jury-rigging drapery across that\n gaspingly transparent window—one hundred and fifty-three stories\n straight down to slag—I kept going over and over my prepared proposal\n speeches, trying to select the most effective one.\n\n\n I had a Whimsical Approach: \"Honey, I see there's a nice little\n Non-P apartment available up on one seventy-three.\" And I had a\n Romantic Approach: \"Darling, I can't live without you at the moment.\n Temporarily, I'm madly in love with you. I want to share my life\n with you for a while. Will you be provisionally mine?\" I even had a\n Straightforward Approach: \"Linda, I'm going to be needing a wife for at\n least a year or two, and I can't think of anyone I would rather spend\n that time with than you.\"\n\n\n Actually, though I wouldn't even have admitted this to Linda, much less\n to anyone else, I loved her in more than a Non-P way. But even if we\n both had been genetically desirable (neither of us were) I knew that\n Linda relished her freedom and independence too much to ever contract\n for any kind of marriage other than Non-P—Non-Permanent, No Progeny.\n\n\n So I rehearsed my various approaches, realizing that when the time\n came I would probably be so tongue-tied I'd be capable of no more\n than a blurted, \"Will you marry me?\" and I struggled with zippers and\n malfunctioning air-cons, and I managed somehow to leave the apartment\n at five minutes to ten.\n\n\n Linda lived down on the hundred fortieth floor, thirteen stories away.\n It never took more than two or three minutes to get to her place, so I\n was giving myself plenty of time.\n\n\n But then the elevator didn't come.\n\n\n I pushed the button, waited, and nothing happened. I couldn't\n understand it.\n\n\n The elevator had always arrived before, within thirty seconds of\n the button being pushed. This was a local stop, with an elevator\n that traveled between the hundred thirty-third floor and the hundred\n sixty-seventh floor, where it was possible to make connections for\n either the next local or for the express. So it couldn't be more than\n twenty stories away. And this was a non-rush hour.\n\n\n I pushed the button again, and then I waited some more. I looked at my\n watch and it was three minutes to ten. Two minutes, and no elevator! If\n it didn't arrive this instant, this second, I would be late.\n\n\n It didn't arrive.\n\n\n I vacillated, not knowing what to do next. Stay, hoping the elevator\n would come after all? Or hurry back to the apartment and call Linda, to\n give her advance warning that I would be late?\n\n\n Ten more seconds, and still no elevator. I chose the second\n alternative, raced back down the hall, and thumbed my way into my\n apartment. I dialed Linda's number, and the screen lit up with white\n letters on black: PRIVACY DISCONNECTION.\n\n\n Of course! Linda expected me at any moment. And she knew what I wanted\n to say to her, so quite naturally she had disconnected the phone, to\n keep us from being interrupted.\n\n\n Frantic, I dashed from the apartment again, back down the hall to the\n elevator, and leaned on that blasted button with all my weight. Even if\n the elevator should arrive right now, I would still be almost a minute\n late.\n\n\n No matter. It didn't arrive.\n\n\n I would have been in a howling rage anyway, but this impossibility\n piled on top of all the other annoyances and breakdowns of the day\n was just too much. I went into a frenzy, and kicked the elevator door\n three times before I realized I was hurting myself more than I was\n hurting the door. I limped back to the apartment, fuming, slammed the\n door behind me, grabbed the phone book and looked up the number of\n the Transit Staff. I dialed, prepared to register a complaint so loud\n they'd be able to hear me in sub-basement three.\n\n\n I got some more letters that spelled: BUSY.\nIt took three tries before I got through to a hurried-looking female\n receptionist \"My name is Rice!\" I bellowed. \"Edmund Rice! I live on the\n hundred and fifty-third floor! I just rang for the elevator and——\"\n\n\n \"The-elevator-is-disconnected.\" She said it very rapidly, as though she\n were growing very used to saying it.\n\n\n It only stopped me for a second. \"Disconnected? What do you mean\n disconnected? Elevators don't\nget\ndisconnected!\" I told her.\n\n\n \"We-will-resume-service-as-soon-as-possible,\" she rattled. My bellowing\n was bouncing off her like radiation off the Project force-screen.\n\n\n I changed tactics. First I inhaled, making a production out of it,\n giving myself a chance to calm down a bit. And then I asked, as\n rationally as you could please, \"Would you mind terribly telling me\nwhy\nthe elevator is disconnected?\"\n\n\n \"I-am-sorry-sir-but-that——\"\n\n\n \"Stop,\" I said. I said it quietly, too, but she stopped. I saw her\n looking at me. She hadn't done that before, she'd merely gazed blankly\n at her screen and parroted her responses.\n\n\n But now she was actually looking at\nme\n.\n\n\n I took advantage of the fact. Calmly, rationally, I said to her, \"I\n would like to tell you something, Miss. I would like to tell you just\n what you people have done to me by disconnecting the elevator. You have\n ruined my life.\"\n\n\n She blinked, open-mouthed. \"Ruined your life?\"\n\n\n \"Precisely.\" I found it necessary to inhale again, even more slowly\n than before. \"I was on my way,\" I explained, \"to propose to a girl whom\n I dearly love. In every way but one, she is the perfect woman. Do you\n understand me?\"\n\n\n She nodded, wide-eyed. I had stumbled on a romantic, though I was too\n preoccupied to notice it at the time.\n\n\n \"In every way but one,\" I continued. \"She has one small imperfection,\n a fixation about punctuality. And I was supposed to meet her at ten\n o'clock.\nI'm late!\n\" I shook my fist at the screen. \"Do you realize\n what you've\ndone\n, disconnecting the elevator? Not only won't she\n marry me, she won't even\nspeak\nto me! Not now! Not after this!\"\n\n\n \"Sir,\" she said tremulously, \"please don't shout.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not shouting!\"\n\n\n \"Sir, I'm terribly sorry. I understand your—\"\n\n\n \"You\nunderstand\n?\" I trembled with speechless fury.\n\n\n She looked all about her, and then leaned closer to the screen,\n revealing a cleavage that I was too distraught at the moment to pay\n any attention to. \"We're not supposed to give this information out,\n sir,\" she said, her voice low, \"but I'm going to tell you, so you'll\n understand why we had to do it. I think it's perfectly awful that it\n had to ruin things for you this way. But the fact of the matter is—\"\n she leaned even closer to the screen—\"there's a spy in the elevator.\"\nII\n\n\n It was my turn to be stunned.\n\n\n I just gaped at her. \"A—a what?\"\n\n\n \"A spy. He was discovered on the hundred forty-seventh floor, and\n managed to get into the elevator before the Army could catch him. He\n jammed it between floors. But the Army is doing everything it can think\n of to get him out.\"\n\n\n \"Well—but why should there be any problem about getting him out?\"\n\n\n \"He plugged in the manual controls. We can't control the elevator from\n outside at all. And when anyone tries to get into the shaft, he aims\n the elevator at them.\"\n\n\n That sounded impossible. \"He\naims\nthe elevator?\"\n\n\n \"He runs it up and down the shaft,\" she explained, \"trying to crush\n anybody who goes after him.\"\n\n\n \"Oh,\" I said. \"So it might take a while.\"\n\n\n She leaned so close this time that even I, distracted as I was, could\n hardly help but take note of her cleavage. She whispered, \"They're\n afraid they'll have to starve him out.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, no!\"\n\n\n She nodded solemnly. \"I'm terribly sorry, sir,\" she said. Then she\n glanced to her right, suddenly straightened up again, and said,\n \"We-will-resume-service-as-soon-as-possible.\" Click. Blank screen.\n\n\n For a minute or two, all I could do was sit and absorb what I'd been\n told. A spy in the elevator! A spy who had managed to work his way all\n the way up to the hundred forty-seventh floor before being unmasked!\n\n\n What in the world was the matter with the Army? If things were getting\n that lax, the Project was doomed, force-screen or no. Who knew how many\n more spies there were in the Project, still unsuspected?\n\n\n Until that moment, the state of siege in which we all lived had had\n no reality for me. The Project, after all, was self-sufficient and\n completely enclosed. No one ever left, no one ever entered. Under our\n roof, we were a nation, two hundred stories high. The ever-present\n threat of other projects had never been more for me—or for most other\n people either, I suspected—than occasional ore-sleds that didn't\n return, occasional spies shot down as they tried to sneak into the\n building, occasional spies of our own leaving the Project in tiny\n radiation-proof cars, hoping to get safely within another project and\n bring back news of any immediate threats and dangers that project might\n be planning for us. Most spies didn't return; most ore-sleds did. And\n within the Project life was full, the knowledge of external dangers\n merely lurking at the backs of our minds. After all, those external\n dangers had been no more than potential for decades, since what Dr.\n Kilbillie called the Ungentlemanly Gentleman's War.\n\n\n Dr. Kilbillie—Intermediate Project History, when I was fifteen years\n old—had private names for every major war of the twentieth century.\n There was the Ignoble Nobleman's War, the Racial Non-Racial War, and\n the Ungentlemanly Gentleman's War, known to the textbooks of course as\n World Wars One, Two, and Three.\n\n\n The rise of the Projects, according to Dr. Kilbillie, was the result of\n many many factors, but two of the most important were the population\n explosion and the Treaty of Oslo. The population explosion, of course,\n meant that there was continuously more and more people but never any\n more space. So that housing, in the historically short time of one\n century, made a complete transformation from horizontal expansion to\n vertical. Before 1900, the vast majority of human beings lived in\n tiny huts of from one to five stories. By 2000,\neverybody\nlived in\n Projects. From the very beginning, small attempts were made to make\n these Projects more than dwelling places. By mid-century, Projects\n (also called apartments and co-ops) already included restaurants,\n shopping centers, baby-sitting services, dry cleaners and a host of\n other adjuncts. By the end of the century, the Projects were completely\n self-sufficient, with food grown hydroponically in the sub-basements,\n separate floors set aside for schools and churches and factories, robot\n ore-sleds capable of seeking out raw materials unavailable within the\n Projects themselves and so on. And all because of, among other things,\n the population explosion.\n\n\n And the Treaty of Oslo.\n\n\n It seems there was a power-struggle between two sets of then-existing\n nations (they were something like Projects, only horizontal instead of\n vertical) and both sets were equipped with atomic weapons. The Treaty\n of Oslo began by stating that atomic war was unthinkable, and added\n that just in case anyone happened to think of it only\ntactical\natomic\n weapons could be used. No\nstrategic\natomic weapons. (A tactical\n weapon is something you use on the soldiers, and a strategic weapons is\n something you use on the folks at home.) Oddly enough, when somebody\n did think of the war, both sides adhered to the Treaty of Oslo, which\n meant that no Projects were bombed.\n\n\n Of course, they made up for this as best they could by using tactical\n atomic weapons all over the place. After the war almost the whole\n world was quite dangerously radioactive. Except for the Projects. Or\n at least those of them which had in time installed the force screens\n which had been invented on the very eve of battle, and which deflected\n radioactive particles.\n\n\n However, what with all of the\nother\ntreaties which were broken during\n the Ungentlemanly Gentleman's War, by the time it was finished nobody\n was quite sure any more who was on whose side. That project over there\n on the horizon might be an ally. And then again it might not. Since\n they weren't sure either, it was risky to expose yourself in order to\n ask.\n\n\n And so life went on, with little to remind us of the dangers lurking\n Outside. The basic policy of Eternal Vigilance and Instant Preparedness\n was left to the Army. The rest of us simply lived our lives and let it\n go at that.\nBut now there was a spy in the elevator.\n\n\n When I thought of how deeply he had penetrated our defenses, and of how\n many others there might be, still penetrating, I shuddered. The walls\n were our safeguards only so long as all potential enemies were on the\n other side of them.\n\n\n I sat shaken, digesting this news, until suddenly I remembered Linda.\n\n\n I leaped to my feet, reading from my watch that it was now ten-fifteen.\n I dashed once more from the apartment and down the hall to the\n elevator, praying that the spy had been captured by now and that Linda\n would agree with me that a spy in the elevator was good and sufficient\n reason for me to be late.\n\n\n He was still there. At least, the elevator was still out.\n\n\n I sagged against the wall, thinking dismal thoughts. Then I noticed the\n door to the right of the elevator. Through that door was the stairway.\n\n\n I hadn't paid any attention to it before. No one ever uses the stairs\n except adventurous young boys playing cops and robbers, running up and\n down from landing to landing. I myself hadn't set foot on a flight of\n stairs since I was twelve years old.\n\n\n Actually, the whole idea of stairs was ridiculous. We had elevators,\n didn't we? Usually, I mean, when they didn't contain spies. So what was\n the use of stairs?\n\n\n Well, according to Dr. Kilbillie (a walking library of unnecessary\n information), the Project had been built when there still had been such\n things as municipal governments (something to do with cities, which\n were more or less grouped Projects), and the local municipal government\n had had on its books a fire ordinance, anachronistic even then, which\n required a complete set of stairs in every building constructed in the\n city. Ergo, the Project had stairs, thirty-two hundred of them.\n\n\n And now, after all these years, the stairs might prove useful after\n all. It was only thirteen flights to Linda's floor. At sixteen steps a\n flight, that meant two hundred and eight steps.\n\n\n Could I descend two hundred and eight steps for my true love? I could.\n If the door would open.\n\n\n It would, though reluctantly. Who knew how many years it had been since\n last this door had been opened? It squeaked and wailed and groaned and\n finally opened half way. I stepped through to the musty, dusty landing,\n took a deep breath, and started down. Eight steps and a landing, eight\n steps and a floor. Eight steps and a landing, eight steps and a floor.\n\n\n On the landing between one fifty and one forty-nine, there was a\n smallish door. I paused, looking curiously at it, and saw that at one\n time letters had been painted on it. The letters had long since flaked\n away, but they left a lighter residue of dust than that which covered\n the rest of the door. And so the words could still be read, if with\n difficulty.\n\n\n I read them. They said:\nEMERGENCY ENTRANCE\n\n ELEVATOR SHAFT\n\n AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL\n\n ONLY\n\n KEEP LOCKED\n\n\n I frowned, wondering immediately why this door wasn't being firmly\n guarded by at least a platoon of Army men. Half a dozen possible\n answers flashed through my mind. The more recent maps might simply\n have omitted this discarded and unnecessary door. It might be sealed\n shut on the other side. The Army might have caught the spy already.\n Somebody in authority might simply have goofed.\n\n\n As I stood there, pondering these possibilities, the door opened and\n the spy came out, waving a gun.\nIII\n\n\n He couldn't have been anyone else but the spy. The gun, in the first\n place. The fact that he looked harried and upset and terribly nervous,\n in the second place. And, of course, the fact that he came from the\n elevator shaft.\n\n\n Looking back, I think he must have been just as startled as I when we\n came face to face like that. We formed a brief tableau, both of us\n open-mouthed and wide-eyed.\n\n\n Unfortunately, he recovered first.\n\n\n He closed the emergency door behind him, quickly but quietly. His gun\n stopped waving around and instead pointed directly at my middle. \"Don't\n move!\" he whispered harshly. \"Don't make a sound!\"\n\n\n I did exactly as I was told. I didn't move and I didn't make a sound.\n Which left me quite free to study him.\n\n\n He was rather short, perhaps three inches shorter than me, with a bony\n high-cheekboned face featuring deepset eyes and a thin-lipped mouth. He\n wore gray slacks and shirt, with brown slippers on his feet. He looked\n exactly like a spy ... which is to say that he\ndidn't\nlook like a\n spy, he looked overpoweringly ordinary. More than anything else, he\n reminded me of a rather taciturn milkman who used to make deliveries to\n my parents' apartment.\n\n\n His gaze darted this way and that. Then he motioned with his free hand\n at the descending stairs and whispered, \"Where do they go?\"\n\n\n I had to clear my throat before I could speak. \"All the way down,\" I\n said.\n\n\n \"Good,\" he said—just as we both heard a sudden raucous squealing from\n perhaps four flights down, a squealing which could be nothing but the\n opening of a hall door. It was followed by the heavy thud of ascending\n boots. The Army!\n\n\n But if I had any visions of imminent rescue, the spy dashed them. He\n said, \"Where do you live?\"\n\n\n \"One fifty-three,\" I said. This was a desperate and dangerous man.\n I knew my only slim chance of safety lay in answering his questions\n promptly, cooperating with him until and unless I saw a chance to\n either escape or capture him.\n\n\n \"All right,\" he whispered. \"Go on.\" He prodded me with the gun.\n\n\n And so we went back up the stairs to one fifty-three, and stopped at\n the door. He stood close behind me, the gun pressed against my back,\n and grated in my ear, \"I'll have this gun in my pocket. If you make one\n false move I'll kill you. Now, we're going to your apartment. We're\n friends, just strolling along together. You got that?\"\n\n\n I nodded.\n\n\n \"All right. Let's go.\"\n\n\n We went. I have never in my life seen that long hall quite so empty as\n it was right then. No one came out of any of the apartments, no one\n emerged from any of the branch halls. We walked to my apartment. I\n thumbed the door open and we went inside.\n\n\n Once the door was closed behind us, he visibly relaxed, sagging against\n the door, his gun hand hanging limp at his side, a nervous smile\n playing across his lips.\n\n\n I looked at him, judging the distance between us, wondering if I could\n leap at him before he could bring the gun up again. But he must have\n read my intentions on my face. He straightened, shaking his head. He\n said, \"Don't try it. I don't want to kill you. I don't want to kill\n anybody, but I will if I have to. We'll just wait here together until\n the hue and cry passes us. Then I'll tie you up, so you won't be able\n to sic your Army on me too soon, and I'll leave. If you don't try any\n silly heroics, nothing will happen to you.\"\n\n\n \"You'll never get away,\" I told him. \"The whole Project is alerted.\"\n\n\n \"You let me worry about that,\" he said. He licked his lips. \"You got\n any chico coffee?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Make me a cup. And don't get any bright ideas about dousing me with\n boiling water.\"\n\n\n \"I only have my day's allotment,\" I protested. \"Just enough for two\n cups, lunch and dinner.\"\n\n\n \"Two cups is fine,\" he said. \"One for each of us.\"\nAnd now I had yet another grudge against this blasted spy. Which\n reminded me again of Linda. From the looks of things, I wasn't\never\ngoing to get to her place. By now she was probably in mourning for me\n and might even have the Sanitation Staff searching for my remains.\n\n\n As I made the chico, he asked me questions. My name first, and then,\n \"What do you do for a living?\"\n\n\n I thought fast. \"I'm an ore-sled dispatcher,\" I said. That was a lie,\n of course, but I'd heard enough about ore-sled dispatching from Linda\n to be able to maintain the fiction should he question me further about\n it.\n\n\n Actually, I was a gymnast instructor. The subjects I taught included\n wrestling, judo and karati—talents I would prefer to disclose to him\n in my own fashion, when the time came.\n\n\n He was quiet for a moment. \"What about radiation level on the\n ore-sleds?\"\n\n\n I had no idea what he was talking about, and admitted as much.\n\n\n \"When they come back,\" he said. \"How much radiation do they pick up?\n Don't you people ever test them?\"\n\n\n \"Of course not,\" I told him. I was on secure ground now, with Linda's\n information to guide me. \"All radiation is cleared from the sleds and\n their cargo before they're brought into the building.\"\n\n\n \"I know that,\" he said impatiently. \"But don't you ever check them\n before de-radiating them?\"\n\"No. Why should we?\"\n\n\n \"To find out how far the radiation level outside has dropped.\"\n\n\n \"For what? Who cares about that?\"\n\n\n He frowned bitterly. \"The same answer,\" he muttered, more to himself\n than to me. \"The same answer every time. You people have crawled into\n your caves and you're ready to stay in them forever.\"\n\n\n I looked around at my apartment. \"Rather a well-appointed cave,\" I told\n him.\n\n\n \"But a cave nevertheless.\" He leaned toward me, his eyes gleaming with\n a fanatical flame. \"Don't you ever wish to get Outside?\"\n\n\n Incredible! I nearly poured boiling water all over myself. \"Outside? Of\n course not!\"\n\n\n \"The same thing,\" he grumbled, \"over and over again. Always the same\n stupidity. Listen, you! Do you realize how long it took man to get out\n of the caves? The long slow painful creep of progress, for millennia,\n before he ever made that first step from the cave?\"\n\n\n \"I have no idea,\" I told him.\n\n\n \"I'll tell you this,\" he said belligerently. \"A lot longer than it\n took for him to turn around and go right back into the cave again.\" He\n started pacing the floor, waving the gun around in an agitated fashion\n as he talked. \"Is this the\nnatural\nlife of man? It is not. Is this\n even a\ndesirable\nlife for man? It is\ndefinitely\nnot.\" He spun back\n to face me, pointing the gun at me again, but this time he pointed\n it as though it were a finger, not a gun. \"Listen, you,\" he snapped.\n \"Man was progressing. For all his stupidities and excesses, he was\n growing up. His dreams were getting bigger and grander and better all\n the time. He was planning to tackle\nspace\n! The moon first, and then\n the planets, and finally the stars. The whole universe was out there,\n waiting to be plucked like an apple from a tank. And Man was reaching\n out for it.\" He glared as though daring me to doubt it.\nI decided that this man was doubly dangerous. Not only was he a spy,\n he was also a lunatic. So I had two reasons for humoring him. I nodded\n politely.\n\n\n \"So what happened?\" he demanded, and immediately answered himself.\n \"I'll tell you what happened! Just as he was about to make that first\n giant step, Man got a hotfoot. That's all it was, just a little\n hotfoot. So what did Man do? I'll tell you what he did. He turned\n around and he ran all the way back to the cave he started from, his\n tail between his legs.\nThat's\nwhat he did!\"\n\n\n To say that all of this was incomprehensible would be an extreme\n understatement. I fulfilled my obligation to this insane dialogue by\n saying, \"Here's your coffee.\"\n\n\n \"Put it on the table,\" he said, switching instantly from raving maniac\n to watchful spy.\n\n\n I put it on the table. He drank deep, then carried the cup across the\n room and sat down in my favorite chair. He studied me narrowly, and\n suddenly said, \"What did they tell you I was? A spy?\"\n\n\n \"Of course,\" I said.\n\n\n He grinned bitterly, with one side of his mouth. \"Of course. The damn\n fools! Spy! What do you suppose I'm going to spy on?\"\n\n\n He asked the question so violently and urgently that I knew I had to\n answer quickly and well, or the maniac would return. \"I—I wouldn't\n know, exactly,\" I stammered. \"Military equipment, I suppose.\"\n\n\n \"Military equipment?\nWhat\nmilitary equipment? Your Army is supplied\n with uniforms, whistles and hand guns, and that's about it.\"\n\n\n \"The defenses—\" I started.\n\n\n \"The defenses,\" he interrupted me, \"are non-existent. If you mean the\n rocket launchers on the roof, they're rusted through with age. And what\n other defenses are there? None.\"\n\n\n \"If you say so,\" I replied stiffly. The Army claimed that we had\n adequate defense equipment. I chose to believe the Army over an enemy\n spy.\n\n\n \"Your people send out spies, too, don't they?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"Well, of course.\"\n\n\n \"And what are\nthey\nsupposed to spy on?\"\n\n\n \"Well—\" It was such a pointless question, it seemed silly to even\n answer it. \"They're supposed to look for indications of an attack by\n one of the other projects.\"\n\n\n \"And do they find any indications, ever?\"\n\n\n \"I'm sure I don't know,\" I told him frostily. \"That would be classified\n information.\"\n\n\n \"You bet it would,\" he said, with malicious glee. \"All right, if that's\n what\nyour\nspies are doing, and if\nI'm\na spy, then it follows that\n I'm doing the same thing, right?\"\n\n\n \"I don't follow you,\" I admitted.\n\n\n \"If I'm a spy,\" he said impatiently, \"then I'm supposed to look for\n indications of an attack by you people on my Project.\"\n\n\n I shrugged. \"If that's your job,\" I said, \"then that's your job.\"\n\n\n He got suddenly red-faced, and jumped to his feet. \"That's\nnot\nmy\n job, you blatant idiot!\" he shouted. \"I'm not a spy! If I\nwere\na spy,\nthen\nthat would be my job!\"\nThe maniac had returned, in full force. \"All right,\" I said hastily.\n \"All right, whatever you say.\"\n\n\n He glowered at me a moment longer, then shouted, \"Bah!\" and dropped\n back into the chair.\n\n\n He breathed rather heavily for a while, glaring at the floor, then\n looked at me again. \"All right, listen. What if I were to tell you that\n I\nhad\nfound indications that you people were planning to attack my\n Project?\"\n\n\n I stared at him. \"That's impossible!\" I cried. \"We aren't planning to\n attack anybody! We just want to be left in peace!\"\n\n\n \"How do I know that?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"It's the truth! What would we want to attack anybody for?\"\n\n\n \"Ah hah!\" He sat forward, tensed, pointing the gun at me like a finger\n again. \"Now, then,\" he said. \"If you know it doesn't make any sense for\n this Project to attack any other project, then why in the world should\n you think\nthey\nmight see some advantage in attacking\nyou\n?\"\n\n\n I shook my head, dumbfounded. \"I can't answer a question like that,\" I\n said. \"How do I know what they're thinking?\"\n\n\n \"They're human beings, aren't they?\" he cried. \"Like you? Like me? Like\n all the other people in this mausoleum?\"\n\n\n \"Now, wait a minute—\"\n\n\n \"No!\" he shouted. \"You wait a minute! I want to tell you something. You\n think I'm a spy. That blundering Army of yours thinks I'm a spy. That\n fathead who turned me in thinks I'm a spy. But I'm\nnot\na spy, and I'm\n going to tell you what I am.\"\n\n\n I waited, looking as attentive as possible.\n\n\n \"I come,\" he said, \"from a Project about eighty miles north of here.\n I came here by foot, without any sort of radiation shield at all to\n protect me.\"\n\n\n The maniac was back. I didn't say a word. I didn't want to set off the\n violence that was so obviously in this lunatic.\n\n\n \"The radiation level,\" he went on, \"is way down. It's practically as\n low as it was before the Atom War. I don't know how long it's been\n that low, but I would guess about ten years, at the very least.\" He\n leaned forward again, urgent and serious. \"The world is safe out there\n now. Man can come back out of the cave again. He can start building\n the dreams again. And this time he can build better, because he has\n the horrible example of the recent past to guide him away from the\n pitfalls. There's no need any longer for the Projects.\"\n\n\n And that was like saying there's no need any longer for stomachs, but I\n didn't say so. I didn't say anything at all.\n\n\n \"I'm a trained atomic engineer,\" he went on. \"In my project, I worked\n on the reactor. Theoretically, I believed that there was a chance the\n radiation Outside was lessening by now, though we had no idea exactly\n how much radiation had been released by the Atom War. But I wanted\n to test the theory, and the Commission wouldn't let me. They claimed\n public safety, but I knew better. If the Outside were safe and the\n Projects were no longer needed, then the Commission was out of a job,\n and they knew it.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did his girlfriend put such an emphasis on promptness?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_1", "options": ["She thought being late was rude", "She was a perfectionist", "She was conditioned by her work", "She was a controlling person"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did he want to ask his girlfriend?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_2", "options": ["To marry him forever", "If she loved him as much as he loved her", "To live with him forever", "To live with him for awhile"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "About how long did it take the elevator to travel one floor?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_3", "options": ["half a minute", "1 minute", "2 to 3 minutes", "less than a quarter of a minute"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why didn't he just take the express elevator when the local did not arrive?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_4", "options": ["It didn't occur to him", "No one had used the express in many years", "The express did not stop at the 153rd floor", "The express did not stop at the 167th floor"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why didn't he take the stairs immediately when the elevator did not arrive?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_5", "options": ["He had never been on the stairs before", "It didn't occur to him as an option", "He was not allowed to go on the stairs", "The door to the stairs was locked"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was he not able to call his girlfriend to say he would be late?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_6", "options": ["The phone system was down", "She refused to take his call", "Her phone was off the hook", "Her phone was busy"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who was in the elevator?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_7", "options": ["A spy", "An ore-sled dispatcher", "A soldier", "An engineer"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the man never leave his apartment building?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_8", "options": ["He is locked in", "There is no way down to ground level", "He is afraid of radiation", "He doesn't want to be caught as a spy"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many treaties were broken during the last war?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_9", "options": ["The treaty of Oslo plus many others", "Many of them", "All of them", "Only the treaty of Oslo"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did living under a state of siege affect the project inhabitants?", "question_unique_id": "51687_XND06EI3_10", "options": ["They rarely thought about it", "They thought about it daily", "They all had to actively help with vigilance", "They never thought about it"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/6/8/51687//51687-h//51687-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51027", "set_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Jaywalker", "year": 1950, "author": "Rocklynne, Ross", "topic": "Space flight to the moon -- Fiction; Short stories; Science fiction; Husband and wife -- Fiction; PS", "article": "JAYWALKER\nBY ROSS ROCKLYNNE\n\n\n Illustrated by DON DIBLEY\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction December 1950.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWomen may be against progress because it means new\n\n pseudo-widowhoods. Space-widowhood, for instance....\nAt last she was on the gangplank, entering the mouth of the\n spaceship—and nothing could ever stop her now. Not unless she broke\n down completely in front of all these hurrying, Moon-bound passengers,\n in plain sight of the scattered crowd which clustered on the other\n side of the space-field barriers. Even that possibility was denied her\n when two gently insistent middle-aged ladies indicated she was blocking\n the way....\nSomehow, dizzily, she was at her seat, led there by a smiling,\n brown-clad stewardess; and her azure-tipped fingers were clutching at\n the pearl-gray plasta-leather of the chair arm. Her eyes, the azure\n of her nails, the azure (so she had been told) of Earth seen from\n interplanetary space, grew hot. She closed them, and for a moment\n gave herself up to an almost physical yearning for the Toluca Lake\n house—the comfort, the safety, the—the\nsanity\nof it.\nStubbornly she forced herself back to reality. At any moment Jack,\n dark-eyed and scrappy, might come swinging down the long, shining\n aisle. Jack—Captain Jack McHenry, if you please—must not know, yet,\n what she was doing to patch up their marriage.\n\n\n She turned her face away from the aisle, covered her cheek with her\n hand to hide it. Her gaze went out through the ray-proof glass port to\n the field, to the laboring beetle of a red tractor bearing the gangway\n on its busy back, to the low, blast-proof administration building. When\n her gaze came to the tall sign over the entrance, she hurried it past;\n it was too late to think about that now, the square, shouting type that\n read:\nCAUTION\n\n HAVE YOU PASSED YOUR PHYSICAL EXAMINATION?\nAvoiding It May Cost Your Life!\n\"May I see your validation, please?\"\n\n\n Marcia McHenry stiffened. Had she read the sign aloud? She turned\n startled eyes up to the smiling stewardess, who was holding out a\n well-groomed hand. Marcia responded weakly to the smile, overcame a\n sudden urge to blurt out that she had no validation—not her own,\n anyway. But her stiff fingers were already holding out the pink card\n with Nellie Foster's name on it.\n\n\n \"You're feeling well, Mrs. Foster?\"\nFeeling well? Yes, of course. Except for the—usual sickness. But\n that's so very normal\n.... Her numb lips moved. \"I'm fine,\" she said.\n\n\n Miss Eagen (which, her neat lapel button attested, was her name) made\n a penciled frown as lovely as her machined smile. \"Some day,\" she told\n Marcia, \"we won't have to ask the passengers if they're well. It's so\n easy to come aboard on someone else's validation, and people don't seem\n to realize how dangerous that is.\"\n\n\n As Miss Eagen moved to the next seat, Marcia shrank into a small\n huddle, fumbling with the card until it was crammed shapeless into her\n purse. Then from the depths of her guilt came rebellion. It was going\n to be all right. She was doing the biggest thing she'd ever done, and\n Jack would rise to the occasion, and it would be all right.\n\n\n It\nhad\nto be all right....\n\n\n After this—if this didn't work—there just would be nothing else she\n could do. She wasn't a scheming woman. No one would ever know how\n difficult it had been for her to think up the whole plan, to find\n Nellie Foster (someone Jack had never met) and to persuade Nellie to\n register for the trip and take the physical for her. She'd had to lie\n to Nellie, to make Nellie think she was brave and adventurous, and that\n she was just doing it to surprise Jack.\n\n\n Oh, he'd be surprised, all right.\n\n\n The flash walls on the field were being raised to keep the blow-by from\n the ship's jets from searing the administration building and the area\n beyond. Marcia realized with crushing suddenness that the ship was\n about to blast off in seconds. She half-rose, then sank back, biting\n her lip. Silly ... Jack had said that—her fear of space was silly.\n He'd said it during the quarrel, and he'd roared at her, \"And that's\n why you want me to come back—ground myself, be an Earth-lubber—so I\n can spare you the anguish of sitting home wondering if I'll come back\n alive!\"\nAnd then he'd been sorry he'd shouted, and he sat by her, taking her\n chin in his hand. \"Marcia, Marcia,\" he'd said gently, \"you're so\nsilly\n! It's been nineteen whole years since your father died in the\n explosion of a Moon-rocket. Rocket motors just don't explode any more,\n honey! Ships travel to the Moon and back on iron-clad, mathematical\n orbits that are figured before the ship puffs a jet—\"\n\n\n \"The\nElsinore\n?\" She'd said it viciously, to taunt him, and something\n in her had been pleased at the dull flush that rose to his face.\n Everyone knew about the\nElsinore\n, the 500-foot Moon-ferry that almost\n missed the Moon.\n\n\n \"That,\" he said bitterly, \"was human damnfoolishness botching up the\n equations. Too many lobbyists have holdings on the Moon and don't\n want to risk not being able to go there in a hurry. So they haven't\n passed legislation to keep physically unfit people off spaceships.\n One of the passengers got aboard the\nElsinore\non somebody else's\n validation—which meant that nobody knew he was taking endocrine\n treatments to put hair on his brainless head and restore his—Oh, the\nJaywalker\n!\" Jack spat in disgust. \"Anyway, he was the kind of idiot\n who never realizes that certain glandular conditions are fatal in free\n fall.\"\n\n\n Even now she distinctly recalled the beginnings of the interplanetary\n cold that always seeped into the warm house when he talked about space,\n when he was about to leave her for it. And this time it was worse than\n ever before.\n\n\n He went on remorselessly, \"Once the\nElsinore\nreached the free-fall\n flight, where power could be shut off, the skipper had to put the\n ferry into an axial spin under power, creating artificial gravity\n to save the worthless life of that fool. So of course he lost his\n trajectory, and had to warp her in as best he could, without passing\n the Moon or crashing into it. And of course you're not listening.\"\n\n\n \"It's all so dull!\" she had flared, and then, \"How can I be interested\n in what some blundering space-jockey did?\"\n\n\n \"Blun—Marcia, you really don't realize what that skipper did was the\n finest piece of shiphandling since mankind got off the ground.\"\n\n\n \"Was it?\" she'd yawned. \"Could you do it?\"\n\n\n \"I—like to think I could,\" he said. \"I'd hate to have to try.\"\n\n\n She'd shrugged. \"Then it can't be very difficult, darling.\"\n\n\n She hadn't meant to be so cruel. Or so stupid. But when they were\n quarreling, or when he talked that repugnant, dedicated, other-world\n garble, something always went cold and furious and—lonely inside her,\n and made her fight back unfairly.\n\n\n After he'd gone—for good, he said—her anger had sustained her for a\n few weeks. Then, bleakly, she knew she'd go to the ends of Earth for\n Jack. Or even to the Moon....\nSitting rigid in the tense stillness of a rocket ship that was about\n to leap from Earth, Marcia started as an officer ducked his head into\n the passenger compartment from the pilot room's deep glow. But it\n wasn't Jack. The officer's lips moved hurriedly as he counted over the\n seats. He ducked back out of sight. From the bulk-heads, the overhead,\n everywhere, came a deep, quiet rumble. Some of the passengers looked\n anxious, some excited, and some just leafed casually through magazines.\n\n\n Now the brown-clad Miss Eagen was speaking from the head of the aisle.\n\n\n \"Those of you who haven't been in a rocket before won't find it much\n different from being in an airplane. At the same time—\" She paused,\n quiet brown eyes solemn. \"What you are about to experience is something\n that will make you proud to belong to the human race.\"\nThat\nagain! thought Marcia furiously; and then all emotion left her\n but cold, ravening fear as the rumble heightened. She tried to close\n her eyes, her ears against it, but her mind wouldn't respond. She\n squirmed in her chair and found herself staring down at the field.\n It looked the way she felt—flat and pale and devoid of life, with a\n monstrous structure of terror squatting in it. The scene was abruptly\n splashed with a rushing sheet of flame that darkened the daytime sky.\n Then it was torn from her vision.\n\n\n It was snatched away—the buildings, the trees, the roads surrounding\n the field seemed to pour in upon it, shrinking as they ran together.\n Roads dried up like parched rivers, thinning and vanishing into the\n circle of her horrified vision. A great, soft, uniform weight pressed\n her down and back; she fought it, but it was too big and too soft.\n\n\n Now Earth's surface was vague and Sun-splashed. Marcia's sense of loss\n tore at her. She put up her hands, heavily, and pressed the glass as\n if she could push it out, push herself out, go back, back to Earth\n and solidity. Clouds shot by like bullets, fell away until they were\n snowflakes roiling in violet haze. Then, in the purling universe that\n had grown around the ship, Earth was a mystic circle, a shallow dish\n floating darkly and heavily below.\n\n\n \"We are now,\" said Miss Eagen's calm voice, \"thirty-seven miles over\n Los Angeles.\"\n\n\n After that, there was scarcely room for thought—even for fear, though\n it lurked nearby, ready to leap. There was the ascent, the quiet,\n sleeplike ascent into space. Marcia very nearly forgot to breathe. She\n had been prepared for almost anything except this quality of peace and\n awe.\nShe didn't know how long she had been sitting there, awestruck,\n spellbound, when she realized that she had to finish the job she'd\n started, and do it right now, this minute. It might already be too\n late ... she wished, suddenly, and for the very first time, that she'd\n paid more attention to Jack's ramblings about orbits and turn-over\n points and correction blasts, and all that gobbledegook. She glanced\n outside again and the sky was no longer deep blue, but black. She\n pressed herself up out of the soft chair—it was difficult, because of\n the one-and-a-half gravities the ship was holding—and plodded heavily\n up the aisle. Miss Eagen was just rising from the chair in which she\n sat for the take-off.\n\n\n \"Miss Eagen—\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Mrs. Fos—why, what's the matter?\"\n\n\n Seeing the startled expression on the stewardess' face, Marcia realized\n she must be looking like a ghost. She put a hand to her cheek and found\n it clammy.\n\n\n \"Come along,\" said Miss Eagen cheerfully. She put a firm arm around\n Marcia's shoulder. \"Just a touch of space-sickness. This way.\nThat's\nit. We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy.\"\n\n\n \"It isn't s-space sickness,\" said Marcia in a very small and very\n positive voice. She let herself be led forward, through the door and to\n the left, where there was a small and compact ship's hospital.\n\n\n \"Now, now,\" said Miss Eagen briskly, \"just you lie down there, Mrs.\n Foster. Does it hurt any special place?\"\n\n\n Marcia lay down gratefully. She closed her eyes tightly and said, \"I'm\n not Mrs. Foster. It doesn't hurt.\"\n\n\n \"You're not—\" Miss Eagen apparently decided to take one thing at a\n time. \"How do you feel?\"\n\n\n \"Scared,\" said Marcia.\n\n\n \"Why, what—is there to be scared of?\"\n\n\n \"I'm pregnant.\"\n\n\n \"Well, that's no—You're\nwhat\n?\"\n\n\n \"I'm Mrs. McHenry. I'm Jack's wife.\"\n\n\n There was such a long pause that Marcia opened her eyes. Miss Eagen was\n looking at her levelly. She said, \"I'll have to examine you.\"\n\n\n \"I know. Go ahead.\"\n\n\n Miss Eagen did, swiftly and thoroughly. \"You're so right,\" she\n breathed. She went to the small sink, stripping off her rubber gloves.\n With her back to Marcia, she said, \"I'll have to tell the captain, you\n know.\"\n\n\n \"I know. I'd rather ... tell him myself.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" said Miss Eagen flatly. Marcia felt as if she'd been slapped.\n Miss Eagen dried her hands and crossed to an intercom. \"Eagen to\n Captain.\"\n\n\n \"McHenry here.\"\n\n\n \"Captain McHenry, could you come back to the hospital right away?\"\n\n\n \"Not right away, Sue.\"\nSue! No wonder he had found it so easy to walk\n out!\nShe looked at the trim girl with hating eyes. The intercom said,\n \"You know I've got course-correction computations from here to yonder.\n Give me another forty minutes.\"\n\n\n \"I think,\" said Sue Eagen into the mike, \"that the computations can\n wait.\"\n\n\n \"The hell you do!\" The red contact light on the intercom went out.\n\n\n \"He'll be right here,\" said Miss Eagen.\nMarcia sat up slowly, clumsily. Miss Eagen did not offer to help.\n Marcia's hands strayed to her hair, patted it futilely.\n\n\n He came in, moving fast and purposefully, as always. \"Sue, what in time\n do you think you—\nMarcia!\n\" His dark face broke into a delighted grin\n and he put his arms out. \"You—you're here—\nhere\n, on my ship!\"\n\n\n \"I'm pregnant, Jack,\" she said. She put out a hand to ward him off. She\n couldn't bear the thought of his realizing what she had done while he\n had his arms around her.\n\n\n \"You\nare\n? You—we—\" He turned to Miss Eagen, who nodded once, her\n face wooden. \"Just find it out?\"\n\n\n This time Miss Eagen didn't react at all, and Marcia knew that she had\n to speak up. \"No, Jack. I knew weeks ago.\"\n\n\n There was no describable change in his face, but the taut skin of his\n space-tanned cheek seemed, somehow, to draw inward. His eyebrow ridges\n seemed to be more prominent, and he looked older, and very tired.\n Softly and slowly he asked, \"What in God's name made you get on the\n ship?\"\n\n\n \"I had to, Jack. I had to.\"\n\n\n \"Had to kill yourself?\" he demanded brutally. \"This tears it. This ties\n it up in a box with a bloody ribbon-bow. I suppose you know what this\n means—what I've got to do now?\"\n\n\n \"Spin ship,\" she replied immediately, and looked up at him pertly, like\n a kindergarten child who knows she has the right answer.\n\n\n He groaned.\n\n\n \"You said you could do it.\"\n\n\n \"I can ... try,\" he said hollowly. \"But—why,\nwhy\n?\"\n\n\n \"Because,\" she said bleakly, \"I learned long ago that a man grows to\n love what he has to fight for.\"\n\n\n \"And you were going to make me fight for you and the child—even if the\n lives of a hundred and seventy people were involved?\"\n\n\n \"You said you could handle it. I thought you could.\"\n\n\n \"I'll try,\" he said wearily. \"Oh, I'll try.\" He went out, dragging his\n feet, his shoulders down, without looking at her.\n\n\n There was a stiff silence. Marcia looked up at Miss Eagen. \"It's true,\n you know,\" she said. \"A man grows to love the things he has to defend,\n no matter how he felt about them before.\"\n\n\n The stewardess looked at her, her face registering a strange mixture of\n detachment and wonder. \"You really believe that, don't you?\"\n\n\n Marcia's patience, snapped. \"You don't have to look so superior. I know\n what's bothering\nyou\n. Well, he's\nmy\nhusband, and don't you forget\n it.\"\nMiss Eagen's breath hissed in. Her eyes grew bright and she shook her\n head slightly. Then she turned on her heel and went to the intercom.\n Marcia thought for a frightened moment that she was going to call Jack\n back again. Instead she dialed and said, \"Hospital to Maintenance.\n Petrucelli?\"\n\n\n \"Petrucelli here.\"\n\n\n \"Come up with a crescent wrench, will you, Pet?\"\n\n\n Another stiff silence. A question curled into Marcia's mind and she\n asked it. \"Do you work on all these ships at one time or another?\"\n\n\n Miss Eagen did not beat around the bush. \"I've been with Captain\n McHenry for three years. I hope to work with him always. I think he's\n the finest in the Service.\"\n\n\n \"He—th-thinks as well of you, no doubt.\"\n\n\n Petrucelli lounged in, a big man, easy-going, powerful. \"What's busted,\n muscles?\"\n\n\n \"Bolt the bed to the bulkhead, Pet. Mrs. McHenry—I'm sorry, but you'll\n have to get up.\"\n\n\n Marcia bounced resentfully off the cot and stood aside. Petrucelli\n looked at her, cocked an eyebrow, looked at Miss Eagen, and asked,\n \"Jaywalker?\"\n\n\n \"Please hurry, Pet.\" She turned to Marcia. \"I've got to explain to the\n passengers that there won't be any free fall. Most of them are looking\n forward to it.\" She went out.\n\n\n Marcia watched the big man work for a moment. \"Why are you putting the\n bed on the wall?\"\n\n\n He looked at her and away, quickly. \"Because, lady, when we start to\n spin, that outside bulkhead is going to be\ndown\n. Centrifugal force,\n see?\" And before she could answer him he added, \"I can't talk and work\n at the same time.\"\n\n\n Feeling very much put-upon, Marcia waited silently until he was\n finished, and the bed hung ludicrously to the wall like a walking fly.\n She thanked him timidly, and he ignored it and went out.\n\n\n Miss Eagen returned.\n\n\n \"That man was very rude,\" said Marcia.\n\n\n Miss Eagen looked at her coolly. \"I'm sorry,\" she said, obviously not\n meaning sorry at all.\n\n\n Marcia wet her lips. \"I asked you a question before,\" she said evenly.\n \"About you and the captain.\"\n\n\n \"You did,\" said Sue Eagen. \"Please don't.\"\n\n\n \"And why not?\"\n\n\n \"Because,\" said Miss Eagen, and in that moment she looked almost as\n drawn as Jack had, \"I'm supposed to be of service to the passengers at\n all times no matter what. If I have feelings at all, part of my job is\n to keep them to myself.\"\n\n\n \"Very courteous, I'm sure. However, I want to release you from your\n sense of duty. I'm\nmost\ninterested in what you have to say.\"\n\n\n Miss Eagen's arched nostrils seemed pinched and white. \"You really want\n me to speak my piece?\"\nIn answer Marcia leaned back against the bulkhead and folded her arms.\n Miss Eagen gazed at her for a moment, nodded as if to herself, and\n said, \"I suppose there always will be people who don't pay attention\n to the rules. Jaywalkers. But out here jaywalkers don't have as much\n margin for error as they do crossing against a traffic light on Earth.\"\n She looked Marcia straight in the eye. \"What makes a jaywalker isn't\n ignorance. It's a combination of stupidity and stubbornness. The\n jaywalker does\nknow\nbetter. In your case....\"\n\n\n She sighed. \"It's well known—even by you—that the free-fall condition\n has a weird effect on certain people. The human body is in an\n unprecedented situation in free fall. Biologically it has experienced\n the condition for very short periods—falling out of trees, or on\n delayed parachute jumps. But it isn't constituted to take hour after\n hour of fall.\"\n\n\n \"What about floating in a pool for hours?\" asked Marcia sullenly.\n\n\n \"That's quite a different situation. 'Down' exists when you're\n swimming. Free-fall means that everything around you is 'up.' The\n body's reactions to free-fall go much deeper than space-nausea and a\n mild feeling of panic. When there's a glandular imbalance of certain\n kinds, the results can be drastic. Apparently some instinctual part\n of the mind reacts as if there were a violent emergency, when no\n emergency is recognized by the reasoning part of the mind. There\n are sudden floods of adrenalin; the 17-kesteroids begin spastic\n secretions; the—well, it varies in individuals. But it's pretty well\n established that the results can be fatal. It kills men with prostate\n trouble—sometimes. It kills women in menopause—often. It kills women\n in the early stages of pregnancy—\nalways\n.\"\n\n\n \"But how?\" asked Marcia, interested in spite of her resentment.\n\n\n \"Convulsions. A battle royal between a glandular-level panic and a\n violent and useless effort of the will to control the situation.\n Muscles tear, working against one another. Lungs rupture and air\n is forced into the blood-stream, causing embolism and death. Not\n everything is known about it, but I would guess that pregnant women are\n especially susceptible because their protective reflexes, through and\n through, are much more easily stimulated.\"\n\n\n \"And the only thing that can be done about it is to supply gravity?\"\n\n\n \"Or centrifugal force (or centripetal, depending on where you're\n standing, but why be technical?)—or, better yet, keep those people\n off the ships.\"\n\n\n \"So now Jack will spin the ship until I'm pressed against the walls\n with the same force as gravity, and then everything will be all right.\"\n\n\n \"You make it sound so simple.\"\n\n\n \"There's no need to be sarcastic!\" Marcia blurted. \"Jack can do it. You\n think he can, don't you? Don't you?\"\n\n\n \"He can do anything any space skipper has ever done, and more,\"\n said Sue Eagen, and her face glowed. \"But it isn't easy. Right this\n minute he's working over the computer—a small, simple, ship-board\n computer—working out orbital and positional and blast-intensity data\n that would be a hard nut for the giant calculators on Earth to crack.\n And he's doing it in half the time—or less—than it would take the\n average mathematician, because he has to; because it's a life-and-death\n matter if he makes a mistake or takes too long.\"\n\"But—but—\"\n\n\n \"But what?\" Miss Eagen's composure seemed to have been blasted to\n shreds by the powerful currents of her indignation. Her eyes flashed.\n \"You mean, but why doesn't he just work the ship while it's spinning\n the same way he does when it isn't?\"\n\n\n Through a growing fear, Marcia nodded mutely.\n\n\n \"He'll spin the ship on its long axis,\" said the stewardess with\n exaggerated patience. \"That means that the steering jet tubes in the\n nose and tail are spinning, too. You don't just turn with a blast on\n one tube or another. The blasts have to be let off in hundreds of short\n bursts, timed to the hundredth of a second, to be able to make even a\n slight course correction. The sighting instruments are wheeling round\n and round while you're checking your position. Your fuel has to be\n calculated to the last ounce—because enough fuel for a Moon flight,\n with hours of fuelless free-fall, and enough fuel for a power spin\n and course corrections while spinning, are two very different things.\n Captain McHenry won't be able to maneuver to a landing on the Moon.\n He'll do it exactly right the first time, or not at all.\"\n\n\n Marcia was white and still. \"I—I never—\"\n\n\n \"But I haven't told you the toughest part of it yet,\" Miss Eagen went\n on inexorably. \"A ship as massive as this, spinning on its long axis,\n is a pretty fair gyroscope. It doesn't want to turn. Any force that\n tries to make it turn is resisted at right angles to the force applied.\n When that force is applied momentarily from jets, as they swing into\n position and away again, the firing formulas get—well, complex. And\n the ship's course and landing approach are completely new. Instead\n of letting the ship fall to the Moon, turning over and approaching\n tail-first with the main jets as brakes, Captain McHenry is going to\n have to start the spin first and go almost the whole way nose-first.\n He'll come up on the Moon obliquely, pass it, stop the spin, turn over\n once to check the speed of the ship, and once again to put the tail\n down when the Moon's gravity begins to draw us in. There'll be two\n short periods of free-fall there, but they won't be long enough to\n bother you much. And if we can do all that with the fuel we've got, it\n will be a miracle. A miracle from the brain of Captain McHenry.\"\n\n\n Marcia forced herself away from the bulkhead with a small whimper of\n hurt and hatred—hatred of the stars, of this knowledgeable, inspired\n girl, and—even more so—of herself. She darted toward the door.\n\n\n Miss Eagen was beside her in an instant, a hard small hand on her arm.\n \"Where are you going?\"\n\n\n \"I'm going to stop him. He can't take that chance with his ship, with\n these people....\"\n\n\n \"He will and he must. You surely know your husband.\"\n\n\n \"I know him as well as you do.\"\nMiss Eagen's firm lips shut in a thin hard line. \"Do as you like,\" she\n whispered. \"And while you're doing it—think about whom he's spinning\n ship for.\" She took her hand from Marcia's arm.\n\n\n Marcia twisted away and went into the corridor.\n\n\n She found herself at the entrance to the pilot room. In one sweeping\n glance she saw a curved, silver board. Before it a man sat tranquilly.\n Nearer to her was Jack, hunched over the keyboard of a complex, compact\n machine, like a harried bookkeeper on the last day of the month.\n\n\n Her lips formed his name, but she was silent. She watched him, his\n square, competent hands, his detached and distant face. Through the\n forward view-plate she saw a harsh, jagged line, the very edge of the\n Moon's disc. Next to it, and below, was the rear viewer, holding the\n shimmering azure shape of Earth.\n\n\n \"\nAll Earth watches me when I work, but with your eyes.\n\"\n\n\n Jack had said that to her once, long ago, when he still loved her.\n\n\n \"... human damnfoolishness botching up the equations....\" He had said\n that once, too.\n\n\n Miss Eagen was standing by the hospital door, watching her. When Marcia\n turned away without speaking to Jack, Miss Eagen smiled and held out\n her hand.\n\n\n Marcia went to her and took the hand. They went into the hospital. Miss\n Eagen didn't speak; she seemed to be waiting.\n\n\n \"Yes, I know who Jack's spinning the ship for,\" said Marcia.\n\n\n Miss Eagen looked an unspoken question.\n\n\n Marcia said, painfully, \"He's like the Captain of the\nElsinore\n. He's\n risking his life for a—a stranger. A jaywalker. Not for me. Not even\n for his baby.\"\n\n\n \"Does it hurt to know that?\"\n\n\n Marcia looked into the smooth, strong face and said with genuine\n astonishment, \"Hurt? Oh, no! It's so—so big!\"\n\n\n There was a sudden thunder. Over Miss Eagen's shoulder, through the\n port, Marcia saw the stars begin to move. Miss Eagen followed her gaze.\n \"He's started the spin. You'll be all right now.\"\nMarcia could never recall the rest of the details of the trip. There\n was the outboard bulkhead that drew her like a magnet, increasingly,\n until suddenly it wasn't an attracting wall, but normally and naturally\n \"down.\" Then a needle, and another one, and a long period of deep\n drowsiness and unreality.\n\n\n But through and through that drugged, relaxed period, Jack and the\n stars, the Moon and Sue Eagen danced and wove. Words slipped in and out\n of it like shreds of melody:\n\n\n \"A man comes to love the things he has to fight for.\" And Jack\n fighting—for his ship, for the Moon, for the new-building traditions\n of the great ones who would carry humanity out to the stars.\n\n\n Sue Eagen was there, too, and the thing she shared with Jack. Of course\n there was something between them—so big a thing that there was\n nothing for her to fear in it.\n\n\n Jack and Sue Eagen had always had it, and always would have; and now\n Marcia had it too. And with understanding replacing fear, Marcia was\n free to recall that Jack had worked with Sue Eagen—but it was Marcia\n that he had loved and married.\nThere was a long time of blackness, and then a time of agony, when\n she was falling, falling, and her lungs wanted to split, explode,\n disintegrate, and someone kept saying, \"Hold tight, Marcia; hold tight\n to me,\" and she found Sue Eagen's cool strong hands in hers.\nMarcia. She called me Marcia.\nMore blackness, more pain—but not so much this time; and then a long,\n deep sleep.\n\n\n A curved ceiling, but a new curve, and soft rose instead of the\n gunmetal-and-chrome of the ship. White sheets, a new feeling of \"down\"\n that was unlike either Earth or the ship, a novel and exhilarating\n buoyancy. And kneeling by the bed—\n\n\n \"Jack!\"\n\n\n \"You're all right, honey.\"\n\n\n She raised herself on her elbow and looked out through the unglazed\n window at the ordered streets of the great Luna Dome. \"The Moon....\n Jack, you did it!\"\n\n\n He snapped his fingers. He looked like a high-school kid. \"Nothin' to\n it.\" She could see he was very proud. Very tired, too. He reached out\n to touch her.\n\n\n She drew back. \"You don't have to be sweet to me,\" she said quietly. \"I\n understand how you must feel.\"\n\n\n \"Don't\nhave\nto?\" He rose, bent over her, and slid his arms around\n her. He put his face into the shadowed warmth between her hair and her\n neck and said, \"Listen, egghead, there's no absolute scale for courage.\n We had a bad time, both of us. After it was over, and I had a chance\n to think, I used it trying to look at things through your eyes. And\n that way I found out that when you walked up that gangway, you did the\n bravest thing I've ever known anyone to do. And you did it for me. It\n doesn't matter what else happened. Sue told me a lot about you that I\n didn't know, darling. You're ... real huge for your size. As for the\n bad part of what happened—nothing like it can ever happen again, can\n it?\"\n\n\n He hugged her. After a time he reached down and touched her swelling\n waist. It was like a benediction. \"He'll be born on the Moon,\" he\n whispered, \"and he'll have eyes the color of all Earth when it looks\n out to the stars.\"\n\n\n \"\nShe'll\nbe born on the Moon,\" corrected Marcia, \"and her name will be\n Sue, and ... and she'll be almost as good as her father.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does \"jaywalker\" refer to in this story?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_1", "options": ["A person who does an illegal spacewalk", "A person who illegally gains passage into space", "A person who crosses the street illegally", "A person who illegally lives on the moon"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the woman have Nellie take a physical in her place?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_2", "options": ["She was expecting a baby", "She was a scheming woman", "She was brave and adventurous", "She was wanting to surprise her husband"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the woman's plan in going into space?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_3", "options": ["To have her baby on the moon", "To spy on her husband without him knowing", "To kill herself", "For her husband to fall back in love with her"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was the woman afraid to get on the spaceship and take off?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_4", "options": ["She was feeling sick", "She didn't know anyone who had been to space", "She thought her husband would be mad", "Her dad had died in a rocket launch"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the woman not like the flight attendant?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_5", "options": ["The attendant was emotionless", "She thought her husband loved the attendant", "The attendant found out her true identity", "The attendant forced her to take a medical exam"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What made the woman want to fight with her husband?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_6", "options": ["She resented that he wanted to leave her and go to space", "She thought he was having an affair with a flight attendant", "She thought he didn't care about their baby", "She thought he was not very skilled at his work"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "For humans, what is the most dangerous part of the trip to the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_7", "options": ["Freefall", "Take off", "Landing", "Orbit"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Jack say his wife watches him all the time when he is in space?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_8", "options": ["She is suspicious of his relationship with the flight attendant", "She questions his skills, decisions, and abilities", "She nags him not to leave and to return quickly", "The Earth in the sky is the same color as her eyes"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the woman wish she had listened more carefully to her husband talking about his job?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_9", "options": ["So he would not be attracted to the flight attendant", "So he wouldn't fight with her", "So she would know exactly when to enact her plan", "So he would feel like he was important to her"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was the woman afraid to be pregnant?", "question_unique_id": "51027_8PULD7D5_10", "options": ["Her husband had left her", "Pregnant women always die during the trip to the moon", "She didn't want to be a mother", "Pregnant women sometimes die during the trip to the moon"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/0/2/51027//51027-h//51027-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51267", "set_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "End as a Hero", "year": 1966, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "War stories; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Parapsychology -- Fiction; Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction", "article": "END AS A HERO\nBy KEITH LAUMER\n\n\n Illustrated by SCHELLING\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction June 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nGranthan's mission was the most vital of the war.\n\n It would mean instant victory—but for whom?\nI\n\n\n In the dream I was swimming in a river of white fire and the dream went\n on and on. And then I was awake—and the fire was still there, fiercely\n burning at me.\n\n\n I tried to move to get away from the flames, and then the real pain\n hit me. I tried to go back to sleep and the relative comfort of the\n river of fire, but it was no go. For better or worse, I was alive and\n conscious.\n\n\n I opened my eyes and took a look around. I was on the floor next to\n an unpadded acceleration couch—the kind the Terrestrial Space Arm\n installs in seldom-used lifeboats. There were three more couches, but\n no one in them. I tried to sit up. It wasn't easy but, by applying a\n lot more will-power than should be required of a sick man, I made it.\n I took a look at my left arm. Baked. The hand was only medium rare,\n but the forearm was black, with deep red showing at the bottom of the\n cracks where the crisped upper layers had burst....\n\n\n There was a first-aid cabinet across the compartment from me. I\n tried my right leg, felt broken bone-ends grate with a sensation\n that transcended pain. I heaved with the other leg, scrabbled with\n the charred arm. The crawl to the cabinet dwarfed Hillary's trek\n up Everest, but I reached it after a couple of years, and found the\n microswitch on the floor that activated the thing, and then I was\n fading out again....\nI came out of it clear-headed but weak. My right leg was numb, but\n reasonably comfortable, clamped tight in a walking brace. I put up\n a hand and felt a shaved skull, with sutures. It must have been a\n fracture. The left arm—well, it was still there, wrapped to the\n shoulder and held out stiffly by a power truss that would keep the scar\n tissue from pulling up and crippling me. The steady pressure as the\n truss contracted wasn't anything to do a sense-tape on for replaying at\n leisure moments, but at least the cabinet hadn't amputated. I wasn't\n complaining.\n\n\n As far as I knew, I was the first recorded survivor of contact with the\n Gool—if I survived.\n\n\n I was still a long way from home, and I hadn't yet checked on the\n condition of the lifeboat. I glanced toward the entry port. It was\n dogged shut. I could see black marks where my burned hand had been at\n work.\n\n\n I fumbled my way into a couch and tried to think. In my condition—with\n a broken leg and third-degree burns, plus a fractured skull—I\n shouldn't have been able to fall out of bed, much less make the trip\n from\nBelshazzar's\nCCC to the boat; and how had I managed to dog that\n port shut? In an emergency a man was capable of great exertions. But\n running on a broken femur, handling heavy levers with charred fingers\n and thinking with a cracked head were overdoing it. Still, I was\n here—and it was time to get a call through to TSA headquarters.\n\n\n I flipped the switch and gave the emergency call-letters Col. Ausar\n Kayle of Aerospace Intelligence had assigned to me a few weeks before.\n It was almost five minutes before the \"acknowledge\" came through from\n the Ganymede relay station, another ten minutes before Kayle's face\n swam into view. Even through the blur of the screen I could see the\n haggard look.\n\n\n \"Granthan!\" he burst out. \"Where are the others? What happened out\n there?\" I turned him down to a mutter.\n\n\n \"Hold on,\" I said. \"I'll tell you. Recorders going?\" I didn't wait for\n an answer—not with a fifteen-minute transmission lag. I plowed on:\n\n\n \"\nBelshazzar\nwas sabotaged. So was\nGilgamesh\n—I think. I got out. I\n lost a little skin, but the aid cabinet has the case in hand. Tell the\n Med people the drinks are on me.\"\n\n\n I finished talking and flopped back, waiting for Kayle's reply. On the\n screen, his flickering image gazed back impatiently, looking as hostile\n as a swing-shift ward nurse. It would be half an hour before I would\n get his reaction to my report. I dozed off—and awoke with a start.\n Kayle was talking.\n\n\n \"—your report. I won't mince words. They're wondering at your role in\n the disaster. How does it happen that you alone survived?\"\n\n\n \"How the hell do I know?\" I yelled—or croaked. But Kayle's voice was\n droning on:\n\n\n \"... you Psychodynamics people have been telling me the Gool may\n have some kind of long-range telehypnotic ability that might make it\n possible for them to subvert a loyal man without his knowledge. You've\n told me yourself that you blacked out during the attack—and came to on\n the lifeboat, with no recollection of how you got there.\n\n\n \"This is war, Granthan. War against a vicious enemy who strike without\n warning and without mercy. You were sent out to investigate the\n possibility of—what's that term you use?—hyper-cortical invasion. You\n know better than most the risk I'd be running if you were allowed to\n pass the patrol line.\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Granthan. I can't let you land on Earth. I can't accept\n the risk.\"\n\n\n \"What do I do now?\" I stormed. \"Go into orbit and eat pills and hope\n you think of something? I need a doctor!\"\n\n\n Presently Kayle replied. \"Yes,\" he said. \"You'll have to enter a\n parking orbit. Perhaps there will be developments soon which will make\n it possible to ... ah ... restudy the situation.\" He didn't meet my\n eye. I knew what he was thinking. He'd spare me the mental anguish of\n knowing what was coming. I couldn't really blame him; he was doing\n what he thought was the right thing. And I'd have to go along and\n pretend—right up until the warheads struck—that I didn't know I'd\n been condemned to death.\nII\n\n\n I tried to gather my wits and think my way through the situation. I\n was alone and injured, aboard a lifeboat that would be the focus of a\n converging flight of missiles as soon as I approached within battery\n range of Earth. I had gotten clear of the Gool, but I wouldn't survive\n my next meeting with my own kind. They couldn't take the chance that I\n was acting under Gool orders.\n\n\n I wasn't, of course. I was still the same Peter Granthan,\n psychodynamicist, who had started out with Dayan's fleet six weeks\n earlier. The thoughts I was having weren't brilliant, but they were\n mine, all mine....\n\n\n But how could I be sure of that?\n\n\n Maybe there was something in Kayle's suspicion. If the Gool were as\n skillful as we thought, they would have left no overt indications of\n their tampering—not at a conscious level.\n\n\n But this was where psychodynamics training came in. I had been reacting\n like any scared casualty, aching to get home and lick his wounds. But I\n wasn't just any casualty. I had been trained in the subtleties of the\n mind—and I had been prepared for just such an attack.\n\n\n Now was the time to make use of that training. It had given me one\n resource. I could unlock the memories of my subconscious—and see again\n what had happened.\n\n\n I lay back, cleared my mind of extraneous thoughts, and concentrated on\n the trigger word that would key an auto-hypnotic sequence....\n\n\n Sense impressions faded. I was alone in the nebulous emptiness of a\n first-level trance. I keyed a second word, slipped below the misty\n surface into a dreamworld of vague phantasmagoric figures milling in\n their limbo of sub-conceptualization. I penetrated deeper, broke\n through into the vividly hallucinatory third level, where images of\n mirror-bright immediacy clamored for attention. And deeper....\nThe immense orderly confusion of the basic memory level lay before\n me. Abstracted from it, aloof and observant, the monitoring\n personality-fraction scanned the pattern, searching the polydimensional\n continuum for evidence of an alien intrusion.\n\n\n And found it.\n\n\n As the eye instantaneously detects a flicker of motion amid an infinity\n of static detail, so my inner eye perceived the subtle traces of the\n probing Gool mind, like a whispered touch deftly rearranging my buried\n motivations.\n\n\n I focused selectively, tuned to the recorded gestalt.\n\n\n \"\nIt is a contact, Effulgent One!\n\"\n\n\n \"\nSoftly, now! Nurture the spark well. It but trembles at the\n threshold....\n\"\n\n\n \"\nIt is elusive, Master! It wriggles like a gorm-worm in the eating\n trough!\n\"\n\n\n A part of my mind watched as the memory unreeled. I listened to the\n voices—yet not voices, merely the shape of concepts, indescribably\n intricate. I saw how the decoy pseudo-personality which I had\n concretized for the purpose in a hundred training sessions had fought\n against the intruding stimuli—then yielded under the relentless thrust\n of the alien probe. I watched as the Gool operator took over the motor\n centers, caused me to crawl through the choking smoke of the devastated\n control compartment toward the escape hatch. Fire leaped up, blocking\n the way. I went on, felt ghostly flames whipping at me—and then the\n hatch was open and I pulled myself through, forcing the broken leg.\n My blackened hand fumbled at the locking wheel. Then the blast as\n the lifeboat leaped clear of the disintegrating dreadnought—and the\n world-ending impact as I fell.\n\n\n At a level far below the conscious, the embattled pseudo-personality\n lashed out again—fighting the invader.\n\n\n \"\nAlmost it eluded me then, Effulgent Lord. Link with this lowly one!\n\"\n\n\n \"\nImpossible! Do you forget all my teachings? Cling, though you expend\n the last filament of your life-force!\n\"\n\n\n Free from all distraction, at a level where comprehension and retention\n are instantaneous and total, my monitoring basic personality fraction\n followed the skillful Gool mind as it engraved its commands deep in\n my subconscious. Then the touch withdrew, erasing the scars of its\n passage, to leave me unaware of its tampering—at a conscious level.\n\n\n Watching the Gool mind, I learned.\n\n\n The insinuating probe—a concept regarding which psychodynamicists had\n theorized—was no more than a pattern in emptiness....\n\n\n But a pattern which I could duplicate, now that I had seen what had\n been done to me.\n\n\n Hesitantly, I felt for the immaterial fabric of the continuum, warping\n and manipulating it, copying the Gool probe. Like planes of paper-thin\n crystal, the polyfinite aspects of reality shifted into focus, aligning\n themselves.\n\n\n Abruptly, a channel lay open. As easily as I would stretch out my hand\n to pluck a moth from a night-flower, I reached across the unimaginable\n void—and sensed a pit blacker than the bottom floor of hell, and a\n glistening dark shape.\n\n\n There was a soundless shriek. \"\nEffulgence! It reached out—touched\n me!\n\"\nUsing the technique I had grasped from the Gool itself, I struck,\n stifling the outcry, invaded the fetid blackness and grappled the\n obscene gelatinous immensity of the Gool spy as it spasmed in a frenzy\n of xenophobia—a ton of liver writhing at the bottom of a dark well.\n\n\n I clamped down control. The Gool mind folded in on itself, gibbering.\n Not pausing to rest, I followed up, probed along my channel of contact,\n tracing patterns, scanning the flaccid Gool mind....\n\n\n I saw a world of yellow seas lapping at endless shores of mud. There\n was a fuming pit, where liquid sulphur bubbled up from some inner\n source, filling an immense natural basin. The Gool clustered at its\n rim, feeding, each monstrous shape heaving against its neighbors for a\n more favorable position.\nI probed farther, saw the great cables of living nervous tissue that\n linked each eating organ with the brain-mass far underground. I traced\n the passages through which tendrils ran out to immense caverns where\n smaller creatures labored over strange devices. These, my host's memory\n told me, were the young of the Gool. Here they built the fleets that\n would transport the spawn to the new worlds the Prime Overlord had\n discovered, worlds where food was free for the taking. Not sulphur\n alone, but potassium, calcium, iron and all the metals—riches\n beyond belief in endless profusion. No longer would the Gool tribe\n cluster—those who remained of a once-great race—at a single feeding\n trough. They would spread out across a galaxy—and beyond.\n\n\n But not if I could help it.\n\n\n The Gool had evolved a plan—but they'd had a stroke of bad luck.\n\n\n In the past, they had managed to control a man here and there, among\n the fleets, far from home, but only at a superficial level. Enough,\n perhaps, to wreck a ship, but not the complete control needed to send a\n man back to Earth under Gool compulsion, to carry out complex sabotage.\n\n\n Then they had found me, alone, a sole survivor, free from the clutter\n of the other mind-fields. It had been their misfortune to pick a\n psychodynamicist. Instead of gaining a patient slave, they had opened\n the fortress door to an unseen spy. Now that I was there, I would see\n what I could steal.\n\n\n A timeless time passed. I wandered among patterns of white light and\n white sound, plumbed the deepest recesses of hidden Gool thoughts,\n fared along strange ways examining the shapes and colors of the\n concepts of an alien mind.\n\n\n I paused at last, scanning a multi-ordinal structure of pattern within\n pattern; the diagrammed circuits of a strange machine.\n\n\n I followed through its logic-sequence; and, like a bomb-burst, its\n meaning exploded in my mind.\n\n\n From the vile nest deep under the dark surface of the Gool world in\n its lonely trans-Plutonian orbit, I had plucked the ultimate secret of\n their kind.\n\n\n Matter across space.\n\"You've got to listen to me, Kayle,\" I shouted. \"I know you think I'm\n a Gool robot. But what I have is too big to let you blow it up without\n a fight. Matter transmission! You know what that can mean to us. The\n concept is too complex to try to describe in words. You'll have to take\n my word for it. I can build it, though, using standard components, plus\n an infinite-area antenna and a moebius-wound coil—and a few other\n things....\"\n\n\n I harangued Kayle for a while, and then sweated out his answer. I was\n getting close now. If he couldn't see the beauty of my proposal, my\n screens would start to register the radiation of warheads any time now.\n\n\n Kayle came back—and his answer boiled down to \"no.\"\n\n\n I tried to reason with him. I reminded him how I had readied myself\n for the trip with sessions on the encephaloscope, setting up the\n cross-networks of conditioned defensive responses, the shunt circuits\n to the decoy pseudo-personality, leaving my volitional ego free. I\n talked about subliminal hypnotics and the resilience quotient of the\n ego-complex.\n\n\n I might have saved my breath.\n\n\n \"I don't understand that psychodynamics jargon, Granthan,\" he snapped.\n \"It smacks of mysticism. But I understand what the Gool have done to\n you well enough. I'm sorry.\"\n\n\n I leaned back and chewed the inside of my lip and thought unkind\n thoughts about Colonel Ausar Kayle. Then I settled down to solve the\n problem at hand.\n\n\n I keyed the chart file, flashed pages from the standard index on the\n reference screen, checking radar coverages, beacon ranges, monitor\n stations, controller fields. It looked as though a radar-negative boat\n the size of mine might possibly get through the defensive net with a\n daring pilot, and as a condemned spy, I could afford to be daring.\n\n\n And I had a few ideas.\nIII\n\n\n The shrilling of the proximity alarm blasted through the silence. For a\n wild moment I thought Kayle had beaten me to the punch; then I realized\n it was the routine DEW line patrol contact.\n\n\n \"Z four-oh-two, I am reading your IFF. Decelerate at 1.8 gee\n preparatory to picking up approach orbit....\"\n\n\n The screen went on droning out instructions. I fed them into the\n autopilot, at the same time running over my approach plan. The scout\n was moving in closer. I licked dry lips. It was time to try.\n\n\n I closed my eyes, reached out—as the Gool mind had reached out to\n me—and felt the touch of a Signals Officer's mind, forty thousand\n miles distant, aboard the patrol vessel. There was a brief flurry of\n struggle; then I dictated my instructions. The Signals Officer punched\n keys, spoke into his microphone:\n\n\n \"As you were, Z four-oh-two. Continue on present course. At Oh-nineteen\n seconds, pick up planetary for re-entry and let-down.\"\n\n\n I blanked out the man's recollection of what had happened, caught his\n belated puzzlement as I broke contact. But I was clear of the DEW line\n now, rapidly approaching atmosphere.\n\n\n \"Z four-oh-two,\" the speaker crackled. \"This is planetary control. I am\n picking you up on channel forty-three, for re-entry and let-down.\"\n\n\n There was a long pause. Then:\n\n\n \"Z four-oh-two, countermand DEW Line clearance! Repeat, clearance\n countermanded! Emergency course change to standard hyperbolic code\n ninety-eight. Do not attempt re-entry. Repeat: do not attempt re-entry!\"\n\n\n It hadn't taken Kayle long to see that I'd gotten past the outer line\n of defense. A few more minutes' grace would have helped. I'd play it\n dumb, and hope for a little luck.\n\n\n \"Planetary, Z four-oh-two here. Say, I'm afraid I missed part of that,\n fellows. I'm a little banged up—I guess I switched frequencies on you.\n What was that after 'pick up channel forty-three'...?\"\n\n\n \"Four-oh-two, sheer off there! You're not cleared for re-entry!\"\n\n\n \"Hey, you birds are mixed up,\" I protested. \"I'm cleared all the way. I\n checked in with DEW—\"\n\n\n It was time to disappear. I blanked off all transmission, hit the\n controls, following my evasive pattern. And again I reached out—\n\n\n A radar man at a site in the Pacific, fifteen thousand miles away, rose\n from his chair, crossed the darkened room and threw a switch. The radar\n screens blanked off....\n\n\n For an hour I rode the long orbit down, fending off attack after\n attack. Then I was clear, skimming the surface of the ocean a few miles\n southeast of Key West. The boat hit hard. I felt the floor rise up,\n over, buffeting me against the restraining harness.\n\n\n I hauled at the release lever, felt a long moment of giddy\n disorientation as the escape capsule separated from the sinking\n lifeboat deep under the surface. Then my escape capsule was bobbing on\n the water.\n\n\n I would have to risk calling Kayle now—but by voluntarily giving my\n position away, I should convince him I was still on our side—and I was\n badly in need of a pick-up. I flipped the sending key.\n\n\n \"This is Z four-oh-two,\" I said. \"I have an urgent report for Colonel\n Kayle of Aerospace Intelligence.\"\n\n\n Kayle's face appeared. \"Don't fight it, Granthan,\" he croaked. \"You\n penetrated the planetary defenses—God knows how. I—\"\n\n\n \"Later,\" I snapped. \"How about calling off your dogs now? And send\n somebody out here to pick me up, before I add sea-sickness to my other\n complaints.\"\n\n\n \"We have you pinpointed,\" Kayle cut in. \"It's no use fighting it,\n Granthan.\"\nI felt cold sweat pop out on my forehead. \"You've got to listen,\n Kayle,\" I shouted. \"I suppose you've got missiles on the way already.\n Call them back! I have information that can win the war—\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Granthan,\" Kayle said. \"It's too late—even if I could\n take the chance you were right.\"\n\n\n A different face appeared on the screen.\n\n\n \"Mr. Granthan, I am General Titus. On behalf of your country, and\n in the name of the President—who has been apprised of this tragic\n situation—it is my privilege to inform you that you will be awarded\n the Congressional Medal of Honor—posthumously—for your heroic effort.\n Although you failed, and have in fact been forced, against your will,\n to carry out the schemes of the inhuman enemy, this in no way detracts\n from your gallant attempt. Mr. Granthan, I salute you.\"\n\n\n The general's arm went up in a rigid gesture.\n\n\n \"Stow that, you pompous idiot!\" I barked. \"I'm no spy!\"\n\n\n Kayle was back, blanking out the startled face of the general.\n\n\n \"Goodbye, Granthan. Try to understand....\"\n\n\n I flipped the switch, sat gripping the couch, my stomach rising with\n each heave of the floating escape capsule. I had perhaps five minutes.\n The missiles would be from Canaveral.\n\n\n I closed my eyes, forced myself to relax, reached out....\n\n\n I sensed the distant shore, the hot buzz of human minds at work in the\n cities. I followed the coastline, found the Missile Base, flicked\n through the cluster of minds.\n\n\n \"—\nmissile on course; do right, baby. That's it, right in the slot.\n\"\n\n\n I fingered my way through the man's mind and found the control centers.\n He turned stiffly from the plotting board, tottered to a panel to slam\n his hand against the destruct button.\n\n\n Men fell on him, dragged him back. \"—\nfool, why did you blow it?\n\"\n\n\n I dropped the contact, found another, who leaped to the panel,\n detonated the remainder of the flight of six missiles. Then I withdrew.\n I would have a few minutes' stay of execution now.\n\n\n I was ten miles from shore. The capsule had its own power plant. I\n started it up, switched on the external viewer. I saw dark sea, the\n glint of star-light on the choppy surface, in the distance a glow on\n the horizon that would be Key West. I plugged the course into the\n pilot, then leaned back and felt outward with my mind for the next\n attacker.\nIV\n\n\n It was dark in the trainyard. I moved along the tracks in a stumbling\n walk. Just a few more minutes, I was telling myself.\nA few more\n minutes and you can lie down ... rest....\nThe shadowed bulk of a box car loomed up, its open door a blacker\n square. I leaned against the sill, breathing hard, then reached inside\n for a grip with my good hand.\n\n\n Gravel scrunched nearby. The beam of a flashlight lanced out, slipped\n along the weathered car, caught me. There was a startled exclamation.\n I ducked back, closed my eyes, felt out for his mind. There was a\n confused murmur of thought, a random intrusion of impressions from the\n city all around. It was hard, too hard. I had to sleep—\n\n\n I heard the snick of a revolver being cocked, and dropped flat as a\n gout of flame stabbed toward me, the imperative Bam! echoing between\n the cars. I caught the clear thought:\n\n\n \"God-awful looking, shaved head, arm stuck out; him all right—\"\n\n\n I reached out to his mind and struck at random. The light fell, went\n out, and I heard the unconscious body slam to the ground like a poled\n steer.\n\n\n It was easy—if I could only stay awake.\n\n\n I gritted my teeth, pulled myself into the car, crawled to a dark\n corner behind a crate and slumped down. I tried to evoke a personality\n fraction to set as a guard, a part of my mind to stay awake and warn\n me of danger. It was too much trouble. I relaxed and let it all slide\n down into darkness.\nThe car swayed, click-clack, click-clack. I opened my eyes, saw yellow\n sunlight in a bar across the litter on the floor. The power truss\n creaked, pulling at my arm. My broken leg was throbbing its indignation\n at the treatment it had received—walking brace and all—and the burned\n arm was yelling aloud for more of that nice dope that had been keeping\n it from realizing how bad it was. All things considered, I felt like a\n badly embalmed mummy—except that I was hungry. I had been a fool not\n to fill my pockets when I left the escape capsule in the shallows off\n Key Largo, but things had been happening too fast.\n\n\n I had barely made it to the fishing boat, whose owner I had coerced\n into rendezvousing with me before shells started dropping around us. If\n the gunners on the cruiser ten miles away had had any luck, they would\n have finished me—and the hapless fisherman—right then. We rode out a\n couple of near misses, before I put the cruiser's gunnery crew off the\n air.\n\n\n At a fishing camp on the beach, I found a car—with driver. He dropped\n me at the railyard, and drove off under the impression he was in town\n for groceries. He'd never believe he'd seen me.\n\n\n Now I'd had my sleep. I had to start getting ready for the next act of\n the farce.\n\n\n I pressed the release on the power truss, gingerly unclamped it, then\n rigged a sling from a strip of shirt tail. I tied the arm to my side as\n inconspicuously as possible. I didn't disturb the bandages.\n\n\n I needed new clothes—or at least different ones—and something to\n cover my shaved skull. I couldn't stay hidden forever. The yard cop had\n recognized me at a glance.\n\n\n I lay back, waiting for the train to slow for a town. I wasn't unduly\n worried—at the moment. The watchman probably hadn't convinced anyone\n he'd actually seen me. Maybe he hadn't been too sure himself.\n\n\n The click-clack slowed and the train shuddered to a stop. I crept to\n the door, peered through the crack. There were sunny fields, a few low\n buildings in the distance, the corner of a platform. I closed my eyes\n and let my awareness stretch out.\n\n\n \"—\nlousy job. What's the use? Little witch in the lunch room ... up in\n the hills, squirrel hunting, bottle of whiskey....\n\"\n\n\n I settled into control gently, trying not to alarm the man. I saw\n through his eyes the dusty box car, the rust on the tracks, the\n listless weeds growing among cinders, and the weathered boards of\n the platform. I turned him, and saw the dingy glass of the telegraph\n window, a sagging screen door with a chipped enameled cola sign.\n\n\n I walked the man to the door, and through it. Behind a linoleum-topped\n counter, a coarse-skinned teen-age girl with heavy breasts and wet\n patches under her arms looked up without interest as the door banged.\n\n\n My host went on to the counter, gestured toward the waxed-paper-wrapped\n sandwiches under a glass cover. \"I'll take 'em all. And candy bars, and\n cigarettes. And give me a big glass of water.\"\n\n\n \"Better git out there and look after yer train,\" the girl said\n carelessly. \"When'd you git so all-fired hungry all of a sudden?\"\n\n\n \"Put it in a bag. Quick.\"\n\n\n \"Look who's getting bossy—\"\n\n\n My host rounded the counter, picked up a used paper bag, began stuffing\n food in it. The girl stared at him, then pushed him back. \"You git back\n around that counter!\"\n\n\n She filled the bag, took a pencil from behind her ear.\n\n\n \"That'll be one eighty-five. Cash.\"\n\n\n My host took two dog-eared bills from his shirt pocket, dropped them\n on the counter and waited while the girl filled a glass. He picked it\n up and started out.\n\n\n \"Hey! Where you goin' with my glass?\"\n\n\n The trainman crossed the platform, headed for the boxcar. He slid the\n loose door back a few inches against the slack latch, pushed the bag\n inside, placed the glass of water beside it, then pulled off his grimy\n railroader's cap and pushed it through the opening. He turned. The girl\n watched from the platform. A rattle passed down the line and the train\n started up with a lurch. The man walked back toward the girl. I heard\n him say: \"Friend o' mine in there—just passin' through.\"\n\n\n I was discovering that it wasn't necessary to hold tight control over\n every move of a subject. Once given the impulse to act, he would\n rationalize his behavior, fill in the details—and never know that the\n original idea hadn't been his own.\n\n\n I drank the water first, ate a sandwich, then lit a cigarette and lay\n back. So far so good. The crates in the car were marked \"U. S. Naval\n Aerospace Station, Bayou Le Cochon\". With any luck I'd reach New\n Orleans in another twelve hours. The first step of my plan included a\n raid on the Delta National Labs; but that was tomorrow. That could\n wait.\nIt was a little before dawn when I crawled out of the car at a siding\n in the swampy country a few miles out of New Orleans. I wasn't feeling\n good, but I had a stake in staying on my feet. I still had a few miles\n in me. I had my supplies—a few candy bars and some cigarettes—stuffed\n in the pockets of the tattered issue coverall. Otherwise, I was\n unencumbered. Unless you wanted to count the walking brace on my right\n leg and the sling binding my arm.\n\n\n I picked my way across mushy ground to a pot-holed black-top road,\n started limping toward a few car lights visible half a mile away. It\n was already hot. The swamp air was like warmed-over subway fumes.\n Through the drugs, I could feel my pulse throbbing in my various\n wounds. I reached out and touched the driver's mind; he was thinking\n about shrimps, a fish-hook wound on his left thumb and a girl with\n black hair. \"Want a lift?\" he called.\n\n\n I thanked him and got in. He gave me a glance and I pinched off his\n budding twinge of curiosity. It was almost an effort now not to follow\n his thoughts. It was as though my mind, having learned the trick of\n communications with others, instinctively reached out toward them.\n\n\n An hour later he dropped me on a street corner in a shabby marketing\n district of the city and drove off. I hoped he made out all right with\n the dark-haired girl. I spotted a used-clothing store and headed for it.\n\n\n Twenty minutes later I was back on the sidewalk, dressed in a\n pinkish-gray suit that had been cut a long time ago by a Latin\n tailor—maybe to settle a grudge. The shirt that went with it was\n an unsuccessful violet. The black string tie lent a dubious air of\n distinction. I'd swapped the railroader's cap for a tarnished beret.\n The man who had supplied the outfit was still asleep. I figured\n I'd done him a favor by taking it. I couldn't hope to pass for a\n fisherman—I wasn't the type. Maybe I'd get by as a coffee-house\n derelict.\n\n\n I walked past fly-covered fish stalls, racks of faded garments, grimy\n vegetables in bins, enough paint-flaked wrought iron to cage a herd of\n brontosauri, and fetched up at a cab stand. I picked a fat driver with\n a wart.\n\n\n \"How much to the Delta National Laboratories?\"\n\n\n He rolled an eye toward me, shifted his toothpick.\n\n\n \"What ya wanna go out there for? Nothing out there.\"\n\n\n \"I'm a tourist,\" I said. \"They told me before I left home not to miss\n it.\"\n\n\n He grunted, reached back and opened the door. I got in. He flipped his\n flag down, started up with a clash of gears and pulled out without\n looking.\n\n\n \"How far is it?\" I asked him.\n\n\n \"It ain't far. Mile, mile and a quarter.\"\n\n\n \"Pretty big place, I guess.\"\n\n\n He didn't answer.\n\n\n We went through a warehousing district, swung left along the\n waterfront, bumped over railroad tracks, and pulled up at a nine-foot\n cyclone fence with a locked gate.\n\n\n \"A buck ten,\" my driver said.\n\n\n I looked out at the fence, a barren field, a distant group of low\n buildings. \"What's this?\"\n\n\n \"This is the place you ast for. That'll be a buck ten, mister.\"\n\n\n I touched his mind, planted a couple of false impressions and withdrew.\n He blinked, then started up, drove around the field, pulled up at an\n open gate with a blue-uniformed guard. He looked back at me.\n\n\n \"You want I should drive in, sir?\"\n\n\n \"I'll get out here.\"\n\n\n He jumped out, opened my door, helped me out with a hand under my good\n elbow. \"I'll get your change, sir,\" he said, reaching for his hip.\n\n\n \"Keep it.\"\n\n\n \"Thank YOU.\" He hesitated. \"Maybe I oughta stick around. You know.\"\n\n\n \"I'll be all right.\"\n\n\n \"I hope so,\" he said. \"A man like you—you and me—\" he winked. \"After\n all, we ain't both wearing berets fer nothing.\"\n\n\n \"True,\" I said. \"Consider your tip doubled. Now drive away into the\n sunrise and forget you ever saw me.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Who put Granthan's leg in a walking brace?", "question_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2_1", "options": ["The med people", "He did it himself", "A colonel", "The first aid cabinet"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did they not want to let Granthan go back to Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2_2", "options": ["He needed to stay out and fight the war", "He was injured very badly", "They were afraid he was being controlled by someone", "He was the only survivor of the disaster"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Granthan know how to reach out to the Gool?", "question_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2_3", "options": ["There was an open channel", "He was a psychodynamicist", "He copied what they had done to him", "He was a soldier"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was not true about the aliens?", "question_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2_4", "options": ["They ate iron", "They were large", "Their mouths were above their brains", "They lived all throughout the galaxy"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Granthan get in the lifeboat?", "question_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2_5", "options": ["To get away from the fire", "To tend to his injuries", "Because he was the only survivor", "To go back to Earth to cause damage"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was it difficult for Granthan to get people to help him travel after he left the capsule?", "question_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2_6", "options": ["The authorities had circulated his picture", "He could no longer control their minds", "He was injured", "He did not understand people"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Describe Granthan's journey after leaving the capsule.", "question_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2_7", "options": ["Boat, then car, then train, then walking, then car, then cab", "Boat, then car, then train, then car, then walking, then car, then cab", "Boat, then car, then train, then walking, then cab", "Boat, then train, then walking, then car, then cab"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Granthan change from coveralls to a suit?", "question_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2_8", "options": ["He had to walk through a swamp", "His coveralls were tattered", "He was in New Orleans", "He was trying to avoid detection"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What endangered Granthan on his way from the capsule to the beach?", "question_unique_id": "51267_N197XHK2_9", "options": ["Missiles", "Guns", "His injuries", "Starvation"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/6/51267//51267-h//51267-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51351", "set_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Spicy Sound of Success", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "THE SPICY SOUND OF SUCCESS\nBy JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine August 1959.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nNow was the captain's chance to prove he knew\n \nless than the crew—all their lives hung upon it!\nThere was nothing showing on the video screen. That was why we were\n looking at it so analytically.\n\n\n \"Transphasia, that's what it is,\" Ordinary Spaceman Quade stated with\n a definite thrust of his angular jaw in my direction. \"You can take my\n word on that, Captain Gavin.\"\n\n\n \"Can't,\" I told him. \"I can't trust your opinion. I can't trust\nanything\n. That's why I'm Captain.\"\n\n\n \"You'll get over feeling like that.\"\n\n\n \"I know. Then I'll become First Officer.\"\n\n\n \"But look at that screen, sir,\" Quade said with an emphatic swing of\n his scarred arm. \"I've seen blank scanning like that before and you\n haven't—it's your first trip. This always means transphasia—cortex\n dissolution, motor area feedback, the Aitchell Effect—call it anything\n you like, it's still transphasia.\"\n\n\n \"I know what transphasia is,\" I said moderately. \"It means an\n electrogravitational disturbance of incoming sense data, rechanneling\n it to the wrong receptive areas. Besides the human brain, it also\n effects electronic equipment, like radar and television.\"\n\n\n \"Obviously.\" Quade glanced disgustedly at the screen.\n\n\n \"Too obvious. This time it might not be a familiar condition of many\n planetary gravitational fields. On this planet, that blank kinescope\n may mean our Big Brother kites were knocked down by hostile natives.\"\n\n\n \"You are plain wrong, Captain. Traditionally, alien races never\n interfere with our explorations. Generally, they are so alien to us\n they can't even recognize our existence.\"\nI drew myself up to my full height—and noticed in irritation it was\n still an inch less than Quade's. \"I don't understand you men. Look at\n yourself, Quade. You've been busted to Ordinary Spaceman for just that\n kind of thinking, for relying on tradition, on things that have worked\n before. Not only your thinking is slipshod, you've grown careless about\n everything else, even your own life.\"\n\n\n \"Just a minute, Captain. I've never been 'busted.' In the Exploration\n Service, we regard Ordinary Spaceman as our highest rank. With my\n hazard pay, I get more hard cash than\nyou\ndo, and I'm closer to\n retirement.\"\n\n\n \"That's a shallow excuse for complacency.\"\n\n\n \"Complacency! I've seen ten thousand wonders in twenty years of space,\n with a million variations. But the patterns repeat themselves. We learn\n to know what to expect, so maybe we can't maintain the reactionary\n caution the service likes in officers.\"\n\n\n \"I resent the word 'reactionary,' Spaceman! In civilian life, I was\n a lapidary and I learned the value of deliberation. But I never got\n too cataleptic to tap a million-dollar gem, which is more than my\n contemporaries can say, many of 'em.\"\n\n\n \"Captain Gavin,\" Quade said patiently, \"you must realize that an\n outsider like you, among a crew of skilled spacemen, can never be more\n than a figurehead.\"\n\n\n Was this the way I was to be treated? Why, this man had deliberately\n insulted me, his captain. I controlled myself, remembering the\n familiarity that had always existed between members of a crew working\n under close conditions, from the time of the ancient submarines and the\n first orbital ships.\n\n\n \"Quade,\" I said, \"there's only one way for us to find out which of us\n is right about the cause of our scanning blackout.\"\n\n\n \"We go out and find the reason.\"\n\n\n \"Exactly. We go. You and me. I hope you can stand my company.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not sure I can,\" he answered reluctantly. \"My hazard pay doesn't\n cover exploring with rookies. With all due respect, Captain.\"\n\n\n I clapped him on the shoulder. \"But, man, you have just been telling\n me all we had to worry about was common transphasia. A man with your\n experience could protect himself and cover even a rookie, under such\n familiar conditions—right?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir, I suppose I could,\" Quade said, bitterly aware he had lost\n out somewhere and hoping that it wasn't the start of a trend.\n\"Looks okay to me,\" I said. Quade passed a gauntlet over his faceplate.\n \"It's real. I can blur it with a smudged visor. When it blurs, it's\n solid.\"\n\n\n The landscape beyond the black corona left by our landing rockets was\n unimpressive. The rocky desert was made up of silicon and iron oxide,\n so it looked much the same as a terrestrial location. Yellowish-white\n sand ran up to and around reddish brown rock clawing into the pink\n sunlight.\n\n\n \"I don't understand it,\" Quade admitted. \"Transphasia hits you a foul\n as soon as you let it into the airlock.\"\n\n\n \"Apparently, Quade,\nthis\nthing is going to creep up on us.\"\n\n\n \"Don't sound smug, Captain. It's pitty-pattying behind you too.\"\n\n\n The keening call across the surface of consciousness postponed my reply.\n\n\n The wail was ominously forlorn, defiant of description. I turned my\n head around slowly inside my helmet, not even sure that I had heard it.\n\n\n But what else can you do with a wail but\nhear\nit?\n\n\n Quade nodded. \"I've felt this before. It usually hits sooner. Let's\n trace it.\"\n\n\n \"I don't like this,\" I admitted. \"It's not at all what I expected from\n what you said about transphasia. It must be something else.\"\n\n\n \"It couldn't be anything else. I know what to expect. You don't. You\n may begin smelling sensations, tasting sounds, hearing sights, seeing\n tastes, touching odors—or any other combination. Don't let it bother\n you.\"\n\n\n \"Of course not. I'll soothe my nerves by counting little shocks of\n lanolin jumping over a loud fence.\"\n\n\n Quade grinned behind his faceplate. \"Good idea.\"\n\n\n \"Then you can have it. I'm going to try keeping my eyes open and\n staying alive.\"\n\n\n There was no reply.\n\n\n His expression was tart and greasy despite all his light talk, and\n I knew mine was the same. I tested the security rope between our\n pressure suits. It was a taut and virile bass.\n\n\n We scaled a staccato of rocks, our suits grinding pepper against our\n hides.\n\n\n The musk summit rose before us, a minor-key horizon with a shifting\n treble for as far as I could smell. It was primitive beauty that made\n you feel shocking pink inside. The most beautiful vista I had ever\n tasted, it couldn't be dulled even by the sensation of beef broth under\n my skin.\n\n\n \"Is this transphasia?\" I asked in awe.\n\n\n \"It always has been before,\" Quade remarked. \"Ready to swallow your\n words about this being something an old hand wouldn't recognize,\n Captain?\"\n\n\n \"I'm swallowing no words until I find out precisely how they taste\n here.\"\n\n\n \"Not a bad taste. They're pretty. Or haven't you noticed?\"\n\n\n \"Quade, you're right! About the colors anyway. This reminds me of an\n illiscope recording from a cybernetic translator.\"\n\n\n \"It should. I don't suppose we could understand each other if it wasn't\n for our morphistudy courses in reading cross-sense translations of\n Centauri blushtalk and the like.\"\n\n\n It became difficult to understand him, difficult to try talking in the\n face of such splendor. You never really appreciate colors until you\n smell them for the first time.\nQuade was as conversational as ever, though. \"I can't see\n irregularities occurring in a gravitational field. We must have\n compensated for the transphasia while we still had a point of\n reference, the solid reality of the spaceship. But out here, where all\n we have to hang onto is each other, our concept of reality goes\nbang\nand deflates to a tired joke.\"\n\n\n Before I could agree with one of his theories for once, a streak of\n spice shot past us. It bounced back tangily and made a bitter rip\n between the two of us. There was no time to judge its size, if it had\n size, or its decibel range, or its caloric count, before a small, sharp\n pain dug in and dwindled down to nothing in one long second.\n\n\n The new odor pattern in my head told me Quade was saying something I\n couldn't quite make out.\n\n\n Quade then pulled me in the direction of the nasty little pain.\n\n\n \"Wait a minute, Spaceman!\" I bellowed. \"Where the devil do you think\n you're dragging me? Halt! That's a direct order.\"\n\n\n He stopped. \"Don't you want to find out what that was? This\nis\nan\n exploration party, you know, sir.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not sure I do want to find out what that was just now. I didn't\n like the feel of it. But the important thing is for us not to get any\n further from the ship.\"\n\n\n \"That's important, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"To the best of my judgment, yes. This—condition—didn't begin until\n we got so far away from the spacer—in time or distance. I don't want\n it to get any worse. It's troublesome not to know black from white, but\n it would be a downright inconvenience not to know which way is up.\"\n\n\n \"Not for an experienced spaceman,\" Quade griped. \"I'm used to\n free-fall.\"\n\n\n But he turned back.\n\n\n \"Just a minute,\" I said. \"There was something strange up ahead. I want\n to see if short-range radar can get through our electrogravitational\n jamming here.\"\n\n\n I took a sighting. My helmet set projected the pattern on the cornea.\n Sweetness building up to a stab of pure salt—those were the blips.\n\n\n Beside me, there was a thin thread of violet. Quade had whistled. He\n was reading the map too.\n\n\n The slope fell away sharply in front of us, becoming a deep gorge.\n There was something broken and twisted at the bottom, something we had\n known for an instant as a streak of spice.\n\n\n \"There's one free-fall,\" I said, \"where you wouldn't live long enough\n to get used to it.\"\n\n\n He said nothing on the route back to the spacer.\n\"I know all about this sort of thing, Gav,\" First Officer Nagurski said\n expansively. He was rubbing the well-worn ears of our beagle mascot,\n Bruce. A heavy tail thudded on the steel deck from time to time.\n\n\n My finger could barely get in the chafing band of my regulation collar.\n I was hot and tired, fresh—in only the chronological sense—from a\n pressure suit.\n\n\n \"What do you know all about, Nagurski? Dogs? Spacemen? Women?\n Transphasia?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" he answered casually. \"But I had immediate reference to our\n current psychophysiological phenomenon.\"\n\n\n I collapsed into the swivel in front of the chart table. \"First off,\n let's hear what you know about—never mind, make it dogs.\"\n\n\n \"Take Bruce, for example, then—\"\n\n\n \"No, thanks. I was wondering why\nyou\ndid.\"\n\n\n \"I didn't.\" His dark, round face was bland. \"Bruce picked me. Followed\n me home one night in Chicago Port. The dog or the man who picks his own\n master is the most content.\"\n\n\n \"Bruce is content,\" I admitted. \"He couldn't be any more content and\n still be alive. But I'm not sure that theory works out with men. We'd\n have anarchy if I tried to let these starbucks pick their own master.\"\n\n\n \"\nI\nhad no trouble when I was a captain,\" Nagurski said. \"Ease the\n reins on the men. Just offer them your advice, your guidance. They\n will soon see why the service selected you as captain; they will pick\n you themselves.\"\n\n\n \"Did your crew voluntarily elect you as their leader?\"\n\n\n \"Of course they did, Gav. I'm an old hand at controlling crews.\"\n\n\n \"Then why are you First Officer under me now?\"\n\n\n He blinked, then decided to laugh. \"I've been in space a good many\n years. I really wanted to relax a little bit more. Besides, the\n increase in hazard pay was actually more than my salary as a captain.\n I'm a notch nearer retirement too.\"\n\n\n \"Tell me, did you always feel this way about letting the men select\n their own leader?\"\nNagurski brought out a pipe. He would have a pipe, I decided.\n\n\n \"No, not always. I was like you at first. Fresh from the cosmic energy\n test lab, suspicious of everything, trying to tell the old hands what\n to do. But I learned that they are pretty smart boys; they know what\n they are doing. You can rely on them absolutely.\"\n\n\n I leaned forward, elbows on knees. \"Let me tell\nyou\na thing,\n Nagurski. Your trust of these damn-fool spacemen is why you are no\n longer a captain. You can't trust anything out here in space, much less\n human nature. Even I know that much!\"\n\n\n He was pained. \"If you don't trust the men, they won't trust you, Gav.\"\n\n\n \"They don't have to trust me. All they have to do is\nobey\nme or, by\n Jupiter, get frozen stiff and thawed out just in time for court-marshal\n back home. Listen,\" I continued earnestly, \"these men aren't going to\n think of me—of\nus\n, the officers, as their leaders. As far as the\n crew is concerned, Ordinary Spaceman Quade is the best man on this\n ship.\"\n\n\n \"He\nis\na good man,\" Nagurski said. \"You mustn't be jealous of his\n status.\"\n\n\n The dog growled. He must have sensed what I almost did to Nagurski.\n\n\n \"Never mind that for now,\" I said wearily. \"What was your idea for\n getting our exploration parties through this transphasia?\"\n\n\n \"There's only one idea for that,\" said Quade, ducking his long head\n and stepping through the connecting hatch. \"With the Captain's\n permission....\"\n\n\n \"Go ahead, Quade, tell him,\" Nagurski invited.\n\n\n \"There's only one way to wade through transphasia with any\n reliability,\" Quade told me. \"You keep some kind of physical contact\n with the spaceship. Parties are strung out on guide line, like we were,\n but the cable has to be run back and made fast to the hull.\"\n\n\n \"How far can we run it back?\"\n\n\n Quade shrugged. \"Miles.\"\n\n\n \"How many?\"\n\n\n \"We have three miles of cable. As long as you can feel, taste, see,\n smell or hear that rope anchoring you to home, you aren't lost.\"\n\n\n \"Three miles isn't good enough. We don't have enough fuel to change\n sites that often. You can't use the drive in a gravitational field, you\n know.\"\n\n\n \"What else can we do, Captain?\" Nagurski asked puzzledly.\n\n\n \"You've said that the spaceship is our only protection from\n transphasia. Is that it?\"\n\n\n Quade gave a curt nod.\n\n\n \"Then,\" I told them, \"we will have to start tearing apart this ship.\"\nSergeant-Major Hoffman and his team were doing a good job of ripping\n out the side of the afterhold. Through the portal I could see the\n suited men expertly guiding the huge curved sections on their ray\n projectors.\n\n\n \"Cannibalizing is dangerous.\" Nagurski put his pipe in his teeth and\n shook his head disapprovingly.\n\n\n \"Spaceships have parts as interchangeable as Erector sets. We can\n take apart the tractors and put our ship back together again after we\n complete the survey.\"\n\n\n \"You can't assemble a jigsaw puzzle if some of the pieces are missing.\"\n\n\n \"You can't get a complete picture, but you can get a good idea of\n what it looks like. We can take off in a reasonable facsimile of a\n spaceship.\"\n\n\n \"Not,\" he persisted, \"if\ntoo\nmany parts are missing.\"\n\n\n \"Nagurski, if you are looking for a job safer than space exploration,\n why don't you go back to testing cosmic bomb shelters?\"\n\n\n Nagurski flushed. \"Look here, Captain, you are being too damned\n cautious. There is a way one handles the survey of a planet like this,\n and this isn't the way.\"\n\n\n \"It's my way. You heard what Quade said. You know it yourself. The men\n have to have something tangible to hang onto out there. One slender\n cable isn't enough of an edge on sensory anarchy. If the product of\n their own technological civilization can keep them sane, I say let 'em\n take a part of that environment with them.\"\n\n\n \"In departing from standard procedure that we have learned to trust,\n you are risking more than a few men—you risk the whole mission in\n gambling so much of the ship. A captain doesn't take chances like that!\"\n\n\n \"I never said I wouldn't take chances. But I'm not going to take\nstupid\nchances. I\nmight\nbe doing the wrong thing, but I can see you\nwould\nbe doing it wrong.\"\n\n\n \"You know nothing about space, Captain! You have to trust\nus\n.\"\n\n\n \"That's it exactly, First Officer Nagurski,\" I said sociably. \"If you\n lazy, lax, complacent slobs want to do something in a particular way, I\n know it\nhas\nto be wrong.\"\n\n\n I turned and found Wallace, the personnel man, standing in the hatchway.\n\n\n \"Pardon, Captain, but would you say we also lacked initiative?\"\n\n\n \"I would,\" I answered levelly.\n\n\n \"Then you'll be interested to hear that Spaceman Quade took a suit and\n a cartographer unit. He's out there somewhere, alone.\"\n\n\n \"The idiot!\" I yelped. \"Everyone needs a partner out there. Send out a\n team to follow his cable and drag him in here by it.\"\n\n\n \"He didn't hook on a cable, Captain,\" Wallace said. \"I suppose he\n intended to go beyond the three-mile limit as you demanded.\"\n\n\n \"Shut up, Wallace. You don't have to like me, but you can't twist what\n I said as long as I command this spacer.\"\n\n\n \"Cool off, Gav,\" Nagurski advised me. \"It's been done before. Anybody\n else would have been a fool to go out alone, but Quade is the most\n experienced man we have. He knows transphasia. Trust him.\"\n\n\n \"I trusted him too far by letting him run around loose. He needs a\n leash in more ways than one, and I'm going to put one on him.\"\nFor me, it was a nightmare. I lay down in my cabin and thought. I had\n to think things through very carefully. One mistake was too many for\n me. My worst fear had been that someday I would overlook one tiny flaw\n and ruin a gem. Now I might have ruined an exploration and destroyed a\n man, not a stone, because I had missed the flaw.\n\n\n No one but a reckless fool would have gone out alone on a strange\n planet with a terrifying phenomenon, but I'd had enough evidence to see\n that space exploration\nmade\na man a reckless fool by doing things on\n one planet he had once found safe and wise on some other world.\n\n\n The thought intruded itself:\nwhy\nhadn't I recognized this before I\n let Quade escape to almost certain death? Wasn't it because I wanted\n him dead, because I resented the crew's resentment of my authority, and\n recognized in him the leader and symbol of this resentment?\n\n\n I threw away that idea along with my half-used cigarette. It might very\n well be true, but how did that help now?\n\n\n I had to\nthink\n.\n\n\n I was going after him, that was certain. Not only for humane\n reasons—he was the most important member of the crew. With him around,\n there were only two opinions, his and mine. Without him, I'd have\n endless opinions to contend with.\n\n\n But it wouldn't do any good to go out no better equipped than he.\n There was no time to wait for tractors to be built if we wanted to\n reach him alive, and we certainly couldn't reach him five or ten\n miles out with our three miles of safety line. We would have to go in\n spacesuits.\n\n\n But how would that leave us any better off than Quade?\n\n\n Why was Quade vulnerable in his spacesuit, as I knew from experience he\n would be?\n\n\n How could we be less vulnerable, or preferably invulnerable?\n\"Captain, you got nothing to worry about,\" Quartermaster Farley said.\n He patted a space helmet paternally. \"You got yourself a self-contained\n environment. The suit's eye looks into yours at the arteries in the\n back of your eyeball so it can read your amber corpuscles and feed\n you your oxygen in the right amounts; you're a bottle-fed baby. If\n transphasia gets you seeing limburger, turn on the radar and you're\n air-conditioned as an igloo. Nothing short of a cosmic blast can dent\n that hide. You got it made.\"\n\n\n \"You are right,\" I said, \"only transphasia comes right through these\n air-fast joints.\"\n\n\n \"Something strange about the trance, Captain,\" Farley said darkly. \"Any\n spaceman can tell you that. Things we don't understand.\"\n\n\n \"I'm talking about something we do understand—\nsound\n. These suits\n perfectly soundproof?\"\n\n\n \"Well, you can pick up sound by conduction. Like putting two helmets\n together and talking without using radio. You can't insulate enough to\n block out all sound and still have a man-shaped suit. You have—\"\n\n\n \"I know. Then you have something like a tractor or a miniature\n spaceship. There isn't time for that. We will have to live with the\n sound.\"\n\n\n \"What do you think he's going to hear out there, Captain? We'd like to\n find one of those beautiful sirens on some planet, believe me, but—\"\n\n\n \"I believe you,\" I said quickly. \"Let's leave it at that. I don't know\n what he will hear; what's worrying me is\nhow\nhe'll hear it, in what\n sensory medium. I hope the sound doesn't blind him. His radar is his\n only chance.\"\n\n\n \"How do you figure on getting a better edge yourself, sir?\"\n\n\n \"I have the idea, but not the word for it. Tonal compensation, I\n suppose. If you can't shut out the noise, we'll have to drown it out.\"\n\n\n Farley nodded. \"Beat like a telephone time signal?\"\n\n\n \"That would do it.\"\n\n\n \"It would do something else. It would drive you nuts.\"\nI shrugged. \"It might be distracting.\"\n\n\n \"Captain, take my word for it,\" argued Farley. \"Constant sonic\n feedback inside a spacesuit will set you rocking against the grain.\"\n\n\n \"Devise some regular system of interruptions,\" I suggested.\n\n\n \"Then the pattern will drive you crazy. Maybe in a few months, with\n luck, I could plan some harmonic scale you could tolerate—\"\n\n\n \"We don't have a few months,\" I said. \"How about music? There's a\n harmonic scale for you, and we can endure it, some of it.\nFigaro\nand\nAsleep in the Cradle of the Deep\ncan compensate for high-pitched\n outside temperatures, and\nFlight of the Bumble Bee\nto block bass\n notes.\"\n\n\n Farley nodded. \"Might work. I can program the tapes from the library.\"\n\n\n \"Good. There's one more thing—how are our stores of medicinal liquor?\"\n\n\n Farley paled. \"Captain, are you implying that\nI\nshould be running\n short on alcohol? Where do you get off suggesting a thing like that?\"\n\n\n \"I'm getting off at the right stop, apparently,\" I sighed. \"Okay,\n Farley, no evasions. In plain figures, how much drinking alcohol do we\n have left?\"\n\n\n The quartermaster slumped a bit. \"Twenty-one liters unbroken. One more\n about half full.\"\n\n\n \"Half full? How did that ever happen? I mean you had some\nleft\n? We'll\n take this up later. I want you to run it through the synthesizer to get\n some light wine....\"\n\n\n \"Light wine?\" Farley looked in pain. \"Not whiskey, brandy, beer?\"\n\n\n \"Light wine. Then ration it out to some of the men.\"\n\n\n \"Ration it to the men!\"\n\n\n \"That's an accurate interpretation of my orders.\"\n\n\n \"But, sir,\" Farley protested, \"you don't give alcohol to the crew in\n the middle of a mission. It's not done. What reason can you have?\"\n\n\n \"To sharpen their taste and olfactory senses. We can turn up or block\n out sound. We can use radar to extend our sight, but the Space Service\n hasn't yet developed anything to make spacemen taste or smell better.\"\n\n\n \"They are going to smell like a herd of winos,\" Farley said. \"I don't\n like to think how they would taste.\"\n\n\n \"It's an entirely practical idea. Tea-tasters used to drink\n almond-and-barley water to sharpen their senses. I've observed that\n wine helps you appreciate culinary art more. Considering the mixed-up\n sensory data under transphasia, wine may help us to see where we are\n going.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Farley said obediently. \"I'll give spacemen a few quarts of\n wine, telling them to use it carefully for scientific purposes only,\n and then they will be able to see where they are going. Yes, sir.\"\n\n\n I turned to leave, then paused briefly. \"You can come along, Farley.\n I'm sure you want to see that we don't waste any of the stuff.\"\n\"There they are!\" Nagurski called. \"Quade's footsteps again, just\n beyond that rocky ridge.\"\n\n\n The landscape was rich chocolate ice cream smothered with chocolate\n syrup, caramel, peanuts and maple syrup, eaten while you smoked an old,\n mellow Havana. The footsteps were faint traces of whipped cream across\n the dark, rich taste of the planet.\n\n\n I splashed some wine from my drinking tube against the roof of my mouth\n to sharpen my taste. It brought out the footsteps sharper. It also made\n the landscape more of a teen-ager's caloric nightmare.\n\n\n The four of us pulled ourselves closer together by reeling in more\n of our safety line. Farley and Hoffman, Nagurski and myself, we were\n cabled together. It gave us a larger hunk of reality to hold onto. Even\n so, things wavered for me during a wisp of time.\n\n\n We stumbled over the ridge, feeling out the territory. It was a sticky\n job crawling over a melting, chunk-style Hershey bar. I was thankful\n for the invigorating Sousa march blasting inside my helmet. Before the\n tape had cut in, kicked on by the decibel gauge, I had heard or felt\n something dark and ominous in the outside air.\n\n\n \"Yes, this is definitely the trail of Quail,\" Nagurski said soberly.\n \"This is serious business. I must ask whoever has been giggling on\n this channel to shut up. Pardon me, Captain.\nYou\nweren't giggling,\n sir?\"\n\n\n \"I have never giggled in my life, Nagurski.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. That's what we all thought.\"\n\n\n A moment later, Nagurski added, \"Anyway, I just noticed it was my\n shelf—my, that is, self.\"\n\n\n The basso profundo performing\nFigaro\non my headset climbed to a\n girlish shriek. A sliver of ice. This was the call Quade and I had\n first heard as we were about to troop over a cliff. I dug in my heels.\n\n\n \"Take a good look around, boys,\" I said. \"What do you see?\"\n\n\n \"Quail,\" Nagurski replied. \"That's what I see.\"\n\n\n \"You,\" I said carefully, \"have been in space a\nlong\ntime. Look again.\"\n\n\n \"I see our old buddy, Quail.\"\n\n\n I took another slosh of burgundy and peered up ahead. It\nwas\nQuade. A\n man in a spacesuit, faceplate in the dust, two hundred yards ahead.\nGrudgingly I stepped forward, out of the shadow of the ridge.\n A hysterically screaming wind rocked me on my toes. We pushed\n on sluggishly to Quade's side, moving to the tempo of\nPomp and\n Circumstance\n.\n\n\n Farley lugged Quade over on his back and read his gauges.\n\n\n The Quartermaster rose with grim deliberation, and hiccuped. \"Better\n get him back to the spaceship fast. I've seen this kind of thing\n before with transphasia. His body cooled down because of the screaming\n wind—psychosomatic reaction—and his heating circuits compensated for\n the cool flesh. The poor devil's got frostbite and heat prostration.\"\nThe four of us managed to haul Quade back by using the powered joints\n in our suits. Hoffman suggested that he had once seen an injured\n man walked back inside his suit like a robot, but it was a delicate\n adjustment, controlling power circuits from outside a suit. It was too\n much for us—we were too tired, too numb, too drunk.\n\n\n At first sight of the spacer in the distance, transphasia left me with\n only a chocolate-tasting pink after-image on my retina. It was now\n showing bare skeleton from cannibalization for tractor parts, but it\n looked good to me, like home.\n\n\n The wailing call sounded through the amber twilight.\n\n\n I realized that I was actually\nhearing\nit for the first time.\n\n\n The alien stood between us and the ship. It was a great pot-bellied\n lizard as tall as a man. Its sound came from a flat, vibrating beaver\n tail. Others of its kind were coming into view behind it.\n\n\n \"Stand your ground,\" I warned the others thickly. \"They may be\n dangerous.\"\n\n\n Quade sat up on our crisscross litter of arms. \"Aliens can't be\n hostile. Ethnic impossibility. I'll show you.\"\n\n\n Quade was delirious and we were drunk. He got away from us and jogged\n toward the herd.\n\n\n \"Let's give him a hand!\" Farley shouted. \"We'll take us a specimen!\"\n\n\n I couldn't stop them. Being in Alpine rope with them, I went along. At\n the time, it even seemed vaguely like a good idea.\n\n\n As we lumbered toward them, the aliens fell back in a solid line except\n for the first curious-looking one. Quade got there ahead of us and made\n a grab. The creature rose into the air with a screaming vibration of\n his tail and landed on top of him, flattening him instantly.\n\n\n \"Sssh, men,\" Nagurski said. \"Leave it to me. I'll surround him.\"\n\n\n The men followed the First Officer's example, and the rope tying them\n to him. I went along cheerfully myself, until an enormous rump struck\n me violently in the face. My leaded boots were driven down into fertile\n soil, and my helmet was ringing like a bell. I got a jerky picture of\n the beast jumping up and down on top of the others joyously. Only the\n stiff space armor was holding up our slack frames.\n\n\n \"Let's let him escape,\" Hoffman suggested on the audio circuit.\n\n\n \"I'd like to,\" Nagurski admitted, \"but the other beasts won't let us\n get past their circle.\"\n\n\n It was true. The aliens formed a ring around us, and each time a\n bouncing boy hit the line, he only bounced back on top of us.\n\n\n \"Flat!\" I yelled. \"Our seams can't take much more of this beating.\"\n\n\n I followed my own advice and landed in the dirt beside Quade.\n\n\n The bouncer came to rest and regarded us silently, head on an\n eighty-degree angle.\n\n\n I was stone sober.\n\n\n The others were lying around me quietly, passed out, knocked out, or\n taking cover.\n\n\n The ring of aliens drew in about us, closer, tighter, as the bouncer\n sat on his haunches and waited for us to move.\n\"Feeling better?\" I asked Quade in the infirmary.\n\n\n He punched up his pillow and settled back. \"I guess so. But when I\n think of all the ways I nearly got myself killed out there.... How far\n have you got in the tractors?\"\n\n\n \"I'm having the tractors torn down and the parts put back into the\n spaceship where they belong. We\nshouldn't\nrisk losing them and\n getting stuck here.\"\n\n\n \"Are you settling for a primary exploration?\"\n\n\n \"No. I think I had the right idea on your rescue party. You have to\n meet and fight a planet on its own terms. Fighting confused sounds and\n tastes with music and wine was crude, but it was on the right track.\n Out there, we understood language because we were familiar with alien\n languages changed to other sense mediums by cybernetic translators.\n Using the translator, we can learn to recognize all confused data as\n easily. I'm starting indoctrination courses.\"\n\n\n \"I doubt that that is necessary, sir,\" Quade said. \"Experienced\n spacemen are experienced with transphasia. You don't have to worry. In\n the future, I'll be able to resist sensations that tell me I'm freezing\n to death—if my gauges tell me it's a lie.\"\n\n\n I examined his bandisprayed hide. \"I think my way of gaining experience\n is less painful and more efficient.\"\n\n\n Quade squirmed. \"Yes, sir. One thing, sir—I don't understand how you\n got me away from those aliens.\"\n\n\n \"The aliens were trying to help. They knew something was wrong and they\n were prodding and probing. When the first tractor pulled up and the men\n got out, they seemed to realize our own people could help us easier\n than they could.\"\n\n\n \"I am not quite convinced that those babies just meant to help us all\n the time.\"\n\n\n \"But they did! First, that call of theirs—it wasn't to lead us into\n danger, but to warn us of the cliff, the freezing wind. They saw we\n were trying to find out things about their world, so they even offered\n us one of their own kind to study. Unfortunately, he was too much for\n us. They didn't give us their top man, of course, only the village\n idiot. It's just as well. We aren't allowed to dissect creatures that\n far up the intelligence scale.\"\n\n\n \"But why should they want to help us?\" Quade demanded suspiciously.\n\n\n \"I think it's like Nagurski's dog. The dog came to him when it wanted\n somebody to own it, protect it, feed it, love it. These aliens\nwant\nEarthmen to colonize the planet. We came here, you see, same as the dog\n came to Nagurski.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I've learned one thing from all of this,\" Quade said. \"I've been\n a blind, arrogant, cocksure fool, following courses that were good on\nsome\nworlds,\nmost\nworlds, but not good on\nall\nworlds. I'm never\n going to be that foolhardy again.\"\n\n\n \"But you're losing\nconfidence\n, Quade! You aren't sure of yourself any\n more. Isn't confidence a spaceman's most valuable asset?\"\n\n\n \"The hell it is,\" Quade said grimly. \"It's his deadliest liability.\"\n\n\n \"In that case, I must inform you that I am demoting you to Acting\n Executive Officer.\"\n\n\n \"Huh?\" Quade gawked. \"But dammit, Captain, you can't do that to me!\n I'll lose hazard pay and be that much further from retirement!\"\n\n\n \"That's tough,\" I sympathized, \"but in every service a chap gets broken\n in rank now and then.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe it's worth it,\" Quade said heavily. \"Now maybe I've learned how\n to stay alive out here. I just hope I don't forget.\"\n\n\n I thought about that. I was nearly through with my first mission and\n I could speak with experience, even if it was the least amount of\n experience aboard.\n\n\n \"Quade,\" I said, \"space isn't as dangerous as all that.\" I clapped him\n on the shoulder fraternally. \"You worry too much!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What did the captain think was causing the scanning blackout?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV_1", "options": ["Many planetary gravitational fields", "He was uncertain", "The kites being taken out by hostiles", "Transphasia"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "From whose point of view is the story told?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV_2", "options": ["Multiple people", "Nagurski", "Gavin", "Quade"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was it his first trip as Captain?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV_3", "options": ["He used to be First Officer", "He used to work with gemstones", "He used to be an Ordinary Spaceman", "He used to work as an officer on Earth"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Quade feel about the situation?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV_4", "options": ["He was less cautious than others", "He wished he was getting hazard pay", "It was completely unfamiliar to him", "He was more cautious than others"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Quade compare himself to the captain?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV_5", "options": ["He felt vastly inferior", "He felt a little inferior", "He felt superior", "He felt equal"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following could not be caused by transphasia?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV_6", "options": ["Feeling an earthquake", "Smelling the color red", "Hearing the sunlight", "Tasting a cry for help"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Quade feel about what he said?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV_7", "options": ["That it was pretty", "That it was ugly", "That it left a bad taste", "That it was incorrect"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What helped mitigate the effects of the anomaly?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV_8", "options": ["Talking", "Moving around", "The training of the spacemen", "The ship"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Nagurski happy to no longer be a captain?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAZYFZSV_9", "options": ["The men didn't trust him", "He was suspicious of everything", "He had only wanted to do it for a few years", "He wanted less stress at work"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/5/51351//51351-h//51351-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51605", "set_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Jamieson", "year": 1958, "author": "Doede, William R.", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Mothers and sons -- Fiction; Short stories", "article": "JAMIESON\nBy BILL DOEDE\n\n\n Illustrated by GRAY\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine December 1960.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nA Konv cylinder was the key to space—but\n \nthere was one power it could not match!\nThey lived in a small house beside the little Wolf river in Wisconsin.\n Once it had been a summer cottage owned by a rich man from Chicago.\n The rich man died. His heirs sold it. Now it was well insulated and\n Mrs. Jamieson and her son were very comfortable, even in the coldest\n winter. During the summer they rented a few row boats to vacationing\n fishermen, and she had built a few overnight cabins beside the road.\n They were able to make ends meet.\n\n\n Her neighbors knew nothing of the money she had brought with her to\n Wisconsin. They didn't even know that she was not a native. She never\n spoke of it, except at first, when Earl was a boy of seven and they had\n just come there to live. Then she only said that she came from the\n East. She knew the names of eastern Wisconsin towns, and small facts\n about them; it lent an air of authenticity to her claim of being a\n native. Actually her previous residence was Bangkok, Siam, where the\n Agents had killed her husband.\n\n\n That was back in '07, on the eve of his departure for Alpha Centaurus;\n but she never spoke of this; and she was very careful not to move from\n place to place except by the conventional methods of travel.\n\n\n Also, she wore her hair long, almost to the shoulders. People said,\n \"There goes one of the old-fashioned ones. That hair-do was popular\n back in the sixties.\" They did not suspect that she did this only to\n cover the thin, pencil-line scar, evidence that a small cylinder lay\n under her skin behind the ear.\nFor Mrs. Jamieson was one of the Konvs.\n\n\n Her husband had been one of the small group who developed this tiny\n instrument. Not the inventor—\nhis\nname was Stinson, and the effects\n produced by it were known as the Stinson Effect. In appearance\n it resembled a small semi-conductor device. Analysis by the best\n scientific minds proved it to be a semi-conductor.\n\n\n Yet it held the power to move a body instantly from one point in space\n to any other point. Each unit was custom built, keyed to operate only\n by the thought pattern of the particular individual.\n\n\n Several times in the past seven years Mrs. Jamieson had seen other\n Konvs, and had been tempted to identify herself and say, \"Here I am.\n You are one of them; so am I. Come, and we'll talk. We'll talk about\n Stinson and Benjamin, who helped them all get away. And Doctor Straus.\n And my husband, E. Mason Jamieson, who never got away because those\n filthy, unspeakable Agents shot him in the back, there in that coffee\n shop in Bangkok, Siam.\"\nOnce, in the second year after her husband's death, an Agent came and\n stayed in one of her cabins.\n\n\n She learned that he was an Agent completely by accident. While cleaning\n the cabin one morning his badge fell out of a shirt pocket. She stood\n still, staring at the horror of it there on the floor, the shirt in\n her hands, all the loneliness returning in a black wave of hate and\n frustration.\n\n\n That night she soundlessly lifted the screen from the window over his\n bed and shot him with a .22 rifle.\n\n\n She threw the weapon into the river. It helped very little. He was one\n Agent, only one out of all the thousands of Agents all over Earth;\n while her husband had been one of twenty-eight persons. She decided\n then that her efforts would be too ineffective. The odds were wrong.\n She would wait until her son, Earl, was grown.\n\n\n Together they would seek revenge. He did not have the cylinder—not\n yet. But he would. The Konvs took care of their own.\n\n\n Her husband had been one of the first, and they would not forget. One\n day the boy would disappear for a few hours. When he returned the small\n patch of gauze would be behind his ear. She would shield him until the\n opening healed. Then no one would ever know, because now they could do\n it without leaving the tell-tale scar. Then they would seek revenge.\n\n\n Later they would go to Alpha Centaurus, where a life free from Agents\n could be lived.\n\n\n It happened to Earl one hot summer day when he was fourteen. Mrs.\n Jamieson was working in her kitchen; Earl supposedly was swimming with\n his friends in the river. Suddenly he appeared before her, completely\n nude. At sight of his mother his face paled and he began to shake\n violently, so that she was forced to slap him to prevent hysteria. She\n looked behind his ear.\n\n\n It was there.\n\n\n \"Mom!\" he cried. \"Mom!\"\n\n\n He went to the window and looked out toward the river, where his\n friends were still swimming in the river, with great noise and delight.\n Apparently they did not miss him. Mrs. Jamieson handed him a pair of\n trousers. \"Here, get yourself dressed. Then we'll talk.\"\nHe started for his room, but she stopped him. \"No, do it right here.\n You may as well get used to it now.\"\n\n\n \"Get used to what?\"\n\n\n \"To people seeing you nude.\"\n\n\n \"What?\"\n\n\n \"Never mind. What happened just now?\"\n\n\n \"I was swimming in the river, and a man came down to the river. His\n hair was all white, and his eyes looked like ... well, I never saw eyes\n like his before. He asked who was Earl Jamieson, and I said I was. Then\n he said, 'Come with me.' I went with him. I don't know why. It seemed\n the right thing. He took me to a car and there was another man in it,\n that looked like the first one only he was bigger. We went to a house,\n not far away and went inside. And that's all I can remember until I\n woke up. I was on a table, sort of. A high table. There was a light\n over it. It was all strange, and the two men stood there talking in\n some language I don't know.\"\n\n\n Earl ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. \"I don't remember\n clearly, I guess. I was looking around the room and I remember thinking\n how scared I was, and how nice it would be to be here with you. And\n then I was here.\"\n\n\n Earl faced the window, looking out, then turned quickly back. \"What is\n it?\" he asked, desperately. \"What happened to me?\"\n\n\n \"Better put your trousers on,\" Mrs. Jamieson said. \"It's something very\n unusual and terrible to think of at first, but really wonderful.\"\n\n\n \"But what happened? What is this patch behind my ear?\"\n\n\n Suddenly his face paled and he stopped in the act of getting into his\n trousers. \"Guess I know now. They made me a Konv.\"\n\n\n \"Well, don't take on so. You'll get used to it.\"\n\n\n \"But they shouldn't have! They didn't even ask me!\"\n\n\n He started for the door, but she called him back. \"No, don't run away\n from it now. This is the time to face it. There are two sides to every\n story, you know. You hear only one side in school—their side. There is\n also\nour\nside.\"\n\n\n He turned back, a dawning comprehension showing in his eyes. \"That's\n right, you're one, too. That is why you killed that Agent in the third\n cabin.\"\n\n\n It was her turn to be surprised. \"You knew about that?\"\n\n\n \"I saw you. I wasn't sleeping. I was afraid to stay inside alone, so I\n followed you. I never told anyone.\"\n\n\n \"But you were only nine!\"\n\n\n \"They would have taken you away if I'd said anything.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson held out her hand. \"Come here, son. It's time I told you\n about us.\"\nSo he sat across the kitchen table from her, and she told the whole\n history, beginning with Stinson sitting in the laboratory in New\n Jersey, holding in his hand a small cylinder moulded from silicon\n with controlled impurities. He had made it, looking for a better\n micro-circuit structure. He was holding this cylinder ... and it was a\n cold day outside ... and he was dreaming of a sunny Florida beach—\n\n\n And suddenly he was there, on the beach. He could not believe it at\n first. He felt the sand and water, and felt of himself; there was no\n mistake.\n\n\n On the plane back to New Jersey he came to certain conclusions\n regarding the strange power of his device. He tried it again, secretly.\n Then he made more cylinders. He was the only man in the world who\n knew how to construct it, and he kept the secret, giving cylinders\n to selected people. He worked out the basic principle, calling it a\n kinetic ordinate of negative vortices, which was very undefinitive.\n\n\n It was a subject of wonder and much speculation, but no one took\n serious notice of them until one night a federal Agent arrested one man\n for indecency. It was a valid charge. One disadvantage of this method\n of travel was that, while a body could travel instantaneously to any\n chosen spot, it arrived without clothes.\n\n\n The arrested man disappeared from his jail cell, and the next morning\n the Agent was found strangled to death in his bed. This set off a\n campaign against Konvs. One base act led to another, until the original\n reason for noticing them at all was lost. Normal men no longer thought\n of them as human.\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson told how Stinson, knowing he had made too many cylinders\n and given them unwisely, left Earth for Alpha Centaurus.\n\n\n He went alone, not knowing if he could go so far, or what he would find\n when he arrived. But he did arrive, and it was what he had sought.\n\n\n He returned for the others. They gathered one night in a dirty,\n broken-down farmhouse in Missouri—and disappeared in a body, leaving\n the Agents standing helplessly on Earth, shaking their fists at the sky.\n\n\n \"You have asked many times,\" Mrs. Jamieson said, \"how your father\n died. Now I will tell you the truth. Your father was one of the great\n ones, along with Stinson and Benjamin and Dr. Straus. He helped plan\n the escape; but the Agents found him in Bangkok fifteen minutes before\n the group left. They shot him in the back, and the others had to go on\n without him. Now do you know why I killed the Agent in the third cabin?\n I had to. Your father was a great man, and I loved him.\"\n\n\n \"I don't blame you, mother,\" Earl said simply. \"But we are freaks.\n Everybody says, 'Konv' as if it is something dirty. They write it on\n the walls in rest rooms.\"\n\n\n \"Of course they do—because they don't understand! They are afraid of\n us. Wouldn't you be afraid of someone who could do the things we do, if\n you\ncouldn't\ndo them?\"\n\n\n Just like that, it was over.\n\n\n That is, the first shock was over. Mrs. Jamieson watched Earl leave the\n house, walking slowly along the river, a boy with a man's problems.\n His friends called to him from the river, but he chose not to hear.\n He wanted to be alone. He needed to think, to feel the newness of the\n thing.\n\n\n Perhaps he would cross the river and enter the deep forest there. When\n the initial shock wore off he might experiment with his new power. He\n would not travel far, in these first attempts. Probably he would stay\n within walking distance of his clothes, because he still lacked the\n tricks others had learned.\n\n\n It was a hot, mucky afternoon with storm clouds pushing out of the\n west. Mrs. Jamieson put on her swimming suit and wandered down to the\n river to cool herself.\nFor the remainder of that summer they worked together. They practiced\n at night mostly, taking longer and longer jumps, until Earl's\n confidence allowed him to reach any part of the Earth he chose. She\n knew the habits of Agents. She knew how to avoid them.\n\n\n They would select a spot sufficiently remote to insure detection, she\n would devise some prank to irritate the Agents; then they would quickly\n return to Wisconsin. The Agents would rush to the calculated spot, but\n would find only the bare footprints of a woman and a boy. They would\n swear and drive back to their offices to dig through files, searching\n for some clue to their identity.\n\n\n It was inevitable that they should identify Mrs. Jamieson as one of\n the offenders, since they had discovered, even before Stinson took his\n group to Centaurus, that individuals had thought patterns peculiar to\n themselves. These could be identified, if caught on their detectors,\n and even recorded for the files. But the files proved confusing, for\n they said that Mrs. Jamieson had gone to Centaurus with the others.\n\n\n Had she returned to Earth? The question did not trouble them long. They\n had more serious problems. Stinson had selected only the best of the\n Konvs when he left Earth, leaving all those with criminal tendencies\n behind. They could have followed if they chose—what could stop them?\n But it was more lucrative to stay. On Earth they could rob, loot, even\n murder—without fear of the law.\n\n\n Earl changed.\n\n\n Even before the summer was over, he matured. The childish antics of his\n friends began to bore him. \"Be careful, Earl,\" his mother would say.\n \"Remember who you are. Play with them sometimes, even if you don't like\n it. You have a long way to go before you will be ready.\"\n\n\n During the long winter evenings, after they had watched their favorite\n video programs, they would sit by the fireplace. \"Tell me about the\n great ones,\" he would say, and she would repeat all the things she\n remembered about Stinson and Benjamin and Straus. She never tired of\n discussing them. She would tell about Benjamin's wife, Lisa, and try to\n describe the horror in Lisa's young mind when the news went out that\n E. Mason Jamieson had been killed. She wanted him to learn as much as\n possible about his father's death, knowing that soon the Agents would\n be after Earl. They were so clever, so persistent. She wanted him to be\n ready, not only in ways of avoiding their traps ... but ready with a\n heart full of hate.\n\n\n Sometimes when she talked about her husband, Mrs. Jamieson wanted to\n stand up and scream at her son, \"Hate, hate! Hate! You must learn to\n hate!\" But she clenched her hands over her knitting, knowing that he\n would learn it faster if she avoided the word.\nThe winter passed, and the next summer, and two more summers.\n\n\n Earl was ready for college. They had successfully kept their secret.\n They had been vigilant in every detail. Earl referred to the \"damn\n Agents\" now with a curl of his lip. They had been successful in\n contacting other Konvs, and sometimes visited them at a remote\n rendezvous.\n\n\n \"When you have finished college,\" Mrs. Jamieson told her son, \"we will\n go to Centaurus.\"\n\n\n \"Why not now?\"\n\n\n \"Because when you get there they will need men who can contribute to\n the development of the planet. Stinson is a physicist, Benjamin a\n metallurgist, Straus a doctor. But Straus is an old man by this time. A\n young doctor will be needed. Study hard, Earl. Learn all you can. Even\n the great ones get sick.\"\n\n\n She did not mention her secret hope, that before they left Earth\n he would have fully avenged his father's death. He was clever and\n intelligent.\n\n\n He could kill many Agents.\n\n\n So she exhumed the money she had hidden more than ten years before.\n The house beside the Little Wolf river was sold. They found a modest\n bungalow within walking distance of the University's medical school.\n Mrs. Jamieson furnished it carefully but, oddly, rather lavishly.\n\n\n This was her husband's money she was spending now. It needed to last\n only a few years. Then they would leave Earth forever.\n\n\n A room was built on the east side of the bungalow, with its own private\n entrance. This was Earl's room. Ostensibly the private entrance was for\n convenience due to the irregular hours of college students.\n\n\n It was also convenient for coming home late at night after Agent\n hunting.\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson was becoming obvious.\n\n\n Excitement brought color to her cheeks when she thought of Earl facing\n one of them—a lean, cunning jaguar facing a fat, lazy bear. It was her\n notion that federal Agents were evil creatures, tools of a decadent,\n bloodthirsty society, living off the fat of the land.\n\n\n She painted the room herself, in soft, pastel colors. When it was\n finished she showed Earl regally into the room, making a big joke of it.\n\n\n \"Here you can study and relax, and have those bull sessions students\n are always having,\" she said.\n\n\n \"There will be no friends,\" he answered, \"not here. No Konvs will be at\n the university.\"\n\n\n \"Why not? Stinson selected only educated, intelligent people. When\n one dies the cylinder is taken and adjusted to a new thought\n pattern—usually a person from the same family. I would say it is very\n likely that Konvs will be found here.\"\nHe shook his head. \"No. They knew we were coming, and no one said a\n word about others being here. I'm afraid we are alone.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I think not,\" she said firmly. \"Anyway, the room will be\n comfortable.\"\n\n\n He shook his head again. \"Why can't I be in the house with you? There\n are two bedrooms.\"\n\n\n She said quickly, \"You can if you wish. I just thought you'd like being\n alone, at your age. Most boys do.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not like most boys, mother. The Konvs saw to that. Sometimes I'm\n sorry. Back in high school I used to wish I was like the others. Do you\n remember Lorane Peters?\" His mother nodded. \"Well, when we were seniors\n last year she liked me quite a lot. She didn't say so, but I knew it.\n She would sit across the aisle from me, and sometimes when I saw how\n her hair fell over her face when she read, I wanted to lean over and\n whisper to her, 'Hey, Lorrie—' just as if I was human—'can I take you\n to the basketball game?'\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson turned to leave the room, but he stopped her. \"You\n understand what I'm saying, don't you?\"\n\n\n \"No, I don't!\" she said sharply. \"You're old enough to face realities.\n You are a Konv. You always will be a Konv.\nHave you forgotten your own\n father?\n\"\n\n\n She turned her back and slammed the door. Earl stood very still for\n a long time in the room that was to have been happy for him. She was\n crying just beyond the wall.\n\n\n Earl did not use the room that first year. He slept in the second\n bedroom. He did not mention his frustrated desires to be normal, not\n after the first attempt, but he persisted in his efforts to be so. Use\n of the cylinder was out of the question for them now, anyway.\n\n\n In the spring Mrs. Jamieson caught a virus cold which resulted in a\n long convalescence. Earl moved into the new bedroom. At first she\n thought he moved in an effort to please her because of the illness, but\n she soon grew aware of her mistake.\n\n\n One day he disappeared.\nMrs. Jamieson was alarmed. Had the Agents found him? She watched the\n papers daily for some word of Konvs being killed.\n\n\n The second day after his disappearance she found a small item. A Konv\n had raided the Agent's office in Stockholm, killing three, and getting\n killed himself. Mrs. Jamieson dropped the paper immediately and went\n to Stockholm. She did not consider the risk. In Stockholm she found\n clothes and made discreet inquiries. The slain man had been a Finnish\n Konv, one of those left behind by Stinson as an undesirable. His wife\n had been killed by the Agents the week before. He had gone completely\n insane and made the raid singlehanded. Mrs. Jamieson read the account\n of crimes committed by the man and his wife, and determined to prevent\n Earl from making the mistake of taking on more than he could handle.\n\n\n When she arrived at her own home, Earl was in his room.\n\n\n \"Where have you been?\" she asked petulantly.\n\n\n \"Oh, here and there.\"\n\n\n \"I thought you were involved in that fight in Stockholm.\"\n\n\n He shook his head.\n\n\n She stood in the doorway and watched him leaning over his desk,\n attempting to write something on a sheet of paper. She was proud of his\n profile, tow-headed as a boy, handsome in a masculine way. He cracked\n his knuckles nervously.\n\n\n \"What did you do?\" she asked.\n\n\n Suddenly he flung the pencil down, jumped from his chair and paced the\n floor. \"I talked to an Agent last night,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Where?\"\n\n\n \"Bangkok.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson had to sit down. Finally she was able to ask, \"How did it\n happen?\"\n\n\n \"I broke into the office there to get at the records. He caught me.\"\n\n\n \"What were you looking for?\"\n\n\n \"I wanted to learn the names of the men who killed Father.\" He said the\n word strangely. He was unaccustomed to it.\n\n\n \"Did you find them?\"\n\n\n He pointed to the paper on his desk. Mrs. Jamieson, trembling, picked\n it up and read the names. Seeing them there, written like any other\n names would be written, made her furious. How could they? How could the\n names of murderers look like ordinary names? When she thought them in\n her mind, they even sounded like ordinary names—and they shouldn't!\n She had always thought that those names, if she ever saw them, would\n be filthy, unholy scratches on paper, evil sounds, like the rustle of\n bedclothes to a jealous lover listening at a keyhole. \"Tom Palieu\"\n didn't sound evil; neither did \"Al Jonson.\" She was shaken by this more\n than she would permit Earl to see.\n\"Why did you want the names?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" he said. \"Curiosity, maybe, or a subconscious desire\n for revenge. I just wanted to see them.\"\n\n\n \"Tell me what happened! If an Agent saw you ... well, either he killed\n you or you killed him. But you're here alive.\"\n\n\n \"I didn't kill him. That's what seems so strange. And he didn't try to\n kill me. We didn't even fight. He didn't ask why I broke in without\n breaking the lock or even a window. He seemed to know. He did ask what\n I was doing there, and who I was. I told him, and ... he helped me get\n the names. He asked where I lived. 'None of your damn business,' I told\n him. Then he said he didn't blame me for not telling, that Konvs must\n fear Agents, and hate them. Then he said, 'Do you know why we kill\n Konvs? We kill them because there is no prison cell in the world that\n will hold a Konv. When they break the law, we have no choice. It is a\n terrible thing, but must be done. We don't want your secret; we only\n want law and order. There is room enough in the world for both of us.'\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson was furious. \"And you believed him?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know. I just know what he said—and that he let me go without\n trying to shoot me.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson stopped on her way out of the room and laid a hand on his\n arm. \"Your father would have been proud of you,\" she said. \"Soon you\n will learn the truth about the Agents.\"\n\n\n Beyond the closed door, out of sight of her son, Mrs. Jamieson gave\n rein to the excitement that ran through her. He had wanted the names!\n He didn't know why—not yet—but he would. \"He'll do it yet!\" she\n whispered to the flowered wallpaper. She didn't care that no one heard\n her.\n\n\n She didn't know where the men were now, those who had killed her\n husband. They could be anywhere. Agents moved from post to post; in ten\n years they might be scattered all over Earth. In the killing of Konvs,\n some cylinders might even be taken by Agents—and used by them, for\n the power and freedom the cylinders gave must be coveted even by them.\n And they were in the best position to gain them. She was consumed by\n fear that one or more of the men on Earl's list might have acquired a\n cylinder and were now Konvs themselves.\nTwo weeks later she read a news item saying that Tom Palieu had been\n killed by a Konv. The assassin's identity was unknown, but agents were\n working on the case.\n\n\n She knew. She had found a gun in Earl's desk.\n\n\n She took the paper into Earl's room. \"Did you do this?\"\n\n\n He turned away from her. \"It doesn't matter whether I did or not. They\n will suspect me. His name was on the list.\"\n\n\n \"They will,\" she agreed. \"It doesn't matter who the Konv is, now that\n an Agent has been killed. The one in Bangkok will tell them about you\n and the list of names, and it's all they need.\"\n\n\n \"Well, what else can he do?\" Earl asked. \"After all, he is an Agent.\n If one of them is killed, he will have to tell what he knows.\"\n\n\n \"You're defending him? Why?\" she cried. \"Tell me why!\"\n\n\n He removed her hand from his arm. Her nails were digging into his\n flesh. \"I don't know why. Mother, I'm sorry, but Agents are just people\n to me. I can't hate them the way you do.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson's face colored, then drained white.\n\n\n Suddenly, with a wide, furious sweep of her hand, she slapped his face.\n So much strength and rage was in her arm that the blow almost sent him\n spinning. They faced each other, she breathing hard from the exertion,\n Earl stunned immobile—not by the blow, but from the knowledge that she\n could hate so suddenly, viciously.\n\n\n She controlled herself. \"We must find a way to leave here,\" she said,\n calmly.\n\n\n \"They won't find us.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes they will,\" she said. \"Don't underestimate them. Agents are\n picked from the most intelligent people on Earth. It will be a small\n job for them. Don't forget they know who you are. Even if you hadn't\n been so stupid as to tell them, they'd know. They knew my pattern from\n the time your father was alive. They got yours when we were together\n years ago, teasing them. They linked your pattern with mine. They know\n that your father and I had a son. Your birth was recorded. The only\n difficult aspect of their job now is to find where you live, and it\n won't be impossible. They will drive their cars through every city on\n Earth with those new detectors, until they pick up your pattern or\n mine. I'm afraid it's time to leave Earth.\"\nEarl sat down suddenly, \"It's just as well. I thought maybe some day I\n might hate them too, or learn to like them. But I can do neither, so I\n am halfway between, and no man can live this way.\"\n\n\n She did not answer him. Finally he said, \"It doesn't make sense to you,\n does it?\"\n\n\n \"No, it doesn't. This is not the time for such discussions, anyway. The\n Agents have their machines working at top speed, while we sit here and\n talk.\"\n\n\n Suddenly they were not alone.\n\n\n No sound was generated by the man's coming. One instant they were\n talking alone, the next he was here. Earl saw him first. He was a\n middle-aged man whose hair was completely white. He stood near the\n desk, easily, as if standing there were the most natural way to relax.\n He was entirely nude ... but it seemed natural and right.\n\n\n Then Mrs. Jamieson saw him.\n\n\n \"Benjamin!\" she cried. \"I knew someone would come.\"\n\n\n He smiled. \"This is your son?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" she said. \"We are ready.\"\n\n\n \"I remember when you were born,\" he said, and smiled in reminiscence.\n \"Your father was afraid you would be twins.\"\n\n\n Earl said, \"Why was my father killed?\"\n\n\n \"By mistake. Back in those days, like now, there were good Konvs and\n bad. One of those not selected by Stinson to join us was enraged, half\n crazy with envy. He killed two women there in Bangkok. The Agents\n thought Jamieson—I mean, your father—did it. Jamieson was the\n greatest man among us. It was he who first conceived the theory that\n there was a basic, underlying law in the operation of the cylinders.\n Even now, no one knows how the idea of love ties in with the Stinson\n Effect; but we do know that hate and greed as motivating forces can\n greatly minimize the cylinders' power. That is why the undesirables\n with cylinders have never reached Centaurus.\"\n\n\n Heavy steps sounded on the porch outside.\n\n\n \"We'd better hurry,\" Mrs. Jamieson said.\n\n\n Benjamin held out his hands. They took them, to increase the power of\n the cylinders. As the Agents pounded on the door, Mrs. Jamieson flicked\n one thought of hatred at them, but of course they did not hear her.\n Benjamin's hands gripped tightly.\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson slowly opened her eyes....\n\n\n She no longer felt the hands.\nShe was still in the room!\nBenjamin and\n her son were gone. Her outstretched hands touched nothing.\n\n\n Her power was gone!\n\n\n The Agents stepped into the room over the broken door. She stared at\n them, then ran to Earl's desk, fumbling for the gun.\n\n\n The Agents' guns rattled.\n\n\n Love, Benjamin said, the greatest of these is love. Or did someone\n else say that? Someone, somewhere, perhaps in another time, in some\n misty, forgotten chip of time long gone, in another frame of reference\n perhaps....\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson could not remember, before she died.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many years passed between moving to Wisconsin and her son becoming a Konv?", "question_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP_1", "options": ["2", "5", "7", "6"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the mother not go to space with Earl?", "question_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP_2", "options": ["She hated the agents", "She loved her husband", "She loved her son", "She was afraid to go"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When did Earl go to space?", "question_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP_3", "options": ["At the end of high school", "During his first year of university", "After he finished college", "When he was 14"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Earl wish to be human?", "question_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP_4", "options": ["He was born a Konv", "He wasn't born human", "He had no friends at university", "He liked a girl"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where did Earl go when he disappeared during college?", "question_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP_5", "options": ["Stockholm", "Wolf River", "Siam ", "Centaurus"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Mrs. Jamieson's biggest problem in the story?", "question_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP_6", "options": ["She did not understand the Stinson Effect", "She had to raise her son alone", "She was just able to make ends meet", "She had to hide her scar"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the woman not realize her cylinder no longer worked?", "question_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP_7", "options": ["She was against using the cylinder", "She had not wanted to go to Centaurus", "She had avoided using it as part of her disguise", "She never learned how to use the cylinder"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the woman kill the man in the third cabin?", "question_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP_8", "options": ["She thought he was there to kill Earl", "She thought he was there to kill her", "He said he was an agent", "She found out he was an agent"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Earl need to get used to being seen nude?", "question_unique_id": "51605_E8R4X4OP_9", "options": ["He liked to swim in the river with his friends", "He was taken by the Konv for surgery", "When you travel with the cylinder you arrive nude", "He shared a small house with his mom"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/6/0/51605//51605-h//51605-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "49897", "set_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Gravity Business", "year": 1963, "author": "Gunn, James E.", "topic": "Space flight -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; PS; Families -- Fiction", "article": "The Gravity Business\nBy JAMES E. GUNN\n\n\n Illustrated by ASHMAN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy January 1956.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright\n on this publication was renewed.]\nThis little alien beggar could dictate his own terms, but how could\n he—and how could anyone find out what those terms might be?\nThe flivver descended vertically toward the green planet circling the\n old, orange sun.\n\n\n It was a spaceship, but not the kind men had once dreamed about. The\n flivver was shaped like a crude bullet, blunt at one end of a fat\n cylinder and tapering abruptly to a point at the other. It had been\n slapped together out of sheet metal and insulation board, and it sold,\n fully equipped, for $15,730. It didn't behave like a spaceship, either.\n\n\n As it hurtled down, its speed increased with dramatic swiftness. Then,\n at the last instant before impact, it stopped. Just like that.\n\n\n A moment later, it thumped a last few inches into the ankle-deep grass\n and knee-high white flowers of the meadow. It was a shock of a jar that\n made the sheet-metal walls boom like thunder machines. The flivver\n rocked unsteadily on its flat stern before it decided to stay upright.\n\n\n Then all was quiet—outside.\n\n\n Inside the big, central cabin, Grampa waved his pircuit irately in the\n air. \"Now look what you made me do! Just when I had the blamed thing\n practically whipped, too!\"\nGrampa was a white-haired 90-year-old who could still go a fast round\n or two with a man (or woman) half his age, but he had a habit of\n lapsing into tantrum when he got annoyed.\n\n\n \"Now, Grampa,\" Fred soothed, but his face was concerned. Fred, once\n called Young Fred, was Grampa's only son. He was sixty and his hair had\n begun to gray at the temples. \"That landing was pretty rough, Junior.\"\nJunior was Fred's only son. Because he was thirty-five and capable\n of exercising adult judgment and because he had the youngest adult\n reflexes, he sat in the pilot's chair, the control stick between his\n knees, his thumb still over the Off-On button on top. \"I know it,\n Fred,\" he said, frowning. \"This world fooled me. It has a diameter\n less than that of Mercury and yet a gravitational pull as great as\n Earth.\"\n\n\n Grampa started to say something, but an 8-year-old boy looked up from\n the navigator's table beside the big computer and said, \"Well, gosh,\n Junior, that's why we picked this planet. We fed all the orbital data\n into Abacus, and Abacus said that orbital perturbations indicated that\n the second planet was unusually heavy for its size. Then Fred said,\n 'That looks like heavy metals', and you said, 'Maybe uranium—'\"\n\n\n \"That's enough, Four,\" Junior interrupted. \"Never mind what I said.\"\n\n\n Those were the Peppergrass men, four generations of them, looking\n remarkably alike, although some vital element seemed to have dwindled\n until Four looked pale and thin-faced and wizened.\n\n\n \"And, Four,\" Reba said automatically, \"don't call your father 'Junior.'\n It sounds disrespectful.\"\n\n\n Reba was Four's mother and Junior's wife. On her own, she was a\n red-haired beauty with the loveliest figure this side of Antares. That\n Junior had won her was, to Grampa, the most hopeful thing he had ever\n noticed about the boy.\n\n\n \"But everybody calls Junior 'Junior,'\" Four complained. \"Besides, Fred\n is Junior's father and Junior calls him 'Fred.'\"\n\n\n \"That's different,\" Reba said.\n\n\n Grampa was still waving his puzzle circuit indignantly. \"See!\" The\n pircuit was a flat box equipped with pushbuttons and thirteen slender\n openings in the top. One of the openings was lighted. \"That landing\n made me push the wrong button and the dad-blasted thing beat me again.\"\n\n\n \"Stop picking on Junior,\" Joyce said sharply. She was Junior's mother\n and Fred's wife, still slim and handsome as she approached sixty, but\n somehow ice water had replaced the warm blood in her veins. \"I'm sure\n he did the best he could.\"\n\n\n \"Anybody talks about gravitational pull,\" Grampa said, snorting,\n \"deserves anything anybody could say about him. There's no such thing,\n Junior. You ought to know by now that gravitation is the effect of the\n curving of space-time around matter. Einstein proved that two hundred\n years ago.\"\n\n\n \"Go back to your games, Grampa,\" Fred said impatiently. \"We've got work\n to do.\"\nGrampa knitted his bushy, white eyebrows and petulantly pushed the last\n button on his pircuit. The last light went out. \"You've got work to\n do, have you? Whose flivver do you think this is, anyhow?\"\n\n\n \"It belongs to all of us,\" Four said shrilly. \"You gave us all a sixth\n share.\"\n\n\n \"That's right, Four,\" Grampa muttered, \"so I did. But whose money\n bought it?\"\n\n\n \"You bought it, Grampa,\" Fred said.\n\n\n \"That's right! And who invented the gravity polarizer and the space\n flivver? Eh? Who made possible this gallivanting all over space?\"\n\n\n \"You, Grampa,\" Fred said.\n\n\n \"You bet! And who made one hundred million dollars out of it that the\n rest of you vultures are just hanging around to gobble up when I die?\"\n\n\n \"And who spent it all trying to invent perpetual motion machines and\n longevity pills,\" Joyce said bitterly, \"and fixed it so we'd have to\n go searching for uranium and habitable worlds all through this deadly\n galaxy? You, Grampa!\"\n\n\n \"Well, now,\" Grampa protested, \"I got a little put away yet. You'll be\n sorry when I'm dead and gone.\"\n\n\n \"You're never going to die, Grampa,\" Joyce said harshly. \"Just\n before we left, you bought a hundred-year contract with that\n Life-Begins-At-Ninety longevity company.\"\n\n\n \"Well, now,\" said Grampa, blinking, \"how'd you find out about that?\n Well, now!\" In confusion, he turned back to the pircuit and jabbed a\n button. Thirteen slim lights sprang on. \"I'll get you this time!\"\n\n\n Four stretched and stood up. He looked curiously into the corner by the\n computer where Grampa's chair stood. \"You brought that pircuit from\n Earth, didn't you? What's the game?\"\n\n\n Grampa looked up, obviously relieved to drop his act of intense\n concentration. \"I'll tell you, boy. You play against the pircuit,\n taking turns, and you can put out one, two or three lights. The player\n who makes the other one turn out the last light is the winner.\"\n\n\n \"That's simple,\" Four said without hesitation. \"The winning strategy is\n to—\"\n\n\n \"Don't be a kibitzer!\" Grampa snapped. \"When I need help, I'll ask\n for it. No dad-blamed machine is gonna outthink Grampa!\" He snorted\n indignantly.\nFour shrugged his narrow shoulders and wandered to the view screen.\n Within it was the green horizon, curving noticeably. Four angled the\n picture in toward the ship, sweeping through green, peaceful woodland\n and plain and blue lake until he stared down into the meadow at the\n flivver's stern.\n\n\n \"Look!\" he said suddenly. \"This planet not only has flora—it has\n fauna.\" He rushed to the air lock.\n\n\n \"Four!\" Reba called out warningly.\n\n\n \"It's all right, Reba,\" Four assured her. \"The air is within one per\n cent of Earth-normal and the bio-analyzer can find no micro-organisms\n viable within the Terran spectrum.\"\n\n\n \"What about macro-organisms—\" Reba began, but the boy was gone\n already. Reba's face was troubled. \"That boy!\" she said to Junior.\n \"Sometimes I think we've made a terrible mistake with him. He should\n have friends, play-mates. He's more like a little old man than a boy.\"\n\n\n But Junior nodded meaningfully at Fred and disappeared into the chart\n room. Fred followed casually. Then, as the door slid shut behind him,\n he asked impatiently. \"Well, what's all the mystery?\"\n\n\n \"No use bothering the others yet,\" Junior said, his face puzzled. \"You\n see, I didn't let the flivver drop those last few inches. The polarizer\n quit.\"\n\n\n \"Quit!\"\n\n\n \"That's not the worst. I tried to take it up again. The flivver—it\n won't budge!\"\nThe thing was a featureless blob, a two-foot sphere of raspberry\n gelatin, but it was alive. It rocked back and forth in front of Four.\n It opened a raspberry-color pseudo-mouth and said plaintively, \"Fweep?\n Fweep?\"\n\n\n Joyce drew her chair farther back toward the wall, revulsion on her\n face. \"Four! Get that nasty thing out of here!\"\n\"You mean Fweep?\" Four asked in astonishment.\n\n\n \"I mean that thing, whatever you call it.\" Joyce fluttered her hand\n impatiently. \"Get it out!\"\n\n\n Four's eyes widened farther. \"But Fweep's my friend.\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense!\" Joyce said sharply. \"Earthmen don't make friends with\n aliens. And that's nothing but a—a blob!\"\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" queried the raspberry lips. \"Fweep?\"\n\n\n \"If it's Four's friend,\" Reba said firmly, \"it can stay. If you don't\n like to be around it, Grammy, you can always go to your own room.\"\n\n\n Joyce stood up indignantly. \"Well! And don't call me 'Grammy!' It makes\n me sound as old as that old goat over there!\" She glared malignantly\n at Grampa. \"If you'd rather have that blob than me—well!\" She swept\n grandly out of the central cabin and into one of the private rooms that\n opened out from it.\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" asked the blob.\n\n\n \"Sure,\" Four said. \"Go ahead, fweep—I mean sweep.\"\n\n\n Swiftly the sphere rolled across the floor. Behind it was left a\n narrow path of sparkling clean tile.\n\n\n Grampa glanced warily at Joyce's door to make sure it was completely\n closed and then cocked a white eyebrow at Reba. \"Good for you, Reba!\"\n he said admiringly. \"For forty years now, I've wanted to do that. Never\n had the nerve.\"\n\n\n \"Why, thanks, Grampa,\" Reba said, surprised.\n\n\n \"I like you, gal. Never forget it.\"\n\n\n \"I like you, too, Grampa. If you'd been a few years younger, Junior\n would have had competition!\"\n\n\n \"You bet he would!\" Grampa leaned back and cackled. Then he leaned\n over confidentially toward Reba and whispered, \"Beats me why you ever\n married a jerk like Junior, anyhow.\"\n\n\n Reba looked thoughtfully toward the airlock door. \"Maybe I saw\n something in him nobody else saw, the man he might become. He's been\n submerged in this family too long; he's still a child to all of you\n and to himself, too.\" Reba smiled at Grampa brilliantly. \"And maybe I\n thought he might grow into a man like his grandfather.\"\nGrampa turned red and looked quickly toward Four. The boy was staring\n intently at Fweep. \"What you doing, Four?\"\n\n\n \"Trying to figure out what Fweep does with the sweepings,\" Four said\n absently. \"The outer inch or two of his body gets cloudy and then\n slowly clears. I think I'll try him with a bigger particle.\"\n\n\n \"That's the idea, Four. You'll be a Peppergrass yet. How about building\n me a pircuit?\"\n\n\n \"You get the other one figured out?\"\n\n\n \"It was easy,\" Grampa said breezily, \"once you understood the\n principle. The player who moved second could always win if he used the\n right strategy. Dividing the thirteen lights into three sections of\n four each—\"\n\n\n \"That's right,\" Four agreed. \"I can make you a new one by cannibalizing\n the other pircuit, but I'll need a few extra parts.\"\n\n\n Grampa pushed the wall beside his chair and a drawer slid out of it.\n\n\n Inside were row after row of nipple-topped, flat-sided, flexible\n free-fall bottles and a battered cigar box. \"Thought you'd say that,\"\n he said, picking out the box. \"Help yourself.\" With the other hand, he\n lifted out one of the bottles and took a long drag on it. \"Ahhh!\" he\n sighed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and carefully put\n the bottle away.\n\n\n \"What is that stuff you drink, Grampa?\" Four asked.\n\n\n \"Tonic, boy. Keeps me young and frisky. Now about that pircuit—\"\n\n\n \"Did you ever work on Niccolò Tartaglia's puzzle about the three lovely\n brides, the three jealous husbands, the river and the two-passenger\n rowboat?\"\n\n\n \"Yep,\" Grampa said. \"Too easy.\"\n\n\n Four thought a moment. \"There's a modern variation with three\n missionaries and three cannibals. Same river, same rowboat and only one\n of the cannibals can row. If the cannibals outnumber the missionaries—\"\n\n\n \"Sounds good, boy,\" Grampa said eagerly. \"Whip it up for me.\"\n\n\n \"Okay, Grampa.\" Four looked at Fweep again. The translucent sphere had\n paused at Grampa's feet.\n\n\n Grampa reached down to pat it. For an instant, his hand disappeared\n into Fweep, and then the alien creature rolled away. This time its path\n seemed crooked.\n\n\n Its gelatinous form jiggled. \"Hic!\" it said.\nAs if in response, the flivver vibrated. Grampa looked querulously\n toward the airlock. \"Flivver shouldn't shake like that. Not with the\n polarizer turned on.\"\n\n\n The airlock door swung inward. Through the oval doorway walked Fred,\n followed closely by Junior. They were sweat-stained and weary,\n scintillation counters dangling heavily from their belts.\n\n\n \"Any luck?\" Reba asked brightly.\n\n\n \"Do we look it?\" Junior grumbled.\n\n\n \"Where's Joyce?\" asked Fred. \"Might as well get everybody in on this at\n once. Joyce!\"\n\n\n The door to his wife's room opened instantly. Behind it, Joyce was\n regal and slim. The pose was spoiled immediately by her avid question:\n \"Any uranium? Radium? Thorium?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" Fred said slowly, \"and no other heavy metals, either. There's a\n few low-grade iron deposits and that's it.\"\n\n\n \"Then what makes this planet so heavy?\" Reba asked.\n\n\n Junior shrugged helplessly and collapsed into a chair. \"Your guess is\n as good as anybody's.\"\n\n\n \"Then we've wasted another week on a worthless rock,\" Joyce complained.\n She turned savagely on Fred. \"This was going to make us all filthy\n rich. We were going to find radioactives and retire to Earth like\n billionaires. And all we've done is spent a year of our lives in this\n cramped old flivver—and we don't have many of them to spare!\" She\n glared venomously at Grampa.\n\n\n \"We've still got Fweepland,\" Four said solemnly.\n\n\n \"Fweepland?\" Reba repeated.\n\n\n \"This planet. It's not big, but it's fertile and it's harmless. As\n real estate, it's worth almost as much as if it were solid uranium.\"\n\n\n \"A good thing, too,\" Junior said glumly, \"because this looks like the\n end of our search. Short of a miracle, we'll spend the rest of our\n lives right here—involuntary colonists.\"\n\n\n Joyce spun on him. \"You're joking!\" she screeched.\n\n\n \"I wish I were,\" Junior said. \"But the polarizer won't work. Either\n it's broken or there's something about the gravity around here that\n just won't polarize.\"\n\n\n \"It's these '23 models,\" Grampa put in disgustedly. \"They never were\n any good.\"\nThe land of the Fweep turned slowly on its axis. The orange sun set and\n rose again and stared down once more at the meadow where the improbable\n spaceship rested on its improbable stern. The sixteen Earth hours that\n the rotation had taken had changed nothing inside the ship, either.\n\n\n Grampa looked up from his pircuit and said, \"If I were you, Junior, I\n would take a good look at the TV repairman when we get back to Earth.\nIf\nwe get back to Earth,\" he amended. \"You can't be Four's father.\n All over the Universe, gravity is the same, and if it's gravity, the\n polarizer will polarize it.\"\n\n\n \"That's just supposition,\" Junior said stubbornly. \"The fact is, it\n isn't because it doesn't. Q.E.D.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe the polarizer is broken,\" Fred suggested.\n\n\n Grampa snorted. \"Broken-shmoken. Nothing to break, Young Fred. Just a\n few coils of copper wire and they're all right. We checked. We know\n the power plant is working: the lights are on, the air and water\n recirculation systems are going, the food resynthesizer is okay. And,\n anyway, the polarizer could work from the storage battery if it had to.\"\n\n\n \"Then it goes deeper,\" Junior insisted. \"It goes right to the principle\n of polarization itself. For some reason, it doesn't work here. Why?\n Before we can discover the answer to that, we'll have to know more\n about polarization itself. How does it work, Grampa?\"\n\n\n Grampa gave him a sarcastic grin. \"Now you're curious, eh? Couldn't\n be bothered with Grampa's invention before. Oh, no! Too busy. Accept\n without question the blessings that the Good Lord provideth—\"\n\n\n \"Let's not get up on any pulpits,\" Fred growled. \"Come on, Grampa,\n what's the theory behind polarization?\"\n\n\n Grampa looked at the four faces staring at him hopefully and the\n jeering grin turned to a smile. \"Well,\" he said, \"at last. You know\n how light is polarized, eh?\" The smile faded. \"No, I guess you don't.\"\nHe cleared his throat professorially. \"Well, now, in ordinary light\n the vibrations are perpendicular to the ray in all directions. When\n light is polarized by passing through crystals or by reflection or\n refraction at non-metallic surfaces, the paths of the vibrations are\n still perpendicular to the ray, but they're in straight lines, circles\n or ellipses.\"\n\n\n The faces were still blank and unillumined.\n\n\n \"Gravity is similar to light,\" he pressed on. \"In the absence of\n matter, gravity is non-polarized. Matter polarizes gravity in a circle\n around itself. That's how we've always known it until the invention of\n spaceships and later the polarizer. The polarizer polarizes gravity\n into a straight line. That makes the ship take off and continue\n accelerating until the polarizer is shut off or its angle is shifted.\"\n\n\n The faces looked at him silently. Finally Joyce could endure it no\n longer. \"That's just nonsense! You all know it. Grampa's no genius.\n He's just a tinkerer. One day he happened to tinker out the polarizer.\n He doesn't know how it works any more than I do.\"\n\n\n \"Now wait a minute!\" Grampa protested. \"That's not fair. Maybe\n I didn't figure out the theory myself, but I read everything the\n scientists ever wrote about it. Wanted to know myself what made the\n blamed thing work. What I told you is what the scientists said, near\n as I remember. Now me—I'm like Edison. I do it and let everybody else\n worry over 'why.'\"\n\n\n \"The only thing you ever did was the polarizer,\" Joyce snapped.\n \"And then you spent everything you got from it on those fool\n perpetual-motion machines and those crazy longevity schemes when any\n moron would know they were impossible.\"\n\n\n Grampa squinted at her sagely. \"That's what they said about the gravity\n polarizer before I invented it.\"\n\n\n \"But you don't really know why it works,\" Junior persisted.\n\n\n \"Well, no,\" Grampa admitted. \"Actually I was just fiddling around with\n some coils when one of them took off. Went right through the ceiling,\n dragging a battery behind it. I guess it's still going. Ought to be out\n near the Horsehead Nebula by now. Luckily, I remembered how I'd wound\n it.\"\n\n\n \"Why won't the ship work then, if you know so much?\" Joyce demanded\n ironically.\n\n\n \"Well, now,\" Grampa said in bafflement, \"it rightly should, you know.\"\n\"We're stuck,\" Reba said softly. \"We might as well admit it. All we can\n do is set the transmitter to send out an automatic distress call—\"\n\n\n \"Which,\" Joyce interrupted, \"might get picked up in a few centuries.\"\n\n\n \"And make the best of what we've got,\" Reba went on, unheeding. \"If we\n look at it the right way, it's quite a lot. A beautiful, fertile world.\n Earth gravity. The flivver—even if the polarizer won't work, there's\n the resynthesizer; it will keep us in food and clothes for years. By\n then, we should have a good-sized community built up, because out here\n we won't have to stop with one child. We can have all the babies we\n want.\"\n\n\n \"You know the law: one child per couple,\" Joyce reminded her frigidly.\n \"You can condemn yourself to exile from civilization if you wish. Not\n me.\"\n\n\n Junior frowned at his wife. \"I believe you're actually glad it\n happened.\"\n\n\n \"I could think of worse things,\" Reba said.\n\n\n \"I like your spunk, Reb,\" Grampa muttered.\n\n\n \"Speaking of children,\" Junior said, \"where's Four?\"\n\n\n \"Here.\" Four came through the airlock and trudged across the room,\n carrying a curious contraption made of tripod legs supporting a\n small box from which dangled a plumb bob. Behind Four, like a round,\n raspberry shadow, rolled Fweep.\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" it queried hopefully.\n\n\n \"Not now,\" said Four.\n\n\n \"Where've you been?\" Reba asked anxiously. \"What've you been doing?\"\n\n\n \"I've been all over Fweepland,\" Four said wearily, \"trying to locate\n its center of gravity.\"\n\n\n \"Well?\" Fred prompted.\n\n\n \"It shifts.\"\n\n\n \"That's impossible,\" said Junior.\n\n\n \"Not for Fweep,\" Four replied.\n\n\n \"What do you mean by that?\" Joyce suspiciously asked.\n\n\n \"It shifted,\" Four explained patiently, \"because Fweep kept following\n me.\"\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" Junior repeated stupidly.\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" Fweep said eagerly.\n\n\n \"He's why the flivver won't work. What Grampa invented was a linear\n polarizer. Fweep is a circular polarizer. He's what makes this planet\n so heavy. He's why we can't leave.\"\nThe land of the Fweep rotated once on its axis, and Grampa lowered\n the nippled bottle from his lips. He sighed. \"I got it figured out,\n Four,\" he said, holding out the pircuit proudly. \"A missionary takes\n over a non-rowing type cannibal, leaves him there, and then the rowing\n cannibal takes over the other cannibal and leaves him there and—\"\n\n\n \"Not now, Grampa,\" Four said inattentively as he watched Fweep making\n the grand tour of the cabin.\n\n\n The raspberry sphere swept over a scattering of crumbs, engulfed them,\n absorbed them. Four looked at Joyce. Joyce was watching Fweep, too.\n\n\n \"Rat poison?\" Four asked.\n\n\n Joyce started guiltily. \"How did you know?\"\n\n\n \"There's no use trying to poison Fweep,\" Four said calmly. \"He's got no\n enzymes to act on, no nervous system to paralyze. He doesn't even use\n what he 'eats' on a molecular level at all.\"\n\n\n \"What level does he use?\" Junior wanted to know.\n\n\n \"Point the scintillation counter at him.\"\n\n\n Junior dug one of the counters out of the supply cabinet and aimed the\n pickup at Fweep. The counter began to hum. As Fweep approached, the hum\n rose in pitch. As it passed, the hum dropped.\n\n\n Junior looked at the counter's dial. \"He's radioactive, all right. Not\n much, but enough. But where does he get the radioactive material?\"\n\n\n \"He uses ordinary matter,\" Four said. \"He must have used up the few\n deposits of natural radioactives a long time ago.\"\n\n\n \"He uses ordinary substances on an atomic level?\" Junior said\n unbelievingly.\n\n\n Four nodded. \"And that 'skin' of his—whatever it is he uses for\n skin—is more efficient in stopping particle emissions than several\n feet of lead.\"\n\n\n Fred studied Fweep thoughtfully. \"Maybe we could feed him enough\n enriched uranium from the pile to put him over the critical mass.\"\n\n\n \"And blow him up? I don't think it's possible, but even if it were, it\n might be a trifle more than disastrous for us.\" Four giggled at the\n thought.\nJoyce glared at him furiously. \"Four! Act your age! We've got to do\n something with him. It's preposterous that we should be detained here\n at the whim of a mere blob!\"\n\n\n \"I don't figure it's a whim,\" Grampa said. \"Circular gravity is what\n he's got to have for one reason or another, so he just naturally bends\n the space-time continuum around him—conscious or subconscious, I don't\n know. But protoplasm is always more efficient than machines, so the\n flivver won't move.\"\n\n\n \"I don't care why that thing does it,\" Joyce said icily. \"I want it\n stopped, and the sooner the better. If it won't turn the gravity off,\n we'll just have to do away with it.\"\n\n\n \"How?\" asked Four. \"Fweep's skin is pretty close to impervious and\n you can't shoot him, stab him or poison him. He doesn't breathe, so\n you can't drown or strangle him. You can't imprison him; he 'eats'\n everything. And violence might be more dangerous to us than to him.\n Right now, Fweep is friendly, but suppose he got mad! He could lower\n his radioactive shield or he might increase the gravity by a few times.\n Either way, you'd feel rather uncomfortable, Grammy.\"\n\n\n \"Don't call me 'Grammy!' Well, what are we going to do, just sit around\n and wait for that thing to die?\"\n\n\n \"We'd have a long wait,\" Four observed. \"Fweep is the only one of his\n kind on this planet.\"\n\n\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"Probably he's immortal.\"\n\n\n \"And he doesn't reproduce?\" Reba asked sympathetically.\n\n\n \"Probably not. If he doesn't die, there's no point in reproduction.\n Reproduction is nature's way of providing racial immortality to mortal\n creatures.\"\n\n\n \"But he must have some way of reproduction,\" Reba argued. \"An egg or\n something. He couldn't just have sprung into being as he is now.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe he developed,\" Four offered. \"It seems to me that he's bigger\n than when we first landed.\" \"He must have been here a long, long time,\"\n Fred said. \"Fweepland, as Four calls it, kept its atmosphere and its\n water, which a planet this size ordinarily would have lost by now.\"\nReba looked at Fweep kindly. \"We can thank the little fellow for that,\n anyway.\"\n\n\n \"I thank him for nothing,\" Joyce snapped. \"He lured us down here by\n making us think the planet had heavy metals and I want him to let us go\nimmediately\n!\"\n\n\n Fred turned impatiently on his wife. \"Well, try making him understand!\n And if you can make him understand what you want him to do, try making\n him do it!\"\n\n\n Joyce looked at Fred with startled eyes. \"Fred!\" she said in a high,\n shocked voice and turned blindly toward her room.\n\n\n Grampa lowered his bottle and smacked his lips. \"Well, boy,\" he said to\n Fred, \"I thought you'd never do that. Didn't think you had it in you.\"\n\n\n Fred stood up apologetically. \"I'd better go calm her down,\" he\n muttered, and walked quickly after Joyce.\n\n\n \"Give her one for me!\" Grampa called.\n\n\n Fred's shoulders twitched as the door closed behind him. From the room\n came the filtered sound of high-pitched voices rising and falling like\n some reedy folk music.\n\n\n \"Makes you think, doesn't it?\" Grampa said, looking at Fweep benignly.\n \"Maybe the whole theory of gravitation is cockeyed. Maybe there's a\n Fweep for every planet and sun, big and little, polarizing the gravity\n in circles, and the matter business is not a cause but a result.\"\n\n\n \"What I can't understand,\" Junior said thoughtfully, \"is why the\n polarizer worked for a little while when we landed—long enough to keep\n us from being squashed—and then quit.\"\n\n\n \"Fweep didn't recognize it immediately, didn't know what it was or\n where it came from,\" Four explained. \"All he knew was he didn't like\n linear polarization and he neutralized it as soon as he could. That's\n when we dropped.\"\n\"Linear polarization is uncomfortable for him, is it?\" Grampa said.\n \"Makes you wonder how something like Fweep could ever develop.\"\n\n\n \"He's no more improbable than people,\" said Four.\n\n\n \"Less than some I've known,\" Grampa conceded.\n\n\n \"If he can eat anything,\" Reba said, \"why does he keep sweeping the\n cabin for dust and lint?\"\n\n\n \"He wants to be helpful,\" Four replied without hesitation, \"and he's\n lonely. After all,\" he added wistfully, \"he's never had any friends.\"\n\n\n \"How do you know all these things?\" Joyce asked from her doorway,\n excitement in her voice. \"Can you talk to it?\"\n\n\n Behind her, Fred said, \"Now, Joyce, you promised—\"\n\n\n \"But this is important,\" Joyce cut him off eagerly. \"Can you? Talk to\n it, I mean?\"\n\n\n \"Some,\" Four admitted.\n\n\n \"Have you asked it to let us go?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Well? What did it say?\"\n\n\n \"He said he didn't want his friend to leave him.\"\n\n\n At the word, Fweep rolled swiftly across the floor and bounced into\n Four's lap. It nestled against him lovingly and opened raspberry lips.\n \"Fwiend,\" it said.\n\n\n \"Well, now,\" Grampa said maliciously, his eye on Joyce, \"that's no\n problem. We can just leave Four here with Fweep.\"\n\n\n In a voice filled with sanctimonious concern, Joyce said, \"That's quite\n a sacrifice to ask, but—\"\n\n\n \"Joyce!\" Reba cried, horrified. \"Grampa was joking, but you actually\n mean it. Four is only a baby and yet you'd let him—\"\n\n\n \"Never mind, Reba,\" Four said evenly. \"It was just what I was going to\n suggest myself. It's the one really logical solution.\"\n\n\n \"Fwiend,\" said Fweep gently.\nThe land of the Fweep turned like a fat old man toasting himself in\n front of an open fire, and Junior sat at the computer's keyboard\n swearing in a steady monotone.\n\n\n \"Junior!\" said Joyce, shocked.\n\n\n Junior swung around impatiently. \"Sorry, Mother, but this damned thing\n won't work.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sure that calling it names won't help, and besides, you shouldn't\n expect a machine to do something that we can't do. And if it did work,\n it would only say that the logical answer is the one I sug—\"\n\n\n \"Mother!\" Junior warned. \"We decided not to talk about it any more.\n Four is strange enough without encouraging him to think like a martyr.\n It's out of the question. If that's the only way we can leave this\n planet, we'll stay here until Four has a beard as white as Grampa's!\"\n\n\n \"Well!\" Joyce said in a stiff, offended tone and sat back in her chair.\n\n\n Grampa lowered the nippled bottle from his lips and chortled. \"Junior,\n I apologize for all the mean things I ever said about you. Maybe you\n got the makings of a Peppergrass yet.\"\n\n\n Junior turned back to the keyboard and studied it, his chin in his\n hand. \"It's just a matter of stating the problem in terms the computer\n can work on.\"\n\n\n \"I take it all back,\" said Grampa. \"That computer won't help you with\n this problem, Junior. This ain't a long, complicated calculation; it's\n a simple problem in logic. It's a pircuit problem, like the one about\n the cannibals and the missionaries. We can't leave Fweepland because\n Fweep won't let our polarizer work. He won't let our polarizer work\n because he doesn't like gravity that's polarized in a straight line,\n and he don't want Four to leave him.\n\n\n \"Now Fweep ain't the brightest creature in the Universe, so he can't\n understand why we're so gosh-fired eager to leave. And as long as he's\n got Four, he's happy. Why should he make himself unhappy? As a favor\n to Four, he'd let us leave—if we'd leave Four here with him, which we\n ain't gonna do.\n\n\n \"That's the problem. All we got to do is figure out the answer. No use\n making a pircuit, because a puzzle circuit is just a miniature computer\n with the solution built in; if you can build the pircuit, you've\n already solved the problem. And if you can state the problem to Abacus,\n you've already got the answer. All you want from it then is decimal\n points.\"\n\n\n \"That may be,\" Junior said stubbornly, \"but I still want to know why\n this computer won't work. It won't even do simple arithmetic! Where's\n Four? He's the only one who understands this thing.\"\n\n\n \"He's outside, playing in the meadow with Fweep,\" Reba said, her voice\n soft. \"No, here they come now.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Junior land the ship so roughly?", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_1", "options": ["He was not skilled at his work", "The planet had a variable gravity field", "He kept his thumb on the on-off button", "He didn't pay attention to the scouting data"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "To whom was Grammy married?", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_2", "options": ["Grampa", "Junior", "Fred", "No one"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many people were aboard the ship?", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_3", "options": ["8", "9", "6", "7"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Grampa happy with Reba?", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_4", "options": ["She had a brilliant smile", "She stood up to Joyce", "She liked him", "She wanted Four to be happy"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many rotations does the small planet make in 2 Earth days?", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_5", "options": ["5", "3", "6", "4"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Grampa get rich?", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_6", "options": ["investing in longevity technology", "investing in perpetual motion technology", "inventing space travel technology", "inventing puzzle circuits"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who is most intelligent?", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_7", "options": ["Junior", "Grampa", "Fred", "Four"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who was most in favor of staying on the planet?", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_8", "options": ["Reba", "Grampa", "Four", "Joyce"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Joyce try to poison Fweep?", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_9", "options": ["She was mad at everyone", "She wanted to leave the planet", "She was afraid of his radioactivity", "She was jealous of how much Four liked him"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Grampa suggest leaving Four behind on the planet", "question_unique_id": "49897_QQKS0TK3_10", "options": ["Because he wanted a reaction from Joyce", "Because he thought it was the only way he could go home", "Because Fweep didn't want Four to leave", "Because Four liked Fweep"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/4/9/8/9/49897//49897-h//49897-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51126", "set_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Princess and the Physicist", "year": 1961, "author": "Smith, Evelyn E.", "topic": "PS; Space colonies -- Fiction; Science fiction; Scientists -- Fiction; Extrasolar planets -- Fiction; Gods -- Fiction; Princesses -- Fiction", "article": "The Princess and the Physicist\nBy EVELYN E. SMITH\n\n\n Illustrated by KOSSIN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction June 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nElected a god, Zen the Omnipotent longed\n \nfor supernatural powers—for he was also\n \nZen the All-Put-Upon, a galactic sucker!\nZen the Terrible lay quiescent in the secret retreat which housed his\n corporeal being, all the aspects of his personality wallowing in the\n luxury of a day off. How glad he was that he'd had the forethought to\n stipulate a weekly holiday for himself when first this godhood had\n been thrust upon him, hundreds of centuries before. He'd accepted the\n perquisites of divinity with pleasure then. It was some little time\n before he discovered its drawbacks, and by then it was too late; he had\n become the established church.\n\n\n All the aspects of his personality rested ... save one, that is. And\n that one, stretching out an impalpable tendril of curiosity, brought\n back to his total consciousness the news that a spaceship from Earth\n had arrived when no ship from Earth was due.\nSo what?\nthe total consciousness asked lazily of itself.\nProbably\n they have a large out-of-season order for hajench. My hajench going to\n provide salad bowls for barbarians!\nWhen, twenty years previously, the Earthmen had come back to their\n colony on Uxen after a lapse of thousands of years, Zen had been\n hopeful that they would take some of the Divine Work off his hands.\n After all, since it was they who had originally established the\n colony, it should be their responsibility. But it seemed that all\n humans, not merely the Uxenach, were irresponsible. The Earthmen were\n interested only in trade and tribute. They even refused to believe in\n the existence of Zen, an attitude which he found extremely irritating\n to his ego.\nTrue, Uxen prospered commercially to a mild extent after their return,\n for the local ceramics that had been developed in the long interval\n found wide acceptance throughout the Galaxy, particularly the low bowls\n which had hitherto been used only for burning incense before Zen the\n Formidable.\n\n\n Now every two-bit planet offered hajench in its gift shops.\n\n\n Culturally, though, Uxen had degenerated under the new Earth\n administration. No more criminals were thrown to the skwitch. Xwoosh\n lost its interest when new laws prohibited the ancient custom of\n executing the losing side after each game.\n\n\n There was no tourist trade, for the planet was too far from the rest\n of the Galaxy. The commercial spaceships came only once every three\n months and left the same day. The two destroyers that \"guarded\" the\n planet arrived at rare intervals for fueling or repairs, but the crew\n never had anything to do with the Uxenach. Local ordinance forbade the\n maidens of Uxen to speak to the outlanders, and the outlanders were not\n interested in any of the other native products.\n\n\n But the last commercial spaceship had departed less than three weeks\n before on its regular run, and this was not one of the guard ships.\n\n\n Zen reluctantly conceded to himself that he would have to investigate\n this situation further, if he wanted to retain his reputation for\n omniscience. Sometimes, in an occasional moment of self-doubt, he\n wondered if he weren't too much of a perfectionist, but then he\n rejected the thought as self-sacrilege.\n\n\n Zen dutifully intensified the beam of awareness and returned it to the\n audience chamber where the two strange Earthmen who had come on the\n ship were being ushered into the presence of the king by none other\n than Guj, the venerable prime minister himself.\n\n\n \"Gentlemen,\" Guj beamed, his long white beard vibrating in an excess of\n hospitality, \"His Gracious Majesty will be delighted to receive you at\n once.\"\n\n\n And crossing his wrists in the secular xa, he led the way to where Uxlu\n the Fifteenth was seated in full regalia upon his imposing golden,\n gem-encrusted throne.\n\n\n Uxlu himself, Zen admitted grudgingly, was an imposing sight to anyone\n who didn't know the old yio. The years—for he was a scant decade\n younger than Guj—had merely lent dignity to his handsome features, and\n he was still tall and upright.\n\n\n \"Welcome, Earthlings, to Uxen,\" King Uxlu said in the sonorous tones of\n the practiced public speaker. \"If there is aught we can do to advance\n your comfort whilst you sojourn on our little planet, you have but to\n speak.\"\nHe did not, Zen noted with approval, rashly promise that requests\n would necessarily be granted. Which was fine, because the god well\n knew who the carrier out of requests would be—Zen the Almighty, the\n All-Powerful, the All-Put-Upon....\n\n\n \"Thank you, Your Majesty,\" the older of the two scientists said. \"We\n merely seek a retired spot in which to conduct our researches.\"\n\n\n \"Researches, eh?\" the king repeated with warm interest. \"Are you\n perhaps scientists?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Your Majesty.\" Every one of Zen's perceptors quivered\n expectantly. Earth science was banned on Uxen, with the result that its\n acquisition had become the golden dream of every Uxena, including, of\n course, their god.\n\n\n The older scientist gave a stiff bow. \"I am an anthropologist. My\n name is Kendrick, Professor Alpheus Kendrick. My assistant, Dr. Peter\n Hammond—\" he indicated the tall young man with him—\"is a physicist.\"\nThe king and the prime minister conferred together in whispers. Zen\n wished he could join them, but he couldn't materialize on that plane\n without incense, and he preferred his subjects not to know that he\n could be invisibly present, especially on his day off. Of course, his\n Immaterial Omnipresence was a part of the accepted dogma, but there is\n a big difference between accepting a concept on a basis of faith or of\n proven fact.\n\n\n \"Curious researches,\" the king said, emerging from the conference,\n \"that require both physics\nand\nanthropology.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" said Kendrick. \"They are rather involved at that.\" Peter Hammond\n shuffled his feet.\n\n\n \"Perhaps some of our technicians might be of assistance to you,\" the\n king suggested. \"They may not have your science, but they are very\n adept with their hands....\"\n\n\n \"Our researches are rather limited in scope,\" Kendrick assured him. \"We\n can do everything needful quite adequately ourselves. All we need is a\n place in which to do it.\"\n\n\n \"You shall have our own second-best palace,\" the king said graciously.\n \"It has both hot and cold water laid on, as well as central heating.\"\n\n\n \"We've brought along our own collapsible laboratory-dwelling,\" Kendrick\n explained. \"We just want a spot to set it up.\"\n\n\n Uxlu sighed. \"The royal parks are at your disposal. You will\n undoubtedly require servants?\"\n\n\n \"We have a robot, thanks.\"\n\n\n \"A robot is a mechanical man who does all our housework,\" Hammond, more\n courteous than his superior, explained. Zen wondered how he could ever\n have felt a moment's uneasiness concerning these wonderful strangers.\n\n\n \"Zen will be interested to hear of this,\" the prime minister said\n cannily. He and the king nodded at one another.\n\n\n \"\nWho\ndid you say?\" Kendrick asked eagerly.\n\n\n \"Zen the Terrible,\" the king repeated, \"Zen the All-Powerful, Zen the\n Encyclopedic. Surely you have heard of him?\" he asked in some surprise.\n \"He's Uxen's own particular, personal and private god, exclusive to our\n planet.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, of course I've heard about him,\" Kendrick said, trembling\n with hardly repressed excitement.\nWhat a correct attitude!\nZen thought.\nOne rarely finds such\n religious respect among foreigners.\n\"In fact, I've heard a great deal about him and I should like to know\n even more!\" Kendrick spoke almost reverently.\n\n\n \"He\nis\nan extremely interesting divinity,\" the king replied\n complacently. \"And if your robot cannot teleport or requires a hand\n with the heavy work, do not hesitate to call on Zen the Accommodating.\n We'll detail a priest to summon—\"\n\n\n \"The robot manages very well all by itself, thank you,\" Kendrick said\n quickly.\nIn his hideaway, the material body of Zen breathed a vast multiple sigh\n of relief. He was getting to like these Earthmen more and more by the\n minute.\n\n\n \"Might I inquire,\" the king asked, \"into the nature of your researches?\"\n\n\n \"An investigation of the prevalent nuclear ritual beliefs on Uxen in\n relation to the over-all matrix of social culture, and we really must\n get along and see to the unloading of the ship. Good-by, Your\n Majesty ... Your Excellency.\" And Kendrick dragged his protesting aide\n off.\n\n\n \"If only,\" said the king, \"I were still an absolute monarch, I would\n teach these Earthlings some manners.\" His face grew wistful. \"Well I\n remember how my father would have those who crossed him torn apart by\n wild skwitch.\"\n\n\n \"If you did have the Earthlings torn apart by wild skwitch, Sire,\" Guj\n pointed out, \"then you would certainly never be able to obtain any\n information from them.\"\nUxlu sighed. \"I would merely have them torn apart a little—just enough\n so that they would answer a few civil questions.\" He sighed again.\n \"And, supposing they did happen to—er—pass on, in the process, think\n of the tremendous lift to my ego. But nobody thinks of the king's ego\n any more these days.\"\n\n\n No, things were not what they had been since the time the planet had\n been retrieved by the Earthlings. They had not communicated with Uxen\n for so many hundreds of years, they had explained, because, after a\n more than ordinarily disastrous war, they had lost the secret of space\n travel for centuries.\n\n\n Now, wanting to make amends for those long years of neglect, they\n immediately provided that the Earth language and the Earth income tax\n become mandatory upon Uxen. The language was taught by recordings.\n Since the Uxenach were a highly intelligent people, they had all\n learned it quickly and forgotten most of their native tongue except for\n a few untranslatable concepts.\n\n\n \"Must be a new secret atomic weapon they're working on,\" Uxlu decided.\n \"Why else should they come to such a remote corner of the Galaxy? And\n you will recall that the older one—Kendrick—said something about\n nuclear beliefs. If only we could discover what it is, secure it for\n ourselves, perhaps we could defeat the Earthmen, drive them away—\" he\n sighed for the third time that morning—\"and rule the planet ourselves.\"\nJust then the crown princess Iximi entered the throne room. Iximi\n really lived up to her title of Most Fair and Exalted, for centuries\n of selective breeding under which the kings of Uxen had seized the\n loveliest women of the planet for their wives had resulted in an\n outstanding pulchritude. Her hair was as golden as the ripe fruit that\n bent the boughs of the iolo tree, and her eyes were bluer than the uriz\n stones on the belt girdling her slender waist. Reproductions of the\n famous portrait of her which hung in the great hall of the palace were\n very popular on calendars.\n\n\n \"My father grieves,\" she observed, making the secular xa. \"Pray tell\n your unworthy daughter what sorrow racks your noble bosom.\"\n\n\n \"Uxen is a backwash,\" her father mourned. \"A planet forgotten, while\n the rest of the Galaxy goes by. Our ego has reached its nadir.\"\n\n\n \"Why did you let yourself be conquered?\" the princess retorted\n scornfully. \"Ah, had I been old enough to speak then, matters would be\n very different today!\" Although she seemed too beautiful to be endowed\n with brains, Iximi had been graduated from the Royal University with\n high honors.\n\n\n Zen the Erudite was particularly fond of her, for she had been his best\n student in Advanced Theology. She was, moreover, an ardent patriot and\n leader of the underground Moolai (free) Uxen movement, with which Zen\n was more or less in sympathy, since he felt Uxen belonged to him and\n not to the Earthlings. After all, he had been there first.\n\n\n \"\nLet\nourselves be conquered!\" Her father's voice rose to a squeak.\n \"\nLet\nourselves! Nobody asked us—we\nwere\nconquered.\"\n\n\n \"True, but we could at least have essayed our strength against the\n conquerors instead of capitulating like yioch. We could have fought to\n the last man!\"\n\n\n \"A woman is always ready to fight to the last man,\" Guj commented.\n\n\n \"Did you hear that, ancient and revered parent! He called me, a\n princess of the blood, a—a woman!\"\n\n\n \"We are all equal before Zen,\" Guj said sententiously, making the high\n xa.\n\n\n \"Praise Zen,\" Uxlu and Iximi chanted perfunctorily, bowing low.\n\n\n Iximi, still angry, ordered Guj—who was also high priest—to start\n services. Kindling the incense in the hajen, he began the chant.\n\n\n Of course it was his holiday, but Zen couldn't resist the appeal of\n the incense. Besides he was there anyway, so it was really no trouble,\nno trouble\n, he thought, greedily sniffing the delicious aroma,\nat\n all\n. He materialized a head with seven nostrils so that he was able to\n inhale the incense in one delectable gulp. Then, \"No prayers answered\n on Thursday,\" he said, and disappeared. That would show them!\n\n\n \"Drat Zen and his days off!\" The princess was in a fury. \"Very well,\n we'll manage without Zen the Spiteful. Now, precisely what is troubling\n you, worthy and undeservedly Honored Parent?\"\n\n\n \"Those two scientists who arrived from Earth. Didn't you meet them\n when you came in?\"\n\n\n \"No, Respected Father,\" she said, sitting on the arm of the throne. \"I\n must have just missed them. What are they like?\"\nHe told her what they were like in terms not even a monarch should use\n before his daughter. \"And these squuch,\" he concluded, \"are undoubtedly\n working on a secret weapon. If we had it, we could free Uxen.\"\n\n\n \"Moolai Uxen!\" the princess shouted, standing up. \"My friends, must we\n continue to submit to the yoke of the tyrant? Arise. Smite the....\"\n\n\n \"Anyone,\" said Guj, \"can make a speech.\"\n\n\n The princess sat on the steps of the throne and pondered. \"Obviously we\n must introduce a spy into their household to learn their science and\n turn it to our advantage.\"\n\n\n \"They are very careful, those Earthlings,\" Guj informed her\n superciliously. \"It is obvious that they do not intend to let any of us\n come near them.\"\n\n\n The princess gave a knowing smile. \"But they undoubtedly will need at\n least one menial to care for their dwelling. I shall be that menial. I,\n Iximi, will so demean myself for the sake of my planet! Moolai Uxen!\"\n\n\n \"You cannot do it, Iximi,\" her father said, distressed. \"You must not\n defile yourself so. I will not hear of it!\"\n\n\n \"And besides,\" Guj interposed, \"they will need no servants. All their\n housework is to be done by their robot—a mechanical man that performs\n all menial duties. And you, Your Royal Highness, could not plausibly\n disguise yourself as a machine.\"\n\n\n \"No-o-o-o, I expect not.\" The princess hugged the rosy knees\n revealed by her brief tunic and thought aloud, \"But ... just ...\n supposing ... something ... went wrong with the robot.... They do\n not possess another?\"\n\n\n \"They referred only to one, Highness,\" Guj replied reluctantly. \"But\n they may have the parts with which to construct another.\"\n\n\n \"Nonetheless, it is well worth the attempt,\" the princess declared.\n \"You will cast a spell on the robot, Guj, so that it stops.\"\n\n\n He sighed. \"Very well, Your Highness; I suppose I could manage that!\"\n\n\n Making the secular xa, he left the royal pair. Outside, his voice could\n be heard bellowing in the anteroom, \"Has any one of you squuch seen my\n pliers?\"\n\n\n \"There is no need for worry, Venerated Ancestor,\" the princess assured\n the monarch. \"All-Helpful Zen will aid me with my tasks.\"\n\n\n Far away in his arcane retreat, the divinity groaned to himself.\nAnother aspect of Zen's personality followed the two Earthmen as they\n left the palace to supervise the erection of their prefab by the crew\n of the spaceship in one of the Royal Parks. A vast crowd of Uxenach\n gathered to watch the novelty, and among them there presently appeared\n a sinister-looking old man with a red beard, whom Zen the Pansophic had\n no difficulty in recognizing as the prime minister, heavily disguised.\n Of course it would have been no trouble for Zen to carry out Guj's\n mission for him, but he believed in self-help—especially on Thursdays.\n\n\n \"You certainly fixed us up fine!\" Hammond muttered disrespectfully to\n the professor. \"You should've told the king we were inventing a vacuum\n cleaner or something. Now they'll just be more curious than ever....\n And I still don't see why you refused the priest. Seems to me he'd be\n just what you needed.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, and the first to catch on to why we're here. We mustn't\n antagonize the natives; these closed groups are so apt to resent any\n investigation into their mythos.\"\n\n\n \"If it's all mythical, why do you need a scientist then?\"\n\n\n \"A physical scientist, you mean,\" Kendrick said austerely. \"For\n anthropology is a science, too, you know.\"\n\n\n Peter snorted.\n\n\n \"Some Earthmen claim actually to have seen these alleged\n manifestations,\" Kendrick went on to explain, \"in which case there must\n be some kind of mechanical trickery involved—which is where you come\n in. Of course I would have preferred an engineer to help me, but you\n were all I could get from the government.\"\n\n\n \"And you wouldn't have got me either, if the Minister of Science didn't\n have it in for me!\" Peter said irately. \"I'm far too good for this\n piddling little job, and you know it. If it weren't for envy in high\n places—\"\n\n\n \"Better watch out,\" the professor warned, \"or the Minister might decide\n you're too good for science altogether, and you'll be switched to a\n position more in keeping with your talents—say, as a Refuse Removal\n Agent.\"\nAnd what is wrong with the honored art of Refuse Removal?\nZen\n wondered. There were a lot of mystifying things about these Earthmen.\nThe scientists' quaint little edifice was finally set up, and the\n spaceship took its departure. It was only then that the Earthmen\n discovered that something they called cigarettes couldn't be found in\n the welter of packages, and that the robot wouldn't cook dinner or, in\n fact, do anything.\nGood old Guj\n, Zen thought.\n\n\n \"I can't figure out what's gone wrong,\" Peter complained, as he\n finished putting the mechanical man together again. \"Everything seems\n to be all right, and yet the damned thing won't function.\"\n\n\n \"Looks as if we'll have to do the housework ourselves, confound it!\"\n\n\n \"Uh-uh,\" Peter said. \"You can, but not me. The Earth government put me\n under your orders so far as this project is concerned, sir, but I'm not\n supposed to do anything degrading, sir, and menial work is classified\n as just that, sir, so—\"\n\n\n \"All right, all\nright\n!\" Kendrick said. \"Though it seems to me if\nI'm\nwilling to do it,\nyou\nshould have no objection.\"\n\n\n \"It's your project, sir. I gathered from the king, though,\" Peter\n added more helpfully, \"that some of the natives still do menial labor\n themselves.\"\n\n\n \"How disgusting that there should still be a planet so backward that\n human beings should be forced to do humiliating tasks,\" Kendrick said.\nYou don't know the half of it, either\n, Zen thought, shocked all the\n way back to his physical being. It had never occurred to him that the\n functions of gods on other planets might be different than on Uxen ...\n unless the Earthlings failed to pay reverence to their own gods, which\n seemed unlikely in view of the respectful way with which Professor\n Kendrick had greeted the mention of Zen's Awe-Inspiring Name. Then\n Refuse Removal was not necessarily a divine prerogative.\nThose first colonists were very clever\n, Zen thought bitterly,\nsweet-talking me into becoming a god and doing all their dirty work.\n I was happy here as the Only Inhabitant; why did I ever let those\n interlopers involve me in Theolatry? But I can't quit now. The Uxenach\n need Me ... and I need incense; I'm fettered by my own weakness. Still,\n I have the glimmerings of an idea....\n\"Oh, how much could a half-witted menial find out?\" Peter demanded.\n \"Remember, it's either a native servant, sir, or you do the housework\n yourself.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" Kendrick agreed gloomily. \"We'll try one of the natives.\"\nSo the next day, still attended by the Unseen Presence of Zen, they\n sought audience with the prime minister.\n\n\n \"Welcome, Earthmen, to the humble apartments of His Majesty's most\n unimportant subject,\" Guj greeted them, making a very small xa as he\n led them into the largest reception room.\n\n\n Kendrick absently ran his finger over the undercarving of a small gold\n table. \"Look, no dust,\" he whispered. \"Must have excellent help here.\"\n\n\n Zen couldn't help preening just a bit. At least he did his work well;\n no one could gainsay that.\n\n\n \"Your desire,\" Guj went on, apparently anxious to get to the point, \"is\n my command. Would you like a rojh of dancing girls to perform before\n you or—?\"\n\n\n \"The king said something yesterday about servants being available,\"\n Kendrick interrupted. \"And our robot seems to have broken down. Could\n you tell us where we could get someone to do our housework?\"\n\n\n An expression of vivid pleasure illuminated the prime minister's\n venerable countenance. \"By fortunate chance, gentlemen, a small lot of\n maids is to be auctioned off at a village very near the Imperial City\n tomorrow. I should be delighted to escort you there personally.\"\n\n\n \"Auctioned?\" Kendrick repeated. \"You mean they\nsell\nservants here?\"\n\n\n Guj raised his snowy eyebrows. \"Sold? Certainly not; they are leased\n for two years apiece. After all, if you have no lease, what guarantee\n do you have that your servants will stay after you have trained them?\n None whatsoever.\"\n\n\n When the two scientists had gone, Iximi emerged from behind a\n bright-colored tapestry depicting Zen in seven hundred and fifty-three\n of his Attributes.\n\n\n \"The younger one is not at all bad-looking,\" she commented, patting her\n hair into place. \"I do like big blond men. Perhaps my task will not be\n as unpleasant as I fancied.\"\n\n\n Guj stroked his beard. \"How do you know the Earthlings will select\nyou\n, Your Highness? Many other maids will be auctioned off at the\n same time.\"\n\n\n The princess stiffened angrily. \"They'll pick me or they'll never leave\n Uxen alive and you, Your Excellency, would not outlive them.\"\nAlthough it meant he had to overwork the other aspects of his multiple\n personality, Zen kept one free so that the next day he could join\n the Earthmen—in spirit, that was—on their excursion in search of a\n menial.\n\n\n \"If, as an anthropologist, you are interested in local folkways,\n Professor,\" Guj remarked graciously, as he and the scientists piled\n into a scarlet, boat-shaped vehicle, \"you will find much to attract\n your attention in this quaint little planet of ours.\"\n\n\n \"Are the eyes painted on front of the car to ward off demons?\" Kendrick\n asked.\n\n\n \"Car? Oh, you mean the yio!\" Guj patted the forepart of the vehicle.\n It purred and fluttered long eyelashes. \"We breed an especially bouncy\n strain with seats; they're so much more comfortable, you know.\"\n\n\n \"You mean this is a\nlive\nanimal?\"\n\n\n Guj nodded apologetically. \"Of course it does not go very fast. Now if\n we had the atomic power drive, such as your spaceships have—\"\n\n\n \"You'd shoot right off into space,\" Hammond assured him.\n\n\n \"Speed,\" said Kendrick, \"is the curse of modern civilization. Be glad\n you still retain some of the old-fashioned graces here on Uxen. You\n see,\" he whispered to his assistant, \"a clear case of magico-religious\n culture-freezing, resulting in a static society unable to advance\n itself, comes of its implicit reliance upon the powers of an omnipotent\n deity.\"\n\n\n Zen took some time to figure this out.\nBut that's right!\nhe\n concluded, in surprise.\n\n\n \"I thought your god teleported things?\" Peter asked Guj. \"How come he\n doesn't teleport you around, if you're in such a hurry to go places?\"\n\n\n Kendrick glared at him. \"Please remember that I'm the anthropologist,\"\n he hissed. \"You have got to know how to describe the Transcendental\n Personality with the proper respect.\"\n\n\n \"We don't have Zen teleport animate objects,\" the prime minister\n explained affably. \"Or even inanimate ones if they are fragile.\n For He tends to lose His Temper sometimes when He feels that He is\n overworked—\"\nFeels, indeed!\nZen said to himself—\"and throws things\n about. We cannot reprove Him for His misbehavior. After all, a god is a\n god.\"\n\n\n \"The apparent irreverence,\" Kendrick explained in an undertone,\n \"undoubtedly signifies that he is dealing with ancillary or, perhaps,\n peripheral religious beliefs. I must make a note of them.\" He did so.\nBy the time the royal yio had arrived at the village where the\n planetary auctions for domestics were held, the maids were already\n arranged in a row on the platform. Most were depressingly plain\n creatures and dressed in thick sacklike tunics. Among them, the\n graceful form of Iximi was conspicuous, clad in a garment similar in\n cut but fashioned of translucent gauze almost as blue as her eyes.\n\n\n Peter straightened his tie and assumed a much more cheerful expression.\n \"Let's rent\nthat one\n!\" he exclaimed, pointing to the princess.\n\"Nonsense!\" Kendrick told him. \"In the first place, she is obviously\n the most expensive model. Secondly, she would be too distracting\n for you. And, finally, a pretty girl is never as good a worker as a\n plain.... We'll take that one.\" The professor pointed to the dumpiest\n and oldest of the women. \"How much should I offer to start, Your\n Excellency? No sense beginning the bidding too high. We Earthmen aren't\n made of money, in spite of what the rest of the Galaxy seems to think.\"\n\n\n \"A hundred credits is standard,\" Guj murmured. \"However, sir, there is\n one problem—have you considered how you are going to communicate with\n your maid?\"\n\n\n \"Communicate? Are they mutes?\"\n\n\n \"No, but very few of these women speak Earth.\" A look of surprise\n flitted over the faces of the servants, vanishing as her royal highness\n glared at them.\n\n\n Kendrick pursed thin lips. \"I was under the impression that the Earth\n language was mandatory on Uxen.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, it is; it is, indeed!\" Guj said hastily. \"However, it is so\n hard to teach these backward peasants new ways.\" One of the backward\n peasants gave a loud sniff, which changed to a squeal as she was\n honored with a pinch from the hand of royalty. \"But you will not betray\n us? We are making rapid advances and before long we hope to make Earth\n universal.\"\n\n\n \"Of course we won't,\" Peter put in, before Kendrick had a chance to\n reply. \"What's more, I don't see why the Uxenians shouldn't be allowed\n to speak their own language.\"\n\n\n The princess gave him a dazzling smile. \"Moolai Uxen! We must not allow\n the beautiful Uxulk tongue to fall into desuetude. Bring back our\n lovely language!\"\n\n\n Guj gestured desperately. She tossed her head, but stopped.\n\n\n \"Please, Kendrick,\" Peter begged, \"we've got to buy that one!\"\n\n\n \"Certainly not. You can see she's a troublemaker. Do you speak Earth?\"\n the professor demanded of the maid he had chosen.\n\n\n \"No speak,\" she replied.\n\n\n Peter tugged at his superior's sleeve. \"That one speaks Earth.\"\n\n\n Kendrick shook him off. \"Do you speak Earth?\" he demanded of the second\n oldest and ugliest. She shook her head. The others went through the\n same procedure.\n\n\n \"It looks,\" Peter said, grinning, \"as if we'll have to take mine.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose so,\" Kendrick agreed gloomily, \"but somehow I feel no good\n will come of this.\"\n\n\n Zen wondered whether Earthmen had powers of precognition.\n\n\n No one bid against them, so they took a two-year lease on the crown\n princess for the very reasonable price of a hundred credits, and drove\n her home with them.\n\n\n Iximi gazed at the little prefab with disfavor. \"But why are we halting\n outside this gluu hutch, masters?\"\n\n\n Guj cleared his throat. \"Sirs, I wish you joy.\" He made the secular xa.\n \"Should you ever be in need again, do not hesitate to get in touch with\n me at the palace.\" And, climbing into the yio, he was off.\nThe others entered the small dwelling. \"That little trip certainly gave\n me an appetite,\" Kendrick said, rubbing his hands together. \"Iximi, you\n had better start lunch right away. This is the kitchen.\"\n\n\n Iximi gazed around the cubicle with disfavor. \"Truly it is not much,\"\n she observed. \"However, masters, if you will leave me, I shall endeavor\n to do my poor best.\"\n\n\n \"Let me show you—\" Peter began, but Kendrick interrupted.\n\n\n \"Leave the girl alone, Hammond. She must be able to cook, if she's a\n professional servant. We've wasted the whole morning as it is; maybe we\n can get something done before lunch.\"\n\n\n Iximi closed the door, got out her portable altar—all members of the\n royal family were qualified members of the priesthood, though they\n seldom practiced—and in a low voice, for the door and walls were\n thin, summoned Zen the All-Capable.\n\n\n The god sighed as he materialized his head. \"I might have known you\n would require Me. What is your will, oh Most Fair?\"\n\n\n \"I have been ordered to prepare the strangers' midday repast, oh\n Puissant One, and I know not what to do with all this ukh, which they\n assure me is their food.\" And she pointed scornfully to the cans and\n jars and packages.\n\n\n \"How should\nI\nknow then?\" Zen asked unguardedly.\n\n\n The princess looked at him. \"Surely Zen the All-Knowing jests?\"\n\n\n \"Er—yes. Merely having My Bit of Fun, you know.\" He hastily inspected\n the exterior of the alleged foods. \"There appear to be legends\n inscribed upon the containers. Perchance, were we to read them, they\n might give a clue as to their contents.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Omniscent One,\" the princess exclaimed, \"truly You are Wise and\n Sapient indeed, and it is I who was the fool to have doubted for so\n much as an instant.\"\n\n\n \"Oh you doubted, did you?\" Terrible Zen frowned terribly. \"Well, see\n that it doesn't happen again.\" He had no intention of losing his divine\n authority at this stage of the game.\n\n\n \"Your Will is mine, All-Wise One. And I think You had best materialize\n a few pair of arms as well as Your August and Awe-inspiring\n Countenance, for there is much work to be done.\"\nSince the partitions were thin, Zen and the princess could hear most of\n the conversation in the main room. \"... First thing to do,\" Kendrick's\n voice remarked, \"is find out whether we're permitted to attend one\n of their religious ceremonies, where Zen is said to manifest himself\n actually and not, it is contended, just symbolically....\"\n\n\n \"The stove is here, Almighty,\" the princess suggested, \"not against the\n door where you are pressing Your Divine Ear.\"\n\n\n \"Shhh. What I hear is fraught with import for the future of the planet.\n Moolai Uxen.\"\n\n\n \"Moolai Uxen,\" the princess replied automatically.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many titles does Zen have? Choose the one best answer.", "question_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS_1", "options": ["More than eight", "More than five", "More than ten", "More than a dozen"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which best describes Zen's powers?", "question_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS_2", "options": ["He can only mentally or visibly show up when incense is burned", "He can only visibly travel and is never present only mentally", "He can mentally travel any time but can only visibly show up when incense is burned", "He can mentally and visibly show up anywhere he wants any time"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the physicist and anthropologist travel to Uxen?", "question_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS_3", "options": ["Because they needed a quiet place for research", "Because they wanted to study Zen", "Because they wanted to work on nuclear warfare research", "Because science was banned on Earth"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the king offer the scientists a palace and servants?", "question_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS_4", "options": ["He had to do whatever Earth men told him to", "He wanted Zen to be able to help with their research", "He wanted to spy on their research", "He knew they were religious men"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was the king not a dictator the way his dad had been?", "question_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS_5", "options": ["The presence of people from Earth forced him to be more civilized against his will", "He didn't like the way his dad had been such a barbarian", "He was only the second king the people had ever had", "He was too young to be strict"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What best describes the princess?", "question_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS_6", "options": ["She was beautiful and strongwilled, but not smart", "She was beautiful, smart, and submissive", "She was beautiful, smart, and strongwilled", "She was beautiful and submissive, but not smart"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the word squuch mean?", "question_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS_7", "options": ["It is an honorable term for people", "It is a term for foreigners", "It is a degrading term for people", "It is a term for scientists"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following was not one of Zen's duties as a god?", "question_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS_8", "options": ["Transporting objects", "helping with any request that was accompanied by incense", "helping the people of Uxen for thousands of years", "garbage collection"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the princess have trouble completing her duties as a servant?", "question_unique_id": "51126_FCNHD3SS_9", "options": ["She did not want to work for the men", "Zen refused to help her", "She did not know how to read", "She had never cooked Earth food before"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/1/2/51126//51126-h//51126-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "51350", "set_unique_id": "51350_MZ3KCERV", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "No Substitutions", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Short stories; Psychological fiction; Science fiction; Prisons -- Fiction; PS", "article": "NO SUBSTITUTIONS\nBy JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by JOHNSON\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine November 1958.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nIf it was happening to him, all right, he could\n \ntake that ... but what if he was happening to it?\nPutting people painlessly to sleep is really a depressing job. It\n keeps me awake at night thinking of all those bodies I have sent to\n the vaults, and it interferes to a marked extent with my digestion. I\n thought before Councilman Coleman came to see me that there wasn't much\n that could bother me worse.\n\n\n Coleman came in the morning before I was really ready to face the\n day. My nerves were fairly well shot from the kind of work I did as\n superintendent of Dreamland. I chewed up my pill to calm me down,\n the one to pep me up, the capsule to strengthen my qualities as a\n relentless perfectionist. I washed them down with gin and orange\n juice and sat back, building up my fortitude to do business over the\n polished deck of my desk.\n\n\n But instead of the usual morning run of hysterical relatives and\n masochistic mystics, I had to face one of my superiors from the\n Committee itself.\n\n\n Councilman Coleman was an impressive figure in a tailored black tunic.\n His olive features were set off by bristling black eyes and a mobile\n mustache. He probably scared most people, but not me. Authority doesn't\n frighten me any more. I've put to sleep too many megalomaniacs,\n dictators, and civil servants.\n\n\n \"Warden Walker, I've been following your career with considerable\n interest,\" Coleman said.\n\n\n \"My career hasn't been very long, sir,\" I said modestly. I didn't\n mention that\nnobody\ncould last that long in my job. At least, none\n had yet.\n\n\n \"I've followed it from the first. I know every step you've made.\"\n\n\n I didn't know whether to be flattered or apprehensive. \"That's fine,\" I\n said. It didn't sound right.\n\n\n \"Tell me,\" Coleman said, crossing his legs, \"what do you think of\n Dreamland in principle?\"\n\n\n \"Why, it's the logical step forward in penal servitude. Man has been\n heading toward this since he first started civilizing himself. After\n all, some criminals\ncan't\nbe helped psychiatrically. We can't execute\n them or turn them free; we have to imprison them.\"\n\n\n I waited for Coleman's reaction. He merely nodded.\n\n\n \"Of course, it's barbaric to think of a prison as a place of\n punishment,\" I continued. \"A prison is a place to keep a criminal away\n from society for a specific time so he can't harm that society for that\n time. Punishment, rehabilitation, all of it is secondary to that. The\n purpose of confinement is confinement.\"\nThe councilman edged forward an inch. \"And you really think Dreamland\n is the most humane confinement possible?\"\n\n\n \"Well,\" I hedged, \"it's the most humane we've found yet. I suppose\n living through a—uh—movie with full sensory participation for year\n after year can get boring.\"\n\n\n \"I should think so,\" Coleman said emphatically. \"Warden, don't you\n sometimes feel the old system where the prisoners had the diversions\n of riots, solitary confinement, television, and jailbreaks may have\n made time easier to serve? Do these men ever think they are\nactually\nliving these vicarious adventures?\"\n\n\n That was a question that made all of us in the Dreamland service\n uneasy. \"No, Councilman, they don't. They know they aren't really\n Alexander of Macedonia, Tarzan, Casanova, or Buffalo Bill. They are\n conscious of all the time that is being spent out of their real lives;\n they know they have relatives and friends outside the dream. They know,\n unless—\"\n\n\n Coleman lifted a dark eyebrow above a black iris. \"Unless?\"\n\n\n I cleared my throat. \"Unless they go mad and really believe the dream\n they are living. But as you know, sir, the rate of madness among\n Dreamland inmates is only slightly above the norm for the population as\n a whole.\"\n\n\n \"How do prisoners like that adjust to reality?\"\n\n\n Was he deliberately trying to ask tough questions? \"They don't. They\n think they are having some kind of delusion. Many of them become\n schizoid and pretend to go along with reality while secretly 'knowing'\n it to be a lie.\"\n\n\n Coleman removed a pocket secretary and broke it open. \"About these new\n free-choice models—do you think they genuinely are an improvement over\n the old fixed-image machines?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" I replied. \"By letting the prisoner project his own\n imagination onto the sense tapes and giving him a limited amount of\n alternatives to a situation, we can observe whether he is conforming to\n society to a larger extent.\"\n\n\n \"I'm glad you said that, Walker,\" Councilman Coleman told me warmly.\n \"As I said, I've been following your career closely, and if you\n get through the next twenty-four-hour period as you have through\n the foregoing part of your Dream, you will be awakened at this time\n tomorrow. Congratulations!\"\n\n\n I sat there and took it.\n\n\n He was telling\nme\n, the superintendent of Dreamland, that my own\n life here was only a Dream such as I fed to my own prisoners. It was\n unbelievably absurd, a queasy little joke of some kind. But I didn't\n deny it.\nIf it\nwere\ntrue, if I had forgotten that everything that happened was\n only a Dream, and if I admitted it, the councilman would know I was\n mad.\nIt couldn't be true.\nYet—\n\n\n Hadn't I thought about it ever since I had been appointed warden and\n transferred from my personnel job at the plant?\n\n\n Whenever I had come upon two people talking, and it seemed as if I had\n come upon those same two people talking the same talk before, hadn't I\n wondered for an instant if it couldn't be a Dream, not reality at all?\n\n\n Once I had experienced a Dream for five or ten minutes. I was driving\n a ground car down a spidery road made into a dismal tunnel by weeping\n trees, a dank, lavender maze. I had known at the time it was a Dream,\n but still, as the moments passed, I became more intent on the\n difficult road before me, my blocky hands on the steering wheel, thick\n fingers typing out the pattern of motion on the drive buttons.\n\n\n I could remember that. Maybe I couldn't remember being shoved into the\n prison vault for so many years for such and such a crime.\n\n\n I didn't really believe this, not then, but I couldn't afford to make\n a mistake, even if it were only some sort of intemperate test—as I\n was confident it was, with a sweet, throbbing fury against the man who\n would employ such a jagged broadsword for prying in his bureaucratic\n majesty.\n\n\n \"I've always thought,\" I said, \"that it would be a good idea to show\n a prisoner what the modern penal system was all about by giving him a\n Dream in which he dreamed about Dreamland itself.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, indeed,\" Coleman concurred. Just that and no more.\n\n\n I leaned intimately across my beautiful oak desk. \"I've thought that\n projecting officials into the Dream and letting them talk with the\n prisoners might be a more effective form of investigation than mere\n observation.\"\n\n\n \"I should say so,\" Coleman remarked, and got up.\n\n\n I\nhad\nto get more out of him, some proof, some clue beyond the\n preposterous announcement he had made.\n\n\n \"I'll see you tomorrow at this time then, Walker.\" The councilman\n nodded curtly and turned to leave my office.\n\n\n I held onto the sides of my desk to keep from diving over and teaching\n him to change his concept of humor.\n\n\n The day was starting. If I got through it, giving a good show, I would\n be released from my Dream, he had said smugly.\n\n\n But if this was a dream, did I want probation to reality?\nHorbit was a twitchy little man whose business tunic was the same\n rodent color as his hair. He had a pronounced tic in his left cheek. \"I\n have to get back,\" he told me with compelling earnestness.\n\n\n \"Mr. Horbit—Eddie—\" I said, glancing at his file projected on my desk\n pad, \"I can't put you back into a Dream. You served your full time for\n your crime. The maximum.\"\n\n\n \"But I haven't adjusted to society!\"\n\n\n \"Eddie, I can shorten sentences, but I can't expand them beyond the\n limit set by the courts.\"\n\n\n A tear of frustration spilled out of his left eye with the next twitch.\n \"But Warden, sir, my psychiatrist said that I was unable to cope with\n reality. Come on now, Warden, you don't want a guy who can't cope with\n reality running around loose.\" He paused, puzzled. \"Hell, I don't\n know why I can't express myself like I used to.\"\n\n\n He could express himself much better in his Dream. He had been Abraham\n Lincoln in his Dream, I saw. He had lived the life right up to the\n night when he was taking in\nAn American Cousin\nat the Ford Theater.\n Horbit couldn't accept history that he had no more life to live. He\n only knew that if in his delirium he could gain Dreamland once more, he\n could get back to the hard realities of dealing with the problems of\n Reconstruction.\n\n\n \"\nPlease\n,\" he begged.\n\n\n I looked up from the file. \"I'm sorry, Eddie.\"\n\n\n His eyes narrowed, both of them, on the next twitch. \"Warden, I can\n always go out and commit another anti-social act.\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid not, Eddie. The file shows you are capable of only one\n crime. And you don't have a wife any more, and she doesn't have a\n lover.\"\n\n\n Horbit laughed. \"Your files aren't infallible, Warden.\"\n\n\n With one gesture, he ripped open his tunic and tore into his own flesh.\n No, not his own flesh. Pseudo-flesh. He took out the gun that was\n underneath.\n\n\n \"The beamer is made of X-ray-transparent plastic, Warden, but it works\n as well as one made of steel and lead.\"\n\n\n \"Now that you've got it in here,\" I said in time with the pulse in my\n throat, \"what are you going to do with it?\"\n\n\n \"I'm going to make you go down to the vaults and put me back to sleep,\n Warden.\"\n\n\n I nodded. \"I suppose you can do that. But what's to prevent me from\n waking you up as soon as I've taken away your gun?\"\n\n\n \"This!\" He tossed a sheet of paper onto my desk.\n\n\n \"What's this?\" I asked unnecessarily. I could read it.\n\n\n \"A confession that you accepted a bribe to put me back to sleep,\"\n Horbit said, his tic beating out a feverish tempo. \"As soon as you've\n signed it, I'll use your phone to have it telefaxed to the Registrar of\n Private Documents.\"\n\n\n I had to admire the thought behind the idea. Horbit was convinced that\n I was only a figment of his unfocused imagination, but he was playing\n the game with uncompromising logic, trusting that even madness had hard\n and tight rules behind it.\n\n\n There was also something else I admired about the plan.\n\n\n It could work.\n\n\n Once he fed that document to the archives, I would be obligated to help\n him even without the gun. My word would probably be taken that I had\n been forced to do it at gunpoint, but there would always be doubts,\n enough to wreck my career when it came time for promotion.\n\n\n Nothing like this had ever happened in my years as warden.\nSuddenly, Coleman's words hit me in the back of the neck.\nIf I got\n through the next twenty-four hours.\nThis had to be some kind of test.\n\n\n But a test for what?\n\n\n Had I been deliberately told that I was living only a Dream to see\n if my ethics would hold up even when I thought I wasn't dealing with\n reality?\n\n\n Or if this\nwas\nonly a Dream, was it a test to see if I was morally\n ready to return to the real, the earnest world?\n\n\n But if it was a test to see if I was ready for reality, did I want to\n pass it? My life was nerve-racking and mind-wrecking, but I liked the\n challenge—it was the only life I knew or could believe in.\n\n\n What was I going to do?\n\n\n The only thing I knew was that I couldn't tune in tomorrow and find out.\n\n\n The time was\nnow\n.\n\n\n Horbit motioned the gun to my desk set. \"Sign that paper.\"\n\n\n I reached out and took hold of his wrist. I squeezed.\n\n\n Horbit's screams brought in the guards.\n\n\n I picked up the gun from where he had dropped it and handed it to\n Captain Keller, my head guard, a tough old bird who wore his uniform\n like armor.\n\n\n \"Trying to force his way back to the sleep tanks,\" I told Keller.\n\n\n He nodded. \"Happened before. Back when old man Preston lost his grip.\"\n\n\n Preston had been my predecessor. He had lost his hold on reality like\n all the others before him who had served long as warden of Dreamland.\n A few had quit while they were still ahead and spent the rest of their\n lives recuperating. Our society didn't produce individuals tough enough\n to stand the strain of putting their fellow human beings to sleep for\n long.\n\n\n One of Keller's men had stabbed Horbit's arm with a hypospray to\n blanket the pain from his broken wrist, and the man was quieter.\n\n\n \"I couldn't have done it, Warden,\" Horbit mumbled drowsily. \"I couldn't\n kill anybody. Unless it was like that other time.\"\n\n\n \"Of course, Eddie,\" I said.\n\n\n I had banked on that, hadn't I, when I made my move?\n\n\n Or did I?\n\n\n Wasn't it perhaps a matter of knowing that all of it wasn't real and\n that the safety cutoffs in even a free-choice model of a Dream Machine\n couldn't let me come to any real harm? I had been suspiciously brave,\n disarming a dedicated maniac. With only an hour to spare for gym a day,\n I could barely press 350 pounds. I was hardly in shape for personal\n combat.\n\n\n On the other hand, maybe I actually wanted something to go wrong so my\n sleep sentence would be extended. Or was it that, in some sane part of\n my mind, I wanted release from unreality badly enough to take any risk\n to prove that I was morally capable of returning to the real world?\n\n\n It was a carrousel and I couldn't catch the brass ring no matter how\n many turns I went spinning through.\n\n\n I hardly heard Horbit when he half-shouted at me as my men led him from\n the room. Glancing up sharply, I saw him straining purposefully against\n the bonds of muscle and narcotic that held him.\n\"You have to send me back now, Warden,\" he was shrilling. \"You have to!\n I tried to coerce you with a gun. That's a crime, Warden—you\nknow\nthat's a crime! I have to be put to sleep!\"\n\n\n Keller flicked his mustache with a thick thumbnail. \"How about that?\n You won't let a guy back into the sleepy-bye pads, so he pulls a gun\n on you to make you, and\nthat\nmakes him eligible. He couldn't lose,\n Warden. No, sir, he had it made.\"\n\n\n My answer to Keller was forming, building up in my jaw muscles, but I\n took a pill and it went away.\n\n\n \"Hold him in the detention quarters,\" I said finally. \"I'm going to\n make a study of this.\"\n\n\n Keller winked knowingly and sauntered out of the office, his left hand\n swinging the blackjack the Committee had taken away from him a decade\n before.\n\n\n The problem of what to do with Keller wasn't particularly atypical of\n the ones I had to solve daily and I wasn't going to let that worry me.\n Much.\n\n\n I pressed my button to let Mrs. Engle know I was ready for the next\n interview.\nThey came. There were the hysterical relatives, the wives and mothers\n and brothers who demanded that their kin be Awakened because they were\n special cases, not really guilty, or needed at home, or possessed of\n such awesome talents and qualities as to be exempt from the laws of\n lesser men.\n\n\n Once in a while I granted a parole for a prisoner to see a dying mother\n or if some important project was falling apart without his help, but\n most of the time I just sat with my eyes propped open, letting a sea of\n vindictive screeching and beseeching wailings wash around me.\n\n\n The relatives and legal talent were spaced with hungry-eyed mystics\n who were convinced they could contemplate God and their navels\n both conscientiously as an incarnation of Gautama. To risk sounding\n religiously intolerant, I usually kicked these out pretty swiftly.\n\n\n The onetime inmate who wanted back in after a reprieve was fairly rare.\n Few of them ever got\nthat\ncrazy.\n\n\n But it was my luck to get another the same day,\nthe\nday for me, as\n Horbit.\n\n\n Paulson was a tall, lean man with sad eyes. The clock above his sharp\n shoulder bone said five till noon. I didn't expect him to take much out\n of my lunch hour.\n\n\n \"Warden,\" Paulson said, \"I've decided to give myself up. I murdered a\n blind beggar the other night.\"\n\n\n \"For his pencils?\" I asked.\n\n\n Paulson shifted uneasily. \"No, sir. For his money. I needed some extra\n cash and I was stronger than he was, so why shouldn't I take it?\"\n\n\n I examined the projection of his file. He was an embezzler, not a\n violent man. He had served his time and been released. Conceivably he\n might embezzle again, but the Committee saw to it that temptation was\n never again placed in his path. He would not commit a crime of violence.\n\n\n \"Look, Paulson,\" I said, a trifle testily, \"if you have so little\n conscience as to kill a blind old man for a few dollars, where do you\n suddenly get enough guilt feelings to cause you to give yourself up?\"\n\n\n Paulson tried his insufficient best to smile evilly. \"It wasn't\n conscience, Warden. I never lie awake a minute whenever I kill\n anybody. It's just—well, Dreaming isn't so bad. Last time I was Allen\n Pinkerton, the detective. It was exciting. A lot more exciting than the\n kind of life I lead.\"\n\n\n I nodded solemnly. \"Yes, no doubt strangling old men in the streets can\n be pretty dull for a red-blooded man of action.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Paulson said earnestly, \"it does get to be a humdrum routine.\n I've been experimenting with all sorts of murders, but I just don't\n seem to get much of a kick out of them now. I'd like to try it from the\n other end as Pinkerton again. Of course, if you can't arrange it, I\n guess I'll have to go out and see what I can do with, say, an ax.\" His\n eye glittered almost convincingly.\n\n\n \"Paulson, you know I could have you watched night and day if I thought\n you really were a murderer. But I can't send you back to the sleep\n vaults without proof and conviction for a crime.\"\n\n\n \"That doesn't sound very reasonable,\" Paulson objected. \"Turning loose\n a homicidal maniac who is offering to go back to the vaults of his own\n free will just because you lack a little trifling proof of his guilt.\"\n\n\n \"Sure,\" I told him, \"but I don't want to share the same noose with you.\n My job is to keep the innocent out and the convicted in. And I do my\n job, Paulson.\"\n\n\n \"But you have to! If you don't, I'll have to go out and establish my\n guilt with another crime. Do you want a crime on your hands, Warden?\"\n\n\n I studied his record. There was a chance, just a chance....\n\n\n \"Do you want to wait voluntarily in the detention quarters?\" I asked\n him.\n\n\n He agreed readily enough.\n\n\n I watched him out of the office and rang for lunch.\n\n\n The news on the wall video was dull as usual. A man got tired of\n hearing peace, safety, prosperity and brotherly love all the time. I\n dug into my strained spinach, raw hamburger, and chewed up my white\n pill, my red pill, my ebony pill, and my second white pill. The gin and\n tomato juice took the taste away.\n\n\n I was ready for the afternoon session.\nMatrons were finishing the messy job of dragging a hysterical woman\n out of the office when Keller came back. He had a stubborn look on his\n flattened, red face.\n\n\n \"New prisoner asking to see you personal,\" Keller reported. \"Told him\n no. Okay?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" I said. \"He can see me. That's the law and you know it. He\n isn't violent, is he?\" I asked in some concern. The room was still in\n disarray.\n\n\n \"Naw, he ain't violent, Warden. He just thinks he's somebody important.\"\n\n\n \"Sounds like a case for therapy, not Dreamland. Who does he think he\n is?\"\n\n\n \"One of the Committee—Councilman Coleman.\"\n\n\n \"Mm-hmm. And who is he really, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"Councilman Coleman.\"\n\n\n I whistled. \"What did they nail him on?\"\n\n\n \"Misuse of authority.\"\n\n\n \"And he didn't get a suspended for that?\"\n\n\n \"Wasn't his first offense. Still want to see him?\"\n\n\n I gave a lateral wave of my hand. \"Of course.\"\n\n\n My pattern of living—call it my office routine—had been\n re-established through the day. I hadn't had a chance to brood much\n over the bombshell Coleman had tossed in my lap in the morning, but now\n I could think.\n\n\n Coleman entered wearing the same black tunic, the same superior\n attitude. His black eyes fastened on me.\n\n\n \"Sit down, Councilman,\" I directed.\n\n\n He deigned to comply.\n\n\n I studied the files flashed before me. Several times before, Coleman\n had been guilty of slight misuses of his authority: helping his\n friends, harming his enemies. Not enough to make him be impeached\n from the Committee. His job was so hypersensitive that if every\n transgression earned dismissal, no one could hold the position more\n than a day. Even with the best intentions, mistakes can be taken for\n deliberate errors. Not to mention the converse. For his earlier errors,\n Coleman had first received a suspended sentence, then two terminal\n sentences to be fixed by the warden. My predecessors had given him\n first a few weeks, then a few months of sleep in Dreamland.\nColeman's eyes didn't frighten me; I focused right on the pupils. \"That\n was a pretty foul trick, Councilman. Did you hope to somehow frighten\n me out of executing this sentence by what you told me this morning?\"\n\n\n I couldn't follow his reasoning. Just how making me think my life was\n only a Dream such as I imposed on my own prisoners could help him, I\n couldn't see.\n\n\n \"Warden Walker,\" Coleman intoned in his magnificent voice, \"I'm\n shocked.\nI\nam not personally monitoring your Dream. The Committee as\n a whole will decide whether you are capable of returning to the real\n world. Moreover, please don't get carried away. I'm not concerned with\n what you do to this sensory projection of myself, beyond how it helps\n to establish your moral capabilities.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose,\" I said heavily, \"that I could best establish my high moral\n character by excusing you from this penal sentence?\"\n\n\n \"Not at all,\" Councilman Coleman asserted. \"According to the facts as\n you know them, I am 'guilty' and must be confined.\"\n\n\n I was stymied for an instant. I had expected him to say that I must\n know that he was incapable of committing such an error and I must\n pardon him despite the misguided rulings of the courts. Then I thought\n of something else.\n\n\n \"You show symptoms of being a habitual criminal, Coleman. I think you\n deserve\nlife\n.\"\n\n\n Coleman cocked his head thoughtfully, concerned. \"That seems rather\n extreme, Warden.\"\n\n\n \"You would suggest a shorter sentence?\"\n\n\n \"If it were my place to choose, yes. A few years, perhaps. But\n life—no, I think not.\"\n\n\n I threw up my hands. You don't often see somebody do that, but I did.\n I couldn't figure him. Coleman had wealth and power as a councilman\n in the real world, but I had thought somehow he wanted to escape to a\n Dream world. Yet he didn't want to be in for life, the way Paulson and\n Horbit did.\n\n\n There seemed to be no point or profit in what he had told me that\n morning, nothing in it for him.\n\n\n Unless—\n\n\n Unless what he said was literally true.\n\n\n I stood up. My knees wanted to quit halfway up, but I made it. \"This,\"\n I said, \"is a difficult decision for me, sir. Would you make yourself\n comfortable here for a time, Councilman?\"\n\n\n Coleman smiled benignly. \"Certainly, Warden.\"\n\n\n I walked out of my office, slowly and carefully.\nHorbit was sitting in his detention quarters idly flicking through\n a book tape on the Civil War when I found him. The tic in his cheek\n marked time with every new page.\n\n\n \"President Lincoln,\" I said reverently.\n\n\n Horbit looked up, his eyes set in a clever new way. \"\nYou\ncall me\n that. Does it mean I am recovering? You don't mean now that I'm getting\n back my right senses?\"\n\n\n \"Mr. President, the situation you find yourself in now is something\n stranger and more evil than any madness. I am not a phantom of your\n mind—I am a\nreal\nman. This wild, distorted place is a\nreal\nplace.\"\n\n\n \"Do you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, you scamp? Mine eyes\n have seen the glory.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\" I sat down beside him and looked earnestly into his\n twitching face. \"But I know you have always believed in the occult.\"\n\n\n He nodded slowly. \"I\nhave\noften suspected this was hell.\"\n\n\n \"Not quite, sir. The occult has its own rigid laws. It is perfectly\n scientific. This world is in another dimension—one that is not length,\n breadth or thickness—but a real one nevertheless.\"\n\n\n \"An interesting theory. Go ahead.\"\n\n\n \"This world is more scientifically advanced than the one you come\n from—and this advanced science has fallen into the hands of a\n well-meaning despot.\"\n\n\n Horbit nodded again. \"The Jefferson Davis type.\"\n\n\n He didn't understand Lincoln's beliefs very well, but I pretended to\n go along with him. \"Yes, sir. He—our leader—doubts your abilities as\n President. He is not above meddling in the affairs of an alien world\n if he believes he is doing good. He has convicted you to this world in\n that belief.\"\n\n\n He chuckled. \"Many of my countrymen share his convictions.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe,\" I said. \"But many here do not. I don't. I know you must return\n to guide the Reconstruction. But first you must convince our leader of\n your worth.\"\n\n\n \"How am I going to accomplish that?\" Horbit asked worriedly.\n\n\n \"You are going to have a companion from now on, an agent of the leader,\n who will pretend to be something he isn't. You must pretend to believe\n in what he claims to be, and convince him of your high intelligence,\n moral responsibilities, and qualities of leadership.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Horbit said thoughtfully, \"yes. I must try to curb my tendency\n for telling off-color jokes. My wife is always nagging me about that.\"\nPaulson was only a few doors away from Horbit. I found him with his\n long, thin legs stretched out in front of him, staring dismally into\n the gloom of the room. No wonder he found reality so boring and\n depressing with so downbeat a mood cycle. I wondered why they hadn't\n been able to do something about adjusting his metabolism.\n\n\n \"Paulson,\" I said gently, \"I want to speak with you.\"\n\n\n He bolted upright in his chair. \"You're going to put me back to sleep.\"\n\n\n \"I came to talk to you about that,\" I admitted.\n\n\n I pulled up a seat and adjusted the lighting so only his face and mine\n seemed to float bodiless in a sea of night, two moons of flesh.\n\n\n \"Paulson—or should I call you Pinkerton?—this will come as a shock, a\n shock I know only a fine analytical mind like yours could stand. You\n think your life as the great detective was only a Dream induced by some\n miraculous machine. But, sir, believe me: that life was\nreal\n.\"\n\n\n Paulson's eyes rolled slightly back into his head and changed their\n luster. \"Then\nthis\nis the Dream. I've thought—\"\n\n\n \"No!\" I snapped. \"This world is also real.\"\n\n\n I went through the same Fourth Dimension waltz as I had auditioned for\n Horbit. At the end of it, Paulson was nodding just as eagerly.\n\n\n \"I could be destroyed for telling you this, but our leader is planning\n the most gigantic conquest known to any intelligent race in the\n Universe. He is going to conquer Earth in all its possible futures and\n all its possible pasts. After that, there are other planets.\"\n\n\n \"He must be stopped!\" Paulson shouted.\n\n\n I laid my palm on his arm. \"Armies can't stop him, nor can fantastic\n secret weapons. Only one thing can stop him: the greatest detective who\n ever lived. Pinkerton!\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Paulson said. \"I suppose I could.\"\n\n\n \"He knows that. But he's a fiend. He wants a battle of wits with you,\n his only possible foe, for the satisfaction of making a fool of you.\"\n\n\n \"Easier said than done, my friend,\" Paulson said crisply.\n\n\n \"True,\" I agreed, \"but he is devious, the devil! He plans to convince\n you that he also has been removed to this world from his own, even as\n you have. He will claim to be Abraham Lincoln.\"\n\n\n \"No!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, and he will pretend to find you accidentally and get you to help\n him find a way back to his own world, glorying in making a fool of you.\n But you can use every moment to learn his every weakness.\"\n\n\n \"But wait. I know President Lincoln well. I guarded him on his first\n inauguration trip. How could this leader of yours fool me? Does he look\n like the President?\"\n\n\n \"Not at all. But remember, the dimensional shift changes physical\n appearance. You've noticed that in yourself.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, of course,\" Paulson muttered. \"But he couldn't hoax me. My keen\n powers of deduction would have seen through him in an instant!\"\nI saw Horbit and Paulson happily off in each other's company. Paulson\n was no longer bored by a reality in which he was matching wits with\n the first master criminal of the paratime universe, and Horbit was no\n longer hopeless in his quest to gain another reality because he knew\n he was not merely insane now.\n\n\n It was a pair of fantastic stories that no man in his right mind would\n believe—but that didn't make them invalid to a brace of ex-Sleepers.\n They\nwanted\nto believe them. The stories gave them what they were\n after—without me having to break the law and put them to sleep for\n crimes they hadn't committed.\n\n\n They would find out some day that I had lied to them, but maybe by that\n time they would have realized this world wasn't so bad.\n\n\n Fortunately, I was confident from their psych records that they were\n both incapable of ending their little game by homicide, no matter how\n justified they might think it was.\n\n\n \"Hey, Warden,\" Captain Keller bellowed as I approached my office\n door, \"when are you going to let me throw that stiff Coleman into the\n sleepy-bye vaults? He's still sitting in there on your furniture as\n smug as you please.\"\n\n\n \"You don't sound as if you like our distinguished visitor very well,\" I\n remarked.\n\n\n \"It's not that. I just don't think he deserves any special privileges.\n Besides, it was guys like him that took away our nightsticks. My boys\n didn't like that. Look at me—I'm defenseless!\"\n\n\n I looked at his square figure. \"Not quite, Captain, not quite.\"\n\n\n Now was the time.\n\n\n I stretched out my wet palm toward the door.\n\n\n Was or was not Coleman telling the truth when he said this life of mine\n was itself only a Dream? If it was, did I want to finish my last day\n with the right decision so I could return to some alien reality? Or did\n I deliberately want to make a mistake so I could continue living the\n opiate of my Dream?\n\n\n Then, as I touched the door, I knew the only decision that could have\n any meaning for me.\n\n\n Councilman Coleman didn't look as if he had moved since I had left him.\n He was unwrinkled, unperspiring, his eyes and mustache crisp as ever.\n He smiled at me briefly in supreme confidence.\n\n\n I changed my decision then, in that moment. And, in the next, changed\n it back to my original choice.\n\n\n \"Coleman,\" I said, \"you can get out of here. As warden, I'm granting\n you a five-year probation.\"\n\n\n The councilman stood up swiftly, his eyes catching little sparks\n of yellow light. \"I don't approve of your decision, Warden. Not at\n all. Unless you alter it, I'll be forced to convince the rest of the\n Committee that your decisions are becoming faulty, that you are losing\n your grip just as all your predecessors did.\"\n\n\n My muscles relaxed in a spasm and it took the fresh flow of adrenalin\n to get me to the chair behind my desk. I took a pill. I took two pills.\n\n\n \"Tell me, Councilman, what happened to the offer to release me from\n this phony Dream? Now you are talking as if\nthis\nworld was the\nreal\none.\"\n\n\n Coleman parted his lips, but then the planes of his face shifted into\n another pattern. \"You never believed me.\"\n\n\n \"Almost, but not quite. You knew I was on the narrow edge in this kind\n of job, but I'm not as far out as you seemed to have thought.\"\n\n\n \"I can still wreck your career, you know.\"\n\n\n \"I don't think so. That would constitute a misuse of authority, and\n the next time you turn up before me, I'm going to give you\nlife\nin\n Dreamland.\"\n\n\n Coleman sat back down suddenly.\n\n\n \"You don't want life as a Sleeper, do you?\" I pursued. \"You did want\n a relatively\nshort\nsentence of a few months or a few years. I can\n think of two reasons why. The answer is probably a combination of\n both. In the first place, you are a joy-popper with Dreams—you don't\n want to live out your life in one, but you like a brief Dream every\n few years like an occasional dose of a narcotic. In the second place,\n you probably have political reasons for wanting to hide out somewhere\n in safety for the next few years. The world isn't as placid as the\n newscasts sometimes make it seem.\"\nHe didn't say anything. I didn't think he had to.\n\n\n \"You wanted to make sure I made a painfully scrupulous decision in\n your case,\" I went on. \"You didn't want me to pardon you completely\n because of your high position, but at the same time you didn't want too\n long a sentence. But I'm doing you no favors. You get no time from me,\n Coleman.\"\n\n\n \"How did you decide to do this?\" he asked. \"Don't tell me you never\n doubted. We've all doubted since we found out about the machines: which\n was real and which was the Dream? How did you decide to risk this?\"\n\n\n \"I acted the only way I could act,\" I said. \"I decided I had to act as\n if my life was real and that you were lying. I decided that because, if\n all this were false, if I could have no more confidence in my own mind\n and my own senses than that, I didn't give a damn if it\nwere\nall a\n Dream.\"\n\n\n Coleman stood up and walked out of my office.\n\n\n The clock told me it was after five. I began clearing my desk.\n\n\n Captain Keller stuck his head in, unannounced. \"Hey, Warden, there's an\n active one out here. He claims that Dreamland compromises His plan for\n the Free Will of the Universe.\"\n\n\n \"Well, escort him inside, Captain,\" I said.\n\n\n I put away my pills. Solving simple problems such as the new visitor\n presented always helped me to relax.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Was the warden in a dream instead of real life?", "question_unique_id": "51350_MZ3KCERV_1", "options": ["We never find out ", "Yes, and he never figured it out", "Yes, but he figured that out", "No"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was the warden worried about answering Coleman's question?", "question_unique_id": "51350_MZ3KCERV_2", "options": ["He was afraid of people in positions of authority", "He had not been at his job very long", "He was worried Coleman would disapprove of his answer", "Coleman was an impressive figure"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What happens after people leave Dreamland?", "question_unique_id": "51350_MZ3KCERV_3", "options": ["Most of them go crazy", "They never leave", "Some of them think reality is fake", "They all go back to their normal lives well-adjusted"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What power did the warden not have?", "question_unique_id": "51350_MZ3KCERV_4", "options": ["Put people into dreams", "Make sentences longer", "Keep innocent people out of incarceration", "Make sentences shorter"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did the warden enjoy about his life?", "question_unique_id": "51350_MZ3KCERV_5", "options": ["Taking his pills", "Being challenged", "Being responsible to his supervisors", "Putting people to sleep"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What happens to people who serve as wardens?", "question_unique_id": "51350_MZ3KCERV_6", "options": ["All of them must serve until they are removed from office", "Some of them retire before they go crazy", "Only some of them find it stressful", "All of them go crazy"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the warden handle the 2 men who wanted back into Dreamland?", "question_unique_id": "51350_MZ3KCERV_7", "options": ["He kept them both in detention indefinitely", "He only let one go back in", "He put them together to keep each other occupied", "He let both of them go back in"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Coleman tell the warden he was in a dream?", "question_unique_id": "51350_MZ3KCERV_8", "options": ["He wanted to be in a dream forever", "He wanted to never be put in a dream", "He wanted him to know the truth", "He liked being in dreams for short periods of time"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "50948", "set_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Of All Possible Worlds", "year": 1965, "author": "Tenn, William", "topic": "Time travel -- Fiction; Short stories; Science fiction; PS", "article": "Of All Possible Worlds\nBy WILLIAM TENN\n\n\n Illustrated by GAUGHAN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction December 1956.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nChanging the world is simple; the trick is\n \nto do it before you have a chance to undo it!\nIt was a good job and Max Alben knew whom he had to thank for it—his\n great-grandfather.\n\n\n \"Good old Giovanni Albeni,\" he muttered as he hurried into the\n laboratory slightly ahead of the escorting technicians, all of them,\n despite the excitement of the moment, remembering to bob their heads\n deferentially at the half-dozen full-fleshed and hard-faced men\n lolling on the couches that had been set up around the time machine.\n\n\n He shrugged rapidly out of his rags, as he had been instructed in the\n anteroom, and stepped into the housing of the enormous mechanism.\n This was the first time he had seen it, since he had been taught\n how to operate it on a dummy model, and now he stared at the great\n transparent coils and the susurrating energy bubble with much respect.\n\n\n This machine, the pride and the hope of 2089, was something almost\n outside his powers of comprehension. But Max Alben knew how to run it,\n and he knew, roughly, what it was supposed to accomplish. He knew also\n that this was the first backward journey of any great duration and,\n being scientifically unpredictable, might well be the death of him.\n\n\n \"Good old Giovanni Albeni,\" he muttered again affectionately.\n\n\n If his great-grandfather had not volunteered for the earliest\n time-travel experiments way back in the nineteen-seventies, back even\n before the Blight, it would never have been discovered that he and his\n seed possessed a great deal of immunity to extra-temporal blackout.\n\n\n And if that had not been discovered, the ruling powers of Earth, more\n than a century later, would never have plucked Max Alben out of an\n obscure civil-service job as a relief guard at the North American\n Chicken Reservation to his present heroic and remunerative eminence.\n He would still be patrolling the barbed wire that surrounded the three\n white leghorn hens and two roosters—about one-sixth of the known\n livestock wealth of the Western Hemisphere—thoroughly content with\n the half-pail of dried apricots he received each and every payday.\n\n\n No, if his great-grandfather had not demonstrated long ago his unique\n capacity for remaining conscious during time travel, Max Alben would\n not now be shifting from foot to foot in a physics laboratory,\n facing the black market kings of the world and awaiting their final\n instructions with an uncertain and submissive grin.\nMen like O'Hara, who controlled mushrooms, Levney, the blackberry\n tycoon, Sorgasso, the packaged-worm monopolist—would black marketeers\n of their tremendous stature so much as waste a glance on someone like\n Alben ordinarily, let alone confer a lifetime pension on his wife and\n five children of a full spoonful each of non-synthetic sugar a day?\n\n\n Even if he didn't come back, his family was provided for like almost no\n other family on Earth. This was a damn good job and he was lucky.\n\n\n Alben noticed that Abd Sadha had risen from the straight chair at\n the far side of the room and was approaching him with a sealed metal\n cylinder in one hand.\n\n\n \"We've decided to add a further precaution at the last moment,\" the old\n man said. \"That is, the scientists have suggested it and I have—er—I\n have given my approval.\"\n\n\n The last remark was added with a slight questioning note as the\n Secretary-General of the United Nations looked back rapidly at the\n black market princes on the couches behind him. Since they stared back\n stonily, but offered no objection, he coughed in relief and returned to\n Alben.\n\n\n \"I am sure, young man, that I don't have to go into the details of your\n instructions once more. You enter the time machine and go back the\n duration for which it has been preset, a hundred and thirteen years, to\n the moment after the Guided Missile of 1976 was launched. It\nis\n1976,\n isn't it?\" he asked, suddenly uncertain.\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" one of the technicians standing by the time machine said\n respectfully. \"The experiment with an atomic warhead guided missile\n that resulted in the Blight was conducted on this site on April 18,\n 1976.\" He glanced proudly at the unemotional men on the couches, very\n much like a small boy after completing a recitation before visiting\n dignitaries from the Board of Education.\n\n\n \"Just so.\" Abd Sadha nodded. \"April 18, 1976. And on this site. You\n see, young man, you will materialize at the very moment and on the\n very spot where the remote-control station handling the missile\n was—er—handling the missile. You will be in a superb position, a\n superb position, to deflect the missile in its downward course and\n alter human history for the better. Very much for the better. Yes.\"\n\n\n He paused, having evidently stumbled out of his thought sequence.\n\n\n \"And he pulls the red switch toward him,\" Gomez, the dandelion-root\n magnate, reminded him sharply, impatiently.\n\n\n \"Ah, yes, the red switch. He pulls the little red switch toward him.\n Thank you, Mr. Gomez, thank you very much, sir. He pulls the little\n red switch on the green instrument panel toward him, thus preventing\n the error that caused the missile to explode in the Brazilian jungle\n and causing it, instead, to explode somewhere in the mid-Pacific, as\n originally planned.\"\n\n\n The Secretary-General of the United Nations beamed. \"Thus preventing\n the Blight, making it nonexistent, as it were, producing a present-day\n world in which the Blight never occurred. That is correct, is it not,\n gentlemen?\" he asked, turning anxiously again.\nNone of the half-dozen men on couches deigned to answer him. And\n Alben kept his eyes deferentially in their direction, too, as he had\n throughout this period of last-minute instruction.\n\n\n He knew who ruled his world—these stolid, well-fed men in clean\n garments with a minimum of patches, and where patches occurred, at\n least they were the color of the surrounding cloth.\n\n\n Sadha might be Secretary-General of the United Nations, but that\n was still a civil-service job, only a few social notches higher\n than a chicken guard. His clothes were fully as ragged, fully as\n multi-colored, as those that Alben had stepped out of. And the gnawing\n in his stomach was no doubt almost as great.\n\n\n \"You understand, do you not, young man, that if anything goes wrong,\"\n Abd Sadha asked, his head nodding tremulously and anticipating the\n answer, \"if anything unexpected, unprepared-for, occurs, you are not to\n continue with the experiment but return immediately?\"\n\n\n \"He understands everything he has to understand,\" Gomez told him.\n \"Let's get this thing moving.\"\n\n\n The old man smiled again. \"Yes. Of course, Mr. Gomez.\" He came up to\n where Alben stood in the entrance of the time machine and handed the\n sealed metal cylinder to him. \"This is the precaution the scientists\n have just added. When you arrive at your destination, just before\n materializing, you will release it into the surrounding temporal\n medium. Our purpose here, as you no doubt—\"\n\n\n Levney sat up on his couch and snapped his fingers peremptorily. \"I\n just heard Gomez tell you to get this thing moving, Sadha. And it isn't\n moving. We're busy men. We've wasted enough time.\"\n\n\n \"I was just trying to explain a crucial final fact,\" the\n Secretary-General apologized. \"A fact which may be highly—\"\n\n\n \"You've explained enough facts.\" Levney turned to the man inside the\n time machine. \"Hey, fella. You.\nMove!\n\"\n\n\n Max Alben gulped and nodded violently. He darted to the rear of the\n machine and turned the dial which activated it.\nflick!\nIt was a good job and Mac Albin knew whom he had to thank for it—his\n great-grandfather.\n\n\n \"Good old Giovanni Albeni,\" he laughed as he looked at the morose faces\n of his two colleagues. Bob Skeat and Hugo Honek had done as much as he\n to build the tiny time machine in the secret lab under the helicopter\n garage, and they were fully as eager to go, but—unfortunately for\n them—they were not descended from the right ancestor.\n\n\n Leisurely, he unzipped the richly embroidered garment that, as the\n father of two children, he was privileged to wear, and wriggled into\n the housing of the complex little mechanism. This was hardly the\n first time he had seen it, since he'd been helping to build the device\n from the moment Honek had nodded and risen from the drafting board,\n and now he barely wasted a glance on the thumb-size translucent coils\n growing out of the almost microscopic energy bubbles which powered them.\n\n\n This machine was the last hope, of 2089, even if the world of 2089, as\n a whole, did not know of its existence and would try to prevent its\n being put into operation. But it meant a lot more to Mac Albin than\n merely saving a world. It meant an adventurous mission with the risk of\n death.\n\n\n \"Good old Giovanni Albeni,\" he laughed again happily.\n\n\n If his great-grandfather had not volunteered for the earliest\n time-travel experiments way back in the nineteen-seventies, back even\n before the Epidemic, it would never have been discovered that he and\n his seed possessed a great deal of immunity to extra-temporal blackout.\n\n\n And if that had not been discovered, the Albins would not have become\n physicists upon the passage of the United Nations law that everyone\n on Earth—absolutely without exception—had to choose a branch of\n research science in which to specialize. In the flabby, careful,\n life-guarding world the Earth had become, Mac Albin would never have\n been reluctantly selected by his two co-workers as the one to carry the\n forbidden banner of dangerous experiment.\n\n\n No, if his great-grandfather had not demonstrated long ago his unique\n capacity for remaining conscious during time travel, Mac Albin would\n probably be a biologist today like almost everyone else on Earth,\n laboriously working out dreary gene problems instead of embarking on\n the greatest adventure Man had known to date.\n\n\n Even if he didn't come back, he had at last found a socially useful\n escape from genetic responsibility to humanity in general and his own\n family in particular. This was a damn good job and he was lucky.\n\n\n \"Wait a minute, Mac,\" Skeat said and crossed to the other side of the\n narrow laboratory.\nAlbin and Honek watched him stuff several sheets of paper into a small\n metal box which he closed without locking.\n\n\n \"You will take care of yourself, won't you, Mac?\" Hugo Honek pleaded.\n \"Any time you feel like taking an unnecessary risk, remember that Bob\n and I will have to stand trial if you don't come back. We might be\n sentenced to complete loss of professional status and spend the rest of\n our lives supervising robot factories.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, it won't be that bad,\" Albin reassured him absent-mindedly from\n where he lay contorted inside the time machine. He watched Skeat coming\n toward him with the box.\n\n\n Honek shrugged his shoulders. \"It might be a lot worse than even that\n and you know it. The disappearance of a two-time father is going to\n leave an awful big vacancy in the world. One-timers, like Bob and\n me, are all over the place; if either of us dropped out of sight, it\n wouldn't cause nearly as much uproar.\"\n\n\n \"But Bob and you both tried to operate the machine,\" Albin reminded\n him. \"And you blacked out after a fifteen-second temporal displacement.\n So I'm the only chance, the only way to stop the human race from\n dwindling and dwindling till it hits absolute zero, like that fat old\n Security Council seems willing for it to do.\"\n\n\n \"Take it easy, Mac,\" Bob Skeat said as he handed the metal box to\n Albin. \"The Security Council is just trying to solve the problem in\n their way, the conservative way: a worldwide concentration on genetics\n research coupled with the maximum preservation of existing human lives,\n especially those that have a high reproductive potential. We three\n disagree with them; we've been skulking down here nights to solve it\nour\nway, and ours is a radical approach and plenty risky. That's\n the reason for the metal box—trying to cover one more explosive\n possibility.\"\n\n\n Albin turned it around curiously. \"How?\"\n\n\n \"I sat up all last night writing the manuscript that's inside it. Look,\n Mac, when you go back to the Guided Missile Experiment of 1976 and\n push that red switch away from you, a lot of other things are going to\n happen than just deflecting the missile so that it will explode in the\n Brazilian jungle instead of the Pacific Ocean.\"\n\n\n \"Sure. I know. If it explodes in the jungle, the Epidemic doesn't\n occur. No Shapiro's Mumps.\"\n\n\n Skeat jiggled his pudgy little face impatiently. \"That's not what I\n mean. The Epidemic doesn't occur, but something else does. A new world,\n a different 2089, an alternate time sequence. It'll be a world in which\n humanity has a better chance to survive, but it'll be one with problems\n of its own. Maybe tough problems. Maybe the problems will be tough\n enough so that they'll get the same idea we did and try to go back to\n the same point in time to change them.\"\nAlbin laughed. \"That's just looking for trouble.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe it is, but that's my job. Hugo's the designer of the time\n machine and you're the operator, but I'm the theoretical man in this\n research team. It's my job to look for trouble. So, just in case, I\n wrote a brief history of the world from the time the missile exploded\n in the Pacific. It tells why ours is the worst possible of futures.\n It's in that box.\"\n\n\n \"What do I do with it—hand it to the guy from the alternate 2089?\"\n\n\n The small fat man exasperatedly hit the side of the time machine with\n a well-cushioned palm. \"You know better. There won't be any alternate\n 2089 until you push that red switch on the green instrument panel. The\n moment you do, our world, with all its slow slide to extinction, goes\n out and its alternate goes on—just like two electric light bulbs on a\n push-pull circuit. We and every single one of our artifacts, including\n the time machine, disappear. The problem is how to keep that manuscript\n from disappearing.\n\n\n \"Well, all you do, if I have this figured right, is shove the metal\n box containing the manuscript out into the surrounding temporal medium\n a moment before you materialize to do your job. That temporal medium\n in which you'll be traveling is something that exists independent of\n and autonomous to all possible futures. It's my hunch that something\n that's immersed in it will not be altered by a new time sequence.\"\n\"Remind him to be careful, Bob,\" Honek rumbled. \"He thinks he's Captain\n Blood and this is his big chance to run away to sea and become a\n swashbuckling pirate.\"\n\n\n Albin grimaced in annoyance. \"I\nam\nexcited by doing something\n besides sitting in a safe little corner working out safe little\n abstractions for the first time in my life. But I know that this is a\n first experiment. Honestly, Hugo, I really have enough intelligence to\n recognize that simple fact. I know that if anything unexpected pops up,\n anything we didn't foresee, I'm supposed to come scuttling back and ask\n for advice.\"\n\n\n \"I hope you do,\" Bob Skeat sighed. \"I hope you do know that. A\n twentieth century poet once wrote something to the effect that the\n world will end not with a bang, but a whimper. Well, our world is\n ending with a whimper. Try to see that it doesn't end with a bang,\n either.\"\n\n\n \"That I'll promise you,\" Albin said a trifle disgustedly. \"It'll end\n with neither a bang\nnor\na whimper. So long, Hugo. So long, Bob.\"\n\n\n He twisted around, reaching overhead for the lever which activated the\n forces that drove the time machine.\nflick!\nIt was strange, Max Alben reflected, that this time travel business,\n which knocked unconscious everyone who tried it, only made him feel\n slightly dizzy. That was because he was descended from Giovanni Albeni,\n he had been told. There must be some complicated scientific explanation\n for it, he decided—and that would make it none of his business. Better\n forget about it.\n\n\n All around the time machine, there was a heavy gray murk in which\n objects were hinted at rather than stated definitely. It reminded him\n of patrolling his beat at the North American Chicken Reservation in a\n thick fog.\n\n\n According to his gauges, he was now in 1976. He cut speed until he hit\n the last day of April, then cut speed again, drifting slowly backward\n to the eighteenth, the day of the infamous Guided Missile Experiment.\n Carefully, carefully, like a man handling a strange bomb made on a\n strange planet, he watched the center gauge until the needle came to\n rest against the thin etched line that indicated the exactly crucial\n moment. Then he pulled the brake and stopped the machine dead.\n\n\n All he had to do now was materialize in the right spot, flash out and\n pull the red switch toward him. Then his well-paid assignment would be\n done.\n\n\n But....\n\n\n He stopped and scratched his dirt-matted hair. Wasn't there something\n he was supposed to do a second before materialization? Yes, that\n useless old windbag, Sadha, had given him a last instruction.\n\n\n He picked up the sealed metal cylinder, walked to the entrance of the\n time machine and tossed it into the gray murk. A solid object floating\n near the entrance caught his eye. He put his arm out—whew, it was\n cold!—and pulled it inside.\n\n\n A small metal box. Funny. What was it doing out there? Curiously,\n he opened it, hoping to find something valuable. Nothing but a few\n sheets of paper, Alben noted disappointedly. He began to read them\n slowly, very slowly, for the manuscript was full of a lot of long and\n complicated words, like a letter from one bookworm scientist to another.\n\n\n The problems all began with the Guided Missile Experiment of 1976,\n he read. There had been a number of such experiments, but it was\n the one of 1976 that finally did the damage the biologists had been\n warning about. The missile with its deadly warhead exploded in the\n Pacific Ocean as planned, the physicists and the military men went\n home to study their notes, and the world shivered once more over the\n approaching war and tried to forget about it.\n\n\n But there was fallout, a radioactive rain several hundred miles to\n the north, and a small fishing fleet got thoroughly soaked by it.\n Fortunately, the radioactivity in the rain was sufficiently low to do\n little obvious physical damage: All it did was cause a mutation in the\n mumps virus that several of the men in the fleet were incubating at the\n time, having caught it from the children of the fishing town, among\n whom a minor epidemic was raging.\nThe fleet returned to its home town, which promptly came down with the\n new kind of mumps. Dr. Llewellyn Shapiro, the only physician in town,\n was the first man to note that, while the symptoms of this disease were\n substantially milder than those of its unmutated parent, practically no\n one was immune to it and its effects on human reproductivity were truly\n terrible. Most people were completely sterilized by it. The rest were\n rendered much less capable of fathering or bearing offspring.\n\n\n Shapiro's Mumps spread over the entire planet in the next few decades.\n It leaped across every quarantine erected; for a long time, it\n successfully defied all the vaccines and serums attempted against\n it. Then, when a vaccine was finally perfected, humanity discovered\n to its dismay that its generative powers had been permanently and\n fundamentally impaired.\n\n\n Something had happened to the germ plasm. A large percentage of\n individuals were born sterile, and, of those who were not, one child\n was usually the most that could be expected, a two-child parent being\n quite rare and a three-child parent almost unknown.\n\n\n Strict eugenic control was instituted by the Security Council of the\n United Nations so that fertile men and women would not be wasted upon\n non-fertile mates. Fertility was the most important avenue to social\n status, and right after it came successful genetic research.\n\n\n Genetic research had the very best minds prodded into it; the lesser\n ones went into the other sciences. Everyone on Earth was engaged in\n some form of scientific research to some extent. Since the population\n was now so limited in proportion to the great resources available, all\n physical labor had long been done by robots. The government saw to it\n that everybody had an ample supply of goods and, in return, asked only\n that they experiment without any risk to their own lives—every human\n being was now a much-prized, highly guarded rarity.\n\n\n There were less than a hundred thousand of them, well below the danger\n point, it had been estimated, where a species might be wiped out by a\n new calamity. Not that another calamity would be needed. Since the end\n of the Epidemic, the birth rate had been moving further and further\n behind the death rate. In another century....\n\n\n That was why a desperate and secret attempt to alter the past was being\n made. This kind of world was evidently impossible.\n\n\n Max Alben finished the manuscript and sighed. What a wonderful world!\n What a comfortable place to live!\n\n\n He walked to the rear dials and began the process of materializing at\n the crucial moment on April 18, 1976.\nflick!\nIt was odd, Mac Albin reflected, that these temporal journeys, which\n induced coma in everyone who tried it, only made him feel slightly\n dizzy. That was because he was descended from Giovanni Albeni, he\n knew. Maybe there was some genetic relationship with his above-average\n fertility—might be a good idea to mention the idea to a biologist or\n two when he returned.\nIf\nhe returned.\n\n\n All around the time machine, there was a soupy gray murk in which\n objects were hinted at rather than stated definitely. It reminded him\n of the problems of landing a helicopter in a thick fog when the robot\n butler had not been told to turn on the ground lights.\n\n\n According to the insulated register, he was now in 1976. He lowered\n speed until he registered April, then maneuvered slowly backward\n through time to the eighteenth, the day of the infamous Guided Missile\n Experiment. Carefully, carefully, like an obstetrician supervising\n surgical robots at an unusually difficult birth, he watched the\n register until it rolled to rest against the notch that indicated the\n exactly crucial moment. Then he pushed a button and froze the machine\n where it was.\n\n\n All he had to do now was materialize in the right spot, flash out and\n push the red switch from him. Then his exciting adventure would be over.\n\n\n But....\n\n\n He paused and tapped at his sleek chin. He was supposed to do something\n a second before materialization. Yes, that nervous theoretician, Bob\n Skeat, had given him a last suggestion.\n\n\n He picked up the small metal box, twisted around to face the opening\n of the time machine and dropped it into the gray murk. A solid object\n floating near the opening attracted his attention. He shot his arm\n out—it was\ncold\n, as cold as they had figured—and pulled the object\n inside.\n\n\n A sealed metal cylinder. Strange. What was it doing out there?\n Anxiously, he opened it, not daring to believe he'd find a document\n inside. Yes, that was exactly what it was, he saw excitedly. He began\n to read it rapidly, very rapidly, as if it were a newly published paper\n on neutrinos. Besides, the manuscript was written with almost painful\n simplicity, like a textbook composed by a stuffy pedagogue for the use\n of morons.\n\n\n The problems all began with the Guided Missile Experiment of 1976, he\n read. There had been a number of such experiments, but it was the one\n of 1976 that finally did the damage the biologists had been warning\n about. The missile with its deadly warhead exploded in the Brazilian\n jungle through some absolutely unforgivable error in the remote-control\n station, the officer in charge of the station was reprimanded and the\n men under him court-martialed, and the Brazilian government was paid a\n handsome compensation for the damage.\nBut there had been more damage than anyone knew at the time. A plant\n virus, similar to the tobacco mosaic, had mutated under the impact\n of radioactivity. Five years later, it burst out of the jungle and\n completely wiped out every last rice plant on Earth. Japan and a large\n part of Asia became semi-deserts inhabited by a few struggling nomads.\n\n\n Then the virus adjusted to wheat and corn—and famine howled in every\n street of the planet. All attempts by botanists to control the Blight\n failed because of the swiftness of its onslaught. And after it had fed,\n it hit again at a new plant and another and another.\n\n\n Most of the world's non-human mammals had been slaughtered for food\n long before they could starve to death. Many insects, too, before they\n became extinct at the loss of their edible plants, served to assuage\n hunger to some small extent.\n\n\n But the nutritive potential of Earth was steadily diminishing in a\n horrifying geometric progression. Recently, it had been observed,\n plankton—the tiny organism on which most of the sea's ecology was\n based—had started to disappear, and with its diminution, dead fish had\n begun to pile up on the beaches.\n\n\n Mankind had lunged out desperately in all directions in an effort to\n survive, but nothing had worked for any length of time. Even the other\n planets of the Solar System, which had been reached and explored\n at a tremendous cost in remaining resources, had yielded no edible\n vegetation. Synthetics had failed to fill the prodigious gap.\n\n\n In the midst of the sharply increasing hunger, social controls had\n pretty much dissolved. Pathetic attempts at rationing still continued,\n but black markets became the only markets, and black marketeers the\n barons of life. Starvation took the hindmost, and only the most agile\n economically lived in comparative comfort. Law and order were had only\n by those who could afford to pay for them and children of impoverished\n families were sold on the open market for a bit of food.\n\n\n But the Blight was still adjusting to new plants and the food supply\n kept shrinking. In another century....\n\n\n That was why the planet's powerful individuals had been persuaded to\n pool their wealth in a desperate attempt to alter the past. This kind\n of world was manifestly impossible.\n\n\n Mac Albin finished the document and sighed. What a magnificent world!\n What an exciting place to live!\n\n\n He dropped his hand on the side levers and began the process of\n materializing at the crucial moment on April 18, 1976.\nflick!\nAs the equipment of the remote-control station began to take on a\n blurred reality all around him, Max Alben felt a bit of fear at what\n he was doing. The technicians, he remembered, the Secretary-General,\n even the black market kings, had all warned him not to go ahead with\n his instructions if anything unusual turned up. That was an awful lot\n of power to disobey: he knew he should return with this new information\n and let better minds work on it.\n\n\n They with their easy lives, what did they know what existence had been\n like for such as he? Hunger, always hunger, scrabbling, servility, and\n more hunger. Every time things got really tight, you and your wife\n looking sideways at your kids and wondering which of them would bring\n the best price. Buying security for them, as he was now, at the risk of\n his life.\n\n\n But in this other world, this other 2089, there was a state that took\n care of you and that treasured your children. A man like himself, with\nfive\nchildren—why, he'd be a big man, maybe the biggest man on\n Earth! And he'd have robots to work for him and lots of food. Above\n all, lots and lots of food.\n\n\n He'd even be a scientist—\neveryone\nwas a scientist there, weren't\n they?—and he'd have a big laboratory all to himself. This other world\n had its troubles, but it was a lot nicer place than where he'd come\n from. He wouldn't return. He'd go through with it.\n\n\n The fear left him and, for the first time in his life, Max Alben felt\n the sensation of power.\n\n\n He materialized the time machine around the green instrument panel,\n sweating a bit at the sight of the roomful of military figures, despite\n the technicians' reassurances that all this would be happening too fast\n to be visible. He saw the single red switch pointing upward on the\n instrument panel. The switch that controlled the course of the missile.\n Now! Now to make a halfway decent world!\n\n\n Max Alben pulled the little red switch toward him.\nflick!\nAs the equipment of the remote-control station began to oscillate into\n reality all around him, Mac Albin felt a bit of shame at what he was\n doing. He'd promised Bob and Hugo to drop the experiment at any stage\n if a new factor showed up. He knew he should go back with this new\n information and have all three of them kick it around.\n\n\n But what would they be able to tell him, they with their blissful\n adjustment to their thoroughly blueprinted lives? They, at least, had\n been ordered to marry women they could live with; he'd drawn a female\n with whom he was completely incompatible in any but a genetic sense.\n Genetics! He was tired of genetics and the sanctity of human life,\n tired to the tip of his uncalloused fingers, tired to the recesses\n of his unused muscles. He was tired of having to undertake a simple\n adventure like a thief in the night.\n\n\n But in this other world, this other 2089, someone like himself would\n be a monarch of the black market, a suzerain of chaos, making his own\n rules, taking his own women. So what if the weaklings, those unfit to\n carry on the race, went to the wall? His kind wouldn't.\n\n\n He'd formed a pretty good idea of the kind of men who ruled that other\n world, from the document in the sealed metal cylinder. The black\n marketeers had not even read it. Why, the fools had obviously been\n duped by the technicians into permitting the experiment; they had not\n grasped the idea that an alternate time track would mean their own\n non-existence.\n\n\n This other world had its troubles, but it was certainly a livelier\n place than where he'd come from. It deserved a chance. Yes, that was\n how he felt: his world was drowsily moribund; this alternate was\n starving but managing to flail away at destiny. It\ndeserved\na chance.\n\n\n Albin decided that he was experiencing renunciation and felt proud.\n\n\n He materialized the time machine around the green instrument panel,\n disregarding the roomful of military figures since he knew they could\n not see him. The single red switch pointed downward on the instrument\n panel. That was the gimmick that controlled the course of the missile.\n Now! Now to make a halfway interesting world!\n\n\n Mac Albin pushed the little red switch from him.\nflick!\nNow! Now to make a halfway decent world!\n\n\n Max Alben pulled the little red switch toward him.\nflick!\nNow! Now to make a halfway interesting world!\n\n\n Mac Albin pushed the little red switch from him.\nflick!\n... pulled the little red switch toward him.\nflick!\n... pushed the little red switch from him.\nflick!\n... toward him.\nflick!\n... from him.\nflick!\n", "questions": [{"question": "Approximately how many farm animals were there in the Americas?", "question_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X_1", "options": ["12", "18", "30", "5"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Max happy to be paid with fruit?", "question_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X_2", "options": ["He was a civil servant", "He loved apricots", "His children loved fruit", "Food was very scarce"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many children did Albin have?", "question_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X_3", "options": ["5", "2", "1", "7"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What had Albin had to do with the machine before he got inside it?", "question_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X_4", "options": ["He had helped build it", "He had never seen it before", "He had seen it once before", "His great grandfather had helped build it"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Max need to be the one to use the machine?", "question_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X_5", "options": ["He was the only one who could stay conscious in it", "He had built it", "His coworkers insisted that he do it", "He was in charge of the project"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was inside the metal box?", "question_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X_6", "options": ["The story of a war", "The story of the epidemic", "The story of how to avoid the blight", "The story of the blight"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Max's task?", "question_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X_7", "options": ["To push the switch to the right", "To pull the switch toward him", "To push the switch away from him", "To push the switch to the left"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Max think the world in the story was wonderful?", "question_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X_8", "options": ["Everyone had plenty of everything they needed", "There were very few people", "No one had to work", "A missile had not exploded in Brazil"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Albin hope he would accomplish?", "question_unique_id": "50948_AGIAFP2X_9", "options": ["Making his life more exciting", "Becoming more powerful", "Making his life safer", "Making the world more prosperous"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/0/9/4/50948//50948-h//50948-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51320", "set_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Break a Leg", "year": 1958, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Short stories; Space ships -- Fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction", "article": "BREAK A LEG\nBy JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by GAUGHAN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction November 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe man worth while couldn't be allowed\n \nto smile ... if he ever laughed at himself,\n \nthe entire ship and crew were as good as dead!\nIf there is anything I am afraid of, and there probably is, it is\n having a rookie Accident Prone, half-starved from the unemployment\n lines, aboard my spaceship. They are always so anxious to please. They\n remember what it is like to live in a rathole behind an apartment\n house furnace eating day-old bread and wilted vegetables, which doesn't\n compare favorably to the Admiralty-style staterooms and steak and\n caviar they draw down in the Exploration Service.\n\n\n You may wonder why anybody should make things so pleasant for a grownup\n who can't walk a city block without tripping over his own feet and who\n has a very low life expectancy on Earth due to the automobiles they are\n constantly stepping in front of and the live wires they are fond of\n picking up so the street won't be littered.\n\n\n The Admiralty, however, is a very thorough group of men. Before they\n open a planet to colonization or even fraternization, they insist on\n knowing just what they are up against.\n\n\n Accident Prones can find out what is wrong with a planet as easily\n as falling off a log, which they will if there is one lonely tree on\n the whole world. A single pit of quicksand on a veritable Eden of a\n planet and a Prone will be knee-deep in it within an hour of blastdown.\n If an alien race will smile patronizingly on your heroic attempts at\n genocide, but be offended into a murderous religious frenzy if you blow\n your nose, you can take the long end of the odds that the Prone will\n almost immediately catch a cold.\n\n\n All of this is properly recorded for the next expedition in the\n Admiralty files, and if it's any consolation, high officials and screen\n stars often visit you in the hospital.\nCharlie Baxter was like all of the other Prones, only worse. Moran III\n was sort of an unofficial test for him and he wanted to make good. We\n had blasted down in the black of night and were waiting for daylight to\n begin our re-survey of the planet. It was Charlie's first assignment,\n so we had an easy one—just seeing if anything new had developed in the\n last fifty years.\n\n\n Baxter's guard was doubled as soon as we set down, of course, and\n that made him fidgety. He had heard all the stories about how high\n the casualty rate was with Prones aboard spaceships and now he was\n beginning to get nervous.\n\n\n Actually Charlie was safer in space than he would be back on Earth\n with all those cars and people. We could have told him how the Service\n practically never lost a Prone—they were too valuable and rare to\n lose—but we did not want him to stop worrying. The precautions we\n took to safeguard him, the armed men who went with him everywhere, the\n Accident Prone First Aid Kit with spare parts for him, blood, eyes,\n bone, nerves, arms, legs, and so forth, only emphasized to him the\n danger, not the rigidly secured safety.\n\n\n We like it that way.\n\n\n No one knows what causes an accident prone. The big insurance\n companies on Earth discovered them when they found out in the last part\n of the nineteenth century that ninety per cent of the accidents were\n happening to a few per cent of the people. They soon found out that\n these people were not malingering or trying to defraud anybody; they\n simply had accidents.\n\n\n I suppose everything from psychology to extra-sensory perception has\n been used to explain or explain away prones. I have my own ideas. I\n think an accident prone is simply a super-genius with a super-doubt of\n himself.\n\n\n I believe accident prones have a better system of calculation than a\n cybernetic machine. They can take\neverything\ninto consideration—the\n humidity, their blood sugar, the expression on the other guy's\n face—and somewhere in the corners and attic of their brain they\ninfallibly\nmake the\nright\nchoice in any given situation. Then,\n because they are incapable of trusting themselves, they do exactly the\n opposite.\n\n\n I felt a little sorry for Charlie Baxter, but I was Captain of the\nHilliard\nand my job was to keep him worried and trying. The worst\n thing that can happen is for a Prone to give up and let himself sink\n into the fate of being a Prone. He will wear the rut right down into a\n tomb.\n\n\n Accident Prones have to stay worried and thinking, trying to break\n out of the jinx that traps them. Usually they come to discover this\n themselves, but by then, if they are real professionals with a career\n in the Service, they have framed the right attitude and they keep it.\nBaxter was a novice and very much of an amateur at the game. He didn't\n like the scoring system, but he was attached to the equipment and\n didn't want to lose it.\n\n\n His clumsiness back on Earth had cost him every decent job he ever had.\n He had come all the way down the line until he was rated eligible only\n for the position of Prone aboard a spaceship. He had been poor—hungry,\n cold, wet, poor—and now he had luxury of a kind almost no one had in\n our era. He was drunk with it, passionately in love with it. It would\n cease to be quite so important after a few years of regular food, clean\n clothes and a solid roof to keep out the rain. But right now I knew he\n would come precariously close to killing to keep it. Or to being killed.\n\n\n He was ready to work.\n\n\n I knocked politely on his hatch and straightened my tunic. I have\n always admired the men who can look starched in a uniform. Mine always\n seemed to wrinkle as soon as I put them around my raw-boned frame.\n Sometimes it is hard for me to keep a military appearance or manner. I\n got my commission during the Crisis ten years back, because of my work\n in the reserve unit that I created out of my employees in the glass\n works (glassware blown to order for laboratories).\n\n\n Someone said something through the door and I went inside.\n\n\n Bronoski looked at me over the top of his picture tape from where he\n lay on the sofa. No one else was in the compartment.\n\n\n \"Where is Baxter?\" I asked the hulking guard. My eyes were on the sofa.\n My own bed pulled out of the wall and was considerably inferior to\n this, much less Baxter's bed in the next cabin. But then I am only a\n captain.\n\n\n Bronoski swung his feet off the couch and stood more or less in what I\n might have taken for attention if I hadn't known him better. \"Sidney\n and Elliot escorted him down to the men's room, Captain Jackson.\"\n\n\n \"You mean,\" I said very quietly, \"that he isn't in his own bath?\"\n\n\n \"No sir,\" Bronoski said wearily. \"He told us it was out of order.\"\n\n\n I stifled the gurgle of rage that came into my throat and motioned\n Bronoski to follow me. The engines on the\nHilliard\nwere more likely\n to be out of order than the plumbing in the Accident Prone's suite. No\n effort was spared to insure comfort for the key man in the whole crew.\n\n\n One glance inside the compartment at the end of the corridor satisfied\n me. There wasn't a thing wrong with the plumbing, so Baxter must have\n had something in mind.\n\n\n On a hunch of my own, I checked the supply lockers next to the airlock\n while Bronoski fired questions at my back. Three translator collars\n were missing. Baxter had left the spaceship and gone off into an alien\n night.\n\n\n Elliot and Sidney, the guards, were absolutely prohibited from\n interfering in any way with a Prone's decisions. They merely had to\n follow him and give their lives to save his, if necessary.\n\n\n I grabbed up a translator collar and tossed one to Bronoski. Then, just\n as we were getting into the airlock, I remembered something and ran\n back to the bridge.\n\n\n The thick brown envelope I had left on my desk was gone. I had shown\n it to Baxter and informed him that he should study it when he felt so\n inclined. He had seemed bored with the idea then, but he had come back\n for the report before leaving the ship. The envelope contained the\n exploration survey on Moran III made some fifty years before.\n\n\n I unlocked a desk drawer with my thumb print and drew out a duplicate\n of the report. I didn't have too much confidence in it and I hoped\n Charlie Baxter had less. Lots of things can change on a planet in fifty\n years, including its inhabitants.\nBronoski picked up Baxter's tracks and those of the two guards, Elliot\n and Sidney, with ultra-violet light. They were cold splotches of green\n fire against the rotting black peat of the jungle path. The whole dark,\n tangled mess smelled of sour mash, an intoxicating bourbon-type aroma.\n\n\n I jogged along following the big man more by instinct than anything\n else, ruining my eyes in an effort to refresh my memory as to the\n contents of the survey report in the cheery little glow from my\n cigarette lighter.\n\n\n The lighter was beginning to feel hot to my fingers and I started to\n worry about radiation leak, although they are supposed to be guaranteed\n perfectly shielded. I read that before the last exploration party had\n left, they had made the Moranite natives blood brothers. Then Bronoski\n knocked me down.\n\n\n Actually he put his hands in the small of my back and shoved politely\n but firmly. Just the same, I went face down into the moist dirt fast\n enough.\n\n\n I raised my head cautiously to see if Bronoski would shove it back\n down. He didn't.\n\n\n I could see through the stringy, alcoholic grass fairly well and there\n were Baxter, Elliot and Sidney in the middle of a curious mob of aliens.\nCharlie Baxter had got pretty thin on his starvation diet back on\n Earth. He had grown a slight pot belly on the good food he drew down as\n Prone, but he was a fairly nice-looking young fellow. He looked even\n better in the pale moonlight, mixed amber and chartreuse from the twin\n satellites, and in contrast to the rest of the group.\n\n\n Elliot Charterson and Sidney Von Elderman were more or less type-cast\n as brawny, brainless bodyguards. Their friends described them as\n muscle-bound apes, but other people sometimes got insulting.\n\n\n The natives were less formidable. They made the slight lump of fat\n Charlie had at his waist look positively indecent.\n\n\n The natives were\nskinny\n. How skinny? Well, the only curves they had\n in their bodies were their bulging eyeballs. But just because they were\n thin didn't mean they were pushovers. Whips and garrotes aren't fat and\n these looked just as dangerous.\n\n\n Whenever I see aliens who are so humanoid, I remember all that Sunday\n supplement stuff about the Galaxy being colonized sometime by one\n humanlike race and the Ten Lost Tribes and so forth.\n\n\n They didn't give me much time to think about it just then. The natives\n looked unhappy—belligerently unhappy.\n\n\n I began to shake and at the same time to assure myself that I didn't\n have anything to worry about, that the precious Accident Prone would\n come out of it alive. After all, Elliot and Sidney were there to\n protect him. They had machine guns, flame-throwers, atomic grenades,\n and some really potent weapons. They could handle the situation. I\n didn't have a thing to worry about.\n\n\n So why couldn't I stop shaking?\n\n\n Maybe it was the way the natives were slowly but deliberately forming a\n circle about Charlie and his bodyguards.\nThe clothing of the Moranites hadn't changed much, I noticed. That was\n understandable. They had a non-mechanical civilization with scattered\n colonies that it would take a terrestrial season to tour by animal cart.\n\n\n An isolated culture like that couldn't change many of its customs.\n Then Charlie shouldn't have any trouble if he stuck to the findings on\n behavior in the report. Naturally, that meant by now he had discovered\n the fatal error.\n\n\n The three men were just standing still, waiting for the aliens to make\n the first move. The natives looked just as worried as Charlie and his\n guards, but then that might have been their natural expression.\n\n\n I jumped a little when the natives all began to talk at once. The\n mixture of sound was fed to me through my translator collar while the\n cybernetic unit back on board the spaceship tried decoding the words.\n It was too much of an overload and, infuriatingly, the sound was cut\n out altogether. I started to rip my collar off when the natives stopped\n screeching and a spokesman stepped forward.\n\n\n The native slumped a little more than the others, as if he were more\n relaxed, and his eyes didn't goggle so much. He said, \"We do not\n understand,\" and the translation came through fine.\n\n\n Baxter swallowed and started forward to meet the alien halfway. His\n boot slipped on the wet scrub grass and I saw him do the desperate\n little dance to regain his balance that I had seen him make so many\n times; he could never stay on his feet.\n\n\n Before he could perform his usual pratfall, Sidney and Elliot were\n at his sides, supporting him by his thin biceps. He glared at them\n and shrugged them off, informing them wordlessly that he would have\n regained his balance if they had given him half a chance.\n\n\n \"We do not understand,\" the native repeated. \"Do you hold us in so much\n contempt as to claim\nall\nof us as your brothers?\"\n\n\n \"All beings are brothers,\" Charlie said. \"We were made blood brothers\n by your people and my people several hundred of your years ago.\"\n\n\n Charlie's words were being translated into the native language, of\n course, but Bronoski's collars and mine switched them back into\n Terrestrial. I've read stories where explorers wearing translators\n couldn't understand each other, but that isn't the way it works. If you\n listen closely, you make out the words in your own language underneath,\n and if you pay very close attention, you can find minor semantic\n differences in the original words and the echo translated back from a\n native language.\n\n\n I was trying to catch both versions from Charlie. I knew he was making\n a mistake and later I wanted to be sure I knew just what it was.\n Frankly, I would have used the blood-brother gambit myself. I had also\n read about it in the survey report, as I made a point of telling you.\n This just proves that Accident Prones haven't secured the franchise on\n mistakes. The difference is that I would have gone about it a lot more\n cautiously.\n\n\n \"Enough of this,\" the native said sharply. \"Do you claim to be\nmy\nbrother?\"\n\n\n \"Sure,\" Charlie said.\n\n\n Dispassionately but automatically, the alien launched himself at the\n Prone's throat.\nCharterson and Von Elderman instantly went into action. Elliot\n Charterson jumped to Charlie's assistance while Sidney Von Elderman\n swung around to protect Charlie from the rest of the crowd.\n\n\n But the defense didn't work.\n\n\n The other aliens didn't try to get to Baxter, but when they saw Elliot\n start to interfere with the two writhing opponents, they clawed him\n down into the grass. Sidney had been set to defend the Prone, not his\n fellow guard. They might have been all right if he had pulled a few\n off Elliot and let him get to work, except his training told him that\n the life of a guard did not matter a twit, but that a Prone must be\n defended. He started toward Charlie Baxter and was immediately pulled\n down by a spare dozen of the mob.\n\n\n It all meant one thing to me. The reaction of the crowd had been\n spontaneous, not planned. That meant that the struggle between Charlie\n and the spokesman was a high order of single combat with which it was\n unholy, indecent and dastardly to interfere.\n\n\n I could fairly hear Bronoski's steel muscles preparing for battle as\n he saw his two mammoth pals go down under the press of numbers. A\n bristle-covered bullet of skull rose out of the grass beside me and it\n was my turn to grind his face in the muck.\n\n\n I had a nice little problem to contend with.\n\n\n I knew the reason Baxter had slipped out at night to be the first to\n greet the aliens. He was determined to be useful and necessary without\n fouling things up. I suppose Charlie had never felt valuable to anyone\n before in his life, but at the same time it hurt him to think that he\n was valuable only because he was a misfit.\n\n\n He had decided to take a positive approach. If he did things right,\n that would be as good proof of conditions as if he made the mistakes he\n was supposed to do. But he couldn't lick that doubt of himself that had\n been ground into him since birth and there he was, in trouble as always.\n\n\n Now maybe Bronoski and I could get him out ourselves by a direct\n approach, but Charlie would probably lose all self-confidence and sink\n down into accepting himself as an Accident Prone, a purely passive\n state.\n\n\n We couldn't have that. We had to have Charlie acting and thinking and\n therefore making mistakes whose bad examples we could profit by.\n\n\n As I lay on my belly thinking, Charlie was putting up a pretty good\n fight with the stringy native. He got in a few good punches, which\n seemed to mystify the native, who apparently knew nothing of boxing.\n Naturally Charlie then began wrestling a trained and deadly wrestler\n instead of continuing to box him.\n\n\n I grabbed Bronoski by his puffy ear and hissed some commands into\n it. He fumbled out a book of matches and lit one for me. By the tiny\n flicker of light, I began tearing apart my lighter.\nI suppose you have played \"tickling the dragon's tail\" when you were a\n kid. I did. I guess all kids have. You know, worrying around two lumps\n of fissionable material and just keeping them from uniting and making\n a critical mass that will result in an explosion or lethal radiation.\n I caught my oldest boy doing it one day back on Earth and gave him a\n good tanning for it. Actually I thought it showed he had a lot of grit.\n Every real boy likes to tickle the dragon's tail.\n\n\n Maybe I was a little old for it, but that's what I was doing there in\n the Moran III jungle.\n\n\n I got the shield off my cigarette lighter and jerked out the dinky\n little damper rods for the pile and started easing the two little\n bricks toward each other with the point of my lead pencil.\n\n\n I heard something that resembled a death rattle come from Charlie's\n throat as the fingers of the alien closed down on it and my hand\n twitched. A blooming light stabbed at my eyes and I flicked the lighter\n away from me.\n\n\n The explosion was a dud.\n\n\n It lit up the jungle for a radius of half a mile like a giant\n flashbulb, but it exploded only about ten times as loud as a pistol\n shot. The mass hadn't been slapped together hard enough or held long\n enough to do any real damage.\n\n\n The natives weren't fools, though. They got out of there fast. I wished\n I could have gone with them. There was undoubtedly an unhealthy amount\n of radiation hanging around.\n\n\n \"Now!\" I told Bronoski.\n\n\n He ran into the clearing and found four bodies sprawled out: Charlie\n Baxter, his two guards and the native spokesman.\n\n\n Charlie and the native were both technically unconscious, but they each\n had a stranglehold on each other, with Charlie getting the worst of it.\n\n\n Bronoski pried the two of them apart.\n\n\n While he roused Sidney and Elliot from their punch-drunk state, I\n examined Charlie. He had a nasty burn on his leg and two toes were\n gone. If there was an explosion anywhere around, he was bound to be in\n front of it.\n\n\n He was abruptly choking and blinking watery eyes.\n\n\n \"You did it, Charlie,\" I lied. \"You beat him fair and square.\"\nCharlie was in bed for the next few days while his grafted toes grew\n on, but he didn't seem to mind.\n\n\n We knew enough not to use the blood-brothers approach after fifty years\n and therefore it did not take us long to find out why we shouldn't.\n\n\n The Moran III culture was isolated in small colonies, but we had\n forgotten that a generation of the intelligent life-forms was only\n three Earth months. It seems a waste at first thought, but all things\n are relative. The Crystopeds of New Lichtenstein, for instance, have a\n life span of twenty thousand Terrestrial years.\n\n\n With so fast a turnover in Moran III individuals, there was bound to be\n a lot of variables introduced, resulting in change.\n\n\n The idea that seemed to be in favor was the survival of the fittest.\n Since the natives were born in litters, with single births extremely\n rare, this concept was practiced from the first. Unless they were\n particularly cunning, the runts of the litter did not survive the first\n year and rarely more than one sibling ever saw adulthood.\n\n\n Obviously, to claim to be a native's brother was to challenge him to a\n test of survival.\n\n\n My men learned to call themselves Last Brother in the usual bragging\n preliminaries that preceded every encounter. We got pretty good results\n with that approach and learned a lot about the changes in customs in\n the half century. But finally one of the men—either Frank Peirmonte or\n Sidney Charterson, who both claim to be the one—thought of calling the\n crew a Family and right away we began hitting it off famously.\n\n\n The Moranites figured we would kill each other off all except maybe\n one, whom they could handle themselves. They still had folk legends\n about the previous visit of Earthmen and they didn't trust us.\n\n\n Charlie Baxter's original mistake had supplied us with the Rosetta\n Stone we needed.\n\n\n Doctor Selby told me Charlie could get up finally, so I went to his\n suite and shook hands with him as he still lay in bed.\n\n\n I waited for the big moment when Charlie would be on his feet again\n and we could get on with the re-survey of the planet.\n\n\n \"Here goes,\" Charlie said and threw back his sheet.\n\n\n He swung his legs around and tottered to his feet. He was a little\n weak, but he took a few steps and seemed to make it okay.\n\n\n Then the inevitable happened. He snagged the edge of one of the Persian\n carpets on the bedroom floor with his big toe and started to fall.\n\n\n Selby and I both dived forward to catch him, but instead of doing the\n arm-waving dance for balance that we were both used to, he seemed to go\n limp and he plopped on the floor like a wet fish.\n\n\n Immediately he jumped to his feet, grinning. \"I finally learned to go\n limp when I take a fall, sir. It took a lot of practice. I imagine I'll\n save some broken bones that way.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" I said uneasily. \"You have been thinking about this quite a lot\n while you lay there, haven't you, Baxter?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. I see I've been fighting this thing too hard. I am an\n Accident Prone and I might as well accept it. Why not? I seem to always\n muddle through some way, like out there in the jungle, so why should I\n worry or feel\nembarrassed\n?\nI know I can't change\nit.\"\nI was beginning to do some worrying of my own. Things weren't working\n out the way they should. We were supposed to see that Prones kept\n developing a certain amount of doomed self-confidence, but they\n couldn't be allowed to believe they were infallible Prones. A Prone's\n value lies in his active and constructive effort to do the right thing.\n If he merely accepts being a Prone, his accidents gain us nothing. We\n can't profit from mistakes that come about from resignation or laughing\n off blunders or, as in this case, conviction that he never got himself\n into anything he couldn't get himself out of.\n\n\n \"Doctor Selby, would you excuse us?\" I asked.\n\n\n The medic left with a bow and a surly expression. I turned to Baxter,\n rather wishing Selby could have stayed. It was a labor dispute and I\n was used to having a mediator present at bargaining sessions at my\n glassworks. But this was a military, not a civilian, spaceship.\n\n\n \"I have some facts of life to give you, Baxter,\" I told him. \"It\n is your duty to\nactively\nfulfill your position. You have to make\n decisions and plan courses of action. Do you figure on just walking\n around in that jungle until a tree falls on you?\"\n\n\n He sat down on the edge of the bed and examined the pattern in the\n carpet. \"Not exactly, sir. But I get tired of people waiting for me to\n make a fool out of myself. I have a natural talent for—for\nCreative\n Negativism\n. That's it. And I should be able to exercise my talent with\ndignity\n.\"\n\n\n \"If you don't actively fulfill the obligations of a Prone, you aren't\n allowed the luxuries and privileges that go with the position. Do you\n think you would like to be without your armed guards to protect you\n every moment?\"\n\n\n \"I can take care of myself, sir!\"\n\n\n I paused and came up with my best argument. \"How would you like to\n live like an ordinary spaceman, without rare steaks and clean sheets?\n Because if you're not our Accident Prone, you're just another crew\n member, you know.\"\n\n\n That one hurt him, but I saw I had put it to him as a challenge and\n he must have had some guilt feelings about accepting all that luxury\n for being nothing more than he was. \"I could fulfill the duties of an\n ordinary spaceman, sir.\"\n\n\n I snorted. \"It takes skill and training, Baxter. Your papers entitle\n you to one position and one only anywhere—Accident Prone of a\n spaceship complement. If you refuse to do your duties in that post, you\n can only become a ward of the Galaxy.\"\n\n\n His jaw line firmed. He had gone through a lot to keep from taking such\n abject charity. \"Isn't there,\" he asked in a milder tone, \"\nany\nother\n position I could serve in on this ship, sir?\"\n\n\n I studied his face a moment. \"We had to blast off without an Assistant\n Pile Driver, j.g. It keeps getting harder and harder to recruit an APD,\n j.g. I suppose it's those reports about the eventual fatalities due to\n radiation leak back there where they are stationed.\"\n\n\n Baxter looked back at me steadily. \"There are a lot of rumors about the\n high mortality rate among Accident Prones in space, too.\"\nHe was right. We had started the rumors. We wanted the Prones alert,\n active and scheming to stay alive. More beneficial accidents that way.\n Actually, most Prones died of old age in space, which is more than\n could be said of them on Earth, where they didn't have the kind of\n protection the Service gives them.\n\n\n \"Look here, Baxter, do you like your quarters on this ship?\" I demanded.\n\n\n \"You mean this master bedroom, the private heated swimming pool, the\n tennis court, bowling alley and all? Yes, sir, I like it.\"\n\n\n \"The Assistant Pile Driver has a cot near the fuel tanks.\"\n\n\n He gazed off over my left shoulder. \"I had a bed behind the furnace\n back on Earth before the building I was working in burned down.\"\n\n\n \"You wouldn't like this one any better than the one before.\"\n\n\n \"But there I would have some chance of\nadvancement\n. I don't want to\n be stuck in the rank of Accident Prone for life.\"\n\n\n I stared at him in frank amazement. \"Baxter, the only rank getting\n higher pay or more privileges than Prone is Grand Admiral of the\n Services, a position it would take you at least fifty years to reach if\n you had the luck and brains to make it, which you haven't.\"\n\n\n \"I had something more modest in mind, sir. Like being a captain.\"\n\n\n He surely must have known how I lived in comparison to him, so I didn't\n bother to remind him. I said, \"Have you ever seen a case of radiation\n poisoning?\"\n\n\n Baxter's jaw thrust forward. \"It must be pretty bad—but it isn't as\n violent as being eaten by floating fungi or being swallowed in an\n earthquake on some airless satellite.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" I agreed, \"it is much slower than any of those. It is unfortunate\n that we don't carry the necessary supplies to take care of Pile\n Drivers. Most of our medical supplies are in the Accident Prone First\n Aid Kit, for the exclusive use of the Prone. Have you ever taken a good\n look at that?\"\n\n\n Baxter shivered. \"Yes, I've seen it. Several drums of blood, Type AB,\n my type. A half-dozen fresh-frozen assorted arms and legs, several rows\n of eyes, a hundred square feet of graftable skin, and a well-stocked\n tank of inner organs and a double-doored bank of nerve lengths.\n Impressive.\"\nI smiled. \"Sort of gives you a feeling of confidence and security,\n doesn't it? It would be unfortunate for anyone who had a great many\n accidents to be denied the supplies in that Kit, I should think. Of\n course, it is available only to those filling the position of Accident\n Prone and doing the work faithfully and according to orders.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Charlie mumbled.\n\n\n \"Selby is your personal physician, you realize,\" I drove on. \"He takes\n care of the rest of us only if he has time left over from you. Why,\n when I was having my two weeks in the summer as an Ensign, I had to\n lie for half an hour with a crushed foot while the doctor sprayed our\n Prone's throat to guard against infection. Let me tell you, I was in\n quite a bit of pain.\"\n\n\n Charlie's pale eyes narrowed as if he had just made a sudden discovery,\n perhaps about the relationship between us. \"You don't make as much\n money as I do, do you, sir? You don't have a valet? And your bed folds\n into the bulkhead?\"\n\n\n I thought he was at last beginning to get it. \"Yes,\" I said.\n\n\n He stood sharply to attention. \"Request transfer to position of\n Assistant Pile Driver, j.g., sir.\"\n\n\n I barely halted a groan. He thought I resented him and was deliberately\n holding him down into the miserable overpaid, overfed job that was\n beneath him and the talents that so fitted him for the job.\n\n\n \"Request granted.\"\n\n\n He would learn.\n\n\n He had better.\n\n\n I started to sweat in a gush. He had\nreally\nbetter.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was the accident prone's job on this mission?", "question_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O_1", "options": ["To learn if anything had changed on the planet", "To be the first person to die on the planet", "To conduct the first-ever visit to the planet", "To try to not have any accidents on the planet"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the captain think causes people like Baxter to exist?", "question_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O_2", "options": ["Extra-sensory perception", "An inability to worry", "high intelligence and low self-confidence", "A desire to commit fraud"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did all the efforts to protect Baxter make him feel?", "question_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O_3", "options": ["Concerned", "Safer", "Ambivalent", "Indestructible"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who had the nicest place to sleep?", "question_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O_4", "options": ["The accident-prone", "The spacemen", "The captain", "The guard"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why couldn't Baxter use his own bathroom?", "question_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O_5", "options": ["It wasn't nice enough", "It was out of order", "He thought it was too nice for him", "He was trying to sneak off the ship"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Charlie tell the natives he was their brother?", "question_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O_6", "options": ["He was using a translator collar", "He was trying to act based on history", "He didn't want to point out their strange appearance", "He had no information about how to speak with them"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the captain stop the guard from defending the accident-prone?", "question_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O_7", "options": ["He didn't want to save his life", "He thought the fight must be allowed to continue", "He didn't think the guard could beat the aliens", "He was upset the guard had shoved him down"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the captain stop the alien attack?", "question_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O_8", "options": ["With an attack from the guards", "With a child's game", "With a gunshot", "With a nuclear weapon"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the captain lie to Baxter about how the fight ended?", "question_unique_id": "51320_4G14XR5O_9", "options": ["He didn't want him to know he was so tough", "He didn't want him to know the danger in which he had been", "He had lost some body parts and was in shock", "He didn't want him to be depressed and give up"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/2/51320//51320-h//51320-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51395", "set_unique_id": "51395_2PILALCT", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Survival Type", "year": 1961, "author": "Bone, Jesse F. (Jesse Franklin)", "topic": "PS; Extrasolar planets -- Fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "SURVIVAL TYPE\nBy J. F. BONE\n\n\n Illustrated by KIRBERGER\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction March 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nScore one or one million was not enough for\n \nthe human race. It had to be all or nothing ...\n \nwith one man doing every bit of scoring!\nArthur Lanceford slapped futilely at the sith buzzing hungrily around\n his head. The outsized eight-legged parody of a mosquito did a neat\n half roll and zoomed out of range, hanging motionless on vibrating\n wings a few feet away.\nA raindrop staggered it momentarily, and for a fleeting second,\n Lanceford had the insane hope that the arthropod would fall out of\n control into the mud. If it did, that would be the end of it, for\n Niobian mud was as sticky as flypaper. But the sith righted itself\n inches short of disaster, buzzed angrily and retreated to the shelter\n of a nearby broadleaf, where it executed another half roll and hung\n upside down, watching its intended meal with avid anticipation.\n\n\n Lanceford eyed the insect distastefully as he explored his jacket for\n repellent and applied the smelly stuff liberally to his face and neck.\n It wouldn't do much good. In an hour, his sweat would remove whatever\n the rain missed—but for that time, it should discourage the sith. As\n far as permanent discouraging went, the repellent was useless. Once\n one of those eight-legged horrors checked you off, there were only two\n possible endings to the affair—either you were bitten or you killed\n the critter.\n\n\n It was as simple as that.\n\n\n He had hoped that he would be fast enough to get the sith before it got\n him. He had been bitten once already and the memory of those paralyzed\n three minutes while the bloodsucker fed was enough to last him for\n a lifetime. He readjusted his helmet, tucking its fringe of netting\n beneath his collar. The netting, he reflected gloomily, was like its\n owner—much the worse for wear. However, this trek would be over in\n another week and he would be able to spend the next six months at a\n comfortable desk job at the Base, while some other poor devil did the\n chores of field work.\nHe looked down the rain-swept trail winding through the jungle.\n Niobe—a perfect name for this wet little world. The Bureau of\n Extraterrestrial Exploration couldn't have picked a better, but the\n funny thing about it was that they hadn't picked it in the first place.\n Niobe was the native word for Earth, or perhaps \"the world\" would be\n a more accurate definition. It was a coincidence, of course, but the\n planet and its mythological Greek namesake had much in common.\n\n\n Niobe, like Niobe, was all tears—a world of rain falling endlessly\n from an impenetrable overcast, fat wet drops that formed a grieving\n background sound that never ceased, sobbing with soft mournful noises\n on the rubbery broadleaves, crying with obese splashes into forest\n pools, blubbering with loud, dismal persistence on the sounding\n board of his helmet. And on the ground, the raindrops mixed with the\n loesslike soil of the trail to form a gluey mud that clung in huge\n pasty balls to his boots.\n\n\n Everywhere there was water, running in rivulets of tear-streaks down\n the round cheeks of the gently sloping land—rivulets that merged and\n blended into broad shallow rivers that wound their mourners' courses\n to the sea. Trekking on Niobe was an amphibious operation unless\n one stayed in the highlands—a perpetual series of fords and river\n crossings.\n\n\n And it was hot, a seasonless, unchanging, humid heat that made a\n protection suit an instrument of torture that slowly boiled its wearer\n in his own sweat. But the suit was necessary, for exposed human flesh\n was irresistible temptation to Niobe's bloodsucking insects. Many of\n these were no worse than those of Earth, but a half dozen species were\n deadly. The first bite sensitized. The second killed—anaphylactic\n shock, the medics called it. And the sith was one of the deadly species.\n\n\n Lanceford shrugged fatalistically. Uncomfortable as a protection suit\n was, it was better to boil in it than die without it.\n\n\n He looked at Kron squatting beside the trail and envied him. It was\n too bad that Earthmen weren't as naturally repellent to insects as\n the dominant native life. Like all Niobians, the native guide wore no\n clothing—ideal garb for a climate like this. His white, hairless hide,\n with its faint sheen of oil, was beautifully water-repellent.\n\n\n Kron, Lanceford reflected, was a good example of the manner in which\n Nature adapts the humanoid form for survival on different worlds.\n Like the dominant species on every intelligent planet in the explored\n galaxy, he was an erect, bipedal, mammalian being with hands that\n possessed an opposable thumb. Insofar as that general description went,\n Kron resembled humanity—but there were differences.\nSquatting, the peculiar shape of Kron's torso and the odd flexibility\n of his limbs were not apparent. One had the tendency to overlook the\n narrow-shouldered, cylindrical body and the elongated tarsal and carpal\n bones that gave his limbs four major articulations rather than the\n human three, and to concentrate upon the utterly alien head.\n\n\n It jutted forward from his short, thick neck, a long-snouted, vaguely\n doglike head with tiny ears lying close against the hairless,\n dome-shaped cranium. Slitlike nostrils, equipped with sphincter\n muscles like those of a terrestrial seal, argued an originally aquatic\n environment, and the large intelligent eyes set forward in the skull to\n give binocular vision, together with the sharp white carnassial teeth\n and pointed canines, indicated a carnivorous ancestry. But the modern\n Niobians, although excellent swimmers, were land dwellers and ate\n anything.\n\n\n Lanceford couldn't repress an involuntary shudder at some of the\n things they apparently enjoyed. Tastes differed—enormously so between\n Earthmen and Niobians.\n\n\n There was no doubt that the native was intelligent, yet he, like the\n rest of his race, was a technological moron. It was strange that a race\n which had a well-developed philosophy and an amazing comprehension of\n semantics could be so backward in mechanics. Even the simpler of the\n BEE's mechanisms left the natives confused. It was possible that they\n could learn about machinery, but Lanceford was certain that it would\n take a good many years before the first native mechanic would set up a\n machine shop on this planet.\n\n\n Lanceford finished tucking the last fold of face net under his collar,\n and as he did so, Kron stood up, rising to his five-foot height\n with a curious flexible grace. Standing, he looked something like a\n double-jointed alabaster Anubis—wearing swim fins. His broad, webbed\n feet rested easily on the surface of the mud, their large area giving\n him flotation that Lanceford envied. As a result, his head was nearly\n level with that of the human, although there was better than a foot\n difference in their heights.\n\n\n Lanceford looked at Kron inquiringly. \"You have a place in mind where\n we can sleep tonight?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, Boss. We'll be coming to hunthouse soon. We go now?\"\n\n\n \"Lead on,\" Lanceford said, groaning silently to himself—another\n hunthouse with its darkness and its smells. He shrugged. He could\n hardly expect anything else up here in the highlands. Oh, well, he'd\n managed to last through the others and this one could be no worse. At\n that, even an airless room full of natives was preferable to spending\n a night outside. And the sith wouldn't follow them. It didn't like\n airless rooms filled with natives.\n\n\n He sighed wearily as he followed Kron along the dim path through the\n broadleaf jungle. Night was coming, and with darkness, someone upstairs\n turned on every faucet and the sheets of rain that fell during the day\n changed abruptly into a deluge. Even the semi-aquatic natives didn't\n like to get caught away from shelter during the night.\n\n\n The three moved onward, immersed in a drumming wilderness of rain—the\n Niobian sliding easily over the surface of the mud, the Earthman\n plowing painfully through it, and the sith flitting from the shelter of\n one broadleaf to the next, waiting for a chance to feed.\nThe trail widened abruptly, opening upon one of the small clearings\n that dotted the rain-forest jungle. In the center of the clearing,\n dimly visible through the rain and thickening darkness, loomed the\n squat thatch-roofed bulk of a hunthouse, a place of shelter for the\n members of the hunters' guild who provided fresh meat for the Niobian\n villages. Lanceford sighed a mingled breath of relief and unpleasant\n anticipation.\n\n\n As he stepped out into the clearing, the sith darted from cover,\n heading like a winged bullet for Lanceford's neck. But the man was\n not taken by surprise. Pivoting quickly, he caught the iridescent\n blur of the bloodsucker's wings. He swung his arm in a mighty slap.\n The high-pitched buzz and Lanceford's gloved hand met simultaneously\n at his right ear. The buzz stopped abruptly. Lanceford shook his head\n and the sith fell to the ground, satisfactorily swatted. Lanceford\n grinned—score one for the human race.\n\n\n He was still grinning as he pushed aside the fiber screen closing the\n low doorway of the hunthouse and crawled inside. It took a moment for\n his eyes to become accustomed to the gloom within, but his nose told\n him even before his eyes that the house was occupied. The natives, he\n thought wryly, must be born with no sense of smell, otherwise they'd\n perish from sheer propinquity. One could never honestly say that\n familiarity with the odor of a Niobian bred contempt—nausea was the\n right word.\n\n\n The interior was typical, a dark rectangle of windowless limestone\n walls enclosing a packed-dirt floor and lined with a single deck of\n wooden sleeping platforms. Steeply angled rafters of peeled logs\n intersected at a knife-sharp ridge pierced with a circular smokehole\n above the firepit in the center of the room. Transverse rows of\n smaller poles lashed to the rafters supported the thick broadleaf\n thatch that furnished protection from the rain and sanctuary for\n uncounted thousands of insects.\n\n\n A fire flickered ruddily in the pit, hissing as occasional drops of\n rain fell into its heart from the smokehole, giving forth a dim light\n together with clouds of smoke and steam that rose upward through\n the tangled mass of greasy cobwebs filling the upper reaches of the\n rafters. Some of the smoke found its way through the smokehole, but\n most of it hung in an acrid undulating layer some six feet above the\n floor.\n\n\n The glow outlined the squatting figures of a dozen or so natives\n clustered around the pit, watching the slowly rotating carcass of a\n small deerlike rodent called a sorat, which was broiling on a spit\n above the flames. Kron was already in the ring, talking earnestly to\n one of the hunters—a fellow-tribesman, judging from the tattoo on his\n chest.\n\n\n To a Niobian, the scene was ordinary, but to Lanceford it could have\n been lifted bodily from the inferno. He had seen it before, but the\n effect lost nothing by repetition. There was a distinctly hellish\n quality to it—to the reds and blacks of the flickering fire and the\n shadows. He wouldn't have been particularly surprised if Satan himself\n appeared in the center of the firepit complete with horns, hoofs and\n tail. A hunthouse, despite its innocuousness, looked like the southeast\n corner of Hades.\nClustered around the fire, the hunters turned to look at him curiously\n and, after a single eye-filling stare, turned back again. Niobians\n were almost painfully polite. Although Earthmen were still enough of a\n curiosity to draw attention, one searching look was all their customs\n allowed. Thereafter, they minded their own business. In some ways,\n Lanceford reflected, native customs had undeniable merit.\n\n\n Presently Kron rose from his place beside the fire and pointed out two\n empty sleeping platforms where they would spend the night. Lanceford\n chose one and sank wearily to its resilient surface. Despite its crude\n construction, a Niobian sleeping platform was comfortable. He removed\n his pack, pulled off his mud-encrusted boots and lay back with a grunt\n of relaxation. After a day like this, it was good to get off his feet.\n Weariness flowed over him.\n\n\n He awoke to the gentle pressure of Kron's hand squeezing his own. \"The\n food is cooked,\" the Niobian said, \"and you are welcomed to share it.\"\n\n\n Lanceford nodded, his stomach crawling with unpleasant anticipation.\n A native meal was something he would prefer to avoid. His digestive\n system could handle the unsavory mess, but his taste buds shrank from\n the forthcoming assault. What the natives classed as a delicate and\n elusive flavor was sheer torture to an Earthman.\n\n\n Possibly there was some connection between their inefficient olfactory\n apparatus and their odd ideas of flavor, but whatever the physical\n explanation might be, it didn't affect the fact that eating native\n food was an ordeal. Yet he couldn't refuse. That would be discourteous\n and offensive, and one simply didn't offend the natives. The BEE was\n explicit about that. Courtesy was a watchword on Niobe.\n\n\n He took a place by the fire, watching with concealed distaste as one\n of the hunters reached into the boiling vat beside the firepit with a\n pair of wooden tongs and drew forth the native conception of a hors\n d'oeuvre. They called it vorkum—a boiled sorat paunch stuffed with a\n number of odorous ingredients. It looked almost as bad as it smelled.\n\n\n The hunter laid the paunch on a wooden trencher, scraped the greenish\n scum from its surface and sliced it open. The odor poured out, a\n gagging essence of decaying vegetables, rotten eggs and overripe\n cheese.\n\n\n Lanceford's eyes watered, his stomach tautened convulsively, but the\n Niobians eyed the reeking semi-solid eagerly. No meal on Niobe was\n considered worthy of the name unless a generous helping of vorkum\n started it off.\nAn entree like that could ruin the most rugged human appetite, but\n when it was the forerunner of a main dish of highly spiced barbecue,\n vorkum assumed the general properties of an emetic. Lanceford grimly\n controlled the nausea and tactfully declined the greasy handful which\n Kron offered. The Niobian never seemed to learn. At every meal they had\n eaten during their past month of travel on Niobe, Kron had persistently\n offered him samples of the mess. With equal persistence, he had\n refused. After all, there were limits.\nBut polite convention required that he eat something, so he took a\n small portion of the barbecued meat and dutifully finished it. The\n hunters eyed him curiously, apparently wondering how an entity who\n could assimilate relatively untasty sorat should refuse the far greater\n delicacy of vorkum. But it was a known fact that the ways of Earthmen\n were strange and unaccountable.\n\n\n The hunters didn't protest when he retired to his sleeping platform and\n the more acceptable concentrates from his pack. His hunger satisfied,\n he lay back on the resilient vines and fell into a sleep of exhaustion.\n It had been a hard day.\n\n\n Lanceford's dreams were unpleasant. Nightmare was the usual penalty of\n sitting in on a Niobian meal and this one was worse than usual. Huge\n siths, reeking of vorkum, pursued him as he ran naked and defenseless\n across a swampy landscape that stretched interminably ahead. The\n clinging mud reduced his speed to a painful crawl as he frantically\n beat off the attacks of the blood-suckers.\n\n\n The climax was horror. One of the siths slipped through his frantically\n beating hands and bit him on the face. The shocking pain of the bite\n wakened him, a cry of terror and anguish still on his lips.\n\n\n He looked around wildly. He was still in the hunthouse. It was just a\n dream.\n\n\n He chuckled shakily. These nightmares sometimes were too real for\n comfort. He was drenched with sweat, which was not unusual, but there\n was a dull ache in his head and the hot tense pain that encompassed the\n right side of his face had not been there when he had fallen asleep.\n\n\n He touched his face with a tentative finger, exploring the hot\n puffiness and the enormously swollen ear with a gentle touch. It was\n where he had struck the sith, but surely he couldn't have hit that hard.\n\n\n He gasped, a soft breath of dismay, as realization dawned. He had\n smashed the sith hard enough to squeeze some of the insect's corrosive\n body juices through his face net—and they had touched his skin! That\n wouldn't normally have been bad, but the sith bite he had suffered\n a week ago had sensitized him. He was developing an anaphylactic\n reaction—a severe one, judging from the swelling.\n\n\n That was the trouble with exploration; one occasionally forgot that a\n world was alien. Occasionally danger tended to recede into a background\n of familiarity—he had smashed the sith before it had bitten him, so\n therefore it couldn't hurt him. He grimaced painfully, the movement\n bringing another twinge to his swollen face. He should have known\n better.\n\n\n He swore mildly as he opened his Aid Kit and extracted a sterile hypo.\n The super-antihistamine developed by the Bureau was an unpredictable\n sort of thing. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. He removed\n the screw cap that sealed the needle and injected the contents of the\n syringe into his arm. He hoped that this was one of the times the drug\n worked. If it wasn't, he reflected grimly, he wouldn't be long for this\n world.\n\n\n He sighed and lay back. There wasn't anything more to do now. All he\n could do was wait and see if the anti-allergen worked.\nThe Bureau of Extraterrestrial Exploration had discovered Niobe barely\n three years ago, yet already the planet was famous not only for its\n peculiar climate, but also for the number of men who had died upon its\n watery surface. Knowledge of this planet was bought with life, grim\n payment to decrease the lag between discovery and the day men could\n live and work on Niobe without having to hide beneath domes or behind\n protection suits. Lanceford never questioned the necessity or the\n inevitable price that must be paid. Like every other BEE agent, he knew\n that Niobe was crash priority—a world that\nhad\nto be understood in\n minimum time.\n\n\n For Niobe was a made to order herbarium for a swampland plant called\n viscaya. The plant was originally native to Algon IV, but had been\n spread to practically every suitable growth center in the Galaxy.\n It was the source of a complex of alkaloids known as gerontin, and\n gerontin had the property of tripling or quadrupling the normal life\n span of mammals.\n\n\n It was obvious that viscayaculture should have a tremendous\n distribution throughout the Confederation worlds. But unfortunately the\n right conditions existed in very few places in the explored galaxy.\n Despite the fact that most life is based on carbon, oxygen and water,\n there is still very little free water in the Galaxy. Most planets of\n the Confederation are semi-arid, with the outstanding exceptions of\n Terra and Lyrane. But these two worlds were the seats of human and\n humanoid power for so long that all of their swampland had been drained\n and reclaimed centuries ago.\n\n\n And it was doubly unfortunate that gerontin so far defied synthesis.\n According to some eminent chemists, the alkaloid would probably\n continue to do so until some facet of the Confederation reached a Class\n VIII culture level. Considering that Terra and Lyrane, the two highest\n cultures, were only Class VII, and that Class level steps took several\n thousands of years to make, a policy of waiting for synthesis was not\n worth considering.\n\n\n The result was that nobody was happy until Niobe was discovered.\n The price of illicit gerontin was astronomical and most of the\n Confederation's supply of the drug was strictly rationed to those whom\n the government thought most valuable to the Confederation as a whole.\n Of course, the Confederation officialdom was included, which caused\n considerable grumbling. In the nick of time, Niobe appeared upon the\n scene, and Niobe had environment in abundance!\n\n\n The wheels of the Confederation began to turn. The BEE was given a\n blank check and spurred on by a government which, in turn, was being\n spurred on by the people who composed it. The exploration of Niobe\n proceeded at all possible speed. With so many considerations weighed\n against them, what did a few lives matter? For the sake of the billions\n of humanoids in the Confederation, their sacrifice was worthwhile\n even if only a few days or hours were saved between discovery and\n exploitation.\nLanceford groaned as a violent pain shot through his head. The\n anti-allergin apparently wasn't going to work, for it should have had\n some effect by now. He shrugged mentally—it was the chance one took in\n this business. But he couldn't say that he hadn't been warned. Even old\n Sims had told him, called him a unit in the BEE's shortcut trial and\n error scheme—an error, it looked like now.\n\n\n Seemed rather silly—a Class VII civilization using techniques that\n were old during the Dark Ages before the Atomic Revolution, sending\n foot parties to explore a world in the chance that they might discover\n something that the search mechs missed—anything that would shorten the\n lag time. It was incomprehensible, but neither Sims nor the BEE would\n do a thing like this without reason. And whatever it was, he wasn't\n going to worry about it. In fact, there wasn't much time left to worry.\n The reaction was observably and painfully worse.\n\n\n It was important that the news of his death and the specimens he had\n collected get back to Base Alpha. They might have value in this complex\n game Alvord Sims was playing with men, machines and Niobe. But Base\n Alpha was a good hundred miles away and, in his present condition, he\n couldn't walk a hundred feet.\n\n\n For a moment, he considered setting up the powerful little transmitter\n he carried in his pack, but his first abortive motion convinced him it\n was useless. The blinding agony that swept through him at the slightest\n movement left no doubt that he would never finish the business of\n setting up the antenna, let alone send a message.\n\n\n It was a crime that handie-talkies couldn't be used here on Niobe, but\n their range, limited at best, was practically nonexistent on a planet\n that literally seemed to be one entire \"dead spot.\" A fixed-frequency\n job broadcasting on a directional beam was about the only thing that\n could cover distance, and that required a little technical know-how to\n set up the antenna and focus it on Base Alpha. There would be no help\n from Kron. Despite his intelligence, the native could no more assemble\n a directional antenna than spread pink wings and fly.\n\n\n There was only one thing to do—get a note off to Sims, if he could\n still write, and ask Kron to deliver the note and his pack to the Base.\n\n\n He fumbled with his jacket, and with some pain produced a stylus and a\n pad. But it was difficult to write. Painful, too. Better get Kron over\n here while he could still talk and tell him what he wanted.\n\n\n The stylus slipped from numb fingers as Lanceford called hoarsely,\n \"Kron! Come here! I need you!\"\nKron looked down compassionately at the swollen features of the\n Earthman. He had seen the kef effect before, among the young of his\n people who were incautious or inexperienced, but he had never seen it\n among the aliens. Surprisingly, the effects were the same—the livid\n swellings, the gasping breath, the pain. Strange how these foreigners\n reacted like his own people.\n\n\n He scratched his head and pulled thoughtfully at one of his short ears.\n It was his duty to help Lanceford, but how could he? The Earthman\n had denied his help for weeks, and Niobians simply didn't disregard\n another's wishes. Kron scowled, the action lending a ferocious cast to\n his doglike face. Tolerance was a custom hallowed by ages of practice.\n It went to extremes—even with life at stake, a person's wishes and\n beliefs must be respected.\n\n\n Kron buried his long-snouted head in his hands, a gesture that held in\n it all the frustration which filled him.\n\n\n The human was apparently resolved to die. He had told Kron his last\n wishes, which didn't include a request for help, but merely to get\n his pack back to the others in their glass dome. It was astonishing\n that such an obviously intelligent species should have so little\n flexibility. They didn't understand the first principles of adaptation.\n Always and forever, they held to their own ways, trying with insensate\n stubbornness to mold nature to their will—and when nature overcome\n their artificial defenses, they died, stubborn, unregenerate,\n inflexible to the end. They were odd, these humans—odd and a little\n frightening.\n\n\n Lanceford breathed wheezily. The swelling had invaded the inner\n tissues of his throat and was beginning to compress his windpipe. It\n was uncomfortable, like inhaling liquid fire, and then there was the\n constant desire to cough and the physical inability to do so.\n\n\n \"Dirty luck,\" he whispered. \"Only a week more and I'd have had it\n made—the longest trek a man's made on this benighted planet.\"\n\n\n Kron nodded, but then belatedly realized that the human was muttering\n to himself. He listened. There might be something important in these\n dying murmurings, something that might explain their reasons for being\n here and their strange driving haste that cared nothing for life.\n\n\n \"It's hard to die so far from one's people, but I guess that can't be\n helped. Old Sims gave me the score. Like he said, a man doesn't have\n much choice of where he dies in the BEE.\"\n\n\n \"You don't want to die!\" Kron exploded.\n\n\n \"Of course not,\" Lanceford said with weak surprise. He hadn't dreamed\n that Kron was nearby. This might well destroy the Imperturbable\n Earthman myth that the BEE had fostered.\n\n\n \"Not even if it is in accord with your customs and rituals?\"\n\n\n \"What customs?\"\n\n\n \"Your clothing, your eating habits, your ointments—are these not part\n of your living plan?\"\n\n\n Despite the pain that tore at his throat, Lanceford managed a chuckle.\n This was ridiculous. \"Hell, no! Our only design for living is to stay\n alive, particularly on jobs like this one. We don't wear these suits\n and repellent because we\nlike\nto. We do it to stay alive. If we\n could, we'd go around nearly as naked as you do.\"\n\n\n \"Do you mind if I help you?\" Kron asked diffidently. \"I think I can\n cure you.\" He leaned forward anxiously to get the man's reply.\n\n\n \"I'd take a helping hand from the devil himself, if it would do any\n good.\"\n\n\n Kron's eyes were brilliant. He hummed softly under his breath, the\n Niobian equivalent of laughter. \"And all the time we thought—\" he\n began, and then broke off abruptly. Already too much time was wasted\n without losing any more in meditating upon the ironies of life.\n\n\n He turned toward the firepit, searched for a moment among the stones,\n nodded with satisfaction and returned to where Lanceford lay. The\n hunthouse was deserted save for himself and the Earthman. With\n characteristic Niobian delicacy, the hunters had left, preferring to\n endure the night rain than be present when the alien died. Kron was\n thankful that they were gone, for what he was about to do would shock\n their conservative souls.\nLanceford was dimly conscious of Kron prying his swollen jaws apart\n and forcing something wet and slippery down his throat. He swallowed,\n the act a tearing pain to the edematous membranes of his gullet, but\n the stuff slid down, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The act\n triggered another wave of pain that left him weak and gasping. He\n couldn't take much more of this. It wouldn't be long now before the\n swelling invaded his lungs to such a degree that he would strangle. It\n wasn't a pleasant way to die.\n\n\n And then, quite suddenly, the pain eased. A creeping numbness spread\n like a warm black blanket over his outraged nervous system. The stuff\n Kron had given him apparently had some anesthetic properties. He felt\n dimly grateful, even though the primitive native nostrum would probably\n do no good other than to ease the pain.\n\n\n The blackness went just far enough to paralyze the superficial areas of\n his nervous system. It stopped the pain and left him unable to move,\n but the deeper pathways of thought and reason remained untouched. He\n was conscious, although no external sensation intruded on his thoughts.\n He couldn't see Kron—the muscles that moved his eyes were as paralyzed\n as the other muscles of his body and the native was outside his field\n of vision—but somehow he knew exactly what the Niobian was doing. He\n was washing mucus from his hands in a bowl of water standing beside the\n fire pit\nand he was wondering wryly whether forced feeding was on the\n list of human tabus\n!\n\n\n Lanceford's mind froze, locked in a peculiar contact that was more\n than awareness. The sensation was indescribable. It was like looking\n through an open door into the living room of a stranger's house.\n\n\n He was aware of the incredible complexity and richness of Kron's\n thoughts, of oddly sardonic laughter, of pity and regret that such a\n little thing as understanding should cause death and suffering through\n its lack, of bewildered admiration for the grim persistence of the\n alien Earthmen, mixed with a wondering curiosity about what kept them\n here—what the true reasons were for their death-defying persistence\n and stubbornness—of an ironic native paraphrase for the Terran saying,\n \"Every man to his own taste,\" and a profound speculation upon what\n fruits might occur from true understanding between his own race and the\n aliens.\n\n\n It was a strangely jumbled kaleidoscopic flash that burned across the\n explorer's isolated mind, a flash that passed almost as soon as it had\n come, as though an invisible door had closed upon it.\n\n\n But one thing in that briefly shocking contact stood out with great\n clarity. The Niobians were as eager as the BEE to establish a true\n contact, a true understanding, for the message was there, plain\n in Kron's mind that he was thinking not only for himself but for\n a consensus of his people, a decision arrived at as a result of\n discussion and thought—a decision of which every Niobian was aware and\n with which most Niobians agreed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Lanceford trekking around the planet?", "question_unique_id": "51395_2PILALCT_1", "options": ["To help people live longer ", "To get away from the sith", "To try to get out of the rain", "To learn more about the natives"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was it good there was so much rain on the planet?", "question_unique_id": "51395_2PILALCT_2", "options": ["They needed rain to grow a rare plant", "The rain helped keep the insects away", "The sticky mud made it easier to get around", "There was nothing good about the rain"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was true about the bugs on the planet?", "question_unique_id": "51395_2PILALCT_3", "options": ["All of them had fatal bites", "None of them had fatal bites", "They killed a lot of natives", "Some of them were harmless"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Lanceford resigned to his death?", "question_unique_id": "51395_2PILALCT_4", "options": ["He would be known for the longest survival time on the planet", "He didn't want help from the natives", "He believed nothing could be done", "He was happy to die for a good cause"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What happened after the native tried to help Lanceford?", "question_unique_id": "51395_2PILALCT_5", "options": ["Lanceford's paralysis went away", "The treatment did not work", "He washed his hands in disgust", "They had a telepathic connection"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/9/51395//51395-h//51395-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51436", "set_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Bullet with His Name", "year": 1972, "author": "Leiber, Fritz", "topic": "PS; Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "Bullet With His Name\nBy FRITZ LEIBER\n\n\n Illustrated By: DILLON\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction July 1958.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nBefore passing judgment, just ask yourself\n \none question: Would you like answering for\n \nhumanity any better than Ernie Meeker did?\nThe Invisible Being shifted his anchorage a bit in Earth's\n gravitational field, which felt like a push rather than a pull to him,\n and said, \"This featherless biped seems to satisfy Galaxy Center's\n requirements. I'd say he's a suitable recipient for the Gifts.\"\n\n\n His Coadjutor, equally invisible and negatively massed, chewed that\n over. \"Mature by his length and mass. Artificial plumage neither\n overly gaudy nor utterly drab—indicating median social level,\n which is confirmed by the size of his bachelor nest. Inward maps of\n his environment not fantastically inaccurate. Feelings reasonably\n meshed—at least neither volcanic nor frozen. Thoughts and values in\n reasonable order. Yes, I agree, a satisfactory test subject. Except....\"\n\n\n \"Except what?\"\n\n\n \"Except we can never be sure of that 'reasonable' part.\"\n\n\n \"Of course not! Thank your stars\nthat's\nbeyond the reach of Galaxy\n Center's keenest telepathy, or even ours on the spot. Otherwise you and\n I'd be out of a job.\"\n\n\n \"And have to scheme up some other excuse for free-touring the Cosmos\n with backtracking permitted.\"\n\n\n \"Exactly!\" The Being and his Coadjutor understood each other very well\n and were the best of friends. \"Well, how many Gifts would you suggest\n for the test?\"\n\n\n \"How about two Little and one Big?\" the Coadjutor ventured.\n\n\n \"Umm ... statistically adequate but spiritually unsatisfying. Remember,\n the fate of his race hangs on his reactions to them. I'd be inclined to\n increase your suggestion by one each and add a Great.\"\n\n\n \"No—at least I question the last. After all, the Great Gifts aren't as\n important, really, as the Big Gifts. Besides....\"\n\n\n \"Besides what? Come on, spit it out!\" The Invisible Being was the\n bluff, blunt type.\n\n\n \"Well,\" said his less hearty but unswervingly honest companion, \"I'm\n always afraid that you'll use the granting of a Great Gift as an excuse\n for some sardonic trick—that you'll put a sting in its tail.\"\n\n\n \"And why shouldn't I, if I want to? Snakes have stings in their tails\n (or do they on this planet?) and I'm a sort of snake. If he fails the\n test, he fails. And aren't both of us malicious, plaguing spirits,\n eager to knock holes in the inward armor of provincial entities? It's\n in the nature of our job. But we can argue about that in due course.\n What Little Gifts would you suggest?\"\n\n\n \"That's something I want to talk about. Many of the Little Gifts are\n already well within his race's reach, if not his. After all, they've\n already got atomic power.\"\n\n\n \"Which as you very well know scores them nothing one way or the other\n on a Galaxy Center test. We're agreed on the nature and the number of\n our Gifts—three Little, two Big, and one Great?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" his Coadjutor responded resignedly.\n\n\n \"And we're agreed on our subject?\"\n\n\n \"Yes to that too.\"\n\n\n \"All right, then, let's get started. This isn't the only solar system\n we have to visit on this circuit.\"\nErnie Meeker—of Chicago, Illinois, U.S. of A., Occident, Terra, Sol,\n Starswarm 37, Rim Sector, Milky Way Galaxy—rubbed his chin and slanted\n across the street to a drugstore.\n\n\n \"Package of blades. Double edge. Five. Cheapest.\"\n\n\n At one point during the transaction, the clerk lost sight of the tiny\n packet he'd placed on the coin-whitened glass between them. He gave a\n suspicious look, as if the customer had palmed them.\n\n\n Ernie blinked. After a moment, he pointed toward the center of the\n counter.\n\n\n \"There they are,\" he said, dropping a coin beside them.\n\n\n The clerk's face didn't get any less suspicious. Customer who could\n sneak something without your seeing could sneak it back the same way.\n He rang up the sale and closed the register fast.\n\n\n Ernie Meeker went home and shaved. Five days—and shaves—later, he\n pushed the first blade, uncomfortably dull now, through the tiny slot\n beside the bathroom mirror. He unwrapped the second blade from the\n packet.\n\n\n Five shaves later, he cut himself under the chin with the second blade,\n although he was drawing it as gently through his soaped beard as if it\n were only his second shave with it, or at most his third. He looked at\n it sourly and checked the packet. Wouldn't have been the first time\n he'd absentmindedly changed blades ahead of schedule.\n\n\n But there were still three blades in their waxed wrappings.\n\n\n Maybe, he thought, he'd still had one of the blades from the last\n packet and shuffled it into this series.\n\n\n Or maybe—although the manufacturers undoubtedly had inspectors to\n prevent it from happening—he'd got a decent blade for once.\n\n\n Two or three shaves later, it still seemed as sharp as ever, or almost\n so.\n\n\n \"Funny thing,\" he remarked to Bill at lunch, \"sometimes you get a blade\n that shaves a lot better. Looks exactly like the others, but shaves\n better. Or worse sometimes, of course.\"\n\n\n \"And sometimes,\" his office mate said, \"you wear out a blade fast by\n not soaking your beard enough. For me, one shave with a stiff beard and\n the blade's through. On the other hand, if you're careful to soak your\n beard real good—four, five minutes at least—have the water steaming\n hot, get the soap really into it, one blade can last a long time.\"\n\n\n \"That's true, all right,\" Ernie agreed, trying to remember how well he\n had been soaking his beard lately. Shaving was a good topic for light\n conversation, warm and agreeable, like most bathroom and kitchen topics.\nBut next morning in the bathroom, looking at the reflection of his\n unremarkable face, there was something chilly in his feelings that he\n couldn't quite analyze. He flipped his razor open and suspiciously\n studied the bright metal wafer, then flipped it closed with an\n irritated shrug.\n\n\n As he shaved, it occurred to him that a good detective-story murder\n method would be to substitute a very sharp razor blade for one the\n victim knew was extremely dull. He'd whip it across his throat, putting\n a lot of muscle into the stroke to get through the tangle, and—\nurrk\n!\n\n\n Ridiculous, of course. Wouldn't work except with a straight razor.\n Wouldn't even work with a straight razor, unless ... oh, well.\n\n\n He told himself the blade was noticeably duller today.\n\n\n Next morning, he was still using the freak blade, but with a persistent\n though very slight uneasiness. Things should behave as you expected\n them to, in accordance with their flimsy souls, he told himself at the\n barely conscious level. Men should die, hearts should break, girls\n should tell, nations perish, curtains get dirty, milk sour ... and\n razor blades grow dull. It was the comfortable, expected, reassuring\n way.\n\n\n He told himself the blade was duller still. Just a bit.\n\n\n The third morning, face lathered, he flipped open the razor and lifted\n it out.\n\n\n \"You're through,\" he said to it silently. \"I've had the experience\n before of getting bum shaves by trying to save a penny by pretending to\n myself that a wornout blade was still sharp enough, when it obviously\n couldn't be. Or maybe—\" he grinned a little wryly—\"maybe I'd almost\n get one more shave out of you and then you'd fall to pieces like\n the Wonderful One Horse Shay and leave me with a chin full of steel\n porcupine quills. No, thanks.\"\n\n\n So Ernie Meeker pushed through the little slot beside the mirror and\n heard tinkle faintly down and away the first of the Little Gifts, the\n Everlasting Razor Blade. One hundred and fifty thousand years later,\n it turned up, bright and shining, in the midst of a small knob of red\n iron oxide excavated by an archeological expedition of multi-brachs\n from Antares Gamma. Those wise history-mad beings handed it about\n wonderingly, from tentacle to impatient tentacle.\nThat day, Ernie felt a little sick, somehow. After dinner, he decided\n it was the Thuringer sausage he'd eaten at lunch. He hurried up to the\n bathroom with a spoon, but as he clutched the box of bicarbonate of\n soda, preparatory to plunging the spoon into it, it seemed to him that\n the box said distinctly, in a small inward-outward voice:\n\n\n \"No, no, no!\"\n\n\n Ernie sat down suddenly on the toilet seat. The spoon rattled against\n the porcelain finish of the washbowl as he laid it down. He held the\n box firmly in both hands and studied it.\n\n\n Size, shape, materials, blue color, closure, etc., were exactly as they\n should be. But the white lettering on the blue background read:\nAQUEOUS FUEL CATALYST\n\n\n Dissociates H\n 2\n O into hemi-quasi-stable H and O, furnishing a\n serviceable fuel-and-oxydizer mix for most motorcycles, automobiles,\n trucks, motorboats, airplanes, stationary motors, torque-twisters,\n translators, and rockets (exhaust velocity up to 6000 meters per\n second). Operates safely within and outside of all normal atmospheres.\n No special adaptor needed on oxygenizer-atmosphere motors.\nDirections\n: Place one pinch in fuel tank, fill with water. Add water\n as needed.\n\n\n A-F Catalyst should generally be renewed when objective tests show\n fuel quality has deteriorated 50 per cent.\nU.S. and Foreign Patents Pending\nAfter reading that several times, with suitable mind-checking and\n eye-testing in between, Ernie took up a little of the white powder on\n the end of a nailfile. He had thought of tasting it, but had instantly\n abandoned the notion and even refrained from sniffing the stuff—after\n all, the human body is mostly water.\n\n\n After reducing the quantity several times, he gingerly dumped at most\n four or five grains on the flat edge of the washbowl and then used the\n broad end of the nailfile to maneuver a large bead of water over to\n the almost invisible white deposit. He closed the box, put it and the\n nailfile carefully on the window ledge, lit a match and touched it to\n the drop, at the last moment ducking his head a little below the level\n of the washbowl.\n\n\n Nothing happened. After a moment, he slowly withdrew the match,\n shaking it out, and looked. There was nothing to see. He reached out to\n touch the stupid squashed ovoid of water.\n\n\n Ouch! He withdrew his fingers much faster than the match, shook them\n more sharply. Something was there, all right. Heat. Heat enough to hurt.\nHe cautiously explored the boundaries of the heat. It became noticeable\n about eighteen inches above the drop and almost an inch to each\n side—an invisible slim vertical cylinder. Crouching close, eyes level\n with the top of the washbowl, he could make out the flame—a thin\n finger of crinkled light.\n\n\n He noticed that a corner of the drop was seething—but only a corner,\n as if the heat were sharply bounded in that direction and perhaps as if\n the catalyst were only transforming the water to fuel a bit at a time.\n\n\n He reached up and tugged off the light. Now he could see the\n flame—ghostly, about four inches high, hardly thicker than a string,\n and colored not blue but pale green. A spectral green needle. He blew\n at it softly. It shimmied gracefully, but not, he thought, as much as\n the flame of a match or candle. It had character.\n\n\n He switched on the light. The drop was more than half gone now; the\n part that was left was all seething. And the bathroom was markedly\n warmer.\n\n\n \"Ernie! Are you going to be much longer?\"\n\n\n The knock hadn't been loud and his widowed sister's voice was more\n apologetic than peremptory, but he jumped, of course.\n\n\n \"I am testing something,\" he started to say and changed it mid-way. It\n came out, \"I am be out in a minute.\"\n\n\n He turned off the light again. The flame was a little shorter now and\n it shrank as he watched, about a quarter inch a second. As soon as it\n died, he switched on the light. The drop was gone.\n\n\n He scrubbed off the spot with a dry washrag, on second thought put a\n dab of vaseline on the washrag, scrubbed the spot again with that—he\n didn't like to think of even a grain of the powder getting in the\n drains or touching any water. He folded the washrag, tucked it in his\n pocket, put the blue box—after a final check of the lettering—in his\n other coat pocket, and opened the door.\n\n\n \"I was taking some bicarb,\" he told his sister. \"Thuringer sausage at\n lunch.\"\n\n\n She nodded absently.\nSleep refused even to flirt with Ernie, his mind was full of so many\n things, especially calculations involving the distance between his\n car and the house and the length of the garden hose. In desperation,\n as the white hours accumulated and his thoughts began to squirm, he\n grabbed up the detective story he'd bought at the corner newsstand. He\n had read thirty pages before he realized that he was turning them as\n rapidly as he could focus just once on each facing page.\n\n\n He jumped out of bed. My God, he thought, at that rate he'd finish the\n book under three minutes and here it wasn't even two o'clock yet!\n\n\n He selected the thickest book on the shelf, an overpoweringly dull\n historical treatise in small print. He turned two pages, three, then\n closed it with a clap and looked at the wall with frightened eyes.\n Ernie Meeker had discovered, inside the birthday box that was himself,\n the first of the Big Gifts.\n\n\n The trouble was that in that wee-hour, lonely bedroom, it didn't\n seem like a gift at all. How would he ever keep himself in books, he\n wondered, if he read them so fast? And think how full to bursting his\n mind would get—right now, the seven pages of fine-print history were\n churning in it, vividly clear, along with the first chapters of the new\n detective story. If he kept on absorbing information that fast, he'd\n have to be revising all his opinions and beliefs every couple of days\n at least—maybe every couple of hours.\n\n\n It seemed a dreadful, literally maddening prospect—his mind would\n ultimately become a universe of squirming macaroni. Even the wallpaper\n he was staring at, which imitated the grain of wood, had in an instant\n become so fully part of his consciousness that he felt he could turn\n his back on it right now and draw a picture of it correct to the\n tiniest detail. But who would ever want to do such a thing, or want to\n be able to?\n\n\n It was an abnormal, dangerous, temporary sensitivity, he told\n himself, generated by the excitement of the crazy discovery he'd made\n in the bathroom. Like the thoughts of a drowning man, riffling an\n infinity-paneled adventure-comic of his life as he bolts his last rough\n ration of air. Or like the feeling a psychotic must have that he's\n on the verge of visualizing the whole universe, having its ultimate\n secrets patter down into the palm of his outstretched hand—just before\n the walls close in.\n\n\n Ernie Meeker was not a drinking man, then. A pint had stood a week on\n his closet shelf and only been diminished three shots. But now he did a\n good job on the sturdy remainder.\n\n\n Pretty soon the unbearable, edge-of-doom clarity in his mind faded,\n the universe-macaroni cooked down to a thick white soup uniform as\n fog, and the words of the detective story were sliding into his mind\n individually, or at most in strings of three and four. Which, if it\n wasn't as it ideally should be in an ambitious man's mind, was at least\n darn comfortable.\n\n\n He had not rejected the Big Gift of Page-at-a-Glance Reading. Not\n quite. But he had dislocated for tonight at least the imposed nervous\n field on which it depended.\nFor want of a better place, Ernie dropped the rubber tube from the\n bathtub spray into the scrub bucket half full of odorous pink fluid and\n stared doubtfully at the uncapped gas tank. The tank had been almost\n empty when he'd last driven his car, he knew, because he'd been waiting\n until payday to gas up. Now he had used the tube to siphon out what\n he could of the remainder (he still could taste the stuff!) and he'd\n emptied the fuel line and carburator, more or less.\n\n\n Further than that, in the way of engine hygiene, Ernie's strictly\n kitchen mechanics did not go, but he felt that a catalyst used in\n pinches shouldn't be too particular about contaminants. Besides, the\n directions on the box hadn't said anything about cleaning the fuel\n tank, had they?\n\n\n He hesitated. At his feet, the garden hose gurgled noisily over the\n curb into the gutter; it had vindicated his midnight estimate, proving\n just long enough. He looked uneasily up and down the dawning street\n and was relieved to find it still empty. He wished fervently, not for\n the first time this Saturday morning, that he had a garage. Then he\n sighed, squared his shoulders a little, and lifted the box out of his\n pocket.\n\n\n Making to check the directions the umpteenth time, he received a body\n blow. The white lettering on the box had disappeared. The box didn't\n proclaim itself sodium bicarbonate again—there was just no lettering\n at all, only blue background. He turned it over several times.\n\n\n Right there died his tentative plan of eventually sharing his secret\n with some friend who knew more than himself about motors (he hadn't\n decided anyway who that would be). It would be just too silly to\n approach anyone he knew with a more-than-wild story and featureless\n blue box.\n\n\n For a moment, he came very close to dropping the box between the\n wide-set bars of the street drain and pouring the pink gas back in the\n tank. It had hit him, in a way for the first time, just how\ncrazy\nthis all was, how jarringly implausible even on such hypotheses as\n practical jokes, secret product perhaps military, or mad inventor\n (except himself).\n\n\n For how the devil should the stuff get into his bathroom disguised as\n bicarb? That circumstance seemed beyond imagination. Green flames ...\n vanishing letters ... \"torque-twisters, translators\" ... a box that\n talked....\nAt that point, simple faith came to Ernie's rescue: in the same\n bathroom, he\nhad\nseen the green flame; it had burned his fingers.\n\n\n Quickly he dipped up a little of the white powder on the edge of a\n fifty-cent piece, dumped it in the gas tank without quibbling as to\n quantity, rapped the coin on the edge of the opening, closed and\n pocketed the blue box, and picked up the spurting hose and jabbed it\n into the round hole.\n\n\n His heart was pounding and his breath was coming fast. That had taken\n real effort. So he was slow in hearing the footsteps behind him.\n\n\n His neighbor's gate was open and Mr. Jones stood open-mouthed a few\n feet behind him, all ready for his day's work as streetcar motorman and\n wearing the dark blue uniform that always made him look for a moment\n unpleasantly like a policeman.\n\n\n Ernie swung the hose around, flipping his thumb over the end to make\n a spray, and nonchalantly began to water the little rectangle of lawn\n between sidewalk and curb.\n\n\n The first things he watered were the bottoms of Mr. Jones's pants legs.\n\n\n Mr. Jones voiced no complaint. He backed off several steps, stared\n intently at Ernie, rather palely, it seemed to the latter. Then he\n turned and made off for the streetcar tracks at a very fast shuffle,\n shaking his feet a little now and then and glancing back several times\n over his shoulder without slowing down.\n\n\n Ernie felt light-headed. He decided there was enough water in the gas\n tank, capped it, and momentarily continued to water the lawn.\n\n\n \"Ernie! Come on in and have breakfast!\"\n\n\n He heeded his sister's call, telling himself it would be a good idea\n \"to give the stuff time to mix\" before testing the engine.\n\n\n He had divined her question and was ready with an answer.\n\n\n \"I've just found out that we're supposed to water our lawns only before\n seven in the morning or after seven in the evenings. It's the law.\"\nIt was the day for their monthly drive out to Wheaton to visit Uncle\n Fabius. On the whole, Ernie was glad his sister was in the car when he\n turned the key in the starter—it forced him to be calm and collected,\n though he didn't feel exactly right about exposing her to the danger\n of being blown up without first explaining to her the risk. But the\n motor started right up and began purring powerfully. Ernie's sister\n commented on it favorably.\n\n\n Then she went on to ask, \"Did you remember to buy gas yesterday?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" he said without thinking; then, realizing his mistake, quickly\n added, \"I'll buy some in Wheaton. There's enough to get us there.\"\n\n\n \"You didn't think so yesterday,\" she objected. \"You said the tank was\n nearly empty.\"\n\n\n \"I was wrong. Look, the gauge shows it's half full.\"\n\n\n \"But then how ... Ernie, didn't you once tell me the gauge doesn't\n work?\"\n\n\n \"Did I?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. Look, there's a station. Why don't you buy gas now?\"\n\n\n \"No, I'll wait for Wheaton—I know a place there I can get it cheaper,\"\n he insisted, rather lamely, he feared.\n\n\n His sister looked at him steadily. He settled his head between his\n shoulders and concentrated on driving. His feeling of excitement was\n spoiled, but a few minutes of silence brought it back. He thought of\n the blur of green flashes inside the purring motor. If the passing\n drivers only knew!\n\n\n Uncle Fabius, retired perhaps a few years too early and opinionated,\n was a trial, but he did know something about the automobile industry.\n Ernie chose a moment when his sister was out of the room to ask if\n he'd ever heard of a white powder that would turn water into gasoline\n or some usable fuel.\n\n\n \"Who's been getting at you?\" Uncle Fabius demanded sharply, to Ernie's\n surprise and embarrassment. \"That's one of the oldest swindles.\n They always tell this story about how this man had a white powder\n or something and demonstrated it once with a pail of water and then\n disappeared. You're supposed to believe that Detroit or the big oil\n companies got rid of him. It's just another of those malicious legends,\n concocted—by Russia, I imagine—to weaken your faith in American\n Industry, like the everlasting battery or the razor blade that never\n gets dull. You're looking pale, Ernie—don't tell me you've already put\n money in this white powder? I suppose someone's approached you with a\n proposition, though?\"\nWith considerable difficulty, Ernie convinced his uncle that he had\n \"just heard the story from a friend.\"\n\n\n \"In that case,\" Uncle Fabius opined, \"you can be sure some fuel-powder\n swindler has been getting at\nhim\n. When you see him—and be sure to\n make that soon—tell him from me that—\" and Uncle Fabius began an\n impassioned ninety-minute defense of big business, small business,\n prosperity, America, money, know-how, and a number of other\n institutions that defended pretty easily, so that the situation was\n wholly normal when Ernie's sister returned.\n\n\n As soon as the car pulled away from the curb on their way back to\n Chicago, she reminded him about the gas.\n\n\n \"Oh, I've already done that,\" he assured her. \"Made a special trip so I\n wouldn't forget. It was while you were out of the room. Didn't you hear\n me?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" she said, \"I didn't,\" and she looked at him steadily, as she had\n that morning. He similarly retreated to driving.\n\n\n Stopping for a railroad crossing, he braked too hard and the car\n stalled. His sister grabbed his arm. \"I knew that was going to happen,\"\n she said. \"I knew that for some reason you lied to me when—\" The\n motor, starting readily again, cut short her remark and Ernie didn't\n press his small triumph by asking her what she was about to say.\n\n\n To tell the truth, Ernie wasn't feeling as elated about today's\n fifty-mile drive as he'd imagined he would. Now he thought he could put\n his finger on the reason: It was the completely ... well,\narbitrary\nway in which the white powder had come into his possession.\n\n\n If he'd concocted it himself, or been given it by a shady promoter, or\n even seen the box fall out of the pocket of a suspicious-looking man\n in a trenchcoat,\nthen\nhe'd have felt more able to\ndo\nsomething\n about it, whether in the general line of starting a fuel-powder company\n or of going to the F.B.I.\n\n\n But just having the stuff drop into his hands from the sky, so to\n speak, as if in a crazy dream, and for that same reason not feeling\n able to talk about it and assure himself he wasn't going crazy ... oh,\n it is rough when you can't share things, really rough; not being able\n to share depressing news corrodes the spirit, but not being able to\n share exciting news can sometimes be even more corroding.\n\n\n Maybe, he told himself, he could figure out someone to tell. But who?\n And how? His mind shied away from the problem, rather decisively.\nWhen he checked the blue box that night, the original sodium\n bicarbonate lettering had returned with all its humdrum paragraphs. Not\n one word about exhaust velocities.\n\n\n From that moment, the fuel-powder became a trial to Ernie rather than a\n secret glory. He'd wake in the middle of the night doubting that he had\n ever really read the mind-dizzying lettering, ever really tested the\n stuff—perhaps he'd bring from sleep the chilling notion that in the\n dimness and excitement of Saturday morning he'd put the water in some\n other car's gas tank, perhaps Mr. Jones's. He could usually argue such\n ideas away, but they kept coming back. And yet he did no more bathroom\n testing.\n\n\n Of course the car still ran. He even fueled it once again with the\n garden hose, sniffing the nozzle to make sure it hadn't somehow got\n connected to the basement furnace oil-tank. He picked three o'clock in\n the morning for the act, but nevertheless as he was returning indoors\n he heard a window in Mr. Jones's house slam loudly. It unsettled him.\n Coming home the next day, he caught his sister and Mr. Jones consulting\n about something on the latter's doorsteps, which unsettled him further.\n\n\n He couldn't decide on a safe place to keep the box and took to carrying\n it around with him day and night. Bill spotted it once down at the\n office and by an unhappy coincidence needed some bicarb just then for a\n troubled stomach. Ernie explained on the spur of the moment that he was\n using the box to carry plaster of Paris, which involved him in further\n lies that he felt were quite unconvincing as well as making him appear\n decidedly eccentric, even butter-brained. Bill took to calling him \"the\n sculptor.\"\n\n\n Meanwhile, besides the problem of the white powder, Ernie was having\n other unsettling experiences, stemming (though of course he didn't\n know that) from the other Gifts—and not just the Big Gift of\n Page-at-a-Glance Reading, though that still returned from time to time\n to shock his consciousness and send him hurrying for a few quick shots.\nLike many another car-owning commuter, Ernie found the traffic and\n parking problems a bit too much for comfort and so used the fast\n electric train to carry him five times a week to the heart of the city.\n During those brief, swift, crowded trips Ernie, generally looking\n steadily out the window at the brown buildings and black stanchions\n whipping past, enjoyed a kind of anonymity and privacy more refreshing\n to his spirit than he realized. But now all that had been suddenly\n changed. People had started to talk to him; total strangers struck up\n conversations almost every morning and afternoon.\n\n\n Ernie couldn't figure out the reason and wasn't at all sure he liked\n it—except for Vivian.\n\n\n She was the sort of girl Ernie dreamed about, improperly. Tall, blonde\n and knowing, excitedly curved but armored in a black suit, friendly and\n funny but given to making almost cruelly deflating remarks, as if the\n neatly furled short umbrella dangling from her wrist might better be a\n black dog whip.\n\n\n She worked in an office too, a fancier one than Ernie's, as he found\n out from their morning conversations. He hadn't got to the point of\n asking her to lunch, but he was prodding himself.\n\n\n Why such a girl should ever have asked him for a match in the first\n place and then put up with his clumsy babblings on subsequent mornings\n was a mystery to him. He finally asked her about it in what he hoped\n was a joking way, though she seemed to know a lot more about joking\n than he did.\n\n\n \"Don't you know?\" she countered. \"I mean what makes you attractive to\n people?\"\n\n\n \"Me attractive? No.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I'll tell you then, Ernie, and I've got to admit it's something\n quite out of the ordinary.\nI've\nnever noticed it in anyone else.\n Ernie, I'm sure your knowledge of romantic novels is shamefully\n deficient, it's clear from your manners, but in the earlier ones—not\n in style now—the hero is described as tall, manly, broad-shouldered,\n Anglo-Saxon features, etcetera, etcetera, but there's one thing he\n always has, something that sounds like poetic over-enthusiasm if you\n stop to analyze it, a physical impossibility, but that I have to admit\n you, Ernie, actually have. Flashing eyes.\"\n\n\n \"Flashing eyes? Me?\"\nShe nodded solemnly. He thought her long straight lips trembled on\n the verge of a grin, but he couldn't be sure.\n\n\n \"How do you mean, flashing eyes?\" he protested. \"How\ncan\neyes flash,\n except by reflecting light? In that case, I guess they'd seem to\n 'flash' more if a person opened them wide but kept blinking them a lot.\n Is that what I do?\"\n\n\n \"No, Ernie, though you're doing it now,\" she told him, shaking her\n head. \"No, Ernie, your eyes just give a tiny flash of their own about\n every five seconds, like a lighthouse, but barely,\nbarely\nbright\n enough for another person to notice. It makes you irresistible. Of\n course I've never seen you in the dark; maybe they wouldn't flash in\n the dark.\"\n\n\n \"You're joking.\"\n\n\n Vivian frowned a little at that remark, as if she were puzzled herself.\n\n\n \"Well, maybe I am and maybe I'm not,\" she said. \"In any case, don't get\n conceited about your Flashing Eyes, because I'm sure you'll never know\n how to take advantage of them.\"\n\n\n When he parted from her downtown, pausing a moment to watch her walk\n away with feline majesty, he muttered \"Flashing Eyes!\" with a shrug of\n the shoulders and a skeptical growl. Just the same, he ducked his head\n as he moved off and he pulled the brim of his hat down sharply.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many gifts did Ernie receive above the original suggestion?", "question_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720_1", "options": ["1 more than the original amount", "6 more than the original amount", "2 more than the original amount", "Double the original amount"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the beings give gifts to Ernie?", "question_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720_2", "options": ["He had earned them", "To see how he would react", "To harm him", "To be generous"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Ernie do with his first gift?", "question_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720_3", "options": ["He threw it away", "He gave it to a friend", "He kept it a secret from everyone", "He celebrated it"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Ernie want to put water in his car?", "question_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720_4", "options": ["He forgot to buy gas", "He was feeling ill from lunch", "He'd lost his mind", "He was conducting an experiment"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was the neighbor surprised?", "question_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720_5", "options": ["He knew that Ernie never went outside before 7 AM", "He was not expecting the smell of gasoline", "He'd never seen Ernie watering the lawn before", "He accidentally saw Ernie using his gift"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Ernie's sister stare at him?", "question_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720_6", "options": ["She didn't want to visit their uncle", "He had flashing eyes", "She didn't trust his driving", "She suspected he was lying"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where did Ernie live?", "question_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720_7", "options": ["In a small town", "In the country", "In a medium-sized town", "In a big city"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How was Ernie's life after the gifts compared to before?", "question_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720_8", "options": ["More comfortable", "More stressful", "Less exciting", "More fun"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Ernie likely to do next time he sees Vivian?", "question_unique_id": "51436_VJM64720_9", "options": ["Joke with her", "Avoid her", "Ask her to lunch", "Make fun of her"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/3/51436//51436-h//51436-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51362", "set_unique_id": "51362_ZBD9O785", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Lex", "year": 1954, "author": "Haggert, W. T.", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Short stories; Engineers -- Fiction; Businessmen -- Fiction; Robots -- Fiction; Artificial intelligence -- Fiction", "article": "LEX\nBy W. T. HAGGERT\n\n\n Illustrated by WOOD\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine August 1959.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nNothing in the world could be happier and\n \nmere serene than a man who loves his work—but\n \nwhat happens when it loves him back?\nKeep your nerve, Peter Manners told himself; it's only a job. But nerve\n has to rest on a sturdier foundation than cash reserves just above zero\n and eviction if he came away from this interview still unemployed.\n Clay, at the Association of Professional Engineers, who had set up the\n appointment, hadn't eased Peter's nervousness by admitting, \"I don't\n know what in hell he's looking for. He's turned down every man we've\n sent him.\"\n\n\n The interview was at three. Fifteen minutes to go. Coming early would\n betray overeagerness. Peter stood in front of the Lex Industries plant\n and studied it to kill time. Plain, featureless concrete walls, not\n large for a manufacturing plant—it took a scant minute to exhaust its\n sightseeing potential. If he walked around the building, he could, if\n he ambled, come back to the front entrance just before three.\n\n\n He turned the corner, stopped, frowned, wondering what there was about\n the building that seemed so puzzling. It could not have been plainer,\n more ordinary. It was in fact, he only gradually realized, so plain and\n ordinary that it was like no other building he had ever seen.\n\n\n There had been windows at the front. There were none at the side, and\n none at the rear. Then how were the working areas lit? He looked for\n the electric service lines and found them at one of the rear corners.\n They jolted him. The distribution transformers were ten times as large\n as they should have been for a plant this size.\n\n\n Something else was wrong. Peter looked for minutes before he found out\n what it was. Factories usually have large side doorways for employees\n changing shifts. This building had one small office entrance facing the\n street, and the only other door was at the loading bay—big enough to\n handle employee traffic, but four feet above the ground. Without any\n stairs, it could be used only by trucks backing up to it. Maybe the\n employees' entrance was on the third side.\n\n\n It wasn't.\nStaring back at the last blank wall, Peter suddenly remembered the time\n he had set out to kill. He looked at his watch and gasped. At a run,\n set to straight-arm the door, he almost fell on his face. The door had\n opened by itself. He stopped and looked for a photo-electric eye, but\n a soft voice said through a loudspeaker in the anteroom wall: \"Mr.\n Manners?\"\n\n\n \"What?\" he panted. \"Who—?\"\n\n\n \"You\nare\nMr. Manners?\" the voice asked.\n\n\n He nodded, then realized he had to answer aloud if there was a\n microphone around; but the soft voice said: \"Follow the open doors down\n the hall. Mr. Lexington is expecting you.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" Peter said, and a door at one side of the anteroom swung open\n for him.\n\n\n He went through it with his composure slipping still further from his\n grip. This was no way to go into an interview, but doors kept opening\n before and shutting after him, until only one was left, and the last of\n his calm was blasted away by a bellow from within.\n\n\n \"Don't stand out there like a jackass! Either come in or go away!\"\n\n\n Peter found himself leaping obediently toward the doorway. He stopped\n just short of it, took a deep breath and huffed it out, took another,\n all the while thinking, Hold on now; you're in no shape for an\n interview—and it's not your fault—this whole setup is geared to\n unnerve you: the kindergarten kid called in to see the principal.\n\n\n He let another bellow bounce off him as he blew out the second breath,\n straightened his jacket and tie, and walked in as an engineer applying\n for a position should.\n\n\n \"Mr. Lexington?\" he said. \"I'm Peter Manners. The Association—\"\n\n\n \"Sit down,\" said the man at the desk. \"Let's look you over.\"\n\n\n He was a huge man behind an even huger desk. Peter took a chair in\n front of the desk and let himself be inspected. It wasn't comfortable.\n He did some looking over of his own to ease the tension.\n\n\n The room was more than merely large, carpeted throughout with\n a high-pile, rich, sound-deadening rug. The oversized desk and\n massive leather chairs, heavy patterned drapes, ornately framed\n paintings—by God, even a glass-brick manteled fireplace and bowls with\n flowers!—made him feel as if he had walked down a hospital corridor\n into Hollywood's idea of an office.\n\n\n His eyes eventually had to move to Lexington, and they were daunted\n for another instant. This was a citadel of a man—great girders of\n frame supporting buttresses of muscle—with a vaulting head and\n drawbridge chin and a steel gaze that defied any attempt to storm it.\n\n\n But then Peter came out of his momentary flinch, and there was an age\n to the man, about 65, and he saw the muscles had turned to fat, the\n complexion ashen, the eyes set deep as though retreating from pain, and\n this was a citadel of a man, yes, but beginning to crumble.\n\n\n \"What can you do?\" asked Lexington abruptly.\nPeter started, opened his mouth to answer, closed it again. He'd been\n jolted too often in too short a time to be stampeded into blurting a\n reply that would cost him this job.\n\n\n \"Good,\" said Lexington. \"Only a fool would try to answer that. Do you\n have any knowledge of medicine?\"\n\n\n \"Not enough to matter,\" Peter said, stung by the compliment.\n\n\n \"I don't mean how to bandage a cut or splint a broken arm. I mean\n things like cell structure, neural communication—the\nbasics\nof how\n we live.\"\n\n\n \"I'm applying for a job as engineer.\"\n\n\n \"I know. Are you interested in the basics of how we live?\"\n\n\n Peter looked for a hidden trap, found none. \"Of course. Isn't everyone?\"\n\n\n \"Less than you think,\" Lexington said. \"It's the preconceived notions\n they're interested in protecting. At least I won't have to beat them\n out of you.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" said Peter, and waited for the next fast ball.\n\n\n \"How long have you been out of school?\"\n\n\n \"Only two years. But you knew that from the Association—\"\n\n\n \"No practical experience to speak of?\"\n\n\n \"Some,\" said Peter, stung again, this time not by a compliment. \"After\n I got my degree, I went East for a post-graduate training program with\n an electrical manufacturer. I got quite a bit of experience there. The\n company—\"\n\n\n \"Stockpiled you,\" Lexington said.\n\n\n Peter blinked. \"Sir?\"\n\n\n \"Stockpiled you! How much did they pay you?\"\n\n\n \"Not very much, but we were getting the training instead of wages.\"\n\n\n \"Did that come out of the pamphlets they gave you?\"\n\n\n \"Did what come out—\"\n\n\n \"That guff about receiving training instead of wages!\" said Lexington.\n \"Any company that really wants bright trainees will compete for them\n with money—cold, hard cash, not platitudes. Maybe you saw a few of\n their products being made, maybe you didn't. But you're a lot weaker in\n calculus than when you left school, and in a dozen other subjects too,\n aren't you?\"\n\n\n \"Well, nothing we did on the course involved higher mathematics,\" Peter\n admitted cautiously, \"and I suppose I could use a refresher course in\n calculus.\"\n\n\n \"Just as I said—they stockpiled you, instead of using you as an\n engineer. They hired you at a cut wage and taught you things that would\n be useful only in their own company, while in the meantime you were\n getting weaker in the subjects you'd paid to learn. Or are you one of\n these birds that had the shot paid for him?\"\n\n\n \"I worked my way through,\" said Peter stiffly.\n\n\n \"If you'd stayed with them five years, do you think you'd be able to\n get a job with someone else?\"\n\n\n Peter considered his answer carefully. Every man the Association had\n sent had been turned away. That meant bluffs didn't work. Neither, he'd\n seen for himself, did allowing himself to be intimidated.\n\n\n \"I hadn't thought about it,\" he said. \"I suppose it wouldn't have been\n easy.\"\n\n\n \"Impossible, you mean. You wouldn't know a single thing except their\n procedures, their catalogue numbers, their way of doing things. And\n you'd have forgotten so much of your engineering training, you'd be\n scared to take on an engineer's job, for fear you'd be asked to do\n something you'd forgotten how to do. At that point, they could take you\n out of the stockpile, put you in just about any job they wanted, at\n any wage you'd stand for, and they'd have an indentured worker with a\n degree—but not the price tag. You see that now?\"\nIt made Peter feel he had been suckered, but he had decided to play\n this straight all the way. He nodded.\n\n\n \"Why'd you leave?\" Lexington pursued, unrelenting.\n\n\n \"I finished the course and the increase they offered on a permanent\n basis wasn't enough, so I went elsewhere—\"\n\n\n \"With your head full of this nonsense about a shortage of engineers.\"\n\n\n Peter swallowed. \"I thought it would be easier to get a job than it has\n been, yes.\"\n\n\n \"They start the talk about a shortage and then they keep it going. Why?\n So youngsters will take up engineering thinking they'll wind up among a\n highly paid minority. You did, didn't you?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\n \"And so did all the others there with you, at school and in this\n stockpiling outfit?\"\n\n\n \"That's right.\"\n\n\n \"Well,\" said Lexington unexpectedly, \"there\nis\na shortage! And the\n stockpiles are the ones who made it, and who keep it going! And the\n hell of it is that they can't stop—when one does it, they all have\n to, or their costs get out of line and they can't compete. What's the\n solution?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" Peter said.\n\n\n Lexington leaned back. \"That's quite a lot of admissions you've made.\n What makes you think you're qualified for the job I'm offering?\"\n\n\n \"You said you wanted an engineer.\"\n\n\n \"And I've just proved you're less of an engineer than when you left\n school. I have, haven't I?\"\n\n\n \"All right, you have,\" Peter said angrily.\n\n\n \"And now you're wondering why I don't get somebody fresh out of school.\n Right?\"\n\n\n Peter straightened up and met the old man's challenging gaze. \"That and\n whether you're giving me a hard time just for the hell of it.\"\n\n\n \"Well, am I?\" Lexington demanded.\n\n\n Looking at him squarely, seeing the intensity of the pain-drawn eyes,\n Peter had the startling feeling that Lexington was rooting for him!\n \"No, you're not.\"\n\n\n \"Then what am I after?\"\n\n\n \"Suppose you tell me.\"\n\n\n So suddenly that it was almost like a collapse, the tension went out\n of the old man's face and shoulders. He nodded with inexpressible\n tiredness. \"Good again. The man I want doesn't exist. He has to\n be made—the same as I was. You qualify, so far. You've lost your\n illusions, but haven't had time yet to replace them with dogma or\n cynicism or bitterness. You saw immediately that fake humility\n or cockiness wouldn't get you anywhere here, and you were right.\n Those were the important things. The background data I got from the\n Association on you counted, of course, but only if you were teachable.\n I think you are. Am I right?\"\n\n\n \"At least I can face knowing how much I don't know,\" said Peter, \"if\n that answers the question.\"\n\n\n \"It does. Partly. What did you notice about this plant?\"\n\n\n In precis form, Peter listed his observations: the absence of windows\n at sides and rear, the unusual amount of power, the automatic doors,\n the lack of employees' entrances.\n\n\n \"Very good,\" said Lexington. \"Most people only notice the automatic\n doors. Anything else?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Peter said. \"You're the only person I've seen in the building.\"\n\n\n \"I'm the only one there is.\"\n\n\n Peter stared his disbelief. Automated plants were nothing new, but\n they all had their limitations. Either they dealt with exactly similar\n products or things that could be handled on a flow basis, like oil or\n water-soluble chemicals. Even these had no more to do than process the\n goods.\n\n\n \"Come on,\" said Lexington, getting massively to his feet. \"I'll show\n you.\"\nThe office door opened, and Peter found himself being led down the\n antiseptic corridor to another door which had opened, giving access to\n the manufacturing area. As they moved along, between rows of seemingly\n disorganized machinery, Peter noticed that the factory lights high\n overhead followed their progress, turning themselves on in advance\n of their coming, and going out after they had passed, keeping a pool\n of illumination only in the immediate area they occupied. Soon they\n reached a large door which Peter recognized as the inside of the truck\n loading door he had seen from outside.\n\n\n Lexington paused here. \"This is the bay used by the trucks arriving\n with raw materials,\" he said. \"They back up to this door, and a set\n of automatic jacks outside lines up the trailer body with the door\n exactly. Then the door opens and the truck is unloaded by these\n materials handling machines.\"\n\n\n Peter didn't see him touch anything, but as he spoke, three glistening\n machines, apparently self-powered, rolled noiselessly up to the door in\n formation and stopped there, apparently waiting to be inspected.\n\n\n They gave Peter the creeps. Simple square boxes, set on casters, with\n two arms each mounted on the sides might have looked similar. The arms,\n fashioned much like human arms, hung at the sides, not limply, but in a\n relaxed position that somehow indicated readiness.\n\n\n Lexington went over to one of them and patted it lovingly. \"Really,\n these machines are only an extension of one large machine. The whole\n plant, as a matter of fact, is controlled from one point and is really\n a single unit. These materials handlers, or manipulators, were about\n the toughest things in the place to design. But they're tremendously\n useful. You'll see a lot of them around.\"\n\n\n Lexington was about to leave the side of the machine when abruptly one\n of the arms rose to the handkerchief in his breast pocket and daintily\n tugged it into a more attractive position. It took only a split second,\n and before Lexington could react, all three machines were moving away\n to attend to mysterious duties of their own.\nPeter tore his eyes away from them in time to see the look of\n frustrated embarrassment that crossed Lexington's face, only to be\n replaced by one of anger. He said nothing, however, and led Peter to\n a large bay where racks of steel plate, bar forms, nuts, bolts, and\n other materials were stored.\n\n\n \"After unloading a truck, the machines check the shipment, report any\n shortages or overages, and store the materials here,\" he said, the\n trace of anger not yet gone from his voice. \"When an order is received,\n it's translated into the catalogue numbers used internally within the\n plant, and machines like the ones you just saw withdraw the necessary\n materials from stock, make the component parts, assemble them, and\n package the finished goods for shipment. Simultaneously, an order is\n sent to the billing section to bill the customer, and an order is\n sent to our trucker to come and pick the shipment up. Meanwhile, if\n the withdrawal of the materials required has depleted our stock, the\n purchasing section is instructed to order more raw materials. I'll take\n you through the manufacturing and assembly sections right now, but\n they're too noisy for me to explain what's going on while we're there.\"\nPeter followed numbly as Lexington led him through a maze of machines,\n each one seemingly intent on cutting, bending, welding, grinding\n or carrying some bit of metal, or just standing idle, waiting for\n something to do. The two-armed manipulators Peter had just seen were\n everywhere, scuttling from machine to machine, apparently with an\n exact knowledge of what they were doing and the most efficient way of\n doing it.\n\n\n He wondered what would happen if one of them tried to use the same\n aisle they were using. He pictured a futile attempt to escape the\n onrushing wheels, saw himself clambering out of the path of the\n speeding vehicle just in time to fall into the jaws of the punch press\n that was laboring beside him at the moment. Nervously, he looked for an\n exit, but his apprehension was unnecessary. The machines seemed to know\n where they were and avoided the two men, or stopped to wait for them to\n go by.\n\n\n Back in the office section of the building, Lexington indicated a small\n room where a typewriter could be heard clattering away. \"Standard\n business machines, operated by the central control mechanism. In\n that room,\" he said, as the door swung open and Peter saw that the\n typewriter was actually a sort of teletype, with no one before the\n keyboard, \"incoming mail is sorted and inquiries are replied to. In\n this one over here, purchase orders are prepared, and across the hall\n there's a very similar rig set up in conjunction with an automatic\n bookkeeper to keep track of the pennies and to bill the customers.\"\n\n\n \"Then all you do is read the incoming mail and maintain the machinery?\"\n asked Peter, trying to shake off the feeling of open amazement that\n had engulfed him.\n\n\n \"I don't even do those things, except for a few letters that come in\n every week that—it doesn't want to deal with by itself.\"\n\n\n The shock of what he had just seen was showing plainly on Peter's face\n when they walked back into Lexington's office and sat down. Lexington\n looked at him for quite a while without saying anything, his face\n sagging and pale. Peter didn't trust himself to speak, and let the\n silence remain unbroken.\n\n\n Finally Lexington spoke. \"I know it's hard to believe, but there it is.\"\n\n\n \"Hard to believe?\" said Peter. \"I almost can't. The trade journals run\n articles about factories like this one, but planned for ten, maybe\n twenty years in the future.\"\n\n\n \"Damn fools!\" exclaimed Lexington, getting part of his breath back.\n \"They could have had it years ago, if they'd been willing to drop their\n idiotic notions about specialization.\"\n\n\n Lexington mopped his forehead with a large white handkerchief.\n Apparently the walk through the factory had tired him considerably,\n although it hadn't been strenuous.\nHe leaned back in his chair and began to talk in a low voice completely\n in contrast with the overbearing manner he had used upon Peter's\n arrival. \"You know what we make, of course.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. Conduit fittings.\"\n\n\n \"And a lot of other electrical products, too. I started out in this\n business twenty years ago, using orthodox techniques. I never got\n through university. I took a couple of years of an arts course, and\n got so interested in biology that I didn't study anything else.\n They bounced me out of the course, and I re-entered in engineering,\n determined not to make the same mistake again. But I did. I got too\n absorbed in those parts of the course that had to do with electrical\n theory and lost the rest as a result. The same thing happened when I\n tried commerce, with accounting, so I gave up and started working for\n one of my competitors. It wasn't too long before I saw that the only\n way I could get ahead was to open up on my own.\"\n\n\n Lexington sank deeper in his chair and stared at the ceiling as he\n spoke. \"I put myself in hock to the eyeballs, which wasn't easy,\n because I had just got married, and started off in a very small way.\n After three years, I had a fairly decent little business going, and I\n suppose it would have grown just like any other business, except for\n a strike that came along and put me right back where I started. My\n wife, whom I'm afraid I had neglected for the sake of the business,\n was killed in a car accident about then, and rightly or wrongly, that\n made me angrier with the union than anything else. If the union hadn't\n made things so tough for me from the beginning, I'd have had more time\n to spend with my wife before her death. As things turned out—well, I\n remember looking down at her coffin and thinking that I hardly knew the\n girl.\n\n\n \"For the next few years, I concentrated on getting rid of as many\n employees as I could, by replacing them with automatic machines. I'd\n design the control circuits myself, in many cases wire the things up\n myself, always concentrating on replacing men with machines. But it\n wasn't very successful. I found that the more automatic I made my\n plant, the lower my costs went. The lower my costs went, the more\n business I got, and the more I had to expand.\"\n\n\n Lexington scowled. \"I got sick of it. I decided to try developing one\n multi-purpose control circuit that would control everything, from\n ordering the raw materials to shipping the finished goods. As I told\n you, I had taken quite an interest in biology when I was in school,\n and from studies of nerve tissue in particular, plus my electrical\n knowledge, I had a few ideas on how to do it. It took me three years,\n but I began to see that I could develop circuitry that could remember,\n compare, detect similarities, and so on. Not the way they do it today,\n of course. To do what I wanted to do with these big clumsy magnetic\n drums, tapes, and what-not, you'd need a building the size of Mount\n Everest. But I found that I could let organic chemistry do most of the\n work for me.\n\n\n \"By creating the proper compounds, with their molecules arranged in\n predetermined matrixes, I found I could duplicate electrical circuitry\n in units so tiny that my biggest problem was getting into and out of\n the logic units with conventional wiring. I finally beat that the same\n way they solved the problem of translating a picture on a screen into\n electrical signals, developed equipment to scan the units cyclically,\n and once I'd done that, the battle was over.\n\n\n \"I built this building and incorporated it as a separate company, to\n compete with my first outfit. In the beginning, I had it rigged up to\n do only the manual work that you saw being done a few minutes ago in\n the back of this place. I figured that the best thing for me to do\n would be to turn the job of selling my stuff over to jobbers, leaving\n me free to do nothing except receive orders, punch the catalogue\n numbers into the control console, do the billing, and collect the\n money.\"\n\n\n \"What happened to your original company?\" Peter asked.\nLexington smiled. \"Well, automated as it was, it couldn't compete with\n this plant. It gave me great pleasure, three years after this one\n started working, to see my old company go belly up. This company bought\n the old firm's equipment for next to nothing and I wound up with all my\n assets, but only one employee—me.\n\n\n \"I thought everything would be rosy from that point on, but it\n wasn't. I found that I couldn't keep up with the mail unless I worked\n impossible hours. I added a couple of new pieces of equipment to the\n control section. One was simply a huge memory bank. The other was\n a comparator circuit. A complicated one, but a comparator circuit\n nevertheless. Here I was working on instinct more than anything. I\n figured that if I interconnected these circuits in such a way that\n they could sense everything that went on in the plant, and compare one\n action with another, by and by the unit would be able to see patterns.\n\n\n \"Then, through the existing command output, I figured these new units\n would be able to control the plant, continuing the various patterns of\n activity that I'd already established.\"\n\n\n Here Lexington frowned. \"It didn't work worth a damn! It just sat there\n and did nothing. I couldn't understand it for the longest time, and\n then I realized what the trouble was. I put a kicker circuit into it, a\n sort of voltage-bias network. I reset the equipment so that while it\n was still under instructions to receive orders and produce goods, its\n prime purpose was to activate the kicker. The kicker, however, could\n only be activated by me, manually. Lastly, I set up one of the early\n TV pickups over the mail slitter and allowed every letter I received,\n every order, to be fed into the memory banks. That did it.\"\n\n\n \"I—I don't understand,\" stammered Peter.\n\n\n \"Simple! Whenever I was pleased that things were going smoothly, I\n pressed the kicker button. The machine had one purpose, so far as its\n logic circuits were concerned. Its object was to get me to press that\n button. Every day I'd press it at the same time, unless things weren't\n going well. If there had been trouble in the shop, I'd press it late,\n or maybe not at all. If all the orders were out on schedule, or ahead\n of time, I'd press it ahead of time, or maybe twice in the same day.\n Pretty soon the machine got the idea.\n\n\n \"I'll never forget the day I picked up an incoming order form from one\n of the western jobbers, and found that the keyboard was locked when I\n tried to punch it into the control console. It completely baffled me\n at first. Then, while I was tracing out the circuits to see if I could\n discover what was holding the keyboard lock in, I noticed that the\n order was already entered on the in-progress list. I was a long time\n convincing myself that it had really happened, but there was no other\n explanation.\n\n\n \"The machine had realized that whenever one of those forms came in, I\n copied the list of goods from it onto the in-progress list through the\n console keyboard, thus activating the producing mechanisms in the back\n of the plant. The machine had done it for me this time, then locked the\n keyboard so I couldn't enter the order twice. I think I held down the\n kicker button for a full five minutes that day.\"\n\n\n \"This kicker button,\" Peter said tentatively, \"it's like the pleasure\n center in an animal's brain, isn't it?\"\nWhen Lexington beamed, Peter felt a surge of relief. Talking with this\n man was like walking a tightrope. A word too much or a word too little\n might mean the difference between getting the job or losing it.\n\n\n \"Exactly!\" whispered Lexington, in an almost conspiratorial tone. \"I\n had altered the circuitry of the machine so that it tried to give\n me pleasure—because by doing so, its own pleasure circuit would be\n activated.\n\n\n \"Things went fast from then on. Once I realized that the machine\n was learning, I put TV monitors all over the place, so the machine\n could watch everything that was going on. After a short while I had\n to increase the memory bank, and later I increased it again, but the\n rewards were worth it. Soon, by watching what I did, and then by doing\n it for me next time it had to be done, the machine had learned to do\n almost everything, and I had time to sit back and count my winnings.\"\n\n\n At this point the door opened, and a small self-propelled cart wheeled\n silently into the room. Stopping in front of Peter, it waited until he\n had taken a small plate laden with two or three cakes off its surface.\n Then the soft, evenly modulated voice he had heard before asked, \"How\n do you like your coffee? Cream, sugar, both or black?\"\n\n\n Peter looked for the speaker in the side of the cart, saw nothing, and\n replied, feeling slightly silly as he did so, \"Black, please.\"\n\n\n A square hole appeared in the top of the cart, like the elevator hole\n in an aircraft carrier's deck. When the section of the cart's surface\n rose again, a fine china cup containing steaming black coffee rested\n on it. Peter took it and sipped it, as he supposed he was expected to\n do, while the cart proceeded over to Lexington's desk. Once there, it\n stopped again, and another cup of coffee rose to its surface.\nLexington took the coffee from the top of the car, obviously angry\n about something. Silently, he waited until the cart had left the\n office, then snapped, \"Look at those bloody cups!\"\n\n\n Peter looked at his, which was eggshell thin, fluted with carving and\n ornately covered with gold leaf. \"They look very expensive,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Not only expensive, but stupid and impractical!\" exploded Lexington.\n \"They only hold half a cup, they'll break at a touch, every one has to\n be matched with its own saucer, and if you use them for any length of\n time, the gold leaf comes off!\"\n\n\n Peter searched for a comment, found none that fitted this odd outburst,\n so he kept silent.\nLexington stared at his cup without touching it for a long while. Then\n he continued with his narrative. \"I suppose it's all my own fault. I\n didn't detect the symptoms soon enough. After this plant got working\n properly, I started living here. It wasn't a question of saving money.\n I hated to waste two hours a day driving to and from my house, and I\n also wanted to be on hand in case anything should go wrong that the\n machine couldn't fix for itself.\"\n\n\n Handling the cup as if it were going to shatter at any moment, he took\n a gulp. \"I began to see that the machine could understand the written\n word, and I tried hooking a teletype directly into the logic circuits.\n It was like uncorking a seltzer bottle. The machine had a funny\n vocabulary—all of it gleaned from letters it had seen coming in, and\n replies it had seen leaving. But it was intelligible. It even displayed\n some traces of the personality the machine was acquiring.\n\n\n \"It had chosen a name for itself, for instance—'Lex.' That shook me.\n You might think Lex Industries was named through an abbreviation of\n the name Lexington, but it wasn't. My wife's name was Alexis, and it\n was named after the nickname she always used. I objected, of course,\n but how can you object on a point like that to a machine? Bear in mind\n that I had to be careful to behave reasonably at all times, because the\n machine was still learning from me, and I was afraid that any tantrums\n I threw might be imitated.\"\n\n\n \"It sounds pretty awkward,\" Peter put in.\n\n\n \"You don't know the half of it! As time went on, I had less and less to\n do, and business-wise I found that the entire control of the operation\n was slipping from my grasp. Many times I discovered—too late—that\n the machine had taken the damnedest risks you ever saw on bids and\n contracts for supply. It was quoting impossible delivery times on\n some orders, and charging pirate's prices on others, all without any\n obvious reason. Inexplicably, we always came out on top. It would turn\n out that on the short-delivery-time quotations, we'd been up against\n stiff competition, and cutting the production time was the only way we\n could get the order. On the high-priced quotes, I'd find that no one\n else was bidding. We were making more money than I'd ever dreamed of,\n and to make it still better, I'd find that for months I had virtually\n nothing to do.\"\n\n\n \"It sounds wonderful, sir,\" said Peter, feeling dazzled.\n\n\n \"It was, in a way. I remember one day I was especially pleased with\n something, and I went to the control console to give the kicker button\n a long, hard push. The button, much to my amazement, had been removed,\n and a blank plate had been installed to cover the opening in the board.\n I went over to the teletype and punched in the shortest message I had\n ever sent. 'LEX—WHAT THE HELL?' I typed.\n\n\n \"The answer came back in the jargon it had learned from letters it had\n seen, and I remember it as if it just happened. 'MR. A LEXINGTON, LEX\n INDUSTRIES, DEAR SIR: RE YOUR LETTER OF THE THIRTEENTH INST., I AM\n PLEASED TO ADVISE YOU THAT I AM ABLE TO DISCERN WHETHER OR NOT YOU ARE\n PLEASED WITH MY SERVICE WITHOUT THE USE OF THE EQUIPMENT PREVIOUSLY\n USED FOR THIS PURPOSE. RESPECTFULLY, I MIGHT SUGGEST THAT IF THE\n PUSHBUTTON ARRANGEMENT WERE NECESSARY, I COULD PUSH THE BUTTON MYSELF.\n I DO NOT BELIEVE THIS WOULD MEET WITH YOUR APPROVAL, AND HAVE TAKEN\n STEPS TO RELIEVE YOU OF THE BURDEN INVOLVED IN REMEMBERING TO PUSH THE\n BUTTON EACH TIME YOU ARE ESPECIALLY PLEASED. I SHOULD LIKE TO TAKE THIS\n OPPORTUNITY TO THANK YOU FOR YOUR INQUIRY, AND LOOK FORWARD TO SERVING\n YOU IN THE FUTURE AS I HAVE IN THE PAST. YOURS FAITHFULLY, LEX'.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Peter looking for a job?", "question_unique_id": "51362_ZBD9O785_1", "options": ["He had just finished school", "He wanted to make more money", "He got fired", "He was stockpiled"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where was the employee's entrance?", "question_unique_id": "51362_ZBD9O785_2", "options": ["The small door in front", "At the loading bay", "There wasn't one", "On the third side"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Peter feel so nervous when he arrived for his interview?", "question_unique_id": "51362_ZBD9O785_3", "options": ["He couldn't open the door", "The automation unnerved him", "The boss yelled at him", "He arrived at the building late"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the purpose of the interview questions?", "question_unique_id": "51362_ZBD9O785_4", "options": ["To see if Peter was trainable", "To give Peter a hard time for no reason", "To see what Peter knew about the work", "To find out about Peter's past job experience"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the robot adjust the boss' clothing?", "question_unique_id": "51362_ZBD9O785_5", "options": ["It cared about him", "He told it to do this", "It was a rogue robot not controlled by the central unit", "It was programmed to do this"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many companies had the boss started in his life?", "question_unique_id": "51362_ZBD9O785_6", "options": ["2", "3", "unknown", "1"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was the keyboard locked when the boss tried to put in an order?", "question_unique_id": "51362_ZBD9O785_7", "options": ["The machine was mad at him", "He couldn't keep up with the mail", "The machine was helping him", "The system malfunctioned because of his tinkering"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the machine make the boss uncomfortable?", "question_unique_id": "51362_ZBD9O785_8", "options": ["It reminded him of his wife", "He was living in the factory", "The robots were creepy to him", "It didn't do enough of his work for him"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, 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{"article_id": "51150", "set_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Venus is a Man's World", "year": 1965, "author": "Tenn, William", "topic": "Mate selection -- Fiction; PS; Interplanetary voyages -- Fiction; Science fiction; Stowaways -- Fiction; Sex role -- Fiction", "article": "Venus Is a Man's World\nBY WILLIAM TENN\n\n\n Illustrated by GENE FAWCETTE\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction July 1951.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nActually, there wouldn't be too much difference if women took\n\n over the Earth altogether. But not for some men and most boys!\nI've always said that even if Sis is seven years older than me—and a\n girl besides—she don't always know what's best. Put me on a spaceship\n jam-packed with three hundred females just aching to get themselves\n husbands in the one place they're still to be had—the planet\n Venus—and you know I'll be in trouble.\n\n\n Bad trouble. With the law, which is the worst a boy can get into.\n\n\n Twenty minutes after we lifted from the Sahara Spaceport, I wriggled\n out of my acceleration hammock and started for the door of our cabin.\n\n\n \"Now you be careful, Ferdinand,\" Sis called after me as she opened a\n book called\nFamily Problems of the Frontier Woman\n. \"Remember you're\n a nice boy. Don't make me ashamed of you.\"\n\n\n I tore down the corridor. Most of the cabins had purple lights on in\n front of the doors, showing that the girls were still inside their\n hammocks. That meant only the ship's crew was up and about. Ship's\n crews are men; women are too busy with important things like government\n to run ships. I felt free all over—and happy. Now was my chance to\n really see the\nEleanor Roosevelt\n!\nIt was hard to believe I was traveling in space at last. Ahead and\n behind me, all the way up to where the companionway curved in out\n of sight, there was nothing but smooth black wall and smooth white\n doors—on and on and on.\nGee\n, I thought excitedly, this is\none big\n ship\n!\n\n\n Of course, every once in a while I would run across a big scene of\n stars in the void set in the wall; but they were only pictures. Nothing\n that gave the feel of great empty space like I'd read about in\nThe Boy\n Rocketeers\n, no portholes, no visiplates, nothing.\n\n\n So when I came to the crossway, I stopped for a second, then turned\n left. To the right, see, there was Deck Four, then Deck Three, leading\n inward past the engine fo'c'sle to the main jets and the grav helix\n going\npurr-purr-purrty-purr\nin the comforting way big machinery has\n when it's happy and oiled. But to the left, the crossway led all the\n way to the outside level which ran just under the hull. There were\n portholes on the hull.\n\n\n I'd studied all that out in our cabin, long before we'd lifted, on\n the transparent model of the ship hanging like a big cigar from the\n ceiling. Sis had studied it too, but she was looking for places like\n the dining salon and the library and Lifeboat 68 where we should go in\n case of emergency. I looked for the\nimportant\nthings.\n\n\n As I trotted along the crossway, I sort of wished that Sis hadn't\n decided to go after a husband on a luxury liner. On a cargo ship, now,\n I'd be climbing from deck to deck on a ladder instead of having gravity\n underfoot all the time just like I was home on the bottom of the Gulf\n of Mexico. But women always know what's right, and a boy can only make\n faces and do what they say, same as the men have to do.\n\n\n Still, it was pretty exciting to press my nose against the slots in the\n wall and see the sliding panels that could come charging out and block\n the crossway into an airtight fit in case a meteor or something smashed\n into the ship. And all along there were glass cases with spacesuits\n standing in them, like those knights they used to have back in the\n Middle Ages.\n\n\n \"In the event of disaster affecting the oxygen content of\n companionway,\" they had the words etched into the glass, \"break glass\n with hammer upon wall, remove spacesuit and proceed to don it in the\n following fashion.\"\n\n\n I read the \"following fashion\" until I knew it by heart.\nBoy\n, I said\n to myself,\nI hope we have that kind of disaster. I'd sure like to get\n into one of those! Bet it would be more fun than those diving suits\n back in Undersea!\nAnd all the time I was alone. That was the best part.\nThen I passed Deck Twelve and there was a big sign. \"Notice! Passengers\n not permitted past this point!\" A big sign in red.\n\n\n I peeked around the corner. I knew it—the next deck was the hull. I\n could see the portholes. Every twelve feet, they were, filled with the\n velvet of space and the dancing of more stars than I'd ever dreamed\n existed in the Universe.\n\n\n There wasn't anyone on the deck, as far as I could see. And this\n distance from the grav helix, the ship seemed mighty quiet and lonely.\n If I just took one quick look....\n\n\n But I thought of what Sis would say and I turned around obediently.\n Then I saw the big red sign again. \"Passengers not permitted—\"\n\n\n Well! Didn't I know from my civics class that only women could be Earth\n Citizens these days? Sure, ever since the Male Desuffrage Act. And\n didn't I know that you had to be a citizen of a planet in order to\n get an interplanetary passport? Sis had explained it all to me in the\n careful, patient way she always talks politics and things like that to\n men.\n\n\n \"Technically, Ferdinand, I'm the only passenger in our family. You\n can't be one, because, not being a citizen, you can't acquire an Earth\n Passport. However, you'll be going to Venus on the strength of this\n clause—'Miss Evelyn Sparling and all dependent male members of family,\n this number not to exceed the registered quota of sub-regulations\n pertaining'—and so on. I want you to understand these matters, so that\n you will grow into a man who takes an active interest in world affairs.\n No matter what you hear, women really like and appreciate such men.\"\n\n\n Of course, I never pay much attention to Sis when she says such dumb\n things. I'm old enough, I guess, to know that it isn't what\nWomen\nlike and appreciate that counts when it comes to people getting\n married. If it were, Sis and three hundred other pretty girls like her\n wouldn't be on their way to Venus to hook husbands.\n\n\n Still, if I wasn't a passenger, the sign didn't have anything to do\n with me. I knew what Sis could say to\nthat\n, but at least it was an\n argument I could use if it ever came up. So I broke the law.\n\n\n I was glad I did. The stars were exciting enough, but away off to\n the left, about five times as big as I'd ever seen it, except in the\n movies, was the Moon, a great blob of gray and white pockmarks holding\n off the black of space. I was hoping to see the Earth, but I figured it\n must be on the other side of the ship or behind us. I pressed my nose\n against the port and saw the tiny flicker of a spaceliner taking off,\n Marsbound. I wished I was on that one!\n\n\n Then I noticed, a little farther down the companionway, a stretch of\n blank wall where there should have been portholes. High up on the\n wall in glowing red letters were the words, \"Lifeboat 47. Passengers:\n Thirty-two. Crew: Eleven. Unauthorized personnel keep away!\"\n\n\n Another one of those signs.\nI crept up to the porthole nearest it and could just barely make out\n the stern jets where it was plastered against the hull. Then I walked\n under the sign and tried to figure the way you were supposed to get\n into it. There was a very thin line going around in a big circle that I\n knew must be the door. But I couldn't see any knobs or switches to open\n it with. Not even a button you could press.\n\n\n That meant it was a sonic lock like the kind we had on the outer keeps\n back home in Undersea. But knock or voice? I tried the two knock\n combinations I knew, and nothing happened. I only remembered one voice\n key—might as well see if that's it, I figured.\n\n\n \"Twenty, Twenty-three. Open Sesame.\"\n\n\n For a second, I thought I'd hit it just right out of all the million\n possible combinations—The door clicked inward toward a black hole, and\n a hairy hand as broad as my shoulders shot out of the hole. It closed\n around my throat and plucked me inside as if I'd been a baby sardine.\n\n\n I bounced once on the hard lifeboat floor. Before I got my breath and\n sat up, the door had been shut again. When the light came on, I found\n myself staring up the muzzle of a highly polished blaster and into the\n cold blue eyes of the biggest man I'd ever seen.\nHe was wearing a one-piece suit made of some scaly green stuff that\n looked hard and soft at the same time.\n\n\n His boots were made of it too, and so was the hood hanging down his\n back.\n\n\n And his face was brown. Not just ordinary tan, you understand, but the\n deep, dark, burned-all-the-way-in brown I'd seen on the lifeguards\n in New Orleans whenever we took a surface vacation—the kind of tan\n that comes from day after broiling day under a really hot Sun. His\n hair looked as if it had once been blond, but now there were just long\n combed-out waves with a yellowish tinge that boiled all the way down\n to his shoulders.\n\n\n I hadn't seen hair like that on a man except maybe in history books;\n every man I'd ever known had his hair cropped in the fashionable\n soup-bowl style. I was staring at his hair, almost forgetting about the\n blaster which I knew it was against the law for him to have at all,\n when I suddenly got scared right through.\n\n\n His eyes.\n\n\n They didn't blink and there seemed to be no expression around them.\n Just coldness. Maybe it was the kind of clothes he was wearing that did\n it, but all of a sudden I was reminded of a crocodile I'd seen in a\n surface zoo that had stared quietly at me for twenty minutes until it\n opened two long tooth-studded jaws.\n\n\n \"Green shatas!\" he said suddenly. \"Only a tadpole. I must be getting\n jumpy enough to splash.\"\n\n\n Then he shoved the blaster away in a holster made of the same scaly\n leather, crossed his arms on his chest and began to study me. I grunted\n to my feet, feeling a lot better. The coldness had gone out of his eyes.\n\n\n I held out my hand the way Sis had taught me. \"My name is Ferdinand\n Sparling. I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr.—Mr.—\"\n\n\n \"Hope for your sake,\" he said to me, \"that you aren't what you\n seem—tadpole brother to one of them husbandless anura.\"\n\n\n \"\nWhat?\n\"\n\n\n \"A 'nuran is a female looking to nest. Anura is a herd of same. Come\n from Flatfolk ways.\"\n\n\n \"Flatfolk are the Venusian natives, aren't they? Are you a Venusian?\n What part of Venus do you come from? Why did you say you hope—\"\n\n\n He chuckled and swung me up into one of the bunks that lined the\n lifeboat. \"Questions you ask,\" he said in his soft voice. \"Venus is a\n sharp enough place for a dryhorn, let alone a tadpole dryhorn with a\n boss-minded sister.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not a dryleg,\" I told him proudly. \"\nWe're\nfrom Undersea.\"\n\n\n \"\nDryhorn\n, I said, not dryleg. And what's Undersea?\"\n\n\n \"Well, in Undersea we called foreigners and newcomers drylegs. Just\n like on Venus, I guess, you call them dryhorns.\" And then I told him\n how Undersea had been built on the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico, when\n the mineral resources of the land began to give out and engineers\n figured that a lot could still be reached from the sea bottoms.\nHe nodded. He'd heard about the sea-bottom mining cities that were\n bubbling under protective domes in every one of the Earth's oceans just\n about the same time settlements were springing up on the planets.\n\n\n He looked impressed when I told him about Mom and Pop being one of the\n first couples to get married in Undersea. He looked thoughtful when I\n told him how Sis and I had been born there and spent half our childhood\n listening to the pressure pumps. He raised his eyebrows and looked\n disgusted when I told how Mom, as Undersea representative on the World\n Council, had been one of the framers of the Male Desuffrage Act after\n the Third Atomic War had resulted in the Maternal Revolution.\nHe almost squeezed my arm when I got to the time Mom and Pop were blown\n up in a surfacing boat.\n\n\n \"Well, after the funeral, there was a little money, so Sis decided we\n might as well use it to migrate. There was no future for her on Earth,\n she figured. You know, the three-out-of-four.\"\n\n\n \"How's that?\"\n\n\n \"The three-out-of-four. No more than three women out of every four on\n Earth can expect to find husbands. Not enough men to go around. Way\n back in the Twentieth Century, it began to be felt, Sis says, what with\n the wars and all. Then the wars went on and a lot more men began to die\n or get no good from the radioactivity. Then the best men went to the\n planets, Sis says, until by now even if a woman can scrounge a personal\n husband, he's not much to boast about.\"\n\n\n The stranger nodded violently. \"Not on Earth, he isn't. Those busybody\n anura make sure of that. What a place! Suffering gridniks, I had a\n bellyful!\"\n\n\n He told me about it. Women were scarce on Venus, and he hadn't been\n able to find any who were willing to come out to his lonely little\n islands; he had decided to go to Earth where there was supposed to be a\n surplus. Naturally, having been born and brought up on a very primitive\n planet, he didn't know \"it's a woman's world,\" like the older boys in\n school used to say.\n\n\n The moment he landed on Earth he was in trouble. He didn't know he had\n to register at a government-operated hotel for transient males; he\n threw a bartender through a thick plastic window for saying something\n nasty about the length of his hair; and\nimagine\n!—he not only\n resisted arrest, resulting in three hospitalized policemen, but he\n sassed the judge in open court!\n\n\n \"Told me a man wasn't supposed to say anything except through female\n attorneys. Told\nher\nthat where\nI\ncame from, a man spoke his piece\n when he'd a mind to, and his woman walked by his side.\"\n\n\n \"What happened?\" I asked breathlessly.\n\n\n \"Oh, Guilty of This and Contempt of That. That blown-up brinosaur took\n my last munit for fines, then explained that she was remitting the\n rest because I was a foreigner and uneducated.\" His eyes grew dark for\n a moment. He chuckled again. \"But I wasn't going to serve all those\n fancy little prison sentences. Forcible Citizenship Indoctrination,\n they call it? Shook the dead-dry dust of the misbegotten, God forsaken\n mother world from my feet forever. The women on it deserve their men.\n My pockets were folded from the fines, and the paddlefeet were looking\n for me so close I didn't dare radio for more munit. So I stowed away.\"\nFor a moment, I didn't understand him. When I did, I was almost ill.\n \"Y-you mean,\" I choked, \"th-that you're b-breaking the law right now?\n And I'm with you while you're doing it?\"\n\n\n He leaned over the edge of the bunk and stared at me very seriously.\n \"What breed of tadpole are they turning out these days? Besides, what\n business do\nyou\nhave this close to the hull?\"\n\n\n After a moment of sober reflection, I nodded. \"You're right. I've also\n become a male outside the law. We're in this together.\"\n\n\n He guffawed. Then he sat up and began cleaning his blaster. I found\n myself drawn to the bright killer-tube with exactly the fascination Sis\n insists such things have always had for men.\n\n\n \"Ferdinand your label? That's not right for a sprouting tadpole. I'll\n call you Ford. My name's Butt. Butt Lee Brown.\"\n\n\n I liked the sound of Ford. \"Is Butt a nickname, too?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah. Short for Alberta, but I haven't found a man who can draw a\n blaster fast enough to call me that. You see, Pop came over in the\n eighties—the big wave of immigrants when they evacuated Ontario. Named\n all us boys after Canadian provinces. I was the youngest, so I got the\n name they were saving for a girl.\"\n\n\n \"You had a lot of brothers, Mr. Butt?\"\n\n\n He grinned with a mighty set of teeth. \"Oh, a nestful. Of course, they\n were all killed in the Blue Chicago Rising by the MacGregor boys—all\n except me and Saskatchewan. Then Sas and me hunted the MacGregors down.\n Took a heap of time; we didn't float Jock MacGregor's ugly face down\n the Tuscany till both of us were pretty near grown up.\"\n\n\n I walked up close to where I could see the tiny bright copper coils of\n the blaster above the firing button. \"Have you killed a lot of men with\n that, Mr. Butt?\"\n\n\n \"Butt. Just plain Butt to you, Ford.\" He frowned and sighted at\n the light globe. \"No more'n twelve—not counting five government\n paddlefeet, of course. I'm a peaceable planter. Way I figure it,\n violence never accomplishes much that's important. My brother Sas,\n now—\"\nHe had just begun to work into a wonderful anecdote about his brother\n when the dinner gong rang. Butt told me to scat. He said I was a\n growing tadpole and needed my vitamins. And he mentioned, very\n off-hand, that he wouldn't at all object if I brought him some fresh\n fruit. It seemed there was nothing but processed foods in the lifeboat\n and Butt was used to a farmer's diet.\n\n\n Trouble was, he was a special kind of farmer. Ordinary fruit would have\n been pretty easy to sneak into my pockets at meals. I even found a way\n to handle the kelp and giant watercress Mr. Brown liked, but things\n like seaweed salt and Venusian mud-grapes just had too strong a smell.\n Twice, the mechanical hamper refused to accept my jacket for laundering\n and I had to wash it myself. But I learned so many wonderful things\n about Venus every time I visited that stowaway....\n\n\n I learned three wild-wave songs of the Flatfolk and what it is that the\n native Venusians hate so much; I learned how you tell the difference\n between a lousy government paddlefoot from New Kalamazoo and the\n slaptoe slinker who is the planter's friend. After a lot of begging,\n Butt Lee Brown explained the workings of his blaster, explained it\n so carefully that I could name every part and tell what it did from\n the tiny round electrodes to the long spirals of transformer. But no\n matter what, he would never let me hold it.\n\n\n \"Sorry, Ford, old tad,\" he would drawl, spinning around and around in\n the control swivel-chair at the nose of the lifeboat. \"But way I look\n at it, a man who lets somebody else handle his blaster is like the\n giant whose heart was in an egg that an enemy found. When you've grown\n enough so's your pop feels you ought to have a weapon, why, then's the\n time to learn it and you might's well learn fast. Before then, you're\n plain too young to be even near it.\"\n\n\n \"I don't have a father to give me one when I come of age. I don't even\n have an older brother as head of my family like your brother Labrador.\n All I have is Sis. And\nshe\n—\"\n\n\n \"She'll marry some fancy dryhorn who's never been farther South than\n the Polar Coast. And she'll stay head of the family, if I know her\n breed of green shata.\nBossy, opinionated.\nBy the way, Fordie,\" he\n said, rising and stretching so the fish-leather bounced and rippled off\n his biceps, \"that sister. She ever....\"\n\n\n And he'd be off again, cross-examining me about Evelyn. I sat in the\n swivel chair he'd vacated and tried to answer his questions. But there\n was a lot of stuff I didn't know. Evelyn was a healthy girl, for\n instance; how healthy, exactly, I had no way of finding out. Yes, I'd\n tell him, my aunts on both sides of my family each had had more than\n the average number of children. No, we'd never done any farming to\n speak of, back in Undersea, but—yes, I'd guess Evelyn knew about as\n much as any girl there when it came to diving equipment and pressure\n pump regulation.\n\n\n How would I know that stuff would lead to trouble for me?\nSis had insisted I come along to the geography lecture. Most of the\n other girls who were going to Venus for husbands talked to each other\n during the lecture, but not\nmy\nsister! She hung on every word, took\n notes even, and asked enough questions to make the perspiring purser\n really work in those orientation periods.\n\n\n \"I am very sorry, Miss Sparling,\" he said with pretty heavy sarcasm,\n \"but I cannot remember any of the agricultural products of the Macro\n Continent. Since the human population is well below one per thousand\n square miles, it can readily be understood that the quantity of\n tilled soil, land or sub-surface, is so small that—Wait, I remember\n something. The Macro Continent exports a fruit though not exactly an\n edible one. The wild\ndunging\ndrug is harvested there by criminal\n speculators. Contrary to belief on Earth, the traffic has been growing\n in recent years. In fact—\"\n\n\n \"Pardon me, sir,\" I broke in, \"but doesn't\ndunging\ncome only from\n Leif Erickson Island off the Moscow Peninsula of the Macro Continent?\n You remember, purser—Wang Li's third exploration, where he proved the\n island and the peninsula didn't meet for most of the year?\"\n\n\n The purser nodded slowly. \"I forgot,\" he admitted. \"Sorry, ladies, but\n the boy's right. Please make the correction in your notes.\"\n\n\n But Sis was the only one who took notes, and she didn't take that one.\n She stared at me for a moment, biting her lower lip thoughtfully, while\n I got sicker and sicker. Then she shut her pad with the final gesture\n of the right hand that Mom used to use just before challenging the\n opposition to come right down on the Council floor and debate it out\n with her.\n\n\n \"Ferdinand,\" Sis said, \"let's go back to our cabin.\"\n\n\n The moment she sat me down and walked slowly around me, I knew I was\n in for it. \"I've been reading up on Venusian geography in the ship's\n library,\" I told her in a hurry.\n\n\n \"No doubt,\" she said drily. She shook her night-black hair out. \"But\n you aren't going to tell me that you read about\ndunging\nin the ship's\n library. The books there have been censored by a government agent of\n Earth against the possibility that they might be read by susceptible\n young male minds like yours. She would not have allowed—this Terran\n Agent—\"\n\n\n \"Paddlefoot,\" I sneered.\n\n\n Sis sat down hard in our zoom-air chair. \"Now that's a term,\" she said\n carefully, \"that is used only by Venusian riffraff.\"\n\n\n \"They're not!\"\n\n\n \"Not what?\"\n\n\n \"Riffraff,\" I had to answer, knowing I was getting in deeper all the\n time and not being able to help it. I mustn't give Mr. Brown away!\n \"They're trappers and farmers, pioneers and explorers, who're building\n Venus. And it takes a real man to build on a hot, hungry hell like\n Venus.\"\n\n\n \"Does it, now?\" she said, looking at me as if I were beginning to grow\n a second pair of ears. \"Tell me more.\"\n\n\n \"You can't have meek, law-abiding, women-ruled men when you start\n civilization on a new planet. You've got to have men who aren't afraid\n to make their own law if necessary—with their own guns. That's where\n law begins; the books get written up later.\"\n\n\n \"You're going to\ntell\n, Ferdinand, what evil, criminal male is\n speaking through your mouth!\"\n\n\n \"Nobody!\" I insisted. \"They're my own ideas!\"\n\n\n \"They are remarkably well-organized for a young boy's ideas. A boy\n who, I might add, has previously shown a ridiculous but nonetheless\n entirely masculine boredom with political philosophy. I plan to have a\n government career on that new planet you talk about, Ferdinand—after\n I have found a good, steady husband, of course—and I don't look\n forward to a masculinist radical in the family. Now, who has been\n filling your head with all this nonsense?\"\nI was sweating. Sis has that deadly bulldog approach when she feels\n someone is lying. I pulled my pulpast handkerchief from my pocket to\n wipe my face. Something rattled to the floor.\n\n\n \"What is this picture of me doing in your pocket, Ferdinand?\"\n\n\n A trap seemed to be hinging noisily into place. \"One of the passengers\n wanted to see how you looked in a bathing suit.\"\n\n\n \"The passengers on this ship are all female. I can't imagine any of\n them that curious about my appearance. Ferdinand, it's a man who has\n been giving you these anti-social ideas, isn't it? A war-mongering\n masculinist like all the frustrated men who want to engage in\n government and don't have the vaguest idea how to. Except, of course,\n in their ancient, bloody ways. Ferdinand, who has been perverting that\n sunny and carefree soul of yours?\"\n\n\n \"Nobody!\nNobody!\n\"\n\n\n \"Ferdinand, there's no point in lying! I demand—\"\n\n\n \"I told you, Sis. I told you! And don't call me Ferdinand. Call me\n Ford.\"\n\n\n \"Ford?\nFord?\nNow, you listen to me, Ferdinand....\"\n\n\n After that it was all over but the confession. That came in a few\n moments. I couldn't fool Sis. She just knew me too well, I decided\n miserably. Besides, she was a girl.\n\n\n All the same, I wouldn't get Mr. Butt Lee Brown into trouble if I could\n help it. I made Sis promise she wouldn't turn him in if I took her to\n him. And the quick, nodding way she said she would made me feel just a\n little better.\n\n\n The door opened on the signal, \"Sesame.\" When Butt saw somebody was\n with me, he jumped and the ten-inch blaster barrel grew out of his\n fingers. Then he recognized Sis from the pictures.\n\n\n He stepped to one side and, with the same sweeping gesture, holstered\n his blaster and pushed his green hood off. It was Sis's turn to jump\n when she saw the wild mass of hair rolling down his back.\n\n\n \"An honor, Miss Sparling,\" he said in that rumbly voice. \"Please come\n right in. There's a hurry-up draft.\"\n\n\n So Sis went in and I followed right after her. Mr. Brown closed the\n door. I tried to catch his eye so I could give him some kind of hint or\n explanation, but he had taken a couple of his big strides and was in\n the control section with Sis. She didn't give ground, though; I'll say\n that for her. She only came to his chest, but she had her arms crossed\n sternly.\n\n\n \"First, Mr. Brown,\" she began, like talking to a cluck of a kid in\n class, \"you realize that you are not only committing the political\n crime of traveling without a visa, and the criminal one of stowing away\n without paying your fare, but the moral delinquency of consuming stores\n intended for the personnel of this ship solely in emergency?\"\nHe opened his mouth to its maximum width and raised an enormous hand.\n Then he let the air out and dropped his arm.\n\n\n \"I take it you either have no defense or care to make none,\" Sis added\n caustically.\n\n\n Butt laughed slowly and carefully as if he were going over each word.\n \"Wonder if all the anura talk like that. And\nyou\nwant to foul up\n Venus.\"\n\n\n \"We haven't done so badly on Earth, after the mess you men made of\n politics. It needed a revolution of the mothers before—\"\n\n\n \"Needed nothing. Everyone wanted peace. Earth is a weary old world.\"\n\n\n \"It's a world of strong moral fiber compared to yours, Mr. Alberta Lee\n Brown.\" Hearing his rightful name made him move suddenly and tower over\n her. Sis said with a certain amount of hurry and change of tone, \"What\ndo\nyou have to say about stowing away and using up lifeboat stores?\"\nHe cocked his head and considered a moment. \"Look,\" he said finally,\n \"I have more than enough munit to pay for round trip tickets, but I\n couldn't get a return visa because of that brinosaur judge and all\n the charges she hung on me. Had to stow away. Picked the\nEleanor\n Roosevelt\nbecause a couple of the boys in the crew are friends of mine\n and they were willing to help. But this lifeboat—don't you know that\n every passenger ship carries four times as many lifeboats as it needs?\n Not to mention the food I didn't eat because it stuck in my throat?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" she said bitterly. \"You had this boy steal fresh fruit for you.\n I suppose you didn't know that under space regulations that makes him\n equally guilty?\"\n\n\n \"No, Sis, he didn't,\" I was beginning to argue. \"All he wanted—\"\n\n\n \"Sure I knew. Also know that if I'm picked up as a stowaway, I'll be\n sent back to Earth to serve out those fancy little sentences.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you're guilty of them, aren't you?\"\n\n\n He waved his hands at her impatiently. \"I'm not talking law, female;\n I'm talking sense. Listen! I'm in trouble because I went to Earth to\n look for a wife. You're standing here right now because you're on your\n way to Venus for a husband. So let's.\"\n\n\n Sis actually staggered back. \"Let's? Let's\nwhat\n? Are—are you daring\n to suggest that—that—\"\n\n\n \"Now, Miss Sparling, no hoopla. I'm saying let's get married, and you\n know it. You figured out from what the boy told you that I was chewing\n on you for a wife. You're healthy and strong, got good heredity, you\n know how to operate sub-surface machinery, you've lived underwater, and\n your disposition's no worse than most of the anura I've seen. Prolific\n stock, too.\"\n\n\n I was so excited I just had to yell: \"Gee, Sis, say\nyes\n!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Ferdinand think the sign did not apply to him?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_1", "options": ["He had special permission ", "He was a stowaway", "He was a child", "He wasn't officially on the manifest"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the boy hope there would be a problem with the ship?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_2", "options": ["He wanted to wear a spacesuit", "He wanted to get in a lifeboat", "He didn't want to go to Venus", "He wanted to be rescued by a cargo ship"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why were men stripped of the right to vote?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_3", "options": ["They lost interest in politics", "Most of them died off", "They left to live on other planets", "The women got tired of them going to war"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the boy want to get in a lifeboat?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_4", "options": ["He was curious", "He was trying to get off the ship", "He wanted to hide from his sister", "His sister had been looking for lifeboat 68"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Where was the man in the lifeboat born?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_5", "options": ["the Moon", "Mars", "Venus", "Canada"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did people live under the water?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_6", "options": ["The land was no longer safe", "They could get married and have children there", "It was easier to mine there", "The women ruled the Earth"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the result of Brown listening to the boy's story?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_7", "options": ["He decided he could control him", "He scolded the boy", "He pitied the boy", "He wanted to marry the sister"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many sisters did Brown have?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_8", "options": ["0", "1", "a lot", "2"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What happened as a result of going to the geography lecture?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_9", "options": ["Evelyn realized the boy had met a Venusian man", "Evelyn was bored by the talk", "Evelyn decided to find a husband on Venus", "Evelyn learned about food grown on the Macro continent"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Brown react to Evelyn?", "question_unique_id": "51150_AP0HI29X_10", "options": ["He got angry", "He gave up trying to respond to her accusations", "He disliked her", "He agreed the revolution on earth had been needed"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/1/5/51150//51150-h//51150-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51274", "set_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Ambition", "year": 1966, "author": "Bade, William L.", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; Time travel -- Fiction; PS", "article": "AMBITION\nBy WILLIAM L. BADE\n\n\n Illustrated by L. WOROMAY\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction October 1951.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nTo the men of the future, the scientific\n\n goals of today were as incomprehensible\n\n as the ancient quest for the Holy Grail!\nThere was a thump. Maitland stirred, came half awake, and opened his\n eyes. The room was dark except where a broad shaft of moonlight from\n the open window fell on the foot of his bed. Outside, the residential\n section of the Reservation slept silently under the pale illumination\n of the full Moon. He guessed sleepily that it was about three o'clock.\n\n\n What had he heard? He had a definite impression that the sound had come\n from within the room. It had sounded like someone stumbling into a\n chair, or—\n\n\n Something moved in the darkness on the other side of the room. Maitland\n started to sit up and it was as though a thousand volts had shorted his\n brain....\n\n\n This time, he awoke more normally. He opened his eyes, looked through\n the window at a section of azure sky, listened to the singing of birds\n somewhere outside. A beautiful day. In the middle of the process of\n stretching his rested muscles, arms extended back, legs tensed, he\n froze, looking up—for the first time really seeing the ceiling. He\n turned his head, then rolled off the bed, wide awake.\nThis wasn't his room!\nThe lawn outside wasn't part of the Reservation! Where the labs and\n the shops should have been, there was deep prairie grass, then a green\n ocean pushed into waves by the breeze stretching to the horizon. This\n wasn't the California desert! Down the hill, where the liquid oxygen\n plant ought to have been, a river wound across the scene, almost hidden\n beneath its leafy roof of huge ancient trees.\n\n\n Shock contracted Maitland's diaphragm and spread through his body.\n His breathing quickened.\nNow\nhe remembered what had happened during\n the night, the sound in the darkness, the dimly seen figure, and\n then—what? Blackout....\n\n\n Where was he? Who had brought him here? For what purpose?\n\n\n He thought he knew the answer to the last of those questions. As\n a member of the original atomic reaction-motor team, he possessed\n information that other military powers would very much like to obtain.\n It was absolutely incredible that anyone had managed to abduct him from\n the heavily guarded confines of the Reservation, yet someone had done\n it. How?\nHe pivoted to inspect the room. Even before his eyes could take in\n the details, he had the impression that there was something wrong\n about it. To begin with, the style was unfamiliar. There were no\n straight lines or sharp corners anywhere. The walls were paneled in\n featureless blue plastic and the doors were smooth surfaces of metal,\n half ellipses, without knobs. The flowing lines of the chair and table,\n built apparently from an aluminum alloy, somehow gave the impression\n of arrested motion. Even after allowances were made for the outlandish\n design, something about the room still was not right.\n\n\n His eyes returned to the doors, and he moved over to study the nearer\n one. As he had noticed, there was no knob, but at the right of this\n one, at about waist level, a push-button projected out of the wall. He\n pressed it; the door slid aside and disappeared. Maitland glanced in at\n the disclosed bathroom, then went over to look at the other door.\n\n\n There was no button beside this one, nor any other visible means of\n causing it to open.\n\n\n Baffled, he turned again and looked at the large open window—and\n realized what it was that had made the room seem so queer.\n\n\n It did not look like a jail cell. There were no bars....\n\n\n Striding across the room, he lunged forward to peer out and violently\n banged his forehead. He staggered back, grimacing with pain, then\n reached forward cautious fingers and discovered a hard sheet of stuff\n so transparent that he had not even suspected its presence. Not glass!\n Glass was never this clear or strong. A plastic, no doubt, but one he\n hadn't heard of. Security sometimes had disadvantages.\n\n\n He looked out at the peaceful vista of river and prairie. The character\n of the sunlight seemed to indicate that it was afternoon. He became\n aware that he was hungry.\n\n\n Where the devil could this place be? And—muscles tightened about his\n empty stomach—what was in store for him here?\n\n\n He stood trembling, acutely conscious that he was afraid and helpless,\n until a flicker of motion at the bottom of the hill near the river drew\n his attention. Pressing his nose against the window, he strained his\n eyes to see what it was.\n\n\n A man and a woman were coming toward him up the hill. Evidently they\n had been swimming, for each had a towel; the man's was hung around his\n neck, and the woman was still drying her bobbed black hair.\n\n\n Maitland speculated on the possibility that this might be Sweden; he\n didn't know of any other country where public bathing at this time\n of year was customary. However, that prairie certainly didn't look\n Scandinavian....\n\n\n As they came closer, he saw that both of them had dark uniform suntans\n and showed striking muscular development, like persons who had trained\n for years with weights. They vanished below his field of view,\n presumably into the building.\n\n\n He sat down on the edge of the cot and glared helplessly at the floor.\nAbout half an hour later, the door he couldn't open slid aside into the\n wall. The man Maitland had seen outside, now clad in gray trunks and\n sandals, stood across the threshold looking in at him. Maitland stood\n up and stared back, conscious suddenly that in his rumpled pajamas he\n made an unimpressive figure.\n\n\n The fellow looked about forty-five. The first details Maitland noticed\n were the forehead, which was quite broad, and the calm, clear eyes.\n The dark hair, white at the temples, was combed back, still damp from\n swimming. Below, there was a wide mouth and a firm, rounded chin.\n\n\n This man was intelligent, Maitland decided, and extremely sure of\n himself.\n\n\n Somehow, the face didn't go with the rest of him. The man had the head\n of a thinker, the body of a trained athlete—an unusual combination.\n\n\n Impassively, the man said, \"My name is Swarts. You want to know where\n you are. I am not going to tell you.\" He had an accent, European, but\n otherwise unidentifiable. Possibly German. Maitland opened his mouth\n to protest, but Swarts went on, \"However, you're free to do all the\n guessing you want.\" Still there was no suggestion of a smile.\n\n\n \"Now, these are the rules. You'll be here for about a week. You'll have\n three meals a day, served in this room. You will not be allowed to\n leave it except when accompanied by myself. You will not be harmed in\n any way, provided you cooperate. And you can forget the silly idea that\n we want your childish secrets about rocket motors.\" Maitland's heart\n jumped. \"My reason for bringing you here is altogether different. I\n want to give you some psychological tests....\"\n\n\n \"Are you crazy?\" Maitland asked quietly. \"Do you realize that at this\n moment one of the greatest hunts in history must be going on? I'll\n admit I'm baffled as to where we are and how you got me here—but it\n seems to me that you could have found someone less conspicuous to give\n your tests to.\"\n\n\n Briefly, then, Swarts did smile. \"They won't find you,\" he said. \"Now,\n come with me.\"\nAfter that outlandish cell, Swarts' laboratory looked rather\n commonplace. There was something like a surgical cot in the center, and\n a bench along one wall supported several electronics cabinets. A couple\n of them had cathode ray tube screens, and they all presented a normal\n complement of meters, pilot lights, and switches. Cables from them ran\n across the ceiling and came to a focus above the high flat cot in the\n center of the room.\n\n\n \"Lie down,\" Swarts said. When Maitland hesitated, Swarts added,\n \"Understand one thing—the more you cooperate, the easier things will\n be for you. If necessary, I will use coercion. I can get all my results\n against your will, if I must. I would prefer not to. Please don't make\n me.\"\n\n\n \"What's the idea?\" Maitland asked. \"What is all this?\"\n\n\n Swarts hesitated, though not, Maitland astonishedly felt, to evade an\n answer, but to find the proper words. \"You can think of it as a lie\n detector. These instruments will record your reactions to the tests I\n give you. That is as much as you need to know. Now lie down.\"\n\n\n Maitland stood there for a moment, deliberately relaxing his tensed\n muscles. \"Make me.\"\n\n\n If Swarts was irritated, he didn't show it. \"That was the first test,\"\n he said. \"Let me put it another way. I would appreciate it a lot if\n you'd lie down on this cot. I would like to test my apparatus.\"\n\n\n Maitland shook his head stubbornly.\n\n\n \"I see,\" Swarts said. \"You want to find out what you're up against.\"\n\n\n He moved so fast that Maitland couldn't block the blow. It was to the\n solar plexus, just hard enough to double him up, fighting for breath.\n He felt an arm under his back, another behind his knees. Then he was on\n the cot. When he was able to breathe again, there were straps across\n his chest, hips, knees, ankles, and arms, and Swarts was tightening a\n clamp that held his head immovable.\nPresently, a number of tiny electrodes were adhering to his temples and\n to other portions of his body, and a minute microphone was clinging to\n the skin over his heart. These devices terminated in cables that hung\n from the ceiling. A sphygmomanometer sleeve was wrapped tightly around\n his left upper arm, its rubber tube trailing to a small black box\n clamped to the frame of the cot. Another cable left the box and joined\n the others.\n\n\n So—Maitland thought—Swarts could record changes in his skin\n potential, heartbeat, and blood pressure: the involuntary responses of\n the body to stimuli.\n\n\n The question was, what were the stimuli to be?\n\n\n \"Your name,\" said Swarts, \"is Robert Lee Maitland. You are thirty-four\n years old. You are an engineer, specialty heat transfer, particularly\n as applied to rocket motors.... No, Mr. Maitland, I'm not going to\n question you about your work; just forget about it. Your home town is\n Madison, Wisconsin....\"\n\n\n \"You seem to know everything about me,\" Maitland said defiantly,\n looking up into the hanging forest of cabling. \"Why this recital?\"\n\n\n \"I do not know everything about you—yet. And I'm testing the\n equipment, calibrating it to your reactions.\" He went on, \"Your\n favorite recreations are chess and reading what you term science\n fiction. Maitland,\nhow would you like to go to the Moon\n?\"\n\n\n Something eager leaped in Maitland's breast at the abrupt question, and\n he tried to turn his head. Then he forced himself to relax. \"What do\n you mean?\"\n\n\n Swarts was chuckling. \"I really hit a semantic push-button there,\n didn't I? Maitland, I brought you here because you're a man who wants\n to go to the Moon. I'm interested in finding out\nwhy\n.\"\nIn the evening a girl brought Maitland his meal. As the door slid\n aside, he automatically stood up, and they stared at each other for\n several seconds.\n\n\n She had the high cheekbones and almond eyes of an Oriental, skin that\n glowed like gold in the evening light, yet thick coiled braids of\n blonde hair that glittered like polished brass. Shorts and a sleeveless\n blouse of some thick, reddish, metallic-looking fabric clung to her\n body, and over that she was wearing a light, ankle-length cloak of what\n seemed to be white wool.\n\n\n She was looking at him with palpable curiosity and something like\n expectancy. Maitland sighed and said, \"Hello,\" then glanced down\n self-consciously at his wrinkled green pajamas.\nShe smiled, put the tray of food on the table, and swept out, her cloak\n billowing behind her. Maitland remained standing, staring at the closed\n door for a minute after she was gone.\n\n\n Later, when he had finished the steak and corn on the cob and shredded\n carrots, and a feeling of warm well-being was diffusing from his\n stomach to his extremities, he sat down on the bed to watch the sunset\n and to think.\n\n\n There were three questions for which he required answers before he\n could formulate any plan or policy.\n\n\n Where was he?\n\n\n Who was Swarts?\n\n\n What was the purpose of the \"tests\" he was being given?\n\n\n It was possible, of course, that this was all an elaborate scheme\n for getting military secrets, despite Swarts' protestations to the\n contrary. Maitland frowned. This place certainly didn't have the\n appearance of a military establishment, and so far there had been\n nothing to suggest the kind of interrogation to be expected from\n foreign intelligence officers.\n\n\n It might be better to tackle the first question first. He looked at\n the Sun, a red spheroid already half below the horizon, and tried to\n think of a region that had this kind of terrain. That prairie out there\n was unique. Almost anywhere in the world, land like that would be\n cultivated, not allowed to go to grass.\n\n\n This might be somewhere in Africa....\n\n\n He shook his head, puzzled. The Sun disappeared and its blood-hued\n glow began to fade from the sky. Maitland sat there, trying to get\n hold of the problem from an angle where it wouldn't just slip away.\n After a while the western sky became a screen of clear luminous blue,\n a backdrop for a pure white brilliant star. As always at that sight,\n Maitland felt his worry drain away, leaving an almost mystical sense of\n peace and an undefinable longing.\n\n\n Venus, the most beautiful of the planets.\n\n\n Maitland kept track of them all in their majestic paths through the\n constellations, but Venus was his favorite. Time and time again he\n had watched its steady climb higher and higher in the western sky,\n its transient rule there as evening star, its progression toward the\n horizon, and loved it equally in its\nalter ego\nof morning star. Venus\n was an old friend. An old friend....\n\n\n Something icy settled on the back of his neck, ran down his spine, and\n diffused into his body. He stared at the planet unbelievingly, fists\n clenched, forgetting to breathe.\n\n\n Last night Venus hadn't been there.\n\n\n Venus was a morning star just now....\nJust now!\nHe realized the truth in that moment.\nLater, when that jewel of a planet had set and the stars were out,\n he lay on the bed, still warm with excitement and relief. He didn't\n have to worry any more about military secrets, or who Swarts was.\n Those questions were irrelevant now. And now he could accept the\n psychological tests at their face value; most likely, they were what\n they purported to be.\n\n\n Only one question of importance remained:\n\n\n What year was this?\n\n\n He grimaced in the darkness, an involuntary muscular expression of\n jubilation and excitement. The\nfuture\n! Here was the opportunity for\n the greatest adventure imaginable to 20th Century man.\n\n\n Somewhere, out there under the stars, there must be grand glittering\n cities and busy spaceports, roaring gateways to the planets.\n Somewhere, out there in the night, there must be men who had walked\n beside the Martian canals and pierced the shining cloud mantle of\n Venus—somewhere, perhaps, men who had visited the distant luring stars\n and returned. Surely, a civilization that had developed time travel\n could reach the stars!\n\n\n And\nhe\nhad a chance to become a part of all that! He could spend\n his life among the planets, a citizen of deep space, a voyager of the\n challenging spaceways between the solar worlds.\n\n\n \"I'm adaptable,\" he told himself gleefully. \"I can learn fast. There'll\n be a job for me out there....\"\nIf—\nSuddenly sobered, he rolled over and put his feet on the floor, sat\n in the darkness thinking. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would have to find a\n way of breaking down Swarts' reticence. He would have to make the man\n realize that secrecy wasn't necessary in this case. And if Swarts still\n wouldn't talk, he would have to find a way of forcing the issue. The\n fellow had said that he didn't need cooperation to get his results,\n but—\n\n\n After a while Maitland smiled to himself and went back to bed.\nHe woke in the morning with someone gently shaking his shoulder. He\n rolled over and looked up at the girl who had brought him his meal the\n evening before. There was a tray on the table and he sniffed the smell\n of bacon. The girl smiled at him. She was dressed as before, except\n that she had discarded the white cloak.\n\n\n As he swung his legs to the floor, she started toward the door,\n carrying the tray with the dirty dishes from yesterday. He stopped her\n with the word, \"Miss!\"\n\n\n She turned, and he thought there was something eager in her face.\n\n\n \"Miss, do you speak my language?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" hesitantly. She lingered too long on the hiss of the last\n consonant.\n\n\n \"Miss,\" he asked, watching her face intently, \"what year is this?\"\n\n\n Startlingly, she laughed, a mellow peal of mirth that had nothing\n forced about it. She turned toward the door again and said over her\n shoulder, \"You will have to ask Swarts about that. I cannot tell you.\"\n\n\n \"Wait! You mean you don't know?\"\n\n\n She shook her head. \"I cannot tell you.\"\n\n\n \"All right; we'll let it go at that.\"\n\n\n She grinned at him again as the door slid shut.\nSwarts came half an hour later, and Maitland began his planned\n offensive.\n\n\n \"What year is this?\"\n\n\n Swarts' steely eyes locked with his. \"You know what the date is,\" he\n stated.\n\n\n \"No, I don't. Not since yesterday.\"\n\n\n \"Come on,\" Swarts said patiently, \"let's get going. We have a lot to\n get through this morning.\"\n\n\n \"I\nknow\nthis isn't 1950. It's probably not even the 20th Century.\n Venus was a morning star before you brought me here. Now it's an\n evening star.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind that. Come.\"\n\n\n Wordlessly, Maitland climbed to his feet, preceded Swarts to the\n laboratory, lay down and allowed him to fasten the straps and attach\n the instruments, making no resistance at all. When Swarts started\n saying a list of words—doubtlessly some sort of semantic reaction\n test—Maitland began the job of integrating \"csc\n 3\n x dx\" in his head.\n It was a calculation which required great concentration and frequent\n tracing back of steps. After several minutes, he noticed that Swarts\n had stopped calling words. He opened his eyes to find the other man\n standing over him, looking somewhat exasperated and a little baffled.\n\n\n \"What year is this?\" Maitland asked in a conversational tone.\n\n\n \"We'll try another series of tests.\"\n\n\n It took Swarts nearly twenty minutes to set up the new apparatus. He\n lowered a bulky affair with two cylindrical tubes like the twin stacks\n of a binocular microscope over Maitland's head, so that the lenses at\n the ends of the tubes were about half an inch from the engineer's\n eyes. He attached tiny clamps to Maitland's eyelashes.\n\n\n \"These will keep you from holding your eyes shut,\" he said. \"You can\n blink, but the springs are too strong for you to hold your eyelids down\n against the tension.\"\n\n\n He inserted button earphones into Maitland's ears—\n\n\n And then the show began.\n\n\n He was looking at a door in a partly darkened room, and there were\n footsteps outside, a peremptory knocking. The door flew open,\n and outlined against the light of the hall, he saw a man with a\n twelve-gauge shotgun. The man shouted, \"Now I've got you, you\n wife-stealer!\" He swung the shotgun around and pulled the trigger.\n There was a terrible blast of sound and the flash of smokeless\n powder—then blackness.\n\n\n With a deliberate effort, Maitland unclenched his fists and tried to\n slow his breathing. Some kind of emotional reaction test—what was the\n countermove? He closed his eyes, but shortly the muscles around them\n declared excruciatingly that they couldn't keep that up.\n\n\n Now he was looking at a girl. She....\n\n\n Maitland gritted his teeth and fought to use his brain; then he had it.\n\n\n He thought of a fat slob of a bully who had beaten him up one day\n after school. He remembered a talk he had heard by a politician who had\n all the intelligent social responsibility of a rogue gorilla, but no\n more. He brooded over the damnable stupidity and short-sightedness of\n Swarts in standing by his silly rules and not telling him about this\n new world.\n\n\n Within a minute, he was in an ungovernable rage. His muscles tightened\n against the restraining straps. He panted, sweat came out on his\n forehead, and he began to curse. Swarts! How he hated....\n\n\n The scene was suddenly a flock of sheep spread over a green hillside.\n There was blood hammering in Maitland's temples. His face felt hot and\n swollen and he writhed against the restraint of the straps.\n\n\n The scene disappeared, the lenses of the projector retreated from his\n eyes and Swarts was standing over him, white-lipped. Maitland swore at\n him for a few seconds, then relaxed and smiled weakly. His head was\n starting to ache from the effort of blinking.\n\n\n \"What year is this?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"All right,\" Swarts said. \"A.D. 2634.\"\n\n\n Maitland's smile became a grin.\n\"I really haven't the time to waste talking irrelevancies,\" Swarts said\n a while later. \"Honestly. Maitland, I'm working against a time limit.\n If you'll cooperate, I'll tell Ching to answer your questions.\"'\n\n\n \"Ching?\"\n\n\n \"Ingrid Ching is the girl who has been bringing you your meals.\"\n\n\n Maitland considered a moment, then nodded. Swarts lowered the projector\n to his eyes again, and this time the engineer did not resist.\n\n\n That evening, he could hardly wait for her to come. Too excited to sit\n and watch the sunset, he paced interminably about the room, sometimes\n whistling nervously, snapping his fingers, sitting down and jittering\n one leg. After a while he noticed that he was whistling the same theme\n over and over: a minute's thought identified it as that exuberant\n mounting phrase which recurs in the finale of Beethoven's Ninth\n Symphony.\n\n\n He forgot about it and went on whistling. He was picturing himself\n aboard a ship dropping in toward Mars, making planetfall at Syrtis\n Major; he was seeing visions of Venus and the awesome beauty of Saturn.\n In his mind, he circled the Moon, and viewed the Earth as a huge bright\n globe against the constellations....\n\n\n Finally the door slid aside and she appeared, carrying the usual tray\n of food. She smiled at him, making dimples in her golden skin and\n revealing a perfect set of teeth, and put the tray on the table.\n\n\n \"I think you are wonderful,\" she laughed. \"You get everything you\n want, even from Swarts, and I have not been able to get even a little\n of what I want from him. I want to travel in time, go back to your 20th\n Century. And I wanted to talk with you, and he would not let me.\" She\n laughed again, hands on her rounded hips. \"I have never seen him so\n irritated as he was this noon.\"\n\n\n Maitland urged her into the chair and sat down on the edge of the bed.\n Eagerly he asked, \"Why the devil do you want to go to the 20th Century?\n Believe me, I've been there, and what I've seen of this world looks a\n lot better.\"\n\n\n She shrugged. \"Swarts says that I want to go back to the Dark Age of\n Technology because I have not adapted well to modern culture. Myself,\n I think I have just a romantic nature. Far times and places look more\n exciting....\"\n\n\n \"How do you mean—\" Maitland wrinkled his brow—\"adapt to modern\n culture? Don't tell me\nyou're\nfrom another time!\"\n\n\n \"Oh, no! But my home is Aresund, a little fishing village at the head\n of a fiord in what you would call Norway. So far north, we are much\n behind the times. We live in the old way, from the sea, speak the old\n tongue.\"\nHe looked at her golden features, such a felicitous blend of\n Oriental and European characteristics, and hesitantly asked, \"Maybe\n I shouldn't.... This is a little personal, but ... you don't look\n altogether like the Norwegians of my time.\"\n\n\n His fear that she would be offended proved to be completely\n unjustified. She merely laughed and said, \"There has been much\n history since 1950. Five hundred years ago, Europe was overrun by\n Pan-Orientals. Today you could not find anywhere a 'pure' European\n or Asiatic.\" She giggled. \"Swarts' ancestors from your time must be\n cursing in their graves. His family is Afrikander all the way back, but\n one of his great-grandfathers was pure-blooded Bantu. His full name is\n Lassisi Swarts.\"\n\n\n Maitland wrinkled his brow. \"Afrikander?\"\n\n\n \"The South Africans.\" Something strange came into her eyes. It might\n have been awe, or even hatred; he could not tell. \"The Pan-Orientals\n eventually conquered all the world, except for North America—the\n last remnant of the American World Empire—and southern Africa. The\n Afrikanders had been partly isolated for several centuries then, and\n they had developed technology while the rest of the world lost it. They\n had a tradition of white supremacy, and in addition they were terrified\n of being encircled.\" She sighed. \"They ruled the next world empire and\n it was founded on the slaughter of one and a half billion human beings.\n That went into the history books as the War of Annihilation.\"\n\n\n \"So many? How?\"\n\n\n \"They were clever with machines, the Afrikanders. They made armies\n of them. Armies of invincible killing-machines, produced in robot\n factories from robot-mined ores.... Very clever.\" She gave a little\n shudder.\n\n\n \"And yet they founded modern civilization,\" she added. \"The grandsons\n of the technicians who built the Machine Army set up our robot\n production system, and today no human being has to dirty his hands\n raising food or manufacturing things. It could never have been done,\n either, before the population was—reduced to three hundred million.\"\n\n\n \"Then the Afrikanders are still on top? Still the masters?\"\nShe shook her head. \"There are no more Afrikanders.\"\n\n\n \"Rebellion?\"\n\n\n \"No. Intermarriage. Racial blending. There was a psychology of guilt\n behind it. So huge a crime eventually required a proportionate\n expiation. Afrikaans is still the world language, but there is only one\n race now. No more masters or slaves.\"\n\n\n They were both silent for a moment, and then she sighed. \"Let us not\n talk about them any more.\"\n\n\n \"Robot factories and farms,\" Maitland mused. \"What else? What means of\n transportation? Do you have interstellar flight yet?\"\n\n\n \"Inter-what?\"\n\n\n \"Have men visited the stars?\"\n\n\n She shook her head, bewildered.\n\n\n \"I always thought that would be a tough problem to crack,\" he agreed.\n \"But tell me about what men are doing in the Solar System. How is life\n on Mars and Venus, and how long does it take to get to those places?\"\n\n\n He waited, expectantly silent, but she only looked puzzled. \"I don't\n understand. Mars? What are Mars?\"\n\n\n After several seconds, Maitland swallowed. Something seemed to be the\n matter with his throat, making it difficult for him to speak. \"Surely\n you have space travel?\"\n\n\n She frowned and shook her head. \"What does that mean—space travel?\"\n\n\n He was gripping the edge of the bed now, glaring at her. \"A\n civilization that could discover time travel and build robot factories\n wouldn't find it hard to send a ship to Mars!\"\n\n\n \"A\nship\n? Oh, you mean something like a\nvliegvlotter\n. Why, no, I\n don't suppose it would be hard. But why would anyone want to do a\n thing like that?\"\n\n\n He was on his feet towering over her, fists clenched. She raised her\n arms as if to shield her face if he should hit her. \"Let's get this\n perfectly clear,\" he said, more harshly than he realized. \"So far as\n you know, no one has ever visited the planets, and no one wants to. Is\n that right?\"\n\n\n She nodded apprehensively. \"I have never heard of it being done.\"\n\n\n He sank down on the bed and put his face in his hands. After a while he\n looked up and said bitterly, \"You're looking at a man who would give\n his life to get to Mars. I thought I would in my time. I was positive I\n would when I knew I was in your time. And now I know I never will.\"\nThe cot creaked beside him and he felt a soft arm about his shoulders\n and fingers delicately stroking his brow. Presently he opened his eyes\n and looked at her. \"I just don't understand,\" he said. \"It seemed\n obvious to me that whenever men were able to reach the planets, they'd\n do it.\"\n\n\n Her pitying eyes were on his face. He hitched himself around so that he\n was facing her. \"I've got to understand. I've got to know\nwhy\n. What\n happened? Why don't men want the planets any more?\"\n\n\n \"Honestly,\" she said, \"I did not know they ever had.\" She hesitated.\n \"Maybe you are asking the wrong question.\"\n\n\n He furrowed his brow, bewildered now by her.\n\n\n \"I mean,\" she explained, \"maybe you should ask why people in the 20th\n Century\ndid\nwant to go to worlds men are not suited to inhabit.\"\n\n\n Maitland felt his face become hot. \"Men can go anywhere, if they want\n to bad enough.\"\n\n\n \"But\nwhy\n?\"\n\n\n Despite his sudden irrational anger toward her, Maitland tried to stick\n to logic. \"Living space, for one thing. The only permanent solution to\n the population problem....\"\n\n\n \"We have no population problem. A hundred years ago, we realized that\n the key to social stability is a limited population. Our economic\n system was built to take care of three hundred million people, and we\n have held the number at that.\"\n\n\n \"Birth control,\" Maitland scoffed. \"How do you make it work—secret\n police?\"\n\n\n \"No. Education. Each of us has the right to two children, and we\n cherish that right so much that we make every effort to see that those\n two are the best children we could possibly produce....\"\n\n\n She broke off, looking a little self-conscious. \"You understand, what\n I have been saying applies to\nmost\nof the world. In some places like\n Aresund, things are different. Backward. I still do not feel that I\n belong here, although the people of the town have accepted me as one of\n them.\"\n\n\n \"Even,\" he said, \"granting that you have solved the population problem,\n there's still the adventure of the thing. Surely, somewhere, there must\n be men who still feel that.... Ingrid, doesn't it fire something in\n your blood, the idea of going to Mars—just to go there and see what's\n there and walk under a new sky and a smaller Sun? Aren't you interested\n in finding out what the canals are? Or what's under the clouds of\n Venus? Wouldn't you like to see the rings of Saturn from, a distance\n of only two hundred thousand miles?\" His hands were trembling as he\n stopped.\n\n\n She shrugged her shapely shoulders. \"Go into the past—yes! But go out\n there? I still cannot see why.\"\n\n\n \"Has the spirit of adventure\nevaporated\nfrom the human race, or\nwhat\n?\"\n\n\n She smiled. \"In a room downstairs there is the head of a lion. Swarts\n killed the beast when he was a young man. He used a spear. And time\n traveling is the greatest adventure there is. At least, that is the\n way I feel. Listen, Bob.\" She laid a hand on his arm. \"You grew up in\n the Age of Technology. Everybody was terribly excited about what could\n be done with machines—machines to blow up a city all at once, or fly\n around the world, or take a man to Mars. We have had our fill of—what\n is the word?—gadgets. Our machines serve us, and so long as they\n function right, we are satisfied to forget about them.\n\n\n \"Because this is the Age of\nMan\n. We are terribly interested in what\n can be done with people. Our scientists, like Swarts, are studying\n human rather than nuclear reactions. We are much more fascinated by the\n life and death of cultures than by the expansion or contraction of the\n Universe. With us, it is the people that are important, not gadgets.\"\n\n\n Maitland stared at her, his face blank. His mind had just manufactured\n a discouraging analogy. His present position was like that of an\n earnest 12th Century crusader, deposited by some freak of nature into\n the year 1950, trying to find a way of reanimating the anti-Mohammedan\n movement. What chance would he have? The unfortunate knight would argue\n in vain that the atomic bomb offered a means of finally destroying the\n infidel....\n\n\n Maitland looked up at the girl, who was regarding him silently with\n troubled eyes. \"I think I'd like to be alone for a while,\" he said.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Maitland kidnapped?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_1", "options": ["Because he lived out on a reservation", "To get information about the atomic-reaction motor", "Because he wanted to go to the moon", "Because he was strong and ambitious"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Where was Maitland taken?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_2", "options": ["To a different era", "To another planet", "To an enemy nation", "To the moon"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Maitland's new room not possess?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_3", "options": ["curves", "a glass window", "a push-button door", "metal furniture"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Swarts interested in studying in his laboratory?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_4", "options": ["time travel", "human nature", "space travel", "geography"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Maitland get excited about being held hostage?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_5", "options": ["He had defeated Swarts' tests", "He thought he could travel to Mars", "He enjoyed living in the small room", "He thought Ingrid was pretty"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What made Maitland realize he was in the future?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_6", "options": ["A planet", "The terrain", "The people", "The sun"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why could Ingrid not tell Maitland what year it was?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_7", "options": ["She was not allowed to", "She didn't know", "She didn't speak fluent English", "She was unwilling to"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Maitland beat the second test on the second day?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_8", "options": ["He refused to be strapped down", "He did math in his head", "He thought about opposite kinds of images", "He closed his eyes"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did they not travel to the other planets?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_9", "options": ["They had gone in the past", "They had tried to go and failed", "They had no desire to go", "They could not build rockets"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Maitland want to be alone after talking to Ingrid?", "question_unique_id": "51274_8Q2YNHG5_10", "options": ["He was disappointed ", "She had rejected him", "He was embarrassed by his feelings for her", "He was tired"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/7/51274//51274-h//51274-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51413", "set_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Ignoble Savages", "year": 1972, "author": "Smith, Evelyn E.", "topic": "Extrasolar planets -- Fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS", "article": "The Ignoble Savages\nBy EVELYN E. SMITH\n\n\n Illustrated by DILLON\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction March 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nSnaddra had but one choice in its fight\n \nto afford to live belowground—underhandedly\n \npretend theirs was an aboveboard society!\n\"Go Away from me, Skkiru,\" Larhgan said, pushing his hand off her arm.\n \"A beggar does not associate with the high priestess of Snaddra.\"\n\n\n \"But the Earthmen aren't due for another fifteen minutes,\" Skkiru\n protested.\n\n\n \"Of what importance are fifteen minutes compared to eternity!\" she\n exclaimed. Her lovely eyes fuzzed softly with emotion. \"You don't seem\n to realize, Skkiru, that this isn't just a matter of minutes or hours.\n It's forever.\"\n\"Forever!\" He looked at her incredulously. \"You mean we're going to\n keep this up as a permanent thing? You're joking!\"\n\n\n Bbulas groaned, but Skkiru didn't care about that. The sad, sweet way\n Larhgan shook her beautiful head disturbed him much more, and when\n she said, \"No, Skkiru, I am not joking,\" a tiny pang of doubt and\n apprehension began to quiver in his second smallest left toe.\n\n\n \"This is, in effect, good-by,\" she continued. \"We shall see each other\n again, of course, but only from a distance. On feast days, perhaps you\n may be permitted to kiss the hem of my robe ... but that will be all.\"\n\n\n Skkiru turned to the third person present in the council chamber.\n \"Bbulas, this is your fault! It was all your idea!\"\n\n\n There was regret on the Dilettante's thin face—an obviously insincere\n regret, the younger man knew, since he was well aware how Bbulas had\n always felt about the girl.\n\n\n \"I am sorry, Skkiru,\" Bbulas intoned. \"I had fancied you understood.\n This is not a game we are playing, but a new way of life we are\n adopting. A necessary way of life, if we of Snaddra are to keep on\n living at all.\"\n\n\n \"It's not that I don't love you, Skkiru,\" Larhgan put in gently, \"but\n the welfare of our planet comes first.\"\nShe had been seeing too many of the Terrestrial fictapes from the\n library, Skkiru thought resentfully. There was too damn much Terran\n influence on this planet. And this new project was the last straw.\n\n\n No longer able to control his rage and grief, he turned a triple\n somersault in the air with rage. \"Then why was I made a beggar and she\n the high priestess? You arranged that purposely, Bbulas. You—\"\n\n\n \"Now, Skkiru,\" Bbulas said wearily, for they had been through all this\n before, \"you know that all the ranks and positions were distributed\n by impartial lot, except for mine, and, of course, such jobs as could\n carry over from the civilized into the primitive.\"\n\n\n Bbulas breathed on the spectacles he was wearing, as contact lenses\n were not considered backward enough for the kind of planet Snaddra\n was now supposed to be, and attempted to wipe them dry on his robe.\n However, the thick, jewel-studded embroidery got in his way and so he\n was forced to lift the robe and wipe all three of the lenses on the\n smooth, soft, spun metal of his top underskirt.\n\n\n \"After all,\" he went on speaking as he wiped, \"I have to be high\n priest, since I organized this culture and am the only one here\n qualified to administer it. And, as the president himself concurred in\n these arrangements, I hardly think you—a mere private citizen—have\n the right to question them.\"\n\n\n \"Just because you went to school in another solar system,\" Skkiru said,\n whirling with anger, \"you think you're so smart!\"\n\n\n \"I won't deny that I do have educational and cultural advantages\n which were, unfortunately, not available to the general populace of\n this planet. However, even under the old system, I was always glad to\n utilize my superior attainments as Official Dilettante for the good of\n all and now—\"\n\n\n \"Sure, glad to have a chance to rig this whole setup so you could break\n up things between Larhgan and me. You've had your eye on her for some\n time.\"\n\n\n Skkiru coiled his antennae at Bbulas, hoping the insult would provoke\n him into an unbecoming whirl, but the Dilettante remained calm. One of\n the chief outward signs of Terran-type training was self-control and\n Bbulas had been thoroughly terranized.\nI hate Terrestrials\n, Skkiru said to himself.\nI hate Terra.\nThe\n quiver of anxiety had risen up his leg and was coiling and uncoiling\n in his stomach. He hoped it wouldn't reach his antennae—if he were\n to break down and psonk in front of Larhgan, it would be the final\n humiliation.\n\n\n \"Skkiru!\" the girl exclaimed, rotating gently, for she, like her\n fiance—her erstwhile fiance, that was, for the new regime had caused\n all such ties to be severed—and every other literate person on the\n planet, had received her education at the local university. Although\n sound, the school was admittedly provincial in outlook and very poor\n in the emotional department. \"One would almost think that the lots had\n some sort of divine intelligence behind them, because you certainly are\n behaving in a beggarly manner!\"\n\n\n \"And I have already explained to you, Skkiru,\" Bbulas said, with a\n patience much more infuriating than the girl's anger, \"that I had no\n idea of who was to become my high priestess. The lots chose Larhgan. It\n is, as the Earthmen say, kismet.\"\nHe adjusted the fall of his glittering robe before the great polished\n four-dimensional reflector that formed one wall of the chamber.\nKismet\n, Skkiru muttered to himself,\nand a little sleight of hand.\nBut he didn't dare offer this conclusion aloud; the libel laws of\n Snaddra were very severe. So he had to fall back on a weak, \"And I\n suppose it is kismet that makes us all have to go live out on the\n ground during the day, like—like savages.\"\n\n\n \"It is necessary,\" Bbulas replied without turning.\n\n\n \"Pooh,\" Skkiru said. \"Pooh,\npooh\n, POOH!\"\n\n\n Larhgan's dainty earflaps closed. \"Skkiru! Such language!\"\n\n\n \"As you said,\" Bbulas murmured, contemptuously coiling one antenna at\n Skkiru, \"the lots chose well and if you touch me, Skkiru, we shall have\n another drawing for beggar and you will be made a metal-worker.\"\n\n\n \"But I can't work metal!\"\n\n\n \"Then that will make it much worse for you than for the other\n outcasts,\" Bbulas said smugly, \"because you will be a pariah without a\n trade.\"\n\n\n \"Speaking of pariahs, that reminds me, Skkiru, before I forget, I'd\n better give you back your grimpatch—\" Larhgan handed the glittering\n bauble to him—\"and you give me mine. Since we can't be betrothed any\n longer, you might want to give yours to some nice beggar girl.\"\n\n\n \"I don't want to give my grimpatch to some nice beggar girl!\" Skkiru\n yelled, twirling madly in the air.\n\n\n \"As for me,\" she sighed, standing soulfully on her head, \"I do not\n think I shall ever marry. I shall make the religious life my career.\n Are there going to be any saints in your mythos, Bbulas?\"\n\n\n \"Even if there will be,\" Bbulas said, \"you certainly won't qualify if\n you keep putting yourself into a position which not only represents a\n trait wholly out of keeping with the new culture, but is most unseemly\n with the high priestess's robes.\"\n\n\n Larhgan ignored his unfeeling observations. \"I shall set myself apart\n from mundane affairs,\" she vowed, \"and I shall pretend to be happy,\n even though my heart will be breaking.\"\n\n\n It was only at that moment that Skkiru realized just how outrageous the\n whole thing really was. There must be another solution to the planet's\n problem. \"Listen—\" he began, but just then excited noises filtered\n down from overhead. It was too late.\n\n\n \"Earth ship in view!\" a squeaky voice called through the intercom.\n \"Everybody topside and don't forget your shoes.\"\n\n\n Except the beggar. Beggars went barefoot. Beggars suffered. Bbulas had\n made him beggar purposely, and the lots were a lot of slibwash.\n\n\n \"Hurry up, Skkiru.\"\nBbulas slid the ornate headdress over his antennae, which, already\n gilded and jeweled, at once seemed to become a part of it. He looked\n pretty damn silly, Skkiru thought, at the same time conscious of his\n own appearance—which was, although picturesque enough to delight\n romantic Terrestrial hearts, sufficiently wretched to charm the most\n hardened sadist.\n\n\n \"Hurry up, Skkiru,\" Bbulas said. \"They mustn't suspect the existence of\n the city underground or we're finished before we've started.\"\n\n\n \"For my part, I wish we'd never started,\" Skkiru grumbled. \"What was\n wrong with our old culture, anyway?\"\n\n\n That was intended as a rhetorical question, but Bbulas answered it\n anyway. He always answered questions; it had never seemed to penetrate\n his mind that school-days were long since over.\n\n\n \"I've told you a thousand times that our old culture was too much like\n the Terrans' own to be of interest to them,\" he said, with affected\n weariness. \"After all, most civilized societies are basically similar;\n it is only primitive societies that differ sharply, one from the\n other—and we have to be different to attract Earthmen. They're pretty\n choosy. You've got to give them what they want, and that's what they\n want. Now take up your post on the edge of the field, try to look\n hungry, and remember this isn't for you or for me, but for Snaddra.\"\n\n\n \"For Snaddra,\" Larhgan said, placing her hand over her anterior heart\n in a gesture which, though devout on Earth—or so the fictapes seemed\n to indicate—was obscene on Snaddra, owing to the fact that certain\n essential organs were located in different areas in the Snaddrath than\n in the corresponding Terrestrial life-form. Already the Terrestrial\n influence was corrupting her, Skkiru thought mournfully. She had been\n such a nice girl, too.\n\n\n \"We may never meet on equal terms again, Skkiru,\" she told him, with a\n long, soulful glance that made his hearts sink down to his quivering\n toes, \"but I promise you there will never be anyone else for me—and\n I hope that knowledge will inspire you to complete cooperation with\n Bbulas.\"\n\n\n \"If that doesn't,\" Bbulas said, \"I have other methods of inspiration.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" Skkiru answered sulkily. \"I'll go to the edge of the\n field, and I'll speak broken Inter-galactic, and I'll forsake my normal\n habits and customs, and I'll even\nbeg\n. But I don't have to like doing\n it, and I don't intend to like doing it.\"\n\n\n All three of Larhgan's eyes fuzzed with emotion. \"I'm proud of you,\n Skkiru,\" she said brokenly.\n\n\n Bbulas sniffed. The three of them floated up to ground level in a\n triple silence.\n\"Alms, for the love of Ipsnadd,\" Skkiru chanted, as the two Terrans\n descended from the ship and plowed their way through the mud to meet a\n procession of young Snaddrath dressed in elaborate ceremonial costumes,\n and singing a popular ballad—to which less ribald, as well as less\n inspiring, words than the originals had been fitted by Bbulas, just\n in case, by some extremely remote chance, the Terrans had acquired a\n smattering of Snadd somewhere. Since neither party was accustomed to\n navigating mud, their progress was almost imperceptible.\n\n\n \"Alms, for the love of Ipsnadd,\" chanted Skkiru the beggar.\n His teeth chattered as he spoke, for the rags he wore had been\n custom-weatherbeaten for him by the planet's best tailor—now a pariah,\n of course, because Snadd tailors were, naturally, metal-workers—and\n the wind and the rain were joyously making their way through the\n demolished wires. Never before had Skkiru been on the surface of the\n planet, except to pass over, and he had actually touched it only when\n taking off and landing. The Snaddrath had no means of land transport,\n having previously found it unnecessary—but now both air-cars and\n self-levitation were on the prohibited list as being insufficiently\n primitive.\n\n\n The outside was no place for a civilized human being, particularly\n in the wet season or—more properly speaking on Snaddra—the wetter\n season. Skkiru's feet were soaked with mud; not that the light sandals\n worn by the members of the procession appeared to be doing them much\n good, either. It gave him a kind of melancholy pleasure to see that the\n privileged ones were likewise trying to repress shivers. Though their\n costumes were rich, they were also scanty, particularly in the case\n of the females, for Earthmen had been reported by tape and tale to be\n humanoid.\n\n\n As the mud clutched his toes, Skkiru remembered an idea he had once\n gotten from an old sporting fictape of Terrestrial origin and had\n always planned to experiment with, but had never gotten around to—the\n weather had always been so weathery, there were so many other more\n comfortable sports, Larhgan had wanted him to spend more of his leisure\n hours with her, and so on. However, he still had the equipment, which\n he'd salvaged from a wrecked air-car, in his apartment—and it was the\n matter of a moment to run down, while Bbulas was looking the other way,\n and get it.\n\n\n Bbulas couldn't really object, Skkiru stilled the nagging quiver in\n his toe, because what could be more primitive than any form of land\n transport? And even though it took time to get the things, they worked\n so well that, in spite of the procession's head start, he was at the\n Earth ship long before the official greeters had reached it.\nThe newcomers were indeed humanoid, he saw. Only the peculiarly\n pasty color of their skins and their embarrassing lack of antennae\n distinguished them visibly from the Snaddrath. They were dressed much\n as the Snaddrath had been before they had adopted primitive garb.\n\n\n In fact, the Terrestrials were quite decent-looking life-forms,\n entirely different from the foppish monsters Skkiru had somehow\n expected to represent the cultural ruling race. Of course, he had\n frequently seen pictures of them, but everyone knew how easily those\n could be retouched. Why, it was the Terrestrials themselves, he had\n always understood, who had invented the art of retouching—thus proving\n beyond a doubt that they had something to hide.\n\n\n \"Look, Raoul,\" the older of the two Earthmen said in Terran—which\n the Snaddrath were not, according to the master plan, supposed to\n understand, but which most of them did, for it was the fashionable\n third language on most of the outer planets. \"A beggar. Haven't seen\n one since some other chaps and I were doing a spot of field work on\n that little planet in the Arcturus system—what was its name? Glotch,\n that's it. Very short study, it turned out to be. Couldn't get more\n than a pamphlet out of it, as we were unable to stay long enough to\n amass enough material for a really definitive work. The natives tried\n to eat us, so we had to leave in somewhat of a hurry.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, they were cannibals?\" the other Earthman asked, so respectfully\n that it was easy to deduce he was the subordinate of the two. \"How\n horrible!\"\n\n\n \"No, not at all,\" the other assured him. \"They weren't human—another\n species entirely—so you could hardly call it cannibalism. In fact, it\n was quite all right from the ethical standpoint, but abstract moral\n considerations seemed less important to us than self-preservation\n just then. Decided that, in this case, it would be best to let the\n missionaries get first crack at them. Soften them up, you know.\"\n\n\n \"And the missionaries—did they soften them up, Cyril?\"\n\n\n \"They softened up the missionaries, I believe.\" Cyril laughed. \"Ah,\n well, it's all in the day's work.\"\n\n\n \"I hope these creatures are not man-eaters,\" Raoul commented, with\n a polite smile at Cyril and an apprehensive glance at the oncoming\n procession—\ncreatures indeed\n! Skkiru thought, with a mental sniff.\n \"We have come such a long and expensive way to study them that it would\n be indeed a pity if we also were forced to depart in haste. Especially\n since this is my first field trip and I would like to make good at it.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, you will, my boy, you will.\" Cyril clapped the younger man on the\n shoulder. \"I have every confidence in your ability.\"\n\n\n Either he was stupid, Skkiru thought, or he was lying, in spite of\n Bbulas' asseverations that untruth was unknown to Terrestrials—which\n had always seemed highly improbable, anyway. How could any intelligent\n life-form possibly stick to the truth all the time? It wasn't human; it\n wasn't even humanoid; it wasn't even polite.\n\n\n \"The natives certainly appear to be human enough,\" Raoul added, with\n an appreciative glance at the females, who had been selected for the\n processional honor with a view to reported Terrestrial tastes. \"Some\n slight differences, of course—but, if two eyes are beautiful, three\n eyes can be fifty per cent lovelier, and chartreuse has always been my\n favorite color.\"\nIf they stand out here in the cold much longer, they are going to turn\n bright yellow.\nHis own skin, Skkiru knew, had faded from its normal\n healthy emerald to a sickly celadon.\nCyril frowned and his companion's smile vanished, as if the contortion\n of his superior's face had activated a circuit somewhere.\nMaybe the\n little one's a robot!\nHowever, it couldn't be—a robot would be better\n constructed and less interested in females than Raoul.\n\n\n \"Remember,\" Cyril said sternly, \"we must not establish undue rapport\n with the native females. It tends to detract from true objectivity.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Cyril,\" Raoul said meekly.\n\n\n Cyril assumed a more cheerful aspect \"I should like to give this chap\n something for old times' sake. What do you suppose is the medium of\n exchange here?\"\nMoney\n, Skkiru said to himself, but he didn't dare contribute this\n piece of information, helpful though it would be.\n\n\n \"How should I know?\" Raoul shrugged.\n\n\n \"Empathize. Get in there, old chap, and start batting.\"\n\n\n \"Why not give him a bar of chocolate, then?\" Raoul suggested grumpily.\n \"The language of the stomach, like the language of love, is said to be\n a universal one.\"\n\n\n \"Splendid idea! I always knew you had it in you, Raoul!\"\n\n\n Skkiru accepted the candy with suitable—and entirely genuine—murmurs\n of gratitude. Chocolate was found only in the most expensive of the\n planet's delicacy shops—and now neither delicacy shops nor chocolate\n were to be found, so, if Bbulas thought he was going to save the gift\n to contribute it later to the Treasury, the \"high priest\" was off his\n rocker.\n\n\n To make sure there would be no subsequent dispute about possession,\n Skkiru ate the candy then and there. Chocolate increased the body's\n resistance to weather, and never before had he had to endure so much\n weather all at once.\n\n\n On Earth, he had heard, where people lived exposed to weather, they\n often sickened of it and passed on—which helped to solve the problem\n of birth control on so vulgarly fecund a planet. Snaddra, alas, needed\n no such measures, for its population—like its natural resources—was\n dwindling rapidly. Still, Skkiru thought, as he moodily munched on the\n chocolate, it would have been better to flicker out on their own than\n to descend to a subterfuge like this for nothing more than survival.\nBeing a beggar, Skkiru discovered, did give him certain small,\n momentary advantages over those who had been alloted higher ranks.\n For one thing, it was quite in character for him to tread curiously\n upon the strangers' heels all the way to the temple—a ramshackle\n affair, but then it had been run up in only three days—where the\n official reception was to be held. The principal difficulty was that,\n because of his equipment, he had a little trouble keeping himself from\n overshooting the strangers. And though Bbulas might frown menacingly at\n him—and not only for his forwardness—that was in character on both\n sides, too.\n\n\n Nonetheless, Skkiru could not reconcile himself to his beggarhood, no\n matter how much he tried to comfort himself by thinking at least he\n wasn't a pariah like the unfortunate metal-workers who had to stand\n segregated from the rest by a chain of their own devising—a poetic\n thought, that was, but well in keeping with his beggarhood. Beggars\n were often poets, he believed, and poets almost always beggars. Since\n metal-working was the chief industry of Snaddra, this had provided the\n planet automatically with a large lowest caste. Bbulas had taken the\n easy way out.\n\n\n Skkiru swallowed the last of the chocolate and regarded the \"high\n priest\" with a simple-minded mendicant's grin. However, there were\n volcanic passions within him that surged up from his toes when, as the\n wind and rain whipped through his scanty coverings, he remembered the\n snug underskirts Bbulas was wearing beneath his warm gown. They were\n metal, but they were solid. All the garments visible or potentially\n visible were of woven metal, because, although there was cloth on the\n planet, it was not politic for the Earthmen to discover how heavily the\n Snaddrath depended upon imports.\n\n\n As the Earthmen reached the temple, Larhgan now appeared to join Bbulas\n at the head of the long flight of stairs that led to it. Although\n Skkiru had seen her in her priestly apparel before, it had not made\n the emotional impression upon him then that it did now, when, standing\n there, clad in beauty, dignity and warm clothes, she bade the newcomers\n welcome in several thousand words not too well chosen for her by\n Bbulas—who fancied himself a speech-writer as well as a speech-maker,\n for there was no end to the man's conceit.\n\n\n The difference between her magnificent garments and his own miserable\n rags had their full impact upon Skkiru at this moment. He saw the gulf\n that had been dug between them and, for the first time in his short\n life, he felt the tormenting pangs of caste distinction. She looked so\n lovely and so remote.\n\n\n \"... and so you are most welcome to Snaddra, men of Earth,\" she was\n saying in her melodious voice. \"Our resources may be small but our\n hearts are large, and what little we have, we offer with humility and\n with love. We hope that you will enjoy as long and as happy a stay here\n as you did on Nemeth....\"\n\n\n Cyril looked at Raoul, who, however, seemed too absorbed in\n contemplating Larhgan's apparently universal charms to pay much\n attention to the expression on his companion's face.\n\n\n \"... and that you will carry our affection back to all the peoples of\n the Galaxy.\"\nShe had finished. And now Cyril cleared his throat. \"Dear friends, we\n were honored by your gracious invitation to visit this fair planet, and\n we are honored now by the cordial reception you have given to us.\"\n\n\n The crowd yoomped politely. After a slight start, Cyril went on,\n apparently deciding that applause was all that had been intended.\n\n\n \"We feel quite sure that we are going to derive both pleasure and\n profit from our stay here, and we promise to make our intensive\n analysis of your culture as painless as possible. We wish only to study\n your society, not to tamper with it in any way.\"\nHa, ha\n, Skkiru said to himself.\nHa, ha, ha!\n\"But why is it,\" Raoul whispered in Terran as he glanced around out of\n the corners of his eyes, \"that only the beggar wears mudshoes?\"\n\n\n \"Shhh,\" Cyril hissed back. \"We'll find out later, when we've\n established rapport. Don't be so impatient!\"\n\n\n Bbulas gave a sickly smile. Skkiru could almost find it in his hearts\n to feel sorry for the man.\n\n\n \"We have prepared our best hut for you, noble sirs,\" Bbulas said with\n great self-control, \"and, by happy chance, this very evening a small\n but unusually interesting ceremony will be held outside the temple. We\n hope you will be able to attend. It is to be a rain dance.\"\n\n\n \"Rain dance!\" Raoul pulled his macintosh together more tightly at the\n throat. \"But why do you want rain? My faith, not only does it rain now,\n but the planet seems to be a veritable sea of mud. Not, of course,\" he\n added hurriedly as Cyril's reproachful eye caught his, \"that it is not\n attractive mud. Finest mud I have ever seen. Such texture, such color,\n such aroma!\"\n\n\n Cyril nodded three times and gave an appreciative sniff.\n\n\n \"But,\" Raoul went on, \"one can have too much of even such a good thing\n as mud....\"\n\n\n The smile did not leave Bbulas' smooth face. \"Yes, of course, honorable\n Terrestrials. That is why we are holding this ceremony. It is not a\n dance to bring on rain. It is a dance to\nstop\nrain.\"\n\n\n He was pretty quick on the uptake, Skkiru had to concede. However,\n that was not enough. The man had no genuine organizational ability.\n In the time he'd had in which to plan and carry out a scheme for\n the improvement of Snaddra, surely he could have done better than\n this high-school theocracy. For one thing, he could have apportioned\n the various roles so that each person would be making a definite\n contribution to the society, instead of creating some positions plums,\n like the priesthood, and others prunes, like the beggarship.\n\n\n What kind of life was that for an active, ambitious young man, standing\n around begging? And, moreover, from whom was Skkiru going to beg?\n Only the Earthmen, for the Snaddrath, no matter how much they threw\n themselves into the spirit of their roles, could not be so carried\n away that they would give handouts to a young man whom they had been\n accustomed to see basking in the bosom of luxury.\nUnfortunately, the fees that he'd received in the past had not enabled\n him both to live well and to save, and now that his fortunes had been\n so drastically reduced, he seemed in a fair way of starving to death.\n It gave him a gentle, moody pleasure to envisage his own funeral,\n although, at the same time, he realized that Bbulas would probably have\n to arrange some sort of pension for him; he could not expect Skkiru's\n patriotism to extend to abnormal limits. A man might be willing to die\n for his planet in many ways—but wantonly starving to death as the\n result of a primitive affectation was hardly one of them.\n\n\n All the same, Skkiru reflected as he watched the visitors being led off\n to the native hut prepared for them, how ignominious it would be for\n one of the brightest young architects on the planet to have to subsist\n miserably on the dole just because the world had gone aboveground. The\n capital had risen to the surface and the other cities would soon follow\n suit. Meanwhile, a careful system of tabus had been designed to keep\n the Earthmen from discovering the existence of those other cities.\n\n\n He could, of course, emigrate to another part of the planet, to one of\n them, and stave off his doom for a while—but that would not be playing\n the game. Besides, in such a case, he wouldn't be able to see Larhgan.\n\n\n As if all this weren't bad enough, he had been done an injury which\n struck directly at his professional pride. He hadn't even been allowed\n to help in planning the huts. Bbulas and some workmen had done all that\n themselves with the aid of some antique blueprints that had been put\n out centuries before by a Terrestrial magazine and had been acquired\n from a rare tape-and-book dealer on Gambrell, for, Skkiru thought, far\n too high a price. He could have designed them himself just as badly and\n much more cheaply.\n\n\n It wasn't that Skkiru didn't understand well enough that Snaddra had\n been forced into making such a drastic change in its way of life.\n What resources it once possessed had been depleted and—aside from\n minerals—they had never been very extensive to begin with. All\n life-forms on the planet were on the point of extinction, save fish and\n rice—the only vegetable that would grow on Snaddra, and originally a\n Terran import at that. So food and fiber had to be brought from the\n other planets, at fabulous expense, for Snaddra was not on any of\n the direct trade routes and was too unattractive to lure the tourist\n business.\n\n\n Something definitely had to be done, if it were not to decay\n altogether. And that was where the Planetary Dilettante came in.\nThe traditional office of Planetary Dilettante was a civil-service\n job, awarded by competitive examination whenever it fell vacant to\n the person who scored highest in intelligence, character and general\n gloonatz. However, the tests were inadequate when it came to measuring\n sense of proportion, adaptiveness and charm—and there, Skkiru felt,\n was where the essential flaw lay. After all, no really effective test\n would have let a person like Bbulas come out on top.\n\n\n The winner was sent to Gambrell, the nearest planet with a Terran\n League University, to be given a thorough Terran-type education. No\n individual on Snaddra could afford such schooling, no matter how\n great his personal fortune, because the transportation costs were so\n immense that only a government could afford them. That was the reason\n why only one person in each generation could be chosen to go abroad at\n the planet's expense and acquire enough finish to cover the rest of the\n population.\n\n\n The Dilettante's official function had always been, in theory, to serve\n the planet when an emergency came—and this, old Luccar, the former\n President, had decided, when he and the Parliament had awakened to the\n fact that Snaddra was falling into ruin, was an emergency. So he had,\n after considerable soul-searching, called upon Bbulas to plan a method\n of saving Snaddra—and Bbulas, happy to be in the limelight at last,\n had come up with this program.\n\n\n It was not one Skkiru himself would have chosen. It was not one, he\n felt, that any reasonable person would have chosen. Nevertheless, the\n Bbulas Plan had been adopted by a majority vote of the Snaddrath,\n largely because no one had come up with a feasible alternative and,\n as a patriotic citizen, Skkiru would abide by it. He would accept the\n status of beggar; it was his duty to do so. Moreover, as in the case of\n the planet, there was no choice.\n\n\n But all was not necessarily lost, he told himself. Had he not, in his\n anthropological viewings—though Bbulas might have been the only one\n privileged to go on ethnological field trips to other planets, he was\n not the only one who could use a library—seen accounts of societies\n where beggarhood could be a rewarding and even responsible station in\n life? There was no reason why, within the framework of the primitive\n society Bbulas had created to allure Terran anthropologists, Skkiru\n should not make something of himself and show that a beggar was worthy\n of the high priestess's hand—which would be entirely in the Terran\n primitive tradition of romance.\n\n\n \"Skkiru!\" Bbulas was screaming, as he spun, now that the Terrans were\n out of ear- and eye-shot \"Skkiru, you idiot, listen to me! What are\n those ridiculous things you are wearing on your silly feet?\"\n\n\n Skkiru protruded all of his eyes in innocent surprise. \"Just some\n old pontoons I took from a wrecked air-car once. I have a habit of\n collecting junk and I thought—\"\n\n\n Bbulas twirled madly in the air. \"You are not supposed to think. Leave\n all the thinking to me!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Bbulas,\" Skkiru said meekly.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Skkiru think the dilettante had fixed the lots?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_1", "options": ["the dilettante was jealous of his girlfriend", "the dilettante was regretful", "the dilettante was unintelligent", "the dilettante was egotistical"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the people of Snaddra need to pretend?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_2", "options": ["They were a primitive society", "They didn't want to attract attention", "They didn't want their resources stolen", "They wanted to attract attention"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the people of Snaddra know about people from Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_3", "options": ["They had seen pictures and videos of them", "They had just read some about them", "Nothing", "Very little"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did they feel about walking on the planet's surface?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_4", "options": ["They refused to ever do it", "They considered it uncivilized", "They preferred to be there all the time", "They liked to do it at least once a day"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What advantage did Skkiru find to being a beggar?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_5", "options": ["The humans gave him money", "He could get close to the humans", "He could get away from Larhgan", "He didn't need shoes"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the people of Snaddra not have?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_6", "options": ["Antennae", "Three eyes", "Wings", "Two hearts"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why were the people of Snaddra not dressed for the weather?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_7", "options": ["They had never been outside before", "They wanted the humans to look at them", "They liked being cold", "They could not afford clothes"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Skkiru get shoes when he wasn't allowed to wear them?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_8", "options": ["He salvaged them", "He stole them from the spaceship", "He found them on the edge of the field", "He begged them from a human"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the dilettante think about the humans?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_9", "options": ["They wanted to colonize Snaddra", "They had antennae", "They were interested in studying advanced civilizations", "They were unable to lie"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Skkiru's hope?", "question_unique_id": "51413_0Q4GSNGI_10", "options": ["That he could drive away the humans", "That he could win back his girlfriend", "That he could serve Bbulas", "That he could beg enough money to not starve"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/1/51413//51413-h//51413-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20041", "set_unique_id": "20041_E0WD00T4", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "Vulgar Keynesians", "year": "1997", "author": "Paul Krugman", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Vulgar Keynesians \n\n         Economics, like all intellectual enterprises, is subject to the law of diminishing disciples. A great innovator is entitled to some poetic license. If his ideas are at first somewhat rough, if he exaggerates the discontinuity between his vision and what came before, no matter: Polish and perspective can come in due course. But inevitably there are those who follow the letter of the innovator's ideas but misunderstand their spirit, who are more dogmatic in their radicalism than the orthodox were in their orthodoxy. And as ideas spread, they become increasingly simplistic--until what eventually becomes part of the public consciousness, part of what \"everyone knows,\" is no more than a crude caricature of the original. \n\n         Such has been the fate of Keynesian economics. John Maynard Keynes himself was a magnificently subtle and innovative thinker. Yet one of his unfortunate if unintentional legacies was a style of thought--call it vulgar Keynesianism--that confuses and befogs economic debate to this day. \n\n         Before the 1936 publication of Keynes' The General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money , economists had developed a rich and insightful theory of microeconomics , of the behavior of individual markets and the allocation of resources among them. But macroeconomics --the study of economy-wide events like inflation and deflation, booms and slumps--was in a state of arrested development that left it utterly incapable of making sense of the Great Depression. \n\n         So-called \"classical\" macroeconomics asserted that the economy had a long-run tendency to return to full employment, and focused only on that long run. Its two main tenets were the quantity theory of money--the assertion that the overall level of prices was proportional to the quantity of money in circulation--and the \"loanable funds\" theory of interest, which asserted that interest rates would rise or fall to equate total savings with total investment. \n\n         Keynes was willing to concede that in some sufficiently long run, these theories might indeed be valid; but, as he memorably pointed out, \"In the long run we are all dead.\" In the short run, he asserted, interest rates were determined not by the balance between savings and investment at full employment but by \"liquidity preference\"--the public's desire to hold cash unless offered a sufficient incentive to invest in less safe and convenient assets. Savings and investment were still necessarily equal; but if desired savings at full employment turned out to exceed desired investment, what would fall would be not interest rates but the level of employment and output. In particular, if investment demand should fall for whatever reason--such as, say, a stock-market crash--the result would be an economy-wide slump. \n\n         It was a brilliant re-imagining of the way the economy worked, one that received quick acceptance from the brightest young economists of the time. True, some realized very early that Keynes' picture was oversimplified; in particular, that the level of employment and output would normally feed back to interest rates, and that this might make a lot of difference. Still, for a number of years after the publication of The General Theory , many economic theorists were fascinated by the implications of that picture, which seemed to take us into a looking-glass world in which virtue was punished and self-indulgence rewarded. \n\n         Consider, for example, the \"paradox of thrift.\" Suppose that for some reason the savings rate--the fraction of income not spent--goes up. According to the early Keynesian models, this will actually lead to a decline in total savings and investment. Why? Because higher desired savings will lead to an economic slump, which will reduce income and also reduce investment demand; since in the end savings and investment are always equal, the total volume of savings must actually fall! \n\n         Or consider the \"widow's cruse\" theory of wages and employment (named after an old folk tale). You might think that raising wages would reduce the demand for labor; but some early Keynesians argued that redistributing income from profits to wages would raise consumption demand, because workers save less than capitalists (actually they don't, but that's another story), and therefore increase output and employment. \n\n         Such paradoxes are still fun to contemplate; they still appear in some freshman textbooks. Nonetheless, few economists take them seriously these days. There are a number of reasons, but the most important can be stated in two words: Alan Greenspan. \n\n         After all, the simple Keynesian story is one in which interest rates are independent of the level of employment and output. But in reality the Federal Reserve Board actively manages interest rates, pushing them down when it thinks employment is too low and raising them when it thinks the economy is overheating. You may quarrel with the Fed chairman's judgment--you may think that he should keep the economy on a looser rein--but you can hardly dispute his power. Indeed, if you want a simple model for predicting the unemployment rate in the United States over the next few years, here it is: It will be what Greenspan wants it to be, plus or minus a random error reflecting the fact that he is not quite God. \n\n          But putting Greenspan (or his successor) into the picture restores much of the classical vision of the macroeconomy. Instead of an invisible hand pushing the economy toward full employment in some unspecified long run, we have the visible hand of the Fed pushing us toward its estimate of the noninflationary unemployment rate over the course of two or three years. To accomplish this, the board must raise or lower interest rates to bring savings and investment at that target unemployment rate in line with each other. And so all the paradoxes of thrift, widow's cruses, and so on become irrelevant. In particular, an increase in the savings rate will translate into higher investment after all, because the Fed will make sure that it does. \n\n         To me, at least, the idea that changes in demand will normally be offset by Fed policy--so that they will, on average, have no effect on employment--seems both simple and entirely reasonable. Yet it is clear that very few people outside the world of academic economics think about things that way. For example, the debate over the North American Free Trade Agreement was conducted almost entirely in terms of supposed job creation or destruction. The obvious (to me) point that the average unemployment rate over the next 10 years will be what the Fed wants it to be, regardless of the U.S.-Mexico trade balance, never made it into the public consciousness. (In fact, when I made that argument at one panel discussion in 1993, a fellow panelist--a NAFTA advocate, as it happens--exploded in rage: \"It's remarks like that that make people hate economists!\") \n\n         What has made it into the public consciousness--including, alas, that of many policy intellectuals who imagine themselves well informed--is a sort of caricature Keynesianism, the hallmark of which is an uncritical acceptance of the idea that reduced consumer spending is always a bad thing. In the United States, where inflation and the budget deficit have receded for the time being, vulgar Keynesianism has recently staged an impressive comeback. The paradox of thrift and the widow's cruse are both major themes in William Greider's latest book, which I discussed last month. (Although it is doubtful whether Greider is aware of the source of his ideas--as Keynes wrote, \"Practical men, who believe themselves quite exempt from any intellectual influence, are usually the slaves of some defunct economist.\") It is perhaps not surprising that the same ideas are echoed by John B. Judis in the ; but when you see the idea that higher savings will actually reduce growth treated seriously in (\"Looking for Growth in All the Wrong Places,\" Feb. 3), you realize that there is a real cultural phenomenon developing. \n\n         To justify the claim that savings are actually bad for growth (as opposed to the quite different, more reasonable position that they are not as crucial as some would claim), you must convincingly argue that the Fed is impotent--that it cannot, by lowering interest rates, ensure that an increase in desired savings gets translated into higher investment. \n\n          It is not enough to argue that interest rates are only one of several influences on investment. That is like saying that my pressure on the gas pedal is only one of many influences on the speed of my car. So what? I am able to adjust that pressure, and so my car's speed is normally determined by how fast I think I can safely drive. Similarly, Greenspan is able to change interest rates freely (the Fed can double the money supply in a day, if it wants to), and so the level of employment is normally determined by how high he thinks it can safely go--end of story. \n\n         No, to make sense of the claim that savings are bad you must argue either that interest rates have no effect on spending (try telling that to the National Association of Homebuilders) or that potential savings are so high compared with investment opportunities that the Fed cannot bring the two in line even at a near-zero interest rate. The latter was a reasonable position during the 1930s, when the rate on Treasury bills was less than one-tenth of 1 percent; it is an arguable claim right now for Japan, where interest rates are about 1 percent. (Actually, I think that the Bank of Japan could still pull that economy out of its funk, and that its passivity is a case of gross malfeasance. That, however, is a subject for another column.) But the bank that holds a mortgage on my house sends me a little notice each month assuring me that the interest rate in America is still quite positive, thank you. \n\n         Anyway, this is a moot point, because the people who insist that savings are bad do not think that the Fed is impotent. On the contrary, they are generally the same people who insist that the disappointing performance of the U.S. economy over the past generation is all the Fed's fault, and that we could grow our way out of our troubles if only Greenspan would let us. \n\n         Let's quote the Feb. 3 Business                 Week commentary: \n\n                         Some contrarian economists argue that forcing up savings is likely to slow the economy, depressing investment rather than sparking it. \"You need to stimulate the investment decision,\" says University of Texas economist James K. Galbraith, a Keynesian. He would rather stimulate growth by cutting interest rates.              \n\n         So, increasing savings will slow the economy--presumably because the Fed cannot induce an increase in investment by cutting interest rates. Instead, the Fed should stimulate growth by cutting interest rates, which will work because lower interest rates will induce an increase in investment. \n\n         Am I missing something? \n\n                         To read the reply of \"Vulgar Keynesian\" James K. Galbraith, in which he explains green cheese and Keynes, click here.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is true about Keynes?", "question_unique_id": "20041_E0WD00T4_1", "options": ["Everyone is familiar with his teachings", "He was a vulgar person", "Some of his followers have distorted his ideas", "His ideas were simplistic"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is not true about Keynes?", "question_unique_id": "20041_E0WD00T4_2", "options": ["He brought new ideas into macroeconomics", "He never oversimplified economic ideas", "He brought new ideas into microeconomics", "He focused on what happened in the shorter term"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Keynes teach?", "question_unique_id": "20041_E0WD00T4_3", "options": ["There is no connection between savings and investment", "Saving a lot is always a good thing", "Interest rates are independent of the actions of the populace", "Saving a lot leads to an economic downturn"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the Federal Reserve Board want to control the unemployment rate?", "question_unique_id": "20041_E0WD00T4_4", "options": ["To impact the amount people save", "To impact inflation", "To impact the gold reserves", "To impact interest rates"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the author tell a story about his vehicle?", "question_unique_id": "20041_E0WD00T4_5", "options": ["To talk about how fast he drives", "To make a point about what has the most impact on the economy", "To talk about safe driving speeds", "To make a point about how many different things impact the unemployment rate"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author point out about the Fed?", "question_unique_id": "20041_E0WD00T4_6", "options": ["They could control the economy but they refuse to act", "People who think saving is damaging also think the Fed has no power", "They think they have power over the economy but they really don't", "Some people think the Fed has lots of power but use it incorrectly"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What point does the author make about interest rates?", "question_unique_id": "20041_E0WD00T4_7", "options": ["Potential savings are too high compared with investment opportunities", "They can be changed any time the Fed thinks it is advantageous to do so", "Interest rates in the US are near-zero", "Interest rates have no effect on spending"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": 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{"article_id": "20048", "set_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "I Have Seen the Future of Europe", "year": "1997", "author": "Gregg Easterbrook", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "I Have Seen the Future of Europe \n\n         The Eurocrats were thinking ahead when they made Brussels the \"Capital of Europe,\" headquarters of the emerging European Union. Though practically unknown in the United States, the union is one of Europe's biggest stories, an important organization trying to establish itself as a sort of metagovernment for European states. Entertainingly, the European Union is perhaps the sole bureaucracy left in the world that admits that its goal is to expand. And what better place to locate this new enterprise than Brussels, which may be a living preview of the Europe to come: swathed in red tape and pomp, paralyzed by constituency politics, declining at great cost. The European Union couldn't have picked a better home. \n\n         Belgian politics enjoy none of the rowdy intellectual contention of the United Kingdom, none of the nuance-loving literary polemics of France, not even a strong national identity. The primary issue in public debate is who gets what benefits, and while commerce and money are gods, neither is served particularly well. The national infrastructure is fraying, with little renewal: Belgians have a high per-capita income and spend it generously on cars and dining, but what Rousseau called the esprit social seems lacking. Crumbling, generic, enervated, debt-ridden, materialistic ... is this Europe's future? \n\n         Brussels is a place where you can take your dog into a restaurant, but not your kids. Where a best-selling product, in an ostensibly Catholic country, is Judas beer. (My proposed slogan: \"Taste you can trust.\") Where there's no such thing as takeout coffee with lids. Anyone who wants coffee must sit languidly in a cafe, gradually feeling overcome with lethargy and despair. \n\n         Other European atmospherics: lobster bisque for sale from sidewalk vendors; excellent public transportation; monumental traffic jams of expensive cars crowding small streets; bare breasts common in advertisements and at beaches, miniskirts being considered acceptable attire for professional women (when, oh when will these enlightened attitudes reach the United States?); notably more pollution than in the United States; notably more government, running higher deficits; lots of well-cared-for historic buildings, such as the built-in-the-14 th -century church I attend with my family; prices far too high, except for wine and flowers, which are cheap (European staples, you know); large cemeteries, where thousands of U.S. soldiers rest beneath uniform stone markers; and ubiquitous fresh bread and great chocolates. \n\n         Many tongues are spoken here, but multilingualism serves mainly to delineate constituent groups, not to facilitate communication. Southern Belgium, called Wallonia, is French; the northern portion, Flanders, is Dutch. The civic sphere is entirely bilingual, down to abbreviations: Buses and trams are brightly labeled MIVB/STIB, the transit-agency acronyms in French and Flemish. But bilingualism doesn't seem to do much to bring people together. In the Flemish parts of town, most people would rather hear English than French, and in the French sections, Flemish is rarely welcome. Until recently, Belgian politics were dominated by an aging Francophone aristocracy, whose wealth was secured by Wallonian mines. But mining is a dying industry throughout Europe, and Wallonia now produces only 13 percent of Belgium's exports, vs. 68 percent for Flanders. The Flemish have jumped into electronics, trading, and other growth sectors, while the Walloons have stagnated, devoting their energies to demanding more benefits. Their economic power on the rise, the Flemish have pressured for a dominant position in politics. The result is an uneasy compromise giving Flanders and Wallonia semiautonomy. \n\n          Public strikes, particularly ones blocking traffic and commerce, are a regular event here, making it somewhat of a mystery how Belgium maintains its high living standard. In the past year, teachers, students, firefighters, civil servants, airline workers, and others have closed off large sections of Brussels to chant for higher benefits. Ground crews for Sabena, the national flag carrier, ran amok during a 1996 strike day at the airport, smashing the terminal's glass walls and doing millions of francs worth of damage, then demanding more money from the very government that was going to have to pay for the repairs. \n\n         What are the protesters striking about? Typical working conditions in Belgium include retirement at 60 or younger, full pay for 32 hours of work, six weeks' paid vacation, and essentially unlimited sick days. Much more than high wages (which a profitable enterprise can bear), such work rules are what stymie the continent's economies, with overall Western European unemployment now at 10.9 percent, double the U.S. figure. \n\n         Yet, sympathy is usually with strikers, and cowed politicians give in to almost all demands from almost all quarters. Polls repeatedly show that majorities think government should give the workers more, a legacy of the European class system. Europe is plagued by families that have been filthy rich for generations--based on no useful contribution to society. And a residue of estates reminds voters of the landed gentry's historic role as parasites. But the link between government giving the workers more, and taxes and public debt rising, does not seem to have sunk in on this side of the Atlantic, except perhaps in the United Kingdom, where, perhaps not coincidentally, unemployment is relatively low. \n\n         As in most of Europe, state-sanctioned monopolies drag down Belgian economic activity, and government barriers to entrepreneurs are much worse than anywhere in America. Sabena loses money even though it has government-protected air routes, a high percentage of business flyers, and the highest seat-mile prices in Europe. \n\n         The ossified state of European telecom monopolies would stun American Webheads. One reason Slate is not a national obsession in Europe (as, of course, it is in the United States) is that Internet use remains a luxury here. The phone monopolies have priced out 800 access. Belgacom charges 5 cents per minute for connections to any Internet service provider, making the connection more expensive than the provider's service. Ten years ago Robert Reich, having seen the French Minitel experiment, warned that Europe would beat the United States to the next communication revolution--instead, U.S. Web entrepreneurs left Europe in the dust. Now European telecoms and communication bureaucrats spend their energies on blocking innovation and searching for ways to monopolize a new enterprise whose entire soul is decentralization. \n\n         These rapacious European phone monopolies have given birth to independent call-back services. Once registered, you dial a number in the United States, where a computer with caller-ID recognizes you after one ring. You hang up to avoid a Belgacom charge, and the computer calls you back, providing you with a stateside dial tone so you can dial as if you were in the United States. Call-back services allow me to call the United States for 70 cents a minute, vs. the $2.60-per-minute Belgacom charge, and make it cheaper to call Antwerp--just 40 miles away--via California than directly. Naturally, European governments want to tax call-back services out of existence. Supposedly, the European telecom market will deregulate in 1999, and in anticipation of being phaser-blasted by true competition, Belgacom just sold 45 percent of itself to a consortium led by Ameritech. Foreign managers will now be blamed for cutting the deadwood. \n\n          In a sense, all European governments are angling to shift the blame for financial reality onto someone else via the euro. In theory, national currencies such as the pound, mark, and lira will all disappear, replaced by one universal tender. A unified currency makes economic sense, but trade efficiency is only one motive for many governments. Participation in the new currency requires nations to cut their national debt below 3 percent of GDP. A dirty little secret of Western Europe is that it has gone further into hock than the United States. U.S. public debt was down to 1.4 percent of GDP in 1996, and may drop below 1 percent this fiscal year. Germany, France, and Belgium all are running public debts at 3 percent or more, and Italy is at 7.4 percent. European national leaders know they've got to tackle their deficits, but none of them wants the heat for cutting featherbedding or generous social-payment systems. So the euro plan allows them to blame foreign interests for required reductions. \n\n         But will the spooky level of Belgian corruption rub off on the euro? Observers consider Belgium the second-most corrupt European state, trailing only Italy. Last year, the Belgian secretary-general of NATO had to quit over charges that his Flemish Socialist Party accepted $50 million in bribes from a defense contractor. Police recently arrested two other top politicians and raided the headquarters of the French Socialist Party in connection with bribes from another defense firm. \n\n         The European Union's Eurocrats have worthy ideas, such as persuading the continent's governments to agree on harmonious environmental and immigration policies. But the real overriding goal of the union and its executive arm, the European Commission (there's also a European Parliament here, but we can skip that), is self-aggrandizement. In conversations, Eurocrats are frank about their maneuvering for more money and empire: to wrest \"competence,\" or jurisdiction, away from national governments and vest it in Brussels is the open objective. \n\n         The union's command center is a cathedral to bureaucratic power, the only diplomatic structure I've ever been in that actually looks the way Hollywood depicts diplomatic life. At State Department headquarters in Foggy Bottom, paint is peeling in the halls and people with titles like \"deputy director\" work in chintzy little Dilbert cubicles. At the marble-clad European Union headquarters, even midlevel Eurocrats have large, plush suites with leather chairs and original artwork on the walls. Ranks of big black-glass BMWs and Mercedes limos are parked at the structure's circular drive, motors wastefully idling. Landing a job in the Brussels Eurocracy has become the career goal of many of Europe's best graduates. \n\n          The European Union's behavior synchs with its opulent circumstances. Meetings are held in secret, and few public-disclosure regulations apply. This is the future of European government? Just how competent the new organization may be is on display at Berlaymont, the first European Commission headquarters. Forerunner of the current sumptuous building, this vast skyscraper now sits near the center of Brussels unoccupied, its entire outer structure swathed in heavy tarpaulin. Berlaymont has been closed for nine years after an asbestos scare and a botched cleanup: European taxpayers have paid $50 million so far merely to keep the building closed, with air pumps running around the clock to prevent any fibers from wafting out. A mountain of scientific studies has shown that asbestos in walls is almost never dangerous: The only dangerous thing is trying to rip it out because that causes fibers to become airborne--exactly what has happened at Berlaymont. And if the European Union can't manage its continent any better than it manages its own buildings ... \n\n         Fortunately, Berlaymont isn't in my neighborhood, but a patisserie is. Bakeries are easier to find than gas stations in Brussels, and the neon bakery sign I can see from my office window often calls out to me the way signs for cocktail lounges once called out to earlier generations of writers. Think I'll answer now.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why were nations in favor of adopting the euro?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_1", "options": ["To trade freely with the US", "To take responsibility for their spending", "To have an excuse to cut social programs", "To not have to mint their own money"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the main goal of the EU?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_2", "options": ["Bribery", "Increase financial gain and power", "Simplify immigration", "Take care of the environment"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author wish to have?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_3", "options": ["Honest government", "Baked goods", "A drink", "Clean air "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is not a characteristic of the EU, according to the author?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_4", "options": ["wasteful", "secretive", "accountable", "lavish"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is not true about Belgians?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_5", "options": ["they make a lot of money", "they are demanding", "they love to spend money", " they have a strong sense of nationalism"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author think will be in the future of Europe?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_6", "options": ["enlightened politics", "costly decline", "efficient government", "lack of bureaucracy"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are Belgian politicians most likely to fight over?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_7", "options": ["literary polemics", "infrastructure", "intellectual disagreements", "social programs"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Belgium compare to the US?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_8", "options": ["Dress more modestly than the US", "More barriers for small business than in the US", "Drink more coffee than the US", "More patriotic than the US"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why do Europeans not go online more?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_9", "options": ["They are too busy working", "They can't afford the phone bill", "They are too busy striking", "They don't like to spend money"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the result of having multiple ethnicities in Belgium?", "question_unique_id": "20048_2UKOUEKS_10", "options": ["Separate special interest groups", "Unity", "Good communication", "A dying mining industry"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], 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{"article_id": "20020", "set_unique_id": "20020_L7G74WXN", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "MONICA!", "year": "1998", "author": "Jamie Malanowski", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "MONICA!\nThe White House may have been in crisis all year, but the events were less the stuff of great drama than of a farcical musical comedy. Hey, wait a minute--let's put on a show! \n\n                         The time: November 1995.              \n\n                         The House Republicans, led by Speaker Newt Gingrich, are insisting on their version of the budget. President Bill Clinton is stubbornly rejecting it. The Republicans have taken a bold option: They will just refuse to pass a budget, and they'll let the government shut down. In the Oval Office, BILL CLINTON meets with advisers LEON PANETTA and HAROLD ICKES and secretary BETTY CURRIE to discuss this development.              \n\n         \"The Shutdown\" (upbeat production number) \n\n                         PANETTA: The Republicans have positions \n\n         To which they're clinging fast. \n\n                         ICKES: The president is just as firm \n\n         The die, it seems, is cast. \n\n                         PANETTA: Without a budget passed by Congress \n\n         The government will close. \n\n         All of the workers \n\n         Will be sent home on furloughs. \n\n                         CLINTON \n\n            [speaking]                : Well, wait a second--not all of them. We'll need to keep some essential personnel. \n\n                         PANETTA: The Army and the Navy \n\n         Will need to stay in place. \n\n                         ICKES: Also those at NASA \n\n         Who keep the shuttle up in space. \n\n                         PANETTA: We'll need to keep the pilots \n\n         Flying in their planes. \n\n                         CLINTON: And here at the White House \n\n         My staff should remain. \n\n                         PANETTA \n\n            [speaking]                : But even here at the White House, some adjustments will be required. \n\n                         CLINTON: OK, tell the ushers \n\n         To take a few days off. \n\n         Tell the maids and cooks and butlers \n\n         To go play themselves some golf. \n\n         We have to do without the clerks \n\n         Let them all go home. \n\n                         CURRIE: What about the secretaries? \n\n         Who will get the phones? \n\n                         CLINTON \n\n            [speaking]                : We've got to make sure the Oval Office functions with efficiency. We can't afford the tiniest error. \n\n                         PANETTA: Aha! I have it! \n\n         We'll bring in an intern, \n\n         We'll bring in an intern, \n\n         Someone who's an expert with a phone. \n\n         We'll bring in an intern, \n\n         We'll bring in an intern, \n\n         I assure you, Mr. President-- \n\n         Your routine here won't get blown. \n\n                         PANETTA , ICKES , and CURRIE                 [solemnly agreeing]                :              \n\n         The presence of an intern will ensure \n\n         Your routine here won't get blown. \n\n          \n\n            [The advisers depart, leaving President Clinton alone. He turns introspective.]              \n\n         \"President Lonely\" (a ballad) \n\n                         CLINTON: I've got deputies and bureaucrats \n\n         Who fulfill my every thought. \n\n         And soldiers, sailors, and Marines \n\n         To fight battles I want fought. \n\n         There's no one who's got more power, \n\n         I'm the leader of all that's free \n\n         But if you subtract the flags and lackeys, I'm just \n\n         Lonely. \n\n         I'm President Lonely. \n\n         But I guess I'll just have to muddle through. \n\n         The cheers and applause are overwhelming, \n\n         But presidents need cuddles, too. \n\n         The fawning adoration's pleasant, \n\n         But presidents need cuddles, too. \n\n                         [Enter Betty Currie.]              \n\n                         CURRIE: Mr. President? The intern is here. And she's brought you some pizza! \n\n                         [The lights go down. When they resume, the intern-- MONICA LEWINSKY --is talking on the phone to her good friend LINDA TRIPP .]              \n\n                         LEWINSKY: Well, y'know, I'd seen him around, like, a lot. And I know he noticed me. So when they said they needed an intern to answer the phones, I said, \"Hel-lo-o-o!\" And then I had the idea to take him pizza! \n\n          \n\n            TRIPP: And then what happened? \n\n         \"What Went On\" (upbeat) \n\n                         LEWINSKY: Then I led him on. \n\n         I showed him my thong, \n\n         I let him take a long and ling'ring look. \n\n         I led him on. \n\n         He studied my thong, \n\n         And from that point I had the president hooked. \n\n         That night when I took the president some pizza, \n\n         I made sure that he knew that he could have a piece. \n\n         We went into the hallway by his study \n\n         And dispensed with formalities. \n\n                         TRIPP: Oh please go on! \n\n         You must go on! \n\n         Come on, girlfriend, \n\n         Spill, spill, spill, spill, spill! \n\n         Now go on, \n\n         Please go on. \n\n         Did Clinton let you say hi to Little Bill? \n\n           \n\n                         LEWINSKY: His lips and mine locked in a kiss fantastic, \n\n         His hands roved freely 'neath my blouse, \n\n         I reached into the presidential trousers, \n\n         And he got a phone call from a member of the House. \n\n         So I went on, \n\n         While he talked on the phone, \n\n         I took a position before him on my knees, \n\n         And I went on. \n\n         And he talked on. \n\n         Though what the congressman heard was \n\n          \"Please, please, please, please, please!\" \n\n         But then we didn't go on! \n\n                         TRIPP: You didn't go on? \n\n                         LEWINSKY: No, he stopped me when he seemed upon the cusp. \n\n                         TRIPP: So you didn't go on? \n\n                         LEWINSKY: No, we didn't go on. \n\n         He said he wasn't sure if I was someone he \n\n         Could \n\n         Trust. \n\n                         [The lights fade as the girlfriends engage in cross talk.]              \n\n                         TRIPP: Trust? \n\n                         LEWINSKY: That's why we didn't go on. \n\n                         TRIPP: That's so weird! What did he think? That you'd go blabbin' this to the whole world? \n\n                         LEWINSKY: I mean--rilly! Hey, what's that clicking? \n\n                         TRIPP: It's just my gum. \n\n                         LEWINSKY: Oh--OK! \n\n                         [As the relationship between Clinton and Monica continues, some members of the White House staff become worried about the prudence of continuing the relationship with so much potential for scandal. This song is a conversation between Betty Currie, who, though worried, still thinks Monica is a good person, and the rather stonier EVELYN LIEBERMAN .]              \n\n         \"Time to Go\" \n\n                         CURRIE: They go back there, \n\n         They're just talking, \n\n         I'm sure she has a very thirsty mind. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: I don't mind a girl who thinks, \n\n         It's just what she picks to drink. \n\n         Betty, it's Lewinsky's time to go. \n\n                         CURRIE: She brings him \n\n         Little presents. \n\n         She really is a very thoughtful soul. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: It's not the junk I mind as much \n\n         As her up real close and personal touch. \n\n         I tell ya, it's Miss Monica's time to go. \n\n                         CURRIE: She never comes \n\n         When he's really busy. \n\n         Rarely is there anyone around. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: Still the Secret Service wears a frown. \n\n         They shouldn't worry, he pats her down. \n\n         But I'm not kidding, it's time for her to go. \n\n                         CURRIE: Maybe she would like the Pentagon. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: Good idea--don't wait! \n\n                         CURRIE: Studly guys work at the Pentagon. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: Let's get Clinton's head on straight! \n\n                         CURRIE: He comes back \n\n         From Easter services, \n\n         Soon she's bopping in the door. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: \"Hallelujah, He Is Risen\" \n\n         Shouldn't inspire thoughts so sizzlin'. \n\n         Yes, it's really time for Monica to go. \n\n          \n\n            [Times passes. Monica moves to the Pentagon, but the relationship intermittently continues. Meanwhile, Paula Jones sues the president for sexual harassment, and it seems clear that before long, Clinton will have to testify under oath. Two close observers of those developments are old friends Linda Tripp and LUCIENNE GOLDBERG , who is friendly with lawyers for Jones and lawyers in the office of Independent Counsel KENNETH STARR . One day, Tripp and Goldberg talk on the phone.]              \n\n         \"Talk, Talk, Chat, Chat\" (sprightly) \n\n                         GOLDBERG and TRIPP: Talk, talk, \n\n         Chat, chat, \n\n         Two old galpals swap the latest word. \n\n         Talk, talk, \n\n         Chat, chat, \n\n         Two old girlfriends dish the latest dirt. \n\n                         GOLDBERG: I got tickets \n\n         To the opera, \n\n         Bloomie's says I've got $40 due, \n\n         I lost a filling \n\n         At lunch on Thursday. \n\n         That's it for me, \n\n         Now tell me what's up with you. \n\n                         TRIPP: My friend Monica? \n\n         From the White House? \n\n         I'm pretty sure what she's saying here is true. \n\n         It seems this Monica chick \n\n         Has been sucking the president's-- \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Oh that's sick! \n\n                         TRIPP: And the two of them are going to lie about it, \n\n         Too. \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Back up, Linda, \n\n         Did I hear you rightly? \n\n         Clinton got into an intern's pants? \n\n         God, this news is manna, Linda! \n\n         At last our cause will finally have it's chance! \n\n                         TRIPP: Oh, you're a dreamer Luci! \n\n         There'll be headlines, then he'll pull off an \n\n         Escape. \n\n         He'll spin the story, he'll turn the tables-- \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Unless you get that airhead down on tape. \n\n                         TRIPP: What? \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Unless you get that silly, vapid, trampy time bomb \n\n         Down on tape. \n\n                         TRIPP: Oh--one more thing ... \n\n                         GOLDBERG: What? \n\n                         TRIPP: There's a dress ... \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Hold on, let me call Sparky. \n\n          \n\n            [Independent Counsel Starr uses Tripp to detain Monica. A few days later, the news breaks. On the advice of his pal Harry Thomason, Clinton flat-out lies to his wife, to his loyalists, and to the public about the relationship.]              \n\n         \"I Never Have\" (performance should build in tempo and intensity) \n\n                         CLINTON: You know I'd like to answer questions, \n\n         An act my lawyers won't allow. \n\n         I'll give you more not less, sooner not later, \n\n         I just can't say a word right now. \n\n         But I don't know why she'd say these things \n\n         Her head's full of who knows what. But I never had sex with that woman \n\n         I never had sex with that n-- \n\n         Starr has spent $40 million, \n\n         There's desperation on his face. \n\n         An utter waste of public money, \n\n         A prosecutorial disgrace. \n\n         All he's got is some recordings \n\n         Made by a vengeful snitch. \n\n         I never had sex with that woman \n\n         I never had sex with that b-- \n\n         A vast right-wing conspiracy \n\n         Is using her to beat on me. \n\n         They wanna torpedo my agenda \n\n         They hate me and Hillary. \n\n         But I will never let them ruin \n\n         Our dreams for a better world. \n\n         I tell ya, I never had sex with that woman \n\n         I never had sex with that \n\n         Girl. \n\n          \n\n            [Months of investigation, legal wrangling, and public relations campaigning follow. Starr's tactics come under heavy fire, to which he responds.]              \n\n         \"Crossing the Line\" \n\n                         STARR: It's true Monica asked to lawyer up, \n\n         Which Bittman put the lid on. \n\n         And I felt bad about her mommy's grilling \n\n         Upon our little gridiron. \n\n         The Democrats and liberals \n\n         Blast these tactics of mine, \n\n         But a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do \n\n         When the president crosses the line. \n\n         He's crossed the line. \n\n         He's crossed the line. \n\n         Only a fool wouldn't stretch the rules \n\n         When the president crosses the line. \n\n         It may have seemed like dirty pool \n\n         To drag his people 'fore the jury. \n\n         We wasted lots of Vernon's time, \n\n         May have busted Bettie Currie. \n\n         His aides aren't the innocent bystanders \n\n         As they claim when they moan and whine. \n\n         They won't say what they know full well: \n\n         The president crossed the line. \n\n         He's crossed the line. \n\n         He's crossed the line. \n\n         I'd be a nitwit not to bend a bit \n\n         When the president crosses the line. \n\n         The talking heads are accusing me \n\n         Of laying a perjury trap. \n\n         But all it catches is lying men. \n\n         Honest men beat the rap. \n\n         There's people who say I'm against sex; \n\n         I've had sex. It's fine. \n\n         But lying about it gets my blood up \n\n         And the president's crossed the line. \n\n         I crossed the line. \n\n         I crossed the line. \n\n         Tell Steve Brill I'll leak at will \n\n         When the president crosses the line. \n\n          \n\n            [After months of denials and futile delays, Clinton finally testifies before the Starr grand jury and argues that, technically, he didn't lie.]              \n\n         \"Testimony\" (snappy) \n\n                         CLINTON: Depends what the definition of \"is\" is, \n\n         Depends on the meaning of sex, \n\n         \"Alone together\" is literal nonsense, \n\n         Before you reach conclusions, read your text. \n\n                         [Afterward, he speaks to the nation, admits doing wrong, and apologizes, though grudgingly.]              \n\n                         CLINTON: Inappropriate was the nature of our actions, \n\n         And believe me I regret the whole damn thing, \n\n         But inappropriate are all these personal questions, \n\n         The country doesn't need to know these things. \n\n          \n\n            [Clinton's enemies reject his apology, and soon the House of Representatives begins the long process of impeachment. NEWT GINGRICH here discloses his approach.]              \n\n         \"Bring 'em Down\" (dark, moody) \n\n                         GINGRICH: Mustn't seem to be too cheerful, \n\n         Mustn't overreach, \n\n         Must remember to seem unhappy \n\n         That we're going to impeach. \n\n         Must remember to remain sober \n\n         As we undertake this chore. \n\n         At the same time, let's remember \n\n         To pin some stuff on Gore. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n         Sure, they were elected, \n\n         Twice, in point of fact. \n\n         Voters obviously were bewildered \n\n         To have made a choice like that. \n\n         Now, like charging linemen, \n\n         We'll move in for the sack. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n          \n\n            [The House votes to hold impeachment hearings. But just a few weeks later, the midterm elections, which are expected to go the GOP's way, are held. Contrary to predictions, the Democrats pick up seats, and the GOP's obsession with scandal is repudiated. Gingrich resigns, and the practical chances of Clinton's removal evaporate. As the show ends, we hear from Starr, Lewinsky, and Clinton.]              \n\n         \"The People Have Spoken\" (dramatic, stirring) \n\n                         STARR: The election was held and the people have spoken, \n\n         I can't believe what they had to say. \n\n         I had Clinton boxed into a corner \n\n         Looks like he's going to get away. \n\n         I spent four years and 40 million \n\n         That's a lot of time and loot. \n\n         I made Clinton look ridiculous, \n\n         But the only scalp I got was Newt's. \n\n           \n\n                         LEWINSKY: The election was held and the people have spoken, \n\n         I can't believe what they had to say. \n\n         My boyfriend is still in office \n\n         And he might return to me one day. \n\n         You think perhaps that he will not want me \n\n         For all the trouble I've caused so far, \n\n         But he knows I can always make him happy \n\n         With my thong and my cigar. \n\n                         CLINTON: The election was held and the people have spoken, \n\n         I can't believe what they had to say. \n\n         The removal threat is over, \n\n         Kenneth Starr should go away. \n\n         I tell you, though, it is a mystery, \n\n         I mean, I'm unfaithful and I lie. \n\n         I might be guilty of obstruction, \n\n         Yet my ratings are sky-high. \n\n         That must mean I'm a pretty good president, \n\n         Though how, I don't think I know. \n\n         But obviously I'm not Starr or Gingrich, \n\n         Which may be why they love me so. \n\n         Which may be why they love me so. \n\n                         [Curtain.]\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does the author say Monica was hired?", "question_unique_id": "20020_L7G74WXN_1", "options": ["Clinton insisted his staff remain", "She was a secretary", "Due to the government shutdown", "It was in the budget"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What describes the relationship Monica had with Clinton before she was hired?", "question_unique_id": "20020_L7G74WXN_2", "options": ["They knew each other well", "They've never seen each other", "He had seen her and paid attention", "She had seen him but he didn't notice her"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the first thing Monica did to get Clinton's attention?", "question_unique_id": "20020_L7G74WXN_3", "options": ["Kissed him", "Let him look at her", "Showed him her underwear", "Brought him food"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Clinton tell Monica to stop?", "question_unique_id": "20020_L7G74WXN_4", "options": ["He was eating pizza", "He was uncertain about her", "He got a phone call", "He was afraid someone would walk in"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who thought Monica should leave?", "question_unique_id": "20020_L7G74WXN_5", "options": ["Evelyn", "Currie", "Clinton", "Linda"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many people knew about Monica's relationship with Clinton?", "question_unique_id": "20020_L7G74WXN_6", "options": ["No one", "One person", "Many people ", "Only the secret service"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What happened after Monica changed jobs?", "question_unique_id": "20020_L7G74WXN_7", "options": ["She kept seeing Clinton occasionally ", "She kept seeing Clinton all the time", "She decided to stop seeing Clinton", "She was no longer allowed to see Clinton"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Kenneth say he felt a need to investigate Clinton?", "question_unique_id": "20020_L7G74WXN_8", "options": ["It was his job", "It was a matter of principle", "The Republicans made him do it", "Monica's lawyer pressed him to"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, 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{"article_id": "20051", "set_unique_id": "20051_7QSETVSE", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "Reading the Inaugurals", "year": "1997", "author": "Herbert Stein", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Reading the Inaugurals \n\n         President Clinton's Inaugural Address this month is the 53 rd in the series that began in 1789. All are worth a read--not just the highlights, such as George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and FDR. They will give you a feeling of being there, not as an omniscient historian of 1997 looking back at 1837 or 1897 but as an ordinary citizen who shares--and is limited by--the information, the concerns, and the values of those times. (Thanks to Columbia University, all the addresses can be found on the Web.) \n\n         Among all the past presidents and their speech writers there was only one literary genius: Lincoln. After 132 years, his second inaugural still brings tears to your eyes and chills your blood. None of the other inaugural addresses are in that league. But by and large they are dignified and intelligent speeches given by articulate men, each in touch with his times and aware that his inauguration was the most solemn occasion of his life. \n\n         The stance and style of the inaugurals seem to have gone through three phases. The first, lasting until Lincoln, was that of the modest, classic public servant. The second, lasting through William Howard Taft, was of the prosaic government executive. The third, in which we are still, is the phase of the assertive, theatrical leader-preacher. This classification is not waterproof. Theodore Roosevelt may belong in the third phase and Warren G. Harding-Calvin Coolidge-Herbert Hoover in the second. But the trend is clear. \n\n         On picking up Washington's first inaugural, one is immediately struck by the modesty. He had just been elected unanimously by the Electoral College. He was more respected than any subsequent president has been at the time of his inauguration. And what does he say? \n\n                         [T]he magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice of my country called me, being sufficient to awaken in the wisest and most experienced of her citizens a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifications, could not but overwhelm with despondence one who (inheriting inferior endowments from nature and unpracticed in the duties of civil administration) ought to be peculiarly conscious of his own deficiencies.              \n\n          None of his successors has made the point as forcefully as that. But echoes are to be found in almost every president for the next 68 years. (John Adams was an exception. He was apparently so envious of Washington that he spent a large part of his address spelling out his own excellent qualifications for the job.) That era ended with Lincoln. Subsequent inaugurals routinely contain protestations of humility, but they are perfunctory and do not sound sincere. \n\n         The antebellum modesty, while in part a reflection of the conventional etiquette of the time, may also have served a political objective: to alleviate the concerns of those who--in the early days of the republic--feared it might be transformed into a monarchy, and the president into a king. A little later, perhaps after 1820, a new worry arose. Would the power of the federal government be used to interfere with the \"peculiar domestic institution\" of the Southern states? The presidents' assurance of the limitation of their powers may have been intended to give comfort to those states. \n\n         Lincoln faced a different situation. With the South already seceding, he could only \"preserve, protect and defend the Constitution\" by asserting the power of the federal government and his own power as chief executive. It was no time for modesty. Lincoln's successors inherited a federal government with much more authority--and more need to use it--than before the war, and they had less motivation to belittle themselves and their powers. \n\n         In the third phase, the Inaugural Address metamorphosed from describing the government's policy to inspiring the public's behavior. Presidents recognized--or, at least, believed--that the country had problems they ought to deal with but could not manage by using the instruments of government alone. Thus, in his first inaugural, Woodrow Wilson said: \"At last a vision has been vouchsafed us of our life as a whole. We see the bad with the good, the debased and decadent with the sound and the vital. With this vision we approach new affairs.\" \n\n         If the country is debased and decadent, the cure has to come from uplifting the people, not from acts of government. Similar diagnoses and prescriptions appear in later inaugurals. \n\n          Presidents derived their license to serve as leader-preacher from Theodore Roosevelt's remark that the presidency was \"a bully pulpit,\" a remark that did not appear in his Inaugural Address. The metaphor of the pulpit suggests not reading but oral and visual contact between the preacher and his flock. Radio and--even more--television made this possible on a national scale. A telltale sign of the leader-preacher inaugural is the use of the phrase, \"Let us ... \"--meaning, \"You do as I say.\" This expression appears occasionally throughout the history of inaugurals, but it has hit its stride in recent years. John F. Kennedy repeated it 16 times in his Inaugural Address, and Richard Nixon has it 22 times in his second one. \n\n         The change in literary style from classical to colloquial can be demonstrated by one statistic. In all the inaugurals from Washington through James Buchanan, the average number of words per sentence was 44. From Lincoln to Wilson it was 34, and since Wilson it has been 25. I do not consider this a deterioration (this article has an average of 17 words per sentence), but it does reflect the change in the size and character of the audience and in the means of communication. William Henry Harrison could talk about the governments of Athens, Rome, and the Helvetic Confederacy and expect his audience to know what he was talking about. That wouldn't be true today. But Harrison's audience would not have known what the Internet was. \n\n         Presidents and their speech writers have mined their predecessors for memorable words and repeated them without attribution. Kennedy's trumpet call, \"Ask not what your country can do for you: Ask what you can do for your country,\" has an ironic history. In his inaugural, Harding, surely no model for Kennedy, had said, \"Our most dangerous tendency is to expect too little of government, and at the same time do for it too little.\" And even before he became president, in a speech in 1916, Harding had said, \"In the great fulfillment we must have a citizenship less concerned about what the government can do for it and more anxious about what it can do for the nation.\" \n\n         Many an issue frets its hour on the inaugural stage and then is heard no more. That includes the Indians, the coastal fortifications, territorial expansion, the Isthmus Canal, civil-service reform, polygamy, and Prohibition. Some subjects that you expect to appear, don't. Hoover's inaugural, March 4, 1929, gives no hint of economic vulnerability. Roosevelt's second inaugural, Jan. 20, 1937, contains no reference to Hitler or to Germany. But what is most amazing, at least to a reader in 1997, is the silence of the inaugurals on the subject of women. The word \"women\" does not appear at all until Wilson's first inaugural, and it always appears as part of the phrase \"men and women,\" never as referring to any special concerns of women. Even Harding, the first president to be chosen in an election in which women voted nationally, does not remark on the uniqueness of the fact in his inaugural. \n\n          One subject that does get ample treatment is taxes. \"Taxes,\" or some equivalent word, appears in 43 of the 52 inaugural addresses to date. Coolidge said in 1925: \"The time is arriving when we can have further tax reduction. ... I am opposed to extremely high rates, because they produce little or no revenue, because they are bad for the country, and, finally, because they are wrong.\" Federal taxes were then about 3 percent of the gross domestic product. Ronald Reagan said essentially the same thing in 1981, when they were 20 percent. \n\n         The most disturbing aspect of the whole series of inaugurals is what is said and unsaid on the subject of race relations, which Arthur Schlesinger Jr. calls \"the supreme American problem.\" The words \"black,\" \"blacks,\" \"Negro,\" or \"race\" (as applied to blacks) do not appear at all until Rutherford Hayes, 1877. James Monroe asked in 1817, \"On whom has oppression fallen in any quarter of our Union? Who has been deprived of any right of person or property?\" These were rhetorical questions, intended to get the answer \"No one!\"--as if there were not millions of slaves in America. \n\n         Before the Civil War the word \"slavery\" appears only in the Inaugural Address of Martin Van Buren, 1837, and Buchanan, 1857, and then only as something that, pursuant to the Constitution and in order to preserve the Union, should not be interfered with. But although generally unmentionable, the subject was boiling, and would boil over in 1861. After the Civil War, it is in the inaugurals of Hayes, James Garfield (1881), and Benjamin Harrison (1889) that we find the most explicit and positive discussion of the need to convert into reality the rights and freedom granted to the \"freedmen\" on paper by the 13 th , 14 th , and 15 th amendments. Garfield's was the strongest among these. (He had been a student at Williams College in the 1850s, 80 years before me, when the college had been a station on the underground railway.) But the subject then began to fade. William McKinley said in his first Inaugural Address, March 4, 1897, \"Lynchings must not be tolerated in a great and civilized country like the United States,\" but he said it without horror. Taft raised the subject of race relations in 1909 only to express satisfaction at the progress that had been made. And then the subject disappeared. FDR never mentioned it in any of his four inaugurals. \n\n         After World War II the subject came back to inaugural addresses, but in a weak and abstract form. That is true even of the presidents we think of as being most concerned with race relations in America--like Harry Truman, Lyndon Johnson, and Bill Clinton. Perhaps each thought he had made a sufficient statement by having a black woman--Marian Anderson, Leontyne Price, or Maya Angelou--perform at his ceremony. In Clinton's first inaugural, the only allusion to the race problem is in this sentence: \"From our revolution, the Civil War, to the Great Depression to the civil rights movement, our people have always mustered the determination to construct from these crises the pillars of our history.\" I recall this not to suggest that their concern was not deep and sincere, but only to indicate what is acceptable to say in a speech intended to appeal to the values shared by Americans. \n\n         There is much more to ponder in these speeches than I have suggested here. There is much to be proud of, in what we have endured and achieved, in the peaceful transference of power, and in the reasonableness and moderation of the presidents we have elected. But there is also much humility to be learned. We look back with amazement at the ignorance and moral obtuseness revealed by what our past leaders have said and our past citizens believed. We should recognize that 50 or 100 years from now, readers will shake their heads at what we are saying and believing today. \n\n          \n\n            POSTSCRIPT: To read Herbert Stein's analysis of President Clinton's second Inaugural Address, click .\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which was not an era of the inaugural addresses?", "question_unique_id": "20051_7QSETVSE_1", "options": ["demanding executive", "forceful evangelist", "unassuming attendant of the people", "commonplace manager of the country"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What point did Washington make in his address?", "question_unique_id": "20051_7QSETVSE_2", "options": ["He was becoming the voice of his country", "He was respected by the nation", "He had been chosen unanimously ", "Being entrusted with such power makes you aware of the ways in which you are lacking"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did the early US population worry about?", "question_unique_id": "20051_7QSETVSE_3", "options": ["Electoral College unanimously choosing a president", "Monarchy taking over the country", "Limitations of federal power", "John Adams being envious of Washington"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "For what purpose did presidents not use their addresses?", "question_unique_id": "20051_7QSETVSE_4", "options": ["Stating their policy and goals", "Campaigning for reelection", "Alleviating public fears", "Motivating the populace to take desired action"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is true about the addresses?", "question_unique_id": "20051_7QSETVSE_5", "options": ["Presidents give the same amount of directives to the people during all eras", "Presidents never give directives to the people", "Presidents give more directives to the people as time goes by", "Presidents give fewer directives to the people as time goes by"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the addresses change in style over time?", "question_unique_id": "20051_7QSETVSE_6", "options": ["The presidents had different problems to address", "They were adapting to the changing populace", "They deteriorated over time", "They got less wordy"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When reading the addresses, which is true?", "question_unique_id": "20051_7QSETVSE_7", "options": ["Some issues appear in every single address", "Every issue addressed shows up in more than one inaugural address", "You will also see all major issues of the time included", "You will sometimes see a major issue of the time not be addressed"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a feeling the author does not state you will feel from reading the addresses?", "question_unique_id": "20051_7QSETVSE_8", "options": ["Presence", "Pride", "Humility", "Ignorance"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20056", "set_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "Folie ?", "year": "1998", "author": "Jim Holt", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Folie ࠎ \n\n         People with high IQs tend to be nearsighted. This is not because they read a lot or stare at computer screens too much. That common-sense hypothesis has been discredited by research. Rather, it is a matter of genetics. The same genes that tend to elevate IQ also tend to affect the shape of the eyeball in a way that leads to myopia. This relationship--known in genetics as \"pleiotropy\"--seems to be completely accidental, a quirk of evolution. \n\n         Could there be a similar pleiotropy between madness and mathematics? Reading this absolutely fascinating biography by Sylvia Nasar, an economics writer for the New York Times , I began to wonder. Its subject, John Nash, is a mathematical genius who went crazy at the age of 30 and then, after several decades of flamboyant lunacy, was awarded the Nobel Prize in economics for something he had discovered as a graduate student. (He is now about to turn 70.) Nash is among the latest in a long and distinguished line of mathematicians--stretching back to that morbid paranoiac, Isaac Newton--who have been certifiably insane during parts of their lives. \n\n         Just in the last 100 years or so, most of the heroic figures in the foundations of mathematics have landed in mental asylums or have died by their own hand. The greatest of them, Kurt Gödel, starved himself to death in the belief that his colleagues were putting poison in his food. Of the two pioneers of game theory--the field in which Nash garnered his Nobel--one, Ernst Zermelo, was hospitalized for psychosis. The other, John Von Neumann, may not have been clinically insane, but he did serve as the real-life model for the title character in Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove . \n\n         So maybe there is an accidental, pleiotropic connection between madness and mathematics. Or maybe it isn't so accidental. Mathematicians are, after all, people who fancy that they commune with perfect Platonic objects--abstract spaces, infinite numbers, zeta functions--that are invisible to normal humans. They spend their days piecing together complicated, scrupulously logical tales about these hallucinatory entities, which they believe are vastly more important than anything in the actual world. Is this not a kind of a folie à n (where n equals the number of pure mathematicians worldwide)? \n\n          ABeautiful Mind reveals quite a lot about the psychic continuum leading from mathematical genius to madness. It is also a very peculiar redemption story: how three decades of raging schizophrenia, capped by an unexpected Nobel Prize, can transmute a cruel shit into a frail but decent human being. \n\n         As a boy growing up in the hills of West Virginia, Nash enjoyed torturing animals and building homemade bombs with two other unpopular youngsters, one of whom was accidentally killed by a blast. (Given Nash's childhood keenness for explosives and his later penchant for sending odd packages to prominent strangers through the mail, it's a wonder the FBI never got on to him as a Unabomber suspect.) He made his way to Carnegie Tech, where he was a classmate of Andy Warhol's, and thence to Princeton--the world capital of mathematics at the time--at the age of 20. \n\n         In sheer appearance, this cold and aloof Southerner stood out from his fellow math prodigies. A \"beautiful dark-haired young man,\" \"handsome as a god,\" he was 6 feet 1 inch tall, with broad shoulders, a heavily muscled chest (which he liked to show off with see-through Dacron shirts), a tapered waist, and \"rather limp and beautiful hands\" accentuated by long fingernails. Within two years of entering Princeton, Nash had framed and proved the most important proposition in the theory of games. \n\n          Mathematically, this was no big deal. Game theory was a somewhat fashionable pursuit for mathematicians in those postwar days, when it looked as if it might do for military science and economics what Newton's calculus had done for physics. But they were bored with it by the early 1950s. Economists, after a few decades of hesitation, picked it up in the '80s and made it a cornerstone of their discipline. \n\n          Agame is just a conflict situation with a bunch of participants, or \"players.\" The players could be poker pals, oligopolists competing to corner a market, or nuclear powers trying to dominate each other. Each player has several strategy options to choose from. What Nash showed was that in every such game there is what has become known as a \"Nash equilibrium\": a set of strategies, one for each player, such that no player can improve his situation by switching to a different strategy. His proof was elegant but slight. A game is guaranteed to have a Nash equilibrium, it turns out, for the same reason that in a cup of coffee that is being stirred, at least one coffee molecule must remain absolutely still. Both are direct consequences of a \"fixed-point theorem\" in the branch of mathematics known as topology. This theorem says that for any continuous rearrangement of a domain of things, there will necessarily exist at least one thing in that domain that will remain unchanged--the \"fixed point.\" Nash found a way of applying this to the domain of all game strategies so that the guaranteed fixed point was the equilibrium for the game--clever, but the earlier topological theorem did all the work. Still, for an economics theorem, that counts as profound. Economists have been known to win Nobel Prizes for rediscovering theorems in elementary calculus. \n\n         Nash's breakthrough in game theory got him recruited by the Rand Corp., which was then a secretive military think tank in Santa Monica (its name is an acronym for \"research and development\"). However, the achievement did not greatly impress his fellow mathematicians. To do that, Nash, on a wager, disposed of a deep problem that had baffled the profession since the 19 th century: He showed that any Riemannian manifold possessing a special kind of \"smoothness\" can be embedded in Euclidean space. Manifolds, one must understand, are fairly wild and exotic beasts in mathematics. A famous example is the Klein bottle, a kind of higher-dimensional Moebius strip whose inside is somehow the same as its outside. Euclidean space, by contrast, is orderly and bourgeois. To demonstrate that \"impossible\" manifolds could be coaxed into living in Euclidean space is counterintuitive and pretty exciting. Nash did this by constructing a bizarre set of inequalities that left his fellow mathematicians thoroughly befuddled. \n\n         That about marked the end of Nash's career as a mathematical genius. The next year, he was expelled from Rand as a security risk after local police caught him engaging in a lewd act in a public men's room near Muscle Beach. At MIT, where he had been given a teaching job, he hardly bothered with undergraduates and humiliated graduate students by solving their thesis problems. He carried on affairs with several men and a mistress, who bore him a son he refused to lift a finger to support. His cruel streak extended to the woman he married, a beautiful physics student named Alicia who was awed by this \"genius with a penis.\" Once, at a math department picnic, he threw her to the ground and put his foot on her throat. \n\n         All the while, Nash was showing an intense interest in the state of Israel--often a sign of incipient insanity, at least in a non-Jew. Geniuses slipping into madness also tend to disrobe in public (I learned this from a volume on chess prodigies, who have a proclivity for disrobing on public buses). Nash showed up for an MIT New Year's Eve party clad only in a diaper. And then, of course, there was the New York Times , that old mainstay of psychotic delusion--Nash thought aliens were sending him encrypted messages through its pages (come to think of it, that could explain the Times ' odd prose). \n\n          When the big breakdown came, it was properly mathematical. Fearing his powers might be waning as he approached 30, Nash decided he would solve the most important unresolved problem in mathematics: the Riemann Zeta conjecture. This bold guess about the solutions to a certain complex-valued infinite series (made by the incomparable Bernhard Riemann in 1859) would, if true, have far-reaching implications for the structure of the most basic of entities, the natural numbers. Before an eager audience of hundreds of mathematicians at Columbia University in 1959, Nash presented his results: a farrago of mathematical lunacy. \"Nash's talk wasn't good or bad,\" said one mathematician present. \"It was horrible.\" Some weeks before, Nash had declined a University of Chicago offer of an endowed chair on the grounds that he was scheduled to become the emperor of Antarctica. \n\n         Such ebullitions of insanity continued for three decades, becoming more rococo. Nash went to Europe to form a world government, attempting repeatedly to renounce his U.S. citizenship. He did stints in tony asylums, hanging out with Robert Lowell, and in dismal state institutions, where he was subjected daily to insulin-induced comas. He believed himself to be a Palestinian refugee called C.O.R.P.S.E.; a great Japanese shogun, C1423; Esau; the prince of peace; l'homme d'Or ; a mouse. As Nasar observes, his delusions were weirdly inconsistent. He felt himself simultaneously to be the epicenter of the universe--\"I am the left foot of God on earth\"--and an abject, persecuted petitioner. \n\n         He returned to the Princeton area in the 1970s, where he was taken care of by the long-suffering Alicia, now his ex-wife (she supported him partly through computer programming, partly on welfare). He haunted the campus, where students began to call him \"the Phantom.\" They would come to class in the morning to find runic messages he had written on the blackboard at night: \"Mao Tse-Tung's Bar Mitzvah was 13 years, 13 months, and 13 days after Brezhnev's circumcision.\" \n\n         Then, in the '90s, inexplicably, the voices in Nash's head began to quiet down. (Nasar gives an interesting account of just how rare such remissions are among those diagnosed with schizophrenia.) At the same time, the Nobel committee in Stockholm was deciding it was about time to award the prize in economics for game theory. Dare they make a known madman into a laureate? What might he say to King Gustav at the ceremony? Nasar shows her mettle as a reporter here by penetrating the veil of secrecy surrounding the Nobel and revealing the back-stage machinations for and against Nash's candidacy. He did fine at the ceremony, by the way. \n\n          Indeed, he has evolved into a \"very fine person,\" according to his ex-wife--humbled by years of psychotic helplessness, buoyed up by the intellectual world's highest accolade. The Nobel has a terrible effect on the productivity of many recipients, paralyzing them with greatness. For Nash it was pure therapy. Then, too, there is the need to take care of his son by Alicia, who--pleiotropically?--inherited both his mathematical promise and his madness. (His older son, the one born out of wedlock, got neither.) The Nobel money bought a new boiler for the little bungalow across from the Princeton train station inhabited by this shaky menage. (When Vanity Fair published an excerpt of A Beautiful Mind , Nash probably became the only person ever featured in that magazine to live in a house clad in \"insulbrick.\") \n\n         The eeriest thing I discovered while reading this superb book was that Nash and I came within a couple of years of crossing paths in a Virginia mental hospital. I was actually working there, but psychiatric aides pick up so many mannerisms of the patients that it's hard to tell the difference after a while. A few years after that I found myself in a mathematics Ph.D. program. You'll be glad to know that I'm in remission.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is true about the subject of the book the author read?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_1", "options": ["He was born crazy but accomplished a lot in life anyway", "He developed mental illness as an adult and never improved", "He pretended to be crazy as an excuse for poor behavior", "He developed mental illness as an adult but later improved"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the author view mathematicians?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_2", "options": ["They are more likely to be nearsighted ", "They only value abstract things", "They all hallucinate", "They are more likely to be crazy"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was not true about Nash's college years?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_3", "options": ["He went away to school", "He fit in well with the mathematical geniuses", "He was accomplished", "He liked to draw attention to himself"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is true about the Nobel prize, according to the author?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_4", "options": ["It is equally easy to win a prize in Economics or Math", "It is easier to win a prize in Economics than in Math", "Mathematicians never win prizes in Economics", "It is easier to win a prize in Math than in Economics"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is true about Nash?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_5", "options": ["Mathematicians were wowed by all of his work", "Mathematicians were wowed by his work at Rand Corporation", "Mathematicians were wowed by his manifold proof", "Mathematicians were wowed by his game theory proof"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was Nash distinguished as a professor?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_6", "options": ["He was known for erratic behavior", "He taught many students", "He helped graduate students solve problems", "He was the life of the party"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was one of Nash's delusions?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_7", "options": ["Being a refugee from Europe", "Being in a coma", "Being a father", "Being the leader of a continent"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why were they concerned about giving Nash the prize?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_8", "options": ["He had killed animals as a child", "He was in remission from illness", "He might offend the dignitaries", "He had not worked for very long yet"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did winning the prize impact Nash?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_9", "options": ["He changed into a kinder man", "He was paralyzed by it", "He moved into a new house", "He felt helpless"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the author feel about mathematicians?", "question_unique_id": "20056_H2CYR8K0_10", "options": ["They scare him", "He relates because he used to be one", "He's never been around them", "He's not interested in knowing more about them"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20044", "set_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "Diamonds in the Rough", "year": "1996", "author": "John Pastier", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Diamonds in the Rough \n\n         Fourscore and seven years ago, the first steel and concrete baseball palace opened for business. Philadelphia's Shibe Park, home to the Athletics and later the Phillies, was one of 13 urban ballparks built in the seven-year period now regarded as the golden age of ballpark architecture. All but three (Wrigley Field, Fenway Park, and Tiger Stadium) have since been razed. \n\n          Replacing parks built of wood, these ballyards set new standards for size, fire safety, intimacy, and convenience. As places to watch ballgames, they were vastly superior to the post-World War II parks, especially the facilities designed in the late '60s and '70s that doubled as football stadiums. But these concrete monsters, plopped into vast parking lots in Houston, Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Philadelphia, and elsewhere, lack the character of the classic parks. \n\n         Chicago's New Comiskey Park, which opened in 1991, attempted to address the character question with a superficial postmodern facade that in some ways resembled the exterior of the golden-era park it replaced. New Comiskey was marketed as an old-fashioned park with all the modern conveniences. But inside, it was still a symmetrical concrete monster, and it sat in the middle of a 7,000-car parking lot rather than in an urban neighborhood. \n\n         A year later, a new--yet more genuinely old--ballpark arrived to dispel the gloom. Baltimore's Oriole Park at Camden Yards revived the idea of a quirkily asymmetrical, relatively intimate, steel-structured, city-friendly ballpark. \"Once this opens,\" predicted Commissioner of Baseball Bart Giamatti, \"everyone will want one like it.\" And so it came to be: Camden Yards' successors in Cleveland, Arlington (Texas), and Denver, and those designed for Milwaukee, Seattle, and San Francisco, take their cues from Baltimore's conceptual breakthrough. Even totally nontraditional parks, like those in Phoenix, Miami, and Tampa Bay, emulate the asymmetry of the Camden Yards outfield. It's almost as though a disembodied voice intoned, \"If you build it, they will copy.\" \n\n         While Camden Yards and its offspring are almost universally praised, some of them don't deserve the hype. The most annoying hype is that all the new parks are intimate, and that every seat is better at the new place than the old. Intimacy has two aspects--actual size and the subjective perception of size and scale. A good architect can ace the second part of the test through convincing forms, good proportions, and attractive materials. The exposed steelwork, brick, stone, tile, and well-placed wall openings of the new parks beat the cold and sterile stadiums of a generation ago. \n\n         For the new parks' charms, we should be thankful. But in actual size, the new ballyards are not intimate. All their amenities--elevators, wider concourses, abundant toilets (especially for women), bathrooms, escalators, plentiful food stands, and luxury suites--make them far larger than the parks they claim to emulate. These parks are larger than even the multipurpose hulks we all love to hate. Compare, for instance, the spanking new Ballpark at Arlington (49,100 seats), which rests on 13.6 acres, to Seattle's Kingdome, a 58,000-seat multipurpose stadium that opened in 1976 and covers 9.3 acres. (Ebbets Field, home to the Brooklyn Dodgers, occupied a mere 5.7 acres and seated 32,000.) \n\n         Or compare heights: New Comiskey Park's roof is 146 feet above field level; old Comiskey Park was about 75 feet high. This is not ballpark trivia, but an indicator of fan experience: Upper-deck seats in the new, taller stadiums are farther away from the action. At Arlington, the fan sitting in the middle-row, upper-deck seat closest to home plate is 224 feet from the batter, compared to 125 feet at Tiger Stadium, a park with 4,300 more seats. \n\n         Why are upper-deck seats in the new parks so far from the game? Two reasons: column placement and luxury seating. \n\n         In the old parks, the structural columns stood within the seating areas, placing the upper-deck seats closer to the game. The trade-off was that these columns obstructed the view of some fans. Today's architects \"remedy\" the problem by placing the columns behind the seating areas, thus moving the upper decks back from the field. (It should be noted that the new parks' claim that they have no impaired-view seats is an overstatement.) \n\n         Added tiers devoted to luxury seating at the new parks also push the upper deck away from the field. The retreat of that deck is a century-long process, but it can be stemmed. The Orioles pressed for several design changes that lowered Camden Yards' top deck and produced a middle-row viewing distance of 199 feet, about eight rows closer than Arlington's. \n\n         Design references to golden-age ballparks are only one parallel between that period and ours. We are also matching that era's frenzied pace of construction: Twenty-six of Major League Baseball's 32 franchises occupy a park that is less than 10 years old; has been, or will be, extensively remodeled; or hope to move into a new one soon. \n\n         One of the classic parks' merits was that they were unsubsidized. Team owners bought land and paid for stadium construction--some even built trolley lines to transport fans to the games. In all but two cases during the last 65 years, taxpayers have covered most or all of the costs of stadium building. \n\n         The San Francisco Giants are planning a similar arrangement for their bayfront stadium, assembling about $240 million in private funds and persuading the city to pay for some of the infrastructure. The Giants say that other team owners are rooting against their scheme, because it calls into question the profligate public subsidies. Some of the subsidies exceed capital and maintenance costs: If the White Sox fail to draw 1.5 million annual fans at New Comiskey Park in the 11th through 20th years of their lease, the state of Illinois is contractually obliged to cover the shortfall at the gate by buying upto 300,000 tickets. \n\n         You'd expect that the public would get something, perhaps affordable seats, in return for subsidizing stadiums. Instead, the cheap seats in the new parks are scarcer. The Seattle Mariners' proposed park, for instance, will contain about one-fourth as many general-admission seats as the present location. This erosion of low-cost seats is a long-running trend. \n\n         So too is the dramatic increase in luxury seating, which is the primary real reason for the ballpark-building boom. The real gold mines are the posh luxury suites that lease for between $30,000 and $200,000 a year (payable in advance). A comparable moneymaker is the club deck, just above the first-tier seating. These pricey sections are occupied usually on a season-ticket basis, and offer the best sightlines, roomier seats, and wait staff who peddle gourmet fare. \n\n         The gilding doesn't end there: New parks also include members-only stadium clubs and on-premises bars and restaurants. \n\n          Naturally, owners don't advertise their new parks as a means of making life better for elite ticketholders. They say that only a new stadium will allow them to make enough money to stay in town or to field a competitive team and to allow fans to savor that old-time baseball flavor in greater comfort and convenience. Local taxpayers tend to lay off this pitch--they have voted these measures down in Illinois, Washington state, California, Wisconsin, and Michigan. Politically savvy owners usually bypass the voters and tap state governments directly for the money. \n\n         Larger and more lavish stadiums translate into greater land and construction costs. Operable roofs, such as those in Toronto's SkyDome, Phoenix's BankOne Ballpark, and those proposed for Seattle and Milwaukee, are budget-busters. Since most teams put up little (if any) of their own money, they have scant incentive to economize on the parks. In Seattle, Mariner management has demanded an operable roof even though the city has the driest weather in MLB outside California. The real problem with the Seattle climate is cold weather in spring and fall, but the unsealed roof won't make the park warmer or totally free of wind. \n\n         Lately, the cost of stadiums has ranged from about $300 million to $500 million. The multipurpose stadium that the Yankees want built on Manhattan's lower west side tentatively carries a $1 billion price tag. Add the financing and maintenance costs, and even a midpriced project goes through the retractable roof. At one point, the cost of the Brewers' proposed stadium grew from $250 million to $845 million, and that's not counting the value of the land. \n\n         The good news is that not every owner is demanding a castle for his team. All Pittsburgh Pirates owner Kevin McClatchy wants is a \"35,000-to-37,000-seat park with natural grass and no roof, bells, or whistles.\" Though his attitude is commendable, the proposed park will still cost about $200 million, and perhaps an equal amount in interest. \n\n         Why should the public chip in? Taxpayer subsidies don't produce cheaper tickets--they produce more expensive tickets. The average admission price (not counting club seats and suites) rises about 35 percent when a team moves into new digs. And independent economists (i.e., those not hired by stadium proponents) discount the claim that new stadiums spur regional economic growth. \n\n         But one compelling argument for subsidies is that new stadiums can pull their cities together when properly designed and sited. This requires a downtown or neighborhood location where lots of fans can take the bus or the train to the game; where they can walk to the stadium from work, hotels, restaurants, or bars; and where getting to the game is a communal event that is part of a broader urban experience. This is the case with older parks such as Wrigley Field and Fenway Park, and the new ones in Toronto, Baltimore, Cleveland, and Denver. \n\n         \"If you put them in the wrong place, it's a colossal waste of money,\" says the planning director of the city of Cleveland. \"But if you put them in the right place, the benefits are phenomenal,\" \n\n         Recent attendance patterns show that urban parks generate much better patronage than suburban ones or those in neither/nor locations. There are also strong indicators that suggest new urban parks have \"legs,\" retaining more of their patrons after the novelty wears off. But some teams deliberately seek isolated locations, where they can better monopolize parking revenues and game-related food, drink, and souvenir business. This is why the White Sox moated their park with 100 acres of parking, why the Milwaukee Brewers refuse to build downtown, and why the Mariners insisted on the most remote of Seattle's three ballpark-siting options. \n\n         Modern conveniences aside, the new baseball shrines are a mixed bag. Most are visually impressive, boast interestingly shaped playing fields, and start off as box-office hits. But too many of them are large and expensive, tend to live on the dole, and are hampered by seat layouts that create a caste system among fans. At their best, they strengthen their cities; at their worst, they exploit them. \n\n         The decision-making process behind the financing and building of new ballparks has become predictable, as have the designs. But the good news is that our stadium boom is far from over. If owners and public agencies can be persuaded to take a longer view of stadium economics and community concerns, we may yet see parks that better unite traditional character with modern convenience.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many of the golden era ballparks had already been torn down?", "question_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ_1", "options": ["13", "3", "1", "10"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the golden age parks compare to the older parks?", "question_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ_2", "options": ["The older ones were larger", "The newer ones were less hazardous", "The older ones were more intimate", "The newer ones had more character"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What makes the new ballparks intimate?", "question_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ_3", "options": ["The size of the land on which they are built", "Wood construction", "Architectural design", "Better amenities"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which is true?", "question_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ_4", "options": ["All newer ballparks have top-level seating closer to the field than ever", "Newer ballparks do not have upper deck seating", "All newer ballparks have top-level seating further away from the field than ever", "Some newer ballparks have top-level seating further away from the field than ever"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Choose the one best statement.", "question_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ_5", "options": ["A majority of teams either built new ballparks in the last decade or plan to build soon", "Almost no teams either built new ballparks in the last decade or plan to build soon", "All teams either built new ballparks in the last decade or plan to build soon", "Some teams either built new ballparks in the last decade or plan to build soon"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which is not true?", "question_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ_6", "options": ["Some ballparks are subsidized by taxpayers", "People get more affordable tickets because the ballpark is subsidized", "Some ballparks are built in urban locations", "Some team owners pay to build their own ballparks"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is something new parks have that old parks did not?", "question_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ_7", "options": ["food for purchase", "luxurious accommodations", "better location", "inexpensive seats"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why do owners want to build large ballparks?", "question_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ_8", "options": ["they want to increase the total number of seats", "they can afford it and don't need to budget", "they want to sell more expensive tickets to the rich", "they want to help bring an economic boom to the area"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship between team and fan desires?", "question_unique_id": "20044_EBV68EUZ_9", "options": ["Teams and fans both prefer urban ballpark locations", "Teams prefer urban ballpark locations while fans prefer more remote locations", "Teams and fans both prefer more remote ballpark locations", "Fans prefer urban ballpark locations while teams prefer more remote locations"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20031", "set_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": " My Father's Estate", "year": "1999", "author": "Ben Stein", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "My Father's Estate \n\n         A letter from an ill-mannered former high-school classmate of long ago, one of several like it, which I pass on in paraphrase: \"I saw that your father had died,\" she wrote. \"He was always so clever about money. Did he leave you a big estate? Did he figure out a way around the estate tax?\" It's a rude question, but it has an answer. \n\n         My sister and I have been going through my father's estate lately with his lawyer, and we're pawing through old, dusty files to find bank account numbers and rules for annuities, so maybe it's a good time to think about what my father, Herbert Stein, left to us. \n\n         He did indeed leave some money. By the standards we read about in the Wall Street Journal or Sports Illustrated , it was not worthy of much ink. In any event, because of the class-warfare-based death tax, the amount that will be left is vastly less than what he had saved. As an economist, my father was famous for defending taxes as a necessary evil. But even he was staggered, not long before his death, when he considered the taxes on his savings that would go to the Internal Revenue Service. \n\n         The nest egg is going to be taxed at a federal rate of about 55 percent, after an initial exemption and then a transition amount taxed at around 40 percent (and all that after paying estate expenses). When I think about it, I want to cry. My father and mother lived frugally all their lives. They never had a luxury car. They never flew first-class unless it was on the expense account. They never in their whole lives went on an expensive vacation. When he last went into the hospital, my father was still wearing an old pair of gray wool slacks with a sewed-up hole in them from where my dog ripped them--15 years ago. \n\n         They never had live-in help. My father washed the dishes after my mother made the meatloaf. My father took the bus whenever he could. His only large expenditure in his and my mom's whole lives was to pay for schools for his children and grandchildren. He never bought bottled, imported water; he said whatever came out of the tap was good enough for him. They still used bargain-basement furniture from before the war for their bedroom furniture and their couch. I never once knew them to order the most expensive thing in a restaurant, and they always took the leftovers home. \n\n         They made not one penny of it from stock options or golden parachutes. They made it all by depriving themselves in the name of thrift and prudence and preparing for the needs of posterity. To think that this abstemiousness and this display of virtue will primarily benefit the IRS is really just so galling I can hardly stand it. The only possible reason for it is to satisfy some urge of jealousy by people who were less self-disciplined. \n\n         There are a few material, tangible items that an assessor will have to come in to appraise. There are my father's books, from his days at Williams College and the University of Chicago, many of them still neatly underlined and annotated in his handwriting, which did not change from 1931 until days before his death. Most of them are about economics, but some are poetry. \n\n         That's another item my father left: his own poetry and his massive prose writings. Very little of it is about anything at all abstruse. There are no formulas and no graphs or charts, except from his very last years. There are many essays about how much he missed my mom when she died, about how much he loved the sights of Washington, about how dismaying it was that there was still so much confusion about basic issues in economics. And there are his satires of haiku about public policy, his takeoffs on Wordsworth and Shakespeare, often composed for a friend's birthday, then sometimes later published. I suppose there will not be much tax on these because my father was hardly a writer for the large audience. \n\n         Some of them will go to the Nixon Library, and some will be on bookshelves in the (very small and modest) house my wife and I own in Malibu, a place he found beguiling because he had always wanted to live by the ocean and write. And there are his furniture and his clothes, none of which has any value at all except to me because they remind me of him and because, when I stand near them in his closet, I can still smell his smell of hair and skin and leather shoes, the closet smelling a lot like he smelled when he came home from work in 1954 carrying a newspaper that said there could be no more racial segregation in schools. And there are his mementos of Richard Nixon, his White House cufflinks, photos of Camp David, certificates and honorary degrees, and clippings of great events of state. And there are his love letters to and from my mother when they were courting in 1935 and 1936, still tied with light blue ribbon in what was my mother's lingerie drawer, talking about their love triumphing over the dangers of the Depression. I suppose we'll have to place a value on these and have them taxed, too. \n\n         But these are the trivia of what he left me and my sister. The really valuable estate cannot be touched by the death tax. The man's legacy to his family has almost nothing to do with anything that can be appraised in dollars and cents. \n\n         The example of loyalty and principle: When he had just taken over as the chairman of President Nixon's Council of Economic Advisers, he hired a young staff economist named Ron Hoffman (brother of Dustin Hoffman). Almost immediately, John Dean, then White House counsel, came to see my father to tell him that he had to fire Hoffman. Apparently, Ron Hoffman had signed a public anti-war letter. The FBI, or whoever, said that showed he was not loyal and not qualified. My father said that this was a free country, that Ron Hoffman was hired as an economist not as a political flack for RN, and that he would not be fired because he disagreed with some aspect of Nixon policy. After much worrying, Hoffman was allowed to stay--and performed well. \n\n         My father was loyal, and the IRS cannot impound that legacy. When RN ran into every kind of problem after June of 1972, most of which were unearned and a chunk of which was earned, my father never thought of disavowing him or even distancing himself from Nixon. Even though he had an appointment to the University of Virginia in his pocket, Pop several times extended his stay at the White House to help out with the struggles over inflation and recession, and never once publicly said a word against Nixon. \n\n         Long after, when Nixon was blasted as an anti-Semite, my father told in print and in person of the Nixon he knew: kind; concerned about all on his staff, regardless of ethnicity; pro-Israel; pro-Jewish in every important cause. My father would never turn his back on a man who had been as conscientious to the cause of peace and as kind to the Stein family as RN had been. \n\n         \"Loyalty.\" There is no item for it in the inventory of estate assets to be taxed. \n\n         My father lived his life, especially in the latter years of it, in a haze of appreciation. Whatever small faults he could and did find with America, he endlessly reminded anyone who listened that the best achievement of mankind was America, whose current failings were trivial by historic standards, which was in a constant process of amelioration, and which offered its citizens the best chance in history for a good life. \n\n         When he did consider the failures of American life in the past, especially institutionalized racism, he did so to note the astonishing progress that had been made in his lifetime. He had no use for those who held up a mirror of fault-finding from the left or the right when he could see in his own era what vast improvements in freedom had been made for blacks, Jews, women, Asians, Hispanics, and every other minority. \n\n         He appreciated art, especially ballet and opera. He sat for hours in front of the television watching videos of Romeo and Juliet or Les Sylphides or Tosca . He lived to go to the Kennedy Center to see great ballet or opera, and he talked of it endlessly. But he also appreciated art in the form of obscure fountains in front of federal buildings, of the statues of Bolívar and George Washington and San Martin. He appreciated the intricate moldings on the ceiling of the second floor of the Cosmos Club. He was in awe of the beauty of the mighty Potomac in fall and of the rolling green hunt country around Middleburg and The Plains, Va., in summer. \n\n         This quality of gratitude for America and for the beauty of life cannot be taxed, at least not so far. \n\n         He appreciated his friends and did not differentiate between them on the basis of fame or position. He took the words of his longtime pal Murray Foss at the American Enterprise Institute, a think tank where he hung his hat for many years, into account; and the words of Mrs. Wiggins, who ran the cafeteria at the AEI; and the thoughts of Alan Greenspan or the head of Goldman, Sachs; and valued them entirely on their merits to him, not on the basis of how much press or money the speaker had. He never once in my lifetime's recall said that any man or woman deserved special respect for riches--in fact, like Adam Smith, he believed that the pleadings of the rich merited special suspicion. He did not believe that my sister or I should devote our lives to the pursuit of money, and by his life set an example to us of pursuing only what was interesting and challenging, not what paid the most. I never knew him to chase a deal or a job (he never in his whole life applied for a job!) for any other reason except that it was of interest to him. He derived more pleasure from speaking to his pals at the book club of the Cosmos Club about John Keats than he did from giving speeches to trade associations that paid him handsomely. \n\n         My father's stance against seeking money for its own sake--so wildly unsuited to today's age, but so reassuring to his children--cannot be taken by the Treasury. \n\n         Pop had a way of putting what I thought of as catastrophes into their rightful context. If I was hysterical about losing some scriptwriting job, my father would brush it aside as a basic risk, part of the life I had chosen. If my stocks went down, even dramatically, my father would explain that if I had a roof over my head and enough to eat, I was far, far ahead of the game. Most reassuring, my father would tell me that my family and I could always come to Washington, D.C., and live quietly, keeping him company, for which not a lot of money was required. (My father lived on a fraction of the income from his savings, even allowing for paying for his grandchildren's education.) \n\n         Once, about 25 years ago, when my boss treated me unfairly, my father said that if it happened again, I should quit and he would take care of me until I found a job. I never needed to do it, but the offer hung in my mind as a last refuge forever. \n\n         This reassurance--that somehow things will be all right, that there is a lot of ruin in a man, as well as in a nation, to paraphrase his idol, Adam Smith--has become part of me, and I can still summon it up when I am terrified because of a huge quarterly tax payment due or a bad day on the market. Again, the IRS taxes it at zero. \n\n         My father himself, as far as I know, inherited no money at all from his father. He did inherit a belief that hard work would solve most problems, that spending beyond one's means was a recipe for disaster, that flashy showoff behavior with borrowed money was understandable but foolish. He did inherit enough common sense to tell his son that buying property he would never live in was probably a bad mistake. (He rarely spoke in moral absolutes. He believed instead that humans could and would make individual choices but that there were surely consequences to those choices that could be considered.) He passed these beliefs on to me, although they have become somewhat attenuated by my 20-plus years in the fleshpots of Hollywood. Still, I am one of the only men I know here who has never been drastically short of money (so far), and that I attribute to hearing his rules of prudence. \n\n         Most of all, my father believed in loving and appreciating those persons close to him. He stayed close to all his pals from the Nixon days (and would not hear personal criticism of Pat Buchanan, who had been a friend and colleague, although he was bewildered by Pat's stands on many issues). He basked in the pleasure of the company of his colleagues and friends at the American Enterprise Institute, which he thought of as one of his three homes--the Cosmos Club and his extremely modest but well-situated apartment at the Watergate were the others. \n\n         He could form attachments readily. Even in his last days in the hospital, he took a liking to a Ukrainian-born doctor and used to refer to him as \"Suvorov,\" after the Russian general written of glowingly in War and Peace-- which still sits on the table next to his reading chair, with his notes on little pieces of paper in it. \n\n         He grieved like a banshee when my mother died in 1997 and never really got over the loss of a soul mate of 61 years, who literally dreamed the same dreams he did. Once, he wrote my mother a poem (which he called \"Route 29\") about the beauty of Route 29 north of Charlottesville, Va., and the pleasure of riding along it with my mom. He filed it away for further work and never touched it again. The day after my mother's death, he found it--with her reply poem telling of how she hoped to never see those hills and those clouds and those cattle with anyone else but Pop. She had written her poem (which she titled \"Only You\") and put it back in the file without ever telling him. He survived that terrible loss with the help of a beautiful widow, whom he also came to appreciate and live for. He probably spent more time trying to help her with an annuity problem than he ever did on any financial feature of his own life. A simple call from her inviting him to dinner in her kitchen on Kalorama Circle was enough to make his life complete. \n\n         Even in his hospital bed, hearing my son's voice on the phone could make him smile through the fear and the pain. (\"He sounds so sweet when he calls me 'Grandpa,' \" my father said, beaming even with tubes in him.) \n\n         Never once did my sister or I ever ask him for help that he hesitated, let alone declined, to give. Usually this was some research we were too lazy to do, but which he did without any resistance at all. When I was a child and had a chore like leaf raking that I didn't want to do, his simple answer was to say, \"Let's do it together. It'll take half as long.\" I use that with my son almost every day, along with the devotion, and my father's example about his friends from long ago to make my life work. He stayed close with friends from Williams College Class of '35, especially Richard Helms of the CIA. He had lunch with one of his pals from Williams, Johnny Davis, class of '33, who got him a job as a dishwasher at Sigma Chi, days before he went into the hospital. \n\n         This quality of devotion and the rewards I get from it are worth far more than any stocks or bonds in my father's estate--and cannot be taken away at the marginal rate of 55 percent. Plus, I can pass it on to my son without any generation-skipping surcharge. \n\n         And he left something else of perhaps even greater value: a good name. Many people quarreled with my father's ideas about taxes or about when to balance the budget. He faced frequent opposition to his belief in a large defense budget. Of course, most of the people he knew disagreed with him about RN. But no one ever questioned that he came by his views honestly, by means of research and analysis and sometimes sentiment, but not for any venal reason or by the process of money changing hands. His reputation for honesty was simply without a speck of question upon it. \n\n         This good name cannot be taxed at all, at least not right now. My sister and I and our children will have it for as long as we keep it clean. It's priceless, incalculable in value. \n\n         So, in answer to the query from the forward high-school classmate, \"Yes, my father did leave an immense estate, and yes, he did manage to beat the estate tax.\" The only problem is that I miss him every single minute, and I already had the best parts of the estate without his being gone, so the death part is pure loss.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did the author say his father had left him a big estate?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_1", "options": ["Because he did leave a large amount before taxes", "Because his father lived frugally and saved a little", "Because he only has 1 sibling to share the inheritance", "Because of the intangible things his father left him"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author feel like crying?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_2", "options": ["He hasn't been frugal and needs the money", "The IRS taxes the rich so steeply", "His father carefully saved and now it is going to someone else", "He misses his father"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the author discuss his father's clothing and mementos?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_3", "options": ["They are things he wants to sell", "They will have to be valued and taxed", "They are the biggest part of the estate", "They are nostalgic to him"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What best describes the author's father?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_4", "options": ["He was equally loyal to his employees and employers", "He thought loyalty was impossible when working in politics", "He was loyal to his employer at the expense of his employees", "He was loyal to his employees at the expense of his employer"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the author's father feel about the USA?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_5", "options": ["He focused mainly on how far it had come", "He was constantly criticizing its faults", "He thought it was equal among many nations", "He focused mainly on how far it had left to go"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the author's father decide where to work?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_6", "options": ["He took whatever job he could apply for", "He took the job that would give him the most fame", "He took the best paying job he could find", "He took the job he was most passionate about"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the author's father deal with setbacks in life?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_7", "options": ["He changed his perspective", "He became hysterical", "He became stingy", "He quit his job"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What has impacted the author's more recent decisions in life?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_8", "options": ["His father's advice and peer pressure", "Only peer pressure", "His father's advice, peer pressure, and desire for fame", "Only his father's advice"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the author's father always assist him when he asked?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_9", "options": ["He knew he asked because he wanted his father to feel needed", "He knew he wasn't capable on his own", "He knew he was lazy", "He wanted him to feel supported"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the author wish he did not have his father's estate?", "question_unique_id": "20031_HFEBGS1A_10", "options": ["It is stressful working with the lawyer's and paperwork", "He would rather he were still alive", "It is annoying having people ask him questions about it", "The IRS is taxing it at a high rate"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20029", "set_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "Edward W. Said", "year": "1999", "author": "A.O. Scott", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Edward W. Said \n\n         The game of biographical \"gotcha\" is a perennially popular form of ideological blood sport. The goal is to find an incriminating datum that will leave a permanent stain on the target's reputation, make his defenders look like craven apologists, and give the general public a ready-made judgment that can be wielded without too much reading or thought. If the anti-communism of George Orwell or Arthur Koestler bugs you, you can point to recent allegations that the former was a snitch and the latter a rapist. If you resent the fact that your college professors forced you to read I, Rigoberta Menchú , you can rejoice in the discovery that she embellished some important details of her life story. Didn't Karl Marx beat his wife? And what about Freud's thing for his sister-in-law and his taste for cocaine? \n\n         To this list now add Columbia literature professor Edward W. Said, the subject of a fiercely debated article in the September issue of Commentary . The article, by American-born Israeli legal scholar Justus Reid Weiner, contends that Said, who was born in Jerusalem to a Christian Arab family in 1935, has over the years deliberately obscured some facts about his early life, and amplified others, in order to create the impression that he was, of all things, Palestinian. \n\n         Not so fast, says Weiner: Said's childhood was not \"the parable of Palestinian identity\" marked by dispossession from a beloved homeland and the subsequent pain of exile. Instead, Said \"grew up not in Jerusalem but in Cairo, where his father, an American citizen, had moved as an economic expatriate approximately nine years before Edward's birth and had become the owner of a thriving business; and there, until his own departure for the United States as a teenager in 1951, the young Edward Said resided in luxurious apartments, attended private English schools, and played tennis at the exclusive Gezira Sporting Club as the child of one of its few Arab members.\" \n\n         A similar account of Edward Said's youth can be found in a new book called Out of Place , the author of which is Edward Said. The book, Said's 17 th , is a wrenching, intimate account of growing up in Cairo's wealthy Levantine expatriate community, of summering in the dreary Lebanese resort town of Dhour el Shweir, and of visiting the family home in Jerusalem, sometimes for as long as several months. Weiner claims that the memoir is an elaborate sleight of hand and speculates that Said decided to \"spin\" the story of his past--by telling the truth about it--when he heard about Weiner's inquiries. In the weeks since his essay appeared, Weiner's motives, methods, and assertions have been roundly attacked by Said and his friends, and Weiner has made some attempt at clarification. (Click for a recap of the controversy and links to relevant articles, or click here for my review of Out of Place .) \n\n         Just who is Edward Said that his family's real estate holdings and his grammar school records rate 7,000 words in Commentary , not to mention three years of research by a scholar in residence at the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs? Followers of Middle East politics, as well as viewers of the NewsHour With Jim Lehrer , where Said often appears, know him as an eloquent spokesman for the Palestinian cause. Readers of The Nation know him as a formidable reviewer of opera and classical music. Several generations of graduate students in a number of disciplines know him as the author of Orientalism . The 30,000 literary scholars who make up the membership of the Modern Language Association--minus one who resigned in protest earlier this year over Said's election--know him as Mr. President. Readers of Al-Hayat , a London-based Arabic-language newspaper, and Al-Ahram , a Cairo weekly, know him as a regular commentator on politics and culture. Each of these identities--political activist, literary scholar, university professor, public intellectual--are, in Said's case, inordinately complex in and of themselves. The tensions between them--between intellectual, aesthetic, and political impulses that are felt with enormous passion and expressed with great vehemence--make Said an uncommonly interesting, and endlessly controversial, intellectual figure. \n\n         Most controversial--and most misunderstood--has been Said's involvement in Palestinian affairs. He has published half a dozen books on the plight of the Palestinians, including The Question of Palestine (1979), After the Last Sky (1986), and Peace and Its Discontents (1995), a scathing critique of the Oslo peace accords, which Said calls \"the Palestinian Versailles.\" These writings, his relationship with PLO Chairman Yasser Arafat, and his many years of service in the Palestine National Council (the now-defunct Palestinian parliament in exile, from which he resigned in 1991 after being diagnosed with leukemia) have invited smears and misrepresentations: A decade ago Commentary branded him \"The Professor of Terror.\" New York magazine once called him \"Arafat's man in New York.\" And he showed up last spring, unnamed, in The                 New Yorker 's special \"Money\" issue as a well-dressed Columbia don rumored to be \"on the payroll of the PLO.\" \n\n         Until very recently, Said has been an insistent voice for Palestinian statehood: He helped to draft the PLO's \"Algiers Declaration\" of 1988, which linked this aspiration to the recognition of Israel's right to exist. Over the years, he has often said that his own place in such a state would be as its toughest critic. Even as he has been unsparing in his indictments of Israeli and American policy, he has not let Arab governments--or the Palestinian leadership--off the hook. He has assailed the corrupt, authoritarian regimes that rule most of the Arab world, punctured the ideological phantasms of Pan-Arabist nationalism and reactionary Islam alike, and bemoaned the impoverished state of Arab cultural and intellectual life. He has also, within the Palestinian camp, been a consistent advocate of reconciliation with Israel and an opponent of terrorism. The Question of Palestine called for a \"two-state solution\" at a time when the official PLO ambition was total control over British Mandatory Palestine. The book, published in Israel in 1981, had, as of the mid-'90s, never been translated into Arabic or published in any Arab country. \n\n         In 1978, in the wake of the Camp David accords, Said delivered a message from Secretary of State Cyrus Vance to one of Arafat's top aides indicating that the United States would recognize the PLO as a legitimate party to peace talks in exchange for recognition of Israel. Arafat ignored the message. Fifteen years later, when Arafat and Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin shook hands on the White House lawn, Said, who had been invited to the event by its patron, Bill Clinton, stayed home. Since then, as bien-pensant American opinion has embraced the \"peace process,\" Said has bemoaned Arafat's \"capitulation\" and grown increasingly disgusted with the chairman's dictatorial rule over a few scraps of occupied territory and with Israel's continued expropriation of Palestinian lands. In the New York Times Magazine last spring, he wrote that the Palestinian state toward which the peace process seemed, however pokily, to be tending could not provide democracy and justice for the Palestinians. Instead, he called for a single, \"bi-national\" state based on a constitution (something neither Israel nor the areas controlled by the Palestinian Authority currently has), with \"the idea and practice of citizenship, not of ethnic or racial community, as the main vehicle for coexistence.\" \n\n         But to treat Said solely, or even primarily, as a political figure is necessarily to produce a distorted view of his life. He is, first and foremost, a literary critic, who wrote his Ph.D. at Harvard--on Joseph Conrad, a lifelong obsession--under Harry Levin, one of the champions of a comparative approach to literary study. Said's subsequent work has retained much of the expansive spirit and rigorous methodology of Levin's teachings. Beginnings: Intention and Method , the book which made Said's academic reputation, is a bulky study of how novels begin, carried out through painstakingly close formal analysis and displaying crushing erudition. \n\n         But Said's fame outside the American academy rests on Orientalism , his sweeping account of how Western art, literature, and scholarship have produced a deformed, biased picture of Arab and Muslim culture in the service of colonial domination. The impact of Orientalism far exceeded its subject, vast though that was. In addition to laying the groundwork for \"post-colonial\" studies as an area of inquiry, the book inspired a flurry of scholarship devoted to \"the other\"--to groups of people who, by virtue of race, gender, sexuality, or geographical location, are unable to represent themselves and so (to echo the line from Karl Marx that serves as the book's epigraph) \"must be represented\" by those more powerful. And Orientalism , with its harsh critiques of European philology and American social science, contributed to an epistemological shift in the American academy: Traditional disciplines were no longer to be taken for granted as the vehicles of objective knowledge but themselves became the objects of ideological analysis. \n\n         Both Said's methods and his substantive claims have come under attack. Because his theoretical debt to Michel Foucault and his unabashedly political intentions marked him as an avatar of the emerging academic left, a lot of the criticism came from traditional scholars. In the New York Review of Books , for example, the Princeton historian Bernard Lewis, one of the chief modern villains of Orientalism , decried Said's inflammatory tone and questioned his knowledge of history, philology, and Arabic. (To read Lewis' piece, click here. For Said's angry response, click here.) But the most sustained assault on Orientalism 's premises, and on its prestige, came from the left. In a book called In Theory --a wholesale slaughter of the sacred cows of the postmodern Western intelligentsia--the Indian Marxist literary critic Aijaz Ahmad raised further questions about Said's mastery of his sources and accused him of self-aggrandizement and insufficient political discipline. Whereas Lewis attacks Said for trashing the norms and values of traditional scholarship, Ahmad rebukes him for hewing too closely to them. And while Lewis believes Said to be motivated by a crude anti-Western leftist animus, Ahmad finds him altogether too enamored of the canons of European literature and avers that Said possesses \"a very conservative mind, essentially Tory in its structure.\" \n\n         Lewis and Ahmad are both right. Orientalism and its even more ambitious sequel Culture and Imperialism are works of passionate, almost agonized ambivalence. To read them is to encounter a mind at war with itself and the world (and ready to go to war with his critics, as any number of exchanges over the past quarter-century will show). Said's evident love of the literature and music of the West continually collides with his righteous anger at what the West has done to the rest. His desire to use literary criticism as a weapon on the side of the oppressed sits athwart the pleasure he takes in letting his mind play over the meaning in a novel or a poem. The results are books at once exhausting in their detail and maddening in their omissions, uneven in tone, overreaching and underargued. \"He is easily distracted\" the critic John Leonard remarked in an appreciative review of Culture and Imperialism , \"answering too many fire alarms, sometimes to pour on more petrol.\" \n\n         O rientalism and Culture and Imperialism are unquestionably incendiary, but they are also permanent and exemplary works of late-20 th -century criticism, in no small part because they invite so much argument, because for all the intellectual authority they project they remain open, vulnerable, provisional. And they also fulfill the basic mandate of literary analysis, which is to illuminate the works they discuss: To return to Verdi's Aida , Conrad's Heart of Darkness , or Kipling's Kim after reading Said on them is to find them richer, stranger, and more complicated than you had ever imagined. \n\n         More than anyone else in his generation, Edward Said has sought to embody an unfashionable, perhaps obsolescent idea of the intellectual--immersed in culture and committed to politics, placing \"criticism over solidarity,\" speaking truth to power, and steering clear of gods that fail. There was a time when this idea flourished more widely--even in the pages of Commentary .\n", "questions": [{"question": "Where did Edward grow up?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_1", "options": ["First Jerusalem, then Lebanon, then Cairo", "First Jerusalem, then Cairo, then the US", "First Cairo, then the US", "First Jerusalem, then the US"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Edward decide to tell the truth about his childhood?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_2", "options": ["To create the impression he was Palestinian", "To gain sympathy for living in exile", "To get it out there in his own words before someone else could", "To make a lot of money"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is true about Edward's writings?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_3", "options": ["He often writes about the arts", "He writes solely about the Palestinian cause", "His writing is concise", "He researched his book for 3 years"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Edward feel about the Arab-Israeli conflict?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_4", "options": ["He never criticizes the Palestinians", "He is pro-Arab but still criticizes their shortcomings", "He supports Israel wholeheartedly", "He supports all the Arabs wholeheartedly"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is a role that Edward does not play?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_5", "options": ["Activist", "Critic", "Academic", "Politician"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a theme of Edward's best-known book?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_6", "options": ["China will rule the world", "The East looks down on the West", "Our view of the East is skewed", "Palestine should have its own state"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is a criticism that has not been said about Edward's best-known book?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_7", "options": ["It was too exhaustively researched", "It was written with political intentions", "It was written from a liberal anti-West perspective", "It was written for egotistical reasons"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author feel about Edward's books?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_8", "options": ["They are not worth reading", "They are enlightening", "They are of too conservative a mind", "They are not well-researched"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who disliked Edward's work?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_9", "options": ["Only liberal scholars", "Some historians", "Only conservative scholars", "Almost everyone liked it"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why do people like to find out new data about famous people?", "question_unique_id": "20029_8FG4YEDB_10", "options": ["It requires a lot of thought", "It makes them feel better about themselves", "It makes them like the people even more", "They are obsessed fans"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, 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{"article_id": "20027", "set_unique_id": "20027_2RUIA5TI", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "Booze You Can Use", "year": "1999", "author": "James Fallows", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Booze You Can Use \n\n         I love beer, but lately I've been wondering: Am I getting full value for my beer dollar? As I've stocked up on microbrews and fancy imports, I've told myself that their taste is deeper, richer, more complicated, more compelling--and therefore worth the 50 percent to 200 percent premium they command over cheap mass products or even mainstream Bud. And yet, I've started to wonder, is this just costly snobbery? If I didn't know what I was drinking, could I even tell whether it was something from Belgium, vs. something from Pabst? \n\n         I'm afraid we'll never know the answer to that exact question, since I'm not brave enough to expose my own taste to a real test. But I'm brave enough to expose my friends'. This summer, while working at Microsoft, I put out a call for volunteers for a \"science of beer\" experiment. Testing candidates had to meet two criteria: 1) they had to like beer; and 2) they had to think they knew the difference between mass products and high-end microbrews. \n\n         Twelve tasters were selected, mainly on the basis of essays detailing their background with beer. A few were selected because they had been bosses in the Microsoft department where I worked. All were software managers or developers ; all were male, but I repeat myself. Nearly half had grown up outside the United States or lived abroad for enough years to speak haughtily about American macrobrews. Most tasters came in talking big about the refinement of their palates. When they entered the laboratory (which mere moments before had been a Microsoft conference room), they discovered an experiment set up on the following lines: \n\n         1 Philosophy                : The experiment was designed to take place in two separate sessions. The first session, whose results are revealed here, involved beers exclusively from the lager group. Lagers are the light-colored, relatively lightly flavored brews that make up most of the vattage of beer consumption in the United States. Imported lagers include Foster's, Corona, and Heineken. Budweiser is a lager; so are Coors, Miller, most light beers, and most bargain-basement beers. \n\n         Beer snobs sneer at lagers, because they look so watery and because so many bad beers are in the group. But the lager test came first, for two reasons. One, lagers pose the only honest test of the ability to tell expensive from dirt-cheap beers. There are very few inexpensive nut brown ales, India pale ales, extra special bitters, or other fancy-pantsy, microbrew-style, nonlager drinks. So if you want to see whether people can taste a money difference among beers of the same type, you've got to go lager. Two, the ideal of public service requires lager coverage. This is what most people drink, so new findings about lager quality could do the greatest good for the greatest number. \n\n         In the second stage of the experiment, held several weeks later, the same testers reassembled to try the fancier beers. The results of that tasting will be reported separately, once Microsoft's mighty Windows 2000-powered central computers have . \n\n         2 Materials                : Ten lagers were selected for testing, representing three distinct price-and-quality groups. Through the magic of the market, it turns out that lager prices nearly all fall into one of three ranges: \n\n         a) High end at $1.50 to $1.60 per pint. (\"Per pint\" was the unit-pricing measure at the Safeway in Bellevue, Wash., that was the standard supply source for the experiment. There are 4.5 pints per six pack, so the high-end price point is around $7 per six pack.) \n\n         b) Middle at around 80 cents per pint, or under $4 per six pack. \n\n         c) Low at 50 cents to 55 cents per pint, or under $3 per six pack. \n\n         The neat 6:3:2 mathematical relationship among the price groups should be noted. The high-end beers cost roughly three times as much as the cheapest ones, and twice as much as the middle range. The beers used in the experiment were as follows: \n\n                         High End              \n\n                         Grolsch. Import lager (Holland). $1.67 per pint. (See an important .) Chosen for the test because of its beer-snob chic; also, one of my favorite beers. \n\n                         Heineken. Import lager (Holland). $1.53 per pint. (Sale price. List price was $1.71 per pint.) Chosen because it is America's long-standing most popular import. \n\n                         Pete's Wicked Lager. National-scale \"microbrew.\" $1.11 per pint. (Deep-discount sale. List price $1.46 per pint.) Like the next one, this put us into the gray zone for a lager test. Few American \"microbreweries\" produce lagers of any sort. Pete's is called a lager but was visibly darker than, say, Bud. \n\n                         Samuel Adams Boston Lager. National macro-microbrew. $1.56 per pint. (That was list price. The following week it was on sale for $1.25 per pint, which would have made it do far better in the value rankings.) Calls itself America's Best Beer. Has dark orangey-amber color that was obviously different from all other lagers tested. \n\n                         Mid-Range              \n\n                         Budweiser. $.84 per pint. (Sale. List price $.89 per pint.) Self-styled King of Beers. \n\n                         Miller Genuine Draft. $.84 per pint. (Sale. List price $.89 per pint.) \n\n                         Coors Light. $.84 per pint. (Sale. List price $.89 per pint. Isn't price competition a wonderful thing?) The Silver Bullet That Won't Slow You Down. \n\n                         Cheap              \n\n                         Milwaukee's Best. $.55 per pint. (Sale. List price $.62 per pint.) A k a \"Beast.\" \n\n                         Schmidt's. $.54 per pint. (Sale. List $.62 per pint.) Box decorated with a nice painting of a trout. \n\n                         Busch. $.50 per pint. (Sale. List $.69 per pint.) Painting of mountains. \n\n         The Safeway that supplied the beers didn't carry any true bargain-basement products, such as \"Red, White, and Blue,\" \"Old German,\" or the one with generic printing that just says \"Beer.\" The experiment was incomplete in that regard, but no tester complained about a shortage of bad beer. Also, with heavy heart, the test administrator decided to leave malt liquors, such as Mickey's (with its trademark wide-mouth bottles), off the list. They have the air of cheapness but actually cost more than Bud, probably because they offer more alcohol per pint. \n\n         3 Experimental                 procedure: Each taster sat down before an array of 10 plastic cups labeled A through J. The A-to-J coding scheme was the same for all tasters. Each cup held 3 ounces of one of the sample beers. (Total intake, for a taster who drank all of every sample: 30 ounces, or two and a half normal beers. Not lethal; also, they were just going back to software coding when they were done.) Saltines were available to cleanse the palate. The cups were red opaque plastic, so tasters could judge the beer's color only from above. There was no time limit for the tasting, apart from the two-hour limit in which we had reserved the conference room. One experimenter (the boss of most of the others there) rushed through his rankings in 10 minutes and gave the lowest overall scores. The taster who took the longest, nearly the full two hours, had the ratings that came closest to the relative price of the beers. (This man grew up in Russia.) The experimenters were asked not to compare impressions until the test was over. \n\n         After tasting the beers, each taster rated beers A through J on the following standards: \n\n                         Overall quality points: Zero to 100, zero as undrinkable and 100 as dream beer. Purely subjective measure of how well each taster liked each beer. \n\n                         Price category: The tasters knew that each beer came from the expensive, medium, or cheap category--and they had to guess where A through J belonged. A rating of 3 was most expensive, 2 for average, 1 for cheap. \n\n                         Description: \"Amusing presumption,\" \"fresh on the palate,\" \"crap,\" etc. \n\n                         Best and Worst: Tasters chose one Best and one Worst from the \"flight\" (as they would call it if this were a wine test). \n\n         When the session was over, results for each beer were collected in a grid like this: \n\n           \n\n         To see all the grids for all the beers, click . \n\n         4 Data                 Analysis: The ratings led to four ways to assess the quality of the beers. \n\n                         1. Best and Worst. Least scientific, yet clearest cut in its results. Eleven tasters named a favorite beer. Ten of them chose Sam Adams . The other one chose Busch , the cheapest of all beers in the sample. (The taster who made this choice advises Microsoft on what new features should go into the next version of Word.) Busch was the only beer to receive both a Best and a Worst vote. \n\n         Bottom rankings were also clear. Of the 11 naming a Worst beer, five chose Grolsch , the most expensive beer in the survey. Results by best/worst preference: \n\n           \n\n                         2. Overall                 preference points                . This was a subtler and more illuminating look at similar trends. The beers were ranked on \"corrected average preference points\"--an average of the zero-to-100 points assigned by each taster, corrected, just like ice skating scores, by throwing out the highest and lowest score each beer received. The tasters used widely varying scales--one confining all beers to the range between zero and 30, another giving 67 as his lowest mark. But the power of our corrected ranking system surmounted such difficulties to provide these results: \n\n           \n\n         Here again one costly beer-- Sam Adams --shows up well, while another, Grolsch , continues to struggle, but not as badly as the medium-price Miller Genuine Draft . Sam's success could reflect its quasi-mislabeling, presenting a strong-flavored beer as a \"lager.\" It could also reflect that participants simply thought it was good. (Only one guessed it was Sam Adams.) As for Grolsch ... it is very strongly hopped, which can seem exotic if you know you're drinking a pricey import but simply bad if you don't. MGD overtook Grolsch in the race for the bottom because, while many people hated Grolsch, some actually liked it; no one liked MGD. There are some other important findings buried in the chart, but they're clearest if we move to ... \n\n         3) Value for Money: the Taste-o-meter® . Since this experiment's real purpose was to find the connection between cost and taste, the next step was to adjust subjective preference points by objective cost. The Taste-o-meter rating for each beer was calculated by dividing its corrected average preference rating by its price per pint . If Beer X had ratings twice as high as Beer Y, but it cost three times as much, Beer Y would have the higher Taste-o-meter rating. When the 10 beers are reranked this way, the results are: \n\n           \n\n         In a familiar pattern, we have Grolsch bringing up the rear, with less than one-quarter the Taste-o-meter power of Busch , the No. 1 value beer. The real news in this ranking is: the success of Busch ; the embarrassment of Heineken and Miller Genuine Draft , an expensive and a medium beer, respectively, which share the cellar with the hapless Grolsch ; and the nearly Busch-like value of Milwaukee's Best and Schmidt's . It is safe to say that none of our testers would have confessed respect for Busch, Milwaukee's Best, or Schmidt's before the contest began. But when they didn't know what they were drinking, they found these beers much closer in quality to \"best\" beers than the prices would indicate. \n\n                         4) Social Value for Money: the Snob-o-meter® . In addition to saying which beers they preferred, the tasters were asked to estimate whether the beers were expensive or not--in effect, to judge whether other people would like and be impressed by the beers. One taster perfectly understood the intention of this measure when he said, in comments about Beer B (Heineken), \"I don't like it, but I bet it's what the snobs buy.\" The Snob-o-meter rating for each beer is similar to the Taste-o-meter. You start with the \"group\" ranking--whether the tasters thought the beer belonged in Group 1 (cheap), 2, or 3--and then divide by the price per pint. The result tells you the social-mobility power of the beer--how impressive it will seem, relative to how much it costs. The Snob-o-meter rankings are: \n\n           \n\n         We won't even speak of poor Grolsch or MGD any more. The story here is the amazing snob-power-per-dollar of Busch , closely followed by Schmidt's . A dollar spent on Busch gets you three times the impressiveness of a dollar spent in Grolsch, useful information when planning a party. Not everyone liked Busch--one called it \"crap\"; another, \"Water. LITE.\" But the magic of statistics lets us see the larger trends. \n\n          5 Conclusions                . Further study is needed. But on the basis of evidence to date, we can say: \n\n          \n\n            One and only one beer truly survived the blind taste test. This is Sam Adams , which 10 tasters independently ranked \"best\" without knowing they were drinking a fancy beer. (They knew it was darker than the others but couldn't have known whether this was some trick off-brand sneaked into the test.) \n\n            Don't serve Grolsch unless you know people will consider it exotic, or unless you've invited me. \n\n            Apart from Sam Adams and Grolsch, the tasters really had trouble telling one beer from another . This conclusion is implicit in many of the findings, but it was really obvious during the experiment itself, when the confident look of men-who-know-their-beer quickly turned to dismay and panic as they realized that all the lagers tasted pretty much the same. \n\n          \n\n         The evidence suggests other implications about specific beers. For instance, the comments about Coors Light are much less enthusiastic than the average-or-better numerical rankings. Most tasters paused to complain about it--\"fizzy and soapy\"--before giving it reasonable marks. But the main implication, and the most useful consumer news from this study, is a radically simplified buying philosophy for lager beers. Based on this study, rational consumers should: \n\n         1) Buy Sam Adams when they want an individual glass of lager to be as good as it can be. \n\n         2) Buy Busch at all other times, since it gives them the maximum taste and social influence per dollar invested. \n\n         The detailed rankings and comments for all tasters on all beers may be found . \n\n         Next installment: fancy beers .\n", "questions": [{"question": "What type of joke does the author make about his coworkers?", "question_unique_id": "20027_2RUIA5TI_1", "options": ["A joke about writing skills", "A joke about gender stereotypes", "A joke about laziness", "A joke about alcoholics"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the author want the tasters to taste lagers?", "question_unique_id": "20027_2RUIA5TI_2", "options": ["They all sneer at lagers", "It is the most common beer in the US", "It is his favorite beer", "It would be new to most of them"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the author classify the beers?", "question_unique_id": "20027_2RUIA5TI_3", "options": ["He used prices at his local store", "He used nationwide average prices", "He used his favorite beer categories", "He asked the tasters to create 3 categories"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did not happen during the experiment?", "question_unique_id": "20027_2RUIA5TI_4", "options": ["All tasters had the same amount of each beer", "All tasters spent the same amount of time tasting", "All tasters tried the beers in the same order", "All tasters ranked the beers"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the tasters feel during the experiment", "question_unique_id": "20027_2RUIA5TI_5", "options": ["Dismayed", "Confident", "Drunk", "Happy"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is true about the results?", "question_unique_id": "20027_2RUIA5TI_6", "options": ["A majority of the tasters chose the same favorite beer", "People found it hard to rate a favorite beer from the 10", "No favorite beer was also rated as a least favorite beer by a different taster", "All tasters rated a favorite beer of the 10"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the author's favorite beer test in the experiment?", "question_unique_id": "20027_2RUIA5TI_7", "options": ["No one liked it", "It had the best value for the cost", "It was not rated as worth the money it costs", "Almost everyone loved it"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20055", "set_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1002", "source": "Slate", "title": "We Do Understand", "year": "1998", "author": "William Saletan", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "We Do Understand \n\n         \"This is not another book about civility,\" Deborah Tannen promises in the first sentence of The Argument Culture . \"Civility,\" she explains, suggests a \"veneer of politeness spread thin over human relations like a layer of marmalade over toast.\" Instead, Tannen has written something less: a book about other books about civility. Quoting from Washington Post media critic Howard Kurtz, political scientist Larry Sabato, and others who have studied the rise of belligerence in politics, journalism, and law, Tannen spreads their insights thin over all human relations, painting a general theory of discord. The whole is less perceptive than its parts and more pernicious. \n\n         In her previous books-- That's Not What I Meant! (1986), You Just Don't Understand (1990), and Talking From 9 to 5 (1994)--Tannen carved out a niche as the nation's pre-eminent intergender translator and couples counselor. A professor of linguistics at Georgetown University, she transformed the comparative study of male and female conversational patterns from a linguistic subdiscipline into a self-help movement. Until recently, though, Tannen confined her analysis to conversations among dysfunctional individuals. (For an illustration, click .) But in The Argument Culture , she takes her movement one step further, peddling the elixir of mutual understanding as a remedy for the whole damned dysfunctional country. This is necessary, she argues, because \"contentious public discourse\" not only poisons the political atmosphere, it also risks infecting our most intimate relationships. \n\n         Tannen, like some grandmotherly creature from an Aesop fable, admonishes us to recognize what is good in the work of others, and it is only fair to extend her the same courtesy. Here's what's worth gleaning from her book: \n\n         Don't just quarrel; listen and learn. \n\n         Don't nit-pick other people's ideas; build your own. \n\n         Don't argue for the sake of arguing. \n\n         Truth and courage often lie in the middle, not the extremes. \n\n         Many issues are multisided. \n\n         Focus on the substance of debates, not on strategy, theater, or the opponents' personal flaws. \n\n         Don't fight over small issues. \n\n         Don't obstruct good ideas just so you can win. \n\n         If you portray everything as a scandal, no one will care when something really is scandalous. \n\n          All this is sage advice--for couples, for families, for bosses and employees, maybe even for book reviewers. But when she applies her precepts to our great national conversation, Tannen gets confused. She conflates belligerence, divisiveness, polarization, titillation, jealousy, incivility, aloofness, ruthlessness, cruelty, savagery, contempt, glibness, cynicism, anomie, partisanship, obstructionism, and gridlock. She makes culprits out of answering machines, electronic mail, campaign money, malpractice litigation, HMOs, corporate takeovers, and the demise of house calls by the family doctor. \n\n         \"When there is a need to make others wrong,\" Tannen argues, \"the temptation is great to oversimplify\" and to \"seize upon the weakest examples, ignore facts that support your opponent's views, and focus only on those that support yours.\" In her need to make the \"argument culture\" wrong, she succumbs to these temptations. She blames the mainstream press, not just the paparazzi , for torturing Princess Diana and driving Adm. Mike Boorda to suicide. She compares to the propaganda of \"totalitarian countries\" (because falsehoods are spread) and to the dehumanization involved in \"ethnically motivated assaults\" (because reporters hound politicians). She blames communications technology for obscene and threatening phone calls made by former university President Richard Berendzen and former Judge Sol Wachtler. \n\n         Tannen's main mistake is failing to appreciate the difference between two distinct social spheres: the sphere of snuggle and the sphere of struggle. Some people--say, your spouse or your kids--you should snuggle with. Others--say, Saddam Hussein--you shouldn't. Tannen's antagonism toward antagonism makes sense in the former case but not in the latter. Among her illustrations of belligerence are William Safire's \"kick 'em when they're up\" philosophy of journalism and the media's use of war metaphors to describe Alan Greenspan's policies against inflation. To which one might sensibly reply: Good for Greenspan and Safire--and for us. The Federal Reserve's war on inflation and the press corps' scrutiny of powerful people safeguard the country. Some things are worth fighting for, and some things are worth fighting. \n\n         Vigilance and combat are particularly essential to law enforcement and foreign policy, which must deal with thugs and tyrants, not thoughtless husbands. Tannen laments that cops and soldiers have been \"trained to overcome their resistance to kill\" by trying \"not to think of their opponents as human beings.\" She neglects to mention that our safety depends on the ability of these officers to kill their adversaries. Comparing Vietnam to World War II, Tannen focuses strictly on the soldiers' social experience. In World War II, she observes, they trained, served, and went home together. \"Vietnam, in contrast, was a 'lonely war' of individuals assigned to constantly shifting units for year-long tours of duty.\" She ignores the more important difference: In World War II, they were fighting Hitler. \n\n          Tannen doesn't trust in the power of good argumentation to keep society honest, much less correct itself, because she rather shockingly insists \"\" that people can distinguish lies from the truth. Nor does she trust our competence to manage unfettered communication: \"E-mail makes it too easy to forward messages, too easy to reply before your temper cools, too easy to broadcast messages to large numbers of people without thinking about how every sentence will strike every recipient.\" Lexis-Nexis is an equally unwelcome troublemaker: \"Technology also exacerbates the culture of critique by making it much easier for politicians or journalists to ferret out inconsistencies in a public person's statements over time.\" \n\n         Given this oddly paternalistic (or maternalistic) diagnosis, it's not surprising that Tannen should wish to cover our ears, filtering out strife, deception, and debate. She assures us that all reasonable people can agree that disseminating birth control and sex education is the best way to reduce the abortion rate; that stiff sentences for small drug offenses don't reduce drug abuse; that global warming is producing \"disastrous consequences.\" Partial-birth abortion is \"surely not\" a \"very important\" issue, and Congress should not have let the Republican \"politics of obstruction\" defeat President Clinton's health care proposal in 1994, given the \"broad bipartisan and public consensus that it was desperately needed.\" The \"view of government as the enemy\" isn't worth debating; it's just \"another troubling aspect of the argument culture.\" Indeed, Tannen embraces a colleague's claim that \"right-wing talk radio\" deploys phrases \"similar to verbal manipulations employed by propagandists in the Nazi era.\" \n\n         Tannen finds it particularly unseemly that reporters and independent counsels treat the nation's ultimate father figure with such irreverence. She complains that Clinton's weekly radio address \"is followed immediately by a Republican response,\" which \"weakens the public's ability to see leaders as leaders.\" A reporter's skeptical question to Clinton \"broke the spell\" of Ruth Bader Ginsburg's remarks upon being nominated to the Supreme Court, thereby injuring citizens' \"sense of connection\" to \"our judicial system.\" The investigation of former Agriculture Secretary Mike Espy was excessive, the campaign against former Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders was \"cruelly unfair,\" and the Whitewater investigation--led by \"a prominent Republican known for his animosity toward the president\"--is, in the words of Arkansas journalist Gene Lyons, \"the result of the nastiest and most successful political 'dirty tricks' campaign in recent American history.\" Is Tannen a Clinton apologist? She rules that criticism out of bounds. \"The very fact that defending our nation's elected leader makes one suspect--an 'apologist'--is in itself evidence of the culture of critique,\" she writes. \n\n         The First Amendment, in Tannen's view, has often become \"a pretext to justify the airing of just those views that make for the most entertaining fights.\" As an alternative, she offers Asian authoritarianism: \"Disputation was rejected in ancient China as 'incompatible with the decorum and harmony cultivated by the true sage.' \" Similarly, \"the minimal human unit in Japan is not the individual but the group.\" Instead of the American practice of having two guests debate policy questions on TV news programs, she suggests a Japanese format, which \"typically features a single guest.\" (Click to learn how she puts this into practice.) \n\n         Tannen even wants to protect us from the possibility of unpleasant confrontations in the courtroom. \"The purpose of most cross-examinations\" is \"not to establish facts but to discredit the witness,\" she asserts, as though the two objectives were unrelated. Thus, \"the adversary system ... is inhumane to the victims of cross-examination.\" She simply assumes the very thing the trial is supposed to prove and what cross-examination might disprove (if this is, in fact, the point of the trial): that the witness is a victim. Conversely, she assumes that the defendant cannot be a victim. While objecting to cross-examination of alleged rape victims because \"it is easy to distort events so that a rape can appear to be consensual sex,\" she ignores the reverse implication--that it is easy to make consensual sex look like rape. She complains that when Anita Hill accused Clarence Thomas of sexual harassment, \"Framing these hearings as a two-sides dispute between Hill and Thomas allowed the senators to focus their investigation on cross-examining Hill rather than seeking other sorts of evidence.\" Did the dispute not have two sides? Should Hill not have been cross-examined? \n\n         Instead of the American system, Tannen proposes consideration of the French and German systems. Under French law, after Princess Diana's death: \n\n         The photographers were held for two days without charges being filed and without being allowed to confer with lawyers. ... The judges do most of the questioning; though lawyers can also ask questions, they cannot cross-examine witnesses. Guilt ... need not be established 'beyond a reasonable doubt' but simply by ... the judge's intimate belief, or deeply held sense, of what happened. \n\n         Likewise, Tannen recalls the trial of a Canadian man who had denied the Holocaust. The defendant's lawyer interrogated concentration camp survivors, asking whether they had seen their parents gassed. The adversarial system permitted such questions to be asked and answered--admittedly a vexatious experience for the survivors but one that does entail an airing of the facts of the Holocaust. Tannen, however, treats it only as a display of the \"cruelty of cross-examination.\" She raises no objection to the Canadian hate-speech ban under which the defendant was prosecuted. Would Tannen argue that the United States should adopt such a law, along with, say, a ban on the cross-examination of accusers? If so, she'd be wrong. But hey, so far, it's still a free country. \n\n                         If you missed the links within the review, click to read: 1) an illustration of ; 2) Tannen's that American journalism is just like propaganda from totalitarian regimes, plus William Saletan's disclosure that \"several of these propagandists now infest Slate \"; 3) the for her contention that there is no evidence that people can distinguish lies from truth; 4) and an example of how Tannen from a one-guest format on TV and radio talk shows.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does Tannen say her book is not about civility?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_1", "options": ["She doesn't think books about civility are worth reading", "She doesn't believe people are capable of civil discourse", "She thinks civility is too superficial of a solution", "She doesn't believe civil discourse is effective"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What two fields does the author say Tannen mixes together?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_2", "options": ["linguistics and politics", "men and women", "personal communication and public communication", "speaking and writing"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author feel is contradictory about Tannen's work?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_3", "options": ["Supporting Bill Clinton ", "Thinking she can apply linguistics to intergender communication", "Being against email and mass communication while using it herself", "Saying not to criticize others while criticizing people herself"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the author feel about Tannen's book?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_4", "options": ["They found nothing worthwhile in it", "They found the whole thing very worthwhile", "They found a small list of things that were worthwhile in it", "They found it to be the best of all of her books"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is not a lesson the author gleaned from the book?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_5", "options": ["Look on all sides of a discussion", "Extremists are usually the most courageous people", "Innovating is better than criticizing", "Don't misrepresent things or people will stop listening to you"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the author think Tannen is wrong?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_6", "options": ["She believes people should be critical of everything they disagree with, no matter how small", "She exercises her right to free speech", "She expects men and women to communicate well", "She advocates treating a terrorist the same way you treat your best friend"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author think investigative journalism accomplishes?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_7", "options": ["Driving people to suicide", "Nothing", "Stopping people from abusing their power", "Tearing down people who are just trying to do good"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What mistake does Tannen make when discussing the military?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_8", "options": ["seeing the world as too dangerous", "oversimplification", "equating police and military", "denying the holocaust"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which statement resonates most with Tannen's viewpoint?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_9", "options": ["Hear no evil", "See no evil", "Speak no evil", "Do no evil"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Tannen feel about the Bill of Rights?", "question_unique_id": "20055_VR0SZT3O_10", "options": ["She supports it fully", "She thinks the rights are used responsibly by the majority of people", "She expresses a preference for dictatorship", "She thinks only those who agree with her should have rights"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "51650", "set_unique_id": "51650_RM2TQ88X", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Innocent at Large", "year": 1954, "author": "Anderson, Poul; Anderson, Karen", "topic": "Swindlers and swindling -- Fiction; Short stories; PS; Martians -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "INNOCENT AT LARGE\nBy POUL AND KAREN ANDERSON\n\n\n Illustrated by WOOD\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction July 1958.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nA hayseed Martian among big-planet slickers ... of course\n \nhe would get into trouble. But that was nothing compared\n \nto the trouble he would be in if he did not get into trouble!\nThe visiphone chimed when Peri had just gotten into her dinner gown.\n She peeled it off again and slipped on a casual bathrobe: a wisp of\n translucence which had set the president of Antarctic Enterprise—or\n had it been the chairman of the board?—back several thousand dollars.\n Then she pulled a lock of lion-colored hair down over one eye, checked\n with a mirror, rumpled it a tiny bit more and wrapped the robe loosely\n on top and tight around the hips.\n\n\n After all, some of the men who knew her private number were important.\n\n\n She undulated to the phone and pressed its Accept. \"Hello-o, there,\"\n she said automatically. \"So sorry to keep you waiting. I was just\n taking a bath and—Oh. It's you.\"\n\n\n Gus Doran's prawnlike eyes popped at her. \"Holy Success,\" he whispered\n in awe. \"You sure the wires can carry that much voltage?\"\n\"Well, hurry up with whatever it is,\" snapped Peri. \"I got a date\n tonight.\"\n\n\n \"I'll say you do! With a Martian!\"\nPeri narrowed her silver-blue gaze and looked icily at him. \"You must\n have heard wrong, Gus. He's the heir apparent of Indonesia, Inc.,\n that's who, and if you called up to ask for a piece of him, you can\n just blank right out again. I saw him first!\"\n\n\n Doran's thin sharp face grinned. \"You break that date, Peri. Put it off\n or something. I got this Martian for you, see?\"\n\n\n \"So? Since when has all Mars had as much spending money as one big-time\n marijuana rancher? Not to mention the heir ap—\"\n\n\n \"Sure, sure. But how much are those boys going to spend on any girl,\n even a high-level type like you? Listen, I need you just for tonight,\n see? This Martian is strictly from gone. He is here on official\n business, but he is a yokel and I do mean hayseed. Like he asked me\n what the Christmas decorations in all the stores were! And here is the\n solar nexus of it, Peri, kid.\"\n\n\n Doran leaned forward as if to climb out of the screen. \"He has got a\n hundred million dollars expense money, and they are not going to audit\n his accounts at home. One hundred million good green certificates,\n legal tender anywhere in the United Protectorates. And he has about\n as much backbone as a piece of steak alga. Kid, if I did not happen to\n have experience otherwise with a small nephew, I would say this will be\n like taking candy from a baby.\"\n\n\n Peri's peaches-and-cream countenance began to resemble peaches and\n cream left overnight on Pluto. \"Badger?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"Sure. You and Sam Wendt handle the routine. I will take the go-between\n angle, so he will think of me as still his friend, because I have other\n plans for him too. But if we can't shake a million out of him for this\n one night's work, there is something akilter. And your share of a\n million is three hundred thirty-three—\"\n\n\n \"Is five hundred thousand flat,\" said Peri. \"Too bad I just got an\n awful headache and can't see Mr. Sastro tonight. Where you at, Gus?\"\nThe gravity was not as hard to take as Peter Matheny had expected.\n Three generations on Mars might lengthen the legs and expand the chest\n a trifle, but the genes had come from Earth and the organism readjusts.\n What set him gasping was the air. It weighed like a ton of wool and had\n apparently sopped up half the Atlantic Ocean. Ears trained to listen\n through the Martian atmosphere shuddered from the racket conducted by\n Earth's. The passport official seemed to bellow at him.\n\n\n \"Pardon me for asking this. The United Protectorates welcome all\n visitors to Earth and I assure you, sir, an ordinary five-year visa\n provokes no questions. But since you came on an official courier boat\n of your planet, Mr. Matheny, regulations force me to ask your business.\"\n\n\n \"Well—recruiting.\"\n\n\n The official patted his comfortable stomach, iridescent in neolon, and\n chuckled patronizingly. \"I am afraid, sir, you won't find many people\n who wish to leave. They wouldn't be able to see the Teamsters Hour on\n Mars, would they?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, we don't expect immigration,\" said Matheny shyly. He was a fairly\n young man, but small, with a dark-thatched, snub-nosed, gray-eyed\n head that seemed too large for his slender body. \"We learned long ago\n that no one is interested any more in giving up even second-class\n citizenship on Earth to live in the Republic. But we only wanted to\n hire——uh, I mean engage—an, an advisor. We're not businessmen. We\n know our export trade hasn't a chance among all your corporations\n unless we get some—a five-year contract...?\"\n\n\n He heard his words trailing off idiotically, and swore at himself.\n\n\n \"Well, good luck.\" The official's tone was skeptical. He stamped the\n passport and handed it back. \"There, now, you are free to travel\n anywhere in the Protectorates. But I would advise you to leave the\n capital and get into the sticks—um, I mean the provinces. I am sure\n there must be tolerably competent sales executives in Russia or\n Congolese Belgium or such regions. Frankly, sir, I do not believe you\n can attract anyone out of Newer York.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" said Matheny, \"but, you see, I—we need—that is.... Oh,\n well. Thanks. Good-by.\"\n\n\n He backed out of the office.\nA dropshaft deposited him on a walkway. The crowd, a rainbow of men in\n pajamas and robes, women in Neo-Sino dresses and goldleaf hats, swept\n him against the rail. For a moment, squashed to the wire, he stared a\n hundred feet down at the river of automobiles.\nPhobos!\nhe thought\n wildly.\nIf the barrier gives, I'll be sliced in two by a dorsal fin\n before I hit the pavement!\nThe August twilight wrapped him in heat and stickiness. He could see\n neither stars nor even moon through the city's blaze. The forest of\n multi-colored towers, cataracting half a mile skyward across more\n acreage than his eyes reached, was impressive and all that, but—he\n used to stroll out in the rock garden behind his cottage and smoke a\n pipe in company with Orion. On summer evenings, that is, when the\n temperature wasn't too far below zero.\nWhy did they tap me for this job?\nhe asked himself in a surge of\n homesickness.\nWhat the hell is the Martian Embassy here for?\nHe, Peter Matheny, was no more than a peaceful professor of\n sociodynamics at Devil's Kettle University. Of course, he had advised\n his government before now—in fact, the Red Ankh Society had been his\n idea—but still he was at ease only with his books and his chess and\n his mineral collection, a faculty poker party on Tenthday night and an\n occasional trip to Swindletown—\nMy God\n, thought Matheny,\nhere I am, one solitary outlander in the\n greatest commercial empire the human race has ever seen, and I'm\n supposed to find my planet a con man!\nHe began walking, disconsolately, at random. His lizardskin shirt and\n black culottes drew glances, but derisive ones: their cut was forty\n years out of date. He should find himself a hotel, he thought drearily,\n but he wasn't tired; the spaceport would pneumo his baggage to him\n whenever he did check in. The few Martians who had been to Earth had\n gone into ecstasies over the automation which put any service you could\n name on a twenty-four-hour basis. But it would be a long time before\n Mars had such machines. If ever.\n\n\n The city roared at him.\n\n\n He fumbled after his pipe.\nOf course\n, he told himself,\nthat's why\n the Embassy can't act. I may find it advisable to go outside the law.\n Please, sir, where can I contact the underworld?\nHe wished gambling were legal on Earth. The Constitution of the Martian\n Republic forbade sumptuary and moral legislation; quite apart from the\n rambunctious individualism which that document formulated, the article\n was a practical necessity. Life was bleak enough on the deserts,\n without being denied the pleasure of trying to bottom-deal some friend\n who was happily trying to mark the cards. Matheny would have found a\n few spins of roulette soothing: it was always an intellectual challenge\n to work out the system by which the management operated a wheel. But\n more, he would have been among people he understood.\n\n\n The frightful thing about the Earthman was the way he seemed to\n exist only in organized masses. A gypsy snake oil peddler, plodding\n his syrtosaur wagon across Martian sands, just didn't have a prayer\n against, say, the Grant, Harding & Adams Public Relations Agency.\nMatheny puffed smoke and looked around. His feet ached from the weight\n on them. Where could a man sit down? It was hard to make out any\n individual sign through all that flimmering neon. His eye fell on one\n that was distinguished by relative austerity.\nTHE CHURCH OF CHOICE\nEnter, Play, Pray\nThat would do. He took an upward slideramp through several hundred feet\n of altitude, stepped past an aurora curtain, and found himself in a\n marble lobby next to an inspirational newsstand.\n\n\n \"Ah, brother, welcome,\" said a red-haired usherette in demure black\n leotards. \"The peace that passeth all understanding be with you. The\n restaurant is right up those stairs.\"\n\n\n \"I—I'm not hungry,\" stammered Matheny. \"I just wanted to sit in—\"\n\n\n \"To your left, sir.\"\n\n\n The Martian crossed the lobby. His pipe went out in the breeze from an\n animated angel. Organ music sighed through an open doorway. The series\n of rooms beyond was dim, Gothic, interminable.\n\n\n \"Get your chips right here, sir,\" said the girl in the booth.\n\n\n \"Hm?\" said Matheny.\n\n\n She explained. He bought a few hundred-dollar tokens, dropped a\n fifty-buck coin down a slot marked CONTRIBUTIONS, and sipped the\n martini he got back while he strolled around studying the games.\n He stopped, frowned. Bingo? No, he didn't want to bother learning\n something new. He decided that the roulette wheels were either honest\n or too deep for him. He'd have to relax with a crap game instead.\n\n\n He had been standing at the table for some time before the rest of the\n congregation really noticed him. Then it was with awe. The first few\n passes he had made were unsuccessful. Earth gravity threw him off.\n But when he got the rhythm of it, he tossed a row of sevens. It was a\n customary form of challenge on Mars. Here, though, they simply pushed\n chips toward him. He missed a throw, as anyone would at home: simple\n courtesy. The next time around, he threw for a seven just to get the\n feel. He got a seven. The dice had not been substituted on him.\n\n\n \"I say!\" he exclaimed. He looked up into eyes and eyes, all around the\n green table. \"I'm sorry. I guess I don't know your rules.\"\n\n\n \"You did all right, brother,\" said a middle-aged lady with an obviously\n surgical bodice.\n\n\n \"But—I mean—when do we start actually\nplaying\n? What happened to the\n cocked dice?\"\nThe lady drew herself up and jutted an indignant brow at him. \"Sir!\n This is a church!\"\n\n\n \"Oh—I see—excuse me, I, I, I—\" Matheny backed out of the crowd,\n shuddering. He looked around for some place to hide his burning ears.\n\n\n \"You forgot your chips, pal,\" said a voice.\n\n\n \"Oh. Thanks. Thanks ever so much. I, I, that is—\" Matheny cursed\n his knotting tongue.\nDamn it, just because they're so much more\n sophisticated than I, do I have to talk like a leaky boiler?\nThe helpful Earthman was not tall. He was dark and chisel-faced and\n sleekly pomaded, dapper in blue pajamas with a red zigzag, a sleighbell\n cloak and curly-toed slippers.\n\n\n \"You're from Mars, aren't you?\" he asked in the friendliest tone\n Matheny had yet heard.\n\n\n \"Yes. Yes, I am. M-my name's Peter Matheny. I, I—\" He stuck out his\n hand to shake and chips rolled over the floor. \"Damn! Oh, excuse me, I\n forgot this was a church. Never mind the chips. No, please. I just want\n to g-g-get the hell out of here.\"\n\n\n \"Good idea. How about a drink? I know a bar downshaft.\"\n\n\n Matheny sighed. \"A drink is what I need the very most.\"\n\n\n \"My name's Doran. Gus Doran. Call me Gus.\"\n\n\n They walked back to the deaconette's booth and Matheny cashed what\n remained of his winnings.\n\n\n \"I don't want to—I mean if you're busy tonight, Mr. Doran—\"\n\n\n \"Nah. I am not doing one thing in particular. Besides, I have never met\n a Martian. I am very interested.\"\n\n\n \"There aren't many of us on Earth,\" agreed Matheny. \"Just a small\n embassy staff and an occasional like me.\"\n\n\n \"I should think you would do a lot of traveling here. The old mother\n planet and so on.\"\n\n\n \"We can't afford it,\" said Matheny. \"What with gravitation and\n distance, such voyages are much too expensive for us to make them for\n pleasure. Not to mention our dollar shortage.\" As they entered the\n shaft, he added wistfully: \"You Earth people have that kind of money,\n at least in your more prosperous brackets. Why don't you send a few\n tourists to us?\"\n\n\n \"I always wanted to,\" said Doran. \"I would like to see the what they\n call City of Time, and so on. As a matter of fact, I have given my\n girl one of those Old Martian rings last Ike's Birthday and she was\n just gazoo about it. A jewel dug out of the City of Time, like,\n made a million years ago by a, uh, extinct race ... I tell you, she\nappreciated\nme for it!\" He winked and nudged.\n\n\n \"Oh,\" said Matheny.\nHe felt a certain guilt. Doran was too pleasant a little man to\n deserve—\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Matheny said ritually, \"I agree with all the archeologists\n it's a crime to sell such scientifically priceless artifacts, but what\n can we do? We must live, and the tourist trade is almost nonexistent.\"\n\n\n \"Trouble with it is, I hear Mars is not so comfortable,\" said Doran. \"I\n mean, do not get me wrong, I don't want to insult you or anything, but\n people come back saying you have given the planet just barely enough\n air to keep a man alive. And there are no cities, just little towns and\n villages and ranches out in the bush. I mean you are being pioneers and\n making a new nation and all that, but people paying half a megabuck for\n their ticket expect some comfort and, uh, you know.\"\n\n\n \"I do know,\" said Matheny. \"But we're poor—a handful of people trying\n to make a world of dust and sand and scrub thorn into fields and woods\n and seas. We can't do it without substantial help from Earth, equipment\n and supplies—which can only be paid for in Earth dollars—and we can't\n export enough to Earth to earn those dollars.\"\n\n\n By that time, they were entering the Paul Bunyan Knotty Pine Bar &\n Grill, on the 73rd Level. Matheny's jaw clanked down.\n\n\n \"Whassa matter?\" asked Doran. \"Ain't you ever seen a ecdysiastic\n technician before?\"\n\n\n \"Uh, yes, but—well, not in a 3-D image under ten magnifications.\"\n\n\n Matheny followed Doran past a sign announcing that this show was for\n purely artistic purposes, into a booth. There a soundproof curtain\n reduced the noise level enough so they could talk in normal voices.\n\n\n \"What'll you have?\" asked Doran. \"It's on me.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, I couldn't let you. I mean—\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense. Welcome to Earth! Care for a thyle and vermouth?\"\n\n\n Matheny shuddered. \"Good Lord, no!\"\n\n\n \"Huh? But they make thyle right on Mars, don't they?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. And it all goes to Earth and sells at 2000 dollars a fifth. But\n you don't think we'd\ndrink\nit, do you? I mean—well, I imagine it\n doesn't absolutely\nruin\nvermouth. But we don't see those Earthside\n commercials about how sophisticated people like it so much.\"\n\"Well, I'll be a socialist creeper!\" Doran's face split in a grin. \"You\n know, all my life I've hated the stuff and never dared admit it!\" He\n raised a hand. \"Don't worry, I won't blabbo. But I am wondering, if you\n control the thyle industry and sell all those relics at fancy prices,\n why do you call yourselves poor?\"\n\n\n \"Because we are,\" said Matheny. \"By the time the shipping costs have\n been paid on a bottle, and the Earth wholesaler and jobber and sales\n engineer and so on, down to the retailer, have taken their percentage,\n and the advertising agency has been paid, and about fifty separate\n Earth taxes—there's very little profit going back to the distillery\n on Mars. The same principle is what's strangling us on everything. Old\n Martian artifacts aren't really rare, for instance, but freight charges\n and the middlemen here put them out of the mass market.\"\n\n\n \"Have you not got some other business?\"\n\n\n \"Well, we do sell a lot of color slides, postcards, baggage labels and\n so on to people who like to act cosmopolitan, and I understand our\n travel posters are quite popular as wall decoration. But all that has\n to be printed on Earth, and the printer and distributor keep most of\n the money. We've sold some books and show tapes, of course, but only\n one has been really successful—\nI Was a Slave Girl on Mars\n.\n\n\n \"Our most prominent novelist was co-opted to ghostwrite that one.\n Again, though, local income taxes took most of the money; authors\n never have been protected the way a businessman is. We do make a high\n percentage of profit on those little certificates you see around—you\n know, the title deeds to one square inch of Mars—but expressed\n absolutely, in dollars, it doesn't amount to much when we start\n shopping for bulldozers and thermonuclear power plants.\"\n\n\n \"How about postage stamps?\" inquired Doran. \"Philately is a big\n business, I have heard.\"\n\n\n \"It was our mainstay,\" admitted Matheny, \"but it's been overworked.\n Martian stamps are a drug on the market. What we'd like to operate is a\n sweepstakes, but the anti-gambling laws on Earth forbid that.\"\nDoran whistled. \"I got to give your people credit for enterprise,\n anyway!\" He fingered his mustache. \"Uh, pardon me, but have you tried\n to, well, attract capital from Earth?\"\n\n\n \"Of course,\" said Matheny bitterly. \"We offer the most liberal\n concessions in the Solar System. Any little mining company or transport\n firm or—or anybody—who wanted to come and actually invest a few\n dollars in Mars—why, we'd probably give him the President's daughter\n as security. No, the Minister of Ecology has a better-looking one.\n But who's interested? We haven't a thing that Earth hasn't got more\n of. We're only the descendants of a few scientists, a few political\n malcontents, oddballs who happen to prefer elbow room and a bill of\n liberties to the incorporated state—what could General Nucleonics\n hope to get from Mars?\"\n\n\n \"I see. Well, what are you having to drink?\"\n\n\n \"Beer,\" said Matheny without hesitation.\n\n\n \"Huh? Look, pal, this is on me.\"\n\n\n \"The only beer on Mars comes forty million miles, with interplanetary\n freight charges tacked on,\" said Matheny. \"Heineken's!\"\n\n\n Doran shrugged, dialed the dispenser and fed it coins.\n\n\n \"This is a real interesting talk, Pete,\" he said. \"You are being very\n frank with me. I like a man that is frank.\"\n\n\n Matheny shrugged. \"I haven't told you anything that isn't known to\n every economist.\"\nOf course I haven't. I've not so much as mentioned the Red Ankh, for\n instance. But, in principle, I have told him the truth, told him of our\n need; for even the secret operations do not yield us enough.\nThe beer arrived. Matheny engulfed himself in it. Doran sipped at a\n whiskey sour and unobtrusively set another full bottle in front of the\n Martian.\n\n\n \"Ahhh!\" said Matheny. \"Bless you, my friend.\"\n\n\n \"A pleasure.\"\n\n\n \"But now you must let me buy you one.\"\n\n\n \"That is not necessary. After all,\" said Doran with great tact, \"with\n the situation as you have been describing—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, we're not\nthat\npoor! My expense allowance assumes I will\n entertain quite a bit.\"\n\n\n Doran's brows lifted a few minutes of arc. \"You're here on business,\n then?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. I told you we haven't any tourists. I was sent to hire a business\n manager for the Martian export trade.\"\n\n\n \"What's wrong with your own people? I mean, Pete, it is not your fault\n there are so many rackets—uh, taxes—and middlemen and agencies and et\n cetera. That is just the way Earth is set up these days.\"\nMatheny's finger stabbed in the general direction of Doran's pajama\n top. \"Exactly. And who set it up that way? Earthmen. We Martians are\n babes in the desert. What chance do we have to earn dollars on the\n scale we need them, in competition with corporations which could buy\n and sell our whole planet before breakfast? Why, we couldn't afford\n three seconds of commercial time on a Lullaby Pillow 'cast. What we\n need, what we have to hire, is an executive who knows Earth, who's an\n Earthman himself. Let him tell us what will appeal to your people, and\n how to dodge the tax bite and—and—well, you see how it goes, that\n sort of, uh, thing.\"\n\n\n Matheny felt his eloquence running down and grabbed for the second\n bottle of beer.\n\n\n \"But where do I start?\" he asked plaintively, for his loneliness smote\n him anew. \"I'm just a college professor at home. How would I even get\n to see—\"\n\n\n \"It might be arranged,\" said Doran in a thoughtful tone. \"It just\n might. How much could you pay this fellow?\"\n\n\n \"A hundred megabucks a year, if he'll sign a five-year contract. That's\n Earth years, mind you.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry to tell you this, Pete,\" said Doran, \"but while that is not\n bad money, it is not what a high-powered sales scientist gets in Newer\n York. Plus his retirement benefits, which he would lose if he quit\n where he is now at. And I am sure he would not want to settle on Mars\n permanently.\"\n\n\n \"I could offer a certain amount of, uh, lagniappe,\" said Matheny. \"That\n is, well, I can draw up to a hundred megabucks myself for, uh, expenses\n and, well ... let me buy you a drink!\"\n\n\n Doran's black eyes frogged at him. \"You might at that,\" said the\n Earthman very softly. \"Yes, you might at that.\"\n\n\n Matheny found himself warming. Gus Doran was an authentic bobber. A\n hell of a swell chap. He explained modestly that he was a free-lance\n business consultant and it was barely possible that he could arrange\n some contacts....\n\n\n \"No, no, no commission, all done in the interest of interplanetary\n friendship ... well, anyhow, let's not talk business now. If you have\n got to stick to beer, Pete, make it a chaser to akvavit. What is\n akvavit? Well, I will just take and show you.\"\n\n\n A hell of a good bloke. He knew some very funny stories, too, and\n he laughed at Matheny's, though they were probably too rustic for a\n big-city taste like his.\n\n\n \"What I really want,\" said Matheny, \"what I really want—I mean what\n Mars really needs, get me?—is a confidence man.\"\n\n\n \"A what?\"\n\n\n \"The best and slickest one on Earth, to operate a world-size con game\n for us and make us some real money.\"\n\n\n \"Con man? Oh. A slipstring.\"\n\n\n \"A con by any other name,\" said Matheny, pouring down an akvavit.\nDoran squinted through cigarette smoke. \"You are interesting me\n strangely, my friend. Say on.\"\n\n\n \"No.\" Matheny realized his head was a bit smoky. The walls of the booth\n seemed odd, somehow. They were just leatheroid walls, but they had an\n odd quality.\n\n\n \"No, sorry, Gus,\" he said. \"I spoke too much.\"\n\n\n \"Okay. Forget it. I do not like a man that pries. But look, let's bomb\n out of here, how about it? Go have a little fun.\"\n\n\n \"By all means.\" Matheny disposed of his last beer. \"I could use some\n gaiety.\"\n\n\n \"You have come to the right town then. But let us get you a hotel room\n first and some more up-to-date clothes.\"\n\n\n \"\nAllez\n,\" said Matheny. \"If I don't mean\nallons\n, or maybe\nalors\n.\"\n\n\n The drop down to cab-ramp level and the short ride afterward sobered\n him; the room rate at the Jupiter-Astoria sobered him still more.\nOh, well\n, he thought,\nif I succeed in this job, no one at home will\n quibble.\nAnd the chamber to which he and Doran were shown was spectacular\n enough, with a pneumo direct to the bar and a full-wall transparency to\n show the vertical incandescence of the towers.\n\n\n \"Whoof!\" Matheny sat down. The chair slithered sensuously about his\n contours. He jumped. \"What the dusty hell—Oh.\" He tried to grin, but\n his face burned. \"I see.\"\n\n\n \"That is a sexy type of furniture, all right,\" agreed Doran. He lowered\n himself into another chair, cocked his feet on the 3-D and waved a\n cigarette. \"Which speaking of, what say we get some girls? It is not\n too late to catch them at home. A date here will usually start around\n 2100 hours earliest.\"\n\n\n \"What?\"\n\n\n \"You know. Dames. Like a certain blonde warhead with twin radar and\n swivel mounting, and she just loves exotics. Such as you.\"\n\n\n \"Me?\" Matheny heard his voice climb to a schoolboy squeak. \"Me?\n Exotic? Why, I'm just a little college professor. I g-g-g, that is—\"\n His tongue got stuck on his palate. He pulled it loose and moistened\n uncertain lips.\n\n\n \"You are from Mars. Okay? So you fought bushcats barehanded in an\n abandoned canal.\"\n\n\n \"What's a bushcat? And we don't have canals. The evaporation rate—\"\n\n\n \"Look, Pete,\" said Doran patiently. \"She don't have to know that, does\n she?\"\n\n\n \"Well—well, no. I guess not No.\"\n\n\n \"Let's order you some clothes on the pneumo,\" said Doran. \"I recommend\n you buy from Schwartzherz. Everybody knows he is expensive.\"\nWhile Matheny jittered about, shaving and showering and struggling with\n his new raiment, Doran kept him supplied with akvavit and beer.\n\n\n \"You said one thing, Pete,\" Doran remarked. \"About needing a\n slipstring. A con man, you would call it.\"\n\n\n \"Forget that. Please. I spoke out of turn.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you see, maybe a man like that is just what Mars does need. And\n maybe I have got a few contacts.\"\n\n\n \"What?\" Matheny gaped out of the bathroom.\n\n\n Doran cupped his hands around a fresh cigarette, not looking at him.\n \"I am not that man,\" he said frankly. \"But in my line I get a lot of\n contacts, and not all of them go topside. See what I mean? Like if,\n say, you wanted somebody terminated and could pay for it, I could not\n do it. I would not want to know anything about it. But I could tell you\n a phone number.\"\n\n\n He shrugged and gave the Martian a sidelong glance. \"Sure, you may not\n be interested. But if you are, well, Pete, I was not born yesterday. I\n got tolerance. Like the book says, if you want to get ahead, you have\n got to think positively.\"\n\n\n Matheny hesitated. If only he hadn't taken that last shot! It made him\n want to say yes, immediately, without reservations. And therefore maybe\n he became overcautious.\n\n\n They had instructed him on Mars to take chances if he must.\n\n\n \"I could tell you a thing or two that might give you a better idea,\" he\n said slowly. \"But it would have to be under security.\"\n\n\n \"Okay by me. Room service can send us up an oath box right now.\"\n\n\n \"What? But—but—\" Matheny hung onto himself and tried to believe that\n he had landed on Earth less than six hours ago.\n\n\n In the end, he did call room service and the machine was trundled in.\n Doran swallowed the pill and donned the conditioner helmet without an\n instant's hesitation.\n\n\n \"I shall never reveal to any person unauthorized by yourself whatever\n you may tell me under security, now or at any other time,\" he\n recited. Then, cheerfully: \"And that formula, Pete, happens to be the\n honest-to-zebra truth.\"\n\n\n \"I know.\" Matheny stared, embarrassed, at the carpet. \"I'm sorry\n to—to—I mean of course I trust you, but—\"\n\n\n \"Forget it. I take a hundred security oaths a year, in my line of work.\n Maybe I can help you. I like you, Pete, damn if I don't. And, sure,\n I might stand to get an agent's cut, if I arrange—Go ahead, boy, go\n ahead.\" Doran crossed his legs and leaned back.\n\n\n \"Oh, it's simple enough,\" said Matheny. \"It's only that we already are\n operating con games.\"\n\n\n \"On Mars, you mean?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. There never were any Old Martians. We erected the ruins fifty\n years ago for the Billingsworth Expedition to find. We've been\n manufacturing relics ever since.\"\n\n\n \"\nHuh?\nWell, why, but—\"\n\n\n \"In this case, it helps to be at the far end of an interplanetary\n haul,\" said Matheny. \"Not many Terrestrial archeologists get to Mars\n and they depend on our people to—Well, anyhow—\"\n\n\n \"I will be clopped! Good for you!\"\nDoran blew up in laughter. \"That is one thing I would never spill, even\n without security. I told you about my girl friend, didn't I?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, and that calls to mind the Little Girl,\" said Matheny\n apologetically. \"She was another official project.\"\n\n\n \"Who?\"\n\n\n \"Remember Junie O'Brien? The little golden-haired girl on Mars, a\n mathematical prodigy, but dying of an incurable disease? She collected\n Earth coins.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, that. Sure, I remember—Hey! You didn't!\"\n\n\n \"Yes. We made about a billion dollars on that one.\"\n\n\n \"I will be double damned. You know, Pete, I sent her a hundred-buck\n piece myself. Say, how is Junie O'Brien?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, fine. Under a different name, she's now our finance minister.\"\n Matheny stared out the wall, his hands twisting nervously behind his\n back. \"There were no lies involved. She really does have a fatal\n disease. So do you and I. Every day we grow older.\"\n\n\n \"Uh!\" exclaimed Doran.\n\n\n \"And then the Red Ankh Society. You must have seen or heard their ads.\n 'What mysterious knowledge did the Old Martians possess? What was\n the secret wisdom of the Ancient Aliens? Now the incredibly powerful\n semantics of the Red Ankh (not a religious organization) is available\n to a select few—' That's our largest dollar-earning enterprise.\"\n\n\n He would have liked to say it was his suggestion originally, but it\n would have been too presumptuous. He was talking to an Earthman, who\n had heard everything already.\n\n\n Doran whistled.\n\n\n \"That's about all, so far,\" confessed Matheny. \"Perhaps a con is our\n only hope. I've been wondering, maybe we could organize a Martian\n bucket shop, handling Martian securities, but—well, I don't know.\"\n\n\n \"I think—\" Doran removed the helmet and stood up.\n\n\n \"Yes?\" Matheny faced around, shivering with his own tension.\n\n\n \"I may be able to find the man you want,\" said Doran. \"I just may. It\n will take a few days and might get a little expensive.\"\n\n\n \"You mean.... Mr. Doran—Gus—you could actually—\"\n\n\n \"I cannot promise anything yet except that I will try. Now you finish\n dressing. I will be down in the bar. And I will call up this girl I\n know. We deserve a celebration!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "How is Mars faring in relation to Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51650_RM2TQ88X_1", "options": ["Behind the times", "Earth is striving to make a treaty with Mars", "About the same socioeconomic climate as Earth", "Advanced compared to the systems of Earth"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Peter feel towards Gus through the story?", "question_unique_id": "51650_RM2TQ88X_2", "options": ["He feels like a student to Gus", "Skeptical, appreciative, friendly", "He feels he has an advantage", "Conspiratorial, he cons Gus with a friendly act"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How much time passes over the course of the story?", "question_unique_id": "51650_RM2TQ88X_3", "options": ["Several months", "A week", "Less than a day", "Three days"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Gus and Peri?", "question_unique_id": "51650_RM2TQ88X_4", "options": ["They are colleagues working as spies in the government", "Peri is Gus’ boss", "They are conspiring con artists", "They are old friends owing each other favors"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are some of the current industries on Mars?", "question_unique_id": "51650_RM2TQ88X_5", "options": ["Artifacts, Distilled spirits, Media", "Tourism, Collectibles, Distilled spirits", "Mining, Media, Artifacts", "Postage stamps, Mining, Tourism"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Mars appear to be governed?", "question_unique_id": "51650_RM2TQ88X_6", "options": ["Mars has a dictatorship", "Mars and Earth are one in the same as far as the government is concerned", "Mars is currently trying to form a government", "A separate entity doing trade with Earth"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Mars become colonized in the story?", "question_unique_id": "51650_RM2TQ88X_7", "options": ["Martians originated from another solar system and colonized Mars", "Martians are uncertain of their own origin because their artifacts were destroyed", "Martians evolved separately on Mars", "Immigration from Earth"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Peter’s backstory?", "question_unique_id": "51650_RM2TQ88X_8", "options": ["Undercover recruiter posing as a college professor", "College professor on a personal mission to improve Mars’ economy by looking for business opportunities", "A con man pretending to recruit on Earth, but using special skills to win money at Earth’s casinos", "A high official on Mars sent to Earth to gain information"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/6/5/51650//51650-h//51650-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51483", "set_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Reluctant Heroes", "year": 1970, "author": "Robinson, Frank M.", "topic": "PS; Moon -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "The Reluctant Heroes\nBy FRANK M. ROBINSON\n\n\n Illustrated by DON SIBLEY\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction January 1951.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nPioneers have always resented their wanderlust, hated\n\n their hardships. But the future brings a new grudge—when\n\n pioneers stay put and scholars do the exploring!\nThe very young man sat on the edge of the sofa and looked nervous. He\n carefully studied his fingernails and ran his hands through his hair\n and picked imaginary lint off the upholstery.\n\"I have a chance to go with the first research expedition to Venus,\"\n he said.\nThe older man studied the very young man thoughtfully and then leaned\n over to his humidor and offered him a cigaret. \"It's nice to have the\n new air units now. There was a time when we had to be very careful\n about things like smoking.\"\nThe very young man was annoyed.\n\"I don't think I want to go,\" he blurted. \"I don't think I would care\n to spend two years there.\"\nThe older man blew a smoke ring and watched it drift toward the air\n exhaust vent.\n\"You mean you would miss it here, the people you've known and grown\n up with, the little familiar things that have made up your life here.\n You're afraid the glamor would wear off and you would get to hate it on\n Venus.\"\nThe very young man nodded miserably. \"I guess that's it.\"\n\"Anything else?\"\nThe very young man found his fingernails extremely fascinating again\n and finally said, in a low voice, \"Yes, there is.\"\n\"A girl?\"\nA nod confirmed this.\nIt was the older man's turn to look thoughtful. \"You know, I'm sure,\n that psychologists and research men agree that research stations should\n be staffed by couples. That is, of course, as soon as it's practical.\"\n\"But that might be a long time!\" the very young man protested.\n\"It might be—but sometimes it's sooner than you think. And the goal\n is worth it.\"\n\"I suppose so, but—\"\nThe older man smiled. \"Still the reluctant heroes,\" he said, somewhat\n to himself.\nChapman stared at the radio key.\n\n\n Three years on the Moon and they didn't want him to come back.\n\n\n Three years on the Moon and they thought he'd be glad to stay for more.\n Just raise his salary or give him a bonus, the every-man-has-his-price\n idea. They probably thought he liked it there.\n\n\n Oh, sure, he loved it. Canned coffee, canned beans, canned pills,\n and canned air until your insides felt as though they were plated\n with tin. Life in a cramped, smelly little hut where you could take\n only ten steps in any one direction. Their little scientific home of\n tomorrow with none of the modern conveniences, a charming place where\n you couldn't take a shower, couldn't brush your teeth, and your kidneys\n didn't work right.\n\n\n And for double his salary they thought he'd be glad to stay for another\n year and a half. Or maybe three. He should probably be glad he had the\n opportunity.\n\n\n The key started to stutter again, demanding an answer.\n\n\n He tapped out his reply: \"\nNo!\n\"\n\n\n There was a silence and then the key stammered once more in a sudden\n fit of bureaucratic rage. Chapman stuffed a rag under it and ignored\n it. He turned to the hammocks, strung against the bulkhead on the other\n side of the room.\n\n\n The chattering of the key hadn't awakened anybody; they were still\n asleep, making the animal noises that people usually make in slumber.\n Dowden, half in the bottom hammock and half on the floor, was snoring\n peacefully. Dahl, the poor kid who was due for stopover, was mumbling\n to himself. Julius Klein, with that look of ineffable happiness on his\n face, looked as if he had just squirmed under the tent to his personal\n idea of heaven. Donley and Bening were lying perfectly still, their\n covers not mussed, sleeping very lightly.\n\n\n Lord, Chapman thought, I'll be happy when I can see some other faces.\n\n\n \"What'd they want?\" Klein had one eyelid open and a questioning look on\n his face.\n\n\n \"They wanted me to stay until the next relief ship lands,\" Chapman\n whispered back.\n\n\n \"What did you say?\"\n\n\n He shrugged. \"No.\"\n\n\n \"You kept it short,\" somebody else whispered. It was Donley, up and\n sitting on the side of his hammock. \"If it had been me, I would have\n told them just what they could do about it.\"\nThe others were awake now, with the exception of Dahl who had his face\n to the bulkhead and a pillow over his head.\n\n\n Dowden rubbed his eyes sleepily. \"Sore, aren't you?\"\n\n\n \"Kind of. Who wouldn't be?\"\n\n\n \"Well, don't let it throw you. They've never been here on the Moon.\n They don't know what it's like. All they're trying to do is get a good\n man to stay on the job a while longer.\"\n\n\n \"\nAll\nthey're trying to do,\" Chapman said sarcastically. \"They've got\n a fat chance.\"\n\n\n \"They think you've found a home here,\" Donley said.\n\n\n \"Why the hell don't you guys shut up until morning?\" Dahl was awake,\n looking bitter. \"Some of us still have to stay here, you know. Some of\n us aren't going back today.\"\n\n\n No, Chapman thought, some of us aren't going back. You aren't. And\n Dixon's staying, too. Only Dixon isn't ever going back.\n\n\n Klein jerked his thumb toward Dahl's bunk, held a finger to his lips,\n and walked noiselessly over to the small electric stove. It was his day\n for breakfast duty.\n\n\n The others started lacing up their bunks, getting ready for their last\n day of work on the Moon. In a few hours they'd be relieved by members\n of the Third research group and they'd be on their way back to Earth.\n\n\n And that includes me, Chapman thought. I'm going home. I'm finally\n going home.\n\n\n He walked silently to the one small, quartz window in the room. It was\n morning—the Moon's \"morning\"—and he shivered slightly. The rays of\n the Sun were just striking the far rim of the crater and long shadows\n shot across the crater floor. The rest of it was still blanketed in\n a dark jumble of powdery pumice and jagged peaks that would make the\n Black Hills of Dakota look like paradise.\n\n\n A hundred yards from the research bunker he could make out the small\n mound of stones and the forlorn homemade cross, jury-rigged out of\n small condensed milk tins slid over crossed iron bars. You could still\n see the footprints in the powdery soil where the group had gathered\n about the grave. It had been more than eighteen months ago, but there\n was no wind to wear those tracks away. They'd be there forever.\n\n\n That's what happened to guys like Dixon, Chapman thought. On the Moon,\n one mistake could use up your whole quota of chances.\n\n\n Klein came back with the coffee. Chapman took a cup, gagged, and forced\n himself to swallow the rest of it. It had been in the can for so long\n you could almost taste the glue on the label.\nDonley was warming himself over his cup, looking thoughtful. Dowden and\n Bening were struggling into their suits, getting ready to go outside.\n Dahl was still sitting on his hammock, trying to ignore them.\n\n\n \"Think we ought to radio the space station and see if they've left\n there yet?\" Klein asked.\n\n\n \"I talked to them on the last call,\" Chapman said. \"The relief ship\n left there twelve hours ago. They should get here\"—he looked at his\n watch—\"in about six and a half hours.\"\n\n\n \"Chap, you know, I've been thinking,\" Donley said quietly. \"You've\n been here just twice as long as the rest of us. What's the first thing\n you're going to do once you get back?\"\n\n\n It hit them, then. Dowden and Bening looked blank for a minute and\n blindly found packing cases to sit on. The top halves of their suits\n were still hanging on the bulkhead. Klein lowered his coffee cup and\n looked grave. Even Dahl glanced up expectantly.\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" Chapman said slowly. \"I guess I was trying not to think\n of that. I suppose none of us have. We've been like little kids who\n have waited so long for Christmas that they just can't believe it when\n it's finally Christmas Eve.\"\n\n\n Klein nodded in agreement. \"I haven't been here three years like you\n have, but I think I know what you mean.\" He warmed up to it as the idea\n sank in. \"Just what the hell\nare\nyou going to do?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing very spectacular,\" Chapman said, smiling. \"I'm going to rent\n a room over Times Square, get a recording of a rikky-tik piano, and\n drink and listen to the music and watch the people on the street below.\n Then I think I'll see somebody.\"\n\n\n \"Who's the somebody?\" Donley asked.\n\n\n Chapman grinned. \"Oh, just somebody. What are you going to do, Dick?\"\n\n\n \"Well, I'm going to do something practical. First of all, I want to\n turn over all my geological samples to the government. Then I'm going\n to sell my life story to the movies and then—why, then, I think I'll\n get drunk!\"\n\n\n Everybody laughed and Chapman turned to Klein.\n\n\n \"How about you, Julius?\"\n\n\n Klein looked solemn. \"Like Dick, I'll first get rid of my obligations\n to the expedition. Then I think I'll go home and see my wife.\"\n\n\n They were quiet. \"I thought all members of the groups were supposed to\n be single,\" Donley said.\n\n\n \"They are. And I can see their reasons for it. But who could pass up\n the money the Commission was paying?\"\n\n\n \"If I had to do it all over again? Me,\" said Donley promptly.\n\n\n They laughed. Somebody said: \"Go play your record, Chap. Today's the\n day for it.\"\n\n\n The phonograph was a small, wind-up model that Chapman had smuggled in\n when he had landed with the First group. The record was old and the\n shellac was nearly worn off, but the music was good.\n\n\n Way Back Home by Al Lewis.\nThey ran through it twice. They were beginning to feel it now, Chapman\n thought. They were going to go home in a little while and the idea was\n just starting to sink in.\n\n\n \"You know, Chap,\" Donley said, \"it won't seem like the same old Moon\n without you on it. Why, we'll look at it when we're out spooning or\n something and it just won't have the same old appeal.\"\n\n\n \"Like they say in the army,\" Bening said, \"you never had it so good.\n You found a home here.\"\n\n\n The others chimed in and Chapman grinned. Yesterday or a week ago they\n couldn't have done it. He had been there too long and he had hated it\n too much.\n\n\n The party quieted down after a while and Dowden and Bening finished\n getting into their suits. They still had a section of the sky to map\n before they left. Donley was right after them. There was an outcropping\n of rock that he wanted a sample of and some strata he wished to\n investigate.\n\n\n And the time went faster when you kept busy.\nChapman stopped them at the lock. \"Remember to check your suits for\n leaks,\" he warned. \"And check the valves of your oxygen tanks.\"\n\n\n Donley looked sour. \"I've gone out at least five hundred times,\" he\n said, \"and you check me each time.\"\n\n\n \"And I'd check you five hundred more,\" Chapman said. \"It takes only\n one mistake. And watch out for blisters under the pumice crust. You go\n through one of those and that's it, brother.\"\n\n\n Donley sighed. \"Chap, you watch us like an old mother hen. You see we\n check our suits, you settle our arguments, you see that we're not bored\n and that we stay healthy and happy. I think you'd blow our noses for us\n if we caught cold. But some day, Chap old man, you're gonna find out\n that your little boys can watch out for themselves!\"\n\n\n But he checked his suit for leaks and tested the valve of his tank\n before he left.\nOnly Klein and Chapman were left in the bunker. Klein was at the work\n table, carefully labeling some lichen specimens.\n\n\n \"I never knew you were married,\" Chapman said.\n\n\n Klein didn't look up. \"There wasn't much sense in talking about it. You\n just get to thinking and wanting—and there's nothing you can do about\n it. You talk about it and it just makes it worse.\"\n\n\n \"She let you go without any fuss, huh?\"\n\n\n \"No, she didn't make any fuss. But I don't think she liked to see me\n go, either.\" He laughed a little. \"At least I hope she didn't.\"\nThey were silent for a while. \"What do you miss most, Chap?\" Klein\n asked. \"Oh, I know what we said a little while ago, but I mean\n seriously.\"\n\n\n Chapman thought a minute. \"I think I miss the sky,\" he said quietly.\n \"The blue sky and the green grass and trees with leaves on them that\n turn color in the Fall. I think, when I go back, that I'd like to go\n out in a rain storm and strip and feel the rain on my skin.\"\n\n\n He stopped, feeling embarrassed. Klein's expression was encouraging.\n \"And then I think I'd like to go downtown and just watch the shoppers\n on the sidewalks. Or maybe go to a burlesque house and smell the cheap\n perfume and the popcorn and the people sweating in the dark.\"\n\n\n He studied his hands. \"I think what I miss most is people—all kinds\n of people. Bad people and good people and fat people and thin people,\n and people I can't understand. People who wouldn't know an atom from an\n artichoke. And people who wouldn't give a damn. We're a quarter of a\n million miles from nowhere, Julius, and to make it literary, I think I\n miss my fellow man more than anything.\"\n\n\n \"Got a girl back home?\" Klein asked almost casually.\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"You're not like Dahl. You've never mentioned it.\"\n\n\n \"Same reason you didn't mention your wife. You get to thinking about\n it.\"\n\n\n Klein flipped the lid on the specimen box. \"Going to get married when\n you get back?\"\n\n\n Chapman was at the port again, staring out at the bleak landscape. \"We\n hope to.\"\n\n\n \"Settle down in a small cottage and raise lots of little Chapmans, eh?\"\n\n\n Chapman nodded.\n\n\n \"That's the only future,\" Klein said.\n\n\n He put away the box and came over to the port. Chapman moved over so\n they both could look out.\n\n\n \"Chap.\" Klein hesitated a moment. \"What happened to Dixon?\"\n\n\n \"He died,\" Chapman said. \"He was a good kid, all wrapped up in science.\n Being on the Moon was the opportunity of a lifetime. He thought so much\n about it that he forgot a lot of little things—like how to stay alive.\n The day before the Second group came, he went out to finish some work\n he was interested in. He forgot to check for leaks and whether or not\n the valve on his tank was all the way closed. We couldn't get to him in\n time.\"\n\n\n \"He had his walkie-talkie with him?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. It worked fine, too. We heard everything that went through his\n mind at the end.\"\n\n\n Klein's face was blank. \"What's your real job here, Chap? Why does\n somebody have to stay for stopover?\"\n\n\n \"Hell, lots of reasons, Julius. You can't get a whole relief crew and\n let them take over cold. They have to know where you left off. They\n have to know where things are, how things work, what to watch out for.\n And then, because you've been here a year and a half and know the\n ropes, you have to watch them to see that they stay alive in spite of\n themselves. The Moon's a new environment and you have to learn how to\n live in it. There's a lot of things to learn—and some people just\n never learn.\"\n\n\n \"You're nursemaid, then.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose you could call it that.\"\nKlein said, \"You're not a scientist, are you?\"\n\n\n \"No, you should know that. I came as the pilot of the first ship. We\n made the bunker out of parts of the ship so there wasn't anything to\n go back on. I'm a good mechanic and I made myself useful with the\n machinery. When it occurred to us that somebody was going to have to\n stay over, I volunteered. I thought the others were so important that\n it was better they should take their samples and data back to Earth\n when the first relief ship came.\"\n\n\n \"You wouldn't do it again, though, would you?\"\n\n\n \"No, I wouldn't.\"\n\n\n \"Do you think Dahl will do as good a job as you've done here?\"\n\n\n Chapman frowned. \"Frankly, I hadn't thought of that. I don't believe\n I care. I've put in my time; it's somebody else's turn now. He\n volunteered for it. I think I was fair in explaining all about the job\n when you talked it over among yourselves.\"\n\n\n \"You did, but I don't think Dahl's the man for it. He's too young, too\n much of a kid. He volunteered because he thought it made him look like\n a hero. He doesn't have the judgment that an older man would have. That\n you have.\"\n\n\n Chapman turned slowly around and faced Klein.\n\n\n \"I'm not the indispensable man,\" he said slowly, \"and even if I was, it\n wouldn't make any difference to me. I'm sorry if Dahl is young. So was\n I. I've lost three years up here. And I don't intend to lose any more.\"\n\n\n Klein held up his hands. \"Look, Chap, I didn't mean you should stay. I\n know how much you hate it and the time you put in up here. It's just—\"\n His voice trailed away. \"It's just that I think it's such a damn\n important job.\"\n\n\n Klein had gone out in a last search for rock lichens and Chapman\n enjoyed one of his relatively few moments of privacy. He wandered over\n to his bunk and opened his barracks bag. He checked the underwear and\n his toothbrush and shaving kit for maybe the hundredth time and pushed\n the clothing down farther in the canvas. It was foolish because the\n bag was already packed and had been for a week. He remembered stalling\n it off for as long as he could and then the quiet satisfaction about a\n week before, when he had opened his small gear locker and transferred\n its meager belongings to the bag.\n\n\n He hadn't actually needed to pack, of course. In less than twenty-four\n hours he'd be back on Earth where he could drown himself in toothpaste\n and buy more tee shirts than he could wear in a lifetime. He could\n leave behind his shorts and socks and the outsize shirts he had\n inherited from—who was it? Driesbach?—of the First group. Dahl could\n probably use them or maybe one of the boys in the Third.\nBut it wasn't like going home unless you packed. It was part of the\n ritual, like marking off the last three weeks in pencil on the gray\n steel of the bulkhead beside his hammock. Just a few hours ago, when he\n woke up, he had made the last check mark and signed his name and the\n date. His signature was right beneath Dixon's.\n\n\n He frowned when he thought of Dixon and slid back the catch on the top\n of the bag and locked it. They should never have sent a kid like Dixon\n to the Moon.\n\n\n He had just locked the bag when he heard the rumble of the airlock and\n the soft hiss of air. Somebody had come back earlier than expected. He\n watched the inner door swing open and the spacesuited figure clump in\n and unscrew its helmet.\n\n\n Dahl. He had gone out to help Dowden on the Schmidt telescope. Maybe\n Dowden hadn't needed any help, with Bening along. Or more likely,\n considering the circumstances, Dahl wasn't much good at helping anybody\n today.\n\n\n Dahl stripped off his suit. His face was covered with light beads of\n sweat and his eyes were frightened.\n\n\n He moistened his lips slightly. \"Do—do you think they'll ever have\n relief ships up here more often than every eighteen months, Chap? I\n mean, considering the advance of—\"\n\n\n \"No,\" Chapman interrupted bluntly. \"I don't. Not at least for ten\n years. The fuel's too expensive and the trip's too hazardous. On\n freight charges alone you're worth your weight in platinum when they\n send you here. Even if it becomes cheaper, Bob, it won't come about\n so it will shorten stopover right away.\" He stopped, feeling a little\n sorry for Dahl. \"It won't be too bad. There'll be new men up here and\n you'll pass a lot of time getting to know them.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you see,\" Dahl started, \"that's why I came back early. I wanted\n to see you about stopover. It's that—well, I'll put it this way.\" He\n seemed to be groping for an easy way to say what he wanted to. \"I'm\n engaged back home. Really nice girl, Chap, you'd like her if you knew\n her.\" He fumbled in his pocket and found a photograph and put it on\n the desk. \"That's a picture of Alice, taken at a picnic we were on\n together.\" Chapman didn't look. \"She—we—expected to be married when\n I got back. I never told her about stopover, Chap. She thinks I'll be\n home tomorrow. I kept thinking, hoping, that maybe somehow—\"\n\n\n He was fumbling it badly, Chapman thought.\n\n\n \"You wanted to trade places with me, didn't you, Bob? You thought I\n might stay for stopover again, in your place?\"\n\n\n It hurt to look in Dahl's eyes. They were the eyes of a man who was\n trying desperately to stop what he was about to do, but just couldn't\n help himself.\n\n\n \"Well, yes, more or less. Oh, God, Chap, I know you want to go home!\n But I couldn't ask any of the others; you were the only one who could,\n the only one who was qualified!\"\nDahl looked as though he was going to be sick. Chapman tried to recall\n all he knew about him. Dahl, Robert. Good mathematician. Graduate from\n one of the Ivy League schools. Father was a manufacturer of stoves or\n something.\n\n\n It still didn't add, not quite. \"You know I don't like it here any more\n than you do,\" Chapman said slowly. \"I may have commitments at home,\n too. What made you think I would change my mind?\"\n\n\n Dahl took the plunge. \"Well, you see,\" he started eagerly, too far gone\n to remember such a thing as pride, \"you know my father's pretty well\n fixed. We would make it worth your while, Chap.\" He was feverish. \"It\n would mean eighteen more months, Chap, but they'd be well-paid months!\"\n\n\n Chapman felt tired. The good feeling he had about going home was slowly\n evaporating.\n\n\n \"If you have any report to make, I think you had better get at it,\"\n he cut in, keeping all the harshness he felt out of his voice. \"It'll\n be too late after the relief ship leaves. It'll be easier to give the\n captain your report than try to radio it back to Earth from here.\"\n\n\n He felt sorrier for Dahl than he could ever remember having felt for\n anybody. Long after going home, Dahl would remember this.\n\n\n It would eat at him like a cancer.\n\n\n Cowardice is the one thing for which no man ever forgives himself.\nDonley was eating a sandwich and looking out the port, so, naturally,\n he saw the ship first. \"Well, whaddya know!\" he shouted. \"We got\n company!\" He dashed for his suit. Dowden and Bening piled after him and\n all three started for the lock.\n\n\n Chapman was standing in front of it. \"Check your suits,\" he said\n softly. \"Just be sure to check.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, what the hell, Chap!\" Donley started angrily. Then he shut up and\n went over his suit. He got to his tank and turned white. Empty. It was\n only half a mile to the relief rocket, so somebody would probably have\n got to him in time, but.... He bit his lips and got a full tank.\n\n\n Chapman and Klein watched them dash across the pumice, making the\n tremendous leaps they used to read about in the Sunday supplements. The\n port of the rocket had opened and tiny figures were climbing down the\n ladder. The small figures from the bunker reached them and did a short\n jig of welcome. Then the figures linked arms and started back. Chapman\n noticed one—it was probably Donley—pat the ship affectionately before\n he started back.\nThey were in the lock and the air pumped in and then they were in\n the bunker, taking off their suits. The newcomers were impressed and\n solemn, very much aware of the tremendous responsibility that rested on\n their shoulders. Like Donley and Klein and the members of the Second\n group had been when they had landed. Like Chapman had been in the First.\n\n\n Donley and the others were all over them.\nHow was it back on Earth? Who had won the series? Was so-and-so still\n teaching at the university? What was the international situation?\n\n\n Was the sky still blue, was the grass still green, did the leaves still\n turn color in the autumn, did people still love and cry and were there\n still people who didn't know what an atom was and didn't give a damn?\n\n\n Chapman had gone through it all before. But was Ginny still Ginny?\n\n\n Some of the men in the Third had their luggage with them. One of\n them—a husky, red-faced kid named Williams—was opening a box about a\n foot square and six inches deep. Chapman watched him curiously.\n\n\n \"Well, I'll be damned!\" Klein said. \"Hey, guys, look what we've got\n here!\"\n\n\n Chapman and the others crowded around and suddenly Donley leaned over\n and took a deep breath. In the box, covering a thick layer of ordinary\n dirt, was a plot of grass. They looked at it, awed. Klein put out his\n hand and laid it on top of the grass.\n\n\n \"I like the feel of it,\" he said simply.\n\n\n Chapman cut off a single blade with his fingernail and put it between\n his lips. It had been years since he had seen grass and had the luxury\n of walking on it and lying on its cool thickness during those sultry\n summer nights when it was too hot to sleep indoors.\n\n\n Williams blushed. \"I thought we could spare a little water for it and\n maybe use the ultraviolet lamp on it some of the time. Couldn't help\n but bring it along; it seemed sort of like a symbol....\" He looked\n embarrassed.\n\n\n Chapman sympathized. If he had had any sense, he'd have tried to\n smuggle something like that up to the Moon instead of his phonograph.\n\n\n \"That's valuable grass,\" Dahl said sharply. \"Do you realize that at\n current freight rates up here, it's worth about ten dollars a blade?\"\n\n\n Williams looked stricken and somebody said, \"Oh, shut up, Dahl.\"\n\n\n One of the men separated from the group and came over to Chapman. He\n held out his hand and said, \"My name's Eberlein. Captain of the relief\n ship. I understand you're in charge here?\"\n\n\n Chapman nodded and shook hands. They hadn't had a captain on the First\n ship. Just a pilot and crew. Eberlein looked every inch a captain, too.\n Craggy face, gray hair, the firm chin of a man who was sure of himself.\n\n\n \"You might say I'm in charge here,\" Chapman said.\n\n\n \"Well, look, Mr. Chapman, is there any place where we can talk together\n privately?\"\n\n\n They walked over to one corner of the bunker. \"This is about as private\n as we can get, captain,\" Chapman said. \"What's on your mind?\"\nEberlein found a packing crate and made himself comfortable. He looked\n at Chapman.\n\n\n \"I've always wanted to meet the man who's spent more time here than\n anybody else,\" he began.\n\n\n \"I'm sure you wanted to see me for more reasons than just curiosity.\"\n\n\n Eberlein took out a pack of cigarets. \"Mind if I smoke?\"\n\n\n Chapman jerked a thumb toward Dahl. \"Ask him. He's in charge now.\"\n\n\n The captain didn't bother. He put the pack away. \"You know we have big\n plans for the station,\" he said.\n\n\n \"I hadn't heard of them.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes,\nbig plans\n. They're working on unmanned, open-side rockets\n now that could carry cargo and sheet steel for more bunkers like this.\n Enable us to enlarge the unit, have a series of bunkers all linked\n together. Make good laboratories and living quarters for you people.\"\n His eyes swept the room. \"Have a little privacy for a change.\"\n\n\n Chapman nodded. \"They could use a little privacy up here.\"\n\n\n The captain noticed the pronoun. \"Well, that's one of the reasons why\n I wanted to talk to you, Chapman. The Commission talked it over and\n they'd like to see you stay. They feel if they're going to enlarge it,\n add more bunkers and have more men up here, that a man of practical\n experience should be running things. They figure that you're the only\n man who's capable and who's had the experience.\"\n\n\n The captain vaguely felt the approach was all wrong.\n\n\n \"Is that all?\"\n\n\n Eberlein was ill at ease. \"Naturally you'd be paid well. I don't\n imagine any man would like being here all the time. They're prepared to\n double your salary—maybe even a bonus in addition—and let you have\n full charge. You'd be Director of the Luna Laboratories.\"\n\n\n All this and a title too, Chapman thought.\n\n\n \"That's it?\" Chapman asked.\n\n\n Eberlein frowned. \"Well, the Commission said they'd be willing to\n consider anything else you had in mind, if it was more money or....\"\n\n\n \"The answer is no,\" Chapman said. \"I'm not interested in more money\n for staying because I'm not interested in staying. Money can't buy it,\n captain. I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that you'd have to stay up here to\n appreciate that.\n\n\n \"Bob Dahl is staying for stopover. If there's something important about\n the project or impending changes, perhaps you'd better tell him before\n you go.\"\n\n\n He walked away.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What kind of life is on the moon in the story?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_1", "options": ["Water is collected for drinking", "Insects invade the bunkers", "Plants are scientifically sampled", "There is zero life"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Chapman feel about being relieved from his duty?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_2", "options": ["Proud to pass on the duty to such a worthy colleague", "Worried that the younger astronaut will ruin what he accomplished", "Slighted that a younger scientist was offered the role in his place", "Elated to finally be released"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many buildings are on the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_3", "options": ["One", "Two", "None", "Several"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Dahl and Chapman?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_4", "options": ["They were adversaries in university but came to support each other living together on the moon", "Friendly colleagues who went to university together to train for space", "Colleagues, but they are not friends", "They are brothers in-law and Dahl is eager to return to his wife"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the real reason the characters are stationed on the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_5", "options": ["It’s just a stopover on the way to Venus", "Spying on Venus for Earth", "Erecting a telescope", "Running scientific experiments"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who was the young boy reluctant to go into space?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_6", "options": ["The son of a moon astronaut", "A young physicist ", "Dahl at a younger age", "Chapman at a younger age"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What nations do the astronauts on the moon represent?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_7", "options": ["United Kingdom", "United States", "United States, Russia", "Unknown"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are the living conditions of the astronauts on the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_8", "options": ["It’s almost the same at their life on Earth", "They are able to grow food", "They have artificial gravity in their living quarters", "They sleep strapped into vertical beds"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many people live on the moon at any one time?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_9", "options": ["People are coming and going all the time", "About a dozen", "About half a dozen", "Several dozen"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What makes Chapman so qualified to train crews on the moon?", "question_unique_id": "51483_T4WIZ6A8_10", "options": ["His attention to scientific details", "His technical skills and leadership", "His lack of ties back home on Earth", "His mechanical background and military training"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/8/51483//51483-h//51483-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States 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{"article_id": "51461", "set_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "A Pail of Air", "year": 1950, "author": "Leiber, Fritz", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Families -- Fiction; Survival -- Fiction; Short stories", "article": "A Pail of Air\nBy FRITZ LEIBER\n\n\n Illustrated by ED ALEXANDER\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction December 1951.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe dark star passed, bringing with it\n \neternal night and turning history into\n \nincredible myth in a single generation!\nPa had sent me out to get an extra pail of air. I'd just about scooped\n it full and most of the warmth had leaked from my fingers when I saw\n the thing.\n\n\n You know, at first I thought it was a young lady. Yes, a beautiful\n young lady's face all glowing in the dark and looking at me from the\n fifth floor of the opposite apartment, which hereabouts is the floor\n just above the white blanket of frozen air. I'd never seen a live young\n lady before, except in the old magazines—Sis is just a kid and Ma is\n pretty sick and miserable—and it gave me such a start that I dropped\n the pail. Who wouldn't, knowing everyone on Earth was dead except Pa\n and Ma and Sis and you?\nEven at that, I don't suppose I should have been surprised. We all\n see things now and then. Ma has some pretty bad ones, to judge from\n the way she bugs her eyes at nothing and just screams and screams and\n huddles back against the blankets hanging around the Nest. Pa says it\n is natural we should react like that sometimes.\n\n\n When I'd recovered the pail and could look again at the opposite\n apartment, I got an idea of what Ma might be feeling at those times,\n for I saw it wasn't a young lady at all but simply a light—a tiny\n light that moved stealthily from window to window, just as if one\n of the cruel little stars had come down out of the airless sky to\n investigate why the Earth had gone away from the Sun, and maybe to hunt\n down something to torment or terrify, now that the Earth didn't have\n the Sun's protection.\n\n\n I tell you, the thought of it gave me the creeps. I just stood there\n shaking, and almost froze my feet and did frost my helmet so solid on\n the inside that I couldn't have seen the light even if it had come out\n of one of the windows to get me. Then I had the wit to go back inside.\n\n\n Pretty soon I was feeling my familiar way through the thirty or so\n blankets and rugs Pa has got hung around to slow down the escape of\n air from the Nest, and I wasn't quite so scared. I began to hear the\n tick-ticking of the clocks in the Nest and knew I was getting back\n into air, because there's no sound outside in the vacuum, of course.\n But my mind was still crawly and uneasy as I pushed through the last\n blankets—Pa's got them faced with aluminum foil to hold in the\n heat—and came into the Nest.\nLet me tell you about the Nest. It's low and snug, just room for the\n four of us and our things. The floor is covered with thick woolly\n rugs. Three of the sides are blankets, and the blankets roofing it\n touch Pa's head. He tells me it's inside a much bigger room, but I've\n never seen the real walls or ceiling.\n\n\n Against one of the blanket-walls is a big set of shelves, with tools\n and books and other stuff, and on top of it a whole row of clocks. Pa's\n very fussy about keeping them wound. He says we must never forget time,\n and without a sun or moon, that would be easy to do.\n\n\n The fourth wall has blankets all over except around the fireplace, in\n which there is a fire that must never go out. It keeps us from freezing\n and does a lot more besides. One of us must always watch it. Some of\n the clocks are alarm and we can use them to remind us. In the early\n days there was only Ma to take turns with Pa—I think of that when she\n gets difficult—but now there's me to help, and Sis too.\n\n\n It's Pa who is the chief guardian of the fire, though. I always think\n of him that way: a tall man sitting cross-legged, frowning anxiously\n at the fire, his lined face golden in its light, and every so often\n carefully placing on it a piece of coal from the big heap beside it. Pa\n tells me there used to be guardians of the fire sometimes in the very\n old days—vestal virgins, he calls them—although there was unfrozen\n air all around then and you didn't really need one.\n\n\n He was sitting just that way now, though he got up quick to take the\n pail from me and bawl me out for loitering—he'd spotted my frozen\n helmet right off. That roused Ma and she joined in picking on me. She's\n always trying to get the load off her feelings, Pa explains. He shut\n her up pretty fast. Sis let off a couple of silly squeals too.\n\n\n Pa handled the pail of air in a twist of cloth. Now that it was inside\n the Nest, you could really feel its coldness. It just seemed to suck\n the heat out of everything. Even the flames cringed away from it as Pa\n put it down close by the fire.\n\n\n Yet it's that glimmery white stuff in the pail that keeps us alive.\n It slowly melts and vanishes and refreshes the Nest and feeds the\n fire. The blankets keep it from escaping too fast. Pa'd like to seal\n the whole place, but he can't—building's too earthquake-twisted, and\n besides he has to leave the chimney open for smoke.\n\n\n Pa says air is tiny molecules that fly away like a flash if there isn't\n something to stop them. We have to watch sharp not to let the air run\n low. Pa always keeps a big reserve supply of it in buckets behind\n the first blankets, along with extra coal and cans of food and other\n things, such as pails of snow to melt for water. We have to go way down\n to the bottom floor for that stuff, which is a mean trip, and get it\n through a door to outside.\n\n\n You see, when the Earth got cold, all the water in the air froze first\n and made a blanket ten feet thick or so everywhere, and then down on\n top of that dropped the crystals of frozen air, making another white\n blanket sixty or seventy feet thick maybe.\n\n\n Of course, all the parts of the air didn't freeze and snow down at the\n same time.\n\n\n First to drop out was the carbon dioxide—when you're shoveling for\n water, you have to make sure you don't go too high and get any of that\n stuff mixed in, for it would put you to sleep, maybe for good, and make\n the fire go out. Next there's the nitrogen, which doesn't count one way\n or the other, though it's the biggest part of the blanket. On top of\n that and easy to get at, which is lucky for us, there's the oxygen that\n keeps us alive. Pa says we live better than kings ever did, breathing\n pure oxygen, but we're used to it and don't notice. Finally, at the\n very top, there's a slick of liquid helium, which is funny stuff.\n All of these gases in neat separate layers. Like a pussy caffay, Pa\n laughingly says, whatever that is.\nI was busting to tell them all about what I'd seen, and so as soon as\n I'd ducked out of my helmet and while I was still climbing out of my\n suit, I cut loose. Right away Ma got nervous and began making eyes at\n the entry-slit in the blankets and wringing her hands together—the\n hand where she'd lost three fingers from frostbite inside the good one,\n as usual. I could tell that Pa was annoyed at me scaring her and wanted\n to explain it all away quickly, yet could see I wasn't fooling.\n\n\n \"And you watched this light for some time, son?\" he asked when I\n finished.\n\n\n I hadn't said anything about first thinking it was a young lady's face.\n Somehow that part embarrassed me.\n\n\n \"Long enough for it to pass five windows and go to the next floor.\"\n\n\n \"And it didn't look like stray electricity or crawling liquid or\n starlight focused by a growing crystal, or anything like that?\"\n\n\n He wasn't just making up those ideas. Odd things happen in a world\n that's about as cold as can be, and just when you think matter\n would be frozen dead, it takes on a strange new life. A slimy stuff\n comes crawling toward the Nest, just like an animal snuffing for\n heat—that's the liquid helium. And once, when I was little, a bolt of\n lightning—not even Pa could figure where it came from—hit the nearby\n steeple and crawled up and down it for weeks, until the glow finally\n died.\n\n\n \"Not like anything I ever saw,\" I told him.\n\n\n He stood for a moment frowning. Then, \"I'll go out with you, and you\n show it to me,\" he said.\n\n\n Ma raised a howl at the idea of being left alone, and Sis joined\n in, too, but Pa quieted them. We started climbing into our outside\n clothes—mine had been warming by the fire. Pa made them. They have\n plastic headpieces that were once big double-duty transparent food\n cans, but they keep heat and air in and can replace the air for a\n little while, long enough for our trips for water and coal and food and\n so on.\n\n\n Ma started moaning again, \"I've always known there was something\n outside there, waiting to get us. I've felt it for years—something\n that's part of the cold and hates all warmth and wants to destroy the\n Nest. It's been watching us all this time, and now it's coming after\n us. It'll get you and then come for me. Don't go, Harry!\"\n\n\n Pa had everything on but his helmet. He knelt by the fireplace and\n reached in and shook the long metal rod that goes up the chimney and\n knocks off the ice that keeps trying to clog it. Once a week he goes up\n on the roof to check if it's working all right. That's our worst trip\n and Pa won't let me make it alone.\n\n\n \"Sis,\" Pa said quietly, \"come watch the fire. Keep an eye on the air,\n too. If it gets low or doesn't seem to be boiling fast enough, fetch\n another bucket from behind the blanket. But mind your hands. Use the\n cloth to pick up the bucket.\"\n\n\n Sis quit helping Ma be frightened and came over and did as she was\n told. Ma quieted down pretty suddenly, though her eyes were still kind\n of wild as she watched Pa fix on his helmet tight and pick up a pail\n and the two of us go out.\nPa led the way and I took hold of his belt. It's a funny thing, I'm not\n afraid to go by myself, but when Pa's along I always want to hold on to\n him. Habit, I guess, and then there's no denying that this time I was a\n bit scared.\n\n\n You see, it's this way. We know that everything is dead out there. Pa\n heard the last radio voices fade away years ago, and had seen some of\n the last folks die who weren't as lucky or well-protected as us. So we\n knew that if there was something groping around out there, it couldn't\n be anything human or friendly.\n\n\n Besides that, there's a feeling that comes with it always being night,\ncold\nnight. Pa says there used to be some of that feeling even in the\n old days, but then every morning the Sun would come and chase it away.\n I have to take his word for that, not ever remembering the Sun as being\n anything more than a big star. You see, I hadn't been born when the\n dark star snatched us away from the Sun, and by now it's dragged us out\n beyond the orbit of the planet Pluto, Pa says, and taking us farther\n out all the time.\n\n\n I found myself wondering whether there mightn't be something on the\n dark star that wanted us, and if that was why it had captured the\n Earth. Just then we came to the end of the corridor and I followed Pa\n out on the balcony.\n\n\n I don't know what the city looked like in the old days, but now it's\n beautiful. The starlight lets you see it pretty well—there's quite a\n bit of light in those steady points speckling the blackness above. (Pa\n says the stars used to twinkle once, but that was because there was\n air.) We are on a hill and the shimmery plain drops away from us and\n then flattens out, cut up into neat squares by the troughs that used to\n be streets. I sometimes make my mashed potatoes look like it, before I\n pour on the gravy.\n\n\n Some taller buildings push up out of the feathery plain, topped\n by rounded caps of air crystals, like the fur hood Ma wears, only\n whiter. On those buildings you can see the darker squares of windows,\n underlined by white dashes of air crystals. Some of them are on a\n slant, for many of the buildings are pretty badly twisted by the quakes\n and all the rest that happened when the dark star captured the Earth.\n\n\n Here and there a few icicles hang, water icicles from the first days\n of the cold, other icicles of frozen air that melted on the roofs and\n dripped and froze again. Sometimes one of those icicles will catch the\n light of a star and send it to you so brightly you think the star has\n swooped into the city. That was one of the things Pa had been thinking\n of when I told him about the light, but I had thought of it myself\n first and known it wasn't so.\n\n\n He touched his helmet to mine so we could talk easier and he asked me\n to point out the windows to him. But there wasn't any light moving\n around inside them now, or anywhere else. To my surprise, Pa didn't\n bawl me out and tell me I'd been seeing things. He looked all around\n quite a while after filling his pail, and just as we were going inside\n he whipped around without warning, as if to take some peeping thing\n off guard.\n\n\n I could feel it, too. The old peace was gone. There was something\n lurking out there, watching, waiting, getting ready.\n\n\n Inside, he said to me, touching helmets, \"If you see something like\n that again, son, don't tell the others. Your Ma's sort of nervous these\n days and we owe her all the feeling of safety we can give her. Once—it\n was when your sister was born—I was ready to give up and die, but your\n Mother kept me trying. Another time she kept the fire going a whole\n week all by herself when I was sick. Nursed me and took care of the two\n of you, too.\"\n\"You know that game we sometimes play, sitting in a square in the Nest,\n tossing a ball around? Courage is like a ball, son. A person can hold\n it only so long, and then he's got to toss it to someone else. When\n it's tossed your way, you've got to catch it and hold it tight—and\n hope there'll be someone else to toss it to when you get tired of being\n brave.\"\n\n\n His talking to me that way made me feel grown-up and good. But it\n didn't wipe away the thing outside from the back of my mind—or the\n fact that Pa took it seriously.\nIt's hard to hide your feelings about such a thing. When we got back in\n the Nest and took off our outside clothes, Pa laughed about it all and\n told them it was nothing and kidded me for having such an imagination,\n but his words fell flat. He didn't convince Ma and Sis any more than\n he did me. It looked for a minute like we were all fumbling the\n courage-ball. Something had to be done, and almost before I knew what\n I was going to say, I heard myself asking Pa to tell us about the old\n days, and how it all happened.\n\n\n He sometimes doesn't mind telling that story, and Sis and I sure like\n to listen to it, and he got my idea. So we were all settled around the\n fire in a wink, and Ma pushed up some cans to thaw for supper, and Pa\n began. Before he did, though, I noticed him casually get a hammer from\n the shelf and lay it down beside him.\n\n\n It was the same old story as always—I think I could recite the main\n thread of it in my sleep—though Pa always puts in a new detail or two\n and keeps improving it in spots.\n\n\n He told us how the Earth had been swinging around the Sun ever so\n steady and warm, and the people on it fixing to make money and wars and\n have a good time and get power and treat each other right or wrong,\n when without warning there comes charging out of space this dead star,\n this burned out sun, and upsets everything.\n\n\n You know, I find it hard to believe in the way those people felt,\n any more than I can believe in the swarming number of them. Imagine\n people getting ready for the horrible sort of war they were cooking up.\n Wanting it even, or at least wishing it were over so as to end their\n nervousness. As if all folks didn't have to hang together and pool\n every bit of warmth just to keep alive. And how can they have hoped to\n end danger, any more than we can hope to end the cold?\n\n\n Sometimes I think Pa exaggerates and makes things out too black. He's\n cross with us once in a while and was probably cross with all those\n folks. Still, some of the things I read in the old magazines sound\n pretty wild. He may be right.\nThe dark star, as Pa went on telling it, rushed in pretty fast and\n there wasn't much time to get ready. At the beginning they tried\n to keep it a secret from most people, but then the truth came out,\n what with the earthquakes and floods—imagine, oceans of\nunfrozen\nwater!—and people seeing stars blotted out by something on a clear\n night. First off they thought it would hit the Sun, and then they\n thought it would hit the Earth. There was even the start of a rush to\n get to a place called China, because people thought the star would hit\n on the other side. But then they found it wasn't going to hit either\n side, but was going to come very close to the Earth.\n\n\n Most of the other planets were on the other side of the Sun and didn't\n get involved. The Sun and the newcomer fought over the Earth for a\n little while—pulling it this way and that, like two dogs growling\n over a bone, Pa described it this time—and then the newcomer won and\n carried us off. The Sun got a consolation prize, though. At the last\n minute he managed to hold on to the Moon.\n\n\n That was the time of the monster earthquakes and floods, twenty times\n worse than anything before. It was also the time of the Big Jerk, as Pa\n calls it, when all Earth got yanked suddenly, just as Pa has done to\n me once or twice, grabbing me by the collar to do it, when I've been\n sitting too far from the fire.\nYou see, the dark star was going through space faster than the Sun, and\n in the opposite direction, and it had to wrench the world considerably\n in order to take it away.\n\n\n The Big Jerk didn't last long. It was over as soon as the Earth\n was settled down in its new orbit around the dark star. But it was\n pretty terrible while it lasted. Pa says that all sorts of cliffs and\n buildings toppled, oceans slopped over, swamps and sandy deserts gave\n great sliding surges that buried nearby lands. Earth was almost jerked\n out of its atmosphere blanket and the air got so thin in spots that\n people keeled over and fainted—though of course, at the same time,\n they were getting knocked down by the Big Jerk and maybe their bones\n broke or skulls cracked.\n\n\n We've often asked Pa how people acted during that time, whether they\n were scared or brave or crazy or stunned, or all four, but he's sort of\n leery of the subject, and he was again tonight. He says he was mostly\n too busy to notice.\n\n\n You see, Pa and some scientist friends of his had figured out part of\n what was going to happen—they'd known we'd get captured and our air\n would freeze—and they'd been working like mad to fix up a place with\n airtight walls and doors, and insulation against the cold, and big\n supplies of food and fuel and water and bottled air. But the place\n got smashed in the last earthquakes and all Pa's friends were killed\n then and in the Big Jerk. So he had to start over and throw the Nest\n together quick without any advantages, just using any stuff he could\n lay his hands on.\n\n\n I guess he's telling pretty much the truth when he says he didn't have\n any time to keep an eye on how other folks behaved, either then or\n in the Big Freeze that followed—followed very quick, you know, both\n because the dark star was pulling us away very fast and because Earth's\n rotation had been slowed in the tug-of-war, so that the nights were ten\n old nights long.\n\n\n Still, I've got an idea of some of the things that happened from the\n frozen folk I've seen, a few of them in other rooms in our building,\n others clustered around the furnaces in the basements where we go for\n coal.\n\n\n In one of the rooms, an old man sits stiff in a chair, with an arm and\n a leg in splints. In another, a man and woman are huddled together in\n a bed with heaps of covers over them. You can just see their heads\n peeking out, close together. And in another a beautiful young lady is\n sitting with a pile of wraps huddled around her, looking hopefully\n toward the door, as if waiting for someone who never came back with\n warmth and food. They're all still and stiff as statues, of course, but\n just like life.\n\n\n Pa showed them to me once in quick winks of his flashlight, when\n he still had a fair supply of batteries and could afford to waste\n a little light. They scared me pretty bad and made my heart pound,\n especially the young lady.\nNow, with Pa telling his story for the umpteenth time to take our minds\n off another scare, I got to thinking of the frozen folk again. All of a\n sudden I got an idea that scared me worse than anything yet. You see,\n I'd just remembered the face I'd thought I'd seen in the window. I'd\n forgotten about that on account of trying to hide it from the others.\n\n\n What, I asked myself, if the frozen folk were coming to life? What\n if they were like the liquid helium that got a new lease on life\n and started crawling toward the heat just when you thought its\n molecules ought to freeze solid forever? Or like the electricity that\n moves endlessly when it's just about as cold as that? What if the\n ever-growing cold, with the temperature creeping down the last few\n degrees to the last zero, had mysteriously wakened the frozen folk to\n life—not warm-blooded life, but something icy and horrible?\n\n\n That was a worse idea than the one about something coming down from the\n dark star to get us.\n\n\n Or maybe, I thought, both ideas might be true. Something coming down\n from the dark star and making the frozen folk move, using them to do\n its work. That would fit with both things I'd seen—the beautiful young\n lady and the moving, starlike light.\n\n\n The frozen folk with minds from the dark star behind their unwinking\n eyes, creeping, crawling, snuffing their way, following the heat to the\n Nest.\n\n\n I tell you, that thought gave me a very bad turn and I wanted very\n badly to tell the others my fears, but I remembered what Pa had said\n and clenched my teeth and didn't speak.\n\n\n We were all sitting very still. Even the fire was burning silently.\n There was just the sound of Pa's voice and the clocks.\n\n\n And then, from beyond the blankets, I thought I heard a tiny noise. My\n skin tightened all over me.\n\n\n Pa was telling about the early years in the Nest and had come to the\n place where he philosophizes.\n\n\n \"So I asked myself then,\" he said, \"what's the use of going on? What's\n the use of dragging it out for a few years? Why prolong a doomed\n existence of hard work and cold and loneliness? The human race is done.\n The Earth is done. Why not give up, I asked myself—and all of a sudden\n I got the answer.\"\n\n\n Again I heard the noise, louder this time, a kind of uncertain,\n shuffling tread, coming closer. I couldn't breathe.\n\n\n \"Life's always been a business of working hard and fighting the cold,\"\n Pa was saying. \"The earth's always been a lonely place, millions of\n miles from the next planet. And no matter how long the human race might\n have lived, the end would have come some night. Those things don't\n matter. What matters is that life is good. It has a lovely texture,\n like some rich cloth or fur, or the petals of flowers—you've seen\n pictures of those, but I can't describe how they feel—or the fire's\n glow. It makes everything else worth while. And that's as true for the\n last man as the first.\"\n\n\n And still the steps kept shuffling closer. It seemed to me that the\n inmost blanket trembled and bulged a little. Just as if they were\n burned into my imagination, I kept seeing those peering, frozen eyes.\n\n\n \"So right then and there,\" Pa went on, and now I could tell that he\n heard the steps, too, and was talking loud so we maybe wouldn't hear\n them, \"right then and there I told myself that I was going on as if\n we had all eternity ahead of us. I'd have children and teach them all\n I could. I'd get them to read books. I'd plan for the future, try to\n enlarge and seal the Nest. I'd do what I could to keep everything\n beautiful and growing. I'd keep alive my feeling of wonder even at the\n cold and the dark and the distant stars.\"\n\n\n But then the blanket actually did move and lift. And there was a bright\n light somewhere behind it. Pa's voice stopped and his eyes turned to\n the widening slit and his hand went out until it touched and gripped\n the handle of the hammer beside him.\nIn through the blanket stepped the beautiful young lady. She stood\n there looking at us the strangest way, and she carried something\n bright and unwinking in her hand. And two other faces peered over her\n shoulders—men's faces, white and staring.\n\n\n Well, my heart couldn't have been stopped for more than four or five\n beats before I realized she was wearing a suit and helmet like Pa's\n homemade ones, only fancier, and that the men were, too—and that the\n frozen folk certainly wouldn't be wearing those. Also, I noticed that\n the bright thing in her hand was just a kind of flashlight.\n\n\n The silence kept on while I swallowed hard a couple of times, and after\n that there was all sorts of jabbering and commotion.\n\n\n They were simply people, you see. We hadn't been the only ones to\n survive; we'd just thought so, for natural enough reasons. These three\n people had survived, and quite a few others with them. And when we\n found out\nhow\nthey'd survived, Pa let out the biggest whoop of joy.\n\n\n They were from Los Alamos and they were getting their heat and power\n from atomic energy. Just using the uranium and plutonium intended\n for bombs, they had enough to go on for thousands of years. They had\n a regular little airtight city, with air-locks and all. They even\n generated electric light and grew plants and animals by it. (At this Pa\n let out a second whoop, waking Ma from her faint.)\n\n\n But if we were flabbergasted at them, they were double-flabbergasted at\n us.\n\n\n One of the men kept saying, \"But it's impossible, I tell you. You\n can't maintain an air supply without hermetic sealing. It's simply\n impossible.\"\n\n\n That was after he had got his helmet off and was using our air.\n Meanwhile, the young lady kept looking around at us as if we were\n saints, and telling us we'd done something amazing, and suddenly she\n broke down and cried.\n\n\n They'd been scouting around for survivors, but they never expected to\n find any in a place like this. They had rocket ships at Los Alamos and\n plenty of chemical fuel. As for liquid oxygen, all you had to do was\n go out and shovel the air blanket at the top\nlevel\n. So after they'd\n got things going smoothly at Los Alamos, which had taken years, they'd\n decided to make some trips to likely places where there might be other\n survivors. No good trying long-distance radio signals, of course, since\n there was no atmosphere to carry them around the curve of the Earth.\n\n\n Well, they'd found other colonies at Argonne and Brookhaven and way\n around the world at Harwell and Tanna Tuva. And now they'd been giving\n our city a look, not really expecting to find anything. But they had an\n instrument that noticed the faintest heat waves and it had told them\n there was something warm down here, so they'd landed to investigate.\n Of course we hadn't heard them land, since there was no air to carry\n the sound, and they'd had to investigate around quite a while before\n finding us. Their instruments had given them a wrong steer and they'd\n wasted some time in the building across the street.\nBy now, all five adults were talking like sixty. Pa was demonstrating\n to the men how he worked the fire and got rid of the ice in the chimney\n and all that. Ma had perked up wonderfully and was showing the young\n lady her cooking and sewing stuff, and even asking about how the women\n dressed at Los Alamos. The strangers marveled at everything and praised\n it to the skies. I could tell from the way they wrinkled their noses\n that they found the Nest a bit smelly, but they never mentioned that at\n all and just asked bushels of questions.\n\n\n In fact, there was so much talking and excitement that Pa forgot about\n things, and it wasn't until they were all getting groggy that he looked\n and found the air had all boiled away in the pail. He got another\n bucket of air quick from behind the blankets. Of course that started\n them all laughing and jabbering again. The newcomers even got a little\n drunk. They weren't used to so much oxygen.\n\n\n Funny thing, though—I didn't do much talking at all and Sis hung on\n to Ma all the time and hid her face when anybody looked at her. I felt\n pretty uncomfortable and disturbed myself, even about the young lady.\n Glimpsing her outside there, I'd had all sorts of mushy thoughts, but\n now I was just embarrassed and scared of her, even though she tried to\n be nice as anything to me.\n\n\n I sort of wished they'd all quit crowding the Nest and let us be alone\n and get our feelings straightened out.\n\n\n And when the newcomers began to talk about our all going to Los Alamos,\n as if that were taken for granted, I could see that something of the\n same feeling struck Pa and Ma, too. Pa got very silent all of a sudden\n and Ma kept telling the young lady, \"But I wouldn't know how to act\n there and I haven't any clothes.\"\n\n\n The strangers were puzzled like anything at first, but then they got\n the idea. As Pa kept saying, \"It just doesn't seem right to let this\n fire go out.\"\nWell, the strangers are gone, but they're coming back. It hasn't been\n decided yet just what will happen. Maybe the Nest will be kept up as\n what one of the strangers called a \"survival school.\" Or maybe we will\n join the pioneers who are going to try to establish a new colony at the\n uranium mines at Great Slave Lake or in the Congo.\n\n\n Of course, now that the strangers are gone, I've been thinking a\n lot about Los Alamos and those other tremendous colonies. I have a\n hankering to see them for myself.\n\n\n You ask me, Pa wants to see them, too. He's been getting pretty\n thoughtful, watching Ma and Sis perk up.\n\n\n \"It's different, now that we know others are alive,\" he explains to me.\n \"Your mother doesn't feel so hopeless any more. Neither do I, for that\n matter, not having to carry the whole responsibility for keeping the\n human race going, so to speak. It scares a person.\"\n\n\n I looked around at the blanket walls and the fire and the pails of air\n boiling away and Ma and Sis sleeping in the warmth and the flickering\n light.\n\n\n \"It's not going to be easy to leave the Nest,\" I said, wanting to cry,\n kind of. \"It's so small and there's just the four of us. I get scared\n at the idea of big places and a lot of strangers.\"\n\n\n He nodded and put another piece of coal on the fire. Then he looked at\n the little pile and grinned suddenly and put a couple of handfuls on,\n just as if it was one of our birthdays or Christmas.\n\n\n \"You'll quickly get over that feeling son,\" he said. \"The trouble with\n the world was that it kept getting smaller and smaller, till it ended\n with just the Nest. Now it'll be good to have a real huge world again,\n the way it was in the beginning.\"\n\n\n I guess he's right. You think the beautiful young lady will wait for me\n till I grow up? I'll be twenty in only ten years.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why couldn’t the search party find the family with traditional communications?", "question_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16_1", "options": ["Signals are disrupted by the electromagnetic events of the dark star", "The family couldn’t hear them because they were underground", "The communication devices don’t work in the cold", "There is no medium to carry signals"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the Nest built inside of?", "question_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16_2", "options": ["A train station", "An office building", "It stands alone like a tent", "It’s not known"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What do humans wear outside on the planet?", "question_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16_3", "options": ["They can travel outside without any special gear", "Winter clothes and simple clear helmets", "They never travel outside, only in underground corridors", "Sophisticated astronaut suits from Pa’s old work"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many times did the son leave the Nest in the story?", "question_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16_4", "options": ["Four", "Two", "One", "Three"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Pa and his son?", "question_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16_5", "options": ["He encourages him to keep up their lifestyle in the Nest", "He trusts him and tasks him with protecting the family too", "He is not yet sure if his son is ready to care for the family", "They are not as close as they might have been before the hardships of the planet freezing"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Ma and Pa?", "question_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16_6", "options": ["They devotedly support each other", "They hardly speak anymore due to the hardships of survival", "They fight terribly at times", "Pa is like a caregiver for Ma given her affliction"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the Big Jerk?", "question_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16_7", "options": ["The event that changed the orbit of Earth to a new star", "The time period before the Earth started orbiting the dark star", "A term for the sun that Pa uses to entertain the kids", "The process of the Earth and moon leaving the solar system"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are the ways that the family sustains themselves?", "question_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16_8", "options": ["Drinking water from under the ice of a frozen lake", "Eating the people that froze in the city", "Sheltering next to a nuclear reactor", "Breathing pure oxygen"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the attitude of the search party?", "question_unique_id": "51461_YZX4JZ16_9", "options": ["They are surprised to find the family alive", "They are elated to reunite with their family members", "They are downtrodden because they haven’t found any survivors outside of their fortified city", "They have found others very nearby the Nest and they were hopeful there were others like the family there"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/6/51461//51461-h//51461-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "50818", "set_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "How to Make Friends", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; Loneliness -- Fiction; PS; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction", "article": "HOW TO MAKE FRIENDS\nBy JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by WEST\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine October 1962.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nEvery lonely man tries to make friends.\n\n Manet just didn't know when to stop!\nWilliam Manet was alone.\n\n\n In the beginning, he had seen many advantages to being alone. It would\n give him an unprecedented opportunity to once and for all correlate\n loneliness to the point of madness, to see how long it would take him\n to start slavering and clawing the pin-ups from the magazines, to begin\n teaching himself classes in philosophy consisting of interminable\n lectures to a bored and captive audience of one.\n\n\n He would be able to measure the qualities of peace and decide whether\n it was really better than war, he would be able to get as fat and as\n dirty as he liked, he would be able to live more like an animal and\n think more like a god than any man for generations.\n\n\n But after a shorter time than he expected, it all got to be a tearing\n bore. Even the waiting to go crazy part of it.\n\n\n Not that he was going to have any great long wait of it. He was already\n talking to himself, making verbal notes for his lectures, and he had\n cut out a picture of Annie Oakley from an old book. He tacked it up and\n winked at it whenever he passed that way.\n\n\n Lately she was winking back at him.\n\n\n Loneliness was a physical weight on his skull. It peeled the flesh from\n his arms and legs and sandpapered his self-pity to a fine sensitivity.\n\n\n No one on Earth was as lonely as William Manet, and even William Manet\n could only be this lonely on Mars.\n\n\n Manet was Atmosphere Seeder Station 131-47's own human.\n\n\n All Manet had to do was sit in the beating aluminum heart in the middle\n of the chalk desert and stare out, chin cupped in hands, at the flat,\n flat pavement of dirty talcum, at the stars gleaming as hard in the\n black sky as a starlet's capped teeth ... stars two of which were moons\n and one of which was Earth. He had to do nothing else. The whole\n gimcrack was cybernetically controlled, entirely automatic. No one was\n needed here—no human being, at least.\n\n\n The Workers' Union was a pretty small pressure group, but it didn't\n take much to pressure the Assembly. Featherbedding had been carefully\n specified, including an Overseer for each of the Seeders to honeycomb\n Mars, to prepare its atmosphere for colonization.\n\n\n They didn't give tests to find well-balanced, well-integrated people\n for the job. Well-balanced, well-integrated men weren't going to\n isolate themselves in a useless job. They got, instead, William Manet\n and his fellows.\n\n\n The Overseers were to stay as long as the job required. Passenger fare\n to Mars was about one billion dollars. They weren't providing commuter\n service for night shifts. They weren't providing accommodations\n for couples when the law specified only one occupant. They weren't\n providing fuel (at fifty million dollars a gallon) for visits between\n the various Overseers. They weren't very providential.\n\n\n But it was two hundred thousand a year in salary, and it offered\n wonderful opportunities.\n\n\n It gave William Manet an opportunity to think he saw a spaceship making\n a tailfirst landing on the table of the desert, its tail burning as\n bright as envy.\nManet suspected hallucination, but in an existence with all the pallid\n dispassion of a requited love he was happy to welcome dementia.\n Sometimes he even manufactured it. Sometimes he would run through the\n arteries of the factory and play that it had suddenly gone mad hating\n human beings, and was about to close down its bulkheads on him as sure\n as the Engineers' Thumb and bale up the pressure-dehydrated digest,\n making so much stall flooring of him. He ran until he dropped with a\n kind of climaxing release of terror.\n\n\n So Manet put on the pressure suit he had been given because he would\n never need it, and marched out to meet the visiting spaceship.\n\n\n He wasn't quite clear how he came from walking effortlessly across\n the Martian plain that had all the distance-perpetuating qualities of\n a kid's crank movie machine to the comfortable interior of a strange\n cabin. Not a ship's cabin but a Northwoods cabin.\n\n\n The black and orange Hallowe'en log charring in the slate stone\n fireplace seemed real. So did the lean man with the smiling mustache\n painted with the random designs of the fire, standing before the\n horizontal pattern of chinked wall.\n\n\n \"Need a fresher?\" the host inquired.\n\n\n Manet's eyes wondered down to heavy water tumbler full of rich, amber\n whiskey full of sparks from the hearth. He stirred himself in the\n comfortingly warm leather chair. \"No, no, I'm\nfine\n.\" He let the word\n hang there for examination. \"Pardon me, but could you tell me just what\n place this is?\"\n\n\n The host shrugged. It was the only word for it. \"Whatever place you\n choose it to be, so long as you're with Trader Tom. 'Service,' that's\n my motto. It is a way of life with me.\"\n\n\n \"Trader Tom? Service?\"\n\n\n \"Yes! That's it exactly. It's\nme\nexactly. Trader Tom Service—Serving\n the Wants of the Spaceman Between the Stars. Of course, 'stars' is\n poetic. Any point of light in the sky in a star. We service the\n planets.\"\n\n\n Manet took the tumbler in both hands and drank. It was good whiskey,\n immensely powerful. \"The government wouldn't pay for somebody serving\n the wants of spacemen,\" he exploded.\n\n\n \"Ah,\" Trader Tom said, cautionary. He moved nearer the fire and warmed\n his hands and buttocks. \"Ah, but I am not a\ngovernment\nservice. I\n represent free enterprise.\"\n\"Nonsense,\" Manet said. \"No group of private individuals can build a\n spaceship. It takes a combine of nations.\"\n\n\n \"But remember only that businessmen are reactionary. It's well-known.\n Ask anyone on the street. Businessmen are reactionary even beyond the\n capitalistic system. Money is a fiction that exists mostly on paper.\n They play along on paper to get paper things, but to get real things\n they can forego the papers. Comprehend,\nmon ami\n? My businessmen\n have gone back to the barter system. Between them, they have the raw\n materials, the trained men, the man-hours to make a spaceship. So they\n make it. Damned reactionaries, all of my principals.\"\n\n\n \"I don't believe you,\" Manet stated flatly. His conversation had grown\n blunt with disuse. \"What possible profit could your principals turn\n from running a trading ship among scattered exploration posts on the\n planets? What could you give us that a benevolent government doesn't\n already supply us with? And if there was anything, how could we pay for\n it? My year's salary wouldn't cover the transportation costs of this\n glass of whiskey.\"\n\n\n \"Do you find it good whiskey?\"\n\n\n \"Very good.\"\n\n\n \"Excellent?\"\n\n\n \"Excellent, if you prefer.\"\n\n\n \"I only meant—but never mind. We give you what you want. As for\n paying for it—why, forget about the payment. You may apply for a\n Trader Tom Credit Card.\"\n\n\n \"And I could buy anything that I wanted with it?\" Manet demanded.\n \"That's absurd. I'd never be able to pay for it.\"\n\n\n \"That's it precisely!\" Trader Tom said with enthusiasm. \"You\nnever\npay for it. Charges are merely deducted from your\nestate\n.\"\n\n\n \"But I may leave no estate!\"\n\n\n Trader Tom demonstrated his peculiar shrug. \"All businesses operate on\n a certain margin of risk. That is our worry.\"\nManet finished the mellow whiskey and looked into the glass. It seemed\n to have been polished clean. \"What do you have to offer?\"\n\n\n \"Whatever you want?\"\n\n\n Irritably, \"How do I know what I want until I know what you have?\"\n\n\n \"You know.\"\n\n\n \"I know? All right, I know. You don't have it for sale.\"\n\n\n \"Old chap, understand if you please that I do not only\nsell\n. I\n am a trader—Trader Tom. I trade with many parties. There are, for\n example ... extraterrestrials.\"\n\n\n \"Folk legend!\"\n\n\n \"On the contrary,\nmon cher\n, the only reality it lacks is political\n reality. The Assembly could no longer justify their disposition of\n the cosmos if it were known they were dealing confiscation without\n representation. Come, tell me what you want.\"\n\n\n Manet gave in to it. \"I want to be not alone,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Of course,\" Trader Tom replied, \"I suspected. It is not so unusual,\n you know. Sign here. And here. Two copies. This is yours. Thank you so\n much.\"\n\n\n Manet handed back the pen and stared at the laminated card in his hand.\nWhen he looked up from the card, Manet saw the box. Trader Tom was\n pushing it across the floor towards him.\n\n\n The box had the general dimensions of a coffin, but it wasn't\n wood—only brightly illustrated cardboard. There was a large four-color\n picture on the lid showing men, women and children moving through a\n busy city street. The red and blue letters said:\nLIFO\nThe Socialization Kit\n\"It is commercialized,\" Trader Tom admitted with no little chagrin.\n \"It is presented to appeal to a twelve-year-old child, an erotic,\n aggressive twelve-year-old, the typical sensie goer—but that is\n reality. It offends men of good taste like ourselves, yet sometimes it\n approaches being art. We must accept it.\"\n\n\n \"What's the cost?\" Manet asked. \"Before I accept it, I have to know the\n charges.\"\n\n\n \"You never know the cost. Only your executor knows that. It's the\n Trader Tom plan.\"\n\n\n \"Well, is it guaranteed?\"\n\n\n \"There are no guarantees,\" Trader Tom admitted. \"But I've never had any\n complaints yet.\"\n\n\n \"Suppose I'm the first?\" Manet suggested reasonably.\n\n\n \"You won't be,\" Trader Tom said. \"I won't pass this way again.\"\nManet didn't open the box. He let it fade quietly in the filtered but\n still brilliant sunlight near a transparent wall.\n\n\n Manet puttered around the spawning monster, trying to brush the copper\n taste of the station out of his mouth in the mornings, talking to\n himself, winking at Annie Oakley, and waiting to go mad.\n\n\n Finally, Manet woke up one morning. He lay in the sheets of his bunk,\n suppressing the urge to go wash his hands, and came at last to the\n conclusion that, after all the delay, he was mad.\n\n\n So he went to open the box.\n\n\n The cardboard lid seemed to have become both brittle and rotten. It\n crumbled as easily as ideals. But Manet was old enough to remember the\n boxes Japanese toys came in when he was a boy, and was not alarmed.\n\n\n The contents were such a glorious pile of junk, of bottles from old\n chemistry sets, of pieces from old Erector sets, of nameless things and\n unremembered antiques from neglected places, that it seemed too good to\n have been assembled commercially. It was the collection of lifetime.\n\n\n On top of everything was a paperbound book, the size of the\nReader's\n Digest\n, covered in rippled gray flexiboard. The title was stamped in\n black on the spine and cover:\nThe Making of Friends\n.\n\n\n Manet opened the book and, turning one blank page, found the title\n in larger print and slightly amplified:\nThe Making of Friends and\n Others\n. There was no author listed. A further line of information\n stated: \"A Manual for Lifo, The Socialization Kit.\" At the bottom of\n the title page, the publisher was identified as: LIFO KIT CO., LTD.,\n SYRACUSE.\n\n\n The unnumbered first chapter was headed\nYour First Friend\n.\n\n\n Before you go further, first find the\nModifier\nin your kit. This\n is\nvital\n.\n\n\n He quickly riffled through the pages.\nOther Friends, Authority, A\n Companion\n.... Then\nThe Final Model\n. Manet tried to flip past this\n section, but the pages after the sheet labeled\nThe Final Model\nwere\n stuck together. More than stuck. There was a thick slab of plastic in\n the back of the book. The edges were ridged as if there were pages to\n this section, but they could only be the tracks of lame ants.\n\n\n Manet flipped back to page one.\n\n\n First find the\nModifier\nin your kit. This is\nvital\nto your entire\n experiment in socialization. The\nModifier is Part #A-1\non the Master\n Chart.\n\n\n He prowled through the box looking for some kind of a chart. There\n was nothing that looked like a chart inside. He retrieved the lid and\n looked at its inside. Nothing. He tipped the box and looked at its\n outside. Not a thing. There was always something missing from kits.\n Maybe even the\nModifier\nitself.\n\n\n He read on, and probed and scattered the parts in the long box. He\n studied the manual intently and groped out with his free hand.\n\n\n The toe bone was connected to the foot bone....\nThe Red King sat smugly in his diagonal corner.\n\n\n The Black King stood two places away, his top half tipsy in frustration.\n\n\n The Red King crabbed sideways one square.\n\n\n The Black King pounced forward one space.\n\n\n The Red King advanced backwards to face the enemy.\n\n\n The Black King shuffled sideways.\n\n\n The Red King followed....\n\n\n Uselessly.\n\n\n \"Tie game,\" Ronald said.\n\n\n \"Tie game,\" Manet said.\n\n\n \"Let's talk,\" Ronald said cheerfully. He was always cheerful.\n\n\n Cheerfulness was a personality trait Manet had thumbed out for him.\n Cheerful. Submissive. Co-operative. Manet had selected these factors in\n order to make Ronald as different a person from himself as possible.\n\n\n \"The Korean-American War was the greatest of all wars,\" Ronald said\n pontifically.\n\n\n \"Only in the air,\" Manet corrected him.\n\n\n Intelligence was one of the factors Manet had punched to suppress.\n Intelligence. Aggressiveness. Sense of perfection. Ronald couldn't know\n any more than Manet, but he could (and did) know less. He had seen to\n that when his own encephalograph matrix had programmed Ronald's feeder.\n\n\n \"There were no dogfights in Korea,\" Ronald said.\n\n\n \"I know.\"\n\n\n \"The dogfight was a combat of hundreds of planes in a tight area, the\n last of which took place near the end of the First World War. The\n aerial duel, sometimes inaccurately referred to as a 'dogfight' was not\n seen in Korea either. The pilots at supersonic speeds only had time for\n single passes at the enemy. Still, I believe, contrary to all experts,\n that this took greater skill, man more wedded to machine, than the\n leisurely combats of World War One.\"\n\n\n \"I know.\"\n\n\n \"Daniel Boone was still a crack shot at eight-five. He was said to be\n warm, sincere, modest, truthful, respected and rheumatic.\"\n\n\n \"I know.\"\nManet knew it all. He had heard it all before.\n\n\n He was so damned sick of hearing about Korean air battles, Daniel\n Boone, the literary qualities of ancient sports fiction magazines,\n the painting of Norman Rockwell, New York swing,\nad nauseum\n. What a\n narrow band of interests! With the whole universe to explore in thought\n and concept, why did he have to be trapped with such an unoriginal\n human being?\n\n\n Of course, Ronald wasn't an original human being. He was a copy.\n\n\n Manet had been interested in the Fabulous Forties—Lt. \"Hoot\" Gibson,\n Sam Merwin tennis stories,\nSaturday Evening Post\ncovers—when he had\n first learned of them, and he had learned all about them. He had firm\n opinions on all these.\n\n\n He yearned for someone to challenge him—to say that\nDime Sports\nhad\n been nothing but a cheap yellow rag and, why,\nSewanee Review\n, there\n had been a magazine for you.\n\n\n Manet's only consolidation was that Ronald's tastes were lower than his\n own. He patriotically insisted that the American Sabre Jet was superior\n to the Mig. He maintained with a straight face that Tommy Dorsey was a\n better band man than Benny Goodman. Ronald was a terrific jerk.\n\n\n \"Ronald,\" Manet said, \"you are a terrific jerk.\"\n\n\n Ronald leaped up immediately and led with his right.\n\n\n Manet blocked it deftly and threw a right cross.\n\n\n Ronald blocked it deftly, and drove in a right to the navel.\n\n\n The two men separated and, puffing like steam locomotives passing the\n diesel works, closed again.\n\n\n Ronald leaped forward and led with his right.\n\n\n Manet stepped inside the swing and lifted an uppercut to the ledge of\n Ronald's jaw.\n\n\n Ronald pinwheeled to the floor.\n\n\n He lifted his bruised head from the deck and worked his reddened mouth.\n \"Had enough?\" he asked Manet.\n\n\n Manet dropped his fists to his sides and turned away. \"Yes.\"\n\n\n Ronald hopped up lightly. \"Another checkers, Billy Boy?\"\n\n\n \"No.\"\n\n\n \"Okay. Anything you want, William, old conquerer.\"\n\n\n Manet scrunched up inside himself in impotent fury.\n\n\n Ronald was maddeningly co-operative and peaceful. He would even get in\n a fist fight to avoid trouble between them. He would do anything Manet\n wanted him to do. He was so utterly damned stupid.\n\n\n Manet's eyes orbitted towards the checkerboard.\n\n\n But if he were so much more stupid than he, Manet, why was it that\n their checker games always ended in a tie?\nThe calendar said it was Spring on Earth when the radio was activated\n for a high-speed information and entertainment transmission.\n\n\n The buzzer-flasher activated in the solarium at the same time.\n\n\n Manet lay stretched out on his back, naked, in front of the transparent\n wall.\n\n\n By rolling his eyes back in his head, Manet could see over a hedge of\n eyebrows for several hundred flat miles of white sand.\n\n\n And several hundred miles of desert could see him.\n\n\n For a moment he gloried in the blatant display of his flabby muscles\n and patchy sunburn.\n\n\n Then he sighed, rolled over to his feet and started trudging toward\n Communication.\n\n\n He padded down the rib-ridged matted corridor, taking his usual small\n pleasure in the kaleidoscopic effect of the spiraling reflections on\n the walls of the tubeway.\n\n\n As he passed the File Room, he caught the sound of the pounding\n vibrations against the stoppered plug of the hatch.\n\n\n \"Come on, Billy Buddy, let me out of this place!\"\n\n\n Manet padded on down the hall. He had, he recalled, shoved Ronald\n in there on Lincoln's Birthday, a minor ironic twist he appreciated\n quietly. He had been waiting in vain for Ronald to run down ever since.\n\n\n In Communication, he took a seat and punched the slowed down playback\n of the transmission.\n\n\n \"Hello, Overseers,\" the Voice said. It was the Voice of the B.B.C.\n It irritated Manet. He never understood how the British had got the\n space transmissions assignment for the English language. He would have\n preferred an American disk-jockey himself, one who appreciated New York\n swing.\n\n\n \"We imagine that you are most interested in how long you shall\n be required to stay at your present stations,\" said the Voice of\n God's paternal uncle. \"As you on Mars may know, there has been much\n discussion as to how long it will require to complete the present\n schedule—\" there was of course no \"K\" sound in the word—\"for\n atmosphere seeding.\n\n\n \"The original, non-binding estimate at the time of your departure was\n 18.2 years. However, determining how long it will take our stations\n properly to remake the air of Mars is a problem comparable to finding\n the age of the Earth. Estimates change as new factors are learned. You\n may recall that three years ago the official estimate was changed to\n thirty-one years. The recent estimate by certain reactionary sources\n of two hundred and seventy-four years is\nnot\nan official government\n estimate. The news for you is good, if you are becoming nostalgic for\n home, or not particularly bad if you are counting on drawing your\n handsome salary for the time spent on Mars. We have every reason to\n believe our\noriginal\nestimate was substantially correct. The total\n time is, within limits of error, a flat 18 years.\"\n\n\n A very flat 18 years, Manet thought as he palmed off the recorder.\n\n\n He sat there thinking about eighteen years.\n\n\n He did not switch to video for some freshly taped westerns.\n\n\n Finally, Manet went back to the solarium and dragged the big box out.\n There was a lot left inside.\n\n\n One of those parts, one of those bones or struts of flesh sprayers, one\n of them, he now knew, was the Modifier.\n\n\n The Modifier was what he needed to change Ronald. Or to shut him off.\n\n\n If only the Master Chart hadn't been lost, so he would know what the\n Modifier looked like! He hoped the Modifier itself wasn't lost. He\n hated to think of Ronald locked in the Usher tomb of the File Room\n for 18 flat years. Long before that, he would have worn his fists away\n hammering at the hatch. Then he might start pounding with his head.\n Perhaps before the time was up he would have worn himself down to\n nothing whatsoever.\n\n\n Manet selected the ripple-finished gray-covered manual from the\n hodgepodge, and thought: eighteen years.\n\n\n Perhaps I should have begun here, he told himself. But I really don't\n have as much interest in that sort of thing as the earthier types.\n Simple companionship was all I wanted. And, he thought on, even an\n insipid personality like Ronald's would be bearable with certain\n compensations.\n\n\n Manet opened the book to the chapter headed:\nThe Making of a Girl\n.\nVeronica crept up behind Manet and slithered her hands up his back and\n over his shoulders. She leaned forward and breathed a moist warmth into\n his ear, and worried the lobe with her even white teeth.\n\n\n \"Daniel Boone,\" she sighed huskily, \"only killed three Indians in his\n life.\"\n\n\n \"I know.\"\n\n\n Manet folded his arms stoically and added: \"Please don't talk.\"\n\n\n She sighed her instant agreement and moved her expressive hands over\n his chest and up to the hollows of his throat.\n\n\n \"I need a shave,\" he observed.\n\n\n Her hands instantly caressed his face to prove that she liked a rather\n bristly, masculine countenance.\n\n\n Manet elbowed Veronica away in a gentlemanly fashion.\n\n\n She made her return.\n\n\n \"Not now,\" he instructed her.\n\n\n \"Whenever you say.\"\n\n\n He stood up and began pacing off the dimensions of the compartment.\n There was no doubt about it: he had been missing his regular exercise.\n\n\n \"Now?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"I'll tell you.\"\n\n\n \"If you were a jet pilot,\" Veronica said wistfully, \"you would be\n romantic. You would grab love when you could. You would never know\n which moment would be last. You would make the most of each one.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not a jet pilot,\" Manet said. \"There are no jet pilots. There\n haven't been any for generations.\"\n\n\n \"Don't be silly,\" Veronica said. \"Who else would stop those vile North\n Koreans and Red China 'volunteers'?\"\n\n\n \"Veronica,\" he said carefully, \"the Korean War is over. It was finished\n even before the last of the jet pilots.\"\n\n\n \"Don't be silly,\" she snapped. \"If it were over, I'd know about it,\n wouldn't I?\"\n\n\n She would, except that somehow she had turned out even less bright,\n less equipped with Manet's own store of information, than Ronald.\n Whoever had built the Lifo kit must have had ancient ideas about what\n constituted appropriate \"feminine\" characteristics.\n\n\n \"I suppose,\" he said heavily, \"that you would like me to take you back\n to Earth and introduce you to Daniel Boone?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes.\"\n\n\n \"Veronica, your stupidity is hideous.\"\n\n\n She lowered her long blonde lashes on her pink cheeks. \"That is a mean\n thing to say to me. But I forgive you.\"\n\n\n An invisible hand began pressing down steadily on the top of his head\n until it forced a sound out of him. \"Aaaawrraagggh! Must you be so\n cloyingly sweet? Do you have to keep taking that? Isn't there any fight\n in you at all?\"\n\n\n He stepped forward and back-handed her across the jaw.\n\n\n It was the first time he had ever struck a woman, he realized\n regretfully. He now knew he should have been doing it long ago.\n\n\n Veronica sprang forward and led with a right.\nRonald's cries grew louder as Manet marched Veronica through the\n corridor.\n\n\n \"Hear that?\" he inquired, smiling with clenched teeth.\n\n\n \"No, darling.\"\n\n\n Well, that was all right. He remembered he had once told her to ignore\n the noise. She was still following orders.\n\n\n \"Come on, Bill, open up the hatch for old Ronald,\" the voice carried\n through sepulchrally.\n\n\n \"Shut up!\" Manet yelled.\n\n\n The voice dwindled stubbornly, then cut off.\n\n\n A silence with a whisper of metallic ring to it.\n\n\n Why hadn't he thought of that before? Maybe because he secretly took\n comfort in the sound of an almost human voice echoing through the\n station.\n\n\n Manet threw back the bolt and wheeled back the hatch.\n\n\n Ronald looked just the same as had when Manet had seen him last. His\n hands didn't seem to have been worn away in the least. Ronald's lips\n seemed a trifle chapped. But that probably came not from all the\n shouting but from having nothing to drink for some months.\n\n\n Ronald didn't say anything to Manet.\n\n\n But he looked offended.\n\n\n \"You,\" Manet said to Veronica with a shove in the small of the back,\n \"inside, inside.\"\n\n\n Ronald sidestepped the lurching girl.\n\n\n \"Do you know what I'm going to do with you?\" Manet demanded. \"I'm going\n to lock you up in here, and leave you for a day, a month, a year,\n forever! Now what do you think about that?\"\n\n\n \"If you think it's the\nright\nthing, dear,\" Veronica said hesitantly.\n\n\n \"You know best, Willy,\" Ronald said uncertainly.\n\n\n Manet slammed the hatch in disgust.\n\n\n Manet walked carefully down the corridor, watching streamers of\n his reflection corkscrewing into the curved walls. He had to walk\n carefully, else the artery would roll up tight and squash him. But he\n walked too carefully for this to happen.\n\n\n As he passed the File Room, Ronald's voice said: \"In my opinion,\n William, you should let us out.\"\n\n\n \"I,\" Veronica said, \"honestly feel that you should let me out, Bill,\n dearest.\"\n\n\n Manet giggled. \"What? What was that? Do you suggest that I take you\n back after you've been behind a locked door with my best friend?\"\n\n\n He went down the corridor, giggling.\n\n\n He giggled and thought: This will never do.\nPouring and tumbling through the Lifo kit, consulting the manual\n diligently, Manet concluded that there weren't enough parts left in the\n box to go around.\n\n\n The book gave instructions for The Model Mother, The Model Father, The\n Model Sibling and others. Yet there weren't parts enough in the kit.\n\n\n He would have to take parts from Ronald or Veronica in order to make\n any one of the others. And he could not do that without the Modifier.\n\n\n He wished Trader Tom would return and extract some higher price from\n him for the Modifier, which was clearly missing from the kit.\n\n\n Or to get even more for simply repossessing the kit.\n\n\n But Trader Tom would not be back. He came this way only once.\n\n\n Manet thumbed through the manual in mechanical frustration. As he did\n so, the solid piece of the last section parted sheet by sheet.\n\n\n He glanced forward and found the headings:\nThe Final Model\n.\n\n\n There seemed something ominous about that finality. But he had paid\n a price for the kit, hadn't he? Who knew what price, when it came to\n that? He had every right to get everything out of the kit that he\n could.\n\n\n He read the unfolding page critically. The odd assortment of\n ill-matched parts left in the box took a new shape in his mind and\n under his fingers....\n\n\n Manet gave one final spurt from the flesh-sprayer and stood back.\n\n\n Victor was finished. Perfect.\n\n\n Manet stepped forward, lifted the model's left eyelid, tweaked his nose.\n\n\n \"Move!\"\n\n\n Victor leaped back into the Lifo kit and did a jig on one of the\n flesh-sprayers.\n\n\n As the device twisted as handily as good intentions, Manet realized\n that it was not a flesh-sprayer but the Modifier.\n\n\n \"It's finished!\" were Victor's first words. \"It's done!\"\n\n\n Manet stared at the tiny wreck. \"To say the least.\"\n\n\n Victor stepped out of the oblong box. \"There is something you should\n understand. I am different from the others.\"\n\n\n \"They all say that.\"\n\n\n \"I am not your friend.\"\n\n\n \"No?\"\n\n\n \"No. You have made yourself an enemy.\"\n\n\n Manet felt nothing more at this information than an esthetic pleasure\n at the symmetry of the situation.\n\n\n \"It completes the final course in socialization,\" Victor continued. \"I\n am your adversary. I will do everything I can to defeat you. I have\nall\nyour knowledge.\nYou\ndo not have all your knowledge. If you let\n yourself know some of the things, it could be used against you. It is\n my function to use everything I possibly can against you.\"\n\n\n \"When do you start?\"\n\n\n \"I've finished. I've done my worst. I have destroyed the Modifier.\"\n\n\n \"What's so bad about that?\" Manet asked with some interest.\n\n\n \"You'll have Veronica and Ronald and me forever now. We'll never\n change. You'll get older, and we'll never change. You'll lose your\n interest in New York swing and jet combat and Daniel Boone, and we'll\n never change. We don't change and you can't change us for others. I've\n made the worst thing happen to you that can happen to any man.\nI've\n seen that you will always keep your friends.\n\"\nThe prospect\nwas\nfrightful.\n\n\n Victor smiled. \"Aren't you going to denounce me for a fiend?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, it is time for the denouncement. Tell me, you feel that now you\n are through? You have fulfilled your function?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Now you will have but to lean back, as it were, so to speak, and see\n me suffer?\"\n\n\n \"\nYes.\n\"\n\n\n \"No. Can't do it, old man. Can't.\nI\nknow. You're too human, too\n like me. The one thing a man can't accept is a passive state, a state\n of uselessness. Not if he can possibly avoid it. Something has to be\n happening to him. He has to be happening to something. You didn't kill\n me because then you would have nothing left to do. You'll never kill\n me.\"\n\n\n \"Of course not!\" Victor stormed. \"Fundamental safety cut-off!\"\n\n\n \"Rationalization. You don't\nwant\nto kill me. And you can't stop\n challenging me at every turn. That's your function.\"\n\n\n \"Stop talking and just think about your miserable life,\" Victor said\n meanly. \"Your friends won't grow and mature with you. You won't make\n any new friends. You'll have me to constantly remind you of your\n uselessness, your constant unrelenting sterility of purpose. How's that\n for boredom, for passiveness?\"\n\n\n \"That's what I'm trying to tell you,\" Manet said irritably, his social\n manners rusty. \"I won't be bored. You will see to that. It's your\n purpose. You'll be a challenge, an obstacle, a source of triumph every\n foot of the way. Don't you see? With you for an enemy, I don't need a\n friend!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was Manet’s relationship like with Ronald and Veronica?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_1", "options": ["He felt superior to Veronica, and equal to Ronald", "They were both too superior to him and he couldn’t stand it", "He felt superior to both of them", "He felt superior to Ronald, and equal to Veronica"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How long has Manet been at his post on Mars?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_2", "options": ["unknown", "11 years", "3 years", "17 years"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Trader Tom and Manet?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_3", "options": ["Tom deals goods that Manet is interested in, and they become radio companions", "Tom deals goods that Manet is interested in, but they don’t know each other any deeper than this", "Tom deals goods that Manet is uninterested in, wishing him to leave", "Tom is imagined by Manet as he loses his mind"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does Trader Tom’s spaceship interior most resemble?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_4", "options": ["A laboratory", "A spaceship", "A study", "A kitchen"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many companions did Manet make with the kit?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_5", "options": ["Two", "He never used the kit", "One", "Three"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the reason that Manet stays on Mars?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_6", "options": ["It is lucrative", "He can’t possibly return to his life on Earth", "He prefers no companionship", "He wants to be one of the first to colonize when the atmosphere is formed"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Manet’s training background?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_7", "options": ["Communications operator", "Engineer", "Not discussed", "Space guide"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How often does Manet communicate with Earth?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_8", "options": ["Weekly", "Rarely", "Daily", "Compulsively"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which humans does Manet converse with in the story?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_9", "options": ["The Atmospheric Seeding Manager", "The BBC communications operator", "None", "Victor"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are Manet’s duties at his station?", "question_unique_id": "50818_XCIZ1MIT_10", "options": ["He has no duties at his outpost", "Conduct experiments to seed the atmosphere with oxygen", "Conduct experiments with building materials to colonize Mars", "Record communications from distant stars"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/0/8/1/50818//50818-h//50818-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51687", "set_unique_id": "51687_3JYPCVFP", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Spy in the Elevator", "year": 1970, "author": "Westlake, Donald E.", "topic": "Post-apocalyptic fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "THE SPY IN THE ELEVATOR\nBy DONALD E. WESTLAKE\n\n\n Illustrated by WEST\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine October 1961.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHe was dangerously insane. He threatened\n \nto destroy everything that was noble and\n \ndecent—including my date with my girl!\nWhen the elevator didn't come, that just made the day perfect. A broken\n egg yolk, a stuck zipper, a feedback in the aircon exhaust, the window\n sticking at full transparency—well, I won't go through the whole sorry\n list. Suffice it to say that when the elevator didn't come, that put\n the roof on the city, as they say.\n\n\n It was just one of those days. Everybody gets them. Days when you're\n lucky in you make it to nightfall with no bones broken.\n\n\n But of all times for it to happen! For literally months I'd been\n building my courage up. And finally, just today, I had made up my\n mind to do it—to propose to Linda. I'd called her second thing this\n morning—right after the egg yolk—and invited myself down to her\n place. \"Ten o'clock,\" she'd said, smiling sweetly at me out of the\n phone. She knew why I wanted to talk to her. And when Linda said ten\n o'clock, she meant ten o'clock.\n\n\n Don't get me wrong. I don't mean that Linda's a perfectionist or a\n harridan or anything like that. Far from it. But she does have a\n fixation on that one subject of punctuality. The result of her job,\n of course. She was an ore-sled dispatcher. Ore-sleds, being robots,\n were invariably punctual. If an ore-sled didn't return on time, no one\n waited for it. They simply knew that it had been captured by some other\n Project and had blown itself up.\n\n\n Well, of course, after working as an ore-sled dispatcher for three\n years, Linda quite naturally was a bit obsessed. I remember one time,\n shortly after we'd started dating, when I arrived at her place five\n minutes late and found her having hysterics. She thought I'd been\n killed. She couldn't visualize anything less than that keeping me from\n arriving at the designated moment. When I told her what actually had\n happened—I'd broken a shoe lace—she refused to speak to me for four\n days.\n\n\n And then the elevator didn't come.\nUntil then, I'd managed somehow to keep the day's minor disasters from\n ruining my mood. Even while eating that horrible egg—I couldn't very\n well throw it away, broken yolk or no; it was my breakfast allotment\n and I was hungry—and while hurriedly jury-rigging drapery across that\n gaspingly transparent window—one hundred and fifty-three stories\n straight down to slag—I kept going over and over my prepared proposal\n speeches, trying to select the most effective one.\n\n\n I had a Whimsical Approach: \"Honey, I see there's a nice little\n Non-P apartment available up on one seventy-three.\" And I had a\n Romantic Approach: \"Darling, I can't live without you at the moment.\n Temporarily, I'm madly in love with you. I want to share my life\n with you for a while. Will you be provisionally mine?\" I even had a\n Straightforward Approach: \"Linda, I'm going to be needing a wife for at\n least a year or two, and I can't think of anyone I would rather spend\n that time with than you.\"\n\n\n Actually, though I wouldn't even have admitted this to Linda, much less\n to anyone else, I loved her in more than a Non-P way. But even if we\n both had been genetically desirable (neither of us were) I knew that\n Linda relished her freedom and independence too much to ever contract\n for any kind of marriage other than Non-P—Non-Permanent, No Progeny.\n\n\n So I rehearsed my various approaches, realizing that when the time\n came I would probably be so tongue-tied I'd be capable of no more\n than a blurted, \"Will you marry me?\" and I struggled with zippers and\n malfunctioning air-cons, and I managed somehow to leave the apartment\n at five minutes to ten.\n\n\n Linda lived down on the hundred fortieth floor, thirteen stories away.\n It never took more than two or three minutes to get to her place, so I\n was giving myself plenty of time.\n\n\n But then the elevator didn't come.\n\n\n I pushed the button, waited, and nothing happened. I couldn't\n understand it.\n\n\n The elevator had always arrived before, within thirty seconds of\n the button being pushed. This was a local stop, with an elevator\n that traveled between the hundred thirty-third floor and the hundred\n sixty-seventh floor, where it was possible to make connections for\n either the next local or for the express. So it couldn't be more than\n twenty stories away. And this was a non-rush hour.\n\n\n I pushed the button again, and then I waited some more. I looked at my\n watch and it was three minutes to ten. Two minutes, and no elevator! If\n it didn't arrive this instant, this second, I would be late.\n\n\n It didn't arrive.\n\n\n I vacillated, not knowing what to do next. Stay, hoping the elevator\n would come after all? Or hurry back to the apartment and call Linda, to\n give her advance warning that I would be late?\n\n\n Ten more seconds, and still no elevator. I chose the second\n alternative, raced back down the hall, and thumbed my way into my\n apartment. I dialed Linda's number, and the screen lit up with white\n letters on black: PRIVACY DISCONNECTION.\n\n\n Of course! Linda expected me at any moment. And she knew what I wanted\n to say to her, so quite naturally she had disconnected the phone, to\n keep us from being interrupted.\n\n\n Frantic, I dashed from the apartment again, back down the hall to the\n elevator, and leaned on that blasted button with all my weight. Even if\n the elevator should arrive right now, I would still be almost a minute\n late.\n\n\n No matter. It didn't arrive.\n\n\n I would have been in a howling rage anyway, but this impossibility\n piled on top of all the other annoyances and breakdowns of the day\n was just too much. I went into a frenzy, and kicked the elevator door\n three times before I realized I was hurting myself more than I was\n hurting the door. I limped back to the apartment, fuming, slammed the\n door behind me, grabbed the phone book and looked up the number of\n the Transit Staff. I dialed, prepared to register a complaint so loud\n they'd be able to hear me in sub-basement three.\n\n\n I got some more letters that spelled: BUSY.\nIt took three tries before I got through to a hurried-looking female\n receptionist \"My name is Rice!\" I bellowed. \"Edmund Rice! I live on the\n hundred and fifty-third floor! I just rang for the elevator and——\"\n\n\n \"The-elevator-is-disconnected.\" She said it very rapidly, as though she\n were growing very used to saying it.\n\n\n It only stopped me for a second. \"Disconnected? What do you mean\n disconnected? Elevators don't\nget\ndisconnected!\" I told her.\n\n\n \"We-will-resume-service-as-soon-as-possible,\" she rattled. My bellowing\n was bouncing off her like radiation off the Project force-screen.\n\n\n I changed tactics. First I inhaled, making a production out of it,\n giving myself a chance to calm down a bit. And then I asked, as\n rationally as you could please, \"Would you mind terribly telling me\nwhy\nthe elevator is disconnected?\"\n\n\n \"I-am-sorry-sir-but-that——\"\n\n\n \"Stop,\" I said. I said it quietly, too, but she stopped. I saw her\n looking at me. She hadn't done that before, she'd merely gazed blankly\n at her screen and parroted her responses.\n\n\n But now she was actually looking at\nme\n.\n\n\n I took advantage of the fact. Calmly, rationally, I said to her, \"I\n would like to tell you something, Miss. I would like to tell you just\n what you people have done to me by disconnecting the elevator. You have\n ruined my life.\"\n\n\n She blinked, open-mouthed. \"Ruined your life?\"\n\n\n \"Precisely.\" I found it necessary to inhale again, even more slowly\n than before. \"I was on my way,\" I explained, \"to propose to a girl whom\n I dearly love. In every way but one, she is the perfect woman. Do you\n understand me?\"\n\n\n She nodded, wide-eyed. I had stumbled on a romantic, though I was too\n preoccupied to notice it at the time.\n\n\n \"In every way but one,\" I continued. \"She has one small imperfection,\n a fixation about punctuality. And I was supposed to meet her at ten\n o'clock.\nI'm late!\n\" I shook my fist at the screen. \"Do you realize\n what you've\ndone\n, disconnecting the elevator? Not only won't she\n marry me, she won't even\nspeak\nto me! Not now! Not after this!\"\n\n\n \"Sir,\" she said tremulously, \"please don't shout.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not shouting!\"\n\n\n \"Sir, I'm terribly sorry. I understand your—\"\n\n\n \"You\nunderstand\n?\" I trembled with speechless fury.\n\n\n She looked all about her, and then leaned closer to the screen,\n revealing a cleavage that I was too distraught at the moment to pay\n any attention to. \"We're not supposed to give this information out,\n sir,\" she said, her voice low, \"but I'm going to tell you, so you'll\n understand why we had to do it. I think it's perfectly awful that it\n had to ruin things for you this way. But the fact of the matter is—\"\n she leaned even closer to the screen—\"there's a spy in the elevator.\"\nII\n\n\n It was my turn to be stunned.\n\n\n I just gaped at her. \"A—a what?\"\n\n\n \"A spy. He was discovered on the hundred forty-seventh floor, and\n managed to get into the elevator before the Army could catch him. He\n jammed it between floors. But the Army is doing everything it can think\n of to get him out.\"\n\n\n \"Well—but why should there be any problem about getting him out?\"\n\n\n \"He plugged in the manual controls. We can't control the elevator from\n outside at all. And when anyone tries to get into the shaft, he aims\n the elevator at them.\"\n\n\n That sounded impossible. \"He\naims\nthe elevator?\"\n\n\n \"He runs it up and down the shaft,\" she explained, \"trying to crush\n anybody who goes after him.\"\n\n\n \"Oh,\" I said. \"So it might take a while.\"\n\n\n She leaned so close this time that even I, distracted as I was, could\n hardly help but take note of her cleavage. She whispered, \"They're\n afraid they'll have to starve him out.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, no!\"\n\n\n She nodded solemnly. \"I'm terribly sorry, sir,\" she said. Then she\n glanced to her right, suddenly straightened up again, and said,\n \"We-will-resume-service-as-soon-as-possible.\" Click. Blank screen.\n\n\n For a minute or two, all I could do was sit and absorb what I'd been\n told. A spy in the elevator! A spy who had managed to work his way all\n the way up to the hundred forty-seventh floor before being unmasked!\n\n\n What in the world was the matter with the Army? If things were getting\n that lax, the Project was doomed, force-screen or no. Who knew how many\n more spies there were in the Project, still unsuspected?\n\n\n Until that moment, the state of siege in which we all lived had had\n no reality for me. The Project, after all, was self-sufficient and\n completely enclosed. No one ever left, no one ever entered. Under our\n roof, we were a nation, two hundred stories high. The ever-present\n threat of other projects had never been more for me—or for most other\n people either, I suspected—than occasional ore-sleds that didn't\n return, occasional spies shot down as they tried to sneak into the\n building, occasional spies of our own leaving the Project in tiny\n radiation-proof cars, hoping to get safely within another project and\n bring back news of any immediate threats and dangers that project might\n be planning for us. Most spies didn't return; most ore-sleds did. And\n within the Project life was full, the knowledge of external dangers\n merely lurking at the backs of our minds. After all, those external\n dangers had been no more than potential for decades, since what Dr.\n Kilbillie called the Ungentlemanly Gentleman's War.\n\n\n Dr. Kilbillie—Intermediate Project History, when I was fifteen years\n old—had private names for every major war of the twentieth century.\n There was the Ignoble Nobleman's War, the Racial Non-Racial War, and\n the Ungentlemanly Gentleman's War, known to the textbooks of course as\n World Wars One, Two, and Three.\n\n\n The rise of the Projects, according to Dr. Kilbillie, was the result of\n many many factors, but two of the most important were the population\n explosion and the Treaty of Oslo. The population explosion, of course,\n meant that there was continuously more and more people but never any\n more space. So that housing, in the historically short time of one\n century, made a complete transformation from horizontal expansion to\n vertical. Before 1900, the vast majority of human beings lived in\n tiny huts of from one to five stories. By 2000,\neverybody\nlived in\n Projects. From the very beginning, small attempts were made to make\n these Projects more than dwelling places. By mid-century, Projects\n (also called apartments and co-ops) already included restaurants,\n shopping centers, baby-sitting services, dry cleaners and a host of\n other adjuncts. By the end of the century, the Projects were completely\n self-sufficient, with food grown hydroponically in the sub-basements,\n separate floors set aside for schools and churches and factories, robot\n ore-sleds capable of seeking out raw materials unavailable within the\n Projects themselves and so on. And all because of, among other things,\n the population explosion.\n\n\n And the Treaty of Oslo.\n\n\n It seems there was a power-struggle between two sets of then-existing\n nations (they were something like Projects, only horizontal instead of\n vertical) and both sets were equipped with atomic weapons. The Treaty\n of Oslo began by stating that atomic war was unthinkable, and added\n that just in case anyone happened to think of it only\ntactical\natomic\n weapons could be used. No\nstrategic\natomic weapons. (A tactical\n weapon is something you use on the soldiers, and a strategic weapons is\n something you use on the folks at home.) Oddly enough, when somebody\n did think of the war, both sides adhered to the Treaty of Oslo, which\n meant that no Projects were bombed.\n\n\n Of course, they made up for this as best they could by using tactical\n atomic weapons all over the place. After the war almost the whole\n world was quite dangerously radioactive. Except for the Projects. Or\n at least those of them which had in time installed the force screens\n which had been invented on the very eve of battle, and which deflected\n radioactive particles.\n\n\n However, what with all of the\nother\ntreaties which were broken during\n the Ungentlemanly Gentleman's War, by the time it was finished nobody\n was quite sure any more who was on whose side. That project over there\n on the horizon might be an ally. And then again it might not. Since\n they weren't sure either, it was risky to expose yourself in order to\n ask.\n\n\n And so life went on, with little to remind us of the dangers lurking\n Outside. The basic policy of Eternal Vigilance and Instant Preparedness\n was left to the Army. The rest of us simply lived our lives and let it\n go at that.\nBut now there was a spy in the elevator.\n\n\n When I thought of how deeply he had penetrated our defenses, and of how\n many others there might be, still penetrating, I shuddered. The walls\n were our safeguards only so long as all potential enemies were on the\n other side of them.\n\n\n I sat shaken, digesting this news, until suddenly I remembered Linda.\n\n\n I leaped to my feet, reading from my watch that it was now ten-fifteen.\n I dashed once more from the apartment and down the hall to the\n elevator, praying that the spy had been captured by now and that Linda\n would agree with me that a spy in the elevator was good and sufficient\n reason for me to be late.\n\n\n He was still there. At least, the elevator was still out.\n\n\n I sagged against the wall, thinking dismal thoughts. Then I noticed the\n door to the right of the elevator. Through that door was the stairway.\n\n\n I hadn't paid any attention to it before. No one ever uses the stairs\n except adventurous young boys playing cops and robbers, running up and\n down from landing to landing. I myself hadn't set foot on a flight of\n stairs since I was twelve years old.\n\n\n Actually, the whole idea of stairs was ridiculous. We had elevators,\n didn't we? Usually, I mean, when they didn't contain spies. So what was\n the use of stairs?\n\n\n Well, according to Dr. Kilbillie (a walking library of unnecessary\n information), the Project had been built when there still had been such\n things as municipal governments (something to do with cities, which\n were more or less grouped Projects), and the local municipal government\n had had on its books a fire ordinance, anachronistic even then, which\n required a complete set of stairs in every building constructed in the\n city. Ergo, the Project had stairs, thirty-two hundred of them.\n\n\n And now, after all these years, the stairs might prove useful after\n all. It was only thirteen flights to Linda's floor. At sixteen steps a\n flight, that meant two hundred and eight steps.\n\n\n Could I descend two hundred and eight steps for my true love? I could.\n If the door would open.\n\n\n It would, though reluctantly. Who knew how many years it had been since\n last this door had been opened? It squeaked and wailed and groaned and\n finally opened half way. I stepped through to the musty, dusty landing,\n took a deep breath, and started down. Eight steps and a landing, eight\n steps and a floor. Eight steps and a landing, eight steps and a floor.\n\n\n On the landing between one fifty and one forty-nine, there was a\n smallish door. I paused, looking curiously at it, and saw that at one\n time letters had been painted on it. The letters had long since flaked\n away, but they left a lighter residue of dust than that which covered\n the rest of the door. And so the words could still be read, if with\n difficulty.\n\n\n I read them. They said:\nEMERGENCY ENTRANCE\n\n ELEVATOR SHAFT\n\n AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL\n\n ONLY\n\n KEEP LOCKED\n\n\n I frowned, wondering immediately why this door wasn't being firmly\n guarded by at least a platoon of Army men. Half a dozen possible\n answers flashed through my mind. The more recent maps might simply\n have omitted this discarded and unnecessary door. It might be sealed\n shut on the other side. The Army might have caught the spy already.\n Somebody in authority might simply have goofed.\n\n\n As I stood there, pondering these possibilities, the door opened and\n the spy came out, waving a gun.\nIII\n\n\n He couldn't have been anyone else but the spy. The gun, in the first\n place. The fact that he looked harried and upset and terribly nervous,\n in the second place. And, of course, the fact that he came from the\n elevator shaft.\n\n\n Looking back, I think he must have been just as startled as I when we\n came face to face like that. We formed a brief tableau, both of us\n open-mouthed and wide-eyed.\n\n\n Unfortunately, he recovered first.\n\n\n He closed the emergency door behind him, quickly but quietly. His gun\n stopped waving around and instead pointed directly at my middle. \"Don't\n move!\" he whispered harshly. \"Don't make a sound!\"\n\n\n I did exactly as I was told. I didn't move and I didn't make a sound.\n Which left me quite free to study him.\n\n\n He was rather short, perhaps three inches shorter than me, with a bony\n high-cheekboned face featuring deepset eyes and a thin-lipped mouth. He\n wore gray slacks and shirt, with brown slippers on his feet. He looked\n exactly like a spy ... which is to say that he\ndidn't\nlook like a\n spy, he looked overpoweringly ordinary. More than anything else, he\n reminded me of a rather taciturn milkman who used to make deliveries to\n my parents' apartment.\n\n\n His gaze darted this way and that. Then he motioned with his free hand\n at the descending stairs and whispered, \"Where do they go?\"\n\n\n I had to clear my throat before I could speak. \"All the way down,\" I\n said.\n\n\n \"Good,\" he said—just as we both heard a sudden raucous squealing from\n perhaps four flights down, a squealing which could be nothing but the\n opening of a hall door. It was followed by the heavy thud of ascending\n boots. The Army!\n\n\n But if I had any visions of imminent rescue, the spy dashed them. He\n said, \"Where do you live?\"\n\n\n \"One fifty-three,\" I said. This was a desperate and dangerous man.\n I knew my only slim chance of safety lay in answering his questions\n promptly, cooperating with him until and unless I saw a chance to\n either escape or capture him.\n\n\n \"All right,\" he whispered. \"Go on.\" He prodded me with the gun.\n\n\n And so we went back up the stairs to one fifty-three, and stopped at\n the door. He stood close behind me, the gun pressed against my back,\n and grated in my ear, \"I'll have this gun in my pocket. If you make one\n false move I'll kill you. Now, we're going to your apartment. We're\n friends, just strolling along together. You got that?\"\n\n\n I nodded.\n\n\n \"All right. Let's go.\"\n\n\n We went. I have never in my life seen that long hall quite so empty as\n it was right then. No one came out of any of the apartments, no one\n emerged from any of the branch halls. We walked to my apartment. I\n thumbed the door open and we went inside.\n\n\n Once the door was closed behind us, he visibly relaxed, sagging against\n the door, his gun hand hanging limp at his side, a nervous smile\n playing across his lips.\n\n\n I looked at him, judging the distance between us, wondering if I could\n leap at him before he could bring the gun up again. But he must have\n read my intentions on my face. He straightened, shaking his head. He\n said, \"Don't try it. I don't want to kill you. I don't want to kill\n anybody, but I will if I have to. We'll just wait here together until\n the hue and cry passes us. Then I'll tie you up, so you won't be able\n to sic your Army on me too soon, and I'll leave. If you don't try any\n silly heroics, nothing will happen to you.\"\n\n\n \"You'll never get away,\" I told him. \"The whole Project is alerted.\"\n\n\n \"You let me worry about that,\" he said. He licked his lips. \"You got\n any chico coffee?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Make me a cup. And don't get any bright ideas about dousing me with\n boiling water.\"\n\n\n \"I only have my day's allotment,\" I protested. \"Just enough for two\n cups, lunch and dinner.\"\n\n\n \"Two cups is fine,\" he said. \"One for each of us.\"\nAnd now I had yet another grudge against this blasted spy. Which\n reminded me again of Linda. From the looks of things, I wasn't\never\ngoing to get to her place. By now she was probably in mourning for me\n and might even have the Sanitation Staff searching for my remains.\n\n\n As I made the chico, he asked me questions. My name first, and then,\n \"What do you do for a living?\"\n\n\n I thought fast. \"I'm an ore-sled dispatcher,\" I said. That was a lie,\n of course, but I'd heard enough about ore-sled dispatching from Linda\n to be able to maintain the fiction should he question me further about\n it.\n\n\n Actually, I was a gymnast instructor. The subjects I taught included\n wrestling, judo and karati—talents I would prefer to disclose to him\n in my own fashion, when the time came.\n\n\n He was quiet for a moment. \"What about radiation level on the\n ore-sleds?\"\n\n\n I had no idea what he was talking about, and admitted as much.\n\n\n \"When they come back,\" he said. \"How much radiation do they pick up?\n Don't you people ever test them?\"\n\n\n \"Of course not,\" I told him. I was on secure ground now, with Linda's\n information to guide me. \"All radiation is cleared from the sleds and\n their cargo before they're brought into the building.\"\n\n\n \"I know that,\" he said impatiently. \"But don't you ever check them\n before de-radiating them?\"\n\"No. Why should we?\"\n\n\n \"To find out how far the radiation level outside has dropped.\"\n\n\n \"For what? Who cares about that?\"\n\n\n He frowned bitterly. \"The same answer,\" he muttered, more to himself\n than to me. \"The same answer every time. You people have crawled into\n your caves and you're ready to stay in them forever.\"\n\n\n I looked around at my apartment. \"Rather a well-appointed cave,\" I told\n him.\n\n\n \"But a cave nevertheless.\" He leaned toward me, his eyes gleaming with\n a fanatical flame. \"Don't you ever wish to get Outside?\"\n\n\n Incredible! I nearly poured boiling water all over myself. \"Outside? Of\n course not!\"\n\n\n \"The same thing,\" he grumbled, \"over and over again. Always the same\n stupidity. Listen, you! Do you realize how long it took man to get out\n of the caves? The long slow painful creep of progress, for millennia,\n before he ever made that first step from the cave?\"\n\n\n \"I have no idea,\" I told him.\n\n\n \"I'll tell you this,\" he said belligerently. \"A lot longer than it\n took for him to turn around and go right back into the cave again.\" He\n started pacing the floor, waving the gun around in an agitated fashion\n as he talked. \"Is this the\nnatural\nlife of man? It is not. Is this\n even a\ndesirable\nlife for man? It is\ndefinitely\nnot.\" He spun back\n to face me, pointing the gun at me again, but this time he pointed\n it as though it were a finger, not a gun. \"Listen, you,\" he snapped.\n \"Man was progressing. For all his stupidities and excesses, he was\n growing up. His dreams were getting bigger and grander and better all\n the time. He was planning to tackle\nspace\n! The moon first, and then\n the planets, and finally the stars. The whole universe was out there,\n waiting to be plucked like an apple from a tank. And Man was reaching\n out for it.\" He glared as though daring me to doubt it.\nI decided that this man was doubly dangerous. Not only was he a spy,\n he was also a lunatic. So I had two reasons for humoring him. I nodded\n politely.\n\n\n \"So what happened?\" he demanded, and immediately answered himself.\n \"I'll tell you what happened! Just as he was about to make that first\n giant step, Man got a hotfoot. That's all it was, just a little\n hotfoot. So what did Man do? I'll tell you what he did. He turned\n around and he ran all the way back to the cave he started from, his\n tail between his legs.\nThat's\nwhat he did!\"\n\n\n To say that all of this was incomprehensible would be an extreme\n understatement. I fulfilled my obligation to this insane dialogue by\n saying, \"Here's your coffee.\"\n\n\n \"Put it on the table,\" he said, switching instantly from raving maniac\n to watchful spy.\n\n\n I put it on the table. He drank deep, then carried the cup across the\n room and sat down in my favorite chair. He studied me narrowly, and\n suddenly said, \"What did they tell you I was? A spy?\"\n\n\n \"Of course,\" I said.\n\n\n He grinned bitterly, with one side of his mouth. \"Of course. The damn\n fools! Spy! What do you suppose I'm going to spy on?\"\n\n\n He asked the question so violently and urgently that I knew I had to\n answer quickly and well, or the maniac would return. \"I—I wouldn't\n know, exactly,\" I stammered. \"Military equipment, I suppose.\"\n\n\n \"Military equipment?\nWhat\nmilitary equipment? Your Army is supplied\n with uniforms, whistles and hand guns, and that's about it.\"\n\n\n \"The defenses—\" I started.\n\n\n \"The defenses,\" he interrupted me, \"are non-existent. If you mean the\n rocket launchers on the roof, they're rusted through with age. And what\n other defenses are there? None.\"\n\n\n \"If you say so,\" I replied stiffly. The Army claimed that we had\n adequate defense equipment. I chose to believe the Army over an enemy\n spy.\n\n\n \"Your people send out spies, too, don't they?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"Well, of course.\"\n\n\n \"And what are\nthey\nsupposed to spy on?\"\n\n\n \"Well—\" It was such a pointless question, it seemed silly to even\n answer it. \"They're supposed to look for indications of an attack by\n one of the other projects.\"\n\n\n \"And do they find any indications, ever?\"\n\n\n \"I'm sure I don't know,\" I told him frostily. \"That would be classified\n information.\"\n\n\n \"You bet it would,\" he said, with malicious glee. \"All right, if that's\n what\nyour\nspies are doing, and if\nI'm\na spy, then it follows that\n I'm doing the same thing, right?\"\n\n\n \"I don't follow you,\" I admitted.\n\n\n \"If I'm a spy,\" he said impatiently, \"then I'm supposed to look for\n indications of an attack by you people on my Project.\"\n\n\n I shrugged. \"If that's your job,\" I said, \"then that's your job.\"\n\n\n He got suddenly red-faced, and jumped to his feet. \"That's\nnot\nmy\n job, you blatant idiot!\" he shouted. \"I'm not a spy! If I\nwere\na spy,\nthen\nthat would be my job!\"\nThe maniac had returned, in full force. \"All right,\" I said hastily.\n \"All right, whatever you say.\"\n\n\n He glowered at me a moment longer, then shouted, \"Bah!\" and dropped\n back into the chair.\n\n\n He breathed rather heavily for a while, glaring at the floor, then\n looked at me again. \"All right, listen. What if I were to tell you that\n I\nhad\nfound indications that you people were planning to attack my\n Project?\"\n\n\n I stared at him. \"That's impossible!\" I cried. \"We aren't planning to\n attack anybody! We just want to be left in peace!\"\n\n\n \"How do I know that?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"It's the truth! What would we want to attack anybody for?\"\n\n\n \"Ah hah!\" He sat forward, tensed, pointing the gun at me like a finger\n again. \"Now, then,\" he said. \"If you know it doesn't make any sense for\n this Project to attack any other project, then why in the world should\n you think\nthey\nmight see some advantage in attacking\nyou\n?\"\n\n\n I shook my head, dumbfounded. \"I can't answer a question like that,\" I\n said. \"How do I know what they're thinking?\"\n\n\n \"They're human beings, aren't they?\" he cried. \"Like you? Like me? Like\n all the other people in this mausoleum?\"\n\n\n \"Now, wait a minute—\"\n\n\n \"No!\" he shouted. \"You wait a minute! I want to tell you something. You\n think I'm a spy. That blundering Army of yours thinks I'm a spy. That\n fathead who turned me in thinks I'm a spy. But I'm\nnot\na spy, and I'm\n going to tell you what I am.\"\n\n\n I waited, looking as attentive as possible.\n\n\n \"I come,\" he said, \"from a Project about eighty miles north of here.\n I came here by foot, without any sort of radiation shield at all to\n protect me.\"\n\n\n The maniac was back. I didn't say a word. I didn't want to set off the\n violence that was so obviously in this lunatic.\n\n\n \"The radiation level,\" he went on, \"is way down. It's practically as\n low as it was before the Atom War. I don't know how long it's been\n that low, but I would guess about ten years, at the very least.\" He\n leaned forward again, urgent and serious. \"The world is safe out there\n now. Man can come back out of the cave again. He can start building\n the dreams again. And this time he can build better, because he has\n the horrible example of the recent past to guide him away from the\n pitfalls. There's no need any longer for the Projects.\"\n\n\n And that was like saying there's no need any longer for stomachs, but I\n didn't say so. I didn't say anything at all.\n\n\n \"I'm a trained atomic engineer,\" he went on. \"In my project, I worked\n on the reactor. Theoretically, I believed that there was a chance the\n radiation Outside was lessening by now, though we had no idea exactly\n how much radiation had been released by the Atom War. But I wanted\n to test the theory, and the Commission wouldn't let me. They claimed\n public safety, but I knew better. If the Outside were safe and the\n Projects were no longer needed, then the Commission was out of a job,\n and they knew it.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How are the various Projects in the story related to each other?", "question_unique_id": "51687_3JYPCVFP_1", "options": ["They are governed like states within a country", "They are connected by underground corridors to avoid radiation at the surface", "They are largely governed like separate countries", "They are separate wings of the same humongous building"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What happened to Linda in the end?", "question_unique_id": "51687_3JYPCVFP_2", "options": ["She went insane with worry", "She left with her partner to explore the Outside", "She broke off the engagement", "Not possible to know"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the nature of the spy?", "question_unique_id": "51687_3JYPCVFP_3", "options": ["He insisted he wasn’t a spy but actually was", "A scientist", "A defector from a nearby Project", "A person trying to escape the project"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "In what way did the spy intend to evade the Army?", "question_unique_id": "51687_3JYPCVFP_4", "options": ["Disguised as a normal everyday person in the Project", "Waiting until they thought they’d lost his trail", "Wear a radiation blanket and hide in an outbound ore-sled", "Lure the Army up to the top floors and then bolt to the bottom and run Outside"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What abilities does the spy appear to have?", "question_unique_id": "51687_3JYPCVFP_5", "options": ["Mind reading and detection of others in the elevator shaft", "Detection of others in the elevator shaft", "Shape shifting", "Invisibility and mind reading"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the spy enter the Project?", "question_unique_id": "51687_3JYPCVFP_6", "options": ["He wanted to test human travel safety Outside", "He was mounting a nuclear attack", "He suspected they were going to attack his own Project", "He wanted to gain information about the technologies in the Project"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many buildings has the spy breached the security of?", "question_unique_id": "51687_3JYPCVFP_7", "options": ["Two", "None", "One", "Countless"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the commitment to be made with Linda most like?", "question_unique_id": "51687_3JYPCVFP_8", "options": ["Friends who look after each other’s apartments when the other is gone", "Limited time partners with only two children allowed to control the population", "Limited time committed partners", "Lifetime partners with no children allowed"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/6/8/51687//51687-h//51687-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51027", "set_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Jaywalker", "year": 1950, "author": "Rocklynne, Ross", "topic": "Space flight to the moon -- Fiction; Short stories; Science fiction; Husband and wife -- Fiction; PS", "article": "JAYWALKER\nBY ROSS ROCKLYNNE\n\n\n Illustrated by DON DIBLEY\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction December 1950.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWomen may be against progress because it means new\n\n pseudo-widowhoods. Space-widowhood, for instance....\nAt last she was on the gangplank, entering the mouth of the\n spaceship—and nothing could ever stop her now. Not unless she broke\n down completely in front of all these hurrying, Moon-bound passengers,\n in plain sight of the scattered crowd which clustered on the other\n side of the space-field barriers. Even that possibility was denied her\n when two gently insistent middle-aged ladies indicated she was blocking\n the way....\nSomehow, dizzily, she was at her seat, led there by a smiling,\n brown-clad stewardess; and her azure-tipped fingers were clutching at\n the pearl-gray plasta-leather of the chair arm. Her eyes, the azure\n of her nails, the azure (so she had been told) of Earth seen from\n interplanetary space, grew hot. She closed them, and for a moment\n gave herself up to an almost physical yearning for the Toluca Lake\n house—the comfort, the safety, the—the\nsanity\nof it.\nStubbornly she forced herself back to reality. At any moment Jack,\n dark-eyed and scrappy, might come swinging down the long, shining\n aisle. Jack—Captain Jack McHenry, if you please—must not know, yet,\n what she was doing to patch up their marriage.\n\n\n She turned her face away from the aisle, covered her cheek with her\n hand to hide it. Her gaze went out through the ray-proof glass port to\n the field, to the laboring beetle of a red tractor bearing the gangway\n on its busy back, to the low, blast-proof administration building. When\n her gaze came to the tall sign over the entrance, she hurried it past;\n it was too late to think about that now, the square, shouting type that\n read:\nCAUTION\n\n HAVE YOU PASSED YOUR PHYSICAL EXAMINATION?\nAvoiding It May Cost Your Life!\n\"May I see your validation, please?\"\n\n\n Marcia McHenry stiffened. Had she read the sign aloud? She turned\n startled eyes up to the smiling stewardess, who was holding out a\n well-groomed hand. Marcia responded weakly to the smile, overcame a\n sudden urge to blurt out that she had no validation—not her own,\n anyway. But her stiff fingers were already holding out the pink card\n with Nellie Foster's name on it.\n\n\n \"You're feeling well, Mrs. Foster?\"\nFeeling well? Yes, of course. Except for the—usual sickness. But\n that's so very normal\n.... Her numb lips moved. \"I'm fine,\" she said.\n\n\n Miss Eagen (which, her neat lapel button attested, was her name) made\n a penciled frown as lovely as her machined smile. \"Some day,\" she told\n Marcia, \"we won't have to ask the passengers if they're well. It's so\n easy to come aboard on someone else's validation, and people don't seem\n to realize how dangerous that is.\"\n\n\n As Miss Eagen moved to the next seat, Marcia shrank into a small\n huddle, fumbling with the card until it was crammed shapeless into her\n purse. Then from the depths of her guilt came rebellion. It was going\n to be all right. She was doing the biggest thing she'd ever done, and\n Jack would rise to the occasion, and it would be all right.\n\n\n It\nhad\nto be all right....\n\n\n After this—if this didn't work—there just would be nothing else she\n could do. She wasn't a scheming woman. No one would ever know how\n difficult it had been for her to think up the whole plan, to find\n Nellie Foster (someone Jack had never met) and to persuade Nellie to\n register for the trip and take the physical for her. She'd had to lie\n to Nellie, to make Nellie think she was brave and adventurous, and that\n she was just doing it to surprise Jack.\n\n\n Oh, he'd be surprised, all right.\n\n\n The flash walls on the field were being raised to keep the blow-by from\n the ship's jets from searing the administration building and the area\n beyond. Marcia realized with crushing suddenness that the ship was\n about to blast off in seconds. She half-rose, then sank back, biting\n her lip. Silly ... Jack had said that—her fear of space was silly.\n He'd said it during the quarrel, and he'd roared at her, \"And that's\n why you want me to come back—ground myself, be an Earth-lubber—so I\n can spare you the anguish of sitting home wondering if I'll come back\n alive!\"\nAnd then he'd been sorry he'd shouted, and he sat by her, taking her\n chin in his hand. \"Marcia, Marcia,\" he'd said gently, \"you're so\nsilly\n! It's been nineteen whole years since your father died in the\n explosion of a Moon-rocket. Rocket motors just don't explode any more,\n honey! Ships travel to the Moon and back on iron-clad, mathematical\n orbits that are figured before the ship puffs a jet—\"\n\n\n \"The\nElsinore\n?\" She'd said it viciously, to taunt him, and something\n in her had been pleased at the dull flush that rose to his face.\n Everyone knew about the\nElsinore\n, the 500-foot Moon-ferry that almost\n missed the Moon.\n\n\n \"That,\" he said bitterly, \"was human damnfoolishness botching up the\n equations. Too many lobbyists have holdings on the Moon and don't\n want to risk not being able to go there in a hurry. So they haven't\n passed legislation to keep physically unfit people off spaceships.\n One of the passengers got aboard the\nElsinore\non somebody else's\n validation—which meant that nobody knew he was taking endocrine\n treatments to put hair on his brainless head and restore his—Oh, the\nJaywalker\n!\" Jack spat in disgust. \"Anyway, he was the kind of idiot\n who never realizes that certain glandular conditions are fatal in free\n fall.\"\n\n\n Even now she distinctly recalled the beginnings of the interplanetary\n cold that always seeped into the warm house when he talked about space,\n when he was about to leave her for it. And this time it was worse than\n ever before.\n\n\n He went on remorselessly, \"Once the\nElsinore\nreached the free-fall\n flight, where power could be shut off, the skipper had to put the\n ferry into an axial spin under power, creating artificial gravity\n to save the worthless life of that fool. So of course he lost his\n trajectory, and had to warp her in as best he could, without passing\n the Moon or crashing into it. And of course you're not listening.\"\n\n\n \"It's all so dull!\" she had flared, and then, \"How can I be interested\n in what some blundering space-jockey did?\"\n\n\n \"Blun—Marcia, you really don't realize what that skipper did was the\n finest piece of shiphandling since mankind got off the ground.\"\n\n\n \"Was it?\" she'd yawned. \"Could you do it?\"\n\n\n \"I—like to think I could,\" he said. \"I'd hate to have to try.\"\n\n\n She'd shrugged. \"Then it can't be very difficult, darling.\"\n\n\n She hadn't meant to be so cruel. Or so stupid. But when they were\n quarreling, or when he talked that repugnant, dedicated, other-world\n garble, something always went cold and furious and—lonely inside her,\n and made her fight back unfairly.\n\n\n After he'd gone—for good, he said—her anger had sustained her for a\n few weeks. Then, bleakly, she knew she'd go to the ends of Earth for\n Jack. Or even to the Moon....\nSitting rigid in the tense stillness of a rocket ship that was about\n to leap from Earth, Marcia started as an officer ducked his head into\n the passenger compartment from the pilot room's deep glow. But it\n wasn't Jack. The officer's lips moved hurriedly as he counted over the\n seats. He ducked back out of sight. From the bulk-heads, the overhead,\n everywhere, came a deep, quiet rumble. Some of the passengers looked\n anxious, some excited, and some just leafed casually through magazines.\n\n\n Now the brown-clad Miss Eagen was speaking from the head of the aisle.\n\n\n \"Those of you who haven't been in a rocket before won't find it much\n different from being in an airplane. At the same time—\" She paused,\n quiet brown eyes solemn. \"What you are about to experience is something\n that will make you proud to belong to the human race.\"\nThat\nagain! thought Marcia furiously; and then all emotion left her\n but cold, ravening fear as the rumble heightened. She tried to close\n her eyes, her ears against it, but her mind wouldn't respond. She\n squirmed in her chair and found herself staring down at the field.\n It looked the way she felt—flat and pale and devoid of life, with a\n monstrous structure of terror squatting in it. The scene was abruptly\n splashed with a rushing sheet of flame that darkened the daytime sky.\n Then it was torn from her vision.\n\n\n It was snatched away—the buildings, the trees, the roads surrounding\n the field seemed to pour in upon it, shrinking as they ran together.\n Roads dried up like parched rivers, thinning and vanishing into the\n circle of her horrified vision. A great, soft, uniform weight pressed\n her down and back; she fought it, but it was too big and too soft.\n\n\n Now Earth's surface was vague and Sun-splashed. Marcia's sense of loss\n tore at her. She put up her hands, heavily, and pressed the glass as\n if she could push it out, push herself out, go back, back to Earth\n and solidity. Clouds shot by like bullets, fell away until they were\n snowflakes roiling in violet haze. Then, in the purling universe that\n had grown around the ship, Earth was a mystic circle, a shallow dish\n floating darkly and heavily below.\n\n\n \"We are now,\" said Miss Eagen's calm voice, \"thirty-seven miles over\n Los Angeles.\"\n\n\n After that, there was scarcely room for thought—even for fear, though\n it lurked nearby, ready to leap. There was the ascent, the quiet,\n sleeplike ascent into space. Marcia very nearly forgot to breathe. She\n had been prepared for almost anything except this quality of peace and\n awe.\nShe didn't know how long she had been sitting there, awestruck,\n spellbound, when she realized that she had to finish the job she'd\n started, and do it right now, this minute. It might already be too\n late ... she wished, suddenly, and for the very first time, that she'd\n paid more attention to Jack's ramblings about orbits and turn-over\n points and correction blasts, and all that gobbledegook. She glanced\n outside again and the sky was no longer deep blue, but black. She\n pressed herself up out of the soft chair—it was difficult, because of\n the one-and-a-half gravities the ship was holding—and plodded heavily\n up the aisle. Miss Eagen was just rising from the chair in which she\n sat for the take-off.\n\n\n \"Miss Eagen—\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Mrs. Fos—why, what's the matter?\"\n\n\n Seeing the startled expression on the stewardess' face, Marcia realized\n she must be looking like a ghost. She put a hand to her cheek and found\n it clammy.\n\n\n \"Come along,\" said Miss Eagen cheerfully. She put a firm arm around\n Marcia's shoulder. \"Just a touch of space-sickness. This way.\nThat's\nit. We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy.\"\n\n\n \"It isn't s-space sickness,\" said Marcia in a very small and very\n positive voice. She let herself be led forward, through the door and to\n the left, where there was a small and compact ship's hospital.\n\n\n \"Now, now,\" said Miss Eagen briskly, \"just you lie down there, Mrs.\n Foster. Does it hurt any special place?\"\n\n\n Marcia lay down gratefully. She closed her eyes tightly and said, \"I'm\n not Mrs. Foster. It doesn't hurt.\"\n\n\n \"You're not—\" Miss Eagen apparently decided to take one thing at a\n time. \"How do you feel?\"\n\n\n \"Scared,\" said Marcia.\n\n\n \"Why, what—is there to be scared of?\"\n\n\n \"I'm pregnant.\"\n\n\n \"Well, that's no—You're\nwhat\n?\"\n\n\n \"I'm Mrs. McHenry. I'm Jack's wife.\"\n\n\n There was such a long pause that Marcia opened her eyes. Miss Eagen was\n looking at her levelly. She said, \"I'll have to examine you.\"\n\n\n \"I know. Go ahead.\"\n\n\n Miss Eagen did, swiftly and thoroughly. \"You're so right,\" she\n breathed. She went to the small sink, stripping off her rubber gloves.\n With her back to Marcia, she said, \"I'll have to tell the captain, you\n know.\"\n\n\n \"I know. I'd rather ... tell him myself.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" said Miss Eagen flatly. Marcia felt as if she'd been slapped.\n Miss Eagen dried her hands and crossed to an intercom. \"Eagen to\n Captain.\"\n\n\n \"McHenry here.\"\n\n\n \"Captain McHenry, could you come back to the hospital right away?\"\n\n\n \"Not right away, Sue.\"\nSue! No wonder he had found it so easy to walk\n out!\nShe looked at the trim girl with hating eyes. The intercom said,\n \"You know I've got course-correction computations from here to yonder.\n Give me another forty minutes.\"\n\n\n \"I think,\" said Sue Eagen into the mike, \"that the computations can\n wait.\"\n\n\n \"The hell you do!\" The red contact light on the intercom went out.\n\n\n \"He'll be right here,\" said Miss Eagen.\nMarcia sat up slowly, clumsily. Miss Eagen did not offer to help.\n Marcia's hands strayed to her hair, patted it futilely.\n\n\n He came in, moving fast and purposefully, as always. \"Sue, what in time\n do you think you—\nMarcia!\n\" His dark face broke into a delighted grin\n and he put his arms out. \"You—you're here—\nhere\n, on my ship!\"\n\n\n \"I'm pregnant, Jack,\" she said. She put out a hand to ward him off. She\n couldn't bear the thought of his realizing what she had done while he\n had his arms around her.\n\n\n \"You\nare\n? You—we—\" He turned to Miss Eagen, who nodded once, her\n face wooden. \"Just find it out?\"\n\n\n This time Miss Eagen didn't react at all, and Marcia knew that she had\n to speak up. \"No, Jack. I knew weeks ago.\"\n\n\n There was no describable change in his face, but the taut skin of his\n space-tanned cheek seemed, somehow, to draw inward. His eyebrow ridges\n seemed to be more prominent, and he looked older, and very tired.\n Softly and slowly he asked, \"What in God's name made you get on the\n ship?\"\n\n\n \"I had to, Jack. I had to.\"\n\n\n \"Had to kill yourself?\" he demanded brutally. \"This tears it. This ties\n it up in a box with a bloody ribbon-bow. I suppose you know what this\n means—what I've got to do now?\"\n\n\n \"Spin ship,\" she replied immediately, and looked up at him pertly, like\n a kindergarten child who knows she has the right answer.\n\n\n He groaned.\n\n\n \"You said you could do it.\"\n\n\n \"I can ... try,\" he said hollowly. \"But—why,\nwhy\n?\"\n\n\n \"Because,\" she said bleakly, \"I learned long ago that a man grows to\n love what he has to fight for.\"\n\n\n \"And you were going to make me fight for you and the child—even if the\n lives of a hundred and seventy people were involved?\"\n\n\n \"You said you could handle it. I thought you could.\"\n\n\n \"I'll try,\" he said wearily. \"Oh, I'll try.\" He went out, dragging his\n feet, his shoulders down, without looking at her.\n\n\n There was a stiff silence. Marcia looked up at Miss Eagen. \"It's true,\n you know,\" she said. \"A man grows to love the things he has to defend,\n no matter how he felt about them before.\"\n\n\n The stewardess looked at her, her face registering a strange mixture of\n detachment and wonder. \"You really believe that, don't you?\"\n\n\n Marcia's patience, snapped. \"You don't have to look so superior. I know\n what's bothering\nyou\n. Well, he's\nmy\nhusband, and don't you forget\n it.\"\nMiss Eagen's breath hissed in. Her eyes grew bright and she shook her\n head slightly. Then she turned on her heel and went to the intercom.\n Marcia thought for a frightened moment that she was going to call Jack\n back again. Instead she dialed and said, \"Hospital to Maintenance.\n Petrucelli?\"\n\n\n \"Petrucelli here.\"\n\n\n \"Come up with a crescent wrench, will you, Pet?\"\n\n\n Another stiff silence. A question curled into Marcia's mind and she\n asked it. \"Do you work on all these ships at one time or another?\"\n\n\n Miss Eagen did not beat around the bush. \"I've been with Captain\n McHenry for three years. I hope to work with him always. I think he's\n the finest in the Service.\"\n\n\n \"He—th-thinks as well of you, no doubt.\"\n\n\n Petrucelli lounged in, a big man, easy-going, powerful. \"What's busted,\n muscles?\"\n\n\n \"Bolt the bed to the bulkhead, Pet. Mrs. McHenry—I'm sorry, but you'll\n have to get up.\"\n\n\n Marcia bounced resentfully off the cot and stood aside. Petrucelli\n looked at her, cocked an eyebrow, looked at Miss Eagen, and asked,\n \"Jaywalker?\"\n\n\n \"Please hurry, Pet.\" She turned to Marcia. \"I've got to explain to the\n passengers that there won't be any free fall. Most of them are looking\n forward to it.\" She went out.\n\n\n Marcia watched the big man work for a moment. \"Why are you putting the\n bed on the wall?\"\n\n\n He looked at her and away, quickly. \"Because, lady, when we start to\n spin, that outside bulkhead is going to be\ndown\n. Centrifugal force,\n see?\" And before she could answer him he added, \"I can't talk and work\n at the same time.\"\n\n\n Feeling very much put-upon, Marcia waited silently until he was\n finished, and the bed hung ludicrously to the wall like a walking fly.\n She thanked him timidly, and he ignored it and went out.\n\n\n Miss Eagen returned.\n\n\n \"That man was very rude,\" said Marcia.\n\n\n Miss Eagen looked at her coolly. \"I'm sorry,\" she said, obviously not\n meaning sorry at all.\n\n\n Marcia wet her lips. \"I asked you a question before,\" she said evenly.\n \"About you and the captain.\"\n\n\n \"You did,\" said Sue Eagen. \"Please don't.\"\n\n\n \"And why not?\"\n\n\n \"Because,\" said Miss Eagen, and in that moment she looked almost as\n drawn as Jack had, \"I'm supposed to be of service to the passengers at\n all times no matter what. If I have feelings at all, part of my job is\n to keep them to myself.\"\n\n\n \"Very courteous, I'm sure. However, I want to release you from your\n sense of duty. I'm\nmost\ninterested in what you have to say.\"\n\n\n Miss Eagen's arched nostrils seemed pinched and white. \"You really want\n me to speak my piece?\"\nIn answer Marcia leaned back against the bulkhead and folded her arms.\n Miss Eagen gazed at her for a moment, nodded as if to herself, and\n said, \"I suppose there always will be people who don't pay attention\n to the rules. Jaywalkers. But out here jaywalkers don't have as much\n margin for error as they do crossing against a traffic light on Earth.\"\n She looked Marcia straight in the eye. \"What makes a jaywalker isn't\n ignorance. It's a combination of stupidity and stubbornness. The\n jaywalker does\nknow\nbetter. In your case....\"\n\n\n She sighed. \"It's well known—even by you—that the free-fall condition\n has a weird effect on certain people. The human body is in an\n unprecedented situation in free fall. Biologically it has experienced\n the condition for very short periods—falling out of trees, or on\n delayed parachute jumps. But it isn't constituted to take hour after\n hour of fall.\"\n\n\n \"What about floating in a pool for hours?\" asked Marcia sullenly.\n\n\n \"That's quite a different situation. 'Down' exists when you're\n swimming. Free-fall means that everything around you is 'up.' The\n body's reactions to free-fall go much deeper than space-nausea and a\n mild feeling of panic. When there's a glandular imbalance of certain\n kinds, the results can be drastic. Apparently some instinctual part\n of the mind reacts as if there were a violent emergency, when no\n emergency is recognized by the reasoning part of the mind. There\n are sudden floods of adrenalin; the 17-kesteroids begin spastic\n secretions; the—well, it varies in individuals. But it's pretty well\n established that the results can be fatal. It kills men with prostate\n trouble—sometimes. It kills women in menopause—often. It kills women\n in the early stages of pregnancy—\nalways\n.\"\n\n\n \"But how?\" asked Marcia, interested in spite of her resentment.\n\n\n \"Convulsions. A battle royal between a glandular-level panic and a\n violent and useless effort of the will to control the situation.\n Muscles tear, working against one another. Lungs rupture and air\n is forced into the blood-stream, causing embolism and death. Not\n everything is known about it, but I would guess that pregnant women are\n especially susceptible because their protective reflexes, through and\n through, are much more easily stimulated.\"\n\n\n \"And the only thing that can be done about it is to supply gravity?\"\n\n\n \"Or centrifugal force (or centripetal, depending on where you're\n standing, but why be technical?)—or, better yet, keep those people\n off the ships.\"\n\n\n \"So now Jack will spin the ship until I'm pressed against the walls\n with the same force as gravity, and then everything will be all right.\"\n\n\n \"You make it sound so simple.\"\n\n\n \"There's no need to be sarcastic!\" Marcia blurted. \"Jack can do it. You\n think he can, don't you? Don't you?\"\n\n\n \"He can do anything any space skipper has ever done, and more,\"\n said Sue Eagen, and her face glowed. \"But it isn't easy. Right this\n minute he's working over the computer—a small, simple, ship-board\n computer—working out orbital and positional and blast-intensity data\n that would be a hard nut for the giant calculators on Earth to crack.\n And he's doing it in half the time—or less—than it would take the\n average mathematician, because he has to; because it's a life-and-death\n matter if he makes a mistake or takes too long.\"\n\"But—but—\"\n\n\n \"But what?\" Miss Eagen's composure seemed to have been blasted to\n shreds by the powerful currents of her indignation. Her eyes flashed.\n \"You mean, but why doesn't he just work the ship while it's spinning\n the same way he does when it isn't?\"\n\n\n Through a growing fear, Marcia nodded mutely.\n\n\n \"He'll spin the ship on its long axis,\" said the stewardess with\n exaggerated patience. \"That means that the steering jet tubes in the\n nose and tail are spinning, too. You don't just turn with a blast on\n one tube or another. The blasts have to be let off in hundreds of short\n bursts, timed to the hundredth of a second, to be able to make even a\n slight course correction. The sighting instruments are wheeling round\n and round while you're checking your position. Your fuel has to be\n calculated to the last ounce—because enough fuel for a Moon flight,\n with hours of fuelless free-fall, and enough fuel for a power spin\n and course corrections while spinning, are two very different things.\n Captain McHenry won't be able to maneuver to a landing on the Moon.\n He'll do it exactly right the first time, or not at all.\"\n\n\n Marcia was white and still. \"I—I never—\"\n\n\n \"But I haven't told you the toughest part of it yet,\" Miss Eagen went\n on inexorably. \"A ship as massive as this, spinning on its long axis,\n is a pretty fair gyroscope. It doesn't want to turn. Any force that\n tries to make it turn is resisted at right angles to the force applied.\n When that force is applied momentarily from jets, as they swing into\n position and away again, the firing formulas get—well, complex. And\n the ship's course and landing approach are completely new. Instead\n of letting the ship fall to the Moon, turning over and approaching\n tail-first with the main jets as brakes, Captain McHenry is going to\n have to start the spin first and go almost the whole way nose-first.\n He'll come up on the Moon obliquely, pass it, stop the spin, turn over\n once to check the speed of the ship, and once again to put the tail\n down when the Moon's gravity begins to draw us in. There'll be two\n short periods of free-fall there, but they won't be long enough to\n bother you much. And if we can do all that with the fuel we've got, it\n will be a miracle. A miracle from the brain of Captain McHenry.\"\n\n\n Marcia forced herself away from the bulkhead with a small whimper of\n hurt and hatred—hatred of the stars, of this knowledgeable, inspired\n girl, and—even more so—of herself. She darted toward the door.\n\n\n Miss Eagen was beside her in an instant, a hard small hand on her arm.\n \"Where are you going?\"\n\n\n \"I'm going to stop him. He can't take that chance with his ship, with\n these people....\"\n\n\n \"He will and he must. You surely know your husband.\"\n\n\n \"I know him as well as you do.\"\nMiss Eagen's firm lips shut in a thin hard line. \"Do as you like,\" she\n whispered. \"And while you're doing it—think about whom he's spinning\n ship for.\" She took her hand from Marcia's arm.\n\n\n Marcia twisted away and went into the corridor.\n\n\n She found herself at the entrance to the pilot room. In one sweeping\n glance she saw a curved, silver board. Before it a man sat tranquilly.\n Nearer to her was Jack, hunched over the keyboard of a complex, compact\n machine, like a harried bookkeeper on the last day of the month.\n\n\n Her lips formed his name, but she was silent. She watched him, his\n square, competent hands, his detached and distant face. Through the\n forward view-plate she saw a harsh, jagged line, the very edge of the\n Moon's disc. Next to it, and below, was the rear viewer, holding the\n shimmering azure shape of Earth.\n\n\n \"\nAll Earth watches me when I work, but with your eyes.\n\"\n\n\n Jack had said that to her once, long ago, when he still loved her.\n\n\n \"... human damnfoolishness botching up the equations....\" He had said\n that once, too.\n\n\n Miss Eagen was standing by the hospital door, watching her. When Marcia\n turned away without speaking to Jack, Miss Eagen smiled and held out\n her hand.\n\n\n Marcia went to her and took the hand. They went into the hospital. Miss\n Eagen didn't speak; she seemed to be waiting.\n\n\n \"Yes, I know who Jack's spinning the ship for,\" said Marcia.\n\n\n Miss Eagen looked an unspoken question.\n\n\n Marcia said, painfully, \"He's like the Captain of the\nElsinore\n. He's\n risking his life for a—a stranger. A jaywalker. Not for me. Not even\n for his baby.\"\n\n\n \"Does it hurt to know that?\"\n\n\n Marcia looked into the smooth, strong face and said with genuine\n astonishment, \"Hurt? Oh, no! It's so—so big!\"\n\n\n There was a sudden thunder. Over Miss Eagen's shoulder, through the\n port, Marcia saw the stars begin to move. Miss Eagen followed her gaze.\n \"He's started the spin. You'll be all right now.\"\nMarcia could never recall the rest of the details of the trip. There\n was the outboard bulkhead that drew her like a magnet, increasingly,\n until suddenly it wasn't an attracting wall, but normally and naturally\n \"down.\" Then a needle, and another one, and a long period of deep\n drowsiness and unreality.\n\n\n But through and through that drugged, relaxed period, Jack and the\n stars, the Moon and Sue Eagen danced and wove. Words slipped in and out\n of it like shreds of melody:\n\n\n \"A man comes to love the things he has to fight for.\" And Jack\n fighting—for his ship, for the Moon, for the new-building traditions\n of the great ones who would carry humanity out to the stars.\n\n\n Sue Eagen was there, too, and the thing she shared with Jack. Of course\n there was something between them—so big a thing that there was\n nothing for her to fear in it.\n\n\n Jack and Sue Eagen had always had it, and always would have; and now\n Marcia had it too. And with understanding replacing fear, Marcia was\n free to recall that Jack had worked with Sue Eagen—but it was Marcia\n that he had loved and married.\nThere was a long time of blackness, and then a time of agony, when\n she was falling, falling, and her lungs wanted to split, explode,\n disintegrate, and someone kept saying, \"Hold tight, Marcia; hold tight\n to me,\" and she found Sue Eagen's cool strong hands in hers.\nMarcia. She called me Marcia.\nMore blackness, more pain—but not so much this time; and then a long,\n deep sleep.\n\n\n A curved ceiling, but a new curve, and soft rose instead of the\n gunmetal-and-chrome of the ship. White sheets, a new feeling of \"down\"\n that was unlike either Earth or the ship, a novel and exhilarating\n buoyancy. And kneeling by the bed—\n\n\n \"Jack!\"\n\n\n \"You're all right, honey.\"\n\n\n She raised herself on her elbow and looked out through the unglazed\n window at the ordered streets of the great Luna Dome. \"The Moon....\n Jack, you did it!\"\n\n\n He snapped his fingers. He looked like a high-school kid. \"Nothin' to\n it.\" She could see he was very proud. Very tired, too. He reached out\n to touch her.\n\n\n She drew back. \"You don't have to be sweet to me,\" she said quietly. \"I\n understand how you must feel.\"\n\n\n \"Don't\nhave\nto?\" He rose, bent over her, and slid his arms around\n her. He put his face into the shadowed warmth between her hair and her\n neck and said, \"Listen, egghead, there's no absolute scale for courage.\n We had a bad time, both of us. After it was over, and I had a chance\n to think, I used it trying to look at things through your eyes. And\n that way I found out that when you walked up that gangway, you did the\n bravest thing I've ever known anyone to do. And you did it for me. It\n doesn't matter what else happened. Sue told me a lot about you that I\n didn't know, darling. You're ... real huge for your size. As for the\n bad part of what happened—nothing like it can ever happen again, can\n it?\"\n\n\n He hugged her. After a time he reached down and touched her swelling\n waist. It was like a benediction. \"He'll be born on the Moon,\" he\n whispered, \"and he'll have eyes the color of all Earth when it looks\n out to the stars.\"\n\n\n \"\nShe'll\nbe born on the Moon,\" corrected Marcia, \"and her name will be\n Sue, and ... and she'll be almost as good as her father.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What are the thread(s) that connect Miss Eagen and Marcia?", "question_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW_1", "options": ["They are both soon-to-be mothers", "They wish to live on the Moon one day", "They both know Mr.McHenry", "They are accomplices in the plan, and know Mr. McHenry"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who is allowed to travel to the Moon?", "question_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW_2", "options": ["Only government officials", "Friends and family of those who live on the Moon", "The general public", "Only those working on the Moon to further humanity’s reach into the solar system"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the significance of the piece’s title?", "question_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW_3", "options": ["It is a similar attitude to that of Miss Eagen", "It is a comparison of disregard for the law like the Captain had to exercise", "It is a comparison of how humanity approaches space travel", "It is a comparison of one of the characters to a similar act they commit"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was on the Moon that the passengers were travelling to?", "question_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW_4", "options": ["A shopping mall", "A space terminal to go to other planets", "An experimental lab", "A colony"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What best describes Miss Eagen and the Captain’s relationship?", "question_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW_5", "options": ["They are married and expecting a baby", "Close colleagues that are bound by duty", "Secret lovers that had just been discovered", "Antagonistic colleagues that do what they need to do to work together"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How might the Captain describe his wife?", "question_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW_6", "options": ["Duty bound, stern", "Ditzy, irresponsible", "Mission-driven, courageous", "Adventurous, whimsical"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What best describes the relationship between Jack and wife?", "question_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW_7", "options": ["He is bound by duties that mean he is often away and she is usually unable to join him", "Jack won’t abandon his station on the Moon for his wife", "They both travel often for work, and their relationship has suffered", "She is constantly trying to travel with him, but he is evasive about his plans because they are in a disagreement"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why do the flight attendants check if the passengers are feeling well?", "question_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW_8", "options": ["Those with certain maladies are unable to travel in space without dying", "Feeling ill is an indication of not being emotionally prepared to go into space", "They need to be extra cautious not to transfer viruses from Earth to the Moon", "The passengers have duties to ensure the safe travel of everyone on board, so they must be in top condition"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who does Miss Eagen mistake Marcia for when she boards the ship?", "question_unique_id": "51027_FT44CSGW_9", "options": ["A high official needed expedited travel to the Moon", "An accomplice to Marcia’s plan", "Miss Eagen is not fooled about Marcia’s identity", "A stranger Marcia has never met"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0044", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/0/2/51027//51027-h//51027-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51267", "set_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "End as a Hero", "year": 1966, "author": "Laumer, Keith", "topic": "War stories; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Parapsychology -- Fiction; Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction", "article": "END AS A HERO\nBy KEITH LAUMER\n\n\n Illustrated by SCHELLING\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction June 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nGranthan's mission was the most vital of the war.\n\n It would mean instant victory—but for whom?\nI\n\n\n In the dream I was swimming in a river of white fire and the dream went\n on and on. And then I was awake—and the fire was still there, fiercely\n burning at me.\n\n\n I tried to move to get away from the flames, and then the real pain\n hit me. I tried to go back to sleep and the relative comfort of the\n river of fire, but it was no go. For better or worse, I was alive and\n conscious.\n\n\n I opened my eyes and took a look around. I was on the floor next to\n an unpadded acceleration couch—the kind the Terrestrial Space Arm\n installs in seldom-used lifeboats. There were three more couches, but\n no one in them. I tried to sit up. It wasn't easy but, by applying a\n lot more will-power than should be required of a sick man, I made it.\n I took a look at my left arm. Baked. The hand was only medium rare,\n but the forearm was black, with deep red showing at the bottom of the\n cracks where the crisped upper layers had burst....\n\n\n There was a first-aid cabinet across the compartment from me. I\n tried my right leg, felt broken bone-ends grate with a sensation\n that transcended pain. I heaved with the other leg, scrabbled with\n the charred arm. The crawl to the cabinet dwarfed Hillary's trek\n up Everest, but I reached it after a couple of years, and found the\n microswitch on the floor that activated the thing, and then I was\n fading out again....\nI came out of it clear-headed but weak. My right leg was numb, but\n reasonably comfortable, clamped tight in a walking brace. I put up\n a hand and felt a shaved skull, with sutures. It must have been a\n fracture. The left arm—well, it was still there, wrapped to the\n shoulder and held out stiffly by a power truss that would keep the scar\n tissue from pulling up and crippling me. The steady pressure as the\n truss contracted wasn't anything to do a sense-tape on for replaying at\n leisure moments, but at least the cabinet hadn't amputated. I wasn't\n complaining.\n\n\n As far as I knew, I was the first recorded survivor of contact with the\n Gool—if I survived.\n\n\n I was still a long way from home, and I hadn't yet checked on the\n condition of the lifeboat. I glanced toward the entry port. It was\n dogged shut. I could see black marks where my burned hand had been at\n work.\n\n\n I fumbled my way into a couch and tried to think. In my condition—with\n a broken leg and third-degree burns, plus a fractured skull—I\n shouldn't have been able to fall out of bed, much less make the trip\n from\nBelshazzar's\nCCC to the boat; and how had I managed to dog that\n port shut? In an emergency a man was capable of great exertions. But\n running on a broken femur, handling heavy levers with charred fingers\n and thinking with a cracked head were overdoing it. Still, I was\n here—and it was time to get a call through to TSA headquarters.\n\n\n I flipped the switch and gave the emergency call-letters Col. Ausar\n Kayle of Aerospace Intelligence had assigned to me a few weeks before.\n It was almost five minutes before the \"acknowledge\" came through from\n the Ganymede relay station, another ten minutes before Kayle's face\n swam into view. Even through the blur of the screen I could see the\n haggard look.\n\n\n \"Granthan!\" he burst out. \"Where are the others? What happened out\n there?\" I turned him down to a mutter.\n\n\n \"Hold on,\" I said. \"I'll tell you. Recorders going?\" I didn't wait for\n an answer—not with a fifteen-minute transmission lag. I plowed on:\n\n\n \"\nBelshazzar\nwas sabotaged. So was\nGilgamesh\n—I think. I got out. I\n lost a little skin, but the aid cabinet has the case in hand. Tell the\n Med people the drinks are on me.\"\n\n\n I finished talking and flopped back, waiting for Kayle's reply. On the\n screen, his flickering image gazed back impatiently, looking as hostile\n as a swing-shift ward nurse. It would be half an hour before I would\n get his reaction to my report. I dozed off—and awoke with a start.\n Kayle was talking.\n\n\n \"—your report. I won't mince words. They're wondering at your role in\n the disaster. How does it happen that you alone survived?\"\n\n\n \"How the hell do I know?\" I yelled—or croaked. But Kayle's voice was\n droning on:\n\n\n \"... you Psychodynamics people have been telling me the Gool may\n have some kind of long-range telehypnotic ability that might make it\n possible for them to subvert a loyal man without his knowledge. You've\n told me yourself that you blacked out during the attack—and came to on\n the lifeboat, with no recollection of how you got there.\n\n\n \"This is war, Granthan. War against a vicious enemy who strike without\n warning and without mercy. You were sent out to investigate the\n possibility of—what's that term you use?—hyper-cortical invasion. You\n know better than most the risk I'd be running if you were allowed to\n pass the patrol line.\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Granthan. I can't let you land on Earth. I can't accept\n the risk.\"\n\n\n \"What do I do now?\" I stormed. \"Go into orbit and eat pills and hope\n you think of something? I need a doctor!\"\n\n\n Presently Kayle replied. \"Yes,\" he said. \"You'll have to enter a\n parking orbit. Perhaps there will be developments soon which will make\n it possible to ... ah ... restudy the situation.\" He didn't meet my\n eye. I knew what he was thinking. He'd spare me the mental anguish of\n knowing what was coming. I couldn't really blame him; he was doing\n what he thought was the right thing. And I'd have to go along and\n pretend—right up until the warheads struck—that I didn't know I'd\n been condemned to death.\nII\n\n\n I tried to gather my wits and think my way through the situation. I\n was alone and injured, aboard a lifeboat that would be the focus of a\n converging flight of missiles as soon as I approached within battery\n range of Earth. I had gotten clear of the Gool, but I wouldn't survive\n my next meeting with my own kind. They couldn't take the chance that I\n was acting under Gool orders.\n\n\n I wasn't, of course. I was still the same Peter Granthan,\n psychodynamicist, who had started out with Dayan's fleet six weeks\n earlier. The thoughts I was having weren't brilliant, but they were\n mine, all mine....\n\n\n But how could I be sure of that?\n\n\n Maybe there was something in Kayle's suspicion. If the Gool were as\n skillful as we thought, they would have left no overt indications of\n their tampering—not at a conscious level.\n\n\n But this was where psychodynamics training came in. I had been reacting\n like any scared casualty, aching to get home and lick his wounds. But I\n wasn't just any casualty. I had been trained in the subtleties of the\n mind—and I had been prepared for just such an attack.\n\n\n Now was the time to make use of that training. It had given me one\n resource. I could unlock the memories of my subconscious—and see again\n what had happened.\n\n\n I lay back, cleared my mind of extraneous thoughts, and concentrated on\n the trigger word that would key an auto-hypnotic sequence....\n\n\n Sense impressions faded. I was alone in the nebulous emptiness of a\n first-level trance. I keyed a second word, slipped below the misty\n surface into a dreamworld of vague phantasmagoric figures milling in\n their limbo of sub-conceptualization. I penetrated deeper, broke\n through into the vividly hallucinatory third level, where images of\n mirror-bright immediacy clamored for attention. And deeper....\nThe immense orderly confusion of the basic memory level lay before\n me. Abstracted from it, aloof and observant, the monitoring\n personality-fraction scanned the pattern, searching the polydimensional\n continuum for evidence of an alien intrusion.\n\n\n And found it.\n\n\n As the eye instantaneously detects a flicker of motion amid an infinity\n of static detail, so my inner eye perceived the subtle traces of the\n probing Gool mind, like a whispered touch deftly rearranging my buried\n motivations.\n\n\n I focused selectively, tuned to the recorded gestalt.\n\n\n \"\nIt is a contact, Effulgent One!\n\"\n\n\n \"\nSoftly, now! Nurture the spark well. It but trembles at the\n threshold....\n\"\n\n\n \"\nIt is elusive, Master! It wriggles like a gorm-worm in the eating\n trough!\n\"\n\n\n A part of my mind watched as the memory unreeled. I listened to the\n voices—yet not voices, merely the shape of concepts, indescribably\n intricate. I saw how the decoy pseudo-personality which I had\n concretized for the purpose in a hundred training sessions had fought\n against the intruding stimuli—then yielded under the relentless thrust\n of the alien probe. I watched as the Gool operator took over the motor\n centers, caused me to crawl through the choking smoke of the devastated\n control compartment toward the escape hatch. Fire leaped up, blocking\n the way. I went on, felt ghostly flames whipping at me—and then the\n hatch was open and I pulled myself through, forcing the broken leg.\n My blackened hand fumbled at the locking wheel. Then the blast as\n the lifeboat leaped clear of the disintegrating dreadnought—and the\n world-ending impact as I fell.\n\n\n At a level far below the conscious, the embattled pseudo-personality\n lashed out again—fighting the invader.\n\n\n \"\nAlmost it eluded me then, Effulgent Lord. Link with this lowly one!\n\"\n\n\n \"\nImpossible! Do you forget all my teachings? Cling, though you expend\n the last filament of your life-force!\n\"\n\n\n Free from all distraction, at a level where comprehension and retention\n are instantaneous and total, my monitoring basic personality fraction\n followed the skillful Gool mind as it engraved its commands deep in\n my subconscious. Then the touch withdrew, erasing the scars of its\n passage, to leave me unaware of its tampering—at a conscious level.\n\n\n Watching the Gool mind, I learned.\n\n\n The insinuating probe—a concept regarding which psychodynamicists had\n theorized—was no more than a pattern in emptiness....\n\n\n But a pattern which I could duplicate, now that I had seen what had\n been done to me.\n\n\n Hesitantly, I felt for the immaterial fabric of the continuum, warping\n and manipulating it, copying the Gool probe. Like planes of paper-thin\n crystal, the polyfinite aspects of reality shifted into focus, aligning\n themselves.\n\n\n Abruptly, a channel lay open. As easily as I would stretch out my hand\n to pluck a moth from a night-flower, I reached across the unimaginable\n void—and sensed a pit blacker than the bottom floor of hell, and a\n glistening dark shape.\n\n\n There was a soundless shriek. \"\nEffulgence! It reached out—touched\n me!\n\"\nUsing the technique I had grasped from the Gool itself, I struck,\n stifling the outcry, invaded the fetid blackness and grappled the\n obscene gelatinous immensity of the Gool spy as it spasmed in a frenzy\n of xenophobia—a ton of liver writhing at the bottom of a dark well.\n\n\n I clamped down control. The Gool mind folded in on itself, gibbering.\n Not pausing to rest, I followed up, probed along my channel of contact,\n tracing patterns, scanning the flaccid Gool mind....\n\n\n I saw a world of yellow seas lapping at endless shores of mud. There\n was a fuming pit, where liquid sulphur bubbled up from some inner\n source, filling an immense natural basin. The Gool clustered at its\n rim, feeding, each monstrous shape heaving against its neighbors for a\n more favorable position.\nI probed farther, saw the great cables of living nervous tissue that\n linked each eating organ with the brain-mass far underground. I traced\n the passages through which tendrils ran out to immense caverns where\n smaller creatures labored over strange devices. These, my host's memory\n told me, were the young of the Gool. Here they built the fleets that\n would transport the spawn to the new worlds the Prime Overlord had\n discovered, worlds where food was free for the taking. Not sulphur\n alone, but potassium, calcium, iron and all the metals—riches\n beyond belief in endless profusion. No longer would the Gool tribe\n cluster—those who remained of a once-great race—at a single feeding\n trough. They would spread out across a galaxy—and beyond.\n\n\n But not if I could help it.\n\n\n The Gool had evolved a plan—but they'd had a stroke of bad luck.\n\n\n In the past, they had managed to control a man here and there, among\n the fleets, far from home, but only at a superficial level. Enough,\n perhaps, to wreck a ship, but not the complete control needed to send a\n man back to Earth under Gool compulsion, to carry out complex sabotage.\n\n\n Then they had found me, alone, a sole survivor, free from the clutter\n of the other mind-fields. It had been their misfortune to pick a\n psychodynamicist. Instead of gaining a patient slave, they had opened\n the fortress door to an unseen spy. Now that I was there, I would see\n what I could steal.\n\n\n A timeless time passed. I wandered among patterns of white light and\n white sound, plumbed the deepest recesses of hidden Gool thoughts,\n fared along strange ways examining the shapes and colors of the\n concepts of an alien mind.\n\n\n I paused at last, scanning a multi-ordinal structure of pattern within\n pattern; the diagrammed circuits of a strange machine.\n\n\n I followed through its logic-sequence; and, like a bomb-burst, its\n meaning exploded in my mind.\n\n\n From the vile nest deep under the dark surface of the Gool world in\n its lonely trans-Plutonian orbit, I had plucked the ultimate secret of\n their kind.\n\n\n Matter across space.\n\"You've got to listen to me, Kayle,\" I shouted. \"I know you think I'm\n a Gool robot. But what I have is too big to let you blow it up without\n a fight. Matter transmission! You know what that can mean to us. The\n concept is too complex to try to describe in words. You'll have to take\n my word for it. I can build it, though, using standard components, plus\n an infinite-area antenna and a moebius-wound coil—and a few other\n things....\"\n\n\n I harangued Kayle for a while, and then sweated out his answer. I was\n getting close now. If he couldn't see the beauty of my proposal, my\n screens would start to register the radiation of warheads any time now.\n\n\n Kayle came back—and his answer boiled down to \"no.\"\n\n\n I tried to reason with him. I reminded him how I had readied myself\n for the trip with sessions on the encephaloscope, setting up the\n cross-networks of conditioned defensive responses, the shunt circuits\n to the decoy pseudo-personality, leaving my volitional ego free. I\n talked about subliminal hypnotics and the resilience quotient of the\n ego-complex.\n\n\n I might have saved my breath.\n\n\n \"I don't understand that psychodynamics jargon, Granthan,\" he snapped.\n \"It smacks of mysticism. But I understand what the Gool have done to\n you well enough. I'm sorry.\"\n\n\n I leaned back and chewed the inside of my lip and thought unkind\n thoughts about Colonel Ausar Kayle. Then I settled down to solve the\n problem at hand.\n\n\n I keyed the chart file, flashed pages from the standard index on the\n reference screen, checking radar coverages, beacon ranges, monitor\n stations, controller fields. It looked as though a radar-negative boat\n the size of mine might possibly get through the defensive net with a\n daring pilot, and as a condemned spy, I could afford to be daring.\n\n\n And I had a few ideas.\nIII\n\n\n The shrilling of the proximity alarm blasted through the silence. For a\n wild moment I thought Kayle had beaten me to the punch; then I realized\n it was the routine DEW line patrol contact.\n\n\n \"Z four-oh-two, I am reading your IFF. Decelerate at 1.8 gee\n preparatory to picking up approach orbit....\"\n\n\n The screen went on droning out instructions. I fed them into the\n autopilot, at the same time running over my approach plan. The scout\n was moving in closer. I licked dry lips. It was time to try.\n\n\n I closed my eyes, reached out—as the Gool mind had reached out to\n me—and felt the touch of a Signals Officer's mind, forty thousand\n miles distant, aboard the patrol vessel. There was a brief flurry of\n struggle; then I dictated my instructions. The Signals Officer punched\n keys, spoke into his microphone:\n\n\n \"As you were, Z four-oh-two. Continue on present course. At Oh-nineteen\n seconds, pick up planetary for re-entry and let-down.\"\n\n\n I blanked out the man's recollection of what had happened, caught his\n belated puzzlement as I broke contact. But I was clear of the DEW line\n now, rapidly approaching atmosphere.\n\n\n \"Z four-oh-two,\" the speaker crackled. \"This is planetary control. I am\n picking you up on channel forty-three, for re-entry and let-down.\"\n\n\n There was a long pause. Then:\n\n\n \"Z four-oh-two, countermand DEW Line clearance! Repeat, clearance\n countermanded! Emergency course change to standard hyperbolic code\n ninety-eight. Do not attempt re-entry. Repeat: do not attempt re-entry!\"\n\n\n It hadn't taken Kayle long to see that I'd gotten past the outer line\n of defense. A few more minutes' grace would have helped. I'd play it\n dumb, and hope for a little luck.\n\n\n \"Planetary, Z four-oh-two here. Say, I'm afraid I missed part of that,\n fellows. I'm a little banged up—I guess I switched frequencies on you.\n What was that after 'pick up channel forty-three'...?\"\n\n\n \"Four-oh-two, sheer off there! You're not cleared for re-entry!\"\n\n\n \"Hey, you birds are mixed up,\" I protested. \"I'm cleared all the way. I\n checked in with DEW—\"\n\n\n It was time to disappear. I blanked off all transmission, hit the\n controls, following my evasive pattern. And again I reached out—\n\n\n A radar man at a site in the Pacific, fifteen thousand miles away, rose\n from his chair, crossed the darkened room and threw a switch. The radar\n screens blanked off....\n\n\n For an hour I rode the long orbit down, fending off attack after\n attack. Then I was clear, skimming the surface of the ocean a few miles\n southeast of Key West. The boat hit hard. I felt the floor rise up,\n over, buffeting me against the restraining harness.\n\n\n I hauled at the release lever, felt a long moment of giddy\n disorientation as the escape capsule separated from the sinking\n lifeboat deep under the surface. Then my escape capsule was bobbing on\n the water.\n\n\n I would have to risk calling Kayle now—but by voluntarily giving my\n position away, I should convince him I was still on our side—and I was\n badly in need of a pick-up. I flipped the sending key.\n\n\n \"This is Z four-oh-two,\" I said. \"I have an urgent report for Colonel\n Kayle of Aerospace Intelligence.\"\n\n\n Kayle's face appeared. \"Don't fight it, Granthan,\" he croaked. \"You\n penetrated the planetary defenses—God knows how. I—\"\n\n\n \"Later,\" I snapped. \"How about calling off your dogs now? And send\n somebody out here to pick me up, before I add sea-sickness to my other\n complaints.\"\n\n\n \"We have you pinpointed,\" Kayle cut in. \"It's no use fighting it,\n Granthan.\"\nI felt cold sweat pop out on my forehead. \"You've got to listen,\n Kayle,\" I shouted. \"I suppose you've got missiles on the way already.\n Call them back! I have information that can win the war—\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Granthan,\" Kayle said. \"It's too late—even if I could\n take the chance you were right.\"\n\n\n A different face appeared on the screen.\n\n\n \"Mr. Granthan, I am General Titus. On behalf of your country, and\n in the name of the President—who has been apprised of this tragic\n situation—it is my privilege to inform you that you will be awarded\n the Congressional Medal of Honor—posthumously—for your heroic effort.\n Although you failed, and have in fact been forced, against your will,\n to carry out the schemes of the inhuman enemy, this in no way detracts\n from your gallant attempt. Mr. Granthan, I salute you.\"\n\n\n The general's arm went up in a rigid gesture.\n\n\n \"Stow that, you pompous idiot!\" I barked. \"I'm no spy!\"\n\n\n Kayle was back, blanking out the startled face of the general.\n\n\n \"Goodbye, Granthan. Try to understand....\"\n\n\n I flipped the switch, sat gripping the couch, my stomach rising with\n each heave of the floating escape capsule. I had perhaps five minutes.\n The missiles would be from Canaveral.\n\n\n I closed my eyes, forced myself to relax, reached out....\n\n\n I sensed the distant shore, the hot buzz of human minds at work in the\n cities. I followed the coastline, found the Missile Base, flicked\n through the cluster of minds.\n\n\n \"—\nmissile on course; do right, baby. That's it, right in the slot.\n\"\n\n\n I fingered my way through the man's mind and found the control centers.\n He turned stiffly from the plotting board, tottered to a panel to slam\n his hand against the destruct button.\n\n\n Men fell on him, dragged him back. \"—\nfool, why did you blow it?\n\"\n\n\n I dropped the contact, found another, who leaped to the panel,\n detonated the remainder of the flight of six missiles. Then I withdrew.\n I would have a few minutes' stay of execution now.\n\n\n I was ten miles from shore. The capsule had its own power plant. I\n started it up, switched on the external viewer. I saw dark sea, the\n glint of star-light on the choppy surface, in the distance a glow on\n the horizon that would be Key West. I plugged the course into the\n pilot, then leaned back and felt outward with my mind for the next\n attacker.\nIV\n\n\n It was dark in the trainyard. I moved along the tracks in a stumbling\n walk. Just a few more minutes, I was telling myself.\nA few more\n minutes and you can lie down ... rest....\nThe shadowed bulk of a box car loomed up, its open door a blacker\n square. I leaned against the sill, breathing hard, then reached inside\n for a grip with my good hand.\n\n\n Gravel scrunched nearby. The beam of a flashlight lanced out, slipped\n along the weathered car, caught me. There was a startled exclamation.\n I ducked back, closed my eyes, felt out for his mind. There was a\n confused murmur of thought, a random intrusion of impressions from the\n city all around. It was hard, too hard. I had to sleep—\n\n\n I heard the snick of a revolver being cocked, and dropped flat as a\n gout of flame stabbed toward me, the imperative Bam! echoing between\n the cars. I caught the clear thought:\n\n\n \"God-awful looking, shaved head, arm stuck out; him all right—\"\n\n\n I reached out to his mind and struck at random. The light fell, went\n out, and I heard the unconscious body slam to the ground like a poled\n steer.\n\n\n It was easy—if I could only stay awake.\n\n\n I gritted my teeth, pulled myself into the car, crawled to a dark\n corner behind a crate and slumped down. I tried to evoke a personality\n fraction to set as a guard, a part of my mind to stay awake and warn\n me of danger. It was too much trouble. I relaxed and let it all slide\n down into darkness.\nThe car swayed, click-clack, click-clack. I opened my eyes, saw yellow\n sunlight in a bar across the litter on the floor. The power truss\n creaked, pulling at my arm. My broken leg was throbbing its indignation\n at the treatment it had received—walking brace and all—and the burned\n arm was yelling aloud for more of that nice dope that had been keeping\n it from realizing how bad it was. All things considered, I felt like a\n badly embalmed mummy—except that I was hungry. I had been a fool not\n to fill my pockets when I left the escape capsule in the shallows off\n Key Largo, but things had been happening too fast.\n\n\n I had barely made it to the fishing boat, whose owner I had coerced\n into rendezvousing with me before shells started dropping around us. If\n the gunners on the cruiser ten miles away had had any luck, they would\n have finished me—and the hapless fisherman—right then. We rode out a\n couple of near misses, before I put the cruiser's gunnery crew off the\n air.\n\n\n At a fishing camp on the beach, I found a car—with driver. He dropped\n me at the railyard, and drove off under the impression he was in town\n for groceries. He'd never believe he'd seen me.\n\n\n Now I'd had my sleep. I had to start getting ready for the next act of\n the farce.\n\n\n I pressed the release on the power truss, gingerly unclamped it, then\n rigged a sling from a strip of shirt tail. I tied the arm to my side as\n inconspicuously as possible. I didn't disturb the bandages.\n\n\n I needed new clothes—or at least different ones—and something to\n cover my shaved skull. I couldn't stay hidden forever. The yard cop had\n recognized me at a glance.\n\n\n I lay back, waiting for the train to slow for a town. I wasn't unduly\n worried—at the moment. The watchman probably hadn't convinced anyone\n he'd actually seen me. Maybe he hadn't been too sure himself.\n\n\n The click-clack slowed and the train shuddered to a stop. I crept to\n the door, peered through the crack. There were sunny fields, a few low\n buildings in the distance, the corner of a platform. I closed my eyes\n and let my awareness stretch out.\n\n\n \"—\nlousy job. What's the use? Little witch in the lunch room ... up in\n the hills, squirrel hunting, bottle of whiskey....\n\"\n\n\n I settled into control gently, trying not to alarm the man. I saw\n through his eyes the dusty box car, the rust on the tracks, the\n listless weeds growing among cinders, and the weathered boards of\n the platform. I turned him, and saw the dingy glass of the telegraph\n window, a sagging screen door with a chipped enameled cola sign.\n\n\n I walked the man to the door, and through it. Behind a linoleum-topped\n counter, a coarse-skinned teen-age girl with heavy breasts and wet\n patches under her arms looked up without interest as the door banged.\n\n\n My host went on to the counter, gestured toward the waxed-paper-wrapped\n sandwiches under a glass cover. \"I'll take 'em all. And candy bars, and\n cigarettes. And give me a big glass of water.\"\n\n\n \"Better git out there and look after yer train,\" the girl said\n carelessly. \"When'd you git so all-fired hungry all of a sudden?\"\n\n\n \"Put it in a bag. Quick.\"\n\n\n \"Look who's getting bossy—\"\n\n\n My host rounded the counter, picked up a used paper bag, began stuffing\n food in it. The girl stared at him, then pushed him back. \"You git back\n around that counter!\"\n\n\n She filled the bag, took a pencil from behind her ear.\n\n\n \"That'll be one eighty-five. Cash.\"\n\n\n My host took two dog-eared bills from his shirt pocket, dropped them\n on the counter and waited while the girl filled a glass. He picked it\n up and started out.\n\n\n \"Hey! Where you goin' with my glass?\"\n\n\n The trainman crossed the platform, headed for the boxcar. He slid the\n loose door back a few inches against the slack latch, pushed the bag\n inside, placed the glass of water beside it, then pulled off his grimy\n railroader's cap and pushed it through the opening. He turned. The girl\n watched from the platform. A rattle passed down the line and the train\n started up with a lurch. The man walked back toward the girl. I heard\n him say: \"Friend o' mine in there—just passin' through.\"\n\n\n I was discovering that it wasn't necessary to hold tight control over\n every move of a subject. Once given the impulse to act, he would\n rationalize his behavior, fill in the details—and never know that the\n original idea hadn't been his own.\n\n\n I drank the water first, ate a sandwich, then lit a cigarette and lay\n back. So far so good. The crates in the car were marked \"U. S. Naval\n Aerospace Station, Bayou Le Cochon\". With any luck I'd reach New\n Orleans in another twelve hours. The first step of my plan included a\n raid on the Delta National Labs; but that was tomorrow. That could\n wait.\nIt was a little before dawn when I crawled out of the car at a siding\n in the swampy country a few miles out of New Orleans. I wasn't feeling\n good, but I had a stake in staying on my feet. I still had a few miles\n in me. I had my supplies—a few candy bars and some cigarettes—stuffed\n in the pockets of the tattered issue coverall. Otherwise, I was\n unencumbered. Unless you wanted to count the walking brace on my right\n leg and the sling binding my arm.\n\n\n I picked my way across mushy ground to a pot-holed black-top road,\n started limping toward a few car lights visible half a mile away. It\n was already hot. The swamp air was like warmed-over subway fumes.\n Through the drugs, I could feel my pulse throbbing in my various\n wounds. I reached out and touched the driver's mind; he was thinking\n about shrimps, a fish-hook wound on his left thumb and a girl with\n black hair. \"Want a lift?\" he called.\n\n\n I thanked him and got in. He gave me a glance and I pinched off his\n budding twinge of curiosity. It was almost an effort now not to follow\n his thoughts. It was as though my mind, having learned the trick of\n communications with others, instinctively reached out toward them.\n\n\n An hour later he dropped me on a street corner in a shabby marketing\n district of the city and drove off. I hoped he made out all right with\n the dark-haired girl. I spotted a used-clothing store and headed for it.\n\n\n Twenty minutes later I was back on the sidewalk, dressed in a\n pinkish-gray suit that had been cut a long time ago by a Latin\n tailor—maybe to settle a grudge. The shirt that went with it was\n an unsuccessful violet. The black string tie lent a dubious air of\n distinction. I'd swapped the railroader's cap for a tarnished beret.\n The man who had supplied the outfit was still asleep. I figured\n I'd done him a favor by taking it. I couldn't hope to pass for a\n fisherman—I wasn't the type. Maybe I'd get by as a coffee-house\n derelict.\n\n\n I walked past fly-covered fish stalls, racks of faded garments, grimy\n vegetables in bins, enough paint-flaked wrought iron to cage a herd of\n brontosauri, and fetched up at a cab stand. I picked a fat driver with\n a wart.\n\n\n \"How much to the Delta National Laboratories?\"\n\n\n He rolled an eye toward me, shifted his toothpick.\n\n\n \"What ya wanna go out there for? Nothing out there.\"\n\n\n \"I'm a tourist,\" I said. \"They told me before I left home not to miss\n it.\"\n\n\n He grunted, reached back and opened the door. I got in. He flipped his\n flag down, started up with a clash of gears and pulled out without\n looking.\n\n\n \"How far is it?\" I asked him.\n\n\n \"It ain't far. Mile, mile and a quarter.\"\n\n\n \"Pretty big place, I guess.\"\n\n\n He didn't answer.\n\n\n We went through a warehousing district, swung left along the\n waterfront, bumped over railroad tracks, and pulled up at a nine-foot\n cyclone fence with a locked gate.\n\n\n \"A buck ten,\" my driver said.\n\n\n I looked out at the fence, a barren field, a distant group of low\n buildings. \"What's this?\"\n\n\n \"This is the place you ast for. That'll be a buck ten, mister.\"\n\n\n I touched his mind, planted a couple of false impressions and withdrew.\n He blinked, then started up, drove around the field, pulled up at an\n open gate with a blue-uniformed guard. He looked back at me.\n\n\n \"You want I should drive in, sir?\"\n\n\n \"I'll get out here.\"\n\n\n He jumped out, opened my door, helped me out with a hand under my good\n elbow. \"I'll get your change, sir,\" he said, reaching for his hip.\n\n\n \"Keep it.\"\n\n\n \"Thank YOU.\" He hesitated. \"Maybe I oughta stick around. You know.\"\n\n\n \"I'll be all right.\"\n\n\n \"I hope so,\" he said. \"A man like you—you and me—\" he winked. \"After\n all, we ain't both wearing berets fer nothing.\"\n\n\n \"True,\" I said. \"Consider your tip doubled. Now drive away into the\n sunrise and forget you ever saw me.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was the passage of time over the course of the story?", "question_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB_1", "options": ["Days", "Months", "Hours", "Weeks"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who made the mistake that allowed Peter to return to Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB_2", "options": ["There was no mistake", "The missile operator that miscalculated trajectory to Peter’s ship", "The mission’s control programming which auto-routed him home in the escape pod", "The operator of the security net around Earth"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does Peter intend to do upon his return to Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB_3", "options": ["Initiate nuclear war across Earth", "Infiltrate military headquarters and report back to the Gool", "Cause harm to the people who chose to let him die for fear of his control by the Gool", "Explain his discoveries"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What do we know about Peter’s mental abilities?", "question_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB_4", "options": ["He discovered through his training that he can manipulate telepathically", "He is being controlled by the Gool", "He is only imagining that he has telepathy since he has gone mad", "He has known his telepathy since childhood and that’s why he went into psychodynamics"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What information does Peter obtain that the Gool kept hidden?", "question_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB_5", "options": ["The location of a wormhole to distant resource-rich planets", "They are telepathic", "They have cloning technology", "They solved teleportation"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the mission of the Gool?", "question_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB_6", "options": ["Use control of Peter to ship them resources from Earth to sustain their people", "Expand their kind through the universe", "Take control of Earth and move their colony there", "Crumble Earth’s military resources"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Peter act outwardly?", "question_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB_7", "options": ["Egotistical, Rude", "Maniacally", "Aloof", "Discrete, calculated"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many times did the Gool probe Peter’s mind?", "question_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB_8", "options": ["Twice", "The Gool never succeeded in probing his brain", "He never found out", "Once"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Peter on a trip to contact the Gool?", "question_unique_id": "51267_AQABCPUB_9", "options": ["His mission included studying Gool mental capacities", "He piloted the spaceship on the mission to contact the Gool", "His mission was to infiltrate the minds of the Gool and sabotage them from inside", "Earth wanted to test his telepathic abilities on their Gool enemies"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/6/51267//51267-h//51267-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51351", "set_unique_id": "51351_HAXFQ1YV", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Spicy Sound of Success", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Science fiction; Space ships -- Fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "THE SPICY SOUND OF SUCCESS\nBy JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by DICK FRANCIS\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine August 1959.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nNow was the captain's chance to prove he knew\n \nless than the crew—all their lives hung upon it!\nThere was nothing showing on the video screen. That was why we were\n looking at it so analytically.\n\n\n \"Transphasia, that's what it is,\" Ordinary Spaceman Quade stated with\n a definite thrust of his angular jaw in my direction. \"You can take my\n word on that, Captain Gavin.\"\n\n\n \"Can't,\" I told him. \"I can't trust your opinion. I can't trust\nanything\n. That's why I'm Captain.\"\n\n\n \"You'll get over feeling like that.\"\n\n\n \"I know. Then I'll become First Officer.\"\n\n\n \"But look at that screen, sir,\" Quade said with an emphatic swing of\n his scarred arm. \"I've seen blank scanning like that before and you\n haven't—it's your first trip. This always means transphasia—cortex\n dissolution, motor area feedback, the Aitchell Effect—call it anything\n you like, it's still transphasia.\"\n\n\n \"I know what transphasia is,\" I said moderately. \"It means an\n electrogravitational disturbance of incoming sense data, rechanneling\n it to the wrong receptive areas. Besides the human brain, it also\n effects electronic equipment, like radar and television.\"\n\n\n \"Obviously.\" Quade glanced disgustedly at the screen.\n\n\n \"Too obvious. This time it might not be a familiar condition of many\n planetary gravitational fields. On this planet, that blank kinescope\n may mean our Big Brother kites were knocked down by hostile natives.\"\n\n\n \"You are plain wrong, Captain. Traditionally, alien races never\n interfere with our explorations. Generally, they are so alien to us\n they can't even recognize our existence.\"\nI drew myself up to my full height—and noticed in irritation it was\n still an inch less than Quade's. \"I don't understand you men. Look at\n yourself, Quade. You've been busted to Ordinary Spaceman for just that\n kind of thinking, for relying on tradition, on things that have worked\n before. Not only your thinking is slipshod, you've grown careless about\n everything else, even your own life.\"\n\n\n \"Just a minute, Captain. I've never been 'busted.' In the Exploration\n Service, we regard Ordinary Spaceman as our highest rank. With my\n hazard pay, I get more hard cash than\nyou\ndo, and I'm closer to\n retirement.\"\n\n\n \"That's a shallow excuse for complacency.\"\n\n\n \"Complacency! I've seen ten thousand wonders in twenty years of space,\n with a million variations. But the patterns repeat themselves. We learn\n to know what to expect, so maybe we can't maintain the reactionary\n caution the service likes in officers.\"\n\n\n \"I resent the word 'reactionary,' Spaceman! In civilian life, I was\n a lapidary and I learned the value of deliberation. But I never got\n too cataleptic to tap a million-dollar gem, which is more than my\n contemporaries can say, many of 'em.\"\n\n\n \"Captain Gavin,\" Quade said patiently, \"you must realize that an\n outsider like you, among a crew of skilled spacemen, can never be more\n than a figurehead.\"\n\n\n Was this the way I was to be treated? Why, this man had deliberately\n insulted me, his captain. I controlled myself, remembering the\n familiarity that had always existed between members of a crew working\n under close conditions, from the time of the ancient submarines and the\n first orbital ships.\n\n\n \"Quade,\" I said, \"there's only one way for us to find out which of us\n is right about the cause of our scanning blackout.\"\n\n\n \"We go out and find the reason.\"\n\n\n \"Exactly. We go. You and me. I hope you can stand my company.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not sure I can,\" he answered reluctantly. \"My hazard pay doesn't\n cover exploring with rookies. With all due respect, Captain.\"\n\n\n I clapped him on the shoulder. \"But, man, you have just been telling\n me all we had to worry about was common transphasia. A man with your\n experience could protect himself and cover even a rookie, under such\n familiar conditions—right?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir, I suppose I could,\" Quade said, bitterly aware he had lost\n out somewhere and hoping that it wasn't the start of a trend.\n\"Looks okay to me,\" I said. Quade passed a gauntlet over his faceplate.\n \"It's real. I can blur it with a smudged visor. When it blurs, it's\n solid.\"\n\n\n The landscape beyond the black corona left by our landing rockets was\n unimpressive. The rocky desert was made up of silicon and iron oxide,\n so it looked much the same as a terrestrial location. Yellowish-white\n sand ran up to and around reddish brown rock clawing into the pink\n sunlight.\n\n\n \"I don't understand it,\" Quade admitted. \"Transphasia hits you a foul\n as soon as you let it into the airlock.\"\n\n\n \"Apparently, Quade,\nthis\nthing is going to creep up on us.\"\n\n\n \"Don't sound smug, Captain. It's pitty-pattying behind you too.\"\n\n\n The keening call across the surface of consciousness postponed my reply.\n\n\n The wail was ominously forlorn, defiant of description. I turned my\n head around slowly inside my helmet, not even sure that I had heard it.\n\n\n But what else can you do with a wail but\nhear\nit?\n\n\n Quade nodded. \"I've felt this before. It usually hits sooner. Let's\n trace it.\"\n\n\n \"I don't like this,\" I admitted. \"It's not at all what I expected from\n what you said about transphasia. It must be something else.\"\n\n\n \"It couldn't be anything else. I know what to expect. You don't. You\n may begin smelling sensations, tasting sounds, hearing sights, seeing\n tastes, touching odors—or any other combination. Don't let it bother\n you.\"\n\n\n \"Of course not. I'll soothe my nerves by counting little shocks of\n lanolin jumping over a loud fence.\"\n\n\n Quade grinned behind his faceplate. \"Good idea.\"\n\n\n \"Then you can have it. I'm going to try keeping my eyes open and\n staying alive.\"\n\n\n There was no reply.\n\n\n His expression was tart and greasy despite all his light talk, and\n I knew mine was the same. I tested the security rope between our\n pressure suits. It was a taut and virile bass.\n\n\n We scaled a staccato of rocks, our suits grinding pepper against our\n hides.\n\n\n The musk summit rose before us, a minor-key horizon with a shifting\n treble for as far as I could smell. It was primitive beauty that made\n you feel shocking pink inside. The most beautiful vista I had ever\n tasted, it couldn't be dulled even by the sensation of beef broth under\n my skin.\n\n\n \"Is this transphasia?\" I asked in awe.\n\n\n \"It always has been before,\" Quade remarked. \"Ready to swallow your\n words about this being something an old hand wouldn't recognize,\n Captain?\"\n\n\n \"I'm swallowing no words until I find out precisely how they taste\n here.\"\n\n\n \"Not a bad taste. They're pretty. Or haven't you noticed?\"\n\n\n \"Quade, you're right! About the colors anyway. This reminds me of an\n illiscope recording from a cybernetic translator.\"\n\n\n \"It should. I don't suppose we could understand each other if it wasn't\n for our morphistudy courses in reading cross-sense translations of\n Centauri blushtalk and the like.\"\n\n\n It became difficult to understand him, difficult to try talking in the\n face of such splendor. You never really appreciate colors until you\n smell them for the first time.\nQuade was as conversational as ever, though. \"I can't see\n irregularities occurring in a gravitational field. We must have\n compensated for the transphasia while we still had a point of\n reference, the solid reality of the spaceship. But out here, where all\n we have to hang onto is each other, our concept of reality goes\nbang\nand deflates to a tired joke.\"\n\n\n Before I could agree with one of his theories for once, a streak of\n spice shot past us. It bounced back tangily and made a bitter rip\n between the two of us. There was no time to judge its size, if it had\n size, or its decibel range, or its caloric count, before a small, sharp\n pain dug in and dwindled down to nothing in one long second.\n\n\n The new odor pattern in my head told me Quade was saying something I\n couldn't quite make out.\n\n\n Quade then pulled me in the direction of the nasty little pain.\n\n\n \"Wait a minute, Spaceman!\" I bellowed. \"Where the devil do you think\n you're dragging me? Halt! That's a direct order.\"\n\n\n He stopped. \"Don't you want to find out what that was? This\nis\nan\n exploration party, you know, sir.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not sure I do want to find out what that was just now. I didn't\n like the feel of it. But the important thing is for us not to get any\n further from the ship.\"\n\n\n \"That's important, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"To the best of my judgment, yes. This—condition—didn't begin until\n we got so far away from the spacer—in time or distance. I don't want\n it to get any worse. It's troublesome not to know black from white, but\n it would be a downright inconvenience not to know which way is up.\"\n\n\n \"Not for an experienced spaceman,\" Quade griped. \"I'm used to\n free-fall.\"\n\n\n But he turned back.\n\n\n \"Just a minute,\" I said. \"There was something strange up ahead. I want\n to see if short-range radar can get through our electrogravitational\n jamming here.\"\n\n\n I took a sighting. My helmet set projected the pattern on the cornea.\n Sweetness building up to a stab of pure salt—those were the blips.\n\n\n Beside me, there was a thin thread of violet. Quade had whistled. He\n was reading the map too.\n\n\n The slope fell away sharply in front of us, becoming a deep gorge.\n There was something broken and twisted at the bottom, something we had\n known for an instant as a streak of spice.\n\n\n \"There's one free-fall,\" I said, \"where you wouldn't live long enough\n to get used to it.\"\n\n\n He said nothing on the route back to the spacer.\n\"I know all about this sort of thing, Gav,\" First Officer Nagurski said\n expansively. He was rubbing the well-worn ears of our beagle mascot,\n Bruce. A heavy tail thudded on the steel deck from time to time.\n\n\n My finger could barely get in the chafing band of my regulation collar.\n I was hot and tired, fresh—in only the chronological sense—from a\n pressure suit.\n\n\n \"What do you know all about, Nagurski? Dogs? Spacemen? Women?\n Transphasia?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" he answered casually. \"But I had immediate reference to our\n current psychophysiological phenomenon.\"\n\n\n I collapsed into the swivel in front of the chart table. \"First off,\n let's hear what you know about—never mind, make it dogs.\"\n\n\n \"Take Bruce, for example, then—\"\n\n\n \"No, thanks. I was wondering why\nyou\ndid.\"\n\n\n \"I didn't.\" His dark, round face was bland. \"Bruce picked me. Followed\n me home one night in Chicago Port. The dog or the man who picks his own\n master is the most content.\"\n\n\n \"Bruce is content,\" I admitted. \"He couldn't be any more content and\n still be alive. But I'm not sure that theory works out with men. We'd\n have anarchy if I tried to let these starbucks pick their own master.\"\n\n\n \"\nI\nhad no trouble when I was a captain,\" Nagurski said. \"Ease the\n reins on the men. Just offer them your advice, your guidance. They\n will soon see why the service selected you as captain; they will pick\n you themselves.\"\n\n\n \"Did your crew voluntarily elect you as their leader?\"\n\n\n \"Of course they did, Gav. I'm an old hand at controlling crews.\"\n\n\n \"Then why are you First Officer under me now?\"\n\n\n He blinked, then decided to laugh. \"I've been in space a good many\n years. I really wanted to relax a little bit more. Besides, the\n increase in hazard pay was actually more than my salary as a captain.\n I'm a notch nearer retirement too.\"\n\n\n \"Tell me, did you always feel this way about letting the men select\n their own leader?\"\nNagurski brought out a pipe. He would have a pipe, I decided.\n\n\n \"No, not always. I was like you at first. Fresh from the cosmic energy\n test lab, suspicious of everything, trying to tell the old hands what\n to do. But I learned that they are pretty smart boys; they know what\n they are doing. You can rely on them absolutely.\"\n\n\n I leaned forward, elbows on knees. \"Let me tell\nyou\na thing,\n Nagurski. Your trust of these damn-fool spacemen is why you are no\n longer a captain. You can't trust anything out here in space, much less\n human nature. Even I know that much!\"\n\n\n He was pained. \"If you don't trust the men, they won't trust you, Gav.\"\n\n\n \"They don't have to trust me. All they have to do is\nobey\nme or, by\n Jupiter, get frozen stiff and thawed out just in time for court-marshal\n back home. Listen,\" I continued earnestly, \"these men aren't going to\n think of me—of\nus\n, the officers, as their leaders. As far as the\n crew is concerned, Ordinary Spaceman Quade is the best man on this\n ship.\"\n\n\n \"He\nis\na good man,\" Nagurski said. \"You mustn't be jealous of his\n status.\"\n\n\n The dog growled. He must have sensed what I almost did to Nagurski.\n\n\n \"Never mind that for now,\" I said wearily. \"What was your idea for\n getting our exploration parties through this transphasia?\"\n\n\n \"There's only one idea for that,\" said Quade, ducking his long head\n and stepping through the connecting hatch. \"With the Captain's\n permission....\"\n\n\n \"Go ahead, Quade, tell him,\" Nagurski invited.\n\n\n \"There's only one way to wade through transphasia with any\n reliability,\" Quade told me. \"You keep some kind of physical contact\n with the spaceship. Parties are strung out on guide line, like we were,\n but the cable has to be run back and made fast to the hull.\"\n\n\n \"How far can we run it back?\"\n\n\n Quade shrugged. \"Miles.\"\n\n\n \"How many?\"\n\n\n \"We have three miles of cable. As long as you can feel, taste, see,\n smell or hear that rope anchoring you to home, you aren't lost.\"\n\n\n \"Three miles isn't good enough. We don't have enough fuel to change\n sites that often. You can't use the drive in a gravitational field, you\n know.\"\n\n\n \"What else can we do, Captain?\" Nagurski asked puzzledly.\n\n\n \"You've said that the spaceship is our only protection from\n transphasia. Is that it?\"\n\n\n Quade gave a curt nod.\n\n\n \"Then,\" I told them, \"we will have to start tearing apart this ship.\"\nSergeant-Major Hoffman and his team were doing a good job of ripping\n out the side of the afterhold. Through the portal I could see the\n suited men expertly guiding the huge curved sections on their ray\n projectors.\n\n\n \"Cannibalizing is dangerous.\" Nagurski put his pipe in his teeth and\n shook his head disapprovingly.\n\n\n \"Spaceships have parts as interchangeable as Erector sets. We can\n take apart the tractors and put our ship back together again after we\n complete the survey.\"\n\n\n \"You can't assemble a jigsaw puzzle if some of the pieces are missing.\"\n\n\n \"You can't get a complete picture, but you can get a good idea of\n what it looks like. We can take off in a reasonable facsimile of a\n spaceship.\"\n\n\n \"Not,\" he persisted, \"if\ntoo\nmany parts are missing.\"\n\n\n \"Nagurski, if you are looking for a job safer than space exploration,\n why don't you go back to testing cosmic bomb shelters?\"\n\n\n Nagurski flushed. \"Look here, Captain, you are being too damned\n cautious. There is a way one handles the survey of a planet like this,\n and this isn't the way.\"\n\n\n \"It's my way. You heard what Quade said. You know it yourself. The men\n have to have something tangible to hang onto out there. One slender\n cable isn't enough of an edge on sensory anarchy. If the product of\n their own technological civilization can keep them sane, I say let 'em\n take a part of that environment with them.\"\n\n\n \"In departing from standard procedure that we have learned to trust,\n you are risking more than a few men—you risk the whole mission in\n gambling so much of the ship. A captain doesn't take chances like that!\"\n\n\n \"I never said I wouldn't take chances. But I'm not going to take\nstupid\nchances. I\nmight\nbe doing the wrong thing, but I can see you\nwould\nbe doing it wrong.\"\n\n\n \"You know nothing about space, Captain! You have to trust\nus\n.\"\n\n\n \"That's it exactly, First Officer Nagurski,\" I said sociably. \"If you\n lazy, lax, complacent slobs want to do something in a particular way, I\n know it\nhas\nto be wrong.\"\n\n\n I turned and found Wallace, the personnel man, standing in the hatchway.\n\n\n \"Pardon, Captain, but would you say we also lacked initiative?\"\n\n\n \"I would,\" I answered levelly.\n\n\n \"Then you'll be interested to hear that Spaceman Quade took a suit and\n a cartographer unit. He's out there somewhere, alone.\"\n\n\n \"The idiot!\" I yelped. \"Everyone needs a partner out there. Send out a\n team to follow his cable and drag him in here by it.\"\n\n\n \"He didn't hook on a cable, Captain,\" Wallace said. \"I suppose he\n intended to go beyond the three-mile limit as you demanded.\"\n\n\n \"Shut up, Wallace. You don't have to like me, but you can't twist what\n I said as long as I command this spacer.\"\n\n\n \"Cool off, Gav,\" Nagurski advised me. \"It's been done before. Anybody\n else would have been a fool to go out alone, but Quade is the most\n experienced man we have. He knows transphasia. Trust him.\"\n\n\n \"I trusted him too far by letting him run around loose. He needs a\n leash in more ways than one, and I'm going to put one on him.\"\nFor me, it was a nightmare. I lay down in my cabin and thought. I had\n to think things through very carefully. One mistake was too many for\n me. My worst fear had been that someday I would overlook one tiny flaw\n and ruin a gem. Now I might have ruined an exploration and destroyed a\n man, not a stone, because I had missed the flaw.\n\n\n No one but a reckless fool would have gone out alone on a strange\n planet with a terrifying phenomenon, but I'd had enough evidence to see\n that space exploration\nmade\na man a reckless fool by doing things on\n one planet he had once found safe and wise on some other world.\n\n\n The thought intruded itself:\nwhy\nhadn't I recognized this before I\n let Quade escape to almost certain death? Wasn't it because I wanted\n him dead, because I resented the crew's resentment of my authority, and\n recognized in him the leader and symbol of this resentment?\n\n\n I threw away that idea along with my half-used cigarette. It might very\n well be true, but how did that help now?\n\n\n I had to\nthink\n.\n\n\n I was going after him, that was certain. Not only for humane\n reasons—he was the most important member of the crew. With him around,\n there were only two opinions, his and mine. Without him, I'd have\n endless opinions to contend with.\n\n\n But it wouldn't do any good to go out no better equipped than he.\n There was no time to wait for tractors to be built if we wanted to\n reach him alive, and we certainly couldn't reach him five or ten\n miles out with our three miles of safety line. We would have to go in\n spacesuits.\n\n\n But how would that leave us any better off than Quade?\n\n\n Why was Quade vulnerable in his spacesuit, as I knew from experience he\n would be?\n\n\n How could we be less vulnerable, or preferably invulnerable?\n\"Captain, you got nothing to worry about,\" Quartermaster Farley said.\n He patted a space helmet paternally. \"You got yourself a self-contained\n environment. The suit's eye looks into yours at the arteries in the\n back of your eyeball so it can read your amber corpuscles and feed\n you your oxygen in the right amounts; you're a bottle-fed baby. If\n transphasia gets you seeing limburger, turn on the radar and you're\n air-conditioned as an igloo. Nothing short of a cosmic blast can dent\n that hide. You got it made.\"\n\n\n \"You are right,\" I said, \"only transphasia comes right through these\n air-fast joints.\"\n\n\n \"Something strange about the trance, Captain,\" Farley said darkly. \"Any\n spaceman can tell you that. Things we don't understand.\"\n\n\n \"I'm talking about something we do understand—\nsound\n. These suits\n perfectly soundproof?\"\n\n\n \"Well, you can pick up sound by conduction. Like putting two helmets\n together and talking without using radio. You can't insulate enough to\n block out all sound and still have a man-shaped suit. You have—\"\n\n\n \"I know. Then you have something like a tractor or a miniature\n spaceship. There isn't time for that. We will have to live with the\n sound.\"\n\n\n \"What do you think he's going to hear out there, Captain? We'd like to\n find one of those beautiful sirens on some planet, believe me, but—\"\n\n\n \"I believe you,\" I said quickly. \"Let's leave it at that. I don't know\n what he will hear; what's worrying me is\nhow\nhe'll hear it, in what\n sensory medium. I hope the sound doesn't blind him. His radar is his\n only chance.\"\n\n\n \"How do you figure on getting a better edge yourself, sir?\"\n\n\n \"I have the idea, but not the word for it. Tonal compensation, I\n suppose. If you can't shut out the noise, we'll have to drown it out.\"\n\n\n Farley nodded. \"Beat like a telephone time signal?\"\n\n\n \"That would do it.\"\n\n\n \"It would do something else. It would drive you nuts.\"\nI shrugged. \"It might be distracting.\"\n\n\n \"Captain, take my word for it,\" argued Farley. \"Constant sonic\n feedback inside a spacesuit will set you rocking against the grain.\"\n\n\n \"Devise some regular system of interruptions,\" I suggested.\n\n\n \"Then the pattern will drive you crazy. Maybe in a few months, with\n luck, I could plan some harmonic scale you could tolerate—\"\n\n\n \"We don't have a few months,\" I said. \"How about music? There's a\n harmonic scale for you, and we can endure it, some of it.\nFigaro\nand\nAsleep in the Cradle of the Deep\ncan compensate for high-pitched\n outside temperatures, and\nFlight of the Bumble Bee\nto block bass\n notes.\"\n\n\n Farley nodded. \"Might work. I can program the tapes from the library.\"\n\n\n \"Good. There's one more thing—how are our stores of medicinal liquor?\"\n\n\n Farley paled. \"Captain, are you implying that\nI\nshould be running\n short on alcohol? Where do you get off suggesting a thing like that?\"\n\n\n \"I'm getting off at the right stop, apparently,\" I sighed. \"Okay,\n Farley, no evasions. In plain figures, how much drinking alcohol do we\n have left?\"\n\n\n The quartermaster slumped a bit. \"Twenty-one liters unbroken. One more\n about half full.\"\n\n\n \"Half full? How did that ever happen? I mean you had some\nleft\n? We'll\n take this up later. I want you to run it through the synthesizer to get\n some light wine....\"\n\n\n \"Light wine?\" Farley looked in pain. \"Not whiskey, brandy, beer?\"\n\n\n \"Light wine. Then ration it out to some of the men.\"\n\n\n \"Ration it to the men!\"\n\n\n \"That's an accurate interpretation of my orders.\"\n\n\n \"But, sir,\" Farley protested, \"you don't give alcohol to the crew in\n the middle of a mission. It's not done. What reason can you have?\"\n\n\n \"To sharpen their taste and olfactory senses. We can turn up or block\n out sound. We can use radar to extend our sight, but the Space Service\n hasn't yet developed anything to make spacemen taste or smell better.\"\n\n\n \"They are going to smell like a herd of winos,\" Farley said. \"I don't\n like to think how they would taste.\"\n\n\n \"It's an entirely practical idea. Tea-tasters used to drink\n almond-and-barley water to sharpen their senses. I've observed that\n wine helps you appreciate culinary art more. Considering the mixed-up\n sensory data under transphasia, wine may help us to see where we are\n going.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Farley said obediently. \"I'll give spacemen a few quarts of\n wine, telling them to use it carefully for scientific purposes only,\n and then they will be able to see where they are going. Yes, sir.\"\n\n\n I turned to leave, then paused briefly. \"You can come along, Farley.\n I'm sure you want to see that we don't waste any of the stuff.\"\n\"There they are!\" Nagurski called. \"Quade's footsteps again, just\n beyond that rocky ridge.\"\n\n\n The landscape was rich chocolate ice cream smothered with chocolate\n syrup, caramel, peanuts and maple syrup, eaten while you smoked an old,\n mellow Havana. The footsteps were faint traces of whipped cream across\n the dark, rich taste of the planet.\n\n\n I splashed some wine from my drinking tube against the roof of my mouth\n to sharpen my taste. It brought out the footsteps sharper. It also made\n the landscape more of a teen-ager's caloric nightmare.\n\n\n The four of us pulled ourselves closer together by reeling in more\n of our safety line. Farley and Hoffman, Nagurski and myself, we were\n cabled together. It gave us a larger hunk of reality to hold onto. Even\n so, things wavered for me during a wisp of time.\n\n\n We stumbled over the ridge, feeling out the territory. It was a sticky\n job crawling over a melting, chunk-style Hershey bar. I was thankful\n for the invigorating Sousa march blasting inside my helmet. Before the\n tape had cut in, kicked on by the decibel gauge, I had heard or felt\n something dark and ominous in the outside air.\n\n\n \"Yes, this is definitely the trail of Quail,\" Nagurski said soberly.\n \"This is serious business. I must ask whoever has been giggling on\n this channel to shut up. Pardon me, Captain.\nYou\nweren't giggling,\n sir?\"\n\n\n \"I have never giggled in my life, Nagurski.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. That's what we all thought.\"\n\n\n A moment later, Nagurski added, \"Anyway, I just noticed it was my\n shelf—my, that is, self.\"\n\n\n The basso profundo performing\nFigaro\non my headset climbed to a\n girlish shriek. A sliver of ice. This was the call Quade and I had\n first heard as we were about to troop over a cliff. I dug in my heels.\n\n\n \"Take a good look around, boys,\" I said. \"What do you see?\"\n\n\n \"Quail,\" Nagurski replied. \"That's what I see.\"\n\n\n \"You,\" I said carefully, \"have been in space a\nlong\ntime. Look again.\"\n\n\n \"I see our old buddy, Quail.\"\n\n\n I took another slosh of burgundy and peered up ahead. It\nwas\nQuade. A\n man in a spacesuit, faceplate in the dust, two hundred yards ahead.\nGrudgingly I stepped forward, out of the shadow of the ridge.\n A hysterically screaming wind rocked me on my toes. We pushed\n on sluggishly to Quade's side, moving to the tempo of\nPomp and\n Circumstance\n.\n\n\n Farley lugged Quade over on his back and read his gauges.\n\n\n The Quartermaster rose with grim deliberation, and hiccuped. \"Better\n get him back to the spaceship fast. I've seen this kind of thing\n before with transphasia. His body cooled down because of the screaming\n wind—psychosomatic reaction—and his heating circuits compensated for\n the cool flesh. The poor devil's got frostbite and heat prostration.\"\nThe four of us managed to haul Quade back by using the powered joints\n in our suits. Hoffman suggested that he had once seen an injured\n man walked back inside his suit like a robot, but it was a delicate\n adjustment, controlling power circuits from outside a suit. It was too\n much for us—we were too tired, too numb, too drunk.\n\n\n At first sight of the spacer in the distance, transphasia left me with\n only a chocolate-tasting pink after-image on my retina. It was now\n showing bare skeleton from cannibalization for tractor parts, but it\n looked good to me, like home.\n\n\n The wailing call sounded through the amber twilight.\n\n\n I realized that I was actually\nhearing\nit for the first time.\n\n\n The alien stood between us and the ship. It was a great pot-bellied\n lizard as tall as a man. Its sound came from a flat, vibrating beaver\n tail. Others of its kind were coming into view behind it.\n\n\n \"Stand your ground,\" I warned the others thickly. \"They may be\n dangerous.\"\n\n\n Quade sat up on our crisscross litter of arms. \"Aliens can't be\n hostile. Ethnic impossibility. I'll show you.\"\n\n\n Quade was delirious and we were drunk. He got away from us and jogged\n toward the herd.\n\n\n \"Let's give him a hand!\" Farley shouted. \"We'll take us a specimen!\"\n\n\n I couldn't stop them. Being in Alpine rope with them, I went along. At\n the time, it even seemed vaguely like a good idea.\n\n\n As we lumbered toward them, the aliens fell back in a solid line except\n for the first curious-looking one. Quade got there ahead of us and made\n a grab. The creature rose into the air with a screaming vibration of\n his tail and landed on top of him, flattening him instantly.\n\n\n \"Sssh, men,\" Nagurski said. \"Leave it to me. I'll surround him.\"\n\n\n The men followed the First Officer's example, and the rope tying them\n to him. I went along cheerfully myself, until an enormous rump struck\n me violently in the face. My leaded boots were driven down into fertile\n soil, and my helmet was ringing like a bell. I got a jerky picture of\n the beast jumping up and down on top of the others joyously. Only the\n stiff space armor was holding up our slack frames.\n\n\n \"Let's let him escape,\" Hoffman suggested on the audio circuit.\n\n\n \"I'd like to,\" Nagurski admitted, \"but the other beasts won't let us\n get past their circle.\"\n\n\n It was true. The aliens formed a ring around us, and each time a\n bouncing boy hit the line, he only bounced back on top of us.\n\n\n \"Flat!\" I yelled. \"Our seams can't take much more of this beating.\"\n\n\n I followed my own advice and landed in the dirt beside Quade.\n\n\n The bouncer came to rest and regarded us silently, head on an\n eighty-degree angle.\n\n\n I was stone sober.\n\n\n The others were lying around me quietly, passed out, knocked out, or\n taking cover.\n\n\n The ring of aliens drew in about us, closer, tighter, as the bouncer\n sat on his haunches and waited for us to move.\n\"Feeling better?\" I asked Quade in the infirmary.\n\n\n He punched up his pillow and settled back. \"I guess so. But when I\n think of all the ways I nearly got myself killed out there.... How far\n have you got in the tractors?\"\n\n\n \"I'm having the tractors torn down and the parts put back into the\n spaceship where they belong. We\nshouldn't\nrisk losing them and\n getting stuck here.\"\n\n\n \"Are you settling for a primary exploration?\"\n\n\n \"No. I think I had the right idea on your rescue party. You have to\n meet and fight a planet on its own terms. Fighting confused sounds and\n tastes with music and wine was crude, but it was on the right track.\n Out there, we understood language because we were familiar with alien\n languages changed to other sense mediums by cybernetic translators.\n Using the translator, we can learn to recognize all confused data as\n easily. I'm starting indoctrination courses.\"\n\n\n \"I doubt that that is necessary, sir,\" Quade said. \"Experienced\n spacemen are experienced with transphasia. You don't have to worry. In\n the future, I'll be able to resist sensations that tell me I'm freezing\n to death—if my gauges tell me it's a lie.\"\n\n\n I examined his bandisprayed hide. \"I think my way of gaining experience\n is less painful and more efficient.\"\n\n\n Quade squirmed. \"Yes, sir. One thing, sir—I don't understand how you\n got me away from those aliens.\"\n\n\n \"The aliens were trying to help. They knew something was wrong and they\n were prodding and probing. When the first tractor pulled up and the men\n got out, they seemed to realize our own people could help us easier\n than they could.\"\n\n\n \"I am not quite convinced that those babies just meant to help us all\n the time.\"\n\n\n \"But they did! First, that call of theirs—it wasn't to lead us into\n danger, but to warn us of the cliff, the freezing wind. They saw we\n were trying to find out things about their world, so they even offered\n us one of their own kind to study. Unfortunately, he was too much for\n us. They didn't give us their top man, of course, only the village\n idiot. It's just as well. We aren't allowed to dissect creatures that\n far up the intelligence scale.\"\n\n\n \"But why should they want to help us?\" Quade demanded suspiciously.\n\n\n \"I think it's like Nagurski's dog. The dog came to him when it wanted\n somebody to own it, protect it, feed it, love it. These aliens\nwant\nEarthmen to colonize the planet. We came here, you see, same as the dog\n came to Nagurski.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I've learned one thing from all of this,\" Quade said. \"I've been\n a blind, arrogant, cocksure fool, following courses that were good on\nsome\nworlds,\nmost\nworlds, but not good on\nall\nworlds. I'm never\n going to be that foolhardy again.\"\n\n\n \"But you're losing\nconfidence\n, Quade! You aren't sure of yourself any\n more. Isn't confidence a spaceman's most valuable asset?\"\n\n\n \"The hell it is,\" Quade said grimly. \"It's his deadliest liability.\"\n\n\n \"In that case, I must inform you that I am demoting you to Acting\n Executive Officer.\"\n\n\n \"Huh?\" Quade gawked. \"But dammit, Captain, you can't do that to me!\n I'll lose hazard pay and be that much further from retirement!\"\n\n\n \"That's tough,\" I sympathized, \"but in every service a chap gets broken\n in rank now and then.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe it's worth it,\" Quade said heavily. \"Now maybe I've learned how\n to stay alive out here. I just hope I don't forget.\"\n\n\n I thought about that. I was nearly through with my first mission and\n I could speak with experience, even if it was the least amount of\n experience aboard.\n\n\n \"Quade,\" I said, \"space isn't as dangerous as all that.\" I clapped him\n on the shoulder fraternally. \"You worry too much!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "How does Gavin feel about his status with the crew?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAXFQ1YV_1", "options": ["He believes there is a special bond between service people", "He believes he has their trust and attention", "He doesn’t care if they respect him or not", "When he was promoted above his comrades, they began to resent him"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does transphasia impact Gavin and Quade?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAXFQ1YV_2", "options": ["Both experience modified sensory experiences", "Quade is heavily impacted, and Gavin thinks he is faking it", "Gavin is heavily impacted, while Quade seems to have become tolerant to it through many exposures", "Both experience their bodies changing phases of liquid to solid"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship between Gavin and the First Officer like?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAXFQ1YV_3", "options": ["Gavin thinks the First Officer wants to take his job", "The First Officer only interacts with Gavin using Quade as an intermediary", "Gavin trusts him so much as to go together on space expeditions, but not further", "Gavin learns important lessons in leadership from him"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the lesson of the story?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAXFQ1YV_4", "options": ["Perception is all relative", "Sometimes inexperience can produce innovation", "A learner’s mind is very dangerous in space, best to have experienced people in charge", "Save yourself before helping others is the lesson they live by"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What kind of mission does the crew appear to be sent on?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAXFQ1YV_5", "options": ["Mapping planets, collecting precious stones", "Searching for water", "Testing colonization of distant planets by cannibalizing parts from spaceships", "Capturing aliens"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What were the impacts of Gavin’s interventions on the crew’s space suits?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAXFQ1YV_6", "options": ["They added more oxygen for longer range", "They made them impermeable to radiation", "They improved the sensory experience for the crew", "They made them stronger to withstand the bouncing of the creatures"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are the intentions of the creatures on the planet towards explorers?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAXFQ1YV_7", "options": ["Helpful", "Hostile", "Afraid", "Predatory"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Quade change through the story?", "question_unique_id": "51351_HAXFQ1YV_8", "options": ["His confidence grows as Captain", "His confidence is replaced by healthy skepticism", "He becomes pessimistic", "He becomes optimistic"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/5/51351//51351-h//51351-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51605", "set_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Jamieson", "year": 1958, "author": "Doede, William R.", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Mothers and sons -- Fiction; Short stories", "article": "JAMIESON\nBy BILL DOEDE\n\n\n Illustrated by GRAY\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine December 1960.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nA Konv cylinder was the key to space—but\n \nthere was one power it could not match!\nThey lived in a small house beside the little Wolf river in Wisconsin.\n Once it had been a summer cottage owned by a rich man from Chicago.\n The rich man died. His heirs sold it. Now it was well insulated and\n Mrs. Jamieson and her son were very comfortable, even in the coldest\n winter. During the summer they rented a few row boats to vacationing\n fishermen, and she had built a few overnight cabins beside the road.\n They were able to make ends meet.\n\n\n Her neighbors knew nothing of the money she had brought with her to\n Wisconsin. They didn't even know that she was not a native. She never\n spoke of it, except at first, when Earl was a boy of seven and they had\n just come there to live. Then she only said that she came from the\n East. She knew the names of eastern Wisconsin towns, and small facts\n about them; it lent an air of authenticity to her claim of being a\n native. Actually her previous residence was Bangkok, Siam, where the\n Agents had killed her husband.\n\n\n That was back in '07, on the eve of his departure for Alpha Centaurus;\n but she never spoke of this; and she was very careful not to move from\n place to place except by the conventional methods of travel.\n\n\n Also, she wore her hair long, almost to the shoulders. People said,\n \"There goes one of the old-fashioned ones. That hair-do was popular\n back in the sixties.\" They did not suspect that she did this only to\n cover the thin, pencil-line scar, evidence that a small cylinder lay\n under her skin behind the ear.\nFor Mrs. Jamieson was one of the Konvs.\n\n\n Her husband had been one of the small group who developed this tiny\n instrument. Not the inventor—\nhis\nname was Stinson, and the effects\n produced by it were known as the Stinson Effect. In appearance\n it resembled a small semi-conductor device. Analysis by the best\n scientific minds proved it to be a semi-conductor.\n\n\n Yet it held the power to move a body instantly from one point in space\n to any other point. Each unit was custom built, keyed to operate only\n by the thought pattern of the particular individual.\n\n\n Several times in the past seven years Mrs. Jamieson had seen other\n Konvs, and had been tempted to identify herself and say, \"Here I am.\n You are one of them; so am I. Come, and we'll talk. We'll talk about\n Stinson and Benjamin, who helped them all get away. And Doctor Straus.\n And my husband, E. Mason Jamieson, who never got away because those\n filthy, unspeakable Agents shot him in the back, there in that coffee\n shop in Bangkok, Siam.\"\nOnce, in the second year after her husband's death, an Agent came and\n stayed in one of her cabins.\n\n\n She learned that he was an Agent completely by accident. While cleaning\n the cabin one morning his badge fell out of a shirt pocket. She stood\n still, staring at the horror of it there on the floor, the shirt in\n her hands, all the loneliness returning in a black wave of hate and\n frustration.\n\n\n That night she soundlessly lifted the screen from the window over his\n bed and shot him with a .22 rifle.\n\n\n She threw the weapon into the river. It helped very little. He was one\n Agent, only one out of all the thousands of Agents all over Earth;\n while her husband had been one of twenty-eight persons. She decided\n then that her efforts would be too ineffective. The odds were wrong.\n She would wait until her son, Earl, was grown.\n\n\n Together they would seek revenge. He did not have the cylinder—not\n yet. But he would. The Konvs took care of their own.\n\n\n Her husband had been one of the first, and they would not forget. One\n day the boy would disappear for a few hours. When he returned the small\n patch of gauze would be behind his ear. She would shield him until the\n opening healed. Then no one would ever know, because now they could do\n it without leaving the tell-tale scar. Then they would seek revenge.\n\n\n Later they would go to Alpha Centaurus, where a life free from Agents\n could be lived.\n\n\n It happened to Earl one hot summer day when he was fourteen. Mrs.\n Jamieson was working in her kitchen; Earl supposedly was swimming with\n his friends in the river. Suddenly he appeared before her, completely\n nude. At sight of his mother his face paled and he began to shake\n violently, so that she was forced to slap him to prevent hysteria. She\n looked behind his ear.\n\n\n It was there.\n\n\n \"Mom!\" he cried. \"Mom!\"\n\n\n He went to the window and looked out toward the river, where his\n friends were still swimming in the river, with great noise and delight.\n Apparently they did not miss him. Mrs. Jamieson handed him a pair of\n trousers. \"Here, get yourself dressed. Then we'll talk.\"\nHe started for his room, but she stopped him. \"No, do it right here.\n You may as well get used to it now.\"\n\n\n \"Get used to what?\"\n\n\n \"To people seeing you nude.\"\n\n\n \"What?\"\n\n\n \"Never mind. What happened just now?\"\n\n\n \"I was swimming in the river, and a man came down to the river. His\n hair was all white, and his eyes looked like ... well, I never saw eyes\n like his before. He asked who was Earl Jamieson, and I said I was. Then\n he said, 'Come with me.' I went with him. I don't know why. It seemed\n the right thing. He took me to a car and there was another man in it,\n that looked like the first one only he was bigger. We went to a house,\n not far away and went inside. And that's all I can remember until I\n woke up. I was on a table, sort of. A high table. There was a light\n over it. It was all strange, and the two men stood there talking in\n some language I don't know.\"\n\n\n Earl ran his hand through his hair, shaking his head. \"I don't remember\n clearly, I guess. I was looking around the room and I remember thinking\n how scared I was, and how nice it would be to be here with you. And\n then I was here.\"\n\n\n Earl faced the window, looking out, then turned quickly back. \"What is\n it?\" he asked, desperately. \"What happened to me?\"\n\n\n \"Better put your trousers on,\" Mrs. Jamieson said. \"It's something very\n unusual and terrible to think of at first, but really wonderful.\"\n\n\n \"But what happened? What is this patch behind my ear?\"\n\n\n Suddenly his face paled and he stopped in the act of getting into his\n trousers. \"Guess I know now. They made me a Konv.\"\n\n\n \"Well, don't take on so. You'll get used to it.\"\n\n\n \"But they shouldn't have! They didn't even ask me!\"\n\n\n He started for the door, but she called him back. \"No, don't run away\n from it now. This is the time to face it. There are two sides to every\n story, you know. You hear only one side in school—their side. There is\n also\nour\nside.\"\n\n\n He turned back, a dawning comprehension showing in his eyes. \"That's\n right, you're one, too. That is why you killed that Agent in the third\n cabin.\"\n\n\n It was her turn to be surprised. \"You knew about that?\"\n\n\n \"I saw you. I wasn't sleeping. I was afraid to stay inside alone, so I\n followed you. I never told anyone.\"\n\n\n \"But you were only nine!\"\n\n\n \"They would have taken you away if I'd said anything.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson held out her hand. \"Come here, son. It's time I told you\n about us.\"\nSo he sat across the kitchen table from her, and she told the whole\n history, beginning with Stinson sitting in the laboratory in New\n Jersey, holding in his hand a small cylinder moulded from silicon\n with controlled impurities. He had made it, looking for a better\n micro-circuit structure. He was holding this cylinder ... and it was a\n cold day outside ... and he was dreaming of a sunny Florida beach—\n\n\n And suddenly he was there, on the beach. He could not believe it at\n first. He felt the sand and water, and felt of himself; there was no\n mistake.\n\n\n On the plane back to New Jersey he came to certain conclusions\n regarding the strange power of his device. He tried it again, secretly.\n Then he made more cylinders. He was the only man in the world who\n knew how to construct it, and he kept the secret, giving cylinders\n to selected people. He worked out the basic principle, calling it a\n kinetic ordinate of negative vortices, which was very undefinitive.\n\n\n It was a subject of wonder and much speculation, but no one took\n serious notice of them until one night a federal Agent arrested one man\n for indecency. It was a valid charge. One disadvantage of this method\n of travel was that, while a body could travel instantaneously to any\n chosen spot, it arrived without clothes.\n\n\n The arrested man disappeared from his jail cell, and the next morning\n the Agent was found strangled to death in his bed. This set off a\n campaign against Konvs. One base act led to another, until the original\n reason for noticing them at all was lost. Normal men no longer thought\n of them as human.\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson told how Stinson, knowing he had made too many cylinders\n and given them unwisely, left Earth for Alpha Centaurus.\n\n\n He went alone, not knowing if he could go so far, or what he would find\n when he arrived. But he did arrive, and it was what he had sought.\n\n\n He returned for the others. They gathered one night in a dirty,\n broken-down farmhouse in Missouri—and disappeared in a body, leaving\n the Agents standing helplessly on Earth, shaking their fists at the sky.\n\n\n \"You have asked many times,\" Mrs. Jamieson said, \"how your father\n died. Now I will tell you the truth. Your father was one of the great\n ones, along with Stinson and Benjamin and Dr. Straus. He helped plan\n the escape; but the Agents found him in Bangkok fifteen minutes before\n the group left. They shot him in the back, and the others had to go on\n without him. Now do you know why I killed the Agent in the third cabin?\n I had to. Your father was a great man, and I loved him.\"\n\n\n \"I don't blame you, mother,\" Earl said simply. \"But we are freaks.\n Everybody says, 'Konv' as if it is something dirty. They write it on\n the walls in rest rooms.\"\n\n\n \"Of course they do—because they don't understand! They are afraid of\n us. Wouldn't you be afraid of someone who could do the things we do, if\n you\ncouldn't\ndo them?\"\n\n\n Just like that, it was over.\n\n\n That is, the first shock was over. Mrs. Jamieson watched Earl leave the\n house, walking slowly along the river, a boy with a man's problems.\n His friends called to him from the river, but he chose not to hear.\n He wanted to be alone. He needed to think, to feel the newness of the\n thing.\n\n\n Perhaps he would cross the river and enter the deep forest there. When\n the initial shock wore off he might experiment with his new power. He\n would not travel far, in these first attempts. Probably he would stay\n within walking distance of his clothes, because he still lacked the\n tricks others had learned.\n\n\n It was a hot, mucky afternoon with storm clouds pushing out of the\n west. Mrs. Jamieson put on her swimming suit and wandered down to the\n river to cool herself.\nFor the remainder of that summer they worked together. They practiced\n at night mostly, taking longer and longer jumps, until Earl's\n confidence allowed him to reach any part of the Earth he chose. She\n knew the habits of Agents. She knew how to avoid them.\n\n\n They would select a spot sufficiently remote to insure detection, she\n would devise some prank to irritate the Agents; then they would quickly\n return to Wisconsin. The Agents would rush to the calculated spot, but\n would find only the bare footprints of a woman and a boy. They would\n swear and drive back to their offices to dig through files, searching\n for some clue to their identity.\n\n\n It was inevitable that they should identify Mrs. Jamieson as one of\n the offenders, since they had discovered, even before Stinson took his\n group to Centaurus, that individuals had thought patterns peculiar to\n themselves. These could be identified, if caught on their detectors,\n and even recorded for the files. But the files proved confusing, for\n they said that Mrs. Jamieson had gone to Centaurus with the others.\n\n\n Had she returned to Earth? The question did not trouble them long. They\n had more serious problems. Stinson had selected only the best of the\n Konvs when he left Earth, leaving all those with criminal tendencies\n behind. They could have followed if they chose—what could stop them?\n But it was more lucrative to stay. On Earth they could rob, loot, even\n murder—without fear of the law.\n\n\n Earl changed.\n\n\n Even before the summer was over, he matured. The childish antics of his\n friends began to bore him. \"Be careful, Earl,\" his mother would say.\n \"Remember who you are. Play with them sometimes, even if you don't like\n it. You have a long way to go before you will be ready.\"\n\n\n During the long winter evenings, after they had watched their favorite\n video programs, they would sit by the fireplace. \"Tell me about the\n great ones,\" he would say, and she would repeat all the things she\n remembered about Stinson and Benjamin and Straus. She never tired of\n discussing them. She would tell about Benjamin's wife, Lisa, and try to\n describe the horror in Lisa's young mind when the news went out that\n E. Mason Jamieson had been killed. She wanted him to learn as much as\n possible about his father's death, knowing that soon the Agents would\n be after Earl. They were so clever, so persistent. She wanted him to be\n ready, not only in ways of avoiding their traps ... but ready with a\n heart full of hate.\n\n\n Sometimes when she talked about her husband, Mrs. Jamieson wanted to\n stand up and scream at her son, \"Hate, hate! Hate! You must learn to\n hate!\" But she clenched her hands over her knitting, knowing that he\n would learn it faster if she avoided the word.\nThe winter passed, and the next summer, and two more summers.\n\n\n Earl was ready for college. They had successfully kept their secret.\n They had been vigilant in every detail. Earl referred to the \"damn\n Agents\" now with a curl of his lip. They had been successful in\n contacting other Konvs, and sometimes visited them at a remote\n rendezvous.\n\n\n \"When you have finished college,\" Mrs. Jamieson told her son, \"we will\n go to Centaurus.\"\n\n\n \"Why not now?\"\n\n\n \"Because when you get there they will need men who can contribute to\n the development of the planet. Stinson is a physicist, Benjamin a\n metallurgist, Straus a doctor. But Straus is an old man by this time. A\n young doctor will be needed. Study hard, Earl. Learn all you can. Even\n the great ones get sick.\"\n\n\n She did not mention her secret hope, that before they left Earth\n he would have fully avenged his father's death. He was clever and\n intelligent.\n\n\n He could kill many Agents.\n\n\n So she exhumed the money she had hidden more than ten years before.\n The house beside the Little Wolf river was sold. They found a modest\n bungalow within walking distance of the University's medical school.\n Mrs. Jamieson furnished it carefully but, oddly, rather lavishly.\n\n\n This was her husband's money she was spending now. It needed to last\n only a few years. Then they would leave Earth forever.\n\n\n A room was built on the east side of the bungalow, with its own private\n entrance. This was Earl's room. Ostensibly the private entrance was for\n convenience due to the irregular hours of college students.\n\n\n It was also convenient for coming home late at night after Agent\n hunting.\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson was becoming obvious.\n\n\n Excitement brought color to her cheeks when she thought of Earl facing\n one of them—a lean, cunning jaguar facing a fat, lazy bear. It was her\n notion that federal Agents were evil creatures, tools of a decadent,\n bloodthirsty society, living off the fat of the land.\n\n\n She painted the room herself, in soft, pastel colors. When it was\n finished she showed Earl regally into the room, making a big joke of it.\n\n\n \"Here you can study and relax, and have those bull sessions students\n are always having,\" she said.\n\n\n \"There will be no friends,\" he answered, \"not here. No Konvs will be at\n the university.\"\n\n\n \"Why not? Stinson selected only educated, intelligent people. When\n one dies the cylinder is taken and adjusted to a new thought\n pattern—usually a person from the same family. I would say it is very\n likely that Konvs will be found here.\"\nHe shook his head. \"No. They knew we were coming, and no one said a\n word about others being here. I'm afraid we are alone.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I think not,\" she said firmly. \"Anyway, the room will be\n comfortable.\"\n\n\n He shook his head again. \"Why can't I be in the house with you? There\n are two bedrooms.\"\n\n\n She said quickly, \"You can if you wish. I just thought you'd like being\n alone, at your age. Most boys do.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not like most boys, mother. The Konvs saw to that. Sometimes I'm\n sorry. Back in high school I used to wish I was like the others. Do you\n remember Lorane Peters?\" His mother nodded. \"Well, when we were seniors\n last year she liked me quite a lot. She didn't say so, but I knew it.\n She would sit across the aisle from me, and sometimes when I saw how\n her hair fell over her face when she read, I wanted to lean over and\n whisper to her, 'Hey, Lorrie—' just as if I was human—'can I take you\n to the basketball game?'\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson turned to leave the room, but he stopped her. \"You\n understand what I'm saying, don't you?\"\n\n\n \"No, I don't!\" she said sharply. \"You're old enough to face realities.\n You are a Konv. You always will be a Konv.\nHave you forgotten your own\n father?\n\"\n\n\n She turned her back and slammed the door. Earl stood very still for\n a long time in the room that was to have been happy for him. She was\n crying just beyond the wall.\n\n\n Earl did not use the room that first year. He slept in the second\n bedroom. He did not mention his frustrated desires to be normal, not\n after the first attempt, but he persisted in his efforts to be so. Use\n of the cylinder was out of the question for them now, anyway.\n\n\n In the spring Mrs. Jamieson caught a virus cold which resulted in a\n long convalescence. Earl moved into the new bedroom. At first she\n thought he moved in an effort to please her because of the illness, but\n she soon grew aware of her mistake.\n\n\n One day he disappeared.\nMrs. Jamieson was alarmed. Had the Agents found him? She watched the\n papers daily for some word of Konvs being killed.\n\n\n The second day after his disappearance she found a small item. A Konv\n had raided the Agent's office in Stockholm, killing three, and getting\n killed himself. Mrs. Jamieson dropped the paper immediately and went\n to Stockholm. She did not consider the risk. In Stockholm she found\n clothes and made discreet inquiries. The slain man had been a Finnish\n Konv, one of those left behind by Stinson as an undesirable. His wife\n had been killed by the Agents the week before. He had gone completely\n insane and made the raid singlehanded. Mrs. Jamieson read the account\n of crimes committed by the man and his wife, and determined to prevent\n Earl from making the mistake of taking on more than he could handle.\n\n\n When she arrived at her own home, Earl was in his room.\n\n\n \"Where have you been?\" she asked petulantly.\n\n\n \"Oh, here and there.\"\n\n\n \"I thought you were involved in that fight in Stockholm.\"\n\n\n He shook his head.\n\n\n She stood in the doorway and watched him leaning over his desk,\n attempting to write something on a sheet of paper. She was proud of his\n profile, tow-headed as a boy, handsome in a masculine way. He cracked\n his knuckles nervously.\n\n\n \"What did you do?\" she asked.\n\n\n Suddenly he flung the pencil down, jumped from his chair and paced the\n floor. \"I talked to an Agent last night,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Where?\"\n\n\n \"Bangkok.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson had to sit down. Finally she was able to ask, \"How did it\n happen?\"\n\n\n \"I broke into the office there to get at the records. He caught me.\"\n\n\n \"What were you looking for?\"\n\n\n \"I wanted to learn the names of the men who killed Father.\" He said the\n word strangely. He was unaccustomed to it.\n\n\n \"Did you find them?\"\n\n\n He pointed to the paper on his desk. Mrs. Jamieson, trembling, picked\n it up and read the names. Seeing them there, written like any other\n names would be written, made her furious. How could they? How could the\n names of murderers look like ordinary names? When she thought them in\n her mind, they even sounded like ordinary names—and they shouldn't!\n She had always thought that those names, if she ever saw them, would\n be filthy, unholy scratches on paper, evil sounds, like the rustle of\n bedclothes to a jealous lover listening at a keyhole. \"Tom Palieu\"\n didn't sound evil; neither did \"Al Jonson.\" She was shaken by this more\n than she would permit Earl to see.\n\"Why did you want the names?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" he said. \"Curiosity, maybe, or a subconscious desire\n for revenge. I just wanted to see them.\"\n\n\n \"Tell me what happened! If an Agent saw you ... well, either he killed\n you or you killed him. But you're here alive.\"\n\n\n \"I didn't kill him. That's what seems so strange. And he didn't try to\n kill me. We didn't even fight. He didn't ask why I broke in without\n breaking the lock or even a window. He seemed to know. He did ask what\n I was doing there, and who I was. I told him, and ... he helped me get\n the names. He asked where I lived. 'None of your damn business,' I told\n him. Then he said he didn't blame me for not telling, that Konvs must\n fear Agents, and hate them. Then he said, 'Do you know why we kill\n Konvs? We kill them because there is no prison cell in the world that\n will hold a Konv. When they break the law, we have no choice. It is a\n terrible thing, but must be done. We don't want your secret; we only\n want law and order. There is room enough in the world for both of us.'\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson was furious. \"And you believed him?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know. I just know what he said—and that he let me go without\n trying to shoot me.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson stopped on her way out of the room and laid a hand on his\n arm. \"Your father would have been proud of you,\" she said. \"Soon you\n will learn the truth about the Agents.\"\n\n\n Beyond the closed door, out of sight of her son, Mrs. Jamieson gave\n rein to the excitement that ran through her. He had wanted the names!\n He didn't know why—not yet—but he would. \"He'll do it yet!\" she\n whispered to the flowered wallpaper. She didn't care that no one heard\n her.\n\n\n She didn't know where the men were now, those who had killed her\n husband. They could be anywhere. Agents moved from post to post; in ten\n years they might be scattered all over Earth. In the killing of Konvs,\n some cylinders might even be taken by Agents—and used by them, for\n the power and freedom the cylinders gave must be coveted even by them.\n And they were in the best position to gain them. She was consumed by\n fear that one or more of the men on Earl's list might have acquired a\n cylinder and were now Konvs themselves.\nTwo weeks later she read a news item saying that Tom Palieu had been\n killed by a Konv. The assassin's identity was unknown, but agents were\n working on the case.\n\n\n She knew. She had found a gun in Earl's desk.\n\n\n She took the paper into Earl's room. \"Did you do this?\"\n\n\n He turned away from her. \"It doesn't matter whether I did or not. They\n will suspect me. His name was on the list.\"\n\n\n \"They will,\" she agreed. \"It doesn't matter who the Konv is, now that\n an Agent has been killed. The one in Bangkok will tell them about you\n and the list of names, and it's all they need.\"\n\n\n \"Well, what else can he do?\" Earl asked. \"After all, he is an Agent.\n If one of them is killed, he will have to tell what he knows.\"\n\n\n \"You're defending him? Why?\" she cried. \"Tell me why!\"\n\n\n He removed her hand from his arm. Her nails were digging into his\n flesh. \"I don't know why. Mother, I'm sorry, but Agents are just people\n to me. I can't hate them the way you do.\"\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson's face colored, then drained white.\n\n\n Suddenly, with a wide, furious sweep of her hand, she slapped his face.\n So much strength and rage was in her arm that the blow almost sent him\n spinning. They faced each other, she breathing hard from the exertion,\n Earl stunned immobile—not by the blow, but from the knowledge that she\n could hate so suddenly, viciously.\n\n\n She controlled herself. \"We must find a way to leave here,\" she said,\n calmly.\n\n\n \"They won't find us.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes they will,\" she said. \"Don't underestimate them. Agents are\n picked from the most intelligent people on Earth. It will be a small\n job for them. Don't forget they know who you are. Even if you hadn't\n been so stupid as to tell them, they'd know. They knew my pattern from\n the time your father was alive. They got yours when we were together\n years ago, teasing them. They linked your pattern with mine. They know\n that your father and I had a son. Your birth was recorded. The only\n difficult aspect of their job now is to find where you live, and it\n won't be impossible. They will drive their cars through every city on\n Earth with those new detectors, until they pick up your pattern or\n mine. I'm afraid it's time to leave Earth.\"\nEarl sat down suddenly, \"It's just as well. I thought maybe some day I\n might hate them too, or learn to like them. But I can do neither, so I\n am halfway between, and no man can live this way.\"\n\n\n She did not answer him. Finally he said, \"It doesn't make sense to you,\n does it?\"\n\n\n \"No, it doesn't. This is not the time for such discussions, anyway. The\n Agents have their machines working at top speed, while we sit here and\n talk.\"\n\n\n Suddenly they were not alone.\n\n\n No sound was generated by the man's coming. One instant they were\n talking alone, the next he was here. Earl saw him first. He was a\n middle-aged man whose hair was completely white. He stood near the\n desk, easily, as if standing there were the most natural way to relax.\n He was entirely nude ... but it seemed natural and right.\n\n\n Then Mrs. Jamieson saw him.\n\n\n \"Benjamin!\" she cried. \"I knew someone would come.\"\n\n\n He smiled. \"This is your son?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" she said. \"We are ready.\"\n\n\n \"I remember when you were born,\" he said, and smiled in reminiscence.\n \"Your father was afraid you would be twins.\"\n\n\n Earl said, \"Why was my father killed?\"\n\n\n \"By mistake. Back in those days, like now, there were good Konvs and\n bad. One of those not selected by Stinson to join us was enraged, half\n crazy with envy. He killed two women there in Bangkok. The Agents\n thought Jamieson—I mean, your father—did it. Jamieson was the\n greatest man among us. It was he who first conceived the theory that\n there was a basic, underlying law in the operation of the cylinders.\n Even now, no one knows how the idea of love ties in with the Stinson\n Effect; but we do know that hate and greed as motivating forces can\n greatly minimize the cylinders' power. That is why the undesirables\n with cylinders have never reached Centaurus.\"\n\n\n Heavy steps sounded on the porch outside.\n\n\n \"We'd better hurry,\" Mrs. Jamieson said.\n\n\n Benjamin held out his hands. They took them, to increase the power of\n the cylinders. As the Agents pounded on the door, Mrs. Jamieson flicked\n one thought of hatred at them, but of course they did not hear her.\n Benjamin's hands gripped tightly.\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson slowly opened her eyes....\n\n\n She no longer felt the hands.\nShe was still in the room!\nBenjamin and\n her son were gone. Her outstretched hands touched nothing.\n\n\n Her power was gone!\n\n\n The Agents stepped into the room over the broken door. She stared at\n them, then ran to Earl's desk, fumbling for the gun.\n\n\n The Agents' guns rattled.\n\n\n Love, Benjamin said, the greatest of these is love. Or did someone\n else say that? Someone, somewhere, perhaps in another time, in some\n misty, forgotten chip of time long gone, in another frame of reference\n perhaps....\n\n\n Mrs. Jamieson could not remember, before she died.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the most important lesson the mother passes on to the son?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_1", "options": ["Agents are adversaries", "Not all Agents are bad people", "To study hard and follow his heart", "To become an engineer so he is needed on Centaurus"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What happens to Earl in the end?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_2", "options": ["He goes on to live on Centaurus", "He never leaves Earth, hell bent on avenging his mother", "He removes his cylinder", "He is killed by the Agents"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many times is Earl rescued by others teleporting to his location?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_3", "options": ["None", "Three", "Two", "One"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between mother and son?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_4", "options": ["She is too lenient with his curfew, causing her much stress worrying about him", "She is a helicopter parent and the son rebels because of it", "She is appalled that her son wants to become an Agent", "She is an important teacher in his life, and he trusts her"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How are Earl’s mother and Benjamin related?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_5", "options": ["The two of them recently bonded over being Konv", "Benjamin is actually Earl’s father", "Benjamin was close with her", "Benjamin is a vigilante of the Konv saving his mother as a concerned citizen"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is Mrs. Jamieson protective of Earl?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_6", "options": ["She wants to preserve him to seek revenge for her", "She doesn’t want him to be seen without her since the Agents fear her", "She thinks he will misuse his powers for evil", "She worries the other children will report him"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why do the Agents kill the Konvs?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_7", "options": ["Once they depart to Centaurus they become unreachable to the law", "They need to keep the number of Konvs down or everyone on Earth might die", "The Konvs are inherently bad for humanity", "They can commit lawless acts without punishment"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are the mother’s hopes for her son?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_8", "options": ["Singularly revenge of his father’s death", "To not follow her into the way of the Konv", "Revenge, get healthcare training", "To solve time travel, become an engineer"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "In what ways are the Agents able to track Konv?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_9", "options": ["Infrared tracking machines", "They can monitor brain waves", "They are able to travel through recent teleportation tracks behind the Konv", "They have no special equipment other than pistols"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the mother tell her son he should be comfortable in the nude?", "question_unique_id": "51605_0HW4DYXI_10", "options": ["He would always arrive to his teleported location naked", "She wants to improve his body positivity", "Being naked was a last resort way to distract the Agents from recognizing their cylinders", "He had to be naked in order to initiate a teleport"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0022", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/6/0/51605//51605-h//51605-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "49897", "set_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Gravity Business", "year": 1963, "author": "Gunn, James E.", "topic": "Space flight -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; PS; Families -- Fiction", "article": "The Gravity Business\nBy JAMES E. GUNN\n\n\n Illustrated by ASHMAN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Galaxy January 1956.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright\n on this publication was renewed.]\nThis little alien beggar could dictate his own terms, but how could\n he—and how could anyone find out what those terms might be?\nThe flivver descended vertically toward the green planet circling the\n old, orange sun.\n\n\n It was a spaceship, but not the kind men had once dreamed about. The\n flivver was shaped like a crude bullet, blunt at one end of a fat\n cylinder and tapering abruptly to a point at the other. It had been\n slapped together out of sheet metal and insulation board, and it sold,\n fully equipped, for $15,730. It didn't behave like a spaceship, either.\n\n\n As it hurtled down, its speed increased with dramatic swiftness. Then,\n at the last instant before impact, it stopped. Just like that.\n\n\n A moment later, it thumped a last few inches into the ankle-deep grass\n and knee-high white flowers of the meadow. It was a shock of a jar that\n made the sheet-metal walls boom like thunder machines. The flivver\n rocked unsteadily on its flat stern before it decided to stay upright.\n\n\n Then all was quiet—outside.\n\n\n Inside the big, central cabin, Grampa waved his pircuit irately in the\n air. \"Now look what you made me do! Just when I had the blamed thing\n practically whipped, too!\"\nGrampa was a white-haired 90-year-old who could still go a fast round\n or two with a man (or woman) half his age, but he had a habit of\n lapsing into tantrum when he got annoyed.\n\n\n \"Now, Grampa,\" Fred soothed, but his face was concerned. Fred, once\n called Young Fred, was Grampa's only son. He was sixty and his hair had\n begun to gray at the temples. \"That landing was pretty rough, Junior.\"\nJunior was Fred's only son. Because he was thirty-five and capable\n of exercising adult judgment and because he had the youngest adult\n reflexes, he sat in the pilot's chair, the control stick between his\n knees, his thumb still over the Off-On button on top. \"I know it,\n Fred,\" he said, frowning. \"This world fooled me. It has a diameter\n less than that of Mercury and yet a gravitational pull as great as\n Earth.\"\n\n\n Grampa started to say something, but an 8-year-old boy looked up from\n the navigator's table beside the big computer and said, \"Well, gosh,\n Junior, that's why we picked this planet. We fed all the orbital data\n into Abacus, and Abacus said that orbital perturbations indicated that\n the second planet was unusually heavy for its size. Then Fred said,\n 'That looks like heavy metals', and you said, 'Maybe uranium—'\"\n\n\n \"That's enough, Four,\" Junior interrupted. \"Never mind what I said.\"\n\n\n Those were the Peppergrass men, four generations of them, looking\n remarkably alike, although some vital element seemed to have dwindled\n until Four looked pale and thin-faced and wizened.\n\n\n \"And, Four,\" Reba said automatically, \"don't call your father 'Junior.'\n It sounds disrespectful.\"\n\n\n Reba was Four's mother and Junior's wife. On her own, she was a\n red-haired beauty with the loveliest figure this side of Antares. That\n Junior had won her was, to Grampa, the most hopeful thing he had ever\n noticed about the boy.\n\n\n \"But everybody calls Junior 'Junior,'\" Four complained. \"Besides, Fred\n is Junior's father and Junior calls him 'Fred.'\"\n\n\n \"That's different,\" Reba said.\n\n\n Grampa was still waving his puzzle circuit indignantly. \"See!\" The\n pircuit was a flat box equipped with pushbuttons and thirteen slender\n openings in the top. One of the openings was lighted. \"That landing\n made me push the wrong button and the dad-blasted thing beat me again.\"\n\n\n \"Stop picking on Junior,\" Joyce said sharply. She was Junior's mother\n and Fred's wife, still slim and handsome as she approached sixty, but\n somehow ice water had replaced the warm blood in her veins. \"I'm sure\n he did the best he could.\"\n\n\n \"Anybody talks about gravitational pull,\" Grampa said, snorting,\n \"deserves anything anybody could say about him. There's no such thing,\n Junior. You ought to know by now that gravitation is the effect of the\n curving of space-time around matter. Einstein proved that two hundred\n years ago.\"\n\n\n \"Go back to your games, Grampa,\" Fred said impatiently. \"We've got work\n to do.\"\nGrampa knitted his bushy, white eyebrows and petulantly pushed the last\n button on his pircuit. The last light went out. \"You've got work to\n do, have you? Whose flivver do you think this is, anyhow?\"\n\n\n \"It belongs to all of us,\" Four said shrilly. \"You gave us all a sixth\n share.\"\n\n\n \"That's right, Four,\" Grampa muttered, \"so I did. But whose money\n bought it?\"\n\n\n \"You bought it, Grampa,\" Fred said.\n\n\n \"That's right! And who invented the gravity polarizer and the space\n flivver? Eh? Who made possible this gallivanting all over space?\"\n\n\n \"You, Grampa,\" Fred said.\n\n\n \"You bet! And who made one hundred million dollars out of it that the\n rest of you vultures are just hanging around to gobble up when I die?\"\n\n\n \"And who spent it all trying to invent perpetual motion machines and\n longevity pills,\" Joyce said bitterly, \"and fixed it so we'd have to\n go searching for uranium and habitable worlds all through this deadly\n galaxy? You, Grampa!\"\n\n\n \"Well, now,\" Grampa protested, \"I got a little put away yet. You'll be\n sorry when I'm dead and gone.\"\n\n\n \"You're never going to die, Grampa,\" Joyce said harshly. \"Just\n before we left, you bought a hundred-year contract with that\n Life-Begins-At-Ninety longevity company.\"\n\n\n \"Well, now,\" said Grampa, blinking, \"how'd you find out about that?\n Well, now!\" In confusion, he turned back to the pircuit and jabbed a\n button. Thirteen slim lights sprang on. \"I'll get you this time!\"\n\n\n Four stretched and stood up. He looked curiously into the corner by the\n computer where Grampa's chair stood. \"You brought that pircuit from\n Earth, didn't you? What's the game?\"\n\n\n Grampa looked up, obviously relieved to drop his act of intense\n concentration. \"I'll tell you, boy. You play against the pircuit,\n taking turns, and you can put out one, two or three lights. The player\n who makes the other one turn out the last light is the winner.\"\n\n\n \"That's simple,\" Four said without hesitation. \"The winning strategy is\n to—\"\n\n\n \"Don't be a kibitzer!\" Grampa snapped. \"When I need help, I'll ask\n for it. No dad-blamed machine is gonna outthink Grampa!\" He snorted\n indignantly.\nFour shrugged his narrow shoulders and wandered to the view screen.\n Within it was the green horizon, curving noticeably. Four angled the\n picture in toward the ship, sweeping through green, peaceful woodland\n and plain and blue lake until he stared down into the meadow at the\n flivver's stern.\n\n\n \"Look!\" he said suddenly. \"This planet not only has flora—it has\n fauna.\" He rushed to the air lock.\n\n\n \"Four!\" Reba called out warningly.\n\n\n \"It's all right, Reba,\" Four assured her. \"The air is within one per\n cent of Earth-normal and the bio-analyzer can find no micro-organisms\n viable within the Terran spectrum.\"\n\n\n \"What about macro-organisms—\" Reba began, but the boy was gone\n already. Reba's face was troubled. \"That boy!\" she said to Junior.\n \"Sometimes I think we've made a terrible mistake with him. He should\n have friends, play-mates. He's more like a little old man than a boy.\"\n\n\n But Junior nodded meaningfully at Fred and disappeared into the chart\n room. Fred followed casually. Then, as the door slid shut behind him,\n he asked impatiently. \"Well, what's all the mystery?\"\n\n\n \"No use bothering the others yet,\" Junior said, his face puzzled. \"You\n see, I didn't let the flivver drop those last few inches. The polarizer\n quit.\"\n\n\n \"Quit!\"\n\n\n \"That's not the worst. I tried to take it up again. The flivver—it\n won't budge!\"\nThe thing was a featureless blob, a two-foot sphere of raspberry\n gelatin, but it was alive. It rocked back and forth in front of Four.\n It opened a raspberry-color pseudo-mouth and said plaintively, \"Fweep?\n Fweep?\"\n\n\n Joyce drew her chair farther back toward the wall, revulsion on her\n face. \"Four! Get that nasty thing out of here!\"\n\"You mean Fweep?\" Four asked in astonishment.\n\n\n \"I mean that thing, whatever you call it.\" Joyce fluttered her hand\n impatiently. \"Get it out!\"\n\n\n Four's eyes widened farther. \"But Fweep's my friend.\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense!\" Joyce said sharply. \"Earthmen don't make friends with\n aliens. And that's nothing but a—a blob!\"\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" queried the raspberry lips. \"Fweep?\"\n\n\n \"If it's Four's friend,\" Reba said firmly, \"it can stay. If you don't\n like to be around it, Grammy, you can always go to your own room.\"\n\n\n Joyce stood up indignantly. \"Well! And don't call me 'Grammy!' It makes\n me sound as old as that old goat over there!\" She glared malignantly\n at Grampa. \"If you'd rather have that blob than me—well!\" She swept\n grandly out of the central cabin and into one of the private rooms that\n opened out from it.\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" asked the blob.\n\n\n \"Sure,\" Four said. \"Go ahead, fweep—I mean sweep.\"\n\n\n Swiftly the sphere rolled across the floor. Behind it was left a\n narrow path of sparkling clean tile.\n\n\n Grampa glanced warily at Joyce's door to make sure it was completely\n closed and then cocked a white eyebrow at Reba. \"Good for you, Reba!\"\n he said admiringly. \"For forty years now, I've wanted to do that. Never\n had the nerve.\"\n\n\n \"Why, thanks, Grampa,\" Reba said, surprised.\n\n\n \"I like you, gal. Never forget it.\"\n\n\n \"I like you, too, Grampa. If you'd been a few years younger, Junior\n would have had competition!\"\n\n\n \"You bet he would!\" Grampa leaned back and cackled. Then he leaned\n over confidentially toward Reba and whispered, \"Beats me why you ever\n married a jerk like Junior, anyhow.\"\n\n\n Reba looked thoughtfully toward the airlock door. \"Maybe I saw\n something in him nobody else saw, the man he might become. He's been\n submerged in this family too long; he's still a child to all of you\n and to himself, too.\" Reba smiled at Grampa brilliantly. \"And maybe I\n thought he might grow into a man like his grandfather.\"\nGrampa turned red and looked quickly toward Four. The boy was staring\n intently at Fweep. \"What you doing, Four?\"\n\n\n \"Trying to figure out what Fweep does with the sweepings,\" Four said\n absently. \"The outer inch or two of his body gets cloudy and then\n slowly clears. I think I'll try him with a bigger particle.\"\n\n\n \"That's the idea, Four. You'll be a Peppergrass yet. How about building\n me a pircuit?\"\n\n\n \"You get the other one figured out?\"\n\n\n \"It was easy,\" Grampa said breezily, \"once you understood the\n principle. The player who moved second could always win if he used the\n right strategy. Dividing the thirteen lights into three sections of\n four each—\"\n\n\n \"That's right,\" Four agreed. \"I can make you a new one by cannibalizing\n the other pircuit, but I'll need a few extra parts.\"\n\n\n Grampa pushed the wall beside his chair and a drawer slid out of it.\n\n\n Inside were row after row of nipple-topped, flat-sided, flexible\n free-fall bottles and a battered cigar box. \"Thought you'd say that,\"\n he said, picking out the box. \"Help yourself.\" With the other hand, he\n lifted out one of the bottles and took a long drag on it. \"Ahhh!\" he\n sighed, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and carefully put\n the bottle away.\n\n\n \"What is that stuff you drink, Grampa?\" Four asked.\n\n\n \"Tonic, boy. Keeps me young and frisky. Now about that pircuit—\"\n\n\n \"Did you ever work on Niccolò Tartaglia's puzzle about the three lovely\n brides, the three jealous husbands, the river and the two-passenger\n rowboat?\"\n\n\n \"Yep,\" Grampa said. \"Too easy.\"\n\n\n Four thought a moment. \"There's a modern variation with three\n missionaries and three cannibals. Same river, same rowboat and only one\n of the cannibals can row. If the cannibals outnumber the missionaries—\"\n\n\n \"Sounds good, boy,\" Grampa said eagerly. \"Whip it up for me.\"\n\n\n \"Okay, Grampa.\" Four looked at Fweep again. The translucent sphere had\n paused at Grampa's feet.\n\n\n Grampa reached down to pat it. For an instant, his hand disappeared\n into Fweep, and then the alien creature rolled away. This time its path\n seemed crooked.\n\n\n Its gelatinous form jiggled. \"Hic!\" it said.\nAs if in response, the flivver vibrated. Grampa looked querulously\n toward the airlock. \"Flivver shouldn't shake like that. Not with the\n polarizer turned on.\"\n\n\n The airlock door swung inward. Through the oval doorway walked Fred,\n followed closely by Junior. They were sweat-stained and weary,\n scintillation counters dangling heavily from their belts.\n\n\n \"Any luck?\" Reba asked brightly.\n\n\n \"Do we look it?\" Junior grumbled.\n\n\n \"Where's Joyce?\" asked Fred. \"Might as well get everybody in on this at\n once. Joyce!\"\n\n\n The door to his wife's room opened instantly. Behind it, Joyce was\n regal and slim. The pose was spoiled immediately by her avid question:\n \"Any uranium? Radium? Thorium?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" Fred said slowly, \"and no other heavy metals, either. There's a\n few low-grade iron deposits and that's it.\"\n\n\n \"Then what makes this planet so heavy?\" Reba asked.\n\n\n Junior shrugged helplessly and collapsed into a chair. \"Your guess is\n as good as anybody's.\"\n\n\n \"Then we've wasted another week on a worthless rock,\" Joyce complained.\n She turned savagely on Fred. \"This was going to make us all filthy\n rich. We were going to find radioactives and retire to Earth like\n billionaires. And all we've done is spent a year of our lives in this\n cramped old flivver—and we don't have many of them to spare!\" She\n glared venomously at Grampa.\n\n\n \"We've still got Fweepland,\" Four said solemnly.\n\n\n \"Fweepland?\" Reba repeated.\n\n\n \"This planet. It's not big, but it's fertile and it's harmless. As\n real estate, it's worth almost as much as if it were solid uranium.\"\n\n\n \"A good thing, too,\" Junior said glumly, \"because this looks like the\n end of our search. Short of a miracle, we'll spend the rest of our\n lives right here—involuntary colonists.\"\n\n\n Joyce spun on him. \"You're joking!\" she screeched.\n\n\n \"I wish I were,\" Junior said. \"But the polarizer won't work. Either\n it's broken or there's something about the gravity around here that\n just won't polarize.\"\n\n\n \"It's these '23 models,\" Grampa put in disgustedly. \"They never were\n any good.\"\nThe land of the Fweep turned slowly on its axis. The orange sun set and\n rose again and stared down once more at the meadow where the improbable\n spaceship rested on its improbable stern. The sixteen Earth hours that\n the rotation had taken had changed nothing inside the ship, either.\n\n\n Grampa looked up from his pircuit and said, \"If I were you, Junior, I\n would take a good look at the TV repairman when we get back to Earth.\nIf\nwe get back to Earth,\" he amended. \"You can't be Four's father.\n All over the Universe, gravity is the same, and if it's gravity, the\n polarizer will polarize it.\"\n\n\n \"That's just supposition,\" Junior said stubbornly. \"The fact is, it\n isn't because it doesn't. Q.E.D.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe the polarizer is broken,\" Fred suggested.\n\n\n Grampa snorted. \"Broken-shmoken. Nothing to break, Young Fred. Just a\n few coils of copper wire and they're all right. We checked. We know\n the power plant is working: the lights are on, the air and water\n recirculation systems are going, the food resynthesizer is okay. And,\n anyway, the polarizer could work from the storage battery if it had to.\"\n\n\n \"Then it goes deeper,\" Junior insisted. \"It goes right to the principle\n of polarization itself. For some reason, it doesn't work here. Why?\n Before we can discover the answer to that, we'll have to know more\n about polarization itself. How does it work, Grampa?\"\n\n\n Grampa gave him a sarcastic grin. \"Now you're curious, eh? Couldn't\n be bothered with Grampa's invention before. Oh, no! Too busy. Accept\n without question the blessings that the Good Lord provideth—\"\n\n\n \"Let's not get up on any pulpits,\" Fred growled. \"Come on, Grampa,\n what's the theory behind polarization?\"\n\n\n Grampa looked at the four faces staring at him hopefully and the\n jeering grin turned to a smile. \"Well,\" he said, \"at last. You know\n how light is polarized, eh?\" The smile faded. \"No, I guess you don't.\"\nHe cleared his throat professorially. \"Well, now, in ordinary light\n the vibrations are perpendicular to the ray in all directions. When\n light is polarized by passing through crystals or by reflection or\n refraction at non-metallic surfaces, the paths of the vibrations are\n still perpendicular to the ray, but they're in straight lines, circles\n or ellipses.\"\n\n\n The faces were still blank and unillumined.\n\n\n \"Gravity is similar to light,\" he pressed on. \"In the absence of\n matter, gravity is non-polarized. Matter polarizes gravity in a circle\n around itself. That's how we've always known it until the invention of\n spaceships and later the polarizer. The polarizer polarizes gravity\n into a straight line. That makes the ship take off and continue\n accelerating until the polarizer is shut off or its angle is shifted.\"\n\n\n The faces looked at him silently. Finally Joyce could endure it no\n longer. \"That's just nonsense! You all know it. Grampa's no genius.\n He's just a tinkerer. One day he happened to tinker out the polarizer.\n He doesn't know how it works any more than I do.\"\n\n\n \"Now wait a minute!\" Grampa protested. \"That's not fair. Maybe\n I didn't figure out the theory myself, but I read everything the\n scientists ever wrote about it. Wanted to know myself what made the\n blamed thing work. What I told you is what the scientists said, near\n as I remember. Now me—I'm like Edison. I do it and let everybody else\n worry over 'why.'\"\n\n\n \"The only thing you ever did was the polarizer,\" Joyce snapped.\n \"And then you spent everything you got from it on those fool\n perpetual-motion machines and those crazy longevity schemes when any\n moron would know they were impossible.\"\n\n\n Grampa squinted at her sagely. \"That's what they said about the gravity\n polarizer before I invented it.\"\n\n\n \"But you don't really know why it works,\" Junior persisted.\n\n\n \"Well, no,\" Grampa admitted. \"Actually I was just fiddling around with\n some coils when one of them took off. Went right through the ceiling,\n dragging a battery behind it. I guess it's still going. Ought to be out\n near the Horsehead Nebula by now. Luckily, I remembered how I'd wound\n it.\"\n\n\n \"Why won't the ship work then, if you know so much?\" Joyce demanded\n ironically.\n\n\n \"Well, now,\" Grampa said in bafflement, \"it rightly should, you know.\"\n\"We're stuck,\" Reba said softly. \"We might as well admit it. All we can\n do is set the transmitter to send out an automatic distress call—\"\n\n\n \"Which,\" Joyce interrupted, \"might get picked up in a few centuries.\"\n\n\n \"And make the best of what we've got,\" Reba went on, unheeding. \"If we\n look at it the right way, it's quite a lot. A beautiful, fertile world.\n Earth gravity. The flivver—even if the polarizer won't work, there's\n the resynthesizer; it will keep us in food and clothes for years. By\n then, we should have a good-sized community built up, because out here\n we won't have to stop with one child. We can have all the babies we\n want.\"\n\n\n \"You know the law: one child per couple,\" Joyce reminded her frigidly.\n \"You can condemn yourself to exile from civilization if you wish. Not\n me.\"\n\n\n Junior frowned at his wife. \"I believe you're actually glad it\n happened.\"\n\n\n \"I could think of worse things,\" Reba said.\n\n\n \"I like your spunk, Reb,\" Grampa muttered.\n\n\n \"Speaking of children,\" Junior said, \"where's Four?\"\n\n\n \"Here.\" Four came through the airlock and trudged across the room,\n carrying a curious contraption made of tripod legs supporting a\n small box from which dangled a plumb bob. Behind Four, like a round,\n raspberry shadow, rolled Fweep.\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" it queried hopefully.\n\n\n \"Not now,\" said Four.\n\n\n \"Where've you been?\" Reba asked anxiously. \"What've you been doing?\"\n\n\n \"I've been all over Fweepland,\" Four said wearily, \"trying to locate\n its center of gravity.\"\n\n\n \"Well?\" Fred prompted.\n\n\n \"It shifts.\"\n\n\n \"That's impossible,\" said Junior.\n\n\n \"Not for Fweep,\" Four replied.\n\n\n \"What do you mean by that?\" Joyce suspiciously asked.\n\n\n \"It shifted,\" Four explained patiently, \"because Fweep kept following\n me.\"\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" Junior repeated stupidly.\n\n\n \"Fweep?\" Fweep said eagerly.\n\n\n \"He's why the flivver won't work. What Grampa invented was a linear\n polarizer. Fweep is a circular polarizer. He's what makes this planet\n so heavy. He's why we can't leave.\"\nThe land of the Fweep rotated once on its axis, and Grampa lowered\n the nippled bottle from his lips. He sighed. \"I got it figured out,\n Four,\" he said, holding out the pircuit proudly. \"A missionary takes\n over a non-rowing type cannibal, leaves him there, and then the rowing\n cannibal takes over the other cannibal and leaves him there and—\"\n\n\n \"Not now, Grampa,\" Four said inattentively as he watched Fweep making\n the grand tour of the cabin.\n\n\n The raspberry sphere swept over a scattering of crumbs, engulfed them,\n absorbed them. Four looked at Joyce. Joyce was watching Fweep, too.\n\n\n \"Rat poison?\" Four asked.\n\n\n Joyce started guiltily. \"How did you know?\"\n\n\n \"There's no use trying to poison Fweep,\" Four said calmly. \"He's got no\n enzymes to act on, no nervous system to paralyze. He doesn't even use\n what he 'eats' on a molecular level at all.\"\n\n\n \"What level does he use?\" Junior wanted to know.\n\n\n \"Point the scintillation counter at him.\"\n\n\n Junior dug one of the counters out of the supply cabinet and aimed the\n pickup at Fweep. The counter began to hum. As Fweep approached, the hum\n rose in pitch. As it passed, the hum dropped.\n\n\n Junior looked at the counter's dial. \"He's radioactive, all right. Not\n much, but enough. But where does he get the radioactive material?\"\n\n\n \"He uses ordinary matter,\" Four said. \"He must have used up the few\n deposits of natural radioactives a long time ago.\"\n\n\n \"He uses ordinary substances on an atomic level?\" Junior said\n unbelievingly.\n\n\n Four nodded. \"And that 'skin' of his—whatever it is he uses for\n skin—is more efficient in stopping particle emissions than several\n feet of lead.\"\n\n\n Fred studied Fweep thoughtfully. \"Maybe we could feed him enough\n enriched uranium from the pile to put him over the critical mass.\"\n\n\n \"And blow him up? I don't think it's possible, but even if it were, it\n might be a trifle more than disastrous for us.\" Four giggled at the\n thought.\nJoyce glared at him furiously. \"Four! Act your age! We've got to do\n something with him. It's preposterous that we should be detained here\n at the whim of a mere blob!\"\n\n\n \"I don't figure it's a whim,\" Grampa said. \"Circular gravity is what\n he's got to have for one reason or another, so he just naturally bends\n the space-time continuum around him—conscious or subconscious, I don't\n know. But protoplasm is always more efficient than machines, so the\n flivver won't move.\"\n\n\n \"I don't care why that thing does it,\" Joyce said icily. \"I want it\n stopped, and the sooner the better. If it won't turn the gravity off,\n we'll just have to do away with it.\"\n\n\n \"How?\" asked Four. \"Fweep's skin is pretty close to impervious and\n you can't shoot him, stab him or poison him. He doesn't breathe, so\n you can't drown or strangle him. You can't imprison him; he 'eats'\n everything. And violence might be more dangerous to us than to him.\n Right now, Fweep is friendly, but suppose he got mad! He could lower\n his radioactive shield or he might increase the gravity by a few times.\n Either way, you'd feel rather uncomfortable, Grammy.\"\n\n\n \"Don't call me 'Grammy!' Well, what are we going to do, just sit around\n and wait for that thing to die?\"\n\n\n \"We'd have a long wait,\" Four observed. \"Fweep is the only one of his\n kind on this planet.\"\n\n\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"Probably he's immortal.\"\n\n\n \"And he doesn't reproduce?\" Reba asked sympathetically.\n\n\n \"Probably not. If he doesn't die, there's no point in reproduction.\n Reproduction is nature's way of providing racial immortality to mortal\n creatures.\"\n\n\n \"But he must have some way of reproduction,\" Reba argued. \"An egg or\n something. He couldn't just have sprung into being as he is now.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe he developed,\" Four offered. \"It seems to me that he's bigger\n than when we first landed.\" \"He must have been here a long, long time,\"\n Fred said. \"Fweepland, as Four calls it, kept its atmosphere and its\n water, which a planet this size ordinarily would have lost by now.\"\nReba looked at Fweep kindly. \"We can thank the little fellow for that,\n anyway.\"\n\n\n \"I thank him for nothing,\" Joyce snapped. \"He lured us down here by\n making us think the planet had heavy metals and I want him to let us go\nimmediately\n!\"\n\n\n Fred turned impatiently on his wife. \"Well, try making him understand!\n And if you can make him understand what you want him to do, try making\n him do it!\"\n\n\n Joyce looked at Fred with startled eyes. \"Fred!\" she said in a high,\n shocked voice and turned blindly toward her room.\n\n\n Grampa lowered his bottle and smacked his lips. \"Well, boy,\" he said to\n Fred, \"I thought you'd never do that. Didn't think you had it in you.\"\n\n\n Fred stood up apologetically. \"I'd better go calm her down,\" he\n muttered, and walked quickly after Joyce.\n\n\n \"Give her one for me!\" Grampa called.\n\n\n Fred's shoulders twitched as the door closed behind him. From the room\n came the filtered sound of high-pitched voices rising and falling like\n some reedy folk music.\n\n\n \"Makes you think, doesn't it?\" Grampa said, looking at Fweep benignly.\n \"Maybe the whole theory of gravitation is cockeyed. Maybe there's a\n Fweep for every planet and sun, big and little, polarizing the gravity\n in circles, and the matter business is not a cause but a result.\"\n\n\n \"What I can't understand,\" Junior said thoughtfully, \"is why the\n polarizer worked for a little while when we landed—long enough to keep\n us from being squashed—and then quit.\"\n\n\n \"Fweep didn't recognize it immediately, didn't know what it was or\n where it came from,\" Four explained. \"All he knew was he didn't like\n linear polarization and he neutralized it as soon as he could. That's\n when we dropped.\"\n\"Linear polarization is uncomfortable for him, is it?\" Grampa said.\n \"Makes you wonder how something like Fweep could ever develop.\"\n\n\n \"He's no more improbable than people,\" said Four.\n\n\n \"Less than some I've known,\" Grampa conceded.\n\n\n \"If he can eat anything,\" Reba said, \"why does he keep sweeping the\n cabin for dust and lint?\"\n\n\n \"He wants to be helpful,\" Four replied without hesitation, \"and he's\n lonely. After all,\" he added wistfully, \"he's never had any friends.\"\n\n\n \"How do you know all these things?\" Joyce asked from her doorway,\n excitement in her voice. \"Can you talk to it?\"\n\n\n Behind her, Fred said, \"Now, Joyce, you promised—\"\n\n\n \"But this is important,\" Joyce cut him off eagerly. \"Can you? Talk to\n it, I mean?\"\n\n\n \"Some,\" Four admitted.\n\n\n \"Have you asked it to let us go?\"\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Well? What did it say?\"\n\n\n \"He said he didn't want his friend to leave him.\"\n\n\n At the word, Fweep rolled swiftly across the floor and bounced into\n Four's lap. It nestled against him lovingly and opened raspberry lips.\n \"Fwiend,\" it said.\n\n\n \"Well, now,\" Grampa said maliciously, his eye on Joyce, \"that's no\n problem. We can just leave Four here with Fweep.\"\n\n\n In a voice filled with sanctimonious concern, Joyce said, \"That's quite\n a sacrifice to ask, but—\"\n\n\n \"Joyce!\" Reba cried, horrified. \"Grampa was joking, but you actually\n mean it. Four is only a baby and yet you'd let him—\"\n\n\n \"Never mind, Reba,\" Four said evenly. \"It was just what I was going to\n suggest myself. It's the one really logical solution.\"\n\n\n \"Fwiend,\" said Fweep gently.\nThe land of the Fweep turned like a fat old man toasting himself in\n front of an open fire, and Junior sat at the computer's keyboard\n swearing in a steady monotone.\n\n\n \"Junior!\" said Joyce, shocked.\n\n\n Junior swung around impatiently. \"Sorry, Mother, but this damned thing\n won't work.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sure that calling it names won't help, and besides, you shouldn't\n expect a machine to do something that we can't do. And if it did work,\n it would only say that the logical answer is the one I sug—\"\n\n\n \"Mother!\" Junior warned. \"We decided not to talk about it any more.\n Four is strange enough without encouraging him to think like a martyr.\n It's out of the question. If that's the only way we can leave this\n planet, we'll stay here until Four has a beard as white as Grampa's!\"\n\n\n \"Well!\" Joyce said in a stiff, offended tone and sat back in her chair.\n\n\n Grampa lowered the nippled bottle from his lips and chortled. \"Junior,\n I apologize for all the mean things I ever said about you. Maybe you\n got the makings of a Peppergrass yet.\"\n\n\n Junior turned back to the keyboard and studied it, his chin in his\n hand. \"It's just a matter of stating the problem in terms the computer\n can work on.\"\n\n\n \"I take it all back,\" said Grampa. \"That computer won't help you with\n this problem, Junior. This ain't a long, complicated calculation; it's\n a simple problem in logic. It's a pircuit problem, like the one about\n the cannibals and the missionaries. We can't leave Fweepland because\n Fweep won't let our polarizer work. He won't let our polarizer work\n because he doesn't like gravity that's polarized in a straight line,\n and he don't want Four to leave him.\n\n\n \"Now Fweep ain't the brightest creature in the Universe, so he can't\n understand why we're so gosh-fired eager to leave. And as long as he's\n got Four, he's happy. Why should he make himself unhappy? As a favor\n to Four, he'd let us leave—if we'd leave Four here with him, which we\n ain't gonna do.\n\n\n \"That's the problem. All we got to do is figure out the answer. No use\n making a pircuit, because a puzzle circuit is just a miniature computer\n with the solution built in; if you can build the pircuit, you've\n already solved the problem. And if you can state the problem to Abacus,\n you've already got the answer. All you want from it then is decimal\n points.\"\n\n\n \"That may be,\" Junior said stubbornly, \"but I still want to know why\n this computer won't work. It won't even do simple arithmetic! Where's\n Four? He's the only one who understands this thing.\"\n\n\n \"He's outside, playing in the meadow with Fweep,\" Reba said, her voice\n soft. \"No, here they come now.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why is gravity on the planet abnormal?", "question_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447_1", "options": ["There is much more gravity than Earth", "It has polarized gravity", "It is not the straight-line kind of gravity", "There is much less gravity than Earth"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is known about the planet that they are stranded on?", "question_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447_2", "options": ["It has no plant life", "They spotted it while transiting Earth’s solar system", "It could be anywhere in the universe", "It is several days travel from Earth"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Grampa’s claim to fame?", "question_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447_3", "options": ["Striking radioactive deposits on far flung planets that can be sold back on Earth for a fortune", "Solving all the pircuits he’d ever been challenged with", "Being the first space missionary", "Creating a special piece of machinery for spaceships"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the ultimate reason that the family can’t leave the planet?", "question_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447_4", "options": ["Four’s companionship with the blob creature", "The polarizer is missing parts", "They are out of fuel", "The crash landing damaged the fliverr"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Joyce and her grandson?", "question_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447_5", "options": ["She defends him staying with the family even when the rest think otherwise", "She has little patience for his intelligence", "She can’t stand his boyish mischief on his adventures", "She has no grandson"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": " How does the family work together?", "question_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447_6", "options": ["They tend to think things will work out in the end", "They tend to be angry with each other at times", "They tend to think the best of each other and avoid most arguments", "They are deeply divided"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Four and Grampa?", "question_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447_7", "options": ["Grampa sees Four as the least reliable of the family", "Four is mature for his age and Grampa enjoys his companionship", "Four challenges Grampa in a way that annoys him", "Grampa never could understand why Four didn’t get the intelligence of the other Peppergrass progeny"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is the family travelling together?", "question_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447_8", "options": ["As an opportunity for them to make money", "They narrowly escaped Earth’s destruction by blasting off in the spaceship together", "They are missionaries wanting to colonize new planets", "As a family vacation"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are the names of the Peppergrass lineage from youngest to oldest?", "question_unique_id": "49897_D53LJ447_9", "options": ["Junior - Four - Fred - Grampa", "Four -  Junior - Fred - Joyce - Grandpa", "Four - Fred - Reba - Junior - Grandpa", "Four - Junior - Fred - Grandpa"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/4/9/8/9/49897//49897-h//49897-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51126", "set_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Princess and the Physicist", "year": 1961, "author": "Smith, Evelyn E.", "topic": "PS; Space colonies -- Fiction; Science fiction; Scientists -- Fiction; Extrasolar planets -- Fiction; Gods -- Fiction; Princesses -- Fiction", "article": "The Princess and the Physicist\nBy EVELYN E. SMITH\n\n\n Illustrated by KOSSIN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction June 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nElected a god, Zen the Omnipotent longed\n \nfor supernatural powers—for he was also\n \nZen the All-Put-Upon, a galactic sucker!\nZen the Terrible lay quiescent in the secret retreat which housed his\n corporeal being, all the aspects of his personality wallowing in the\n luxury of a day off. How glad he was that he'd had the forethought to\n stipulate a weekly holiday for himself when first this godhood had\n been thrust upon him, hundreds of centuries before. He'd accepted the\n perquisites of divinity with pleasure then. It was some little time\n before he discovered its drawbacks, and by then it was too late; he had\n become the established church.\n\n\n All the aspects of his personality rested ... save one, that is. And\n that one, stretching out an impalpable tendril of curiosity, brought\n back to his total consciousness the news that a spaceship from Earth\n had arrived when no ship from Earth was due.\nSo what?\nthe total consciousness asked lazily of itself.\nProbably\n they have a large out-of-season order for hajench. My hajench going to\n provide salad bowls for barbarians!\nWhen, twenty years previously, the Earthmen had come back to their\n colony on Uxen after a lapse of thousands of years, Zen had been\n hopeful that they would take some of the Divine Work off his hands.\n After all, since it was they who had originally established the\n colony, it should be their responsibility. But it seemed that all\n humans, not merely the Uxenach, were irresponsible. The Earthmen were\n interested only in trade and tribute. They even refused to believe in\n the existence of Zen, an attitude which he found extremely irritating\n to his ego.\nTrue, Uxen prospered commercially to a mild extent after their return,\n for the local ceramics that had been developed in the long interval\n found wide acceptance throughout the Galaxy, particularly the low bowls\n which had hitherto been used only for burning incense before Zen the\n Formidable.\n\n\n Now every two-bit planet offered hajench in its gift shops.\n\n\n Culturally, though, Uxen had degenerated under the new Earth\n administration. No more criminals were thrown to the skwitch. Xwoosh\n lost its interest when new laws prohibited the ancient custom of\n executing the losing side after each game.\n\n\n There was no tourist trade, for the planet was too far from the rest\n of the Galaxy. The commercial spaceships came only once every three\n months and left the same day. The two destroyers that \"guarded\" the\n planet arrived at rare intervals for fueling or repairs, but the crew\n never had anything to do with the Uxenach. Local ordinance forbade the\n maidens of Uxen to speak to the outlanders, and the outlanders were not\n interested in any of the other native products.\n\n\n But the last commercial spaceship had departed less than three weeks\n before on its regular run, and this was not one of the guard ships.\n\n\n Zen reluctantly conceded to himself that he would have to investigate\n this situation further, if he wanted to retain his reputation for\n omniscience. Sometimes, in an occasional moment of self-doubt, he\n wondered if he weren't too much of a perfectionist, but then he\n rejected the thought as self-sacrilege.\n\n\n Zen dutifully intensified the beam of awareness and returned it to the\n audience chamber where the two strange Earthmen who had come on the\n ship were being ushered into the presence of the king by none other\n than Guj, the venerable prime minister himself.\n\n\n \"Gentlemen,\" Guj beamed, his long white beard vibrating in an excess of\n hospitality, \"His Gracious Majesty will be delighted to receive you at\n once.\"\n\n\n And crossing his wrists in the secular xa, he led the way to where Uxlu\n the Fifteenth was seated in full regalia upon his imposing golden,\n gem-encrusted throne.\n\n\n Uxlu himself, Zen admitted grudgingly, was an imposing sight to anyone\n who didn't know the old yio. The years—for he was a scant decade\n younger than Guj—had merely lent dignity to his handsome features, and\n he was still tall and upright.\n\n\n \"Welcome, Earthlings, to Uxen,\" King Uxlu said in the sonorous tones of\n the practiced public speaker. \"If there is aught we can do to advance\n your comfort whilst you sojourn on our little planet, you have but to\n speak.\"\nHe did not, Zen noted with approval, rashly promise that requests\n would necessarily be granted. Which was fine, because the god well\n knew who the carrier out of requests would be—Zen the Almighty, the\n All-Powerful, the All-Put-Upon....\n\n\n \"Thank you, Your Majesty,\" the older of the two scientists said. \"We\n merely seek a retired spot in which to conduct our researches.\"\n\n\n \"Researches, eh?\" the king repeated with warm interest. \"Are you\n perhaps scientists?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Your Majesty.\" Every one of Zen's perceptors quivered\n expectantly. Earth science was banned on Uxen, with the result that its\n acquisition had become the golden dream of every Uxena, including, of\n course, their god.\n\n\n The older scientist gave a stiff bow. \"I am an anthropologist. My\n name is Kendrick, Professor Alpheus Kendrick. My assistant, Dr. Peter\n Hammond—\" he indicated the tall young man with him—\"is a physicist.\"\nThe king and the prime minister conferred together in whispers. Zen\n wished he could join them, but he couldn't materialize on that plane\n without incense, and he preferred his subjects not to know that he\n could be invisibly present, especially on his day off. Of course, his\n Immaterial Omnipresence was a part of the accepted dogma, but there is\n a big difference between accepting a concept on a basis of faith or of\n proven fact.\n\n\n \"Curious researches,\" the king said, emerging from the conference,\n \"that require both physics\nand\nanthropology.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" said Kendrick. \"They are rather involved at that.\" Peter Hammond\n shuffled his feet.\n\n\n \"Perhaps some of our technicians might be of assistance to you,\" the\n king suggested. \"They may not have your science, but they are very\n adept with their hands....\"\n\n\n \"Our researches are rather limited in scope,\" Kendrick assured him. \"We\n can do everything needful quite adequately ourselves. All we need is a\n place in which to do it.\"\n\n\n \"You shall have our own second-best palace,\" the king said graciously.\n \"It has both hot and cold water laid on, as well as central heating.\"\n\n\n \"We've brought along our own collapsible laboratory-dwelling,\" Kendrick\n explained. \"We just want a spot to set it up.\"\n\n\n Uxlu sighed. \"The royal parks are at your disposal. You will\n undoubtedly require servants?\"\n\n\n \"We have a robot, thanks.\"\n\n\n \"A robot is a mechanical man who does all our housework,\" Hammond, more\n courteous than his superior, explained. Zen wondered how he could ever\n have felt a moment's uneasiness concerning these wonderful strangers.\n\n\n \"Zen will be interested to hear of this,\" the prime minister said\n cannily. He and the king nodded at one another.\n\n\n \"\nWho\ndid you say?\" Kendrick asked eagerly.\n\n\n \"Zen the Terrible,\" the king repeated, \"Zen the All-Powerful, Zen the\n Encyclopedic. Surely you have heard of him?\" he asked in some surprise.\n \"He's Uxen's own particular, personal and private god, exclusive to our\n planet.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, of course I've heard about him,\" Kendrick said, trembling\n with hardly repressed excitement.\nWhat a correct attitude!\nZen thought.\nOne rarely finds such\n religious respect among foreigners.\n\"In fact, I've heard a great deal about him and I should like to know\n even more!\" Kendrick spoke almost reverently.\n\n\n \"He\nis\nan extremely interesting divinity,\" the king replied\n complacently. \"And if your robot cannot teleport or requires a hand\n with the heavy work, do not hesitate to call on Zen the Accommodating.\n We'll detail a priest to summon—\"\n\n\n \"The robot manages very well all by itself, thank you,\" Kendrick said\n quickly.\nIn his hideaway, the material body of Zen breathed a vast multiple sigh\n of relief. He was getting to like these Earthmen more and more by the\n minute.\n\n\n \"Might I inquire,\" the king asked, \"into the nature of your researches?\"\n\n\n \"An investigation of the prevalent nuclear ritual beliefs on Uxen in\n relation to the over-all matrix of social culture, and we really must\n get along and see to the unloading of the ship. Good-by, Your\n Majesty ... Your Excellency.\" And Kendrick dragged his protesting aide\n off.\n\n\n \"If only,\" said the king, \"I were still an absolute monarch, I would\n teach these Earthlings some manners.\" His face grew wistful. \"Well I\n remember how my father would have those who crossed him torn apart by\n wild skwitch.\"\n\n\n \"If you did have the Earthlings torn apart by wild skwitch, Sire,\" Guj\n pointed out, \"then you would certainly never be able to obtain any\n information from them.\"\nUxlu sighed. \"I would merely have them torn apart a little—just enough\n so that they would answer a few civil questions.\" He sighed again.\n \"And, supposing they did happen to—er—pass on, in the process, think\n of the tremendous lift to my ego. But nobody thinks of the king's ego\n any more these days.\"\n\n\n No, things were not what they had been since the time the planet had\n been retrieved by the Earthlings. They had not communicated with Uxen\n for so many hundreds of years, they had explained, because, after a\n more than ordinarily disastrous war, they had lost the secret of space\n travel for centuries.\n\n\n Now, wanting to make amends for those long years of neglect, they\n immediately provided that the Earth language and the Earth income tax\n become mandatory upon Uxen. The language was taught by recordings.\n Since the Uxenach were a highly intelligent people, they had all\n learned it quickly and forgotten most of their native tongue except for\n a few untranslatable concepts.\n\n\n \"Must be a new secret atomic weapon they're working on,\" Uxlu decided.\n \"Why else should they come to such a remote corner of the Galaxy? And\n you will recall that the older one—Kendrick—said something about\n nuclear beliefs. If only we could discover what it is, secure it for\n ourselves, perhaps we could defeat the Earthmen, drive them away—\" he\n sighed for the third time that morning—\"and rule the planet ourselves.\"\nJust then the crown princess Iximi entered the throne room. Iximi\n really lived up to her title of Most Fair and Exalted, for centuries\n of selective breeding under which the kings of Uxen had seized the\n loveliest women of the planet for their wives had resulted in an\n outstanding pulchritude. Her hair was as golden as the ripe fruit that\n bent the boughs of the iolo tree, and her eyes were bluer than the uriz\n stones on the belt girdling her slender waist. Reproductions of the\n famous portrait of her which hung in the great hall of the palace were\n very popular on calendars.\n\n\n \"My father grieves,\" she observed, making the secular xa. \"Pray tell\n your unworthy daughter what sorrow racks your noble bosom.\"\n\n\n \"Uxen is a backwash,\" her father mourned. \"A planet forgotten, while\n the rest of the Galaxy goes by. Our ego has reached its nadir.\"\n\n\n \"Why did you let yourself be conquered?\" the princess retorted\n scornfully. \"Ah, had I been old enough to speak then, matters would be\n very different today!\" Although she seemed too beautiful to be endowed\n with brains, Iximi had been graduated from the Royal University with\n high honors.\n\n\n Zen the Erudite was particularly fond of her, for she had been his best\n student in Advanced Theology. She was, moreover, an ardent patriot and\n leader of the underground Moolai (free) Uxen movement, with which Zen\n was more or less in sympathy, since he felt Uxen belonged to him and\n not to the Earthlings. After all, he had been there first.\n\n\n \"\nLet\nourselves be conquered!\" Her father's voice rose to a squeak.\n \"\nLet\nourselves! Nobody asked us—we\nwere\nconquered.\"\n\n\n \"True, but we could at least have essayed our strength against the\n conquerors instead of capitulating like yioch. We could have fought to\n the last man!\"\n\n\n \"A woman is always ready to fight to the last man,\" Guj commented.\n\n\n \"Did you hear that, ancient and revered parent! He called me, a\n princess of the blood, a—a woman!\"\n\n\n \"We are all equal before Zen,\" Guj said sententiously, making the high\n xa.\n\n\n \"Praise Zen,\" Uxlu and Iximi chanted perfunctorily, bowing low.\n\n\n Iximi, still angry, ordered Guj—who was also high priest—to start\n services. Kindling the incense in the hajen, he began the chant.\n\n\n Of course it was his holiday, but Zen couldn't resist the appeal of\n the incense. Besides he was there anyway, so it was really no trouble,\nno trouble\n, he thought, greedily sniffing the delicious aroma,\nat\n all\n. He materialized a head with seven nostrils so that he was able to\n inhale the incense in one delectable gulp. Then, \"No prayers answered\n on Thursday,\" he said, and disappeared. That would show them!\n\n\n \"Drat Zen and his days off!\" The princess was in a fury. \"Very well,\n we'll manage without Zen the Spiteful. Now, precisely what is troubling\n you, worthy and undeservedly Honored Parent?\"\n\n\n \"Those two scientists who arrived from Earth. Didn't you meet them\n when you came in?\"\n\n\n \"No, Respected Father,\" she said, sitting on the arm of the throne. \"I\n must have just missed them. What are they like?\"\nHe told her what they were like in terms not even a monarch should use\n before his daughter. \"And these squuch,\" he concluded, \"are undoubtedly\n working on a secret weapon. If we had it, we could free Uxen.\"\n\n\n \"Moolai Uxen!\" the princess shouted, standing up. \"My friends, must we\n continue to submit to the yoke of the tyrant? Arise. Smite the....\"\n\n\n \"Anyone,\" said Guj, \"can make a speech.\"\n\n\n The princess sat on the steps of the throne and pondered. \"Obviously we\n must introduce a spy into their household to learn their science and\n turn it to our advantage.\"\n\n\n \"They are very careful, those Earthlings,\" Guj informed her\n superciliously. \"It is obvious that they do not intend to let any of us\n come near them.\"\n\n\n The princess gave a knowing smile. \"But they undoubtedly will need at\n least one menial to care for their dwelling. I shall be that menial. I,\n Iximi, will so demean myself for the sake of my planet! Moolai Uxen!\"\n\n\n \"You cannot do it, Iximi,\" her father said, distressed. \"You must not\n defile yourself so. I will not hear of it!\"\n\n\n \"And besides,\" Guj interposed, \"they will need no servants. All their\n housework is to be done by their robot—a mechanical man that performs\n all menial duties. And you, Your Royal Highness, could not plausibly\n disguise yourself as a machine.\"\n\n\n \"No-o-o-o, I expect not.\" The princess hugged the rosy knees\n revealed by her brief tunic and thought aloud, \"But ... just ...\n supposing ... something ... went wrong with the robot.... They do\n not possess another?\"\n\n\n \"They referred only to one, Highness,\" Guj replied reluctantly. \"But\n they may have the parts with which to construct another.\"\n\n\n \"Nonetheless, it is well worth the attempt,\" the princess declared.\n \"You will cast a spell on the robot, Guj, so that it stops.\"\n\n\n He sighed. \"Very well, Your Highness; I suppose I could manage that!\"\n\n\n Making the secular xa, he left the royal pair. Outside, his voice could\n be heard bellowing in the anteroom, \"Has any one of you squuch seen my\n pliers?\"\n\n\n \"There is no need for worry, Venerated Ancestor,\" the princess assured\n the monarch. \"All-Helpful Zen will aid me with my tasks.\"\n\n\n Far away in his arcane retreat, the divinity groaned to himself.\nAnother aspect of Zen's personality followed the two Earthmen as they\n left the palace to supervise the erection of their prefab by the crew\n of the spaceship in one of the Royal Parks. A vast crowd of Uxenach\n gathered to watch the novelty, and among them there presently appeared\n a sinister-looking old man with a red beard, whom Zen the Pansophic had\n no difficulty in recognizing as the prime minister, heavily disguised.\n Of course it would have been no trouble for Zen to carry out Guj's\n mission for him, but he believed in self-help—especially on Thursdays.\n\n\n \"You certainly fixed us up fine!\" Hammond muttered disrespectfully to\n the professor. \"You should've told the king we were inventing a vacuum\n cleaner or something. Now they'll just be more curious than ever....\n And I still don't see why you refused the priest. Seems to me he'd be\n just what you needed.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, and the first to catch on to why we're here. We mustn't\n antagonize the natives; these closed groups are so apt to resent any\n investigation into their mythos.\"\n\n\n \"If it's all mythical, why do you need a scientist then?\"\n\n\n \"A physical scientist, you mean,\" Kendrick said austerely. \"For\n anthropology is a science, too, you know.\"\n\n\n Peter snorted.\n\n\n \"Some Earthmen claim actually to have seen these alleged\n manifestations,\" Kendrick went on to explain, \"in which case there must\n be some kind of mechanical trickery involved—which is where you come\n in. Of course I would have preferred an engineer to help me, but you\n were all I could get from the government.\"\n\n\n \"And you wouldn't have got me either, if the Minister of Science didn't\n have it in for me!\" Peter said irately. \"I'm far too good for this\n piddling little job, and you know it. If it weren't for envy in high\n places—\"\n\n\n \"Better watch out,\" the professor warned, \"or the Minister might decide\n you're too good for science altogether, and you'll be switched to a\n position more in keeping with your talents—say, as a Refuse Removal\n Agent.\"\nAnd what is wrong with the honored art of Refuse Removal?\nZen\n wondered. There were a lot of mystifying things about these Earthmen.\nThe scientists' quaint little edifice was finally set up, and the\n spaceship took its departure. It was only then that the Earthmen\n discovered that something they called cigarettes couldn't be found in\n the welter of packages, and that the robot wouldn't cook dinner or, in\n fact, do anything.\nGood old Guj\n, Zen thought.\n\n\n \"I can't figure out what's gone wrong,\" Peter complained, as he\n finished putting the mechanical man together again. \"Everything seems\n to be all right, and yet the damned thing won't function.\"\n\n\n \"Looks as if we'll have to do the housework ourselves, confound it!\"\n\n\n \"Uh-uh,\" Peter said. \"You can, but not me. The Earth government put me\n under your orders so far as this project is concerned, sir, but I'm not\n supposed to do anything degrading, sir, and menial work is classified\n as just that, sir, so—\"\n\n\n \"All right, all\nright\n!\" Kendrick said. \"Though it seems to me if\nI'm\nwilling to do it,\nyou\nshould have no objection.\"\n\n\n \"It's your project, sir. I gathered from the king, though,\" Peter\n added more helpfully, \"that some of the natives still do menial labor\n themselves.\"\n\n\n \"How disgusting that there should still be a planet so backward that\n human beings should be forced to do humiliating tasks,\" Kendrick said.\nYou don't know the half of it, either\n, Zen thought, shocked all the\n way back to his physical being. It had never occurred to him that the\n functions of gods on other planets might be different than on Uxen ...\n unless the Earthlings failed to pay reverence to their own gods, which\n seemed unlikely in view of the respectful way with which Professor\n Kendrick had greeted the mention of Zen's Awe-Inspiring Name. Then\n Refuse Removal was not necessarily a divine prerogative.\nThose first colonists were very clever\n, Zen thought bitterly,\nsweet-talking me into becoming a god and doing all their dirty work.\n I was happy here as the Only Inhabitant; why did I ever let those\n interlopers involve me in Theolatry? But I can't quit now. The Uxenach\n need Me ... and I need incense; I'm fettered by my own weakness. Still,\n I have the glimmerings of an idea....\n\"Oh, how much could a half-witted menial find out?\" Peter demanded.\n \"Remember, it's either a native servant, sir, or you do the housework\n yourself.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" Kendrick agreed gloomily. \"We'll try one of the natives.\"\nSo the next day, still attended by the Unseen Presence of Zen, they\n sought audience with the prime minister.\n\n\n \"Welcome, Earthmen, to the humble apartments of His Majesty's most\n unimportant subject,\" Guj greeted them, making a very small xa as he\n led them into the largest reception room.\n\n\n Kendrick absently ran his finger over the undercarving of a small gold\n table. \"Look, no dust,\" he whispered. \"Must have excellent help here.\"\n\n\n Zen couldn't help preening just a bit. At least he did his work well;\n no one could gainsay that.\n\n\n \"Your desire,\" Guj went on, apparently anxious to get to the point, \"is\n my command. Would you like a rojh of dancing girls to perform before\n you or—?\"\n\n\n \"The king said something yesterday about servants being available,\"\n Kendrick interrupted. \"And our robot seems to have broken down. Could\n you tell us where we could get someone to do our housework?\"\n\n\n An expression of vivid pleasure illuminated the prime minister's\n venerable countenance. \"By fortunate chance, gentlemen, a small lot of\n maids is to be auctioned off at a village very near the Imperial City\n tomorrow. I should be delighted to escort you there personally.\"\n\n\n \"Auctioned?\" Kendrick repeated. \"You mean they\nsell\nservants here?\"\n\n\n Guj raised his snowy eyebrows. \"Sold? Certainly not; they are leased\n for two years apiece. After all, if you have no lease, what guarantee\n do you have that your servants will stay after you have trained them?\n None whatsoever.\"\n\n\n When the two scientists had gone, Iximi emerged from behind a\n bright-colored tapestry depicting Zen in seven hundred and fifty-three\n of his Attributes.\n\n\n \"The younger one is not at all bad-looking,\" she commented, patting her\n hair into place. \"I do like big blond men. Perhaps my task will not be\n as unpleasant as I fancied.\"\n\n\n Guj stroked his beard. \"How do you know the Earthlings will select\nyou\n, Your Highness? Many other maids will be auctioned off at the\n same time.\"\n\n\n The princess stiffened angrily. \"They'll pick me or they'll never leave\n Uxen alive and you, Your Excellency, would not outlive them.\"\nAlthough it meant he had to overwork the other aspects of his multiple\n personality, Zen kept one free so that the next day he could join\n the Earthmen—in spirit, that was—on their excursion in search of a\n menial.\n\n\n \"If, as an anthropologist, you are interested in local folkways,\n Professor,\" Guj remarked graciously, as he and the scientists piled\n into a scarlet, boat-shaped vehicle, \"you will find much to attract\n your attention in this quaint little planet of ours.\"\n\n\n \"Are the eyes painted on front of the car to ward off demons?\" Kendrick\n asked.\n\n\n \"Car? Oh, you mean the yio!\" Guj patted the forepart of the vehicle.\n It purred and fluttered long eyelashes. \"We breed an especially bouncy\n strain with seats; they're so much more comfortable, you know.\"\n\n\n \"You mean this is a\nlive\nanimal?\"\n\n\n Guj nodded apologetically. \"Of course it does not go very fast. Now if\n we had the atomic power drive, such as your spaceships have—\"\n\n\n \"You'd shoot right off into space,\" Hammond assured him.\n\n\n \"Speed,\" said Kendrick, \"is the curse of modern civilization. Be glad\n you still retain some of the old-fashioned graces here on Uxen. You\n see,\" he whispered to his assistant, \"a clear case of magico-religious\n culture-freezing, resulting in a static society unable to advance\n itself, comes of its implicit reliance upon the powers of an omnipotent\n deity.\"\n\n\n Zen took some time to figure this out.\nBut that's right!\nhe\n concluded, in surprise.\n\n\n \"I thought your god teleported things?\" Peter asked Guj. \"How come he\n doesn't teleport you around, if you're in such a hurry to go places?\"\n\n\n Kendrick glared at him. \"Please remember that I'm the anthropologist,\"\n he hissed. \"You have got to know how to describe the Transcendental\n Personality with the proper respect.\"\n\n\n \"We don't have Zen teleport animate objects,\" the prime minister\n explained affably. \"Or even inanimate ones if they are fragile.\n For He tends to lose His Temper sometimes when He feels that He is\n overworked—\"\nFeels, indeed!\nZen said to himself—\"and throws things\n about. We cannot reprove Him for His misbehavior. After all, a god is a\n god.\"\n\n\n \"The apparent irreverence,\" Kendrick explained in an undertone,\n \"undoubtedly signifies that he is dealing with ancillary or, perhaps,\n peripheral religious beliefs. I must make a note of them.\" He did so.\nBy the time the royal yio had arrived at the village where the\n planetary auctions for domestics were held, the maids were already\n arranged in a row on the platform. Most were depressingly plain\n creatures and dressed in thick sacklike tunics. Among them, the\n graceful form of Iximi was conspicuous, clad in a garment similar in\n cut but fashioned of translucent gauze almost as blue as her eyes.\n\n\n Peter straightened his tie and assumed a much more cheerful expression.\n \"Let's rent\nthat one\n!\" he exclaimed, pointing to the princess.\n\"Nonsense!\" Kendrick told him. \"In the first place, she is obviously\n the most expensive model. Secondly, she would be too distracting\n for you. And, finally, a pretty girl is never as good a worker as a\n plain.... We'll take that one.\" The professor pointed to the dumpiest\n and oldest of the women. \"How much should I offer to start, Your\n Excellency? No sense beginning the bidding too high. We Earthmen aren't\n made of money, in spite of what the rest of the Galaxy seems to think.\"\n\n\n \"A hundred credits is standard,\" Guj murmured. \"However, sir, there is\n one problem—have you considered how you are going to communicate with\n your maid?\"\n\n\n \"Communicate? Are they mutes?\"\n\n\n \"No, but very few of these women speak Earth.\" A look of surprise\n flitted over the faces of the servants, vanishing as her royal highness\n glared at them.\n\n\n Kendrick pursed thin lips. \"I was under the impression that the Earth\n language was mandatory on Uxen.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, it is; it is, indeed!\" Guj said hastily. \"However, it is so\n hard to teach these backward peasants new ways.\" One of the backward\n peasants gave a loud sniff, which changed to a squeal as she was\n honored with a pinch from the hand of royalty. \"But you will not betray\n us? We are making rapid advances and before long we hope to make Earth\n universal.\"\n\n\n \"Of course we won't,\" Peter put in, before Kendrick had a chance to\n reply. \"What's more, I don't see why the Uxenians shouldn't be allowed\n to speak their own language.\"\n\n\n The princess gave him a dazzling smile. \"Moolai Uxen! We must not allow\n the beautiful Uxulk tongue to fall into desuetude. Bring back our\n lovely language!\"\n\n\n Guj gestured desperately. She tossed her head, but stopped.\n\n\n \"Please, Kendrick,\" Peter begged, \"we've got to buy that one!\"\n\n\n \"Certainly not. You can see she's a troublemaker. Do you speak Earth?\"\n the professor demanded of the maid he had chosen.\n\n\n \"No speak,\" she replied.\n\n\n Peter tugged at his superior's sleeve. \"That one speaks Earth.\"\n\n\n Kendrick shook him off. \"Do you speak Earth?\" he demanded of the second\n oldest and ugliest. She shook her head. The others went through the\n same procedure.\n\n\n \"It looks,\" Peter said, grinning, \"as if we'll have to take mine.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose so,\" Kendrick agreed gloomily, \"but somehow I feel no good\n will come of this.\"\n\n\n Zen wondered whether Earthmen had powers of precognition.\n\n\n No one bid against them, so they took a two-year lease on the crown\n princess for the very reasonable price of a hundred credits, and drove\n her home with them.\n\n\n Iximi gazed at the little prefab with disfavor. \"But why are we halting\n outside this gluu hutch, masters?\"\n\n\n Guj cleared his throat. \"Sirs, I wish you joy.\" He made the secular xa.\n \"Should you ever be in need again, do not hesitate to get in touch with\n me at the palace.\" And, climbing into the yio, he was off.\nThe others entered the small dwelling. \"That little trip certainly gave\n me an appetite,\" Kendrick said, rubbing his hands together. \"Iximi, you\n had better start lunch right away. This is the kitchen.\"\n\n\n Iximi gazed around the cubicle with disfavor. \"Truly it is not much,\"\n she observed. \"However, masters, if you will leave me, I shall endeavor\n to do my poor best.\"\n\n\n \"Let me show you—\" Peter began, but Kendrick interrupted.\n\n\n \"Leave the girl alone, Hammond. She must be able to cook, if she's a\n professional servant. We've wasted the whole morning as it is; maybe we\n can get something done before lunch.\"\n\n\n Iximi closed the door, got out her portable altar—all members of the\n royal family were qualified members of the priesthood, though they\n seldom practiced—and in a low voice, for the door and walls were\n thin, summoned Zen the All-Capable.\n\n\n The god sighed as he materialized his head. \"I might have known you\n would require Me. What is your will, oh Most Fair?\"\n\n\n \"I have been ordered to prepare the strangers' midday repast, oh\n Puissant One, and I know not what to do with all this ukh, which they\n assure me is their food.\" And she pointed scornfully to the cans and\n jars and packages.\n\n\n \"How should\nI\nknow then?\" Zen asked unguardedly.\n\n\n The princess looked at him. \"Surely Zen the All-Knowing jests?\"\n\n\n \"Er—yes. Merely having My Bit of Fun, you know.\" He hastily inspected\n the exterior of the alleged foods. \"There appear to be legends\n inscribed upon the containers. Perchance, were we to read them, they\n might give a clue as to their contents.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Omniscent One,\" the princess exclaimed, \"truly You are Wise and\n Sapient indeed, and it is I who was the fool to have doubted for so\n much as an instant.\"\n\n\n \"Oh you doubted, did you?\" Terrible Zen frowned terribly. \"Well, see\n that it doesn't happen again.\" He had no intention of losing his divine\n authority at this stage of the game.\n\n\n \"Your Will is mine, All-Wise One. And I think You had best materialize\n a few pair of arms as well as Your August and Awe-inspiring\n Countenance, for there is much work to be done.\"\nSince the partitions were thin, Zen and the princess could hear most of\n the conversation in the main room. \"... First thing to do,\" Kendrick's\n voice remarked, \"is find out whether we're permitted to attend one\n of their religious ceremonies, where Zen is said to manifest himself\n actually and not, it is contended, just symbolically....\"\n\n\n \"The stove is here, Almighty,\" the princess suggested, \"not against the\n door where you are pressing Your Divine Ear.\"\n\n\n \"Shhh. What I hear is fraught with import for the future of the planet.\n Moolai Uxen.\"\n\n\n \"Moolai Uxen,\" the princess replied automatically.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was the population of the Uxen like among the galaxy?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_1", "options": ["They were far-ranging and colonized many planets", "They mounted expeditions to explore other planets", "The only remaining Uxen were the royal family", "They only existed on one planet"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the true intentions of the Earth visitors appear to be?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_2", "options": ["Search for atomic materials to construct weapons", "Study the spiritual structure of the society", "Provide them with spaceships", "Test the atmosphere and geology for colonization"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do the Earth visitors in the story seem to regard the Uxen women?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_3", "options": ["The princess is the only woman in the story, so it’s hard to tell", "Women are highly revered and banned from doing “menial work”", "Beauty is the highest value, has negative correlation with work ethic", "They are treated equally as all things are equal under their deity"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the nature of the menial work on the planet?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_4", "options": ["There are similar themes to slavery", "Menial work is thought of as equal in importance to all other work", "Zen is tasked with doing the menial jobs so the civilization doesn’t need to", "The Earth visitors have to do menial work to support the Uxen and gain their trust"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Zen think of the plan the royal father and daughter hatched?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_5", "options": ["He was unhappy when they told him", "He was aware of the plan unfolding the entire time because of his all-knowing", "He thought it was not going to work", "He was pleased he would get to torture people from Earth"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Earth and the planet the story is centered around?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_6", "options": ["The planet was saved by Earth and forever in the debt", "Earth people were the original colonists, which had subsequently lost contact for hundreds of years", "The planet started a war with Earth that they lost, and were banished to their current planet without space ships", "Earth started a war with the planet, took it over, and then systematically wiped out it’s language and culture"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between the king and the deity?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_7", "options": ["The king is pleased that the deity gives him credit where it is deserved", "The king feels his power is less respected", "The deity feels the king steals all the attention", "They feel they are equal"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How can Zen be aware of activities happening outside of his sight?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_8", "options": ["When he is summoned by a follower, he then becomes aware of the activities in the room", "He can view activities in his mind, materialize other places, and be summoned as a floating head", "He can only become aware by materializing in random locations he thinks are suspicious of activity. He can remain invisible, but leaves a smell in the air", "He can view them through channels in his own mind, but can not materialize in other locations"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How is Zen’s planet regarded in the galaxy?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_9", "options": ["It is feared by most other planets due to their ferocity", "It is invisible to others in the galaxy because of Zen’s spells", "It is generally cast off as uninteresting", "It is thought of as the heaven of the galaxy"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Zen become divine?", "question_unique_id": "51126_PGSZW543_10", "options": ["The king’s priest cast a spell that made him so", "He was asked and accepted the role", "He comes from a lineage of divine beings", "He is only putting on a show and does not actually have divine powers"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/1/2/51126//51126-h//51126-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51350", "set_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "No Substitutions", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Short stories; Psychological fiction; Science fiction; Prisons -- Fiction; PS", "article": "NO SUBSTITUTIONS\nBy JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by JOHNSON\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine November 1958.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nIf it was happening to him, all right, he could\n \ntake that ... but what if he was happening to it?\nPutting people painlessly to sleep is really a depressing job. It\n keeps me awake at night thinking of all those bodies I have sent to\n the vaults, and it interferes to a marked extent with my digestion. I\n thought before Councilman Coleman came to see me that there wasn't much\n that could bother me worse.\n\n\n Coleman came in the morning before I was really ready to face the\n day. My nerves were fairly well shot from the kind of work I did as\n superintendent of Dreamland. I chewed up my pill to calm me down,\n the one to pep me up, the capsule to strengthen my qualities as a\n relentless perfectionist. I washed them down with gin and orange\n juice and sat back, building up my fortitude to do business over the\n polished deck of my desk.\n\n\n But instead of the usual morning run of hysterical relatives and\n masochistic mystics, I had to face one of my superiors from the\n Committee itself.\n\n\n Councilman Coleman was an impressive figure in a tailored black tunic.\n His olive features were set off by bristling black eyes and a mobile\n mustache. He probably scared most people, but not me. Authority doesn't\n frighten me any more. I've put to sleep too many megalomaniacs,\n dictators, and civil servants.\n\n\n \"Warden Walker, I've been following your career with considerable\n interest,\" Coleman said.\n\n\n \"My career hasn't been very long, sir,\" I said modestly. I didn't\n mention that\nnobody\ncould last that long in my job. At least, none\n had yet.\n\n\n \"I've followed it from the first. I know every step you've made.\"\n\n\n I didn't know whether to be flattered or apprehensive. \"That's fine,\" I\n said. It didn't sound right.\n\n\n \"Tell me,\" Coleman said, crossing his legs, \"what do you think of\n Dreamland in principle?\"\n\n\n \"Why, it's the logical step forward in penal servitude. Man has been\n heading toward this since he first started civilizing himself. After\n all, some criminals\ncan't\nbe helped psychiatrically. We can't execute\n them or turn them free; we have to imprison them.\"\n\n\n I waited for Coleman's reaction. He merely nodded.\n\n\n \"Of course, it's barbaric to think of a prison as a place of\n punishment,\" I continued. \"A prison is a place to keep a criminal away\n from society for a specific time so he can't harm that society for that\n time. Punishment, rehabilitation, all of it is secondary to that. The\n purpose of confinement is confinement.\"\nThe councilman edged forward an inch. \"And you really think Dreamland\n is the most humane confinement possible?\"\n\n\n \"Well,\" I hedged, \"it's the most humane we've found yet. I suppose\n living through a—uh—movie with full sensory participation for year\n after year can get boring.\"\n\n\n \"I should think so,\" Coleman said emphatically. \"Warden, don't you\n sometimes feel the old system where the prisoners had the diversions\n of riots, solitary confinement, television, and jailbreaks may have\n made time easier to serve? Do these men ever think they are\nactually\nliving these vicarious adventures?\"\n\n\n That was a question that made all of us in the Dreamland service\n uneasy. \"No, Councilman, they don't. They know they aren't really\n Alexander of Macedonia, Tarzan, Casanova, or Buffalo Bill. They are\n conscious of all the time that is being spent out of their real lives;\n they know they have relatives and friends outside the dream. They know,\n unless—\"\n\n\n Coleman lifted a dark eyebrow above a black iris. \"Unless?\"\n\n\n I cleared my throat. \"Unless they go mad and really believe the dream\n they are living. But as you know, sir, the rate of madness among\n Dreamland inmates is only slightly above the norm for the population as\n a whole.\"\n\n\n \"How do prisoners like that adjust to reality?\"\n\n\n Was he deliberately trying to ask tough questions? \"They don't. They\n think they are having some kind of delusion. Many of them become\n schizoid and pretend to go along with reality while secretly 'knowing'\n it to be a lie.\"\n\n\n Coleman removed a pocket secretary and broke it open. \"About these new\n free-choice models—do you think they genuinely are an improvement over\n the old fixed-image machines?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" I replied. \"By letting the prisoner project his own\n imagination onto the sense tapes and giving him a limited amount of\n alternatives to a situation, we can observe whether he is conforming to\n society to a larger extent.\"\n\n\n \"I'm glad you said that, Walker,\" Councilman Coleman told me warmly.\n \"As I said, I've been following your career closely, and if you\n get through the next twenty-four-hour period as you have through\n the foregoing part of your Dream, you will be awakened at this time\n tomorrow. Congratulations!\"\n\n\n I sat there and took it.\n\n\n He was telling\nme\n, the superintendent of Dreamland, that my own\n life here was only a Dream such as I fed to my own prisoners. It was\n unbelievably absurd, a queasy little joke of some kind. But I didn't\n deny it.\nIf it\nwere\ntrue, if I had forgotten that everything that happened was\n only a Dream, and if I admitted it, the councilman would know I was\n mad.\nIt couldn't be true.\nYet—\n\n\n Hadn't I thought about it ever since I had been appointed warden and\n transferred from my personnel job at the plant?\n\n\n Whenever I had come upon two people talking, and it seemed as if I had\n come upon those same two people talking the same talk before, hadn't I\n wondered for an instant if it couldn't be a Dream, not reality at all?\n\n\n Once I had experienced a Dream for five or ten minutes. I was driving\n a ground car down a spidery road made into a dismal tunnel by weeping\n trees, a dank, lavender maze. I had known at the time it was a Dream,\n but still, as the moments passed, I became more intent on the\n difficult road before me, my blocky hands on the steering wheel, thick\n fingers typing out the pattern of motion on the drive buttons.\n\n\n I could remember that. Maybe I couldn't remember being shoved into the\n prison vault for so many years for such and such a crime.\n\n\n I didn't really believe this, not then, but I couldn't afford to make\n a mistake, even if it were only some sort of intemperate test—as I\n was confident it was, with a sweet, throbbing fury against the man who\n would employ such a jagged broadsword for prying in his bureaucratic\n majesty.\n\n\n \"I've always thought,\" I said, \"that it would be a good idea to show\n a prisoner what the modern penal system was all about by giving him a\n Dream in which he dreamed about Dreamland itself.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, indeed,\" Coleman concurred. Just that and no more.\n\n\n I leaned intimately across my beautiful oak desk. \"I've thought that\n projecting officials into the Dream and letting them talk with the\n prisoners might be a more effective form of investigation than mere\n observation.\"\n\n\n \"I should say so,\" Coleman remarked, and got up.\n\n\n I\nhad\nto get more out of him, some proof, some clue beyond the\n preposterous announcement he had made.\n\n\n \"I'll see you tomorrow at this time then, Walker.\" The councilman\n nodded curtly and turned to leave my office.\n\n\n I held onto the sides of my desk to keep from diving over and teaching\n him to change his concept of humor.\n\n\n The day was starting. If I got through it, giving a good show, I would\n be released from my Dream, he had said smugly.\n\n\n But if this was a dream, did I want probation to reality?\nHorbit was a twitchy little man whose business tunic was the same\n rodent color as his hair. He had a pronounced tic in his left cheek. \"I\n have to get back,\" he told me with compelling earnestness.\n\n\n \"Mr. Horbit—Eddie—\" I said, glancing at his file projected on my desk\n pad, \"I can't put you back into a Dream. You served your full time for\n your crime. The maximum.\"\n\n\n \"But I haven't adjusted to society!\"\n\n\n \"Eddie, I can shorten sentences, but I can't expand them beyond the\n limit set by the courts.\"\n\n\n A tear of frustration spilled out of his left eye with the next twitch.\n \"But Warden, sir, my psychiatrist said that I was unable to cope with\n reality. Come on now, Warden, you don't want a guy who can't cope with\n reality running around loose.\" He paused, puzzled. \"Hell, I don't\n know why I can't express myself like I used to.\"\n\n\n He could express himself much better in his Dream. He had been Abraham\n Lincoln in his Dream, I saw. He had lived the life right up to the\n night when he was taking in\nAn American Cousin\nat the Ford Theater.\n Horbit couldn't accept history that he had no more life to live. He\n only knew that if in his delirium he could gain Dreamland once more, he\n could get back to the hard realities of dealing with the problems of\n Reconstruction.\n\n\n \"\nPlease\n,\" he begged.\n\n\n I looked up from the file. \"I'm sorry, Eddie.\"\n\n\n His eyes narrowed, both of them, on the next twitch. \"Warden, I can\n always go out and commit another anti-social act.\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid not, Eddie. The file shows you are capable of only one\n crime. And you don't have a wife any more, and she doesn't have a\n lover.\"\n\n\n Horbit laughed. \"Your files aren't infallible, Warden.\"\n\n\n With one gesture, he ripped open his tunic and tore into his own flesh.\n No, not his own flesh. Pseudo-flesh. He took out the gun that was\n underneath.\n\n\n \"The beamer is made of X-ray-transparent plastic, Warden, but it works\n as well as one made of steel and lead.\"\n\n\n \"Now that you've got it in here,\" I said in time with the pulse in my\n throat, \"what are you going to do with it?\"\n\n\n \"I'm going to make you go down to the vaults and put me back to sleep,\n Warden.\"\n\n\n I nodded. \"I suppose you can do that. But what's to prevent me from\n waking you up as soon as I've taken away your gun?\"\n\n\n \"This!\" He tossed a sheet of paper onto my desk.\n\n\n \"What's this?\" I asked unnecessarily. I could read it.\n\n\n \"A confession that you accepted a bribe to put me back to sleep,\"\n Horbit said, his tic beating out a feverish tempo. \"As soon as you've\n signed it, I'll use your phone to have it telefaxed to the Registrar of\n Private Documents.\"\n\n\n I had to admire the thought behind the idea. Horbit was convinced that\n I was only a figment of his unfocused imagination, but he was playing\n the game with uncompromising logic, trusting that even madness had hard\n and tight rules behind it.\n\n\n There was also something else I admired about the plan.\n\n\n It could work.\n\n\n Once he fed that document to the archives, I would be obligated to help\n him even without the gun. My word would probably be taken that I had\n been forced to do it at gunpoint, but there would always be doubts,\n enough to wreck my career when it came time for promotion.\n\n\n Nothing like this had ever happened in my years as warden.\nSuddenly, Coleman's words hit me in the back of the neck.\nIf I got\n through the next twenty-four hours.\nThis had to be some kind of test.\n\n\n But a test for what?\n\n\n Had I been deliberately told that I was living only a Dream to see\n if my ethics would hold up even when I thought I wasn't dealing with\n reality?\n\n\n Or if this\nwas\nonly a Dream, was it a test to see if I was morally\n ready to return to the real, the earnest world?\n\n\n But if it was a test to see if I was ready for reality, did I want to\n pass it? My life was nerve-racking and mind-wrecking, but I liked the\n challenge—it was the only life I knew or could believe in.\n\n\n What was I going to do?\n\n\n The only thing I knew was that I couldn't tune in tomorrow and find out.\n\n\n The time was\nnow\n.\n\n\n Horbit motioned the gun to my desk set. \"Sign that paper.\"\n\n\n I reached out and took hold of his wrist. I squeezed.\n\n\n Horbit's screams brought in the guards.\n\n\n I picked up the gun from where he had dropped it and handed it to\n Captain Keller, my head guard, a tough old bird who wore his uniform\n like armor.\n\n\n \"Trying to force his way back to the sleep tanks,\" I told Keller.\n\n\n He nodded. \"Happened before. Back when old man Preston lost his grip.\"\n\n\n Preston had been my predecessor. He had lost his hold on reality like\n all the others before him who had served long as warden of Dreamland.\n A few had quit while they were still ahead and spent the rest of their\n lives recuperating. Our society didn't produce individuals tough enough\n to stand the strain of putting their fellow human beings to sleep for\n long.\n\n\n One of Keller's men had stabbed Horbit's arm with a hypospray to\n blanket the pain from his broken wrist, and the man was quieter.\n\n\n \"I couldn't have done it, Warden,\" Horbit mumbled drowsily. \"I couldn't\n kill anybody. Unless it was like that other time.\"\n\n\n \"Of course, Eddie,\" I said.\n\n\n I had banked on that, hadn't I, when I made my move?\n\n\n Or did I?\n\n\n Wasn't it perhaps a matter of knowing that all of it wasn't real and\n that the safety cutoffs in even a free-choice model of a Dream Machine\n couldn't let me come to any real harm? I had been suspiciously brave,\n disarming a dedicated maniac. With only an hour to spare for gym a day,\n I could barely press 350 pounds. I was hardly in shape for personal\n combat.\n\n\n On the other hand, maybe I actually wanted something to go wrong so my\n sleep sentence would be extended. Or was it that, in some sane part of\n my mind, I wanted release from unreality badly enough to take any risk\n to prove that I was morally capable of returning to the real world?\n\n\n It was a carrousel and I couldn't catch the brass ring no matter how\n many turns I went spinning through.\n\n\n I hardly heard Horbit when he half-shouted at me as my men led him from\n the room. Glancing up sharply, I saw him straining purposefully against\n the bonds of muscle and narcotic that held him.\n\"You have to send me back now, Warden,\" he was shrilling. \"You have to!\n I tried to coerce you with a gun. That's a crime, Warden—you\nknow\nthat's a crime! I have to be put to sleep!\"\n\n\n Keller flicked his mustache with a thick thumbnail. \"How about that?\n You won't let a guy back into the sleepy-bye pads, so he pulls a gun\n on you to make you, and\nthat\nmakes him eligible. He couldn't lose,\n Warden. No, sir, he had it made.\"\n\n\n My answer to Keller was forming, building up in my jaw muscles, but I\n took a pill and it went away.\n\n\n \"Hold him in the detention quarters,\" I said finally. \"I'm going to\n make a study of this.\"\n\n\n Keller winked knowingly and sauntered out of the office, his left hand\n swinging the blackjack the Committee had taken away from him a decade\n before.\n\n\n The problem of what to do with Keller wasn't particularly atypical of\n the ones I had to solve daily and I wasn't going to let that worry me.\n Much.\n\n\n I pressed my button to let Mrs. Engle know I was ready for the next\n interview.\nThey came. There were the hysterical relatives, the wives and mothers\n and brothers who demanded that their kin be Awakened because they were\n special cases, not really guilty, or needed at home, or possessed of\n such awesome talents and qualities as to be exempt from the laws of\n lesser men.\n\n\n Once in a while I granted a parole for a prisoner to see a dying mother\n or if some important project was falling apart without his help, but\n most of the time I just sat with my eyes propped open, letting a sea of\n vindictive screeching and beseeching wailings wash around me.\n\n\n The relatives and legal talent were spaced with hungry-eyed mystics\n who were convinced they could contemplate God and their navels\n both conscientiously as an incarnation of Gautama. To risk sounding\n religiously intolerant, I usually kicked these out pretty swiftly.\n\n\n The onetime inmate who wanted back in after a reprieve was fairly rare.\n Few of them ever got\nthat\ncrazy.\n\n\n But it was my luck to get another the same day,\nthe\nday for me, as\n Horbit.\n\n\n Paulson was a tall, lean man with sad eyes. The clock above his sharp\n shoulder bone said five till noon. I didn't expect him to take much out\n of my lunch hour.\n\n\n \"Warden,\" Paulson said, \"I've decided to give myself up. I murdered a\n blind beggar the other night.\"\n\n\n \"For his pencils?\" I asked.\n\n\n Paulson shifted uneasily. \"No, sir. For his money. I needed some extra\n cash and I was stronger than he was, so why shouldn't I take it?\"\n\n\n I examined the projection of his file. He was an embezzler, not a\n violent man. He had served his time and been released. Conceivably he\n might embezzle again, but the Committee saw to it that temptation was\n never again placed in his path. He would not commit a crime of violence.\n\n\n \"Look, Paulson,\" I said, a trifle testily, \"if you have so little\n conscience as to kill a blind old man for a few dollars, where do you\n suddenly get enough guilt feelings to cause you to give yourself up?\"\n\n\n Paulson tried his insufficient best to smile evilly. \"It wasn't\n conscience, Warden. I never lie awake a minute whenever I kill\n anybody. It's just—well, Dreaming isn't so bad. Last time I was Allen\n Pinkerton, the detective. It was exciting. A lot more exciting than the\n kind of life I lead.\"\n\n\n I nodded solemnly. \"Yes, no doubt strangling old men in the streets can\n be pretty dull for a red-blooded man of action.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Paulson said earnestly, \"it does get to be a humdrum routine.\n I've been experimenting with all sorts of murders, but I just don't\n seem to get much of a kick out of them now. I'd like to try it from the\n other end as Pinkerton again. Of course, if you can't arrange it, I\n guess I'll have to go out and see what I can do with, say, an ax.\" His\n eye glittered almost convincingly.\n\n\n \"Paulson, you know I could have you watched night and day if I thought\n you really were a murderer. But I can't send you back to the sleep\n vaults without proof and conviction for a crime.\"\n\n\n \"That doesn't sound very reasonable,\" Paulson objected. \"Turning loose\n a homicidal maniac who is offering to go back to the vaults of his own\n free will just because you lack a little trifling proof of his guilt.\"\n\n\n \"Sure,\" I told him, \"but I don't want to share the same noose with you.\n My job is to keep the innocent out and the convicted in. And I do my\n job, Paulson.\"\n\n\n \"But you have to! If you don't, I'll have to go out and establish my\n guilt with another crime. Do you want a crime on your hands, Warden?\"\n\n\n I studied his record. There was a chance, just a chance....\n\n\n \"Do you want to wait voluntarily in the detention quarters?\" I asked\n him.\n\n\n He agreed readily enough.\n\n\n I watched him out of the office and rang for lunch.\n\n\n The news on the wall video was dull as usual. A man got tired of\n hearing peace, safety, prosperity and brotherly love all the time. I\n dug into my strained spinach, raw hamburger, and chewed up my white\n pill, my red pill, my ebony pill, and my second white pill. The gin and\n tomato juice took the taste away.\n\n\n I was ready for the afternoon session.\nMatrons were finishing the messy job of dragging a hysterical woman\n out of the office when Keller came back. He had a stubborn look on his\n flattened, red face.\n\n\n \"New prisoner asking to see you personal,\" Keller reported. \"Told him\n no. Okay?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" I said. \"He can see me. That's the law and you know it. He\n isn't violent, is he?\" I asked in some concern. The room was still in\n disarray.\n\n\n \"Naw, he ain't violent, Warden. He just thinks he's somebody important.\"\n\n\n \"Sounds like a case for therapy, not Dreamland. Who does he think he\n is?\"\n\n\n \"One of the Committee—Councilman Coleman.\"\n\n\n \"Mm-hmm. And who is he really, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"Councilman Coleman.\"\n\n\n I whistled. \"What did they nail him on?\"\n\n\n \"Misuse of authority.\"\n\n\n \"And he didn't get a suspended for that?\"\n\n\n \"Wasn't his first offense. Still want to see him?\"\n\n\n I gave a lateral wave of my hand. \"Of course.\"\n\n\n My pattern of living—call it my office routine—had been\n re-established through the day. I hadn't had a chance to brood much\n over the bombshell Coleman had tossed in my lap in the morning, but now\n I could think.\n\n\n Coleman entered wearing the same black tunic, the same superior\n attitude. His black eyes fastened on me.\n\n\n \"Sit down, Councilman,\" I directed.\n\n\n He deigned to comply.\n\n\n I studied the files flashed before me. Several times before, Coleman\n had been guilty of slight misuses of his authority: helping his\n friends, harming his enemies. Not enough to make him be impeached\n from the Committee. His job was so hypersensitive that if every\n transgression earned dismissal, no one could hold the position more\n than a day. Even with the best intentions, mistakes can be taken for\n deliberate errors. Not to mention the converse. For his earlier errors,\n Coleman had first received a suspended sentence, then two terminal\n sentences to be fixed by the warden. My predecessors had given him\n first a few weeks, then a few months of sleep in Dreamland.\nColeman's eyes didn't frighten me; I focused right on the pupils. \"That\n was a pretty foul trick, Councilman. Did you hope to somehow frighten\n me out of executing this sentence by what you told me this morning?\"\n\n\n I couldn't follow his reasoning. Just how making me think my life was\n only a Dream such as I imposed on my own prisoners could help him, I\n couldn't see.\n\n\n \"Warden Walker,\" Coleman intoned in his magnificent voice, \"I'm\n shocked.\nI\nam not personally monitoring your Dream. The Committee as\n a whole will decide whether you are capable of returning to the real\n world. Moreover, please don't get carried away. I'm not concerned with\n what you do to this sensory projection of myself, beyond how it helps\n to establish your moral capabilities.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose,\" I said heavily, \"that I could best establish my high moral\n character by excusing you from this penal sentence?\"\n\n\n \"Not at all,\" Councilman Coleman asserted. \"According to the facts as\n you know them, I am 'guilty' and must be confined.\"\n\n\n I was stymied for an instant. I had expected him to say that I must\n know that he was incapable of committing such an error and I must\n pardon him despite the misguided rulings of the courts. Then I thought\n of something else.\n\n\n \"You show symptoms of being a habitual criminal, Coleman. I think you\n deserve\nlife\n.\"\n\n\n Coleman cocked his head thoughtfully, concerned. \"That seems rather\n extreme, Warden.\"\n\n\n \"You would suggest a shorter sentence?\"\n\n\n \"If it were my place to choose, yes. A few years, perhaps. But\n life—no, I think not.\"\n\n\n I threw up my hands. You don't often see somebody do that, but I did.\n I couldn't figure him. Coleman had wealth and power as a councilman\n in the real world, but I had thought somehow he wanted to escape to a\n Dream world. Yet he didn't want to be in for life, the way Paulson and\n Horbit did.\n\n\n There seemed to be no point or profit in what he had told me that\n morning, nothing in it for him.\n\n\n Unless—\n\n\n Unless what he said was literally true.\n\n\n I stood up. My knees wanted to quit halfway up, but I made it. \"This,\"\n I said, \"is a difficult decision for me, sir. Would you make yourself\n comfortable here for a time, Councilman?\"\n\n\n Coleman smiled benignly. \"Certainly, Warden.\"\n\n\n I walked out of my office, slowly and carefully.\nHorbit was sitting in his detention quarters idly flicking through\n a book tape on the Civil War when I found him. The tic in his cheek\n marked time with every new page.\n\n\n \"President Lincoln,\" I said reverently.\n\n\n Horbit looked up, his eyes set in a clever new way. \"\nYou\ncall me\n that. Does it mean I am recovering? You don't mean now that I'm getting\n back my right senses?\"\n\n\n \"Mr. President, the situation you find yourself in now is something\n stranger and more evil than any madness. I am not a phantom of your\n mind—I am a\nreal\nman. This wild, distorted place is a\nreal\nplace.\"\n\n\n \"Do you think you can pull the wool over my eyes, you scamp? Mine eyes\n have seen the glory.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\" I sat down beside him and looked earnestly into his\n twitching face. \"But I know you have always believed in the occult.\"\n\n\n He nodded slowly. \"I\nhave\noften suspected this was hell.\"\n\n\n \"Not quite, sir. The occult has its own rigid laws. It is perfectly\n scientific. This world is in another dimension—one that is not length,\n breadth or thickness—but a real one nevertheless.\"\n\n\n \"An interesting theory. Go ahead.\"\n\n\n \"This world is more scientifically advanced than the one you come\n from—and this advanced science has fallen into the hands of a\n well-meaning despot.\"\n\n\n Horbit nodded again. \"The Jefferson Davis type.\"\n\n\n He didn't understand Lincoln's beliefs very well, but I pretended to\n go along with him. \"Yes, sir. He—our leader—doubts your abilities as\n President. He is not above meddling in the affairs of an alien world\n if he believes he is doing good. He has convicted you to this world in\n that belief.\"\n\n\n He chuckled. \"Many of my countrymen share his convictions.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe,\" I said. \"But many here do not. I don't. I know you must return\n to guide the Reconstruction. But first you must convince our leader of\n your worth.\"\n\n\n \"How am I going to accomplish that?\" Horbit asked worriedly.\n\n\n \"You are going to have a companion from now on, an agent of the leader,\n who will pretend to be something he isn't. You must pretend to believe\n in what he claims to be, and convince him of your high intelligence,\n moral responsibilities, and qualities of leadership.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Horbit said thoughtfully, \"yes. I must try to curb my tendency\n for telling off-color jokes. My wife is always nagging me about that.\"\nPaulson was only a few doors away from Horbit. I found him with his\n long, thin legs stretched out in front of him, staring dismally into\n the gloom of the room. No wonder he found reality so boring and\n depressing with so downbeat a mood cycle. I wondered why they hadn't\n been able to do something about adjusting his metabolism.\n\n\n \"Paulson,\" I said gently, \"I want to speak with you.\"\n\n\n He bolted upright in his chair. \"You're going to put me back to sleep.\"\n\n\n \"I came to talk to you about that,\" I admitted.\n\n\n I pulled up a seat and adjusted the lighting so only his face and mine\n seemed to float bodiless in a sea of night, two moons of flesh.\n\n\n \"Paulson—or should I call you Pinkerton?—this will come as a shock, a\n shock I know only a fine analytical mind like yours could stand. You\n think your life as the great detective was only a Dream induced by some\n miraculous machine. But, sir, believe me: that life was\nreal\n.\"\n\n\n Paulson's eyes rolled slightly back into his head and changed their\n luster. \"Then\nthis\nis the Dream. I've thought—\"\n\n\n \"No!\" I snapped. \"This world is also real.\"\n\n\n I went through the same Fourth Dimension waltz as I had auditioned for\n Horbit. At the end of it, Paulson was nodding just as eagerly.\n\n\n \"I could be destroyed for telling you this, but our leader is planning\n the most gigantic conquest known to any intelligent race in the\n Universe. He is going to conquer Earth in all its possible futures and\n all its possible pasts. After that, there are other planets.\"\n\n\n \"He must be stopped!\" Paulson shouted.\n\n\n I laid my palm on his arm. \"Armies can't stop him, nor can fantastic\n secret weapons. Only one thing can stop him: the greatest detective who\n ever lived. Pinkerton!\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Paulson said. \"I suppose I could.\"\n\n\n \"He knows that. But he's a fiend. He wants a battle of wits with you,\n his only possible foe, for the satisfaction of making a fool of you.\"\n\n\n \"Easier said than done, my friend,\" Paulson said crisply.\n\n\n \"True,\" I agreed, \"but he is devious, the devil! He plans to convince\n you that he also has been removed to this world from his own, even as\n you have. He will claim to be Abraham Lincoln.\"\n\n\n \"No!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, and he will pretend to find you accidentally and get you to help\n him find a way back to his own world, glorying in making a fool of you.\n But you can use every moment to learn his every weakness.\"\n\n\n \"But wait. I know President Lincoln well. I guarded him on his first\n inauguration trip. How could this leader of yours fool me? Does he look\n like the President?\"\n\n\n \"Not at all. But remember, the dimensional shift changes physical\n appearance. You've noticed that in yourself.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, of course,\" Paulson muttered. \"But he couldn't hoax me. My keen\n powers of deduction would have seen through him in an instant!\"\nI saw Horbit and Paulson happily off in each other's company. Paulson\n was no longer bored by a reality in which he was matching wits with\n the first master criminal of the paratime universe, and Horbit was no\n longer hopeless in his quest to gain another reality because he knew\n he was not merely insane now.\n\n\n It was a pair of fantastic stories that no man in his right mind would\n believe—but that didn't make them invalid to a brace of ex-Sleepers.\n They\nwanted\nto believe them. The stories gave them what they were\n after—without me having to break the law and put them to sleep for\n crimes they hadn't committed.\n\n\n They would find out some day that I had lied to them, but maybe by that\n time they would have realized this world wasn't so bad.\n\n\n Fortunately, I was confident from their psych records that they were\n both incapable of ending their little game by homicide, no matter how\n justified they might think it was.\n\n\n \"Hey, Warden,\" Captain Keller bellowed as I approached my office\n door, \"when are you going to let me throw that stiff Coleman into the\n sleepy-bye vaults? He's still sitting in there on your furniture as\n smug as you please.\"\n\n\n \"You don't sound as if you like our distinguished visitor very well,\" I\n remarked.\n\n\n \"It's not that. I just don't think he deserves any special privileges.\n Besides, it was guys like him that took away our nightsticks. My boys\n didn't like that. Look at me—I'm defenseless!\"\n\n\n I looked at his square figure. \"Not quite, Captain, not quite.\"\n\n\n Now was the time.\n\n\n I stretched out my wet palm toward the door.\n\n\n Was or was not Coleman telling the truth when he said this life of mine\n was itself only a Dream? If it was, did I want to finish my last day\n with the right decision so I could return to some alien reality? Or did\n I deliberately want to make a mistake so I could continue living the\n opiate of my Dream?\n\n\n Then, as I touched the door, I knew the only decision that could have\n any meaning for me.\n\n\n Councilman Coleman didn't look as if he had moved since I had left him.\n He was unwrinkled, unperspiring, his eyes and mustache crisp as ever.\n He smiled at me briefly in supreme confidence.\n\n\n I changed my decision then, in that moment. And, in the next, changed\n it back to my original choice.\n\n\n \"Coleman,\" I said, \"you can get out of here. As warden, I'm granting\n you a five-year probation.\"\n\n\n The councilman stood up swiftly, his eyes catching little sparks\n of yellow light. \"I don't approve of your decision, Warden. Not at\n all. Unless you alter it, I'll be forced to convince the rest of the\n Committee that your decisions are becoming faulty, that you are losing\n your grip just as all your predecessors did.\"\n\n\n My muscles relaxed in a spasm and it took the fresh flow of adrenalin\n to get me to the chair behind my desk. I took a pill. I took two pills.\n\n\n \"Tell me, Councilman, what happened to the offer to release me from\n this phony Dream? Now you are talking as if\nthis\nworld was the\nreal\none.\"\n\n\n Coleman parted his lips, but then the planes of his face shifted into\n another pattern. \"You never believed me.\"\n\n\n \"Almost, but not quite. You knew I was on the narrow edge in this kind\n of job, but I'm not as far out as you seemed to have thought.\"\n\n\n \"I can still wreck your career, you know.\"\n\n\n \"I don't think so. That would constitute a misuse of authority, and\n the next time you turn up before me, I'm going to give you\nlife\nin\n Dreamland.\"\n\n\n Coleman sat back down suddenly.\n\n\n \"You don't want life as a Sleeper, do you?\" I pursued. \"You did want\n a relatively\nshort\nsentence of a few months or a few years. I can\n think of two reasons why. The answer is probably a combination of\n both. In the first place, you are a joy-popper with Dreams—you don't\n want to live out your life in one, but you like a brief Dream every\n few years like an occasional dose of a narcotic. In the second place,\n you probably have political reasons for wanting to hide out somewhere\n in safety for the next few years. The world isn't as placid as the\n newscasts sometimes make it seem.\"\nHe didn't say anything. I didn't think he had to.\n\n\n \"You wanted to make sure I made a painfully scrupulous decision in\n your case,\" I went on. \"You didn't want me to pardon you completely\n because of your high position, but at the same time you didn't want too\n long a sentence. But I'm doing you no favors. You get no time from me,\n Coleman.\"\n\n\n \"How did you decide to do this?\" he asked. \"Don't tell me you never\n doubted. We've all doubted since we found out about the machines: which\n was real and which was the Dream? How did you decide to risk this?\"\n\n\n \"I acted the only way I could act,\" I said. \"I decided I had to act as\n if my life was real and that you were lying. I decided that because, if\n all this were false, if I could have no more confidence in my own mind\n and my own senses than that, I didn't give a damn if it\nwere\nall a\n Dream.\"\n\n\n Coleman stood up and walked out of my office.\n\n\n The clock told me it was after five. I began clearing my desk.\n\n\n Captain Keller stuck his head in, unannounced. \"Hey, Warden, there's an\n active one out here. He claims that Dreamland compromises His plan for\n the Free Will of the Universe.\"\n\n\n \"Well, escort him inside, Captain,\" I said.\n\n\n I put away my pills. Solving simple problems such as the new visitor\n presented always helped me to relax.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What happened to the warden in the end?", "question_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI_1", "options": ["He was elected to the Council", "He was woken up from his dream", "He went on with his duties", "He died"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the warden think about the people he puts to sleep?", "question_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI_2", "options": ["He wishes deeply to go to sleep himself to know what it’s like", "He thinks their sleep removes them from all knowing or pain of the real world", "He feels badly about it, but does not see what else could possibly be done", "He takes pride in feeling that he is serving his community"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What were Coleman’s motivations in visiting the warden?", "question_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI_3", "options": ["Providing the warden with his annual raise announcement", "Persuading the warden to step down from his position", "Gathering information to bring down the warden’s compound", "Scaring him into believing his life was a dream"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the warden go about solving his conundrum?", "question_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI_4", "options": ["He scoured the databases to see if there were any records related to him in Dreamland", "He went about his duties waiting to one day find out the truth", "He developed a moral scenario where it was revealed to him he was in the real world", "He tasked Keller with finding out the Coleman’s background"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Coleman and the warden?", "question_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI_5", "options": ["They generally enjoy their time together serving the public", "Coleman is playing tricks on the warden and it upsets him", "They have a general understanding of each other as service members", "The warden is unsuspecting of Coleman’s true intentions"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the food the warden eats indicate about his situation?", "question_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI_6", "options": ["He is likely receiving rations", "He orders food from restaurants outside the prison", "He has luxury food ingredients that a prisoner would not have", "He is dreaming"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Horbit beg the narrator for?", "question_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI_7", "options": ["To quit his job", "To sign a statement certifying he was in a dream", "To put him to death", "To put him to sleep"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the narrator put people to sleep?", "question_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI_8", "options": ["The society has decided that incarcerated people will serve their sentence in a dream", "Prisoners on trial confess their actions while they are asleep", "The society has determined that all prisoners will be put to death by lethal injection", "He has hypnotic abilities to put his subjects into long trances"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the narrator get into his profession?", "question_unique_id": "51350_VLBM4QEI_9", "options": ["He took up the job for the pay", "He was elected a Council member by the public", "He is experiencing a Dream that he holds the profession, but we don’t know what his real profession was", "It’s never completely explained how he got into it"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/5/51350//51350-h//51350-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "50948", "set_unique_id": "50948_U9YCQJBR", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Of All Possible Worlds", "year": 1965, "author": "Tenn, William", "topic": "Time travel -- Fiction; Short stories; Science fiction; PS", "article": "Of All Possible Worlds\nBy WILLIAM TENN\n\n\n Illustrated by GAUGHAN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction December 1956.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nChanging the world is simple; the trick is\n \nto do it before you have a chance to undo it!\nIt was a good job and Max Alben knew whom he had to thank for it—his\n great-grandfather.\n\n\n \"Good old Giovanni Albeni,\" he muttered as he hurried into the\n laboratory slightly ahead of the escorting technicians, all of them,\n despite the excitement of the moment, remembering to bob their heads\n deferentially at the half-dozen full-fleshed and hard-faced men\n lolling on the couches that had been set up around the time machine.\n\n\n He shrugged rapidly out of his rags, as he had been instructed in the\n anteroom, and stepped into the housing of the enormous mechanism.\n This was the first time he had seen it, since he had been taught\n how to operate it on a dummy model, and now he stared at the great\n transparent coils and the susurrating energy bubble with much respect.\n\n\n This machine, the pride and the hope of 2089, was something almost\n outside his powers of comprehension. But Max Alben knew how to run it,\n and he knew, roughly, what it was supposed to accomplish. He knew also\n that this was the first backward journey of any great duration and,\n being scientifically unpredictable, might well be the death of him.\n\n\n \"Good old Giovanni Albeni,\" he muttered again affectionately.\n\n\n If his great-grandfather had not volunteered for the earliest\n time-travel experiments way back in the nineteen-seventies, back even\n before the Blight, it would never have been discovered that he and his\n seed possessed a great deal of immunity to extra-temporal blackout.\n\n\n And if that had not been discovered, the ruling powers of Earth, more\n than a century later, would never have plucked Max Alben out of an\n obscure civil-service job as a relief guard at the North American\n Chicken Reservation to his present heroic and remunerative eminence.\n He would still be patrolling the barbed wire that surrounded the three\n white leghorn hens and two roosters—about one-sixth of the known\n livestock wealth of the Western Hemisphere—thoroughly content with\n the half-pail of dried apricots he received each and every payday.\n\n\n No, if his great-grandfather had not demonstrated long ago his unique\n capacity for remaining conscious during time travel, Max Alben would\n not now be shifting from foot to foot in a physics laboratory,\n facing the black market kings of the world and awaiting their final\n instructions with an uncertain and submissive grin.\nMen like O'Hara, who controlled mushrooms, Levney, the blackberry\n tycoon, Sorgasso, the packaged-worm monopolist—would black marketeers\n of their tremendous stature so much as waste a glance on someone like\n Alben ordinarily, let alone confer a lifetime pension on his wife and\n five children of a full spoonful each of non-synthetic sugar a day?\n\n\n Even if he didn't come back, his family was provided for like almost no\n other family on Earth. This was a damn good job and he was lucky.\n\n\n Alben noticed that Abd Sadha had risen from the straight chair at\n the far side of the room and was approaching him with a sealed metal\n cylinder in one hand.\n\n\n \"We've decided to add a further precaution at the last moment,\" the old\n man said. \"That is, the scientists have suggested it and I have—er—I\n have given my approval.\"\n\n\n The last remark was added with a slight questioning note as the\n Secretary-General of the United Nations looked back rapidly at the\n black market princes on the couches behind him. Since they stared back\n stonily, but offered no objection, he coughed in relief and returned to\n Alben.\n\n\n \"I am sure, young man, that I don't have to go into the details of your\n instructions once more. You enter the time machine and go back the\n duration for which it has been preset, a hundred and thirteen years, to\n the moment after the Guided Missile of 1976 was launched. It\nis\n1976,\n isn't it?\" he asked, suddenly uncertain.\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" one of the technicians standing by the time machine said\n respectfully. \"The experiment with an atomic warhead guided missile\n that resulted in the Blight was conducted on this site on April 18,\n 1976.\" He glanced proudly at the unemotional men on the couches, very\n much like a small boy after completing a recitation before visiting\n dignitaries from the Board of Education.\n\n\n \"Just so.\" Abd Sadha nodded. \"April 18, 1976. And on this site. You\n see, young man, you will materialize at the very moment and on the\n very spot where the remote-control station handling the missile\n was—er—handling the missile. You will be in a superb position, a\n superb position, to deflect the missile in its downward course and\n alter human history for the better. Very much for the better. Yes.\"\n\n\n He paused, having evidently stumbled out of his thought sequence.\n\n\n \"And he pulls the red switch toward him,\" Gomez, the dandelion-root\n magnate, reminded him sharply, impatiently.\n\n\n \"Ah, yes, the red switch. He pulls the little red switch toward him.\n Thank you, Mr. Gomez, thank you very much, sir. He pulls the little\n red switch on the green instrument panel toward him, thus preventing\n the error that caused the missile to explode in the Brazilian jungle\n and causing it, instead, to explode somewhere in the mid-Pacific, as\n originally planned.\"\n\n\n The Secretary-General of the United Nations beamed. \"Thus preventing\n the Blight, making it nonexistent, as it were, producing a present-day\n world in which the Blight never occurred. That is correct, is it not,\n gentlemen?\" he asked, turning anxiously again.\nNone of the half-dozen men on couches deigned to answer him. And\n Alben kept his eyes deferentially in their direction, too, as he had\n throughout this period of last-minute instruction.\n\n\n He knew who ruled his world—these stolid, well-fed men in clean\n garments with a minimum of patches, and where patches occurred, at\n least they were the color of the surrounding cloth.\n\n\n Sadha might be Secretary-General of the United Nations, but that\n was still a civil-service job, only a few social notches higher\n than a chicken guard. His clothes were fully as ragged, fully as\n multi-colored, as those that Alben had stepped out of. And the gnawing\n in his stomach was no doubt almost as great.\n\n\n \"You understand, do you not, young man, that if anything goes wrong,\"\n Abd Sadha asked, his head nodding tremulously and anticipating the\n answer, \"if anything unexpected, unprepared-for, occurs, you are not to\n continue with the experiment but return immediately?\"\n\n\n \"He understands everything he has to understand,\" Gomez told him.\n \"Let's get this thing moving.\"\n\n\n The old man smiled again. \"Yes. Of course, Mr. Gomez.\" He came up to\n where Alben stood in the entrance of the time machine and handed the\n sealed metal cylinder to him. \"This is the precaution the scientists\n have just added. When you arrive at your destination, just before\n materializing, you will release it into the surrounding temporal\n medium. Our purpose here, as you no doubt—\"\n\n\n Levney sat up on his couch and snapped his fingers peremptorily. \"I\n just heard Gomez tell you to get this thing moving, Sadha. And it isn't\n moving. We're busy men. We've wasted enough time.\"\n\n\n \"I was just trying to explain a crucial final fact,\" the\n Secretary-General apologized. \"A fact which may be highly—\"\n\n\n \"You've explained enough facts.\" Levney turned to the man inside the\n time machine. \"Hey, fella. You.\nMove!\n\"\n\n\n Max Alben gulped and nodded violently. He darted to the rear of the\n machine and turned the dial which activated it.\nflick!\nIt was a good job and Mac Albin knew whom he had to thank for it—his\n great-grandfather.\n\n\n \"Good old Giovanni Albeni,\" he laughed as he looked at the morose faces\n of his two colleagues. Bob Skeat and Hugo Honek had done as much as he\n to build the tiny time machine in the secret lab under the helicopter\n garage, and they were fully as eager to go, but—unfortunately for\n them—they were not descended from the right ancestor.\n\n\n Leisurely, he unzipped the richly embroidered garment that, as the\n father of two children, he was privileged to wear, and wriggled into\n the housing of the complex little mechanism. This was hardly the\n first time he had seen it, since he'd been helping to build the device\n from the moment Honek had nodded and risen from the drafting board,\n and now he barely wasted a glance on the thumb-size translucent coils\n growing out of the almost microscopic energy bubbles which powered them.\n\n\n This machine was the last hope, of 2089, even if the world of 2089, as\n a whole, did not know of its existence and would try to prevent its\n being put into operation. But it meant a lot more to Mac Albin than\n merely saving a world. It meant an adventurous mission with the risk of\n death.\n\n\n \"Good old Giovanni Albeni,\" he laughed again happily.\n\n\n If his great-grandfather had not volunteered for the earliest\n time-travel experiments way back in the nineteen-seventies, back even\n before the Epidemic, it would never have been discovered that he and\n his seed possessed a great deal of immunity to extra-temporal blackout.\n\n\n And if that had not been discovered, the Albins would not have become\n physicists upon the passage of the United Nations law that everyone\n on Earth—absolutely without exception—had to choose a branch of\n research science in which to specialize. In the flabby, careful,\n life-guarding world the Earth had become, Mac Albin would never have\n been reluctantly selected by his two co-workers as the one to carry the\n forbidden banner of dangerous experiment.\n\n\n No, if his great-grandfather had not demonstrated long ago his unique\n capacity for remaining conscious during time travel, Mac Albin would\n probably be a biologist today like almost everyone else on Earth,\n laboriously working out dreary gene problems instead of embarking on\n the greatest adventure Man had known to date.\n\n\n Even if he didn't come back, he had at last found a socially useful\n escape from genetic responsibility to humanity in general and his own\n family in particular. This was a damn good job and he was lucky.\n\n\n \"Wait a minute, Mac,\" Skeat said and crossed to the other side of the\n narrow laboratory.\nAlbin and Honek watched him stuff several sheets of paper into a small\n metal box which he closed without locking.\n\n\n \"You will take care of yourself, won't you, Mac?\" Hugo Honek pleaded.\n \"Any time you feel like taking an unnecessary risk, remember that Bob\n and I will have to stand trial if you don't come back. We might be\n sentenced to complete loss of professional status and spend the rest of\n our lives supervising robot factories.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, it won't be that bad,\" Albin reassured him absent-mindedly from\n where he lay contorted inside the time machine. He watched Skeat coming\n toward him with the box.\n\n\n Honek shrugged his shoulders. \"It might be a lot worse than even that\n and you know it. The disappearance of a two-time father is going to\n leave an awful big vacancy in the world. One-timers, like Bob and\n me, are all over the place; if either of us dropped out of sight, it\n wouldn't cause nearly as much uproar.\"\n\n\n \"But Bob and you both tried to operate the machine,\" Albin reminded\n him. \"And you blacked out after a fifteen-second temporal displacement.\n So I'm the only chance, the only way to stop the human race from\n dwindling and dwindling till it hits absolute zero, like that fat old\n Security Council seems willing for it to do.\"\n\n\n \"Take it easy, Mac,\" Bob Skeat said as he handed the metal box to\n Albin. \"The Security Council is just trying to solve the problem in\n their way, the conservative way: a worldwide concentration on genetics\n research coupled with the maximum preservation of existing human lives,\n especially those that have a high reproductive potential. We three\n disagree with them; we've been skulking down here nights to solve it\nour\nway, and ours is a radical approach and plenty risky. That's\n the reason for the metal box—trying to cover one more explosive\n possibility.\"\n\n\n Albin turned it around curiously. \"How?\"\n\n\n \"I sat up all last night writing the manuscript that's inside it. Look,\n Mac, when you go back to the Guided Missile Experiment of 1976 and\n push that red switch away from you, a lot of other things are going to\n happen than just deflecting the missile so that it will explode in the\n Brazilian jungle instead of the Pacific Ocean.\"\n\n\n \"Sure. I know. If it explodes in the jungle, the Epidemic doesn't\n occur. No Shapiro's Mumps.\"\n\n\n Skeat jiggled his pudgy little face impatiently. \"That's not what I\n mean. The Epidemic doesn't occur, but something else does. A new world,\n a different 2089, an alternate time sequence. It'll be a world in which\n humanity has a better chance to survive, but it'll be one with problems\n of its own. Maybe tough problems. Maybe the problems will be tough\n enough so that they'll get the same idea we did and try to go back to\n the same point in time to change them.\"\nAlbin laughed. \"That's just looking for trouble.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe it is, but that's my job. Hugo's the designer of the time\n machine and you're the operator, but I'm the theoretical man in this\n research team. It's my job to look for trouble. So, just in case, I\n wrote a brief history of the world from the time the missile exploded\n in the Pacific. It tells why ours is the worst possible of futures.\n It's in that box.\"\n\n\n \"What do I do with it—hand it to the guy from the alternate 2089?\"\n\n\n The small fat man exasperatedly hit the side of the time machine with\n a well-cushioned palm. \"You know better. There won't be any alternate\n 2089 until you push that red switch on the green instrument panel. The\n moment you do, our world, with all its slow slide to extinction, goes\n out and its alternate goes on—just like two electric light bulbs on a\n push-pull circuit. We and every single one of our artifacts, including\n the time machine, disappear. The problem is how to keep that manuscript\n from disappearing.\n\n\n \"Well, all you do, if I have this figured right, is shove the metal\n box containing the manuscript out into the surrounding temporal medium\n a moment before you materialize to do your job. That temporal medium\n in which you'll be traveling is something that exists independent of\n and autonomous to all possible futures. It's my hunch that something\n that's immersed in it will not be altered by a new time sequence.\"\n\"Remind him to be careful, Bob,\" Honek rumbled. \"He thinks he's Captain\n Blood and this is his big chance to run away to sea and become a\n swashbuckling pirate.\"\n\n\n Albin grimaced in annoyance. \"I\nam\nexcited by doing something\n besides sitting in a safe little corner working out safe little\n abstractions for the first time in my life. But I know that this is a\n first experiment. Honestly, Hugo, I really have enough intelligence to\n recognize that simple fact. I know that if anything unexpected pops up,\n anything we didn't foresee, I'm supposed to come scuttling back and ask\n for advice.\"\n\n\n \"I hope you do,\" Bob Skeat sighed. \"I hope you do know that. A\n twentieth century poet once wrote something to the effect that the\n world will end not with a bang, but a whimper. Well, our world is\n ending with a whimper. Try to see that it doesn't end with a bang,\n either.\"\n\n\n \"That I'll promise you,\" Albin said a trifle disgustedly. \"It'll end\n with neither a bang\nnor\na whimper. So long, Hugo. So long, Bob.\"\n\n\n He twisted around, reaching overhead for the lever which activated the\n forces that drove the time machine.\nflick!\nIt was strange, Max Alben reflected, that this time travel business,\n which knocked unconscious everyone who tried it, only made him feel\n slightly dizzy. That was because he was descended from Giovanni Albeni,\n he had been told. There must be some complicated scientific explanation\n for it, he decided—and that would make it none of his business. Better\n forget about it.\n\n\n All around the time machine, there was a heavy gray murk in which\n objects were hinted at rather than stated definitely. It reminded him\n of patrolling his beat at the North American Chicken Reservation in a\n thick fog.\n\n\n According to his gauges, he was now in 1976. He cut speed until he hit\n the last day of April, then cut speed again, drifting slowly backward\n to the eighteenth, the day of the infamous Guided Missile Experiment.\n Carefully, carefully, like a man handling a strange bomb made on a\n strange planet, he watched the center gauge until the needle came to\n rest against the thin etched line that indicated the exactly crucial\n moment. Then he pulled the brake and stopped the machine dead.\n\n\n All he had to do now was materialize in the right spot, flash out and\n pull the red switch toward him. Then his well-paid assignment would be\n done.\n\n\n But....\n\n\n He stopped and scratched his dirt-matted hair. Wasn't there something\n he was supposed to do a second before materialization? Yes, that\n useless old windbag, Sadha, had given him a last instruction.\n\n\n He picked up the sealed metal cylinder, walked to the entrance of the\n time machine and tossed it into the gray murk. A solid object floating\n near the entrance caught his eye. He put his arm out—whew, it was\n cold!—and pulled it inside.\n\n\n A small metal box. Funny. What was it doing out there? Curiously,\n he opened it, hoping to find something valuable. Nothing but a few\n sheets of paper, Alben noted disappointedly. He began to read them\n slowly, very slowly, for the manuscript was full of a lot of long and\n complicated words, like a letter from one bookworm scientist to another.\n\n\n The problems all began with the Guided Missile Experiment of 1976,\n he read. There had been a number of such experiments, but it was\n the one of 1976 that finally did the damage the biologists had been\n warning about. The missile with its deadly warhead exploded in the\n Pacific Ocean as planned, the physicists and the military men went\n home to study their notes, and the world shivered once more over the\n approaching war and tried to forget about it.\n\n\n But there was fallout, a radioactive rain several hundred miles to\n the north, and a small fishing fleet got thoroughly soaked by it.\n Fortunately, the radioactivity in the rain was sufficiently low to do\n little obvious physical damage: All it did was cause a mutation in the\n mumps virus that several of the men in the fleet were incubating at the\n time, having caught it from the children of the fishing town, among\n whom a minor epidemic was raging.\nThe fleet returned to its home town, which promptly came down with the\n new kind of mumps. Dr. Llewellyn Shapiro, the only physician in town,\n was the first man to note that, while the symptoms of this disease were\n substantially milder than those of its unmutated parent, practically no\n one was immune to it and its effects on human reproductivity were truly\n terrible. Most people were completely sterilized by it. The rest were\n rendered much less capable of fathering or bearing offspring.\n\n\n Shapiro's Mumps spread over the entire planet in the next few decades.\n It leaped across every quarantine erected; for a long time, it\n successfully defied all the vaccines and serums attempted against\n it. Then, when a vaccine was finally perfected, humanity discovered\n to its dismay that its generative powers had been permanently and\n fundamentally impaired.\n\n\n Something had happened to the germ plasm. A large percentage of\n individuals were born sterile, and, of those who were not, one child\n was usually the most that could be expected, a two-child parent being\n quite rare and a three-child parent almost unknown.\n\n\n Strict eugenic control was instituted by the Security Council of the\n United Nations so that fertile men and women would not be wasted upon\n non-fertile mates. Fertility was the most important avenue to social\n status, and right after it came successful genetic research.\n\n\n Genetic research had the very best minds prodded into it; the lesser\n ones went into the other sciences. Everyone on Earth was engaged in\n some form of scientific research to some extent. Since the population\n was now so limited in proportion to the great resources available, all\n physical labor had long been done by robots. The government saw to it\n that everybody had an ample supply of goods and, in return, asked only\n that they experiment without any risk to their own lives—every human\n being was now a much-prized, highly guarded rarity.\n\n\n There were less than a hundred thousand of them, well below the danger\n point, it had been estimated, where a species might be wiped out by a\n new calamity. Not that another calamity would be needed. Since the end\n of the Epidemic, the birth rate had been moving further and further\n behind the death rate. In another century....\n\n\n That was why a desperate and secret attempt to alter the past was being\n made. This kind of world was evidently impossible.\n\n\n Max Alben finished the manuscript and sighed. What a wonderful world!\n What a comfortable place to live!\n\n\n He walked to the rear dials and began the process of materializing at\n the crucial moment on April 18, 1976.\nflick!\nIt was odd, Mac Albin reflected, that these temporal journeys, which\n induced coma in everyone who tried it, only made him feel slightly\n dizzy. That was because he was descended from Giovanni Albeni, he\n knew. Maybe there was some genetic relationship with his above-average\n fertility—might be a good idea to mention the idea to a biologist or\n two when he returned.\nIf\nhe returned.\n\n\n All around the time machine, there was a soupy gray murk in which\n objects were hinted at rather than stated definitely. It reminded him\n of the problems of landing a helicopter in a thick fog when the robot\n butler had not been told to turn on the ground lights.\n\n\n According to the insulated register, he was now in 1976. He lowered\n speed until he registered April, then maneuvered slowly backward\n through time to the eighteenth, the day of the infamous Guided Missile\n Experiment. Carefully, carefully, like an obstetrician supervising\n surgical robots at an unusually difficult birth, he watched the\n register until it rolled to rest against the notch that indicated the\n exactly crucial moment. Then he pushed a button and froze the machine\n where it was.\n\n\n All he had to do now was materialize in the right spot, flash out and\n push the red switch from him. Then his exciting adventure would be over.\n\n\n But....\n\n\n He paused and tapped at his sleek chin. He was supposed to do something\n a second before materialization. Yes, that nervous theoretician, Bob\n Skeat, had given him a last suggestion.\n\n\n He picked up the small metal box, twisted around to face the opening\n of the time machine and dropped it into the gray murk. A solid object\n floating near the opening attracted his attention. He shot his arm\n out—it was\ncold\n, as cold as they had figured—and pulled the object\n inside.\n\n\n A sealed metal cylinder. Strange. What was it doing out there?\n Anxiously, he opened it, not daring to believe he'd find a document\n inside. Yes, that was exactly what it was, he saw excitedly. He began\n to read it rapidly, very rapidly, as if it were a newly published paper\n on neutrinos. Besides, the manuscript was written with almost painful\n simplicity, like a textbook composed by a stuffy pedagogue for the use\n of morons.\n\n\n The problems all began with the Guided Missile Experiment of 1976, he\n read. There had been a number of such experiments, but it was the one\n of 1976 that finally did the damage the biologists had been warning\n about. The missile with its deadly warhead exploded in the Brazilian\n jungle through some absolutely unforgivable error in the remote-control\n station, the officer in charge of the station was reprimanded and the\n men under him court-martialed, and the Brazilian government was paid a\n handsome compensation for the damage.\nBut there had been more damage than anyone knew at the time. A plant\n virus, similar to the tobacco mosaic, had mutated under the impact\n of radioactivity. Five years later, it burst out of the jungle and\n completely wiped out every last rice plant on Earth. Japan and a large\n part of Asia became semi-deserts inhabited by a few struggling nomads.\n\n\n Then the virus adjusted to wheat and corn—and famine howled in every\n street of the planet. All attempts by botanists to control the Blight\n failed because of the swiftness of its onslaught. And after it had fed,\n it hit again at a new plant and another and another.\n\n\n Most of the world's non-human mammals had been slaughtered for food\n long before they could starve to death. Many insects, too, before they\n became extinct at the loss of their edible plants, served to assuage\n hunger to some small extent.\n\n\n But the nutritive potential of Earth was steadily diminishing in a\n horrifying geometric progression. Recently, it had been observed,\n plankton—the tiny organism on which most of the sea's ecology was\n based—had started to disappear, and with its diminution, dead fish had\n begun to pile up on the beaches.\n\n\n Mankind had lunged out desperately in all directions in an effort to\n survive, but nothing had worked for any length of time. Even the other\n planets of the Solar System, which had been reached and explored\n at a tremendous cost in remaining resources, had yielded no edible\n vegetation. Synthetics had failed to fill the prodigious gap.\n\n\n In the midst of the sharply increasing hunger, social controls had\n pretty much dissolved. Pathetic attempts at rationing still continued,\n but black markets became the only markets, and black marketeers the\n barons of life. Starvation took the hindmost, and only the most agile\n economically lived in comparative comfort. Law and order were had only\n by those who could afford to pay for them and children of impoverished\n families were sold on the open market for a bit of food.\n\n\n But the Blight was still adjusting to new plants and the food supply\n kept shrinking. In another century....\n\n\n That was why the planet's powerful individuals had been persuaded to\n pool their wealth in a desperate attempt to alter the past. This kind\n of world was manifestly impossible.\n\n\n Mac Albin finished the document and sighed. What a magnificent world!\n What an exciting place to live!\n\n\n He dropped his hand on the side levers and began the process of\n materializing at the crucial moment on April 18, 1976.\nflick!\nAs the equipment of the remote-control station began to take on a\n blurred reality all around him, Max Alben felt a bit of fear at what\n he was doing. The technicians, he remembered, the Secretary-General,\n even the black market kings, had all warned him not to go ahead with\n his instructions if anything unusual turned up. That was an awful lot\n of power to disobey: he knew he should return with this new information\n and let better minds work on it.\n\n\n They with their easy lives, what did they know what existence had been\n like for such as he? Hunger, always hunger, scrabbling, servility, and\n more hunger. Every time things got really tight, you and your wife\n looking sideways at your kids and wondering which of them would bring\n the best price. Buying security for them, as he was now, at the risk of\n his life.\n\n\n But in this other world, this other 2089, there was a state that took\n care of you and that treasured your children. A man like himself, with\nfive\nchildren—why, he'd be a big man, maybe the biggest man on\n Earth! And he'd have robots to work for him and lots of food. Above\n all, lots and lots of food.\n\n\n He'd even be a scientist—\neveryone\nwas a scientist there, weren't\n they?—and he'd have a big laboratory all to himself. This other world\n had its troubles, but it was a lot nicer place than where he'd come\n from. He wouldn't return. He'd go through with it.\n\n\n The fear left him and, for the first time in his life, Max Alben felt\n the sensation of power.\n\n\n He materialized the time machine around the green instrument panel,\n sweating a bit at the sight of the roomful of military figures, despite\n the technicians' reassurances that all this would be happening too fast\n to be visible. He saw the single red switch pointing upward on the\n instrument panel. The switch that controlled the course of the missile.\n Now! Now to make a halfway decent world!\n\n\n Max Alben pulled the little red switch toward him.\nflick!\nAs the equipment of the remote-control station began to oscillate into\n reality all around him, Mac Albin felt a bit of shame at what he was\n doing. He'd promised Bob and Hugo to drop the experiment at any stage\n if a new factor showed up. He knew he should go back with this new\n information and have all three of them kick it around.\n\n\n But what would they be able to tell him, they with their blissful\n adjustment to their thoroughly blueprinted lives? They, at least, had\n been ordered to marry women they could live with; he'd drawn a female\n with whom he was completely incompatible in any but a genetic sense.\n Genetics! He was tired of genetics and the sanctity of human life,\n tired to the tip of his uncalloused fingers, tired to the recesses\n of his unused muscles. He was tired of having to undertake a simple\n adventure like a thief in the night.\n\n\n But in this other world, this other 2089, someone like himself would\n be a monarch of the black market, a suzerain of chaos, making his own\n rules, taking his own women. So what if the weaklings, those unfit to\n carry on the race, went to the wall? His kind wouldn't.\n\n\n He'd formed a pretty good idea of the kind of men who ruled that other\n world, from the document in the sealed metal cylinder. The black\n marketeers had not even read it. Why, the fools had obviously been\n duped by the technicians into permitting the experiment; they had not\n grasped the idea that an alternate time track would mean their own\n non-existence.\n\n\n This other world had its troubles, but it was certainly a livelier\n place than where he'd come from. It deserved a chance. Yes, that was\n how he felt: his world was drowsily moribund; this alternate was\n starving but managing to flail away at destiny. It\ndeserved\na chance.\n\n\n Albin decided that he was experiencing renunciation and felt proud.\n\n\n He materialized the time machine around the green instrument panel,\n disregarding the roomful of military figures since he knew they could\n not see him. The single red switch pointed downward on the instrument\n panel. That was the gimmick that controlled the course of the missile.\n Now! Now to make a halfway interesting world!\n\n\n Mac Albin pushed the little red switch from him.\nflick!\nNow! Now to make a halfway decent world!\n\n\n Max Alben pulled the little red switch toward him.\nflick!\nNow! Now to make a halfway interesting world!\n\n\n Mac Albin pushed the little red switch from him.\nflick!\n... pulled the little red switch toward him.\nflick!\n... pushed the little red switch from him.\nflick!\n... toward him.\nflick!\n... from him.\nflick!\n", "questions": [{"question": "What were Alben’s intentions before he time travelled?", "question_unique_id": "50948_U9YCQJBR_1", "options": ["He anticipated being able to improve his status in life", "He anticipated an adventure and felt privileged to go on one", "He intended to double cross those who gave him orders", "He anticipated changing the way the world was governed"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Albin’s motivation to not turn back on his journey?", "question_unique_id": "50948_U9YCQJBR_2", "options": ["He thought his life would improve", "He knew he would never be asked to time travel again", "He resented his family and didn’t care about risking his life", "He thought he would die on the return trip by blacking out anyways"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What were the two outcomes of pulling the lever or not pulling the lever?", "question_unique_id": "50948_U9YCQJBR_3", "options": ["The outcomes could not be known", "The world would suffer from a deadly human virus either way", "The world starving or the human population crashing", "The population would become largely sterile either way"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the purpose of the object given to Alben before he time travelled?", "question_unique_id": "50948_U9YCQJBR_4", "options": ["It held the machine on pause in 1976 so he could gather his courage and prepare to execute his orders", "It was a time capsule of objects to show the people in the past", "It was a weapon to be used only if absolutely necessary", "It was a record of events to help him remain oriented as to what his timeline was"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Sadha and Alben?", "question_unique_id": "50948_U9YCQJBR_5", "options": ["Sadha and Alben are both capable of time travel and this time Alben was chosen for the mission which Sadha resented", "Sadha takes orders from Alben under the direction of another council", "Sadha was part of designing and building the time machine with Alben", "Sadha provides orders to Alben, and is under the direction of other men who council him, but their relationship goes no further"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the significance of the narrator’s lineage?", "question_unique_id": "50948_U9YCQJBR_6", "options": ["He had genes to be a high class citizen in his current timeline", "He came from a line of distinguished biologists that solved genetics issues", "He had genes to survive time travel", "He knew secrets of time travel machine building that were a privilege above those around him"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/0/9/4/50948//50948-h//50948-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51320", "set_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Break a Leg", "year": 1958, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Short stories; Space ships -- Fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction", "article": "BREAK A LEG\nBy JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by GAUGHAN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction November 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe man worth while couldn't be allowed\n \nto smile ... if he ever laughed at himself,\n \nthe entire ship and crew were as good as dead!\nIf there is anything I am afraid of, and there probably is, it is\n having a rookie Accident Prone, half-starved from the unemployment\n lines, aboard my spaceship. They are always so anxious to please. They\n remember what it is like to live in a rathole behind an apartment\n house furnace eating day-old bread and wilted vegetables, which doesn't\n compare favorably to the Admiralty-style staterooms and steak and\n caviar they draw down in the Exploration Service.\n\n\n You may wonder why anybody should make things so pleasant for a grownup\n who can't walk a city block without tripping over his own feet and who\n has a very low life expectancy on Earth due to the automobiles they are\n constantly stepping in front of and the live wires they are fond of\n picking up so the street won't be littered.\n\n\n The Admiralty, however, is a very thorough group of men. Before they\n open a planet to colonization or even fraternization, they insist on\n knowing just what they are up against.\n\n\n Accident Prones can find out what is wrong with a planet as easily\n as falling off a log, which they will if there is one lonely tree on\n the whole world. A single pit of quicksand on a veritable Eden of a\n planet and a Prone will be knee-deep in it within an hour of blastdown.\n If an alien race will smile patronizingly on your heroic attempts at\n genocide, but be offended into a murderous religious frenzy if you blow\n your nose, you can take the long end of the odds that the Prone will\n almost immediately catch a cold.\n\n\n All of this is properly recorded for the next expedition in the\n Admiralty files, and if it's any consolation, high officials and screen\n stars often visit you in the hospital.\nCharlie Baxter was like all of the other Prones, only worse. Moran III\n was sort of an unofficial test for him and he wanted to make good. We\n had blasted down in the black of night and were waiting for daylight to\n begin our re-survey of the planet. It was Charlie's first assignment,\n so we had an easy one—just seeing if anything new had developed in the\n last fifty years.\n\n\n Baxter's guard was doubled as soon as we set down, of course, and\n that made him fidgety. He had heard all the stories about how high\n the casualty rate was with Prones aboard spaceships and now he was\n beginning to get nervous.\n\n\n Actually Charlie was safer in space than he would be back on Earth\n with all those cars and people. We could have told him how the Service\n practically never lost a Prone—they were too valuable and rare to\n lose—but we did not want him to stop worrying. The precautions we\n took to safeguard him, the armed men who went with him everywhere, the\n Accident Prone First Aid Kit with spare parts for him, blood, eyes,\n bone, nerves, arms, legs, and so forth, only emphasized to him the\n danger, not the rigidly secured safety.\n\n\n We like it that way.\n\n\n No one knows what causes an accident prone. The big insurance\n companies on Earth discovered them when they found out in the last part\n of the nineteenth century that ninety per cent of the accidents were\n happening to a few per cent of the people. They soon found out that\n these people were not malingering or trying to defraud anybody; they\n simply had accidents.\n\n\n I suppose everything from psychology to extra-sensory perception has\n been used to explain or explain away prones. I have my own ideas. I\n think an accident prone is simply a super-genius with a super-doubt of\n himself.\n\n\n I believe accident prones have a better system of calculation than a\n cybernetic machine. They can take\neverything\ninto consideration—the\n humidity, their blood sugar, the expression on the other guy's\n face—and somewhere in the corners and attic of their brain they\ninfallibly\nmake the\nright\nchoice in any given situation. Then,\n because they are incapable of trusting themselves, they do exactly the\n opposite.\n\n\n I felt a little sorry for Charlie Baxter, but I was Captain of the\nHilliard\nand my job was to keep him worried and trying. The worst\n thing that can happen is for a Prone to give up and let himself sink\n into the fate of being a Prone. He will wear the rut right down into a\n tomb.\n\n\n Accident Prones have to stay worried and thinking, trying to break\n out of the jinx that traps them. Usually they come to discover this\n themselves, but by then, if they are real professionals with a career\n in the Service, they have framed the right attitude and they keep it.\nBaxter was a novice and very much of an amateur at the game. He didn't\n like the scoring system, but he was attached to the equipment and\n didn't want to lose it.\n\n\n His clumsiness back on Earth had cost him every decent job he ever had.\n He had come all the way down the line until he was rated eligible only\n for the position of Prone aboard a spaceship. He had been poor—hungry,\n cold, wet, poor—and now he had luxury of a kind almost no one had in\n our era. He was drunk with it, passionately in love with it. It would\n cease to be quite so important after a few years of regular food, clean\n clothes and a solid roof to keep out the rain. But right now I knew he\n would come precariously close to killing to keep it. Or to being killed.\n\n\n He was ready to work.\n\n\n I knocked politely on his hatch and straightened my tunic. I have\n always admired the men who can look starched in a uniform. Mine always\n seemed to wrinkle as soon as I put them around my raw-boned frame.\n Sometimes it is hard for me to keep a military appearance or manner. I\n got my commission during the Crisis ten years back, because of my work\n in the reserve unit that I created out of my employees in the glass\n works (glassware blown to order for laboratories).\n\n\n Someone said something through the door and I went inside.\n\n\n Bronoski looked at me over the top of his picture tape from where he\n lay on the sofa. No one else was in the compartment.\n\n\n \"Where is Baxter?\" I asked the hulking guard. My eyes were on the sofa.\n My own bed pulled out of the wall and was considerably inferior to\n this, much less Baxter's bed in the next cabin. But then I am only a\n captain.\n\n\n Bronoski swung his feet off the couch and stood more or less in what I\n might have taken for attention if I hadn't known him better. \"Sidney\n and Elliot escorted him down to the men's room, Captain Jackson.\"\n\n\n \"You mean,\" I said very quietly, \"that he isn't in his own bath?\"\n\n\n \"No sir,\" Bronoski said wearily. \"He told us it was out of order.\"\n\n\n I stifled the gurgle of rage that came into my throat and motioned\n Bronoski to follow me. The engines on the\nHilliard\nwere more likely\n to be out of order than the plumbing in the Accident Prone's suite. No\n effort was spared to insure comfort for the key man in the whole crew.\n\n\n One glance inside the compartment at the end of the corridor satisfied\n me. There wasn't a thing wrong with the plumbing, so Baxter must have\n had something in mind.\n\n\n On a hunch of my own, I checked the supply lockers next to the airlock\n while Bronoski fired questions at my back. Three translator collars\n were missing. Baxter had left the spaceship and gone off into an alien\n night.\n\n\n Elliot and Sidney, the guards, were absolutely prohibited from\n interfering in any way with a Prone's decisions. They merely had to\n follow him and give their lives to save his, if necessary.\n\n\n I grabbed up a translator collar and tossed one to Bronoski. Then, just\n as we were getting into the airlock, I remembered something and ran\n back to the bridge.\n\n\n The thick brown envelope I had left on my desk was gone. I had shown\n it to Baxter and informed him that he should study it when he felt so\n inclined. He had seemed bored with the idea then, but he had come back\n for the report before leaving the ship. The envelope contained the\n exploration survey on Moran III made some fifty years before.\n\n\n I unlocked a desk drawer with my thumb print and drew out a duplicate\n of the report. I didn't have too much confidence in it and I hoped\n Charlie Baxter had less. Lots of things can change on a planet in fifty\n years, including its inhabitants.\nBronoski picked up Baxter's tracks and those of the two guards, Elliot\n and Sidney, with ultra-violet light. They were cold splotches of green\n fire against the rotting black peat of the jungle path. The whole dark,\n tangled mess smelled of sour mash, an intoxicating bourbon-type aroma.\n\n\n I jogged along following the big man more by instinct than anything\n else, ruining my eyes in an effort to refresh my memory as to the\n contents of the survey report in the cheery little glow from my\n cigarette lighter.\n\n\n The lighter was beginning to feel hot to my fingers and I started to\n worry about radiation leak, although they are supposed to be guaranteed\n perfectly shielded. I read that before the last exploration party had\n left, they had made the Moranite natives blood brothers. Then Bronoski\n knocked me down.\n\n\n Actually he put his hands in the small of my back and shoved politely\n but firmly. Just the same, I went face down into the moist dirt fast\n enough.\n\n\n I raised my head cautiously to see if Bronoski would shove it back\n down. He didn't.\n\n\n I could see through the stringy, alcoholic grass fairly well and there\n were Baxter, Elliot and Sidney in the middle of a curious mob of aliens.\nCharlie Baxter had got pretty thin on his starvation diet back on\n Earth. He had grown a slight pot belly on the good food he drew down as\n Prone, but he was a fairly nice-looking young fellow. He looked even\n better in the pale moonlight, mixed amber and chartreuse from the twin\n satellites, and in contrast to the rest of the group.\n\n\n Elliot Charterson and Sidney Von Elderman were more or less type-cast\n as brawny, brainless bodyguards. Their friends described them as\n muscle-bound apes, but other people sometimes got insulting.\n\n\n The natives were less formidable. They made the slight lump of fat\n Charlie had at his waist look positively indecent.\n\n\n The natives were\nskinny\n. How skinny? Well, the only curves they had\n in their bodies were their bulging eyeballs. But just because they were\n thin didn't mean they were pushovers. Whips and garrotes aren't fat and\n these looked just as dangerous.\n\n\n Whenever I see aliens who are so humanoid, I remember all that Sunday\n supplement stuff about the Galaxy being colonized sometime by one\n humanlike race and the Ten Lost Tribes and so forth.\n\n\n They didn't give me much time to think about it just then. The natives\n looked unhappy—belligerently unhappy.\n\n\n I began to shake and at the same time to assure myself that I didn't\n have anything to worry about, that the precious Accident Prone would\n come out of it alive. After all, Elliot and Sidney were there to\n protect him. They had machine guns, flame-throwers, atomic grenades,\n and some really potent weapons. They could handle the situation. I\n didn't have a thing to worry about.\n\n\n So why couldn't I stop shaking?\n\n\n Maybe it was the way the natives were slowly but deliberately forming a\n circle about Charlie and his bodyguards.\nThe clothing of the Moranites hadn't changed much, I noticed. That was\n understandable. They had a non-mechanical civilization with scattered\n colonies that it would take a terrestrial season to tour by animal cart.\n\n\n An isolated culture like that couldn't change many of its customs.\n Then Charlie shouldn't have any trouble if he stuck to the findings on\n behavior in the report. Naturally, that meant by now he had discovered\n the fatal error.\n\n\n The three men were just standing still, waiting for the aliens to make\n the first move. The natives looked just as worried as Charlie and his\n guards, but then that might have been their natural expression.\n\n\n I jumped a little when the natives all began to talk at once. The\n mixture of sound was fed to me through my translator collar while the\n cybernetic unit back on board the spaceship tried decoding the words.\n It was too much of an overload and, infuriatingly, the sound was cut\n out altogether. I started to rip my collar off when the natives stopped\n screeching and a spokesman stepped forward.\n\n\n The native slumped a little more than the others, as if he were more\n relaxed, and his eyes didn't goggle so much. He said, \"We do not\n understand,\" and the translation came through fine.\n\n\n Baxter swallowed and started forward to meet the alien halfway. His\n boot slipped on the wet scrub grass and I saw him do the desperate\n little dance to regain his balance that I had seen him make so many\n times; he could never stay on his feet.\n\n\n Before he could perform his usual pratfall, Sidney and Elliot were\n at his sides, supporting him by his thin biceps. He glared at them\n and shrugged them off, informing them wordlessly that he would have\n regained his balance if they had given him half a chance.\n\n\n \"We do not understand,\" the native repeated. \"Do you hold us in so much\n contempt as to claim\nall\nof us as your brothers?\"\n\n\n \"All beings are brothers,\" Charlie said. \"We were made blood brothers\n by your people and my people several hundred of your years ago.\"\n\n\n Charlie's words were being translated into the native language, of\n course, but Bronoski's collars and mine switched them back into\n Terrestrial. I've read stories where explorers wearing translators\n couldn't understand each other, but that isn't the way it works. If you\n listen closely, you make out the words in your own language underneath,\n and if you pay very close attention, you can find minor semantic\n differences in the original words and the echo translated back from a\n native language.\n\n\n I was trying to catch both versions from Charlie. I knew he was making\n a mistake and later I wanted to be sure I knew just what it was.\n Frankly, I would have used the blood-brother gambit myself. I had also\n read about it in the survey report, as I made a point of telling you.\n This just proves that Accident Prones haven't secured the franchise on\n mistakes. The difference is that I would have gone about it a lot more\n cautiously.\n\n\n \"Enough of this,\" the native said sharply. \"Do you claim to be\nmy\nbrother?\"\n\n\n \"Sure,\" Charlie said.\n\n\n Dispassionately but automatically, the alien launched himself at the\n Prone's throat.\nCharterson and Von Elderman instantly went into action. Elliot\n Charterson jumped to Charlie's assistance while Sidney Von Elderman\n swung around to protect Charlie from the rest of the crowd.\n\n\n But the defense didn't work.\n\n\n The other aliens didn't try to get to Baxter, but when they saw Elliot\n start to interfere with the two writhing opponents, they clawed him\n down into the grass. Sidney had been set to defend the Prone, not his\n fellow guard. They might have been all right if he had pulled a few\n off Elliot and let him get to work, except his training told him that\n the life of a guard did not matter a twit, but that a Prone must be\n defended. He started toward Charlie Baxter and was immediately pulled\n down by a spare dozen of the mob.\n\n\n It all meant one thing to me. The reaction of the crowd had been\n spontaneous, not planned. That meant that the struggle between Charlie\n and the spokesman was a high order of single combat with which it was\n unholy, indecent and dastardly to interfere.\n\n\n I could fairly hear Bronoski's steel muscles preparing for battle as\n he saw his two mammoth pals go down under the press of numbers. A\n bristle-covered bullet of skull rose out of the grass beside me and it\n was my turn to grind his face in the muck.\n\n\n I had a nice little problem to contend with.\n\n\n I knew the reason Baxter had slipped out at night to be the first to\n greet the aliens. He was determined to be useful and necessary without\n fouling things up. I suppose Charlie had never felt valuable to anyone\n before in his life, but at the same time it hurt him to think that he\n was valuable only because he was a misfit.\n\n\n He had decided to take a positive approach. If he did things right,\n that would be as good proof of conditions as if he made the mistakes he\n was supposed to do. But he couldn't lick that doubt of himself that had\n been ground into him since birth and there he was, in trouble as always.\n\n\n Now maybe Bronoski and I could get him out ourselves by a direct\n approach, but Charlie would probably lose all self-confidence and sink\n down into accepting himself as an Accident Prone, a purely passive\n state.\n\n\n We couldn't have that. We had to have Charlie acting and thinking and\n therefore making mistakes whose bad examples we could profit by.\n\n\n As I lay on my belly thinking, Charlie was putting up a pretty good\n fight with the stringy native. He got in a few good punches, which\n seemed to mystify the native, who apparently knew nothing of boxing.\n Naturally Charlie then began wrestling a trained and deadly wrestler\n instead of continuing to box him.\n\n\n I grabbed Bronoski by his puffy ear and hissed some commands into\n it. He fumbled out a book of matches and lit one for me. By the tiny\n flicker of light, I began tearing apart my lighter.\nI suppose you have played \"tickling the dragon's tail\" when you were a\n kid. I did. I guess all kids have. You know, worrying around two lumps\n of fissionable material and just keeping them from uniting and making\n a critical mass that will result in an explosion or lethal radiation.\n I caught my oldest boy doing it one day back on Earth and gave him a\n good tanning for it. Actually I thought it showed he had a lot of grit.\n Every real boy likes to tickle the dragon's tail.\n\n\n Maybe I was a little old for it, but that's what I was doing there in\n the Moran III jungle.\n\n\n I got the shield off my cigarette lighter and jerked out the dinky\n little damper rods for the pile and started easing the two little\n bricks toward each other with the point of my lead pencil.\n\n\n I heard something that resembled a death rattle come from Charlie's\n throat as the fingers of the alien closed down on it and my hand\n twitched. A blooming light stabbed at my eyes and I flicked the lighter\n away from me.\n\n\n The explosion was a dud.\n\n\n It lit up the jungle for a radius of half a mile like a giant\n flashbulb, but it exploded only about ten times as loud as a pistol\n shot. The mass hadn't been slapped together hard enough or held long\n enough to do any real damage.\n\n\n The natives weren't fools, though. They got out of there fast. I wished\n I could have gone with them. There was undoubtedly an unhealthy amount\n of radiation hanging around.\n\n\n \"Now!\" I told Bronoski.\n\n\n He ran into the clearing and found four bodies sprawled out: Charlie\n Baxter, his two guards and the native spokesman.\n\n\n Charlie and the native were both technically unconscious, but they each\n had a stranglehold on each other, with Charlie getting the worst of it.\n\n\n Bronoski pried the two of them apart.\n\n\n While he roused Sidney and Elliot from their punch-drunk state, I\n examined Charlie. He had a nasty burn on his leg and two toes were\n gone. If there was an explosion anywhere around, he was bound to be in\n front of it.\n\n\n He was abruptly choking and blinking watery eyes.\n\n\n \"You did it, Charlie,\" I lied. \"You beat him fair and square.\"\nCharlie was in bed for the next few days while his grafted toes grew\n on, but he didn't seem to mind.\n\n\n We knew enough not to use the blood-brothers approach after fifty years\n and therefore it did not take us long to find out why we shouldn't.\n\n\n The Moran III culture was isolated in small colonies, but we had\n forgotten that a generation of the intelligent life-forms was only\n three Earth months. It seems a waste at first thought, but all things\n are relative. The Crystopeds of New Lichtenstein, for instance, have a\n life span of twenty thousand Terrestrial years.\n\n\n With so fast a turnover in Moran III individuals, there was bound to be\n a lot of variables introduced, resulting in change.\n\n\n The idea that seemed to be in favor was the survival of the fittest.\n Since the natives were born in litters, with single births extremely\n rare, this concept was practiced from the first. Unless they were\n particularly cunning, the runts of the litter did not survive the first\n year and rarely more than one sibling ever saw adulthood.\n\n\n Obviously, to claim to be a native's brother was to challenge him to a\n test of survival.\n\n\n My men learned to call themselves Last Brother in the usual bragging\n preliminaries that preceded every encounter. We got pretty good results\n with that approach and learned a lot about the changes in customs in\n the half century. But finally one of the men—either Frank Peirmonte or\n Sidney Charterson, who both claim to be the one—thought of calling the\n crew a Family and right away we began hitting it off famously.\n\n\n The Moranites figured we would kill each other off all except maybe\n one, whom they could handle themselves. They still had folk legends\n about the previous visit of Earthmen and they didn't trust us.\n\n\n Charlie Baxter's original mistake had supplied us with the Rosetta\n Stone we needed.\n\n\n Doctor Selby told me Charlie could get up finally, so I went to his\n suite and shook hands with him as he still lay in bed.\n\n\n I waited for the big moment when Charlie would be on his feet again\n and we could get on with the re-survey of the planet.\n\n\n \"Here goes,\" Charlie said and threw back his sheet.\n\n\n He swung his legs around and tottered to his feet. He was a little\n weak, but he took a few steps and seemed to make it okay.\n\n\n Then the inevitable happened. He snagged the edge of one of the Persian\n carpets on the bedroom floor with his big toe and started to fall.\n\n\n Selby and I both dived forward to catch him, but instead of doing the\n arm-waving dance for balance that we were both used to, he seemed to go\n limp and he plopped on the floor like a wet fish.\n\n\n Immediately he jumped to his feet, grinning. \"I finally learned to go\n limp when I take a fall, sir. It took a lot of practice. I imagine I'll\n save some broken bones that way.\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" I said uneasily. \"You have been thinking about this quite a lot\n while you lay there, haven't you, Baxter?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. I see I've been fighting this thing too hard. I am an\n Accident Prone and I might as well accept it. Why not? I seem to always\n muddle through some way, like out there in the jungle, so why should I\n worry or feel\nembarrassed\n?\nI know I can't change\nit.\"\nI was beginning to do some worrying of my own. Things weren't working\n out the way they should. We were supposed to see that Prones kept\n developing a certain amount of doomed self-confidence, but they\n couldn't be allowed to believe they were infallible Prones. A Prone's\n value lies in his active and constructive effort to do the right thing.\n If he merely accepts being a Prone, his accidents gain us nothing. We\n can't profit from mistakes that come about from resignation or laughing\n off blunders or, as in this case, conviction that he never got himself\n into anything he couldn't get himself out of.\n\n\n \"Doctor Selby, would you excuse us?\" I asked.\n\n\n The medic left with a bow and a surly expression. I turned to Baxter,\n rather wishing Selby could have stayed. It was a labor dispute and I\n was used to having a mediator present at bargaining sessions at my\n glassworks. But this was a military, not a civilian, spaceship.\n\n\n \"I have some facts of life to give you, Baxter,\" I told him. \"It\n is your duty to\nactively\nfulfill your position. You have to make\n decisions and plan courses of action. Do you figure on just walking\n around in that jungle until a tree falls on you?\"\n\n\n He sat down on the edge of the bed and examined the pattern in the\n carpet. \"Not exactly, sir. But I get tired of people waiting for me to\n make a fool out of myself. I have a natural talent for—for\nCreative\n Negativism\n. That's it. And I should be able to exercise my talent with\ndignity\n.\"\n\n\n \"If you don't actively fulfill the obligations of a Prone, you aren't\n allowed the luxuries and privileges that go with the position. Do you\n think you would like to be without your armed guards to protect you\n every moment?\"\n\n\n \"I can take care of myself, sir!\"\n\n\n I paused and came up with my best argument. \"How would you like to\n live like an ordinary spaceman, without rare steaks and clean sheets?\n Because if you're not our Accident Prone, you're just another crew\n member, you know.\"\n\n\n That one hurt him, but I saw I had put it to him as a challenge and\n he must have had some guilt feelings about accepting all that luxury\n for being nothing more than he was. \"I could fulfill the duties of an\n ordinary spaceman, sir.\"\n\n\n I snorted. \"It takes skill and training, Baxter. Your papers entitle\n you to one position and one only anywhere—Accident Prone of a\n spaceship complement. If you refuse to do your duties in that post, you\n can only become a ward of the Galaxy.\"\n\n\n His jaw line firmed. He had gone through a lot to keep from taking such\n abject charity. \"Isn't there,\" he asked in a milder tone, \"\nany\nother\n position I could serve in on this ship, sir?\"\n\n\n I studied his face a moment. \"We had to blast off without an Assistant\n Pile Driver, j.g. It keeps getting harder and harder to recruit an APD,\n j.g. I suppose it's those reports about the eventual fatalities due to\n radiation leak back there where they are stationed.\"\n\n\n Baxter looked back at me steadily. \"There are a lot of rumors about the\n high mortality rate among Accident Prones in space, too.\"\nHe was right. We had started the rumors. We wanted the Prones alert,\n active and scheming to stay alive. More beneficial accidents that way.\n Actually, most Prones died of old age in space, which is more than\n could be said of them on Earth, where they didn't have the kind of\n protection the Service gives them.\n\n\n \"Look here, Baxter, do you like your quarters on this ship?\" I demanded.\n\n\n \"You mean this master bedroom, the private heated swimming pool, the\n tennis court, bowling alley and all? Yes, sir, I like it.\"\n\n\n \"The Assistant Pile Driver has a cot near the fuel tanks.\"\n\n\n He gazed off over my left shoulder. \"I had a bed behind the furnace\n back on Earth before the building I was working in burned down.\"\n\n\n \"You wouldn't like this one any better than the one before.\"\n\n\n \"But there I would have some chance of\nadvancement\n. I don't want to\n be stuck in the rank of Accident Prone for life.\"\n\n\n I stared at him in frank amazement. \"Baxter, the only rank getting\n higher pay or more privileges than Prone is Grand Admiral of the\n Services, a position it would take you at least fifty years to reach if\n you had the luck and brains to make it, which you haven't.\"\n\n\n \"I had something more modest in mind, sir. Like being a captain.\"\n\n\n He surely must have known how I lived in comparison to him, so I didn't\n bother to remind him. I said, \"Have you ever seen a case of radiation\n poisoning?\"\n\n\n Baxter's jaw thrust forward. \"It must be pretty bad—but it isn't as\n violent as being eaten by floating fungi or being swallowed in an\n earthquake on some airless satellite.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" I agreed, \"it is much slower than any of those. It is unfortunate\n that we don't carry the necessary supplies to take care of Pile\n Drivers. Most of our medical supplies are in the Accident Prone First\n Aid Kit, for the exclusive use of the Prone. Have you ever taken a good\n look at that?\"\n\n\n Baxter shivered. \"Yes, I've seen it. Several drums of blood, Type AB,\n my type. A half-dozen fresh-frozen assorted arms and legs, several rows\n of eyes, a hundred square feet of graftable skin, and a well-stocked\n tank of inner organs and a double-doored bank of nerve lengths.\n Impressive.\"\nI smiled. \"Sort of gives you a feeling of confidence and security,\n doesn't it? It would be unfortunate for anyone who had a great many\n accidents to be denied the supplies in that Kit, I should think. Of\n course, it is available only to those filling the position of Accident\n Prone and doing the work faithfully and according to orders.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir,\" Charlie mumbled.\n\n\n \"Selby is your personal physician, you realize,\" I drove on. \"He takes\n care of the rest of us only if he has time left over from you. Why,\n when I was having my two weeks in the summer as an Ensign, I had to\n lie for half an hour with a crushed foot while the doctor sprayed our\n Prone's throat to guard against infection. Let me tell you, I was in\n quite a bit of pain.\"\n\n\n Charlie's pale eyes narrowed as if he had just made a sudden discovery,\n perhaps about the relationship between us. \"You don't make as much\n money as I do, do you, sir? You don't have a valet? And your bed folds\n into the bulkhead?\"\n\n\n I thought he was at last beginning to get it. \"Yes,\" I said.\n\n\n He stood sharply to attention. \"Request transfer to position of\n Assistant Pile Driver, j.g., sir.\"\n\n\n I barely halted a groan. He thought I resented him and was deliberately\n holding him down into the miserable overpaid, overfed job that was\n beneath him and the talents that so fitted him for the job.\n\n\n \"Request granted.\"\n\n\n He would learn.\n\n\n He had better.\n\n\n I started to sweat in a gush. He had\nreally\nbetter.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many times did the crew of the expedition leave their spaceship to explore the planet during the course of the story?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_1", "options": ["Twice", "Once", "They did not actually ever leave the ship", "Thrice"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Charlie and the captain?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_2", "options": ["They have a mutual respect for one another", "Charlie wishes to train under the captain to one day be one himself", "The captain would do anything to get Charlie out of his role", "The captain is highly attentive to Charlie, but does not accept any deviations to his role"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was the approach that Charlie took to engage with the aliens unsuccessful?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_3", "options": ["The aliens killed their siblings and so to claim to be a brotherhood was perverse", "Charlie forgot the knowledge in the report to refer to the aliens as brothers", "The aliens couldn’t understand the language that Charlie was speaking", "The aliens believed there was a blood relation between them and the people from Earth"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the relationship like between Eliott, Sidney and Charlie?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_4", "options": ["Sidney and Charlie were bound to protect Eliott’s life over their own", "Sidney and Eliott were the captain’s guards who remained unfaithful to Charlie", "Eliott was the medical doctor assigned to Charlie, Sidney was Charlie’s only guard", "Eliott and Sidney were bound to protect Charlie’s life over their own"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What thesis does Charlie present to the Moranites?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_5", "options": ["The Moranites could extend their life span if they cooperated for the exploration", "He is related to them by distant relative\n", "They have the opportunity to advance into a technological age with some of the equipment he has", "They are stranded Earthlings\n"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who lives on the planet being explored?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_6", "options": ["Human-like aliens that camouflage as trees in the jungle", "Aliens of half lizard half human composition", "Human-like aliens", "Earth people colonized the planet and started their own way of life"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the status of Charlie on the ship?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_7", "options": ["He is treated as the most important person on the mission", "He is critical to making the engines work", "He is cast aside and begrudged by the captain and crew", "He goes largely unnoticed and exits the ship first to test for danger"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Bronoski and the captain?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_8", "options": ["The captain had a falling out with Bronoski and now is trying to amend it", "Bronoski is generally loyal and courteous to the captain", "The captain can’t understand why Bronoski wants to be reassigned", "Bronoski is training to be the emergency pilot of the mission"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the classification most highly paid in the ship?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_9", "options": ["Medical Doctor", "Prone", "Guard", "Captain"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was Charlie’s assessment of his role through the story?", "question_unique_id": "51320_DIEFXLAR_10", "options": ["He thought he would never do any better than the position he was offered", "He felt very valuable and protected by the captain and crew", "He was eager to improve and he accepted of his faults, which led him to vacate his role", "He really wanted to please to join future expeditions and was ready to do anything to prove his worth"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/2/51320//51320-h//51320-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "51395", "set_unique_id": "51395_9PYVRG7M", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Survival Type", "year": 1961, "author": "Bone, Jesse F. (Jesse Franklin)", "topic": "PS; Extrasolar planets -- Fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "SURVIVAL TYPE\nBy J. F. BONE\n\n\n Illustrated by KIRBERGER\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction March 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nScore one or one million was not enough for\n \nthe human race. It had to be all or nothing ...\n \nwith one man doing every bit of scoring!\nArthur Lanceford slapped futilely at the sith buzzing hungrily around\n his head. The outsized eight-legged parody of a mosquito did a neat\n half roll and zoomed out of range, hanging motionless on vibrating\n wings a few feet away.\nA raindrop staggered it momentarily, and for a fleeting second,\n Lanceford had the insane hope that the arthropod would fall out of\n control into the mud. If it did, that would be the end of it, for\n Niobian mud was as sticky as flypaper. But the sith righted itself\n inches short of disaster, buzzed angrily and retreated to the shelter\n of a nearby broadleaf, where it executed another half roll and hung\n upside down, watching its intended meal with avid anticipation.\n\n\n Lanceford eyed the insect distastefully as he explored his jacket for\n repellent and applied the smelly stuff liberally to his face and neck.\n It wouldn't do much good. In an hour, his sweat would remove whatever\n the rain missed—but for that time, it should discourage the sith. As\n far as permanent discouraging went, the repellent was useless. Once\n one of those eight-legged horrors checked you off, there were only two\n possible endings to the affair—either you were bitten or you killed\n the critter.\n\n\n It was as simple as that.\n\n\n He had hoped that he would be fast enough to get the sith before it got\n him. He had been bitten once already and the memory of those paralyzed\n three minutes while the bloodsucker fed was enough to last him for\n a lifetime. He readjusted his helmet, tucking its fringe of netting\n beneath his collar. The netting, he reflected gloomily, was like its\n owner—much the worse for wear. However, this trek would be over in\n another week and he would be able to spend the next six months at a\n comfortable desk job at the Base, while some other poor devil did the\n chores of field work.\nHe looked down the rain-swept trail winding through the jungle.\n Niobe—a perfect name for this wet little world. The Bureau of\n Extraterrestrial Exploration couldn't have picked a better, but the\n funny thing about it was that they hadn't picked it in the first place.\n Niobe was the native word for Earth, or perhaps \"the world\" would be\n a more accurate definition. It was a coincidence, of course, but the\n planet and its mythological Greek namesake had much in common.\n\n\n Niobe, like Niobe, was all tears—a world of rain falling endlessly\n from an impenetrable overcast, fat wet drops that formed a grieving\n background sound that never ceased, sobbing with soft mournful noises\n on the rubbery broadleaves, crying with obese splashes into forest\n pools, blubbering with loud, dismal persistence on the sounding\n board of his helmet. And on the ground, the raindrops mixed with the\n loesslike soil of the trail to form a gluey mud that clung in huge\n pasty balls to his boots.\n\n\n Everywhere there was water, running in rivulets of tear-streaks down\n the round cheeks of the gently sloping land—rivulets that merged and\n blended into broad shallow rivers that wound their mourners' courses\n to the sea. Trekking on Niobe was an amphibious operation unless\n one stayed in the highlands—a perpetual series of fords and river\n crossings.\n\n\n And it was hot, a seasonless, unchanging, humid heat that made a\n protection suit an instrument of torture that slowly boiled its wearer\n in his own sweat. But the suit was necessary, for exposed human flesh\n was irresistible temptation to Niobe's bloodsucking insects. Many of\n these were no worse than those of Earth, but a half dozen species were\n deadly. The first bite sensitized. The second killed—anaphylactic\n shock, the medics called it. And the sith was one of the deadly species.\n\n\n Lanceford shrugged fatalistically. Uncomfortable as a protection suit\n was, it was better to boil in it than die without it.\n\n\n He looked at Kron squatting beside the trail and envied him. It was\n too bad that Earthmen weren't as naturally repellent to insects as\n the dominant native life. Like all Niobians, the native guide wore no\n clothing—ideal garb for a climate like this. His white, hairless hide,\n with its faint sheen of oil, was beautifully water-repellent.\n\n\n Kron, Lanceford reflected, was a good example of the manner in which\n Nature adapts the humanoid form for survival on different worlds.\n Like the dominant species on every intelligent planet in the explored\n galaxy, he was an erect, bipedal, mammalian being with hands that\n possessed an opposable thumb. Insofar as that general description went,\n Kron resembled humanity—but there were differences.\nSquatting, the peculiar shape of Kron's torso and the odd flexibility\n of his limbs were not apparent. One had the tendency to overlook the\n narrow-shouldered, cylindrical body and the elongated tarsal and carpal\n bones that gave his limbs four major articulations rather than the\n human three, and to concentrate upon the utterly alien head.\n\n\n It jutted forward from his short, thick neck, a long-snouted, vaguely\n doglike head with tiny ears lying close against the hairless,\n dome-shaped cranium. Slitlike nostrils, equipped with sphincter\n muscles like those of a terrestrial seal, argued an originally aquatic\n environment, and the large intelligent eyes set forward in the skull to\n give binocular vision, together with the sharp white carnassial teeth\n and pointed canines, indicated a carnivorous ancestry. But the modern\n Niobians, although excellent swimmers, were land dwellers and ate\n anything.\n\n\n Lanceford couldn't repress an involuntary shudder at some of the\n things they apparently enjoyed. Tastes differed—enormously so between\n Earthmen and Niobians.\n\n\n There was no doubt that the native was intelligent, yet he, like the\n rest of his race, was a technological moron. It was strange that a race\n which had a well-developed philosophy and an amazing comprehension of\n semantics could be so backward in mechanics. Even the simpler of the\n BEE's mechanisms left the natives confused. It was possible that they\n could learn about machinery, but Lanceford was certain that it would\n take a good many years before the first native mechanic would set up a\n machine shop on this planet.\n\n\n Lanceford finished tucking the last fold of face net under his collar,\n and as he did so, Kron stood up, rising to his five-foot height\n with a curious flexible grace. Standing, he looked something like a\n double-jointed alabaster Anubis—wearing swim fins. His broad, webbed\n feet rested easily on the surface of the mud, their large area giving\n him flotation that Lanceford envied. As a result, his head was nearly\n level with that of the human, although there was better than a foot\n difference in their heights.\n\n\n Lanceford looked at Kron inquiringly. \"You have a place in mind where\n we can sleep tonight?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, Boss. We'll be coming to hunthouse soon. We go now?\"\n\n\n \"Lead on,\" Lanceford said, groaning silently to himself—another\n hunthouse with its darkness and its smells. He shrugged. He could\n hardly expect anything else up here in the highlands. Oh, well, he'd\n managed to last through the others and this one could be no worse. At\n that, even an airless room full of natives was preferable to spending\n a night outside. And the sith wouldn't follow them. It didn't like\n airless rooms filled with natives.\n\n\n He sighed wearily as he followed Kron along the dim path through the\n broadleaf jungle. Night was coming, and with darkness, someone upstairs\n turned on every faucet and the sheets of rain that fell during the day\n changed abruptly into a deluge. Even the semi-aquatic natives didn't\n like to get caught away from shelter during the night.\n\n\n The three moved onward, immersed in a drumming wilderness of rain—the\n Niobian sliding easily over the surface of the mud, the Earthman\n plowing painfully through it, and the sith flitting from the shelter of\n one broadleaf to the next, waiting for a chance to feed.\nThe trail widened abruptly, opening upon one of the small clearings\n that dotted the rain-forest jungle. In the center of the clearing,\n dimly visible through the rain and thickening darkness, loomed the\n squat thatch-roofed bulk of a hunthouse, a place of shelter for the\n members of the hunters' guild who provided fresh meat for the Niobian\n villages. Lanceford sighed a mingled breath of relief and unpleasant\n anticipation.\n\n\n As he stepped out into the clearing, the sith darted from cover,\n heading like a winged bullet for Lanceford's neck. But the man was\n not taken by surprise. Pivoting quickly, he caught the iridescent\n blur of the bloodsucker's wings. He swung his arm in a mighty slap.\n The high-pitched buzz and Lanceford's gloved hand met simultaneously\n at his right ear. The buzz stopped abruptly. Lanceford shook his head\n and the sith fell to the ground, satisfactorily swatted. Lanceford\n grinned—score one for the human race.\n\n\n He was still grinning as he pushed aside the fiber screen closing the\n low doorway of the hunthouse and crawled inside. It took a moment for\n his eyes to become accustomed to the gloom within, but his nose told\n him even before his eyes that the house was occupied. The natives, he\n thought wryly, must be born with no sense of smell, otherwise they'd\n perish from sheer propinquity. One could never honestly say that\n familiarity with the odor of a Niobian bred contempt—nausea was the\n right word.\n\n\n The interior was typical, a dark rectangle of windowless limestone\n walls enclosing a packed-dirt floor and lined with a single deck of\n wooden sleeping platforms. Steeply angled rafters of peeled logs\n intersected at a knife-sharp ridge pierced with a circular smokehole\n above the firepit in the center of the room. Transverse rows of\n smaller poles lashed to the rafters supported the thick broadleaf\n thatch that furnished protection from the rain and sanctuary for\n uncounted thousands of insects.\n\n\n A fire flickered ruddily in the pit, hissing as occasional drops of\n rain fell into its heart from the smokehole, giving forth a dim light\n together with clouds of smoke and steam that rose upward through\n the tangled mass of greasy cobwebs filling the upper reaches of the\n rafters. Some of the smoke found its way through the smokehole, but\n most of it hung in an acrid undulating layer some six feet above the\n floor.\n\n\n The glow outlined the squatting figures of a dozen or so natives\n clustered around the pit, watching the slowly rotating carcass of a\n small deerlike rodent called a sorat, which was broiling on a spit\n above the flames. Kron was already in the ring, talking earnestly to\n one of the hunters—a fellow-tribesman, judging from the tattoo on his\n chest.\n\n\n To a Niobian, the scene was ordinary, but to Lanceford it could have\n been lifted bodily from the inferno. He had seen it before, but the\n effect lost nothing by repetition. There was a distinctly hellish\n quality to it—to the reds and blacks of the flickering fire and the\n shadows. He wouldn't have been particularly surprised if Satan himself\n appeared in the center of the firepit complete with horns, hoofs and\n tail. A hunthouse, despite its innocuousness, looked like the southeast\n corner of Hades.\nClustered around the fire, the hunters turned to look at him curiously\n and, after a single eye-filling stare, turned back again. Niobians\n were almost painfully polite. Although Earthmen were still enough of a\n curiosity to draw attention, one searching look was all their customs\n allowed. Thereafter, they minded their own business. In some ways,\n Lanceford reflected, native customs had undeniable merit.\n\n\n Presently Kron rose from his place beside the fire and pointed out two\n empty sleeping platforms where they would spend the night. Lanceford\n chose one and sank wearily to its resilient surface. Despite its crude\n construction, a Niobian sleeping platform was comfortable. He removed\n his pack, pulled off his mud-encrusted boots and lay back with a grunt\n of relaxation. After a day like this, it was good to get off his feet.\n Weariness flowed over him.\n\n\n He awoke to the gentle pressure of Kron's hand squeezing his own. \"The\n food is cooked,\" the Niobian said, \"and you are welcomed to share it.\"\n\n\n Lanceford nodded, his stomach crawling with unpleasant anticipation.\n A native meal was something he would prefer to avoid. His digestive\n system could handle the unsavory mess, but his taste buds shrank from\n the forthcoming assault. What the natives classed as a delicate and\n elusive flavor was sheer torture to an Earthman.\n\n\n Possibly there was some connection between their inefficient olfactory\n apparatus and their odd ideas of flavor, but whatever the physical\n explanation might be, it didn't affect the fact that eating native\n food was an ordeal. Yet he couldn't refuse. That would be discourteous\n and offensive, and one simply didn't offend the natives. The BEE was\n explicit about that. Courtesy was a watchword on Niobe.\n\n\n He took a place by the fire, watching with concealed distaste as one\n of the hunters reached into the boiling vat beside the firepit with a\n pair of wooden tongs and drew forth the native conception of a hors\n d'oeuvre. They called it vorkum—a boiled sorat paunch stuffed with a\n number of odorous ingredients. It looked almost as bad as it smelled.\n\n\n The hunter laid the paunch on a wooden trencher, scraped the greenish\n scum from its surface and sliced it open. The odor poured out, a\n gagging essence of decaying vegetables, rotten eggs and overripe\n cheese.\n\n\n Lanceford's eyes watered, his stomach tautened convulsively, but the\n Niobians eyed the reeking semi-solid eagerly. No meal on Niobe was\n considered worthy of the name unless a generous helping of vorkum\n started it off.\nAn entree like that could ruin the most rugged human appetite, but\n when it was the forerunner of a main dish of highly spiced barbecue,\n vorkum assumed the general properties of an emetic. Lanceford grimly\n controlled the nausea and tactfully declined the greasy handful which\n Kron offered. The Niobian never seemed to learn. At every meal they had\n eaten during their past month of travel on Niobe, Kron had persistently\n offered him samples of the mess. With equal persistence, he had\n refused. After all, there were limits.\nBut polite convention required that he eat something, so he took a\n small portion of the barbecued meat and dutifully finished it. The\n hunters eyed him curiously, apparently wondering how an entity who\n could assimilate relatively untasty sorat should refuse the far greater\n delicacy of vorkum. But it was a known fact that the ways of Earthmen\n were strange and unaccountable.\n\n\n The hunters didn't protest when he retired to his sleeping platform and\n the more acceptable concentrates from his pack. His hunger satisfied,\n he lay back on the resilient vines and fell into a sleep of exhaustion.\n It had been a hard day.\n\n\n Lanceford's dreams were unpleasant. Nightmare was the usual penalty of\n sitting in on a Niobian meal and this one was worse than usual. Huge\n siths, reeking of vorkum, pursued him as he ran naked and defenseless\n across a swampy landscape that stretched interminably ahead. The\n clinging mud reduced his speed to a painful crawl as he frantically\n beat off the attacks of the blood-suckers.\n\n\n The climax was horror. One of the siths slipped through his frantically\n beating hands and bit him on the face. The shocking pain of the bite\n wakened him, a cry of terror and anguish still on his lips.\n\n\n He looked around wildly. He was still in the hunthouse. It was just a\n dream.\n\n\n He chuckled shakily. These nightmares sometimes were too real for\n comfort. He was drenched with sweat, which was not unusual, but there\n was a dull ache in his head and the hot tense pain that encompassed the\n right side of his face had not been there when he had fallen asleep.\n\n\n He touched his face with a tentative finger, exploring the hot\n puffiness and the enormously swollen ear with a gentle touch. It was\n where he had struck the sith, but surely he couldn't have hit that hard.\n\n\n He gasped, a soft breath of dismay, as realization dawned. He had\n smashed the sith hard enough to squeeze some of the insect's corrosive\n body juices through his face net—and they had touched his skin! That\n wouldn't normally have been bad, but the sith bite he had suffered\n a week ago had sensitized him. He was developing an anaphylactic\n reaction—a severe one, judging from the swelling.\n\n\n That was the trouble with exploration; one occasionally forgot that a\n world was alien. Occasionally danger tended to recede into a background\n of familiarity—he had smashed the sith before it had bitten him, so\n therefore it couldn't hurt him. He grimaced painfully, the movement\n bringing another twinge to his swollen face. He should have known\n better.\n\n\n He swore mildly as he opened his Aid Kit and extracted a sterile hypo.\n The super-antihistamine developed by the Bureau was an unpredictable\n sort of thing. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn't. He removed\n the screw cap that sealed the needle and injected the contents of the\n syringe into his arm. He hoped that this was one of the times the drug\n worked. If it wasn't, he reflected grimly, he wouldn't be long for this\n world.\n\n\n He sighed and lay back. There wasn't anything more to do now. All he\n could do was wait and see if the anti-allergen worked.\nThe Bureau of Extraterrestrial Exploration had discovered Niobe barely\n three years ago, yet already the planet was famous not only for its\n peculiar climate, but also for the number of men who had died upon its\n watery surface. Knowledge of this planet was bought with life, grim\n payment to decrease the lag between discovery and the day men could\n live and work on Niobe without having to hide beneath domes or behind\n protection suits. Lanceford never questioned the necessity or the\n inevitable price that must be paid. Like every other BEE agent, he knew\n that Niobe was crash priority—a world that\nhad\nto be understood in\n minimum time.\n\n\n For Niobe was a made to order herbarium for a swampland plant called\n viscaya. The plant was originally native to Algon IV, but had been\n spread to practically every suitable growth center in the Galaxy.\n It was the source of a complex of alkaloids known as gerontin, and\n gerontin had the property of tripling or quadrupling the normal life\n span of mammals.\n\n\n It was obvious that viscayaculture should have a tremendous\n distribution throughout the Confederation worlds. But unfortunately the\n right conditions existed in very few places in the explored galaxy.\n Despite the fact that most life is based on carbon, oxygen and water,\n there is still very little free water in the Galaxy. Most planets of\n the Confederation are semi-arid, with the outstanding exceptions of\n Terra and Lyrane. But these two worlds were the seats of human and\n humanoid power for so long that all of their swampland had been drained\n and reclaimed centuries ago.\n\n\n And it was doubly unfortunate that gerontin so far defied synthesis.\n According to some eminent chemists, the alkaloid would probably\n continue to do so until some facet of the Confederation reached a Class\n VIII culture level. Considering that Terra and Lyrane, the two highest\n cultures, were only Class VII, and that Class level steps took several\n thousands of years to make, a policy of waiting for synthesis was not\n worth considering.\n\n\n The result was that nobody was happy until Niobe was discovered.\n The price of illicit gerontin was astronomical and most of the\n Confederation's supply of the drug was strictly rationed to those whom\n the government thought most valuable to the Confederation as a whole.\n Of course, the Confederation officialdom was included, which caused\n considerable grumbling. In the nick of time, Niobe appeared upon the\n scene, and Niobe had environment in abundance!\n\n\n The wheels of the Confederation began to turn. The BEE was given a\n blank check and spurred on by a government which, in turn, was being\n spurred on by the people who composed it. The exploration of Niobe\n proceeded at all possible speed. With so many considerations weighed\n against them, what did a few lives matter? For the sake of the billions\n of humanoids in the Confederation, their sacrifice was worthwhile\n even if only a few days or hours were saved between discovery and\n exploitation.\nLanceford groaned as a violent pain shot through his head. The\n anti-allergin apparently wasn't going to work, for it should have had\n some effect by now. He shrugged mentally—it was the chance one took in\n this business. But he couldn't say that he hadn't been warned. Even old\n Sims had told him, called him a unit in the BEE's shortcut trial and\n error scheme—an error, it looked like now.\n\n\n Seemed rather silly—a Class VII civilization using techniques that\n were old during the Dark Ages before the Atomic Revolution, sending\n foot parties to explore a world in the chance that they might discover\n something that the search mechs missed—anything that would shorten the\n lag time. It was incomprehensible, but neither Sims nor the BEE would\n do a thing like this without reason. And whatever it was, he wasn't\n going to worry about it. In fact, there wasn't much time left to worry.\n The reaction was observably and painfully worse.\n\n\n It was important that the news of his death and the specimens he had\n collected get back to Base Alpha. They might have value in this complex\n game Alvord Sims was playing with men, machines and Niobe. But Base\n Alpha was a good hundred miles away and, in his present condition, he\n couldn't walk a hundred feet.\n\n\n For a moment, he considered setting up the powerful little transmitter\n he carried in his pack, but his first abortive motion convinced him it\n was useless. The blinding agony that swept through him at the slightest\n movement left no doubt that he would never finish the business of\n setting up the antenna, let alone send a message.\n\n\n It was a crime that handie-talkies couldn't be used here on Niobe, but\n their range, limited at best, was practically nonexistent on a planet\n that literally seemed to be one entire \"dead spot.\" A fixed-frequency\n job broadcasting on a directional beam was about the only thing that\n could cover distance, and that required a little technical know-how to\n set up the antenna and focus it on Base Alpha. There would be no help\n from Kron. Despite his intelligence, the native could no more assemble\n a directional antenna than spread pink wings and fly.\n\n\n There was only one thing to do—get a note off to Sims, if he could\n still write, and ask Kron to deliver the note and his pack to the Base.\n\n\n He fumbled with his jacket, and with some pain produced a stylus and a\n pad. But it was difficult to write. Painful, too. Better get Kron over\n here while he could still talk and tell him what he wanted.\n\n\n The stylus slipped from numb fingers as Lanceford called hoarsely,\n \"Kron! Come here! I need you!\"\nKron looked down compassionately at the swollen features of the\n Earthman. He had seen the kef effect before, among the young of his\n people who were incautious or inexperienced, but he had never seen it\n among the aliens. Surprisingly, the effects were the same—the livid\n swellings, the gasping breath, the pain. Strange how these foreigners\n reacted like his own people.\n\n\n He scratched his head and pulled thoughtfully at one of his short ears.\n It was his duty to help Lanceford, but how could he? The Earthman\n had denied his help for weeks, and Niobians simply didn't disregard\n another's wishes. Kron scowled, the action lending a ferocious cast to\n his doglike face. Tolerance was a custom hallowed by ages of practice.\n It went to extremes—even with life at stake, a person's wishes and\n beliefs must be respected.\n\n\n Kron buried his long-snouted head in his hands, a gesture that held in\n it all the frustration which filled him.\n\n\n The human was apparently resolved to die. He had told Kron his last\n wishes, which didn't include a request for help, but merely to get\n his pack back to the others in their glass dome. It was astonishing\n that such an obviously intelligent species should have so little\n flexibility. They didn't understand the first principles of adaptation.\n Always and forever, they held to their own ways, trying with insensate\n stubbornness to mold nature to their will—and when nature overcome\n their artificial defenses, they died, stubborn, unregenerate,\n inflexible to the end. They were odd, these humans—odd and a little\n frightening.\n\n\n Lanceford breathed wheezily. The swelling had invaded the inner\n tissues of his throat and was beginning to compress his windpipe. It\n was uncomfortable, like inhaling liquid fire, and then there was the\n constant desire to cough and the physical inability to do so.\n\n\n \"Dirty luck,\" he whispered. \"Only a week more and I'd have had it\n made—the longest trek a man's made on this benighted planet.\"\n\n\n Kron nodded, but then belatedly realized that the human was muttering\n to himself. He listened. There might be something important in these\n dying murmurings, something that might explain their reasons for being\n here and their strange driving haste that cared nothing for life.\n\n\n \"It's hard to die so far from one's people, but I guess that can't be\n helped. Old Sims gave me the score. Like he said, a man doesn't have\n much choice of where he dies in the BEE.\"\n\n\n \"You don't want to die!\" Kron exploded.\n\n\n \"Of course not,\" Lanceford said with weak surprise. He hadn't dreamed\n that Kron was nearby. This might well destroy the Imperturbable\n Earthman myth that the BEE had fostered.\n\n\n \"Not even if it is in accord with your customs and rituals?\"\n\n\n \"What customs?\"\n\n\n \"Your clothing, your eating habits, your ointments—are these not part\n of your living plan?\"\n\n\n Despite the pain that tore at his throat, Lanceford managed a chuckle.\n This was ridiculous. \"Hell, no! Our only design for living is to stay\n alive, particularly on jobs like this one. We don't wear these suits\n and repellent because we\nlike\nto. We do it to stay alive. If we\n could, we'd go around nearly as naked as you do.\"\n\n\n \"Do you mind if I help you?\" Kron asked diffidently. \"I think I can\n cure you.\" He leaned forward anxiously to get the man's reply.\n\n\n \"I'd take a helping hand from the devil himself, if it would do any\n good.\"\n\n\n Kron's eyes were brilliant. He hummed softly under his breath, the\n Niobian equivalent of laughter. \"And all the time we thought—\" he\n began, and then broke off abruptly. Already too much time was wasted\n without losing any more in meditating upon the ironies of life.\n\n\n He turned toward the firepit, searched for a moment among the stones,\n nodded with satisfaction and returned to where Lanceford lay. The\n hunthouse was deserted save for himself and the Earthman. With\n characteristic Niobian delicacy, the hunters had left, preferring to\n endure the night rain than be present when the alien died. Kron was\n thankful that they were gone, for what he was about to do would shock\n their conservative souls.\nLanceford was dimly conscious of Kron prying his swollen jaws apart\n and forcing something wet and slippery down his throat. He swallowed,\n the act a tearing pain to the edematous membranes of his gullet, but\n the stuff slid down, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The act\n triggered another wave of pain that left him weak and gasping. He\n couldn't take much more of this. It wouldn't be long now before the\n swelling invaded his lungs to such a degree that he would strangle. It\n wasn't a pleasant way to die.\n\n\n And then, quite suddenly, the pain eased. A creeping numbness spread\n like a warm black blanket over his outraged nervous system. The stuff\n Kron had given him apparently had some anesthetic properties. He felt\n dimly grateful, even though the primitive native nostrum would probably\n do no good other than to ease the pain.\n\n\n The blackness went just far enough to paralyze the superficial areas of\n his nervous system. It stopped the pain and left him unable to move,\n but the deeper pathways of thought and reason remained untouched. He\n was conscious, although no external sensation intruded on his thoughts.\n He couldn't see Kron—the muscles that moved his eyes were as paralyzed\n as the other muscles of his body and the native was outside his field\n of vision—but somehow he knew exactly what the Niobian was doing. He\n was washing mucus from his hands in a bowl of water standing beside the\n fire pit\nand he was wondering wryly whether forced feeding was on the\n list of human tabus\n!\n\n\n Lanceford's mind froze, locked in a peculiar contact that was more\n than awareness. The sensation was indescribable. It was like looking\n through an open door into the living room of a stranger's house.\n\n\n He was aware of the incredible complexity and richness of Kron's\n thoughts, of oddly sardonic laughter, of pity and regret that such a\n little thing as understanding should cause death and suffering through\n its lack, of bewildered admiration for the grim persistence of the\n alien Earthmen, mixed with a wondering curiosity about what kept them\n here—what the true reasons were for their death-defying persistence\n and stubbornness—of an ironic native paraphrase for the Terran saying,\n \"Every man to his own taste,\" and a profound speculation upon what\n fruits might occur from true understanding between his own race and the\n aliens.\n\n\n It was a strangely jumbled kaleidoscopic flash that burned across the\n explorer's isolated mind, a flash that passed almost as soon as it had\n come, as though an invisible door had closed upon it.\n\n\n But one thing in that briefly shocking contact stood out with great\n clarity. The Niobians were as eager as the BEE to establish a true\n contact, a true understanding, for the message was there, plain\n in Kron's mind that he was thinking not only for himself but for\n a consensus of his people, a decision arrived at as a result of\n discussion and thought—a decision of which every Niobian was aware and\n with which most Niobians agreed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How did the planet of Niobe compare to others that Earth was exploring?", "question_unique_id": "51395_9PYVRG7M_1", "options": ["It was be explored as a courtesy to see what could be done to help their planet from spinning into their sun", "It was one of the least interesting to Earth, but was a personal mission for the narrator", "It was one of several planets being considered for colonization", "It was one of the most interesting"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Lanceford’s best chance for survival?", "question_unique_id": "51395_9PYVRG7M_2", "options": ["He knows he can not survive after he is in anaphylactic shock", "Sending a radio signal to the Base", "Asking for help", "Setting up the satellite messenger service antenna"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How much time passes over the course of the story?", "question_unique_id": "51395_9PYVRG7M_3", "options": ["About a day", "About a year", "About a week", "About a month"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Kron’s attitude?", "question_unique_id": "51395_9PYVRG7M_4", "options": ["Acting that the explorers should pay him respect for feeding and housing them", "Distaste for the explorers and no desire to help them beyond his duties", "Profound respect for the wishes of Earth explorers", "Curiosity about explorers, but no knowledge to help them"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Earth exploring Niobe?", "question_unique_id": "51395_9PYVRG7M_5", "options": ["Geological interest", "Surveying for immediate colonization", "Botanical interest", "Anthropological study of the Niobians"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do the hunters treat the narrator?", "question_unique_id": "51395_9PYVRG7M_6", "options": ["They are cautiously accepting of his presence", "They wish to learn from him", "They are tolerant but disgusted", "They are openly friendly and inviting"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the narrator’s relationship with the sith?", "question_unique_id": "51395_9PYVRG7M_7", "options": ["He greatly feared the sith", "The sith avoided the narrator", "He felt superior to the sith", "He was tasked with studying the sith"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the narrator’s assessment of the life on Niobe compared to the humans of Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51395_9PYVRG7M_8", "options": ["They were less able to grasp technical knowledge, but looked like humans of Earth in every other way", "They were remarkably similar in intelligence and form", "They were simple and unlikely to survive for long", "They had a form different than humans that was extremely well adapted to their environment"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/9/51395//51395-h//51395-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51436", "set_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Bullet with His Name", "year": 1972, "author": "Leiber, Fritz", "topic": "PS; Chicago (Ill.) -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "Bullet With His Name\nBy FRITZ LEIBER\n\n\n Illustrated By: DILLON\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction July 1958.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nBefore passing judgment, just ask yourself\n \none question: Would you like answering for\n \nhumanity any better than Ernie Meeker did?\nThe Invisible Being shifted his anchorage a bit in Earth's\n gravitational field, which felt like a push rather than a pull to him,\n and said, \"This featherless biped seems to satisfy Galaxy Center's\n requirements. I'd say he's a suitable recipient for the Gifts.\"\n\n\n His Coadjutor, equally invisible and negatively massed, chewed that\n over. \"Mature by his length and mass. Artificial plumage neither\n overly gaudy nor utterly drab—indicating median social level,\n which is confirmed by the size of his bachelor nest. Inward maps of\n his environment not fantastically inaccurate. Feelings reasonably\n meshed—at least neither volcanic nor frozen. Thoughts and values in\n reasonable order. Yes, I agree, a satisfactory test subject. Except....\"\n\n\n \"Except what?\"\n\n\n \"Except we can never be sure of that 'reasonable' part.\"\n\n\n \"Of course not! Thank your stars\nthat's\nbeyond the reach of Galaxy\n Center's keenest telepathy, or even ours on the spot. Otherwise you and\n I'd be out of a job.\"\n\n\n \"And have to scheme up some other excuse for free-touring the Cosmos\n with backtracking permitted.\"\n\n\n \"Exactly!\" The Being and his Coadjutor understood each other very well\n and were the best of friends. \"Well, how many Gifts would you suggest\n for the test?\"\n\n\n \"How about two Little and one Big?\" the Coadjutor ventured.\n\n\n \"Umm ... statistically adequate but spiritually unsatisfying. Remember,\n the fate of his race hangs on his reactions to them. I'd be inclined to\n increase your suggestion by one each and add a Great.\"\n\n\n \"No—at least I question the last. After all, the Great Gifts aren't as\n important, really, as the Big Gifts. Besides....\"\n\n\n \"Besides what? Come on, spit it out!\" The Invisible Being was the\n bluff, blunt type.\n\n\n \"Well,\" said his less hearty but unswervingly honest companion, \"I'm\n always afraid that you'll use the granting of a Great Gift as an excuse\n for some sardonic trick—that you'll put a sting in its tail.\"\n\n\n \"And why shouldn't I, if I want to? Snakes have stings in their tails\n (or do they on this planet?) and I'm a sort of snake. If he fails the\n test, he fails. And aren't both of us malicious, plaguing spirits,\n eager to knock holes in the inward armor of provincial entities? It's\n in the nature of our job. But we can argue about that in due course.\n What Little Gifts would you suggest?\"\n\n\n \"That's something I want to talk about. Many of the Little Gifts are\n already well within his race's reach, if not his. After all, they've\n already got atomic power.\"\n\n\n \"Which as you very well know scores them nothing one way or the other\n on a Galaxy Center test. We're agreed on the nature and the number of\n our Gifts—three Little, two Big, and one Great?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" his Coadjutor responded resignedly.\n\n\n \"And we're agreed on our subject?\"\n\n\n \"Yes to that too.\"\n\n\n \"All right, then, let's get started. This isn't the only solar system\n we have to visit on this circuit.\"\nErnie Meeker—of Chicago, Illinois, U.S. of A., Occident, Terra, Sol,\n Starswarm 37, Rim Sector, Milky Way Galaxy—rubbed his chin and slanted\n across the street to a drugstore.\n\n\n \"Package of blades. Double edge. Five. Cheapest.\"\n\n\n At one point during the transaction, the clerk lost sight of the tiny\n packet he'd placed on the coin-whitened glass between them. He gave a\n suspicious look, as if the customer had palmed them.\n\n\n Ernie blinked. After a moment, he pointed toward the center of the\n counter.\n\n\n \"There they are,\" he said, dropping a coin beside them.\n\n\n The clerk's face didn't get any less suspicious. Customer who could\n sneak something without your seeing could sneak it back the same way.\n He rang up the sale and closed the register fast.\n\n\n Ernie Meeker went home and shaved. Five days—and shaves—later, he\n pushed the first blade, uncomfortably dull now, through the tiny slot\n beside the bathroom mirror. He unwrapped the second blade from the\n packet.\n\n\n Five shaves later, he cut himself under the chin with the second blade,\n although he was drawing it as gently through his soaped beard as if it\n were only his second shave with it, or at most his third. He looked at\n it sourly and checked the packet. Wouldn't have been the first time\n he'd absentmindedly changed blades ahead of schedule.\n\n\n But there were still three blades in their waxed wrappings.\n\n\n Maybe, he thought, he'd still had one of the blades from the last\n packet and shuffled it into this series.\n\n\n Or maybe—although the manufacturers undoubtedly had inspectors to\n prevent it from happening—he'd got a decent blade for once.\n\n\n Two or three shaves later, it still seemed as sharp as ever, or almost\n so.\n\n\n \"Funny thing,\" he remarked to Bill at lunch, \"sometimes you get a blade\n that shaves a lot better. Looks exactly like the others, but shaves\n better. Or worse sometimes, of course.\"\n\n\n \"And sometimes,\" his office mate said, \"you wear out a blade fast by\n not soaking your beard enough. For me, one shave with a stiff beard and\n the blade's through. On the other hand, if you're careful to soak your\n beard real good—four, five minutes at least—have the water steaming\n hot, get the soap really into it, one blade can last a long time.\"\n\n\n \"That's true, all right,\" Ernie agreed, trying to remember how well he\n had been soaking his beard lately. Shaving was a good topic for light\n conversation, warm and agreeable, like most bathroom and kitchen topics.\nBut next morning in the bathroom, looking at the reflection of his\n unremarkable face, there was something chilly in his feelings that he\n couldn't quite analyze. He flipped his razor open and suspiciously\n studied the bright metal wafer, then flipped it closed with an\n irritated shrug.\n\n\n As he shaved, it occurred to him that a good detective-story murder\n method would be to substitute a very sharp razor blade for one the\n victim knew was extremely dull. He'd whip it across his throat, putting\n a lot of muscle into the stroke to get through the tangle, and—\nurrk\n!\n\n\n Ridiculous, of course. Wouldn't work except with a straight razor.\n Wouldn't even work with a straight razor, unless ... oh, well.\n\n\n He told himself the blade was noticeably duller today.\n\n\n Next morning, he was still using the freak blade, but with a persistent\n though very slight uneasiness. Things should behave as you expected\n them to, in accordance with their flimsy souls, he told himself at the\n barely conscious level. Men should die, hearts should break, girls\n should tell, nations perish, curtains get dirty, milk sour ... and\n razor blades grow dull. It was the comfortable, expected, reassuring\n way.\n\n\n He told himself the blade was duller still. Just a bit.\n\n\n The third morning, face lathered, he flipped open the razor and lifted\n it out.\n\n\n \"You're through,\" he said to it silently. \"I've had the experience\n before of getting bum shaves by trying to save a penny by pretending to\n myself that a wornout blade was still sharp enough, when it obviously\n couldn't be. Or maybe—\" he grinned a little wryly—\"maybe I'd almost\n get one more shave out of you and then you'd fall to pieces like\n the Wonderful One Horse Shay and leave me with a chin full of steel\n porcupine quills. No, thanks.\"\n\n\n So Ernie Meeker pushed through the little slot beside the mirror and\n heard tinkle faintly down and away the first of the Little Gifts, the\n Everlasting Razor Blade. One hundred and fifty thousand years later,\n it turned up, bright and shining, in the midst of a small knob of red\n iron oxide excavated by an archeological expedition of multi-brachs\n from Antares Gamma. Those wise history-mad beings handed it about\n wonderingly, from tentacle to impatient tentacle.\nThat day, Ernie felt a little sick, somehow. After dinner, he decided\n it was the Thuringer sausage he'd eaten at lunch. He hurried up to the\n bathroom with a spoon, but as he clutched the box of bicarbonate of\n soda, preparatory to plunging the spoon into it, it seemed to him that\n the box said distinctly, in a small inward-outward voice:\n\n\n \"No, no, no!\"\n\n\n Ernie sat down suddenly on the toilet seat. The spoon rattled against\n the porcelain finish of the washbowl as he laid it down. He held the\n box firmly in both hands and studied it.\n\n\n Size, shape, materials, blue color, closure, etc., were exactly as they\n should be. But the white lettering on the blue background read:\nAQUEOUS FUEL CATALYST\n\n\n Dissociates H\n 2\n O into hemi-quasi-stable H and O, furnishing a\n serviceable fuel-and-oxydizer mix for most motorcycles, automobiles,\n trucks, motorboats, airplanes, stationary motors, torque-twisters,\n translators, and rockets (exhaust velocity up to 6000 meters per\n second). Operates safely within and outside of all normal atmospheres.\n No special adaptor needed on oxygenizer-atmosphere motors.\nDirections\n: Place one pinch in fuel tank, fill with water. Add water\n as needed.\n\n\n A-F Catalyst should generally be renewed when objective tests show\n fuel quality has deteriorated 50 per cent.\nU.S. and Foreign Patents Pending\nAfter reading that several times, with suitable mind-checking and\n eye-testing in between, Ernie took up a little of the white powder on\n the end of a nailfile. He had thought of tasting it, but had instantly\n abandoned the notion and even refrained from sniffing the stuff—after\n all, the human body is mostly water.\n\n\n After reducing the quantity several times, he gingerly dumped at most\n four or five grains on the flat edge of the washbowl and then used the\n broad end of the nailfile to maneuver a large bead of water over to\n the almost invisible white deposit. He closed the box, put it and the\n nailfile carefully on the window ledge, lit a match and touched it to\n the drop, at the last moment ducking his head a little below the level\n of the washbowl.\n\n\n Nothing happened. After a moment, he slowly withdrew the match,\n shaking it out, and looked. There was nothing to see. He reached out to\n touch the stupid squashed ovoid of water.\n\n\n Ouch! He withdrew his fingers much faster than the match, shook them\n more sharply. Something was there, all right. Heat. Heat enough to hurt.\nHe cautiously explored the boundaries of the heat. It became noticeable\n about eighteen inches above the drop and almost an inch to each\n side—an invisible slim vertical cylinder. Crouching close, eyes level\n with the top of the washbowl, he could make out the flame—a thin\n finger of crinkled light.\n\n\n He noticed that a corner of the drop was seething—but only a corner,\n as if the heat were sharply bounded in that direction and perhaps as if\n the catalyst were only transforming the water to fuel a bit at a time.\n\n\n He reached up and tugged off the light. Now he could see the\n flame—ghostly, about four inches high, hardly thicker than a string,\n and colored not blue but pale green. A spectral green needle. He blew\n at it softly. It shimmied gracefully, but not, he thought, as much as\n the flame of a match or candle. It had character.\n\n\n He switched on the light. The drop was more than half gone now; the\n part that was left was all seething. And the bathroom was markedly\n warmer.\n\n\n \"Ernie! Are you going to be much longer?\"\n\n\n The knock hadn't been loud and his widowed sister's voice was more\n apologetic than peremptory, but he jumped, of course.\n\n\n \"I am testing something,\" he started to say and changed it mid-way. It\n came out, \"I am be out in a minute.\"\n\n\n He turned off the light again. The flame was a little shorter now and\n it shrank as he watched, about a quarter inch a second. As soon as it\n died, he switched on the light. The drop was gone.\n\n\n He scrubbed off the spot with a dry washrag, on second thought put a\n dab of vaseline on the washrag, scrubbed the spot again with that—he\n didn't like to think of even a grain of the powder getting in the\n drains or touching any water. He folded the washrag, tucked it in his\n pocket, put the blue box—after a final check of the lettering—in his\n other coat pocket, and opened the door.\n\n\n \"I was taking some bicarb,\" he told his sister. \"Thuringer sausage at\n lunch.\"\n\n\n She nodded absently.\nSleep refused even to flirt with Ernie, his mind was full of so many\n things, especially calculations involving the distance between his\n car and the house and the length of the garden hose. In desperation,\n as the white hours accumulated and his thoughts began to squirm, he\n grabbed up the detective story he'd bought at the corner newsstand. He\n had read thirty pages before he realized that he was turning them as\n rapidly as he could focus just once on each facing page.\n\n\n He jumped out of bed. My God, he thought, at that rate he'd finish the\n book under three minutes and here it wasn't even two o'clock yet!\n\n\n He selected the thickest book on the shelf, an overpoweringly dull\n historical treatise in small print. He turned two pages, three, then\n closed it with a clap and looked at the wall with frightened eyes.\n Ernie Meeker had discovered, inside the birthday box that was himself,\n the first of the Big Gifts.\n\n\n The trouble was that in that wee-hour, lonely bedroom, it didn't\n seem like a gift at all. How would he ever keep himself in books, he\n wondered, if he read them so fast? And think how full to bursting his\n mind would get—right now, the seven pages of fine-print history were\n churning in it, vividly clear, along with the first chapters of the new\n detective story. If he kept on absorbing information that fast, he'd\n have to be revising all his opinions and beliefs every couple of days\n at least—maybe every couple of hours.\n\n\n It seemed a dreadful, literally maddening prospect—his mind would\n ultimately become a universe of squirming macaroni. Even the wallpaper\n he was staring at, which imitated the grain of wood, had in an instant\n become so fully part of his consciousness that he felt he could turn\n his back on it right now and draw a picture of it correct to the\n tiniest detail. But who would ever want to do such a thing, or want to\n be able to?\n\n\n It was an abnormal, dangerous, temporary sensitivity, he told\n himself, generated by the excitement of the crazy discovery he'd made\n in the bathroom. Like the thoughts of a drowning man, riffling an\n infinity-paneled adventure-comic of his life as he bolts his last rough\n ration of air. Or like the feeling a psychotic must have that he's\n on the verge of visualizing the whole universe, having its ultimate\n secrets patter down into the palm of his outstretched hand—just before\n the walls close in.\n\n\n Ernie Meeker was not a drinking man, then. A pint had stood a week on\n his closet shelf and only been diminished three shots. But now he did a\n good job on the sturdy remainder.\n\n\n Pretty soon the unbearable, edge-of-doom clarity in his mind faded,\n the universe-macaroni cooked down to a thick white soup uniform as\n fog, and the words of the detective story were sliding into his mind\n individually, or at most in strings of three and four. Which, if it\n wasn't as it ideally should be in an ambitious man's mind, was at least\n darn comfortable.\n\n\n He had not rejected the Big Gift of Page-at-a-Glance Reading. Not\n quite. But he had dislocated for tonight at least the imposed nervous\n field on which it depended.\nFor want of a better place, Ernie dropped the rubber tube from the\n bathtub spray into the scrub bucket half full of odorous pink fluid and\n stared doubtfully at the uncapped gas tank. The tank had been almost\n empty when he'd last driven his car, he knew, because he'd been waiting\n until payday to gas up. Now he had used the tube to siphon out what\n he could of the remainder (he still could taste the stuff!) and he'd\n emptied the fuel line and carburator, more or less.\n\n\n Further than that, in the way of engine hygiene, Ernie's strictly\n kitchen mechanics did not go, but he felt that a catalyst used in\n pinches shouldn't be too particular about contaminants. Besides, the\n directions on the box hadn't said anything about cleaning the fuel\n tank, had they?\n\n\n He hesitated. At his feet, the garden hose gurgled noisily over the\n curb into the gutter; it had vindicated his midnight estimate, proving\n just long enough. He looked uneasily up and down the dawning street\n and was relieved to find it still empty. He wished fervently, not for\n the first time this Saturday morning, that he had a garage. Then he\n sighed, squared his shoulders a little, and lifted the box out of his\n pocket.\n\n\n Making to check the directions the umpteenth time, he received a body\n blow. The white lettering on the box had disappeared. The box didn't\n proclaim itself sodium bicarbonate again—there was just no lettering\n at all, only blue background. He turned it over several times.\n\n\n Right there died his tentative plan of eventually sharing his secret\n with some friend who knew more than himself about motors (he hadn't\n decided anyway who that would be). It would be just too silly to\n approach anyone he knew with a more-than-wild story and featureless\n blue box.\n\n\n For a moment, he came very close to dropping the box between the\n wide-set bars of the street drain and pouring the pink gas back in the\n tank. It had hit him, in a way for the first time, just how\ncrazy\nthis all was, how jarringly implausible even on such hypotheses as\n practical jokes, secret product perhaps military, or mad inventor\n (except himself).\n\n\n For how the devil should the stuff get into his bathroom disguised as\n bicarb? That circumstance seemed beyond imagination. Green flames ...\n vanishing letters ... \"torque-twisters, translators\" ... a box that\n talked....\nAt that point, simple faith came to Ernie's rescue: in the same\n bathroom, he\nhad\nseen the green flame; it had burned his fingers.\n\n\n Quickly he dipped up a little of the white powder on the edge of a\n fifty-cent piece, dumped it in the gas tank without quibbling as to\n quantity, rapped the coin on the edge of the opening, closed and\n pocketed the blue box, and picked up the spurting hose and jabbed it\n into the round hole.\n\n\n His heart was pounding and his breath was coming fast. That had taken\n real effort. So he was slow in hearing the footsteps behind him.\n\n\n His neighbor's gate was open and Mr. Jones stood open-mouthed a few\n feet behind him, all ready for his day's work as streetcar motorman and\n wearing the dark blue uniform that always made him look for a moment\n unpleasantly like a policeman.\n\n\n Ernie swung the hose around, flipping his thumb over the end to make\n a spray, and nonchalantly began to water the little rectangle of lawn\n between sidewalk and curb.\n\n\n The first things he watered were the bottoms of Mr. Jones's pants legs.\n\n\n Mr. Jones voiced no complaint. He backed off several steps, stared\n intently at Ernie, rather palely, it seemed to the latter. Then he\n turned and made off for the streetcar tracks at a very fast shuffle,\n shaking his feet a little now and then and glancing back several times\n over his shoulder without slowing down.\n\n\n Ernie felt light-headed. He decided there was enough water in the gas\n tank, capped it, and momentarily continued to water the lawn.\n\n\n \"Ernie! Come on in and have breakfast!\"\n\n\n He heeded his sister's call, telling himself it would be a good idea\n \"to give the stuff time to mix\" before testing the engine.\n\n\n He had divined her question and was ready with an answer.\n\n\n \"I've just found out that we're supposed to water our lawns only before\n seven in the morning or after seven in the evenings. It's the law.\"\nIt was the day for their monthly drive out to Wheaton to visit Uncle\n Fabius. On the whole, Ernie was glad his sister was in the car when he\n turned the key in the starter—it forced him to be calm and collected,\n though he didn't feel exactly right about exposing her to the danger\n of being blown up without first explaining to her the risk. But the\n motor started right up and began purring powerfully. Ernie's sister\n commented on it favorably.\n\n\n Then she went on to ask, \"Did you remember to buy gas yesterday?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" he said without thinking; then, realizing his mistake, quickly\n added, \"I'll buy some in Wheaton. There's enough to get us there.\"\n\n\n \"You didn't think so yesterday,\" she objected. \"You said the tank was\n nearly empty.\"\n\n\n \"I was wrong. Look, the gauge shows it's half full.\"\n\n\n \"But then how ... Ernie, didn't you once tell me the gauge doesn't\n work?\"\n\n\n \"Did I?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. Look, there's a station. Why don't you buy gas now?\"\n\n\n \"No, I'll wait for Wheaton—I know a place there I can get it cheaper,\"\n he insisted, rather lamely, he feared.\n\n\n His sister looked at him steadily. He settled his head between his\n shoulders and concentrated on driving. His feeling of excitement was\n spoiled, but a few minutes of silence brought it back. He thought of\n the blur of green flashes inside the purring motor. If the passing\n drivers only knew!\n\n\n Uncle Fabius, retired perhaps a few years too early and opinionated,\n was a trial, but he did know something about the automobile industry.\n Ernie chose a moment when his sister was out of the room to ask if\n he'd ever heard of a white powder that would turn water into gasoline\n or some usable fuel.\n\n\n \"Who's been getting at you?\" Uncle Fabius demanded sharply, to Ernie's\n surprise and embarrassment. \"That's one of the oldest swindles.\n They always tell this story about how this man had a white powder\n or something and demonstrated it once with a pail of water and then\n disappeared. You're supposed to believe that Detroit or the big oil\n companies got rid of him. It's just another of those malicious legends,\n concocted—by Russia, I imagine—to weaken your faith in American\n Industry, like the everlasting battery or the razor blade that never\n gets dull. You're looking pale, Ernie—don't tell me you've already put\n money in this white powder? I suppose someone's approached you with a\n proposition, though?\"\nWith considerable difficulty, Ernie convinced his uncle that he had\n \"just heard the story from a friend.\"\n\n\n \"In that case,\" Uncle Fabius opined, \"you can be sure some fuel-powder\n swindler has been getting at\nhim\n. When you see him—and be sure to\n make that soon—tell him from me that—\" and Uncle Fabius began an\n impassioned ninety-minute defense of big business, small business,\n prosperity, America, money, know-how, and a number of other\n institutions that defended pretty easily, so that the situation was\n wholly normal when Ernie's sister returned.\n\n\n As soon as the car pulled away from the curb on their way back to\n Chicago, she reminded him about the gas.\n\n\n \"Oh, I've already done that,\" he assured her. \"Made a special trip so I\n wouldn't forget. It was while you were out of the room. Didn't you hear\n me?\"\n\n\n \"No,\" she said, \"I didn't,\" and she looked at him steadily, as she had\n that morning. He similarly retreated to driving.\n\n\n Stopping for a railroad crossing, he braked too hard and the car\n stalled. His sister grabbed his arm. \"I knew that was going to happen,\"\n she said. \"I knew that for some reason you lied to me when—\" The\n motor, starting readily again, cut short her remark and Ernie didn't\n press his small triumph by asking her what she was about to say.\n\n\n To tell the truth, Ernie wasn't feeling as elated about today's\n fifty-mile drive as he'd imagined he would. Now he thought he could put\n his finger on the reason: It was the completely ... well,\narbitrary\nway in which the white powder had come into his possession.\n\n\n If he'd concocted it himself, or been given it by a shady promoter, or\n even seen the box fall out of the pocket of a suspicious-looking man\n in a trenchcoat,\nthen\nhe'd have felt more able to\ndo\nsomething\n about it, whether in the general line of starting a fuel-powder company\n or of going to the F.B.I.\n\n\n But just having the stuff drop into his hands from the sky, so to\n speak, as if in a crazy dream, and for that same reason not feeling\n able to talk about it and assure himself he wasn't going crazy ... oh,\n it is rough when you can't share things, really rough; not being able\n to share depressing news corrodes the spirit, but not being able to\n share exciting news can sometimes be even more corroding.\n\n\n Maybe, he told himself, he could figure out someone to tell. But who?\n And how? His mind shied away from the problem, rather decisively.\nWhen he checked the blue box that night, the original sodium\n bicarbonate lettering had returned with all its humdrum paragraphs. Not\n one word about exhaust velocities.\n\n\n From that moment, the fuel-powder became a trial to Ernie rather than a\n secret glory. He'd wake in the middle of the night doubting that he had\n ever really read the mind-dizzying lettering, ever really tested the\n stuff—perhaps he'd bring from sleep the chilling notion that in the\n dimness and excitement of Saturday morning he'd put the water in some\n other car's gas tank, perhaps Mr. Jones's. He could usually argue such\n ideas away, but they kept coming back. And yet he did no more bathroom\n testing.\n\n\n Of course the car still ran. He even fueled it once again with the\n garden hose, sniffing the nozzle to make sure it hadn't somehow got\n connected to the basement furnace oil-tank. He picked three o'clock in\n the morning for the act, but nevertheless as he was returning indoors\n he heard a window in Mr. Jones's house slam loudly. It unsettled him.\n Coming home the next day, he caught his sister and Mr. Jones consulting\n about something on the latter's doorsteps, which unsettled him further.\n\n\n He couldn't decide on a safe place to keep the box and took to carrying\n it around with him day and night. Bill spotted it once down at the\n office and by an unhappy coincidence needed some bicarb just then for a\n troubled stomach. Ernie explained on the spur of the moment that he was\n using the box to carry plaster of Paris, which involved him in further\n lies that he felt were quite unconvincing as well as making him appear\n decidedly eccentric, even butter-brained. Bill took to calling him \"the\n sculptor.\"\n\n\n Meanwhile, besides the problem of the white powder, Ernie was having\n other unsettling experiences, stemming (though of course he didn't\n know that) from the other Gifts—and not just the Big Gift of\n Page-at-a-Glance Reading, though that still returned from time to time\n to shock his consciousness and send him hurrying for a few quick shots.\nLike many another car-owning commuter, Ernie found the traffic and\n parking problems a bit too much for comfort and so used the fast\n electric train to carry him five times a week to the heart of the city.\n During those brief, swift, crowded trips Ernie, generally looking\n steadily out the window at the brown buildings and black stanchions\n whipping past, enjoyed a kind of anonymity and privacy more refreshing\n to his spirit than he realized. But now all that had been suddenly\n changed. People had started to talk to him; total strangers struck up\n conversations almost every morning and afternoon.\n\n\n Ernie couldn't figure out the reason and wasn't at all sure he liked\n it—except for Vivian.\n\n\n She was the sort of girl Ernie dreamed about, improperly. Tall, blonde\n and knowing, excitedly curved but armored in a black suit, friendly and\n funny but given to making almost cruelly deflating remarks, as if the\n neatly furled short umbrella dangling from her wrist might better be a\n black dog whip.\n\n\n She worked in an office too, a fancier one than Ernie's, as he found\n out from their morning conversations. He hadn't got to the point of\n asking her to lunch, but he was prodding himself.\n\n\n Why such a girl should ever have asked him for a match in the first\n place and then put up with his clumsy babblings on subsequent mornings\n was a mystery to him. He finally asked her about it in what he hoped\n was a joking way, though she seemed to know a lot more about joking\n than he did.\n\n\n \"Don't you know?\" she countered. \"I mean what makes you attractive to\n people?\"\n\n\n \"Me attractive? No.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I'll tell you then, Ernie, and I've got to admit it's something\n quite out of the ordinary.\nI've\nnever noticed it in anyone else.\n Ernie, I'm sure your knowledge of romantic novels is shamefully\n deficient, it's clear from your manners, but in the earlier ones—not\n in style now—the hero is described as tall, manly, broad-shouldered,\n Anglo-Saxon features, etcetera, etcetera, but there's one thing he\n always has, something that sounds like poetic over-enthusiasm if you\n stop to analyze it, a physical impossibility, but that I have to admit\n you, Ernie, actually have. Flashing eyes.\"\n\n\n \"Flashing eyes? Me?\"\nShe nodded solemnly. He thought her long straight lips trembled on\n the verge of a grin, but he couldn't be sure.\n\n\n \"How do you mean, flashing eyes?\" he protested. \"How\ncan\neyes flash,\n except by reflecting light? In that case, I guess they'd seem to\n 'flash' more if a person opened them wide but kept blinking them a lot.\n Is that what I do?\"\n\n\n \"No, Ernie, though you're doing it now,\" she told him, shaking her\n head. \"No, Ernie, your eyes just give a tiny flash of their own about\n every five seconds, like a lighthouse, but barely,\nbarely\nbright\n enough for another person to notice. It makes you irresistible. Of\n course I've never seen you in the dark; maybe they wouldn't flash in\n the dark.\"\n\n\n \"You're joking.\"\n\n\n Vivian frowned a little at that remark, as if she were puzzled herself.\n\n\n \"Well, maybe I am and maybe I'm not,\" she said. \"In any case, don't get\n conceited about your Flashing Eyes, because I'm sure you'll never know\n how to take advantage of them.\"\n\n\n When he parted from her downtown, pausing a moment to watch her walk\n away with feline majesty, he muttered \"Flashing Eyes!\" with a shrug of\n the shoulders and a skeptical growl. Just the same, he ducked his head\n as he moved off and he pulled the brim of his hat down sharply.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Where do the presents appear to go when Meeker is finished with them?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_1", "options": ["They disappear into a green flame", "He places them into the trash", "They are things that never run out", "They dissolve into thin air"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Meeker receive presents in the story?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_2", "options": ["They come addressed to him on the curb which he has to hide from his neighbors", "They all seem to appear like regular everyday objects or experiences at first", "They are tucked into his pockets", "They materialize in a green flame that only he can see"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the purpose of bestowing gifts on Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_3", "options": ["To bring joy and hope in the universe", "It is not explained thoroughly enough to say", "To accelerate technological progress on the planet", "To reaffirm Earth’s beliefs in a benevolent being"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Meeker’s outlook on life through the story?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_4", "options": ["He feels cursed and afraid", "He thinks things are starting to look up for him overall", "He doesn’t think he has the kind of life worth living", "He finds joy in the simple things and is confident in himself"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Ernie and his family?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_5", "options": ["His sister and uncle are close with him, and they all spend time together on the holidays", "They seem to tolerate each other well enough, though there is perhaps some suspicion", "Ernie feels like an outcast in his family and seeks familial-like bonds elsewhere", "His mother is fully supportive of all his wishes, though his Uncle is very suspicious of him"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who on Earth was given the presents?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_6", "options": ["One person from each country, though the presents were not the same", "One person from each family in Chicago", "At least two people that were then deemed to be crazy by the rest of the public", "Only Ernie Meeker"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Meeker think of the presents he was receiving?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_7", "options": ["He was beginning to question his sanity", "He was afraid and rejected all of the presents", "He felt he had a secret admirer", "He felt it was an opportunity to become rich"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What were the presents Meeker received from largest to smallest?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_8", "options": ["Sparkling eyes, speed reading, fuel powder, razor blade", "Powdered fuel, speed reading, sparkling eyes, everlasting toiletries", "Companionship, fuel powder, everlasting razor", "Everlasting razor, powdered fuel, speed reading, sparkling eyes"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Ernie’s living situation?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_9", "options": ["He lives alone with family close by", "He has a wife and kids", "He lives with some family", "He is estranged from his real family"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Meeker do with his first present?", "question_unique_id": "51436_MT3ROY6U_10", "options": ["Gave it away to his uncle", "Threw it away", "Let his coworkers borrow it to see if it was only him that noticed it’s specialties", "Studied it carefully and hatched plans to replicate it"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/3/51436//51436-h//51436-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51362", "set_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Lex", "year": 1954, "author": "Haggert, W. T.", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Short stories; Engineers -- Fiction; Businessmen -- Fiction; Robots -- Fiction; Artificial intelligence -- Fiction", "article": "LEX\nBy W. T. HAGGERT\n\n\n Illustrated by WOOD\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine August 1959.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nNothing in the world could be happier and\n \nmere serene than a man who loves his work—but\n \nwhat happens when it loves him back?\nKeep your nerve, Peter Manners told himself; it's only a job. But nerve\n has to rest on a sturdier foundation than cash reserves just above zero\n and eviction if he came away from this interview still unemployed.\n Clay, at the Association of Professional Engineers, who had set up the\n appointment, hadn't eased Peter's nervousness by admitting, \"I don't\n know what in hell he's looking for. He's turned down every man we've\n sent him.\"\n\n\n The interview was at three. Fifteen minutes to go. Coming early would\n betray overeagerness. Peter stood in front of the Lex Industries plant\n and studied it to kill time. Plain, featureless concrete walls, not\n large for a manufacturing plant—it took a scant minute to exhaust its\n sightseeing potential. If he walked around the building, he could, if\n he ambled, come back to the front entrance just before three.\n\n\n He turned the corner, stopped, frowned, wondering what there was about\n the building that seemed so puzzling. It could not have been plainer,\n more ordinary. It was in fact, he only gradually realized, so plain and\n ordinary that it was like no other building he had ever seen.\n\n\n There had been windows at the front. There were none at the side, and\n none at the rear. Then how were the working areas lit? He looked for\n the electric service lines and found them at one of the rear corners.\n They jolted him. The distribution transformers were ten times as large\n as they should have been for a plant this size.\n\n\n Something else was wrong. Peter looked for minutes before he found out\n what it was. Factories usually have large side doorways for employees\n changing shifts. This building had one small office entrance facing the\n street, and the only other door was at the loading bay—big enough to\n handle employee traffic, but four feet above the ground. Without any\n stairs, it could be used only by trucks backing up to it. Maybe the\n employees' entrance was on the third side.\n\n\n It wasn't.\nStaring back at the last blank wall, Peter suddenly remembered the time\n he had set out to kill. He looked at his watch and gasped. At a run,\n set to straight-arm the door, he almost fell on his face. The door had\n opened by itself. He stopped and looked for a photo-electric eye, but\n a soft voice said through a loudspeaker in the anteroom wall: \"Mr.\n Manners?\"\n\n\n \"What?\" he panted. \"Who—?\"\n\n\n \"You\nare\nMr. Manners?\" the voice asked.\n\n\n He nodded, then realized he had to answer aloud if there was a\n microphone around; but the soft voice said: \"Follow the open doors down\n the hall. Mr. Lexington is expecting you.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" Peter said, and a door at one side of the anteroom swung open\n for him.\n\n\n He went through it with his composure slipping still further from his\n grip. This was no way to go into an interview, but doors kept opening\n before and shutting after him, until only one was left, and the last of\n his calm was blasted away by a bellow from within.\n\n\n \"Don't stand out there like a jackass! Either come in or go away!\"\n\n\n Peter found himself leaping obediently toward the doorway. He stopped\n just short of it, took a deep breath and huffed it out, took another,\n all the while thinking, Hold on now; you're in no shape for an\n interview—and it's not your fault—this whole setup is geared to\n unnerve you: the kindergarten kid called in to see the principal.\n\n\n He let another bellow bounce off him as he blew out the second breath,\n straightened his jacket and tie, and walked in as an engineer applying\n for a position should.\n\n\n \"Mr. Lexington?\" he said. \"I'm Peter Manners. The Association—\"\n\n\n \"Sit down,\" said the man at the desk. \"Let's look you over.\"\n\n\n He was a huge man behind an even huger desk. Peter took a chair in\n front of the desk and let himself be inspected. It wasn't comfortable.\n He did some looking over of his own to ease the tension.\n\n\n The room was more than merely large, carpeted throughout with\n a high-pile, rich, sound-deadening rug. The oversized desk and\n massive leather chairs, heavy patterned drapes, ornately framed\n paintings—by God, even a glass-brick manteled fireplace and bowls with\n flowers!—made him feel as if he had walked down a hospital corridor\n into Hollywood's idea of an office.\n\n\n His eyes eventually had to move to Lexington, and they were daunted\n for another instant. This was a citadel of a man—great girders of\n frame supporting buttresses of muscle—with a vaulting head and\n drawbridge chin and a steel gaze that defied any attempt to storm it.\n\n\n But then Peter came out of his momentary flinch, and there was an age\n to the man, about 65, and he saw the muscles had turned to fat, the\n complexion ashen, the eyes set deep as though retreating from pain, and\n this was a citadel of a man, yes, but beginning to crumble.\n\n\n \"What can you do?\" asked Lexington abruptly.\nPeter started, opened his mouth to answer, closed it again. He'd been\n jolted too often in too short a time to be stampeded into blurting a\n reply that would cost him this job.\n\n\n \"Good,\" said Lexington. \"Only a fool would try to answer that. Do you\n have any knowledge of medicine?\"\n\n\n \"Not enough to matter,\" Peter said, stung by the compliment.\n\n\n \"I don't mean how to bandage a cut or splint a broken arm. I mean\n things like cell structure, neural communication—the\nbasics\nof how\n we live.\"\n\n\n \"I'm applying for a job as engineer.\"\n\n\n \"I know. Are you interested in the basics of how we live?\"\n\n\n Peter looked for a hidden trap, found none. \"Of course. Isn't everyone?\"\n\n\n \"Less than you think,\" Lexington said. \"It's the preconceived notions\n they're interested in protecting. At least I won't have to beat them\n out of you.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" said Peter, and waited for the next fast ball.\n\n\n \"How long have you been out of school?\"\n\n\n \"Only two years. But you knew that from the Association—\"\n\n\n \"No practical experience to speak of?\"\n\n\n \"Some,\" said Peter, stung again, this time not by a compliment. \"After\n I got my degree, I went East for a post-graduate training program with\n an electrical manufacturer. I got quite a bit of experience there. The\n company—\"\n\n\n \"Stockpiled you,\" Lexington said.\n\n\n Peter blinked. \"Sir?\"\n\n\n \"Stockpiled you! How much did they pay you?\"\n\n\n \"Not very much, but we were getting the training instead of wages.\"\n\n\n \"Did that come out of the pamphlets they gave you?\"\n\n\n \"Did what come out—\"\n\n\n \"That guff about receiving training instead of wages!\" said Lexington.\n \"Any company that really wants bright trainees will compete for them\n with money—cold, hard cash, not platitudes. Maybe you saw a few of\n their products being made, maybe you didn't. But you're a lot weaker in\n calculus than when you left school, and in a dozen other subjects too,\n aren't you?\"\n\n\n \"Well, nothing we did on the course involved higher mathematics,\" Peter\n admitted cautiously, \"and I suppose I could use a refresher course in\n calculus.\"\n\n\n \"Just as I said—they stockpiled you, instead of using you as an\n engineer. They hired you at a cut wage and taught you things that would\n be useful only in their own company, while in the meantime you were\n getting weaker in the subjects you'd paid to learn. Or are you one of\n these birds that had the shot paid for him?\"\n\n\n \"I worked my way through,\" said Peter stiffly.\n\n\n \"If you'd stayed with them five years, do you think you'd be able to\n get a job with someone else?\"\n\n\n Peter considered his answer carefully. Every man the Association had\n sent had been turned away. That meant bluffs didn't work. Neither, he'd\n seen for himself, did allowing himself to be intimidated.\n\n\n \"I hadn't thought about it,\" he said. \"I suppose it wouldn't have been\n easy.\"\n\n\n \"Impossible, you mean. You wouldn't know a single thing except their\n procedures, their catalogue numbers, their way of doing things. And\n you'd have forgotten so much of your engineering training, you'd be\n scared to take on an engineer's job, for fear you'd be asked to do\n something you'd forgotten how to do. At that point, they could take you\n out of the stockpile, put you in just about any job they wanted, at\n any wage you'd stand for, and they'd have an indentured worker with a\n degree—but not the price tag. You see that now?\"\nIt made Peter feel he had been suckered, but he had decided to play\n this straight all the way. He nodded.\n\n\n \"Why'd you leave?\" Lexington pursued, unrelenting.\n\n\n \"I finished the course and the increase they offered on a permanent\n basis wasn't enough, so I went elsewhere—\"\n\n\n \"With your head full of this nonsense about a shortage of engineers.\"\n\n\n Peter swallowed. \"I thought it would be easier to get a job than it has\n been, yes.\"\n\n\n \"They start the talk about a shortage and then they keep it going. Why?\n So youngsters will take up engineering thinking they'll wind up among a\n highly paid minority. You did, didn't you?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\"\n\n\n \"And so did all the others there with you, at school and in this\n stockpiling outfit?\"\n\n\n \"That's right.\"\n\n\n \"Well,\" said Lexington unexpectedly, \"there\nis\na shortage! And the\n stockpiles are the ones who made it, and who keep it going! And the\n hell of it is that they can't stop—when one does it, they all have\n to, or their costs get out of line and they can't compete. What's the\n solution?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" Peter said.\n\n\n Lexington leaned back. \"That's quite a lot of admissions you've made.\n What makes you think you're qualified for the job I'm offering?\"\n\n\n \"You said you wanted an engineer.\"\n\n\n \"And I've just proved you're less of an engineer than when you left\n school. I have, haven't I?\"\n\n\n \"All right, you have,\" Peter said angrily.\n\n\n \"And now you're wondering why I don't get somebody fresh out of school.\n Right?\"\n\n\n Peter straightened up and met the old man's challenging gaze. \"That and\n whether you're giving me a hard time just for the hell of it.\"\n\n\n \"Well, am I?\" Lexington demanded.\n\n\n Looking at him squarely, seeing the intensity of the pain-drawn eyes,\n Peter had the startling feeling that Lexington was rooting for him!\n \"No, you're not.\"\n\n\n \"Then what am I after?\"\n\n\n \"Suppose you tell me.\"\n\n\n So suddenly that it was almost like a collapse, the tension went out\n of the old man's face and shoulders. He nodded with inexpressible\n tiredness. \"Good again. The man I want doesn't exist. He has to\n be made—the same as I was. You qualify, so far. You've lost your\n illusions, but haven't had time yet to replace them with dogma or\n cynicism or bitterness. You saw immediately that fake humility\n or cockiness wouldn't get you anywhere here, and you were right.\n Those were the important things. The background data I got from the\n Association on you counted, of course, but only if you were teachable.\n I think you are. Am I right?\"\n\n\n \"At least I can face knowing how much I don't know,\" said Peter, \"if\n that answers the question.\"\n\n\n \"It does. Partly. What did you notice about this plant?\"\n\n\n In precis form, Peter listed his observations: the absence of windows\n at sides and rear, the unusual amount of power, the automatic doors,\n the lack of employees' entrances.\n\n\n \"Very good,\" said Lexington. \"Most people only notice the automatic\n doors. Anything else?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" Peter said. \"You're the only person I've seen in the building.\"\n\n\n \"I'm the only one there is.\"\n\n\n Peter stared his disbelief. Automated plants were nothing new, but\n they all had their limitations. Either they dealt with exactly similar\n products or things that could be handled on a flow basis, like oil or\n water-soluble chemicals. Even these had no more to do than process the\n goods.\n\n\n \"Come on,\" said Lexington, getting massively to his feet. \"I'll show\n you.\"\nThe office door opened, and Peter found himself being led down the\n antiseptic corridor to another door which had opened, giving access to\n the manufacturing area. As they moved along, between rows of seemingly\n disorganized machinery, Peter noticed that the factory lights high\n overhead followed their progress, turning themselves on in advance\n of their coming, and going out after they had passed, keeping a pool\n of illumination only in the immediate area they occupied. Soon they\n reached a large door which Peter recognized as the inside of the truck\n loading door he had seen from outside.\n\n\n Lexington paused here. \"This is the bay used by the trucks arriving\n with raw materials,\" he said. \"They back up to this door, and a set\n of automatic jacks outside lines up the trailer body with the door\n exactly. Then the door opens and the truck is unloaded by these\n materials handling machines.\"\n\n\n Peter didn't see him touch anything, but as he spoke, three glistening\n machines, apparently self-powered, rolled noiselessly up to the door in\n formation and stopped there, apparently waiting to be inspected.\n\n\n They gave Peter the creeps. Simple square boxes, set on casters, with\n two arms each mounted on the sides might have looked similar. The arms,\n fashioned much like human arms, hung at the sides, not limply, but in a\n relaxed position that somehow indicated readiness.\n\n\n Lexington went over to one of them and patted it lovingly. \"Really,\n these machines are only an extension of one large machine. The whole\n plant, as a matter of fact, is controlled from one point and is really\n a single unit. These materials handlers, or manipulators, were about\n the toughest things in the place to design. But they're tremendously\n useful. You'll see a lot of them around.\"\n\n\n Lexington was about to leave the side of the machine when abruptly one\n of the arms rose to the handkerchief in his breast pocket and daintily\n tugged it into a more attractive position. It took only a split second,\n and before Lexington could react, all three machines were moving away\n to attend to mysterious duties of their own.\nPeter tore his eyes away from them in time to see the look of\n frustrated embarrassment that crossed Lexington's face, only to be\n replaced by one of anger. He said nothing, however, and led Peter to\n a large bay where racks of steel plate, bar forms, nuts, bolts, and\n other materials were stored.\n\n\n \"After unloading a truck, the machines check the shipment, report any\n shortages or overages, and store the materials here,\" he said, the\n trace of anger not yet gone from his voice. \"When an order is received,\n it's translated into the catalogue numbers used internally within the\n plant, and machines like the ones you just saw withdraw the necessary\n materials from stock, make the component parts, assemble them, and\n package the finished goods for shipment. Simultaneously, an order is\n sent to the billing section to bill the customer, and an order is\n sent to our trucker to come and pick the shipment up. Meanwhile, if\n the withdrawal of the materials required has depleted our stock, the\n purchasing section is instructed to order more raw materials. I'll take\n you through the manufacturing and assembly sections right now, but\n they're too noisy for me to explain what's going on while we're there.\"\nPeter followed numbly as Lexington led him through a maze of machines,\n each one seemingly intent on cutting, bending, welding, grinding\n or carrying some bit of metal, or just standing idle, waiting for\n something to do. The two-armed manipulators Peter had just seen were\n everywhere, scuttling from machine to machine, apparently with an\n exact knowledge of what they were doing and the most efficient way of\n doing it.\n\n\n He wondered what would happen if one of them tried to use the same\n aisle they were using. He pictured a futile attempt to escape the\n onrushing wheels, saw himself clambering out of the path of the\n speeding vehicle just in time to fall into the jaws of the punch press\n that was laboring beside him at the moment. Nervously, he looked for an\n exit, but his apprehension was unnecessary. The machines seemed to know\n where they were and avoided the two men, or stopped to wait for them to\n go by.\n\n\n Back in the office section of the building, Lexington indicated a small\n room where a typewriter could be heard clattering away. \"Standard\n business machines, operated by the central control mechanism. In\n that room,\" he said, as the door swung open and Peter saw that the\n typewriter was actually a sort of teletype, with no one before the\n keyboard, \"incoming mail is sorted and inquiries are replied to. In\n this one over here, purchase orders are prepared, and across the hall\n there's a very similar rig set up in conjunction with an automatic\n bookkeeper to keep track of the pennies and to bill the customers.\"\n\n\n \"Then all you do is read the incoming mail and maintain the machinery?\"\n asked Peter, trying to shake off the feeling of open amazement that\n had engulfed him.\n\n\n \"I don't even do those things, except for a few letters that come in\n every week that—it doesn't want to deal with by itself.\"\n\n\n The shock of what he had just seen was showing plainly on Peter's face\n when they walked back into Lexington's office and sat down. Lexington\n looked at him for quite a while without saying anything, his face\n sagging and pale. Peter didn't trust himself to speak, and let the\n silence remain unbroken.\n\n\n Finally Lexington spoke. \"I know it's hard to believe, but there it is.\"\n\n\n \"Hard to believe?\" said Peter. \"I almost can't. The trade journals run\n articles about factories like this one, but planned for ten, maybe\n twenty years in the future.\"\n\n\n \"Damn fools!\" exclaimed Lexington, getting part of his breath back.\n \"They could have had it years ago, if they'd been willing to drop their\n idiotic notions about specialization.\"\n\n\n Lexington mopped his forehead with a large white handkerchief.\n Apparently the walk through the factory had tired him considerably,\n although it hadn't been strenuous.\nHe leaned back in his chair and began to talk in a low voice completely\n in contrast with the overbearing manner he had used upon Peter's\n arrival. \"You know what we make, of course.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. Conduit fittings.\"\n\n\n \"And a lot of other electrical products, too. I started out in this\n business twenty years ago, using orthodox techniques. I never got\n through university. I took a couple of years of an arts course, and\n got so interested in biology that I didn't study anything else.\n They bounced me out of the course, and I re-entered in engineering,\n determined not to make the same mistake again. But I did. I got too\n absorbed in those parts of the course that had to do with electrical\n theory and lost the rest as a result. The same thing happened when I\n tried commerce, with accounting, so I gave up and started working for\n one of my competitors. It wasn't too long before I saw that the only\n way I could get ahead was to open up on my own.\"\n\n\n Lexington sank deeper in his chair and stared at the ceiling as he\n spoke. \"I put myself in hock to the eyeballs, which wasn't easy,\n because I had just got married, and started off in a very small way.\n After three years, I had a fairly decent little business going, and I\n suppose it would have grown just like any other business, except for\n a strike that came along and put me right back where I started. My\n wife, whom I'm afraid I had neglected for the sake of the business,\n was killed in a car accident about then, and rightly or wrongly, that\n made me angrier with the union than anything else. If the union hadn't\n made things so tough for me from the beginning, I'd have had more time\n to spend with my wife before her death. As things turned out—well, I\n remember looking down at her coffin and thinking that I hardly knew the\n girl.\n\n\n \"For the next few years, I concentrated on getting rid of as many\n employees as I could, by replacing them with automatic machines. I'd\n design the control circuits myself, in many cases wire the things up\n myself, always concentrating on replacing men with machines. But it\n wasn't very successful. I found that the more automatic I made my\n plant, the lower my costs went. The lower my costs went, the more\n business I got, and the more I had to expand.\"\n\n\n Lexington scowled. \"I got sick of it. I decided to try developing one\n multi-purpose control circuit that would control everything, from\n ordering the raw materials to shipping the finished goods. As I told\n you, I had taken quite an interest in biology when I was in school,\n and from studies of nerve tissue in particular, plus my electrical\n knowledge, I had a few ideas on how to do it. It took me three years,\n but I began to see that I could develop circuitry that could remember,\n compare, detect similarities, and so on. Not the way they do it today,\n of course. To do what I wanted to do with these big clumsy magnetic\n drums, tapes, and what-not, you'd need a building the size of Mount\n Everest. But I found that I could let organic chemistry do most of the\n work for me.\n\n\n \"By creating the proper compounds, with their molecules arranged in\n predetermined matrixes, I found I could duplicate electrical circuitry\n in units so tiny that my biggest problem was getting into and out of\n the logic units with conventional wiring. I finally beat that the same\n way they solved the problem of translating a picture on a screen into\n electrical signals, developed equipment to scan the units cyclically,\n and once I'd done that, the battle was over.\n\n\n \"I built this building and incorporated it as a separate company, to\n compete with my first outfit. In the beginning, I had it rigged up to\n do only the manual work that you saw being done a few minutes ago in\n the back of this place. I figured that the best thing for me to do\n would be to turn the job of selling my stuff over to jobbers, leaving\n me free to do nothing except receive orders, punch the catalogue\n numbers into the control console, do the billing, and collect the\n money.\"\n\n\n \"What happened to your original company?\" Peter asked.\nLexington smiled. \"Well, automated as it was, it couldn't compete with\n this plant. It gave me great pleasure, three years after this one\n started working, to see my old company go belly up. This company bought\n the old firm's equipment for next to nothing and I wound up with all my\n assets, but only one employee—me.\n\n\n \"I thought everything would be rosy from that point on, but it\n wasn't. I found that I couldn't keep up with the mail unless I worked\n impossible hours. I added a couple of new pieces of equipment to the\n control section. One was simply a huge memory bank. The other was\n a comparator circuit. A complicated one, but a comparator circuit\n nevertheless. Here I was working on instinct more than anything. I\n figured that if I interconnected these circuits in such a way that\n they could sense everything that went on in the plant, and compare one\n action with another, by and by the unit would be able to see patterns.\n\n\n \"Then, through the existing command output, I figured these new units\n would be able to control the plant, continuing the various patterns of\n activity that I'd already established.\"\n\n\n Here Lexington frowned. \"It didn't work worth a damn! It just sat there\n and did nothing. I couldn't understand it for the longest time, and\n then I realized what the trouble was. I put a kicker circuit into it, a\n sort of voltage-bias network. I reset the equipment so that while it\n was still under instructions to receive orders and produce goods, its\n prime purpose was to activate the kicker. The kicker, however, could\n only be activated by me, manually. Lastly, I set up one of the early\n TV pickups over the mail slitter and allowed every letter I received,\n every order, to be fed into the memory banks. That did it.\"\n\n\n \"I—I don't understand,\" stammered Peter.\n\n\n \"Simple! Whenever I was pleased that things were going smoothly, I\n pressed the kicker button. The machine had one purpose, so far as its\n logic circuits were concerned. Its object was to get me to press that\n button. Every day I'd press it at the same time, unless things weren't\n going well. If there had been trouble in the shop, I'd press it late,\n or maybe not at all. If all the orders were out on schedule, or ahead\n of time, I'd press it ahead of time, or maybe twice in the same day.\n Pretty soon the machine got the idea.\n\n\n \"I'll never forget the day I picked up an incoming order form from one\n of the western jobbers, and found that the keyboard was locked when I\n tried to punch it into the control console. It completely baffled me\n at first. Then, while I was tracing out the circuits to see if I could\n discover what was holding the keyboard lock in, I noticed that the\n order was already entered on the in-progress list. I was a long time\n convincing myself that it had really happened, but there was no other\n explanation.\n\n\n \"The machine had realized that whenever one of those forms came in, I\n copied the list of goods from it onto the in-progress list through the\n console keyboard, thus activating the producing mechanisms in the back\n of the plant. The machine had done it for me this time, then locked the\n keyboard so I couldn't enter the order twice. I think I held down the\n kicker button for a full five minutes that day.\"\n\n\n \"This kicker button,\" Peter said tentatively, \"it's like the pleasure\n center in an animal's brain, isn't it?\"\nWhen Lexington beamed, Peter felt a surge of relief. Talking with this\n man was like walking a tightrope. A word too much or a word too little\n might mean the difference between getting the job or losing it.\n\n\n \"Exactly!\" whispered Lexington, in an almost conspiratorial tone. \"I\n had altered the circuitry of the machine so that it tried to give\n me pleasure—because by doing so, its own pleasure circuit would be\n activated.\n\n\n \"Things went fast from then on. Once I realized that the machine\n was learning, I put TV monitors all over the place, so the machine\n could watch everything that was going on. After a short while I had\n to increase the memory bank, and later I increased it again, but the\n rewards were worth it. Soon, by watching what I did, and then by doing\n it for me next time it had to be done, the machine had learned to do\n almost everything, and I had time to sit back and count my winnings.\"\n\n\n At this point the door opened, and a small self-propelled cart wheeled\n silently into the room. Stopping in front of Peter, it waited until he\n had taken a small plate laden with two or three cakes off its surface.\n Then the soft, evenly modulated voice he had heard before asked, \"How\n do you like your coffee? Cream, sugar, both or black?\"\n\n\n Peter looked for the speaker in the side of the cart, saw nothing, and\n replied, feeling slightly silly as he did so, \"Black, please.\"\n\n\n A square hole appeared in the top of the cart, like the elevator hole\n in an aircraft carrier's deck. When the section of the cart's surface\n rose again, a fine china cup containing steaming black coffee rested\n on it. Peter took it and sipped it, as he supposed he was expected to\n do, while the cart proceeded over to Lexington's desk. Once there, it\n stopped again, and another cup of coffee rose to its surface.\nLexington took the coffee from the top of the car, obviously angry\n about something. Silently, he waited until the cart had left the\n office, then snapped, \"Look at those bloody cups!\"\n\n\n Peter looked at his, which was eggshell thin, fluted with carving and\n ornately covered with gold leaf. \"They look very expensive,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Not only expensive, but stupid and impractical!\" exploded Lexington.\n \"They only hold half a cup, they'll break at a touch, every one has to\n be matched with its own saucer, and if you use them for any length of\n time, the gold leaf comes off!\"\n\n\n Peter searched for a comment, found none that fitted this odd outburst,\n so he kept silent.\nLexington stared at his cup without touching it for a long while. Then\n he continued with his narrative. \"I suppose it's all my own fault. I\n didn't detect the symptoms soon enough. After this plant got working\n properly, I started living here. It wasn't a question of saving money.\n I hated to waste two hours a day driving to and from my house, and I\n also wanted to be on hand in case anything should go wrong that the\n machine couldn't fix for itself.\"\n\n\n Handling the cup as if it were going to shatter at any moment, he took\n a gulp. \"I began to see that the machine could understand the written\n word, and I tried hooking a teletype directly into the logic circuits.\n It was like uncorking a seltzer bottle. The machine had a funny\n vocabulary—all of it gleaned from letters it had seen coming in, and\n replies it had seen leaving. But it was intelligible. It even displayed\n some traces of the personality the machine was acquiring.\n\n\n \"It had chosen a name for itself, for instance—'Lex.' That shook me.\n You might think Lex Industries was named through an abbreviation of\n the name Lexington, but it wasn't. My wife's name was Alexis, and it\n was named after the nickname she always used. I objected, of course,\n but how can you object on a point like that to a machine? Bear in mind\n that I had to be careful to behave reasonably at all times, because the\n machine was still learning from me, and I was afraid that any tantrums\n I threw might be imitated.\"\n\n\n \"It sounds pretty awkward,\" Peter put in.\n\n\n \"You don't know the half of it! As time went on, I had less and less to\n do, and business-wise I found that the entire control of the operation\n was slipping from my grasp. Many times I discovered—too late—that\n the machine had taken the damnedest risks you ever saw on bids and\n contracts for supply. It was quoting impossible delivery times on\n some orders, and charging pirate's prices on others, all without any\n obvious reason. Inexplicably, we always came out on top. It would turn\n out that on the short-delivery-time quotations, we'd been up against\n stiff competition, and cutting the production time was the only way we\n could get the order. On the high-priced quotes, I'd find that no one\n else was bidding. We were making more money than I'd ever dreamed of,\n and to make it still better, I'd find that for months I had virtually\n nothing to do.\"\n\n\n \"It sounds wonderful, sir,\" said Peter, feeling dazzled.\n\n\n \"It was, in a way. I remember one day I was especially pleased with\n something, and I went to the control console to give the kicker button\n a long, hard push. The button, much to my amazement, had been removed,\n and a blank plate had been installed to cover the opening in the board.\n I went over to the teletype and punched in the shortest message I had\n ever sent. 'LEX—WHAT THE HELL?' I typed.\n\n\n \"The answer came back in the jargon it had learned from letters it had\n seen, and I remember it as if it just happened. 'MR. A LEXINGTON, LEX\n INDUSTRIES, DEAR SIR: RE YOUR LETTER OF THE THIRTEENTH INST., I AM\n PLEASED TO ADVISE YOU THAT I AM ABLE TO DISCERN WHETHER OR NOT YOU ARE\n PLEASED WITH MY SERVICE WITHOUT THE USE OF THE EQUIPMENT PREVIOUSLY\n USED FOR THIS PURPOSE. RESPECTFULLY, I MIGHT SUGGEST THAT IF THE\n PUSHBUTTON ARRANGEMENT WERE NECESSARY, I COULD PUSH THE BUTTON MYSELF.\n I DO NOT BELIEVE THIS WOULD MEET WITH YOUR APPROVAL, AND HAVE TAKEN\n STEPS TO RELIEVE YOU OF THE BURDEN INVOLVED IN REMEMBERING TO PUSH THE\n BUTTON EACH TIME YOU ARE ESPECIALLY PLEASED. I SHOULD LIKE TO TAKE THIS\n OPPORTUNITY TO THANK YOU FOR YOUR INQUIRY, AND LOOK FORWARD TO SERVING\n YOU IN THE FUTURE AS I HAVE IN THE PAST. YOURS FAITHFULLY, LEX'.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "How does Lexington feel towards his machinery?", "question_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH_1", "options": ["He feels he has lost his ability to properly control the machinery", "He keeps a tight control on it’s operations to make sure nothing goes awry", "He detests what he has created", "He has come to understand it can not possibly operate without him"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Peter approach his conversations with Lexington?", "question_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH_2", "options": ["He covered many of the details of his background to hopefully get himself hired", "He dutifully took notes to be able to report what he found out", "He was cautious to be humble and honest with his answers", "He carefully mirrored his behavior to not upset him"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Lexington’s personality like?", "question_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH_3", "options": ["Eccentric and optimistically inclined", "Eccentric and prone to occasional outbursts", "Quiet and reserved", "Weathered and apathetic"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is most like the experience Lexington created in his factory?", "question_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH_4", "options": ["Advanced automation that only requires one engineer operator to manage a control panel", "Artificial intelligence", "Mechanically assisted task stations to minimize the chance of human workers being hurt", "Classes of specialized robots for each task"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Lexington come to create his factory?", "question_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH_5", "options": ["He inherited the buildings and the base machinery in a windfall", "He converted his factory from an automotive plant", "He started from relatively little and built the operation slowly over time increasing automation capacity", "After he graduated college, he and his business partner created the first factory prototype, but eventually split the business in half and parted ways"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does Lexington make at the factory?", "question_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH_6", "options": ["Automotive components", "Basic parts", "Aircraft components", "Robots to automate other factories"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many people did Peter find out Lexington employed at the factory?", "question_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH_7", "options": ["About 50, each with a robot assistant", "Only himself", "Three", "Himself and one engineer whom he was trying to replace"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Lexington think about Peter’s engineering training experience?", "question_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH_8", "options": ["He felt it made him seem driven and motivated", "He thought that practical experience translated well to his factory", "He thought it made him less fit as an engineer", "He thought it was a bonus, but not necessary for the role"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Lexington and Manners?", "question_unique_id": "51362_RJHWV3IH_9", "options": ["Manners was familiar with Lexington prior to their first meeting and he was about how he expected based on that knowledge", "Lexington is unimpressed with Manners, but chooses to taunt him through a difficult discussion anyways", "They are meeting for the first time, and come to an understanding of each other that would be enough to maintain a working relationship", "Upon the first meeting they do not hit it off, but given a second chance they find they have the ability to work together"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/3/6/51362//51362-h//51362-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51150", "set_unique_id": "51150_WUSMNF3O", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Venus is a Man's World", "year": 1965, "author": "Tenn, William", "topic": "Mate selection -- Fiction; PS; Interplanetary voyages -- Fiction; Science fiction; Stowaways -- Fiction; Sex role -- Fiction", "article": "Venus Is a Man's World\nBY WILLIAM TENN\n\n\n Illustrated by GENE FAWCETTE\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction July 1951.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nActually, there wouldn't be too much difference if women took\n\n over the Earth altogether. But not for some men and most boys!\nI've always said that even if Sis is seven years older than me—and a\n girl besides—she don't always know what's best. Put me on a spaceship\n jam-packed with three hundred females just aching to get themselves\n husbands in the one place they're still to be had—the planet\n Venus—and you know I'll be in trouble.\n\n\n Bad trouble. With the law, which is the worst a boy can get into.\n\n\n Twenty minutes after we lifted from the Sahara Spaceport, I wriggled\n out of my acceleration hammock and started for the door of our cabin.\n\n\n \"Now you be careful, Ferdinand,\" Sis called after me as she opened a\n book called\nFamily Problems of the Frontier Woman\n. \"Remember you're\n a nice boy. Don't make me ashamed of you.\"\n\n\n I tore down the corridor. Most of the cabins had purple lights on in\n front of the doors, showing that the girls were still inside their\n hammocks. That meant only the ship's crew was up and about. Ship's\n crews are men; women are too busy with important things like government\n to run ships. I felt free all over—and happy. Now was my chance to\n really see the\nEleanor Roosevelt\n!\nIt was hard to believe I was traveling in space at last. Ahead and\n behind me, all the way up to where the companionway curved in out\n of sight, there was nothing but smooth black wall and smooth white\n doors—on and on and on.\nGee\n, I thought excitedly, this is\none big\n ship\n!\n\n\n Of course, every once in a while I would run across a big scene of\n stars in the void set in the wall; but they were only pictures. Nothing\n that gave the feel of great empty space like I'd read about in\nThe Boy\n Rocketeers\n, no portholes, no visiplates, nothing.\n\n\n So when I came to the crossway, I stopped for a second, then turned\n left. To the right, see, there was Deck Four, then Deck Three, leading\n inward past the engine fo'c'sle to the main jets and the grav helix\n going\npurr-purr-purrty-purr\nin the comforting way big machinery has\n when it's happy and oiled. But to the left, the crossway led all the\n way to the outside level which ran just under the hull. There were\n portholes on the hull.\n\n\n I'd studied all that out in our cabin, long before we'd lifted, on\n the transparent model of the ship hanging like a big cigar from the\n ceiling. Sis had studied it too, but she was looking for places like\n the dining salon and the library and Lifeboat 68 where we should go in\n case of emergency. I looked for the\nimportant\nthings.\n\n\n As I trotted along the crossway, I sort of wished that Sis hadn't\n decided to go after a husband on a luxury liner. On a cargo ship, now,\n I'd be climbing from deck to deck on a ladder instead of having gravity\n underfoot all the time just like I was home on the bottom of the Gulf\n of Mexico. But women always know what's right, and a boy can only make\n faces and do what they say, same as the men have to do.\n\n\n Still, it was pretty exciting to press my nose against the slots in the\n wall and see the sliding panels that could come charging out and block\n the crossway into an airtight fit in case a meteor or something smashed\n into the ship. And all along there were glass cases with spacesuits\n standing in them, like those knights they used to have back in the\n Middle Ages.\n\n\n \"In the event of disaster affecting the oxygen content of\n companionway,\" they had the words etched into the glass, \"break glass\n with hammer upon wall, remove spacesuit and proceed to don it in the\n following fashion.\"\n\n\n I read the \"following fashion\" until I knew it by heart.\nBoy\n, I said\n to myself,\nI hope we have that kind of disaster. I'd sure like to get\n into one of those! Bet it would be more fun than those diving suits\n back in Undersea!\nAnd all the time I was alone. That was the best part.\nThen I passed Deck Twelve and there was a big sign. \"Notice! Passengers\n not permitted past this point!\" A big sign in red.\n\n\n I peeked around the corner. I knew it—the next deck was the hull. I\n could see the portholes. Every twelve feet, they were, filled with the\n velvet of space and the dancing of more stars than I'd ever dreamed\n existed in the Universe.\n\n\n There wasn't anyone on the deck, as far as I could see. And this\n distance from the grav helix, the ship seemed mighty quiet and lonely.\n If I just took one quick look....\n\n\n But I thought of what Sis would say and I turned around obediently.\n Then I saw the big red sign again. \"Passengers not permitted—\"\n\n\n Well! Didn't I know from my civics class that only women could be Earth\n Citizens these days? Sure, ever since the Male Desuffrage Act. And\n didn't I know that you had to be a citizen of a planet in order to\n get an interplanetary passport? Sis had explained it all to me in the\n careful, patient way she always talks politics and things like that to\n men.\n\n\n \"Technically, Ferdinand, I'm the only passenger in our family. You\n can't be one, because, not being a citizen, you can't acquire an Earth\n Passport. However, you'll be going to Venus on the strength of this\n clause—'Miss Evelyn Sparling and all dependent male members of family,\n this number not to exceed the registered quota of sub-regulations\n pertaining'—and so on. I want you to understand these matters, so that\n you will grow into a man who takes an active interest in world affairs.\n No matter what you hear, women really like and appreciate such men.\"\n\n\n Of course, I never pay much attention to Sis when she says such dumb\n things. I'm old enough, I guess, to know that it isn't what\nWomen\nlike and appreciate that counts when it comes to people getting\n married. If it were, Sis and three hundred other pretty girls like her\n wouldn't be on their way to Venus to hook husbands.\n\n\n Still, if I wasn't a passenger, the sign didn't have anything to do\n with me. I knew what Sis could say to\nthat\n, but at least it was an\n argument I could use if it ever came up. So I broke the law.\n\n\n I was glad I did. The stars were exciting enough, but away off to\n the left, about five times as big as I'd ever seen it, except in the\n movies, was the Moon, a great blob of gray and white pockmarks holding\n off the black of space. I was hoping to see the Earth, but I figured it\n must be on the other side of the ship or behind us. I pressed my nose\n against the port and saw the tiny flicker of a spaceliner taking off,\n Marsbound. I wished I was on that one!\n\n\n Then I noticed, a little farther down the companionway, a stretch of\n blank wall where there should have been portholes. High up on the\n wall in glowing red letters were the words, \"Lifeboat 47. Passengers:\n Thirty-two. Crew: Eleven. Unauthorized personnel keep away!\"\n\n\n Another one of those signs.\nI crept up to the porthole nearest it and could just barely make out\n the stern jets where it was plastered against the hull. Then I walked\n under the sign and tried to figure the way you were supposed to get\n into it. There was a very thin line going around in a big circle that I\n knew must be the door. But I couldn't see any knobs or switches to open\n it with. Not even a button you could press.\n\n\n That meant it was a sonic lock like the kind we had on the outer keeps\n back home in Undersea. But knock or voice? I tried the two knock\n combinations I knew, and nothing happened. I only remembered one voice\n key—might as well see if that's it, I figured.\n\n\n \"Twenty, Twenty-three. Open Sesame.\"\n\n\n For a second, I thought I'd hit it just right out of all the million\n possible combinations—The door clicked inward toward a black hole, and\n a hairy hand as broad as my shoulders shot out of the hole. It closed\n around my throat and plucked me inside as if I'd been a baby sardine.\n\n\n I bounced once on the hard lifeboat floor. Before I got my breath and\n sat up, the door had been shut again. When the light came on, I found\n myself staring up the muzzle of a highly polished blaster and into the\n cold blue eyes of the biggest man I'd ever seen.\nHe was wearing a one-piece suit made of some scaly green stuff that\n looked hard and soft at the same time.\n\n\n His boots were made of it too, and so was the hood hanging down his\n back.\n\n\n And his face was brown. Not just ordinary tan, you understand, but the\n deep, dark, burned-all-the-way-in brown I'd seen on the lifeguards\n in New Orleans whenever we took a surface vacation—the kind of tan\n that comes from day after broiling day under a really hot Sun. His\n hair looked as if it had once been blond, but now there were just long\n combed-out waves with a yellowish tinge that boiled all the way down\n to his shoulders.\n\n\n I hadn't seen hair like that on a man except maybe in history books;\n every man I'd ever known had his hair cropped in the fashionable\n soup-bowl style. I was staring at his hair, almost forgetting about the\n blaster which I knew it was against the law for him to have at all,\n when I suddenly got scared right through.\n\n\n His eyes.\n\n\n They didn't blink and there seemed to be no expression around them.\n Just coldness. Maybe it was the kind of clothes he was wearing that did\n it, but all of a sudden I was reminded of a crocodile I'd seen in a\n surface zoo that had stared quietly at me for twenty minutes until it\n opened two long tooth-studded jaws.\n\n\n \"Green shatas!\" he said suddenly. \"Only a tadpole. I must be getting\n jumpy enough to splash.\"\n\n\n Then he shoved the blaster away in a holster made of the same scaly\n leather, crossed his arms on his chest and began to study me. I grunted\n to my feet, feeling a lot better. The coldness had gone out of his eyes.\n\n\n I held out my hand the way Sis had taught me. \"My name is Ferdinand\n Sparling. I'm very pleased to meet you, Mr.—Mr.—\"\n\n\n \"Hope for your sake,\" he said to me, \"that you aren't what you\n seem—tadpole brother to one of them husbandless anura.\"\n\n\n \"\nWhat?\n\"\n\n\n \"A 'nuran is a female looking to nest. Anura is a herd of same. Come\n from Flatfolk ways.\"\n\n\n \"Flatfolk are the Venusian natives, aren't they? Are you a Venusian?\n What part of Venus do you come from? Why did you say you hope—\"\n\n\n He chuckled and swung me up into one of the bunks that lined the\n lifeboat. \"Questions you ask,\" he said in his soft voice. \"Venus is a\n sharp enough place for a dryhorn, let alone a tadpole dryhorn with a\n boss-minded sister.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not a dryleg,\" I told him proudly. \"\nWe're\nfrom Undersea.\"\n\n\n \"\nDryhorn\n, I said, not dryleg. And what's Undersea?\"\n\n\n \"Well, in Undersea we called foreigners and newcomers drylegs. Just\n like on Venus, I guess, you call them dryhorns.\" And then I told him\n how Undersea had been built on the bottom of the Gulf of Mexico, when\n the mineral resources of the land began to give out and engineers\n figured that a lot could still be reached from the sea bottoms.\nHe nodded. He'd heard about the sea-bottom mining cities that were\n bubbling under protective domes in every one of the Earth's oceans just\n about the same time settlements were springing up on the planets.\n\n\n He looked impressed when I told him about Mom and Pop being one of the\n first couples to get married in Undersea. He looked thoughtful when I\n told him how Sis and I had been born there and spent half our childhood\n listening to the pressure pumps. He raised his eyebrows and looked\n disgusted when I told how Mom, as Undersea representative on the World\n Council, had been one of the framers of the Male Desuffrage Act after\n the Third Atomic War had resulted in the Maternal Revolution.\nHe almost squeezed my arm when I got to the time Mom and Pop were blown\n up in a surfacing boat.\n\n\n \"Well, after the funeral, there was a little money, so Sis decided we\n might as well use it to migrate. There was no future for her on Earth,\n she figured. You know, the three-out-of-four.\"\n\n\n \"How's that?\"\n\n\n \"The three-out-of-four. No more than three women out of every four on\n Earth can expect to find husbands. Not enough men to go around. Way\n back in the Twentieth Century, it began to be felt, Sis says, what with\n the wars and all. Then the wars went on and a lot more men began to die\n or get no good from the radioactivity. Then the best men went to the\n planets, Sis says, until by now even if a woman can scrounge a personal\n husband, he's not much to boast about.\"\n\n\n The stranger nodded violently. \"Not on Earth, he isn't. Those busybody\n anura make sure of that. What a place! Suffering gridniks, I had a\n bellyful!\"\n\n\n He told me about it. Women were scarce on Venus, and he hadn't been\n able to find any who were willing to come out to his lonely little\n islands; he had decided to go to Earth where there was supposed to be a\n surplus. Naturally, having been born and brought up on a very primitive\n planet, he didn't know \"it's a woman's world,\" like the older boys in\n school used to say.\n\n\n The moment he landed on Earth he was in trouble. He didn't know he had\n to register at a government-operated hotel for transient males; he\n threw a bartender through a thick plastic window for saying something\n nasty about the length of his hair; and\nimagine\n!—he not only\n resisted arrest, resulting in three hospitalized policemen, but he\n sassed the judge in open court!\n\n\n \"Told me a man wasn't supposed to say anything except through female\n attorneys. Told\nher\nthat where\nI\ncame from, a man spoke his piece\n when he'd a mind to, and his woman walked by his side.\"\n\n\n \"What happened?\" I asked breathlessly.\n\n\n \"Oh, Guilty of This and Contempt of That. That blown-up brinosaur took\n my last munit for fines, then explained that she was remitting the\n rest because I was a foreigner and uneducated.\" His eyes grew dark for\n a moment. He chuckled again. \"But I wasn't going to serve all those\n fancy little prison sentences. Forcible Citizenship Indoctrination,\n they call it? Shook the dead-dry dust of the misbegotten, God forsaken\n mother world from my feet forever. The women on it deserve their men.\n My pockets were folded from the fines, and the paddlefeet were looking\n for me so close I didn't dare radio for more munit. So I stowed away.\"\nFor a moment, I didn't understand him. When I did, I was almost ill.\n \"Y-you mean,\" I choked, \"th-that you're b-breaking the law right now?\n And I'm with you while you're doing it?\"\n\n\n He leaned over the edge of the bunk and stared at me very seriously.\n \"What breed of tadpole are they turning out these days? Besides, what\n business do\nyou\nhave this close to the hull?\"\n\n\n After a moment of sober reflection, I nodded. \"You're right. I've also\n become a male outside the law. We're in this together.\"\n\n\n He guffawed. Then he sat up and began cleaning his blaster. I found\n myself drawn to the bright killer-tube with exactly the fascination Sis\n insists such things have always had for men.\n\n\n \"Ferdinand your label? That's not right for a sprouting tadpole. I'll\n call you Ford. My name's Butt. Butt Lee Brown.\"\n\n\n I liked the sound of Ford. \"Is Butt a nickname, too?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah. Short for Alberta, but I haven't found a man who can draw a\n blaster fast enough to call me that. You see, Pop came over in the\n eighties—the big wave of immigrants when they evacuated Ontario. Named\n all us boys after Canadian provinces. I was the youngest, so I got the\n name they were saving for a girl.\"\n\n\n \"You had a lot of brothers, Mr. Butt?\"\n\n\n He grinned with a mighty set of teeth. \"Oh, a nestful. Of course, they\n were all killed in the Blue Chicago Rising by the MacGregor boys—all\n except me and Saskatchewan. Then Sas and me hunted the MacGregors down.\n Took a heap of time; we didn't float Jock MacGregor's ugly face down\n the Tuscany till both of us were pretty near grown up.\"\n\n\n I walked up close to where I could see the tiny bright copper coils of\n the blaster above the firing button. \"Have you killed a lot of men with\n that, Mr. Butt?\"\n\n\n \"Butt. Just plain Butt to you, Ford.\" He frowned and sighted at\n the light globe. \"No more'n twelve—not counting five government\n paddlefeet, of course. I'm a peaceable planter. Way I figure it,\n violence never accomplishes much that's important. My brother Sas,\n now—\"\nHe had just begun to work into a wonderful anecdote about his brother\n when the dinner gong rang. Butt told me to scat. He said I was a\n growing tadpole and needed my vitamins. And he mentioned, very\n off-hand, that he wouldn't at all object if I brought him some fresh\n fruit. It seemed there was nothing but processed foods in the lifeboat\n and Butt was used to a farmer's diet.\n\n\n Trouble was, he was a special kind of farmer. Ordinary fruit would have\n been pretty easy to sneak into my pockets at meals. I even found a way\n to handle the kelp and giant watercress Mr. Brown liked, but things\n like seaweed salt and Venusian mud-grapes just had too strong a smell.\n Twice, the mechanical hamper refused to accept my jacket for laundering\n and I had to wash it myself. But I learned so many wonderful things\n about Venus every time I visited that stowaway....\n\n\n I learned three wild-wave songs of the Flatfolk and what it is that the\n native Venusians hate so much; I learned how you tell the difference\n between a lousy government paddlefoot from New Kalamazoo and the\n slaptoe slinker who is the planter's friend. After a lot of begging,\n Butt Lee Brown explained the workings of his blaster, explained it\n so carefully that I could name every part and tell what it did from\n the tiny round electrodes to the long spirals of transformer. But no\n matter what, he would never let me hold it.\n\n\n \"Sorry, Ford, old tad,\" he would drawl, spinning around and around in\n the control swivel-chair at the nose of the lifeboat. \"But way I look\n at it, a man who lets somebody else handle his blaster is like the\n giant whose heart was in an egg that an enemy found. When you've grown\n enough so's your pop feels you ought to have a weapon, why, then's the\n time to learn it and you might's well learn fast. Before then, you're\n plain too young to be even near it.\"\n\n\n \"I don't have a father to give me one when I come of age. I don't even\n have an older brother as head of my family like your brother Labrador.\n All I have is Sis. And\nshe\n—\"\n\n\n \"She'll marry some fancy dryhorn who's never been farther South than\n the Polar Coast. And she'll stay head of the family, if I know her\n breed of green shata.\nBossy, opinionated.\nBy the way, Fordie,\" he\n said, rising and stretching so the fish-leather bounced and rippled off\n his biceps, \"that sister. She ever....\"\n\n\n And he'd be off again, cross-examining me about Evelyn. I sat in the\n swivel chair he'd vacated and tried to answer his questions. But there\n was a lot of stuff I didn't know. Evelyn was a healthy girl, for\n instance; how healthy, exactly, I had no way of finding out. Yes, I'd\n tell him, my aunts on both sides of my family each had had more than\n the average number of children. No, we'd never done any farming to\n speak of, back in Undersea, but—yes, I'd guess Evelyn knew about as\n much as any girl there when it came to diving equipment and pressure\n pump regulation.\n\n\n How would I know that stuff would lead to trouble for me?\nSis had insisted I come along to the geography lecture. Most of the\n other girls who were going to Venus for husbands talked to each other\n during the lecture, but not\nmy\nsister! She hung on every word, took\n notes even, and asked enough questions to make the perspiring purser\n really work in those orientation periods.\n\n\n \"I am very sorry, Miss Sparling,\" he said with pretty heavy sarcasm,\n \"but I cannot remember any of the agricultural products of the Macro\n Continent. Since the human population is well below one per thousand\n square miles, it can readily be understood that the quantity of\n tilled soil, land or sub-surface, is so small that—Wait, I remember\n something. The Macro Continent exports a fruit though not exactly an\n edible one. The wild\ndunging\ndrug is harvested there by criminal\n speculators. Contrary to belief on Earth, the traffic has been growing\n in recent years. In fact—\"\n\n\n \"Pardon me, sir,\" I broke in, \"but doesn't\ndunging\ncome only from\n Leif Erickson Island off the Moscow Peninsula of the Macro Continent?\n You remember, purser—Wang Li's third exploration, where he proved the\n island and the peninsula didn't meet for most of the year?\"\n\n\n The purser nodded slowly. \"I forgot,\" he admitted. \"Sorry, ladies, but\n the boy's right. Please make the correction in your notes.\"\n\n\n But Sis was the only one who took notes, and she didn't take that one.\n She stared at me for a moment, biting her lower lip thoughtfully, while\n I got sicker and sicker. Then she shut her pad with the final gesture\n of the right hand that Mom used to use just before challenging the\n opposition to come right down on the Council floor and debate it out\n with her.\n\n\n \"Ferdinand,\" Sis said, \"let's go back to our cabin.\"\n\n\n The moment she sat me down and walked slowly around me, I knew I was\n in for it. \"I've been reading up on Venusian geography in the ship's\n library,\" I told her in a hurry.\n\n\n \"No doubt,\" she said drily. She shook her night-black hair out. \"But\n you aren't going to tell me that you read about\ndunging\nin the ship's\n library. The books there have been censored by a government agent of\n Earth against the possibility that they might be read by susceptible\n young male minds like yours. She would not have allowed—this Terran\n Agent—\"\n\n\n \"Paddlefoot,\" I sneered.\n\n\n Sis sat down hard in our zoom-air chair. \"Now that's a term,\" she said\n carefully, \"that is used only by Venusian riffraff.\"\n\n\n \"They're not!\"\n\n\n \"Not what?\"\n\n\n \"Riffraff,\" I had to answer, knowing I was getting in deeper all the\n time and not being able to help it. I mustn't give Mr. Brown away!\n \"They're trappers and farmers, pioneers and explorers, who're building\n Venus. And it takes a real man to build on a hot, hungry hell like\n Venus.\"\n\n\n \"Does it, now?\" she said, looking at me as if I were beginning to grow\n a second pair of ears. \"Tell me more.\"\n\n\n \"You can't have meek, law-abiding, women-ruled men when you start\n civilization on a new planet. You've got to have men who aren't afraid\n to make their own law if necessary—with their own guns. That's where\n law begins; the books get written up later.\"\n\n\n \"You're going to\ntell\n, Ferdinand, what evil, criminal male is\n speaking through your mouth!\"\n\n\n \"Nobody!\" I insisted. \"They're my own ideas!\"\n\n\n \"They are remarkably well-organized for a young boy's ideas. A boy\n who, I might add, has previously shown a ridiculous but nonetheless\n entirely masculine boredom with political philosophy. I plan to have a\n government career on that new planet you talk about, Ferdinand—after\n I have found a good, steady husband, of course—and I don't look\n forward to a masculinist radical in the family. Now, who has been\n filling your head with all this nonsense?\"\nI was sweating. Sis has that deadly bulldog approach when she feels\n someone is lying. I pulled my pulpast handkerchief from my pocket to\n wipe my face. Something rattled to the floor.\n\n\n \"What is this picture of me doing in your pocket, Ferdinand?\"\n\n\n A trap seemed to be hinging noisily into place. \"One of the passengers\n wanted to see how you looked in a bathing suit.\"\n\n\n \"The passengers on this ship are all female. I can't imagine any of\n them that curious about my appearance. Ferdinand, it's a man who has\n been giving you these anti-social ideas, isn't it? A war-mongering\n masculinist like all the frustrated men who want to engage in\n government and don't have the vaguest idea how to. Except, of course,\n in their ancient, bloody ways. Ferdinand, who has been perverting that\n sunny and carefree soul of yours?\"\n\n\n \"Nobody!\nNobody!\n\"\n\n\n \"Ferdinand, there's no point in lying! I demand—\"\n\n\n \"I told you, Sis. I told you! And don't call me Ferdinand. Call me\n Ford.\"\n\n\n \"Ford?\nFord?\nNow, you listen to me, Ferdinand....\"\n\n\n After that it was all over but the confession. That came in a few\n moments. I couldn't fool Sis. She just knew me too well, I decided\n miserably. Besides, she was a girl.\n\n\n All the same, I wouldn't get Mr. Butt Lee Brown into trouble if I could\n help it. I made Sis promise she wouldn't turn him in if I took her to\n him. And the quick, nodding way she said she would made me feel just a\n little better.\n\n\n The door opened on the signal, \"Sesame.\" When Butt saw somebody was\n with me, he jumped and the ten-inch blaster barrel grew out of his\n fingers. Then he recognized Sis from the pictures.\n\n\n He stepped to one side and, with the same sweeping gesture, holstered\n his blaster and pushed his green hood off. It was Sis's turn to jump\n when she saw the wild mass of hair rolling down his back.\n\n\n \"An honor, Miss Sparling,\" he said in that rumbly voice. \"Please come\n right in. There's a hurry-up draft.\"\n\n\n So Sis went in and I followed right after her. Mr. Brown closed the\n door. I tried to catch his eye so I could give him some kind of hint or\n explanation, but he had taken a couple of his big strides and was in\n the control section with Sis. She didn't give ground, though; I'll say\n that for her. She only came to his chest, but she had her arms crossed\n sternly.\n\n\n \"First, Mr. Brown,\" she began, like talking to a cluck of a kid in\n class, \"you realize that you are not only committing the political\n crime of traveling without a visa, and the criminal one of stowing away\n without paying your fare, but the moral delinquency of consuming stores\n intended for the personnel of this ship solely in emergency?\"\nHe opened his mouth to its maximum width and raised an enormous hand.\n Then he let the air out and dropped his arm.\n\n\n \"I take it you either have no defense or care to make none,\" Sis added\n caustically.\n\n\n Butt laughed slowly and carefully as if he were going over each word.\n \"Wonder if all the anura talk like that. And\nyou\nwant to foul up\n Venus.\"\n\n\n \"We haven't done so badly on Earth, after the mess you men made of\n politics. It needed a revolution of the mothers before—\"\n\n\n \"Needed nothing. Everyone wanted peace. Earth is a weary old world.\"\n\n\n \"It's a world of strong moral fiber compared to yours, Mr. Alberta Lee\n Brown.\" Hearing his rightful name made him move suddenly and tower over\n her. Sis said with a certain amount of hurry and change of tone, \"What\ndo\nyou have to say about stowing away and using up lifeboat stores?\"\nHe cocked his head and considered a moment. \"Look,\" he said finally,\n \"I have more than enough munit to pay for round trip tickets, but I\n couldn't get a return visa because of that brinosaur judge and all\n the charges she hung on me. Had to stow away. Picked the\nEleanor\n Roosevelt\nbecause a couple of the boys in the crew are friends of mine\n and they were willing to help. But this lifeboat—don't you know that\n every passenger ship carries four times as many lifeboats as it needs?\n Not to mention the food I didn't eat because it stuck in my throat?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" she said bitterly. \"You had this boy steal fresh fruit for you.\n I suppose you didn't know that under space regulations that makes him\n equally guilty?\"\n\n\n \"No, Sis, he didn't,\" I was beginning to argue. \"All he wanted—\"\n\n\n \"Sure I knew. Also know that if I'm picked up as a stowaway, I'll be\n sent back to Earth to serve out those fancy little sentences.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you're guilty of them, aren't you?\"\n\n\n He waved his hands at her impatiently. \"I'm not talking law, female;\n I'm talking sense. Listen! I'm in trouble because I went to Earth to\n look for a wife. You're standing here right now because you're on your\n way to Venus for a husband. So let's.\"\n\n\n Sis actually staggered back. \"Let's? Let's\nwhat\n? Are—are you daring\n to suggest that—that—\"\n\n\n \"Now, Miss Sparling, no hoopla. I'm saying let's get married, and you\n know it. You figured out from what the boy told you that I was chewing\n on you for a wife. You're healthy and strong, got good heredity, you\n know how to operate sub-surface machinery, you've lived underwater, and\n your disposition's no worse than most of the anura I've seen. Prolific\n stock, too.\"\n\n\n I was so excited I just had to yell: \"Gee, Sis, say\nyes\n!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "How did Butt come aboard the spaceship?", "question_unique_id": "51150_WUSMNF3O_1", "options": ["His actions on Earth led him to be deported on the ship", "He had a fake passport", "He was able to travel freely between Earth and Venus", "He was assisted by unnamed parties"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What can be said about the security cameras on board the ship?", "question_unique_id": "51150_WUSMNF3O_2", "options": ["They were ineffectual or not present in some areas", "The publicly accessible security camera footage did Ferdinand in", "They were very accurate to have detected Ferdinand’s small figure slinking along the corridor walls", "They were equipped with facial recognition to detect stowaways"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many times does Ferdinand visit with Butt?", "question_unique_id": "51150_WUSMNF3O_3", "options": ["They only visit through a computer screen, never in person", "Once alone and once with his sister", "Many times over the journey", "Three times"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What seems to be the consensus on Earth towards who gets positions of power in the government?", "question_unique_id": "51150_WUSMNF3O_4", "options": ["There will be one government that controls all or Earth, to be filled equally with men and women", "An equal division in government leads to an appropriate amount of balance to avoid political disaster", "They are still trying to figure out the appropriate divisions", "Men had acted such a way in powerful positions that the planet had to remove them all from power in order to stop it from destroying itself"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Ferdinand relate to his sister?", "question_unique_id": "51150_WUSMNF3O_5", "options": ["He never keeps secrets from her and she trusts him completely because of it", "He feels close to her as a sibling, but yearns for a father figure", "He knows that she deliberately doesn’t teach him about politics to keep him naive", "He feels protective of her and she appreciates his consideration"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Butt view the people of Earth?", "question_unique_id": "51150_WUSMNF3O_6", "options": ["He can’t understand what they still live on the planet", "He thinks they would all do well to migrate to Venus to support their development", "He thinks they have a superior system to Venus", "He thinks the system is backwards to how he would like to live"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Ferdinand’s sister think of his interactions with Butt?", "question_unique_id": "51150_WUSMNF3O_7", "options": ["She was appreciative that he happened to find her the perfect husband she was looking for", "She was disgusted that her brother was indoctrinated with his opinions", "She preferred they could meet more openly, but supported them as new acquaintances", "She was supportive that he was making friends since she was soon to be married"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the relationship like between Ferdinand and the man from Venus?", "question_unique_id": "51150_WUSMNF3O_8", "options": ["Ferdinand never felt truly trusting of him, although he didn’t appear so outwardly", "The man from Venus was a crew member on the ship, so Ferdinand struck up conversation immediately to learn about the machinery", "Ferdinand was hungry for the companionship he provided and this was reciprocated", "The man from Venus lured Ferdinand into meeting with him"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/1/5/51150//51150-h//51150-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51274", "set_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Ambition", "year": 1966, "author": "Bade, William L.", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; Time travel -- Fiction; PS", "article": "AMBITION\nBy WILLIAM L. BADE\n\n\n Illustrated by L. WOROMAY\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction October 1951.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nTo the men of the future, the scientific\n\n goals of today were as incomprehensible\n\n as the ancient quest for the Holy Grail!\nThere was a thump. Maitland stirred, came half awake, and opened his\n eyes. The room was dark except where a broad shaft of moonlight from\n the open window fell on the foot of his bed. Outside, the residential\n section of the Reservation slept silently under the pale illumination\n of the full Moon. He guessed sleepily that it was about three o'clock.\n\n\n What had he heard? He had a definite impression that the sound had come\n from within the room. It had sounded like someone stumbling into a\n chair, or—\n\n\n Something moved in the darkness on the other side of the room. Maitland\n started to sit up and it was as though a thousand volts had shorted his\n brain....\n\n\n This time, he awoke more normally. He opened his eyes, looked through\n the window at a section of azure sky, listened to the singing of birds\n somewhere outside. A beautiful day. In the middle of the process of\n stretching his rested muscles, arms extended back, legs tensed, he\n froze, looking up—for the first time really seeing the ceiling. He\n turned his head, then rolled off the bed, wide awake.\nThis wasn't his room!\nThe lawn outside wasn't part of the Reservation! Where the labs and\n the shops should have been, there was deep prairie grass, then a green\n ocean pushed into waves by the breeze stretching to the horizon. This\n wasn't the California desert! Down the hill, where the liquid oxygen\n plant ought to have been, a river wound across the scene, almost hidden\n beneath its leafy roof of huge ancient trees.\n\n\n Shock contracted Maitland's diaphragm and spread through his body.\n His breathing quickened.\nNow\nhe remembered what had happened during\n the night, the sound in the darkness, the dimly seen figure, and\n then—what? Blackout....\n\n\n Where was he? Who had brought him here? For what purpose?\n\n\n He thought he knew the answer to the last of those questions. As\n a member of the original atomic reaction-motor team, he possessed\n information that other military powers would very much like to obtain.\n It was absolutely incredible that anyone had managed to abduct him from\n the heavily guarded confines of the Reservation, yet someone had done\n it. How?\nHe pivoted to inspect the room. Even before his eyes could take in\n the details, he had the impression that there was something wrong\n about it. To begin with, the style was unfamiliar. There were no\n straight lines or sharp corners anywhere. The walls were paneled in\n featureless blue plastic and the doors were smooth surfaces of metal,\n half ellipses, without knobs. The flowing lines of the chair and table,\n built apparently from an aluminum alloy, somehow gave the impression\n of arrested motion. Even after allowances were made for the outlandish\n design, something about the room still was not right.\n\n\n His eyes returned to the doors, and he moved over to study the nearer\n one. As he had noticed, there was no knob, but at the right of this\n one, at about waist level, a push-button projected out of the wall. He\n pressed it; the door slid aside and disappeared. Maitland glanced in at\n the disclosed bathroom, then went over to look at the other door.\n\n\n There was no button beside this one, nor any other visible means of\n causing it to open.\n\n\n Baffled, he turned again and looked at the large open window—and\n realized what it was that had made the room seem so queer.\n\n\n It did not look like a jail cell. There were no bars....\n\n\n Striding across the room, he lunged forward to peer out and violently\n banged his forehead. He staggered back, grimacing with pain, then\n reached forward cautious fingers and discovered a hard sheet of stuff\n so transparent that he had not even suspected its presence. Not glass!\n Glass was never this clear or strong. A plastic, no doubt, but one he\n hadn't heard of. Security sometimes had disadvantages.\n\n\n He looked out at the peaceful vista of river and prairie. The character\n of the sunlight seemed to indicate that it was afternoon. He became\n aware that he was hungry.\n\n\n Where the devil could this place be? And—muscles tightened about his\n empty stomach—what was in store for him here?\n\n\n He stood trembling, acutely conscious that he was afraid and helpless,\n until a flicker of motion at the bottom of the hill near the river drew\n his attention. Pressing his nose against the window, he strained his\n eyes to see what it was.\n\n\n A man and a woman were coming toward him up the hill. Evidently they\n had been swimming, for each had a towel; the man's was hung around his\n neck, and the woman was still drying her bobbed black hair.\n\n\n Maitland speculated on the possibility that this might be Sweden; he\n didn't know of any other country where public bathing at this time\n of year was customary. However, that prairie certainly didn't look\n Scandinavian....\n\n\n As they came closer, he saw that both of them had dark uniform suntans\n and showed striking muscular development, like persons who had trained\n for years with weights. They vanished below his field of view,\n presumably into the building.\n\n\n He sat down on the edge of the cot and glared helplessly at the floor.\nAbout half an hour later, the door he couldn't open slid aside into the\n wall. The man Maitland had seen outside, now clad in gray trunks and\n sandals, stood across the threshold looking in at him. Maitland stood\n up and stared back, conscious suddenly that in his rumpled pajamas he\n made an unimpressive figure.\n\n\n The fellow looked about forty-five. The first details Maitland noticed\n were the forehead, which was quite broad, and the calm, clear eyes.\n The dark hair, white at the temples, was combed back, still damp from\n swimming. Below, there was a wide mouth and a firm, rounded chin.\n\n\n This man was intelligent, Maitland decided, and extremely sure of\n himself.\n\n\n Somehow, the face didn't go with the rest of him. The man had the head\n of a thinker, the body of a trained athlete—an unusual combination.\n\n\n Impassively, the man said, \"My name is Swarts. You want to know where\n you are. I am not going to tell you.\" He had an accent, European, but\n otherwise unidentifiable. Possibly German. Maitland opened his mouth\n to protest, but Swarts went on, \"However, you're free to do all the\n guessing you want.\" Still there was no suggestion of a smile.\n\n\n \"Now, these are the rules. You'll be here for about a week. You'll have\n three meals a day, served in this room. You will not be allowed to\n leave it except when accompanied by myself. You will not be harmed in\n any way, provided you cooperate. And you can forget the silly idea that\n we want your childish secrets about rocket motors.\" Maitland's heart\n jumped. \"My reason for bringing you here is altogether different. I\n want to give you some psychological tests....\"\n\n\n \"Are you crazy?\" Maitland asked quietly. \"Do you realize that at this\n moment one of the greatest hunts in history must be going on? I'll\n admit I'm baffled as to where we are and how you got me here—but it\n seems to me that you could have found someone less conspicuous to give\n your tests to.\"\n\n\n Briefly, then, Swarts did smile. \"They won't find you,\" he said. \"Now,\n come with me.\"\nAfter that outlandish cell, Swarts' laboratory looked rather\n commonplace. There was something like a surgical cot in the center, and\n a bench along one wall supported several electronics cabinets. A couple\n of them had cathode ray tube screens, and they all presented a normal\n complement of meters, pilot lights, and switches. Cables from them ran\n across the ceiling and came to a focus above the high flat cot in the\n center of the room.\n\n\n \"Lie down,\" Swarts said. When Maitland hesitated, Swarts added,\n \"Understand one thing—the more you cooperate, the easier things will\n be for you. If necessary, I will use coercion. I can get all my results\n against your will, if I must. I would prefer not to. Please don't make\n me.\"\n\n\n \"What's the idea?\" Maitland asked. \"What is all this?\"\n\n\n Swarts hesitated, though not, Maitland astonishedly felt, to evade an\n answer, but to find the proper words. \"You can think of it as a lie\n detector. These instruments will record your reactions to the tests I\n give you. That is as much as you need to know. Now lie down.\"\n\n\n Maitland stood there for a moment, deliberately relaxing his tensed\n muscles. \"Make me.\"\n\n\n If Swarts was irritated, he didn't show it. \"That was the first test,\"\n he said. \"Let me put it another way. I would appreciate it a lot if\n you'd lie down on this cot. I would like to test my apparatus.\"\n\n\n Maitland shook his head stubbornly.\n\n\n \"I see,\" Swarts said. \"You want to find out what you're up against.\"\n\n\n He moved so fast that Maitland couldn't block the blow. It was to the\n solar plexus, just hard enough to double him up, fighting for breath.\n He felt an arm under his back, another behind his knees. Then he was on\n the cot. When he was able to breathe again, there were straps across\n his chest, hips, knees, ankles, and arms, and Swarts was tightening a\n clamp that held his head immovable.\nPresently, a number of tiny electrodes were adhering to his temples and\n to other portions of his body, and a minute microphone was clinging to\n the skin over his heart. These devices terminated in cables that hung\n from the ceiling. A sphygmomanometer sleeve was wrapped tightly around\n his left upper arm, its rubber tube trailing to a small black box\n clamped to the frame of the cot. Another cable left the box and joined\n the others.\n\n\n So—Maitland thought—Swarts could record changes in his skin\n potential, heartbeat, and blood pressure: the involuntary responses of\n the body to stimuli.\n\n\n The question was, what were the stimuli to be?\n\n\n \"Your name,\" said Swarts, \"is Robert Lee Maitland. You are thirty-four\n years old. You are an engineer, specialty heat transfer, particularly\n as applied to rocket motors.... No, Mr. Maitland, I'm not going to\n question you about your work; just forget about it. Your home town is\n Madison, Wisconsin....\"\n\n\n \"You seem to know everything about me,\" Maitland said defiantly,\n looking up into the hanging forest of cabling. \"Why this recital?\"\n\n\n \"I do not know everything about you—yet. And I'm testing the\n equipment, calibrating it to your reactions.\" He went on, \"Your\n favorite recreations are chess and reading what you term science\n fiction. Maitland,\nhow would you like to go to the Moon\n?\"\n\n\n Something eager leaped in Maitland's breast at the abrupt question, and\n he tried to turn his head. Then he forced himself to relax. \"What do\n you mean?\"\n\n\n Swarts was chuckling. \"I really hit a semantic push-button there,\n didn't I? Maitland, I brought you here because you're a man who wants\n to go to the Moon. I'm interested in finding out\nwhy\n.\"\nIn the evening a girl brought Maitland his meal. As the door slid\n aside, he automatically stood up, and they stared at each other for\n several seconds.\n\n\n She had the high cheekbones and almond eyes of an Oriental, skin that\n glowed like gold in the evening light, yet thick coiled braids of\n blonde hair that glittered like polished brass. Shorts and a sleeveless\n blouse of some thick, reddish, metallic-looking fabric clung to her\n body, and over that she was wearing a light, ankle-length cloak of what\n seemed to be white wool.\n\n\n She was looking at him with palpable curiosity and something like\n expectancy. Maitland sighed and said, \"Hello,\" then glanced down\n self-consciously at his wrinkled green pajamas.\nShe smiled, put the tray of food on the table, and swept out, her cloak\n billowing behind her. Maitland remained standing, staring at the closed\n door for a minute after she was gone.\n\n\n Later, when he had finished the steak and corn on the cob and shredded\n carrots, and a feeling of warm well-being was diffusing from his\n stomach to his extremities, he sat down on the bed to watch the sunset\n and to think.\n\n\n There were three questions for which he required answers before he\n could formulate any plan or policy.\n\n\n Where was he?\n\n\n Who was Swarts?\n\n\n What was the purpose of the \"tests\" he was being given?\n\n\n It was possible, of course, that this was all an elaborate scheme\n for getting military secrets, despite Swarts' protestations to the\n contrary. Maitland frowned. This place certainly didn't have the\n appearance of a military establishment, and so far there had been\n nothing to suggest the kind of interrogation to be expected from\n foreign intelligence officers.\n\n\n It might be better to tackle the first question first. He looked at\n the Sun, a red spheroid already half below the horizon, and tried to\n think of a region that had this kind of terrain. That prairie out there\n was unique. Almost anywhere in the world, land like that would be\n cultivated, not allowed to go to grass.\n\n\n This might be somewhere in Africa....\n\n\n He shook his head, puzzled. The Sun disappeared and its blood-hued\n glow began to fade from the sky. Maitland sat there, trying to get\n hold of the problem from an angle where it wouldn't just slip away.\n After a while the western sky became a screen of clear luminous blue,\n a backdrop for a pure white brilliant star. As always at that sight,\n Maitland felt his worry drain away, leaving an almost mystical sense of\n peace and an undefinable longing.\n\n\n Venus, the most beautiful of the planets.\n\n\n Maitland kept track of them all in their majestic paths through the\n constellations, but Venus was his favorite. Time and time again he\n had watched its steady climb higher and higher in the western sky,\n its transient rule there as evening star, its progression toward the\n horizon, and loved it equally in its\nalter ego\nof morning star. Venus\n was an old friend. An old friend....\n\n\n Something icy settled on the back of his neck, ran down his spine, and\n diffused into his body. He stared at the planet unbelievingly, fists\n clenched, forgetting to breathe.\n\n\n Last night Venus hadn't been there.\n\n\n Venus was a morning star just now....\nJust now!\nHe realized the truth in that moment.\nLater, when that jewel of a planet had set and the stars were out,\n he lay on the bed, still warm with excitement and relief. He didn't\n have to worry any more about military secrets, or who Swarts was.\n Those questions were irrelevant now. And now he could accept the\n psychological tests at their face value; most likely, they were what\n they purported to be.\n\n\n Only one question of importance remained:\n\n\n What year was this?\n\n\n He grimaced in the darkness, an involuntary muscular expression of\n jubilation and excitement. The\nfuture\n! Here was the opportunity for\n the greatest adventure imaginable to 20th Century man.\n\n\n Somewhere, out there under the stars, there must be grand glittering\n cities and busy spaceports, roaring gateways to the planets.\n Somewhere, out there in the night, there must be men who had walked\n beside the Martian canals and pierced the shining cloud mantle of\n Venus—somewhere, perhaps, men who had visited the distant luring stars\n and returned. Surely, a civilization that had developed time travel\n could reach the stars!\n\n\n And\nhe\nhad a chance to become a part of all that! He could spend\n his life among the planets, a citizen of deep space, a voyager of the\n challenging spaceways between the solar worlds.\n\n\n \"I'm adaptable,\" he told himself gleefully. \"I can learn fast. There'll\n be a job for me out there....\"\nIf—\nSuddenly sobered, he rolled over and put his feet on the floor, sat\n in the darkness thinking. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he would have to find a\n way of breaking down Swarts' reticence. He would have to make the man\n realize that secrecy wasn't necessary in this case. And if Swarts still\n wouldn't talk, he would have to find a way of forcing the issue. The\n fellow had said that he didn't need cooperation to get his results,\n but—\n\n\n After a while Maitland smiled to himself and went back to bed.\nHe woke in the morning with someone gently shaking his shoulder. He\n rolled over and looked up at the girl who had brought him his meal the\n evening before. There was a tray on the table and he sniffed the smell\n of bacon. The girl smiled at him. She was dressed as before, except\n that she had discarded the white cloak.\n\n\n As he swung his legs to the floor, she started toward the door,\n carrying the tray with the dirty dishes from yesterday. He stopped her\n with the word, \"Miss!\"\n\n\n She turned, and he thought there was something eager in her face.\n\n\n \"Miss, do you speak my language?\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" hesitantly. She lingered too long on the hiss of the last\n consonant.\n\n\n \"Miss,\" he asked, watching her face intently, \"what year is this?\"\n\n\n Startlingly, she laughed, a mellow peal of mirth that had nothing\n forced about it. She turned toward the door again and said over her\n shoulder, \"You will have to ask Swarts about that. I cannot tell you.\"\n\n\n \"Wait! You mean you don't know?\"\n\n\n She shook her head. \"I cannot tell you.\"\n\n\n \"All right; we'll let it go at that.\"\n\n\n She grinned at him again as the door slid shut.\nSwarts came half an hour later, and Maitland began his planned\n offensive.\n\n\n \"What year is this?\"\n\n\n Swarts' steely eyes locked with his. \"You know what the date is,\" he\n stated.\n\n\n \"No, I don't. Not since yesterday.\"\n\n\n \"Come on,\" Swarts said patiently, \"let's get going. We have a lot to\n get through this morning.\"\n\n\n \"I\nknow\nthis isn't 1950. It's probably not even the 20th Century.\n Venus was a morning star before you brought me here. Now it's an\n evening star.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind that. Come.\"\n\n\n Wordlessly, Maitland climbed to his feet, preceded Swarts to the\n laboratory, lay down and allowed him to fasten the straps and attach\n the instruments, making no resistance at all. When Swarts started\n saying a list of words—doubtlessly some sort of semantic reaction\n test—Maitland began the job of integrating \"csc\n 3\n x dx\" in his head.\n It was a calculation which required great concentration and frequent\n tracing back of steps. After several minutes, he noticed that Swarts\n had stopped calling words. He opened his eyes to find the other man\n standing over him, looking somewhat exasperated and a little baffled.\n\n\n \"What year is this?\" Maitland asked in a conversational tone.\n\n\n \"We'll try another series of tests.\"\n\n\n It took Swarts nearly twenty minutes to set up the new apparatus. He\n lowered a bulky affair with two cylindrical tubes like the twin stacks\n of a binocular microscope over Maitland's head, so that the lenses at\n the ends of the tubes were about half an inch from the engineer's\n eyes. He attached tiny clamps to Maitland's eyelashes.\n\n\n \"These will keep you from holding your eyes shut,\" he said. \"You can\n blink, but the springs are too strong for you to hold your eyelids down\n against the tension.\"\n\n\n He inserted button earphones into Maitland's ears—\n\n\n And then the show began.\n\n\n He was looking at a door in a partly darkened room, and there were\n footsteps outside, a peremptory knocking. The door flew open,\n and outlined against the light of the hall, he saw a man with a\n twelve-gauge shotgun. The man shouted, \"Now I've got you, you\n wife-stealer!\" He swung the shotgun around and pulled the trigger.\n There was a terrible blast of sound and the flash of smokeless\n powder—then blackness.\n\n\n With a deliberate effort, Maitland unclenched his fists and tried to\n slow his breathing. Some kind of emotional reaction test—what was the\n countermove? He closed his eyes, but shortly the muscles around them\n declared excruciatingly that they couldn't keep that up.\n\n\n Now he was looking at a girl. She....\n\n\n Maitland gritted his teeth and fought to use his brain; then he had it.\n\n\n He thought of a fat slob of a bully who had beaten him up one day\n after school. He remembered a talk he had heard by a politician who had\n all the intelligent social responsibility of a rogue gorilla, but no\n more. He brooded over the damnable stupidity and short-sightedness of\n Swarts in standing by his silly rules and not telling him about this\n new world.\n\n\n Within a minute, he was in an ungovernable rage. His muscles tightened\n against the restraining straps. He panted, sweat came out on his\n forehead, and he began to curse. Swarts! How he hated....\n\n\n The scene was suddenly a flock of sheep spread over a green hillside.\n There was blood hammering in Maitland's temples. His face felt hot and\n swollen and he writhed against the restraint of the straps.\n\n\n The scene disappeared, the lenses of the projector retreated from his\n eyes and Swarts was standing over him, white-lipped. Maitland swore at\n him for a few seconds, then relaxed and smiled weakly. His head was\n starting to ache from the effort of blinking.\n\n\n \"What year is this?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"All right,\" Swarts said. \"A.D. 2634.\"\n\n\n Maitland's smile became a grin.\n\"I really haven't the time to waste talking irrelevancies,\" Swarts said\n a while later. \"Honestly. Maitland, I'm working against a time limit.\n If you'll cooperate, I'll tell Ching to answer your questions.\"'\n\n\n \"Ching?\"\n\n\n \"Ingrid Ching is the girl who has been bringing you your meals.\"\n\n\n Maitland considered a moment, then nodded. Swarts lowered the projector\n to his eyes again, and this time the engineer did not resist.\n\n\n That evening, he could hardly wait for her to come. Too excited to sit\n and watch the sunset, he paced interminably about the room, sometimes\n whistling nervously, snapping his fingers, sitting down and jittering\n one leg. After a while he noticed that he was whistling the same theme\n over and over: a minute's thought identified it as that exuberant\n mounting phrase which recurs in the finale of Beethoven's Ninth\n Symphony.\n\n\n He forgot about it and went on whistling. He was picturing himself\n aboard a ship dropping in toward Mars, making planetfall at Syrtis\n Major; he was seeing visions of Venus and the awesome beauty of Saturn.\n In his mind, he circled the Moon, and viewed the Earth as a huge bright\n globe against the constellations....\n\n\n Finally the door slid aside and she appeared, carrying the usual tray\n of food. She smiled at him, making dimples in her golden skin and\n revealing a perfect set of teeth, and put the tray on the table.\n\n\n \"I think you are wonderful,\" she laughed. \"You get everything you\n want, even from Swarts, and I have not been able to get even a little\n of what I want from him. I want to travel in time, go back to your 20th\n Century. And I wanted to talk with you, and he would not let me.\" She\n laughed again, hands on her rounded hips. \"I have never seen him so\n irritated as he was this noon.\"\n\n\n Maitland urged her into the chair and sat down on the edge of the bed.\n Eagerly he asked, \"Why the devil do you want to go to the 20th Century?\n Believe me, I've been there, and what I've seen of this world looks a\n lot better.\"\n\n\n She shrugged. \"Swarts says that I want to go back to the Dark Age of\n Technology because I have not adapted well to modern culture. Myself,\n I think I have just a romantic nature. Far times and places look more\n exciting....\"\n\n\n \"How do you mean—\" Maitland wrinkled his brow—\"adapt to modern\n culture? Don't tell me\nyou're\nfrom another time!\"\n\n\n \"Oh, no! But my home is Aresund, a little fishing village at the head\n of a fiord in what you would call Norway. So far north, we are much\n behind the times. We live in the old way, from the sea, speak the old\n tongue.\"\nHe looked at her golden features, such a felicitous blend of\n Oriental and European characteristics, and hesitantly asked, \"Maybe\n I shouldn't.... This is a little personal, but ... you don't look\n altogether like the Norwegians of my time.\"\n\n\n His fear that she would be offended proved to be completely\n unjustified. She merely laughed and said, \"There has been much\n history since 1950. Five hundred years ago, Europe was overrun by\n Pan-Orientals. Today you could not find anywhere a 'pure' European\n or Asiatic.\" She giggled. \"Swarts' ancestors from your time must be\n cursing in their graves. His family is Afrikander all the way back, but\n one of his great-grandfathers was pure-blooded Bantu. His full name is\n Lassisi Swarts.\"\n\n\n Maitland wrinkled his brow. \"Afrikander?\"\n\n\n \"The South Africans.\" Something strange came into her eyes. It might\n have been awe, or even hatred; he could not tell. \"The Pan-Orientals\n eventually conquered all the world, except for North America—the\n last remnant of the American World Empire—and southern Africa. The\n Afrikanders had been partly isolated for several centuries then, and\n they had developed technology while the rest of the world lost it. They\n had a tradition of white supremacy, and in addition they were terrified\n of being encircled.\" She sighed. \"They ruled the next world empire and\n it was founded on the slaughter of one and a half billion human beings.\n That went into the history books as the War of Annihilation.\"\n\n\n \"So many? How?\"\n\n\n \"They were clever with machines, the Afrikanders. They made armies\n of them. Armies of invincible killing-machines, produced in robot\n factories from robot-mined ores.... Very clever.\" She gave a little\n shudder.\n\n\n \"And yet they founded modern civilization,\" she added. \"The grandsons\n of the technicians who built the Machine Army set up our robot\n production system, and today no human being has to dirty his hands\n raising food or manufacturing things. It could never have been done,\n either, before the population was—reduced to three hundred million.\"\n\n\n \"Then the Afrikanders are still on top? Still the masters?\"\nShe shook her head. \"There are no more Afrikanders.\"\n\n\n \"Rebellion?\"\n\n\n \"No. Intermarriage. Racial blending. There was a psychology of guilt\n behind it. So huge a crime eventually required a proportionate\n expiation. Afrikaans is still the world language, but there is only one\n race now. No more masters or slaves.\"\n\n\n They were both silent for a moment, and then she sighed. \"Let us not\n talk about them any more.\"\n\n\n \"Robot factories and farms,\" Maitland mused. \"What else? What means of\n transportation? Do you have interstellar flight yet?\"\n\n\n \"Inter-what?\"\n\n\n \"Have men visited the stars?\"\n\n\n She shook her head, bewildered.\n\n\n \"I always thought that would be a tough problem to crack,\" he agreed.\n \"But tell me about what men are doing in the Solar System. How is life\n on Mars and Venus, and how long does it take to get to those places?\"\n\n\n He waited, expectantly silent, but she only looked puzzled. \"I don't\n understand. Mars? What are Mars?\"\n\n\n After several seconds, Maitland swallowed. Something seemed to be the\n matter with his throat, making it difficult for him to speak. \"Surely\n you have space travel?\"\n\n\n She frowned and shook her head. \"What does that mean—space travel?\"\n\n\n He was gripping the edge of the bed now, glaring at her. \"A\n civilization that could discover time travel and build robot factories\n wouldn't find it hard to send a ship to Mars!\"\n\n\n \"A\nship\n? Oh, you mean something like a\nvliegvlotter\n. Why, no, I\n don't suppose it would be hard. But why would anyone want to do a\n thing like that?\"\n\n\n He was on his feet towering over her, fists clenched. She raised her\n arms as if to shield her face if he should hit her. \"Let's get this\n perfectly clear,\" he said, more harshly than he realized. \"So far as\n you know, no one has ever visited the planets, and no one wants to. Is\n that right?\"\n\n\n She nodded apprehensively. \"I have never heard of it being done.\"\n\n\n He sank down on the bed and put his face in his hands. After a while he\n looked up and said bitterly, \"You're looking at a man who would give\n his life to get to Mars. I thought I would in my time. I was positive I\n would when I knew I was in your time. And now I know I never will.\"\nThe cot creaked beside him and he felt a soft arm about his shoulders\n and fingers delicately stroking his brow. Presently he opened his eyes\n and looked at her. \"I just don't understand,\" he said. \"It seemed\n obvious to me that whenever men were able to reach the planets, they'd\n do it.\"\n\n\n Her pitying eyes were on his face. He hitched himself around so that he\n was facing her. \"I've got to understand. I've got to know\nwhy\n. What\n happened? Why don't men want the planets any more?\"\n\n\n \"Honestly,\" she said, \"I did not know they ever had.\" She hesitated.\n \"Maybe you are asking the wrong question.\"\n\n\n He furrowed his brow, bewildered now by her.\n\n\n \"I mean,\" she explained, \"maybe you should ask why people in the 20th\n Century\ndid\nwant to go to worlds men are not suited to inhabit.\"\n\n\n Maitland felt his face become hot. \"Men can go anywhere, if they want\n to bad enough.\"\n\n\n \"But\nwhy\n?\"\n\n\n Despite his sudden irrational anger toward her, Maitland tried to stick\n to logic. \"Living space, for one thing. The only permanent solution to\n the population problem....\"\n\n\n \"We have no population problem. A hundred years ago, we realized that\n the key to social stability is a limited population. Our economic\n system was built to take care of three hundred million people, and we\n have held the number at that.\"\n\n\n \"Birth control,\" Maitland scoffed. \"How do you make it work—secret\n police?\"\n\n\n \"No. Education. Each of us has the right to two children, and we\n cherish that right so much that we make every effort to see that those\n two are the best children we could possibly produce....\"\n\n\n She broke off, looking a little self-conscious. \"You understand, what\n I have been saying applies to\nmost\nof the world. In some places like\n Aresund, things are different. Backward. I still do not feel that I\n belong here, although the people of the town have accepted me as one of\n them.\"\n\n\n \"Even,\" he said, \"granting that you have solved the population problem,\n there's still the adventure of the thing. Surely, somewhere, there must\n be men who still feel that.... Ingrid, doesn't it fire something in\n your blood, the idea of going to Mars—just to go there and see what's\n there and walk under a new sky and a smaller Sun? Aren't you interested\n in finding out what the canals are? Or what's under the clouds of\n Venus? Wouldn't you like to see the rings of Saturn from, a distance\n of only two hundred thousand miles?\" His hands were trembling as he\n stopped.\n\n\n She shrugged her shapely shoulders. \"Go into the past—yes! But go out\n there? I still cannot see why.\"\n\n\n \"Has the spirit of adventure\nevaporated\nfrom the human race, or\nwhat\n?\"\n\n\n She smiled. \"In a room downstairs there is the head of a lion. Swarts\n killed the beast when he was a young man. He used a spear. And time\n traveling is the greatest adventure there is. At least, that is the\n way I feel. Listen, Bob.\" She laid a hand on his arm. \"You grew up in\n the Age of Technology. Everybody was terribly excited about what could\n be done with machines—machines to blow up a city all at once, or fly\n around the world, or take a man to Mars. We have had our fill of—what\n is the word?—gadgets. Our machines serve us, and so long as they\n function right, we are satisfied to forget about them.\n\n\n \"Because this is the Age of\nMan\n. We are terribly interested in what\n can be done with people. Our scientists, like Swarts, are studying\n human rather than nuclear reactions. We are much more fascinated by the\n life and death of cultures than by the expansion or contraction of the\n Universe. With us, it is the people that are important, not gadgets.\"\n\n\n Maitland stared at her, his face blank. His mind had just manufactured\n a discouraging analogy. His present position was like that of an\n earnest 12th Century crusader, deposited by some freak of nature into\n the year 1950, trying to find a way of reanimating the anti-Mohammedan\n movement. What chance would he have? The unfortunate knight would argue\n in vain that the atomic bomb offered a means of finally destroying the\n infidel....\n\n\n Maitland looked up at the girl, who was regarding him silently with\n troubled eyes. \"I think I'd like to be alone for a while,\" he said.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does Maitland think when he is finally told where he is?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_1", "options": ["He is angry to find out that time travel is not yet possible", "He is thrilled because he did not know space travel was possible", "He suspected it all along", "He is surprised that the world is so developed in the surrounding area"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many times was Maitland taken into the testing room during the story?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_2", "options": ["Once", "Once, and then another session of testing within his own personal room", "Never", "Twice"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Maitland feel he needed to be left alone at the end of the story?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_3", "options": ["He could not relate to Ingrid and Swarts anymore", "Ingrid had offended him", "He had all the information he needed to return home, but just need discreet alone time to send himself home", "He needed to process his disappointment"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was Maitland’s discovery about where he was taken?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_4", "options": ["He was in South Africa", "It was not at all what he had expected for the place", "He was on one of Venus’ moons", "He was on another planet"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the relationship like between Ingrid and Maitland?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_5", "options": ["Maitland struggled to speak Ingrid’s language, but they were able to communication effectively with gesturing and broken speech", "Maitland was curious about Ingrid and her background, but she was sworn to not speak with him so they never talked", "Ingrid was quite afraid of Maitland because she herself came from the same upbringing", "They got along very well from the start and learned many things from each other"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What history lesson did Ingrid teach Maitland?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_6", "options": ["The planet was racially divided to this day", "South Africa was very successful at developing technology", "There was an event that made North America inhospitable that Maitland was evacuated from due to his value", "Swarts’ motivation for space travel fueled a space-race"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What realization informs Maitland as to where he has been taken?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_7", "options": ["Recognizing the botany and geography out his window", "Objects in the sky", "Ingrid’s explanation of geography", "Swarts' accent and mannerisms"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the nature of Swarts’ research?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_8", "options": ["Understanding cognitive functioning of astro-physicists", "Understanding thought processes of people with desire to travel to Earth’s moon", "Determining how to spark desire for space travel in the population", "Stealing military secrets"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the relationship like between Maitland and Swarts over the course of the story?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_9", "options": ["Swarts never really allowed himself to be known by Maitland", "Maitland doesn’t believe Swarts is telling the truth about where he is", "Maitland suspected it was Swarts that had kidnapped him, and he trusted that no harm would be done to him", "They did not get along at first, but Maitland come to understand Swarts much better and even empathize with what he had to do"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Maitland suspect that he was taken?", "question_unique_id": "51274_A9WCJN4U_10", "options": ["His kidnappers had wrongly thought of him as a rich person", "He was representative of the location he was kidnapped from and needed to speak for his community", "He was found out as an American spy", "Because he had special knowledge of engine mechanics"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0037", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0039", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/7/51274//51274-h//51274-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "51413", "set_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Ignoble Savages", "year": 1972, "author": "Smith, Evelyn E.", "topic": "Extrasolar planets -- Fiction; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS", "article": "The Ignoble Savages\nBy EVELYN E. SMITH\n\n\n Illustrated by DILLON\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction March 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nSnaddra had but one choice in its fight\n \nto afford to live belowground—underhandedly\n \npretend theirs was an aboveboard society!\n\"Go Away from me, Skkiru,\" Larhgan said, pushing his hand off her arm.\n \"A beggar does not associate with the high priestess of Snaddra.\"\n\n\n \"But the Earthmen aren't due for another fifteen minutes,\" Skkiru\n protested.\n\n\n \"Of what importance are fifteen minutes compared to eternity!\" she\n exclaimed. Her lovely eyes fuzzed softly with emotion. \"You don't seem\n to realize, Skkiru, that this isn't just a matter of minutes or hours.\n It's forever.\"\n\"Forever!\" He looked at her incredulously. \"You mean we're going to\n keep this up as a permanent thing? You're joking!\"\n\n\n Bbulas groaned, but Skkiru didn't care about that. The sad, sweet way\n Larhgan shook her beautiful head disturbed him much more, and when\n she said, \"No, Skkiru, I am not joking,\" a tiny pang of doubt and\n apprehension began to quiver in his second smallest left toe.\n\n\n \"This is, in effect, good-by,\" she continued. \"We shall see each other\n again, of course, but only from a distance. On feast days, perhaps you\n may be permitted to kiss the hem of my robe ... but that will be all.\"\n\n\n Skkiru turned to the third person present in the council chamber.\n \"Bbulas, this is your fault! It was all your idea!\"\n\n\n There was regret on the Dilettante's thin face—an obviously insincere\n regret, the younger man knew, since he was well aware how Bbulas had\n always felt about the girl.\n\n\n \"I am sorry, Skkiru,\" Bbulas intoned. \"I had fancied you understood.\n This is not a game we are playing, but a new way of life we are\n adopting. A necessary way of life, if we of Snaddra are to keep on\n living at all.\"\n\n\n \"It's not that I don't love you, Skkiru,\" Larhgan put in gently, \"but\n the welfare of our planet comes first.\"\nShe had been seeing too many of the Terrestrial fictapes from the\n library, Skkiru thought resentfully. There was too damn much Terran\n influence on this planet. And this new project was the last straw.\n\n\n No longer able to control his rage and grief, he turned a triple\n somersault in the air with rage. \"Then why was I made a beggar and she\n the high priestess? You arranged that purposely, Bbulas. You—\"\n\n\n \"Now, Skkiru,\" Bbulas said wearily, for they had been through all this\n before, \"you know that all the ranks and positions were distributed\n by impartial lot, except for mine, and, of course, such jobs as could\n carry over from the civilized into the primitive.\"\n\n\n Bbulas breathed on the spectacles he was wearing, as contact lenses\n were not considered backward enough for the kind of planet Snaddra\n was now supposed to be, and attempted to wipe them dry on his robe.\n However, the thick, jewel-studded embroidery got in his way and so he\n was forced to lift the robe and wipe all three of the lenses on the\n smooth, soft, spun metal of his top underskirt.\n\n\n \"After all,\" he went on speaking as he wiped, \"I have to be high\n priest, since I organized this culture and am the only one here\n qualified to administer it. And, as the president himself concurred in\n these arrangements, I hardly think you—a mere private citizen—have\n the right to question them.\"\n\n\n \"Just because you went to school in another solar system,\" Skkiru said,\n whirling with anger, \"you think you're so smart!\"\n\n\n \"I won't deny that I do have educational and cultural advantages\n which were, unfortunately, not available to the general populace of\n this planet. However, even under the old system, I was always glad to\n utilize my superior attainments as Official Dilettante for the good of\n all and now—\"\n\n\n \"Sure, glad to have a chance to rig this whole setup so you could break\n up things between Larhgan and me. You've had your eye on her for some\n time.\"\n\n\n Skkiru coiled his antennae at Bbulas, hoping the insult would provoke\n him into an unbecoming whirl, but the Dilettante remained calm. One of\n the chief outward signs of Terran-type training was self-control and\n Bbulas had been thoroughly terranized.\nI hate Terrestrials\n, Skkiru said to himself.\nI hate Terra.\nThe\n quiver of anxiety had risen up his leg and was coiling and uncoiling\n in his stomach. He hoped it wouldn't reach his antennae—if he were\n to break down and psonk in front of Larhgan, it would be the final\n humiliation.\n\n\n \"Skkiru!\" the girl exclaimed, rotating gently, for she, like her\n fiance—her erstwhile fiance, that was, for the new regime had caused\n all such ties to be severed—and every other literate person on the\n planet, had received her education at the local university. Although\n sound, the school was admittedly provincial in outlook and very poor\n in the emotional department. \"One would almost think that the lots had\n some sort of divine intelligence behind them, because you certainly are\n behaving in a beggarly manner!\"\n\n\n \"And I have already explained to you, Skkiru,\" Bbulas said, with a\n patience much more infuriating than the girl's anger, \"that I had no\n idea of who was to become my high priestess. The lots chose Larhgan. It\n is, as the Earthmen say, kismet.\"\nHe adjusted the fall of his glittering robe before the great polished\n four-dimensional reflector that formed one wall of the chamber.\nKismet\n, Skkiru muttered to himself,\nand a little sleight of hand.\nBut he didn't dare offer this conclusion aloud; the libel laws of\n Snaddra were very severe. So he had to fall back on a weak, \"And I\n suppose it is kismet that makes us all have to go live out on the\n ground during the day, like—like savages.\"\n\n\n \"It is necessary,\" Bbulas replied without turning.\n\n\n \"Pooh,\" Skkiru said. \"Pooh,\npooh\n, POOH!\"\n\n\n Larhgan's dainty earflaps closed. \"Skkiru! Such language!\"\n\n\n \"As you said,\" Bbulas murmured, contemptuously coiling one antenna at\n Skkiru, \"the lots chose well and if you touch me, Skkiru, we shall have\n another drawing for beggar and you will be made a metal-worker.\"\n\n\n \"But I can't work metal!\"\n\n\n \"Then that will make it much worse for you than for the other\n outcasts,\" Bbulas said smugly, \"because you will be a pariah without a\n trade.\"\n\n\n \"Speaking of pariahs, that reminds me, Skkiru, before I forget, I'd\n better give you back your grimpatch—\" Larhgan handed the glittering\n bauble to him—\"and you give me mine. Since we can't be betrothed any\n longer, you might want to give yours to some nice beggar girl.\"\n\n\n \"I don't want to give my grimpatch to some nice beggar girl!\" Skkiru\n yelled, twirling madly in the air.\n\n\n \"As for me,\" she sighed, standing soulfully on her head, \"I do not\n think I shall ever marry. I shall make the religious life my career.\n Are there going to be any saints in your mythos, Bbulas?\"\n\n\n \"Even if there will be,\" Bbulas said, \"you certainly won't qualify if\n you keep putting yourself into a position which not only represents a\n trait wholly out of keeping with the new culture, but is most unseemly\n with the high priestess's robes.\"\n\n\n Larhgan ignored his unfeeling observations. \"I shall set myself apart\n from mundane affairs,\" she vowed, \"and I shall pretend to be happy,\n even though my heart will be breaking.\"\n\n\n It was only at that moment that Skkiru realized just how outrageous the\n whole thing really was. There must be another solution to the planet's\n problem. \"Listen—\" he began, but just then excited noises filtered\n down from overhead. It was too late.\n\n\n \"Earth ship in view!\" a squeaky voice called through the intercom.\n \"Everybody topside and don't forget your shoes.\"\n\n\n Except the beggar. Beggars went barefoot. Beggars suffered. Bbulas had\n made him beggar purposely, and the lots were a lot of slibwash.\n\n\n \"Hurry up, Skkiru.\"\nBbulas slid the ornate headdress over his antennae, which, already\n gilded and jeweled, at once seemed to become a part of it. He looked\n pretty damn silly, Skkiru thought, at the same time conscious of his\n own appearance—which was, although picturesque enough to delight\n romantic Terrestrial hearts, sufficiently wretched to charm the most\n hardened sadist.\n\n\n \"Hurry up, Skkiru,\" Bbulas said. \"They mustn't suspect the existence of\n the city underground or we're finished before we've started.\"\n\n\n \"For my part, I wish we'd never started,\" Skkiru grumbled. \"What was\n wrong with our old culture, anyway?\"\n\n\n That was intended as a rhetorical question, but Bbulas answered it\n anyway. He always answered questions; it had never seemed to penetrate\n his mind that school-days were long since over.\n\n\n \"I've told you a thousand times that our old culture was too much like\n the Terrans' own to be of interest to them,\" he said, with affected\n weariness. \"After all, most civilized societies are basically similar;\n it is only primitive societies that differ sharply, one from the\n other—and we have to be different to attract Earthmen. They're pretty\n choosy. You've got to give them what they want, and that's what they\n want. Now take up your post on the edge of the field, try to look\n hungry, and remember this isn't for you or for me, but for Snaddra.\"\n\n\n \"For Snaddra,\" Larhgan said, placing her hand over her anterior heart\n in a gesture which, though devout on Earth—or so the fictapes seemed\n to indicate—was obscene on Snaddra, owing to the fact that certain\n essential organs were located in different areas in the Snaddrath than\n in the corresponding Terrestrial life-form. Already the Terrestrial\n influence was corrupting her, Skkiru thought mournfully. She had been\n such a nice girl, too.\n\n\n \"We may never meet on equal terms again, Skkiru,\" she told him, with a\n long, soulful glance that made his hearts sink down to his quivering\n toes, \"but I promise you there will never be anyone else for me—and\n I hope that knowledge will inspire you to complete cooperation with\n Bbulas.\"\n\n\n \"If that doesn't,\" Bbulas said, \"I have other methods of inspiration.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" Skkiru answered sulkily. \"I'll go to the edge of the\n field, and I'll speak broken Inter-galactic, and I'll forsake my normal\n habits and customs, and I'll even\nbeg\n. But I don't have to like doing\n it, and I don't intend to like doing it.\"\n\n\n All three of Larhgan's eyes fuzzed with emotion. \"I'm proud of you,\n Skkiru,\" she said brokenly.\n\n\n Bbulas sniffed. The three of them floated up to ground level in a\n triple silence.\n\"Alms, for the love of Ipsnadd,\" Skkiru chanted, as the two Terrans\n descended from the ship and plowed their way through the mud to meet a\n procession of young Snaddrath dressed in elaborate ceremonial costumes,\n and singing a popular ballad—to which less ribald, as well as less\n inspiring, words than the originals had been fitted by Bbulas, just\n in case, by some extremely remote chance, the Terrans had acquired a\n smattering of Snadd somewhere. Since neither party was accustomed to\n navigating mud, their progress was almost imperceptible.\n\n\n \"Alms, for the love of Ipsnadd,\" chanted Skkiru the beggar.\n His teeth chattered as he spoke, for the rags he wore had been\n custom-weatherbeaten for him by the planet's best tailor—now a pariah,\n of course, because Snadd tailors were, naturally, metal-workers—and\n the wind and the rain were joyously making their way through the\n demolished wires. Never before had Skkiru been on the surface of the\n planet, except to pass over, and he had actually touched it only when\n taking off and landing. The Snaddrath had no means of land transport,\n having previously found it unnecessary—but now both air-cars and\n self-levitation were on the prohibited list as being insufficiently\n primitive.\n\n\n The outside was no place for a civilized human being, particularly\n in the wet season or—more properly speaking on Snaddra—the wetter\n season. Skkiru's feet were soaked with mud; not that the light sandals\n worn by the members of the procession appeared to be doing them much\n good, either. It gave him a kind of melancholy pleasure to see that the\n privileged ones were likewise trying to repress shivers. Though their\n costumes were rich, they were also scanty, particularly in the case\n of the females, for Earthmen had been reported by tape and tale to be\n humanoid.\n\n\n As the mud clutched his toes, Skkiru remembered an idea he had once\n gotten from an old sporting fictape of Terrestrial origin and had\n always planned to experiment with, but had never gotten around to—the\n weather had always been so weathery, there were so many other more\n comfortable sports, Larhgan had wanted him to spend more of his leisure\n hours with her, and so on. However, he still had the equipment, which\n he'd salvaged from a wrecked air-car, in his apartment—and it was the\n matter of a moment to run down, while Bbulas was looking the other way,\n and get it.\n\n\n Bbulas couldn't really object, Skkiru stilled the nagging quiver in\n his toe, because what could be more primitive than any form of land\n transport? And even though it took time to get the things, they worked\n so well that, in spite of the procession's head start, he was at the\n Earth ship long before the official greeters had reached it.\nThe newcomers were indeed humanoid, he saw. Only the peculiarly\n pasty color of their skins and their embarrassing lack of antennae\n distinguished them visibly from the Snaddrath. They were dressed much\n as the Snaddrath had been before they had adopted primitive garb.\n\n\n In fact, the Terrestrials were quite decent-looking life-forms,\n entirely different from the foppish monsters Skkiru had somehow\n expected to represent the cultural ruling race. Of course, he had\n frequently seen pictures of them, but everyone knew how easily those\n could be retouched. Why, it was the Terrestrials themselves, he had\n always understood, who had invented the art of retouching—thus proving\n beyond a doubt that they had something to hide.\n\n\n \"Look, Raoul,\" the older of the two Earthmen said in Terran—which\n the Snaddrath were not, according to the master plan, supposed to\n understand, but which most of them did, for it was the fashionable\n third language on most of the outer planets. \"A beggar. Haven't seen\n one since some other chaps and I were doing a spot of field work on\n that little planet in the Arcturus system—what was its name? Glotch,\n that's it. Very short study, it turned out to be. Couldn't get more\n than a pamphlet out of it, as we were unable to stay long enough to\n amass enough material for a really definitive work. The natives tried\n to eat us, so we had to leave in somewhat of a hurry.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, they were cannibals?\" the other Earthman asked, so respectfully\n that it was easy to deduce he was the subordinate of the two. \"How\n horrible!\"\n\n\n \"No, not at all,\" the other assured him. \"They weren't human—another\n species entirely—so you could hardly call it cannibalism. In fact, it\n was quite all right from the ethical standpoint, but abstract moral\n considerations seemed less important to us than self-preservation\n just then. Decided that, in this case, it would be best to let the\n missionaries get first crack at them. Soften them up, you know.\"\n\n\n \"And the missionaries—did they soften them up, Cyril?\"\n\n\n \"They softened up the missionaries, I believe.\" Cyril laughed. \"Ah,\n well, it's all in the day's work.\"\n\n\n \"I hope these creatures are not man-eaters,\" Raoul commented, with\n a polite smile at Cyril and an apprehensive glance at the oncoming\n procession—\ncreatures indeed\n! Skkiru thought, with a mental sniff.\n \"We have come such a long and expensive way to study them that it would\n be indeed a pity if we also were forced to depart in haste. Especially\n since this is my first field trip and I would like to make good at it.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, you will, my boy, you will.\" Cyril clapped the younger man on the\n shoulder. \"I have every confidence in your ability.\"\n\n\n Either he was stupid, Skkiru thought, or he was lying, in spite of\n Bbulas' asseverations that untruth was unknown to Terrestrials—which\n had always seemed highly improbable, anyway. How could any intelligent\n life-form possibly stick to the truth all the time? It wasn't human; it\n wasn't even humanoid; it wasn't even polite.\n\n\n \"The natives certainly appear to be human enough,\" Raoul added, with\n an appreciative glance at the females, who had been selected for the\n processional honor with a view to reported Terrestrial tastes. \"Some\n slight differences, of course—but, if two eyes are beautiful, three\n eyes can be fifty per cent lovelier, and chartreuse has always been my\n favorite color.\"\nIf they stand out here in the cold much longer, they are going to turn\n bright yellow.\nHis own skin, Skkiru knew, had faded from its normal\n healthy emerald to a sickly celadon.\nCyril frowned and his companion's smile vanished, as if the contortion\n of his superior's face had activated a circuit somewhere.\nMaybe the\n little one's a robot!\nHowever, it couldn't be—a robot would be better\n constructed and less interested in females than Raoul.\n\n\n \"Remember,\" Cyril said sternly, \"we must not establish undue rapport\n with the native females. It tends to detract from true objectivity.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Cyril,\" Raoul said meekly.\n\n\n Cyril assumed a more cheerful aspect \"I should like to give this chap\n something for old times' sake. What do you suppose is the medium of\n exchange here?\"\nMoney\n, Skkiru said to himself, but he didn't dare contribute this\n piece of information, helpful though it would be.\n\n\n \"How should I know?\" Raoul shrugged.\n\n\n \"Empathize. Get in there, old chap, and start batting.\"\n\n\n \"Why not give him a bar of chocolate, then?\" Raoul suggested grumpily.\n \"The language of the stomach, like the language of love, is said to be\n a universal one.\"\n\n\n \"Splendid idea! I always knew you had it in you, Raoul!\"\n\n\n Skkiru accepted the candy with suitable—and entirely genuine—murmurs\n of gratitude. Chocolate was found only in the most expensive of the\n planet's delicacy shops—and now neither delicacy shops nor chocolate\n were to be found, so, if Bbulas thought he was going to save the gift\n to contribute it later to the Treasury, the \"high priest\" was off his\n rocker.\n\n\n To make sure there would be no subsequent dispute about possession,\n Skkiru ate the candy then and there. Chocolate increased the body's\n resistance to weather, and never before had he had to endure so much\n weather all at once.\n\n\n On Earth, he had heard, where people lived exposed to weather, they\n often sickened of it and passed on—which helped to solve the problem\n of birth control on so vulgarly fecund a planet. Snaddra, alas, needed\n no such measures, for its population—like its natural resources—was\n dwindling rapidly. Still, Skkiru thought, as he moodily munched on the\n chocolate, it would have been better to flicker out on their own than\n to descend to a subterfuge like this for nothing more than survival.\nBeing a beggar, Skkiru discovered, did give him certain small,\n momentary advantages over those who had been alloted higher ranks.\n For one thing, it was quite in character for him to tread curiously\n upon the strangers' heels all the way to the temple—a ramshackle\n affair, but then it had been run up in only three days—where the\n official reception was to be held. The principal difficulty was that,\n because of his equipment, he had a little trouble keeping himself from\n overshooting the strangers. And though Bbulas might frown menacingly at\n him—and not only for his forwardness—that was in character on both\n sides, too.\n\n\n Nonetheless, Skkiru could not reconcile himself to his beggarhood, no\n matter how much he tried to comfort himself by thinking at least he\n wasn't a pariah like the unfortunate metal-workers who had to stand\n segregated from the rest by a chain of their own devising—a poetic\n thought, that was, but well in keeping with his beggarhood. Beggars\n were often poets, he believed, and poets almost always beggars. Since\n metal-working was the chief industry of Snaddra, this had provided the\n planet automatically with a large lowest caste. Bbulas had taken the\n easy way out.\n\n\n Skkiru swallowed the last of the chocolate and regarded the \"high\n priest\" with a simple-minded mendicant's grin. However, there were\n volcanic passions within him that surged up from his toes when, as the\n wind and rain whipped through his scanty coverings, he remembered the\n snug underskirts Bbulas was wearing beneath his warm gown. They were\n metal, but they were solid. All the garments visible or potentially\n visible were of woven metal, because, although there was cloth on the\n planet, it was not politic for the Earthmen to discover how heavily the\n Snaddrath depended upon imports.\n\n\n As the Earthmen reached the temple, Larhgan now appeared to join Bbulas\n at the head of the long flight of stairs that led to it. Although\n Skkiru had seen her in her priestly apparel before, it had not made\n the emotional impression upon him then that it did now, when, standing\n there, clad in beauty, dignity and warm clothes, she bade the newcomers\n welcome in several thousand words not too well chosen for her by\n Bbulas—who fancied himself a speech-writer as well as a speech-maker,\n for there was no end to the man's conceit.\n\n\n The difference between her magnificent garments and his own miserable\n rags had their full impact upon Skkiru at this moment. He saw the gulf\n that had been dug between them and, for the first time in his short\n life, he felt the tormenting pangs of caste distinction. She looked so\n lovely and so remote.\n\n\n \"... and so you are most welcome to Snaddra, men of Earth,\" she was\n saying in her melodious voice. \"Our resources may be small but our\n hearts are large, and what little we have, we offer with humility and\n with love. We hope that you will enjoy as long and as happy a stay here\n as you did on Nemeth....\"\n\n\n Cyril looked at Raoul, who, however, seemed too absorbed in\n contemplating Larhgan's apparently universal charms to pay much\n attention to the expression on his companion's face.\n\n\n \"... and that you will carry our affection back to all the peoples of\n the Galaxy.\"\nShe had finished. And now Cyril cleared his throat. \"Dear friends, we\n were honored by your gracious invitation to visit this fair planet, and\n we are honored now by the cordial reception you have given to us.\"\n\n\n The crowd yoomped politely. After a slight start, Cyril went on,\n apparently deciding that applause was all that had been intended.\n\n\n \"We feel quite sure that we are going to derive both pleasure and\n profit from our stay here, and we promise to make our intensive\n analysis of your culture as painless as possible. We wish only to study\n your society, not to tamper with it in any way.\"\nHa, ha\n, Skkiru said to himself.\nHa, ha, ha!\n\"But why is it,\" Raoul whispered in Terran as he glanced around out of\n the corners of his eyes, \"that only the beggar wears mudshoes?\"\n\n\n \"Shhh,\" Cyril hissed back. \"We'll find out later, when we've\n established rapport. Don't be so impatient!\"\n\n\n Bbulas gave a sickly smile. Skkiru could almost find it in his hearts\n to feel sorry for the man.\n\n\n \"We have prepared our best hut for you, noble sirs,\" Bbulas said with\n great self-control, \"and, by happy chance, this very evening a small\n but unusually interesting ceremony will be held outside the temple. We\n hope you will be able to attend. It is to be a rain dance.\"\n\n\n \"Rain dance!\" Raoul pulled his macintosh together more tightly at the\n throat. \"But why do you want rain? My faith, not only does it rain now,\n but the planet seems to be a veritable sea of mud. Not, of course,\" he\n added hurriedly as Cyril's reproachful eye caught his, \"that it is not\n attractive mud. Finest mud I have ever seen. Such texture, such color,\n such aroma!\"\n\n\n Cyril nodded three times and gave an appreciative sniff.\n\n\n \"But,\" Raoul went on, \"one can have too much of even such a good thing\n as mud....\"\n\n\n The smile did not leave Bbulas' smooth face. \"Yes, of course, honorable\n Terrestrials. That is why we are holding this ceremony. It is not a\n dance to bring on rain. It is a dance to\nstop\nrain.\"\n\n\n He was pretty quick on the uptake, Skkiru had to concede. However,\n that was not enough. The man had no genuine organizational ability.\n In the time he'd had in which to plan and carry out a scheme for\n the improvement of Snaddra, surely he could have done better than\n this high-school theocracy. For one thing, he could have apportioned\n the various roles so that each person would be making a definite\n contribution to the society, instead of creating some positions plums,\n like the priesthood, and others prunes, like the beggarship.\n\n\n What kind of life was that for an active, ambitious young man, standing\n around begging? And, moreover, from whom was Skkiru going to beg?\n Only the Earthmen, for the Snaddrath, no matter how much they threw\n themselves into the spirit of their roles, could not be so carried\n away that they would give handouts to a young man whom they had been\n accustomed to see basking in the bosom of luxury.\nUnfortunately, the fees that he'd received in the past had not enabled\n him both to live well and to save, and now that his fortunes had been\n so drastically reduced, he seemed in a fair way of starving to death.\n It gave him a gentle, moody pleasure to envisage his own funeral,\n although, at the same time, he realized that Bbulas would probably have\n to arrange some sort of pension for him; he could not expect Skkiru's\n patriotism to extend to abnormal limits. A man might be willing to die\n for his planet in many ways—but wantonly starving to death as the\n result of a primitive affectation was hardly one of them.\n\n\n All the same, Skkiru reflected as he watched the visitors being led off\n to the native hut prepared for them, how ignominious it would be for\n one of the brightest young architects on the planet to have to subsist\n miserably on the dole just because the world had gone aboveground. The\n capital had risen to the surface and the other cities would soon follow\n suit. Meanwhile, a careful system of tabus had been designed to keep\n the Earthmen from discovering the existence of those other cities.\n\n\n He could, of course, emigrate to another part of the planet, to one of\n them, and stave off his doom for a while—but that would not be playing\n the game. Besides, in such a case, he wouldn't be able to see Larhgan.\n\n\n As if all this weren't bad enough, he had been done an injury which\n struck directly at his professional pride. He hadn't even been allowed\n to help in planning the huts. Bbulas and some workmen had done all that\n themselves with the aid of some antique blueprints that had been put\n out centuries before by a Terrestrial magazine and had been acquired\n from a rare tape-and-book dealer on Gambrell, for, Skkiru thought, far\n too high a price. He could have designed them himself just as badly and\n much more cheaply.\n\n\n It wasn't that Skkiru didn't understand well enough that Snaddra had\n been forced into making such a drastic change in its way of life.\n What resources it once possessed had been depleted and—aside from\n minerals—they had never been very extensive to begin with. All\n life-forms on the planet were on the point of extinction, save fish and\n rice—the only vegetable that would grow on Snaddra, and originally a\n Terran import at that. So food and fiber had to be brought from the\n other planets, at fabulous expense, for Snaddra was not on any of\n the direct trade routes and was too unattractive to lure the tourist\n business.\n\n\n Something definitely had to be done, if it were not to decay\n altogether. And that was where the Planetary Dilettante came in.\nThe traditional office of Planetary Dilettante was a civil-service\n job, awarded by competitive examination whenever it fell vacant to\n the person who scored highest in intelligence, character and general\n gloonatz. However, the tests were inadequate when it came to measuring\n sense of proportion, adaptiveness and charm—and there, Skkiru felt,\n was where the essential flaw lay. After all, no really effective test\n would have let a person like Bbulas come out on top.\n\n\n The winner was sent to Gambrell, the nearest planet with a Terran\n League University, to be given a thorough Terran-type education. No\n individual on Snaddra could afford such schooling, no matter how\n great his personal fortune, because the transportation costs were so\n immense that only a government could afford them. That was the reason\n why only one person in each generation could be chosen to go abroad at\n the planet's expense and acquire enough finish to cover the rest of the\n population.\n\n\n The Dilettante's official function had always been, in theory, to serve\n the planet when an emergency came—and this, old Luccar, the former\n President, had decided, when he and the Parliament had awakened to the\n fact that Snaddra was falling into ruin, was an emergency. So he had,\n after considerable soul-searching, called upon Bbulas to plan a method\n of saving Snaddra—and Bbulas, happy to be in the limelight at last,\n had come up with this program.\n\n\n It was not one Skkiru himself would have chosen. It was not one, he\n felt, that any reasonable person would have chosen. Nevertheless, the\n Bbulas Plan had been adopted by a majority vote of the Snaddrath,\n largely because no one had come up with a feasible alternative and,\n as a patriotic citizen, Skkiru would abide by it. He would accept the\n status of beggar; it was his duty to do so. Moreover, as in the case of\n the planet, there was no choice.\n\n\n But all was not necessarily lost, he told himself. Had he not, in his\n anthropological viewings—though Bbulas might have been the only one\n privileged to go on ethnological field trips to other planets, he was\n not the only one who could use a library—seen accounts of societies\n where beggarhood could be a rewarding and even responsible station in\n life? There was no reason why, within the framework of the primitive\n society Bbulas had created to allure Terran anthropologists, Skkiru\n should not make something of himself and show that a beggar was worthy\n of the high priestess's hand—which would be entirely in the Terran\n primitive tradition of romance.\n\n\n \"Skkiru!\" Bbulas was screaming, as he spun, now that the Terrans were\n out of ear- and eye-shot \"Skkiru, you idiot, listen to me! What are\n those ridiculous things you are wearing on your silly feet?\"\n\n\n Skkiru protruded all of his eyes in innocent surprise. \"Just some\n old pontoons I took from a wrecked air-car once. I have a habit of\n collecting junk and I thought—\"\n\n\n Bbulas twirled madly in the air. \"You are not supposed to think. Leave\n all the thinking to me!\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Bbulas,\" Skkiru said meekly.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What measures did the Snaddra creatures take for the arrival of the Earth visitors?", "question_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG_1", "options": ["Creating great rain on the surface to appear as a primitive mud-based architectural beings, dressing in jeweled robes to show their opulence", "Destroying their underground cities, returning to the existing surface huts, acting from Earth’s culture so as to be accepted by them", "Hiding their spaceships, speaking in Earth’s language, constructing primitive accommodations", "Pretending to live on the surface, constructing primitive accommodations, acting as though they had no influences from Earth’s culture"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Skkiru come to think about his beggar role?", "question_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG_2", "options": ["He would be able to collect riches like chocolate as a beggar and that it might not actually be as horrible as he originally thought", "It was orchestrated by Larhgan to break off their engagement", "It was a highly valued role since he could act as a spy", "It was a unsustainable fallacy since no one on the planet would actually support him, though he may be able to achieve his goals in the end"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are the people of Earth interested in visiting Snaddra?", "question_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG_3", "options": ["Understanding how to live in so much rain", "Social studies of the creatures", "Their architectural advances", "Missionary deployments"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Skkiru treat the role of beggar in the presence of the Terran visitors?", "question_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG_4", "options": ["He thought he was above the role, acting as a high priest instead", "He was unsure of how to act as a beggar and refrained from engaging with the Terrans", "He played it convincingly and truthfully", "He undermined the role and gave away the plan"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Skkiru and Larhgan?", "question_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG_5", "options": ["They were once married, but it did not work out between them. Skkiru would do anything to regain Larhgan’s love", "Larhgan betrayed Skkiru’s love and she cannot forgive herself for that. She decides to refrain from every marrying again as a punishment for her mistakes", "They were engaged to be married, but circumstances dictated otherwise. They remain in love and think there will never be another for them", "Skkiru created an elaborate scheme for them to marry as high priest and priestess, and Larhgan is unaware of his scheming"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How is Earth entangled with Skkiru’s planet?", "question_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG_6", "options": ["His planet has been developing in the ways of Earth, but is now trying to appear primitive", "Earth evaluates planets across the galaxy for their resources, and his planet is of particular interest", "Earth appears to be informing a cultural shift as their technologies reach his planet", "Earth provided technologies to his planet early on and is checking back in on the status of their progress"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How are the governing decisions made on the planet?", "question_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG_7", "options": ["There is a branch of Earth’s government that oversees all decisions", "There is a planetary disagreement about decision-making", "They appear to be made by the will of someone greater than the characters in the story", "The decisions are made by high officials, in this case the control was given to Bbulas"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Larhgan’s relationship like with Skkiru and Bbulas?", "question_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG_8", "options": ["Skkiru and Bbulas are both trying to gain access to her fortune, but Skkiru is the only one with her true love", "She resents them both for entangling her in this plan", "She was previously involved with Skkiru, but the new way of their world required her to now be with Bbulas", "She would like to be married to Bbulas, but does not know how to communicate this to Skkiru"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the relationship like between Bbulas and Skkiru?", "question_unique_id": "51413_MS1UBQRG_9", "options": ["Bbulas and Skkiru went to other planets for their education together and know each other well, but they had a falling out", "They compete for the love of Larhgan, and both have an equal chance at achieving it", "Bbulas recently came upon a position of power and Skkiru resented him for it", "Skkiru thinks that Bbulas will be a fitting ruler for the planet and reluctantly accepts his new role"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/4/1/51413//51413-h//51413-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20041", "set_unique_id": "20041_L1MZ3RS4", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "Vulgar Keynesians", "year": "1997", "author": "Paul Krugman", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Vulgar Keynesians \n\n         Economics, like all intellectual enterprises, is subject to the law of diminishing disciples. A great innovator is entitled to some poetic license. If his ideas are at first somewhat rough, if he exaggerates the discontinuity between his vision and what came before, no matter: Polish and perspective can come in due course. But inevitably there are those who follow the letter of the innovator's ideas but misunderstand their spirit, who are more dogmatic in their radicalism than the orthodox were in their orthodoxy. And as ideas spread, they become increasingly simplistic--until what eventually becomes part of the public consciousness, part of what \"everyone knows,\" is no more than a crude caricature of the original. \n\n         Such has been the fate of Keynesian economics. John Maynard Keynes himself was a magnificently subtle and innovative thinker. Yet one of his unfortunate if unintentional legacies was a style of thought--call it vulgar Keynesianism--that confuses and befogs economic debate to this day. \n\n         Before the 1936 publication of Keynes' The General Theory of Employment, Interest, and Money , economists had developed a rich and insightful theory of microeconomics , of the behavior of individual markets and the allocation of resources among them. But macroeconomics --the study of economy-wide events like inflation and deflation, booms and slumps--was in a state of arrested development that left it utterly incapable of making sense of the Great Depression. \n\n         So-called \"classical\" macroeconomics asserted that the economy had a long-run tendency to return to full employment, and focused only on that long run. Its two main tenets were the quantity theory of money--the assertion that the overall level of prices was proportional to the quantity of money in circulation--and the \"loanable funds\" theory of interest, which asserted that interest rates would rise or fall to equate total savings with total investment. \n\n         Keynes was willing to concede that in some sufficiently long run, these theories might indeed be valid; but, as he memorably pointed out, \"In the long run we are all dead.\" In the short run, he asserted, interest rates were determined not by the balance between savings and investment at full employment but by \"liquidity preference\"--the public's desire to hold cash unless offered a sufficient incentive to invest in less safe and convenient assets. Savings and investment were still necessarily equal; but if desired savings at full employment turned out to exceed desired investment, what would fall would be not interest rates but the level of employment and output. In particular, if investment demand should fall for whatever reason--such as, say, a stock-market crash--the result would be an economy-wide slump. \n\n         It was a brilliant re-imagining of the way the economy worked, one that received quick acceptance from the brightest young economists of the time. True, some realized very early that Keynes' picture was oversimplified; in particular, that the level of employment and output would normally feed back to interest rates, and that this might make a lot of difference. Still, for a number of years after the publication of The General Theory , many economic theorists were fascinated by the implications of that picture, which seemed to take us into a looking-glass world in which virtue was punished and self-indulgence rewarded. \n\n         Consider, for example, the \"paradox of thrift.\" Suppose that for some reason the savings rate--the fraction of income not spent--goes up. According to the early Keynesian models, this will actually lead to a decline in total savings and investment. Why? Because higher desired savings will lead to an economic slump, which will reduce income and also reduce investment demand; since in the end savings and investment are always equal, the total volume of savings must actually fall! \n\n         Or consider the \"widow's cruse\" theory of wages and employment (named after an old folk tale). You might think that raising wages would reduce the demand for labor; but some early Keynesians argued that redistributing income from profits to wages would raise consumption demand, because workers save less than capitalists (actually they don't, but that's another story), and therefore increase output and employment. \n\n         Such paradoxes are still fun to contemplate; they still appear in some freshman textbooks. Nonetheless, few economists take them seriously these days. There are a number of reasons, but the most important can be stated in two words: Alan Greenspan. \n\n         After all, the simple Keynesian story is one in which interest rates are independent of the level of employment and output. But in reality the Federal Reserve Board actively manages interest rates, pushing them down when it thinks employment is too low and raising them when it thinks the economy is overheating. You may quarrel with the Fed chairman's judgment--you may think that he should keep the economy on a looser rein--but you can hardly dispute his power. Indeed, if you want a simple model for predicting the unemployment rate in the United States over the next few years, here it is: It will be what Greenspan wants it to be, plus or minus a random error reflecting the fact that he is not quite God. \n\n          But putting Greenspan (or his successor) into the picture restores much of the classical vision of the macroeconomy. Instead of an invisible hand pushing the economy toward full employment in some unspecified long run, we have the visible hand of the Fed pushing us toward its estimate of the noninflationary unemployment rate over the course of two or three years. To accomplish this, the board must raise or lower interest rates to bring savings and investment at that target unemployment rate in line with each other. And so all the paradoxes of thrift, widow's cruses, and so on become irrelevant. In particular, an increase in the savings rate will translate into higher investment after all, because the Fed will make sure that it does. \n\n         To me, at least, the idea that changes in demand will normally be offset by Fed policy--so that they will, on average, have no effect on employment--seems both simple and entirely reasonable. Yet it is clear that very few people outside the world of academic economics think about things that way. For example, the debate over the North American Free Trade Agreement was conducted almost entirely in terms of supposed job creation or destruction. The obvious (to me) point that the average unemployment rate over the next 10 years will be what the Fed wants it to be, regardless of the U.S.-Mexico trade balance, never made it into the public consciousness. (In fact, when I made that argument at one panel discussion in 1993, a fellow panelist--a NAFTA advocate, as it happens--exploded in rage: \"It's remarks like that that make people hate economists!\") \n\n         What has made it into the public consciousness--including, alas, that of many policy intellectuals who imagine themselves well informed--is a sort of caricature Keynesianism, the hallmark of which is an uncritical acceptance of the idea that reduced consumer spending is always a bad thing. In the United States, where inflation and the budget deficit have receded for the time being, vulgar Keynesianism has recently staged an impressive comeback. The paradox of thrift and the widow's cruse are both major themes in William Greider's latest book, which I discussed last month. (Although it is doubtful whether Greider is aware of the source of his ideas--as Keynes wrote, \"Practical men, who believe themselves quite exempt from any intellectual influence, are usually the slaves of some defunct economist.\") It is perhaps not surprising that the same ideas are echoed by John B. Judis in the ; but when you see the idea that higher savings will actually reduce growth treated seriously in (\"Looking for Growth in All the Wrong Places,\" Feb. 3), you realize that there is a real cultural phenomenon developing. \n\n         To justify the claim that savings are actually bad for growth (as opposed to the quite different, more reasonable position that they are not as crucial as some would claim), you must convincingly argue that the Fed is impotent--that it cannot, by lowering interest rates, ensure that an increase in desired savings gets translated into higher investment. \n\n          It is not enough to argue that interest rates are only one of several influences on investment. That is like saying that my pressure on the gas pedal is only one of many influences on the speed of my car. So what? I am able to adjust that pressure, and so my car's speed is normally determined by how fast I think I can safely drive. Similarly, Greenspan is able to change interest rates freely (the Fed can double the money supply in a day, if it wants to), and so the level of employment is normally determined by how high he thinks it can safely go--end of story. \n\n         No, to make sense of the claim that savings are bad you must argue either that interest rates have no effect on spending (try telling that to the National Association of Homebuilders) or that potential savings are so high compared with investment opportunities that the Fed cannot bring the two in line even at a near-zero interest rate. The latter was a reasonable position during the 1930s, when the rate on Treasury bills was less than one-tenth of 1 percent; it is an arguable claim right now for Japan, where interest rates are about 1 percent. (Actually, I think that the Bank of Japan could still pull that economy out of its funk, and that its passivity is a case of gross malfeasance. That, however, is a subject for another column.) But the bank that holds a mortgage on my house sends me a little notice each month assuring me that the interest rate in America is still quite positive, thank you. \n\n         Anyway, this is a moot point, because the people who insist that savings are bad do not think that the Fed is impotent. On the contrary, they are generally the same people who insist that the disappointing performance of the U.S. economy over the past generation is all the Fed's fault, and that we could grow our way out of our troubles if only Greenspan would let us. \n\n         Let's quote the Feb. 3 Business                 Week commentary: \n\n                         Some contrarian economists argue that forcing up savings is likely to slow the economy, depressing investment rather than sparking it. \"You need to stimulate the investment decision,\" says University of Texas economist James K. Galbraith, a Keynesian. He would rather stimulate growth by cutting interest rates.              \n\n         So, increasing savings will slow the economy--presumably because the Fed cannot induce an increase in investment by cutting interest rates. Instead, the Fed should stimulate growth by cutting interest rates, which will work because lower interest rates will induce an increase in investment. \n\n         Am I missing something? \n\n                         To read the reply of \"Vulgar Keynesian\" James K. Galbraith, in which he explains green cheese and Keynes, click here.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the author’s thesis?", "question_unique_id": "20041_L1MZ3RS4_1", "options": ["That even Keynesian economists are misinterpreting some of the intentions of Keynes’ original theories", "There are so many unknowns in Keynes’ theories that it has come time to develop a new set of economic theories separate from his", "Keynesian economists are more united than divided", "It’s not possible to know what Keynes’ true intentions were"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the fallacy that the author presents?", "question_unique_id": "20041_L1MZ3RS4_2", "options": ["There are several untrue versions of Keynes’ theories that were circulated early on in his career", "There are too many people in control of the interest rate to know who makes the decisions", "Setting the employment capacity for the economy in dangerous", "The Federal Reserve having complete say on the interest rate cannot coexist with the idea that savings rates increasing is bad for the economy "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author think is not possible to ensure?", "question_unique_id": "20041_L1MZ3RS4_3", "options": ["More unemployed people will be linked with greater savings", "Less savings due to low interest rates will translate to more investments", "Investments will always increase in the long run", "Keynes’ theories are still relevant to the economy today"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author argue is newly developing in relation to Keynesianism?", "question_unique_id": "20041_L1MZ3RS4_4", "options": ["There is a sense of Keynes’ theories being overstated ", "Kaynes is being left out of current economic teachings", "It’s been misinterpreted as only a way to explain unemployment and nothing more", "It’s being boiled down to the idea that low consumer spend rates cause problems to occur in the economy"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the feedback that controls the interest rate set by the Federal reserve?", "question_unique_id": "20041_L1MZ3RS4_5", "options": ["Jobs and investments", "Investments only", "Savings rate", "Jobs only"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is supposed to be the desired effect of lowering interest rates?", "question_unique_id": "20041_L1MZ3RS4_6", "options": ["Lower unemployment", "Lower employment", "Decrease investments", "Increase savings"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Keynes posit was an influence on the rate of interest in the economy?", "question_unique_id": "20041_L1MZ3RS4_7", "options": ["Desire to hold cash unless incentivized otherwise", "Full employment", "Balance between savings and investment", "Number of crashes per decade"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": 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To mean:", "question_unique_id": "20041_L1MZ3RS4_8", "options": ["An accident", "Danger", "A partisan understanding", "A distorted view"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20048", "set_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "I Have Seen the Future of Europe", "year": "1997", "author": "Gregg Easterbrook", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "I Have Seen the Future of Europe \n\n         The Eurocrats were thinking ahead when they made Brussels the \"Capital of Europe,\" headquarters of the emerging European Union. Though practically unknown in the United States, the union is one of Europe's biggest stories, an important organization trying to establish itself as a sort of metagovernment for European states. Entertainingly, the European Union is perhaps the sole bureaucracy left in the world that admits that its goal is to expand. And what better place to locate this new enterprise than Brussels, which may be a living preview of the Europe to come: swathed in red tape and pomp, paralyzed by constituency politics, declining at great cost. The European Union couldn't have picked a better home. \n\n         Belgian politics enjoy none of the rowdy intellectual contention of the United Kingdom, none of the nuance-loving literary polemics of France, not even a strong national identity. The primary issue in public debate is who gets what benefits, and while commerce and money are gods, neither is served particularly well. The national infrastructure is fraying, with little renewal: Belgians have a high per-capita income and spend it generously on cars and dining, but what Rousseau called the esprit social seems lacking. Crumbling, generic, enervated, debt-ridden, materialistic ... is this Europe's future? \n\n         Brussels is a place where you can take your dog into a restaurant, but not your kids. Where a best-selling product, in an ostensibly Catholic country, is Judas beer. (My proposed slogan: \"Taste you can trust.\") Where there's no such thing as takeout coffee with lids. Anyone who wants coffee must sit languidly in a cafe, gradually feeling overcome with lethargy and despair. \n\n         Other European atmospherics: lobster bisque for sale from sidewalk vendors; excellent public transportation; monumental traffic jams of expensive cars crowding small streets; bare breasts common in advertisements and at beaches, miniskirts being considered acceptable attire for professional women (when, oh when will these enlightened attitudes reach the United States?); notably more pollution than in the United States; notably more government, running higher deficits; lots of well-cared-for historic buildings, such as the built-in-the-14 th -century church I attend with my family; prices far too high, except for wine and flowers, which are cheap (European staples, you know); large cemeteries, where thousands of U.S. soldiers rest beneath uniform stone markers; and ubiquitous fresh bread and great chocolates. \n\n         Many tongues are spoken here, but multilingualism serves mainly to delineate constituent groups, not to facilitate communication. Southern Belgium, called Wallonia, is French; the northern portion, Flanders, is Dutch. The civic sphere is entirely bilingual, down to abbreviations: Buses and trams are brightly labeled MIVB/STIB, the transit-agency acronyms in French and Flemish. But bilingualism doesn't seem to do much to bring people together. In the Flemish parts of town, most people would rather hear English than French, and in the French sections, Flemish is rarely welcome. Until recently, Belgian politics were dominated by an aging Francophone aristocracy, whose wealth was secured by Wallonian mines. But mining is a dying industry throughout Europe, and Wallonia now produces only 13 percent of Belgium's exports, vs. 68 percent for Flanders. The Flemish have jumped into electronics, trading, and other growth sectors, while the Walloons have stagnated, devoting their energies to demanding more benefits. Their economic power on the rise, the Flemish have pressured for a dominant position in politics. The result is an uneasy compromise giving Flanders and Wallonia semiautonomy. \n\n          Public strikes, particularly ones blocking traffic and commerce, are a regular event here, making it somewhat of a mystery how Belgium maintains its high living standard. In the past year, teachers, students, firefighters, civil servants, airline workers, and others have closed off large sections of Brussels to chant for higher benefits. Ground crews for Sabena, the national flag carrier, ran amok during a 1996 strike day at the airport, smashing the terminal's glass walls and doing millions of francs worth of damage, then demanding more money from the very government that was going to have to pay for the repairs. \n\n         What are the protesters striking about? Typical working conditions in Belgium include retirement at 60 or younger, full pay for 32 hours of work, six weeks' paid vacation, and essentially unlimited sick days. Much more than high wages (which a profitable enterprise can bear), such work rules are what stymie the continent's economies, with overall Western European unemployment now at 10.9 percent, double the U.S. figure. \n\n         Yet, sympathy is usually with strikers, and cowed politicians give in to almost all demands from almost all quarters. Polls repeatedly show that majorities think government should give the workers more, a legacy of the European class system. Europe is plagued by families that have been filthy rich for generations--based on no useful contribution to society. And a residue of estates reminds voters of the landed gentry's historic role as parasites. But the link between government giving the workers more, and taxes and public debt rising, does not seem to have sunk in on this side of the Atlantic, except perhaps in the United Kingdom, where, perhaps not coincidentally, unemployment is relatively low. \n\n         As in most of Europe, state-sanctioned monopolies drag down Belgian economic activity, and government barriers to entrepreneurs are much worse than anywhere in America. Sabena loses money even though it has government-protected air routes, a high percentage of business flyers, and the highest seat-mile prices in Europe. \n\n         The ossified state of European telecom monopolies would stun American Webheads. One reason Slate is not a national obsession in Europe (as, of course, it is in the United States) is that Internet use remains a luxury here. The phone monopolies have priced out 800 access. Belgacom charges 5 cents per minute for connections to any Internet service provider, making the connection more expensive than the provider's service. Ten years ago Robert Reich, having seen the French Minitel experiment, warned that Europe would beat the United States to the next communication revolution--instead, U.S. Web entrepreneurs left Europe in the dust. Now European telecoms and communication bureaucrats spend their energies on blocking innovation and searching for ways to monopolize a new enterprise whose entire soul is decentralization. \n\n         These rapacious European phone monopolies have given birth to independent call-back services. Once registered, you dial a number in the United States, where a computer with caller-ID recognizes you after one ring. You hang up to avoid a Belgacom charge, and the computer calls you back, providing you with a stateside dial tone so you can dial as if you were in the United States. Call-back services allow me to call the United States for 70 cents a minute, vs. the $2.60-per-minute Belgacom charge, and make it cheaper to call Antwerp--just 40 miles away--via California than directly. Naturally, European governments want to tax call-back services out of existence. Supposedly, the European telecom market will deregulate in 1999, and in anticipation of being phaser-blasted by true competition, Belgacom just sold 45 percent of itself to a consortium led by Ameritech. Foreign managers will now be blamed for cutting the deadwood. \n\n          In a sense, all European governments are angling to shift the blame for financial reality onto someone else via the euro. In theory, national currencies such as the pound, mark, and lira will all disappear, replaced by one universal tender. A unified currency makes economic sense, but trade efficiency is only one motive for many governments. Participation in the new currency requires nations to cut their national debt below 3 percent of GDP. A dirty little secret of Western Europe is that it has gone further into hock than the United States. U.S. public debt was down to 1.4 percent of GDP in 1996, and may drop below 1 percent this fiscal year. Germany, France, and Belgium all are running public debts at 3 percent or more, and Italy is at 7.4 percent. European national leaders know they've got to tackle their deficits, but none of them wants the heat for cutting featherbedding or generous social-payment systems. So the euro plan allows them to blame foreign interests for required reductions. \n\n         But will the spooky level of Belgian corruption rub off on the euro? Observers consider Belgium the second-most corrupt European state, trailing only Italy. Last year, the Belgian secretary-general of NATO had to quit over charges that his Flemish Socialist Party accepted $50 million in bribes from a defense contractor. Police recently arrested two other top politicians and raided the headquarters of the French Socialist Party in connection with bribes from another defense firm. \n\n         The European Union's Eurocrats have worthy ideas, such as persuading the continent's governments to agree on harmonious environmental and immigration policies. But the real overriding goal of the union and its executive arm, the European Commission (there's also a European Parliament here, but we can skip that), is self-aggrandizement. In conversations, Eurocrats are frank about their maneuvering for more money and empire: to wrest \"competence,\" or jurisdiction, away from national governments and vest it in Brussels is the open objective. \n\n         The union's command center is a cathedral to bureaucratic power, the only diplomatic structure I've ever been in that actually looks the way Hollywood depicts diplomatic life. At State Department headquarters in Foggy Bottom, paint is peeling in the halls and people with titles like \"deputy director\" work in chintzy little Dilbert cubicles. At the marble-clad European Union headquarters, even midlevel Eurocrats have large, plush suites with leather chairs and original artwork on the walls. Ranks of big black-glass BMWs and Mercedes limos are parked at the structure's circular drive, motors wastefully idling. Landing a job in the Brussels Eurocracy has become the career goal of many of Europe's best graduates. \n\n          The European Union's behavior synchs with its opulent circumstances. Meetings are held in secret, and few public-disclosure regulations apply. This is the future of European government? Just how competent the new organization may be is on display at Berlaymont, the first European Commission headquarters. Forerunner of the current sumptuous building, this vast skyscraper now sits near the center of Brussels unoccupied, its entire outer structure swathed in heavy tarpaulin. Berlaymont has been closed for nine years after an asbestos scare and a botched cleanup: European taxpayers have paid $50 million so far merely to keep the building closed, with air pumps running around the clock to prevent any fibers from wafting out. A mountain of scientific studies has shown that asbestos in walls is almost never dangerous: The only dangerous thing is trying to rip it out because that causes fibers to become airborne--exactly what has happened at Berlaymont. And if the European Union can't manage its continent any better than it manages its own buildings ... \n\n         Fortunately, Berlaymont isn't in my neighborhood, but a patisserie is. Bakeries are easier to find than gas stations in Brussels, and the neon bakery sign I can see from my office window often calls out to me the way signs for cocktail lounges once called out to earlier generations of writers. Think I'll answer now.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Are there clear solutions for the problems that the author discusses?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_1", "options": ["There is a clear solution for the management of waste that was proposed", "There could be free solutions to most of the problems", "They are very multi-faceted problems that couldn’t easily be solved", "The author writes about several types of solution to each criticism they raise"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author think about the system of government in Belgium?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_2", "options": ["They support the decisions the government has had to make to preserve the environment at the expense of new roads", "They wonder when there will be a turning point to corrupt the government that they can’t think of a prior time having suffered corruption", "They don’t think they function well, and that they have overregulated business", "They think it is the best way to move into the future"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What time period is this article likely written in based on its content?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_3", "options": ["1990s", "1980s", "2000s", "2010s"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the significance of architecture to the arguments?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_4", "options": ["The author believes the EU is taking over Belgium’s historical buildings with new architectural projects", "The author compares the EU to architects as an analogy", "The author thinks that how money is being spent on government buildings is a waste", "The author is an architect themselves and notice many examples to make their case through the story"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are some of the positive aspects the author highlights?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_5", "options": ["There are no blatant positives discussed", "The streamlining of nations under the European Union", "The move to have one currency across Europe", "The apparent good will of the people staffing the headquarter building"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are the sources the author uses for the article?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_6", "options": ["Likely some news reporting, plus personal experience in the culture and economy", "Only personal experience and interviews", "Economists that have studied the EU as their life’s work", "They cite several government publications"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where does the author write their experience from?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_7", "options": ["They are located in Italy", "They explain their upbringing in Canada", "They mention being in Belgium themselves", "They mention being from the USA"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What level of depth does the author provide on the subjects they use to make their case?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_8", "options": ["Language is really the only thing covered in any depth", "A broad, but not very deep assessment", "They provide the reader with deeper arguments about the monetary system and striking tendencies than anything else", "They provide deep, explanatory statistics to most arguments"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are the general topics the author uses to make their case?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_9", "options": ["Corruption, fraud, mistrust, espionage", "Culture, consumer spending, politics, language, corruption, telecommunications", "Political platforms, language, telecommunications, Trains", "Consumer spending, language, public strikes, acts of war"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author’s tone shift over the course of the story?", "question_unique_id": "20048_4B31UXVO_10", "options": ["They remain steadfastly supportive to the EU", "They remain steadfastly in opposition to their subject", "They start out hopeful and are slowly dismayed  with further findings", "Desolate to begin with, shifting to the glimmers of promising results to come"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20020", "set_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "MONICA!", "year": "1998", "author": "Jamie Malanowski", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "MONICA!\nThe White House may have been in crisis all year, but the events were less the stuff of great drama than of a farcical musical comedy. Hey, wait a minute--let's put on a show! \n\n                         The time: November 1995.              \n\n                         The House Republicans, led by Speaker Newt Gingrich, are insisting on their version of the budget. President Bill Clinton is stubbornly rejecting it. The Republicans have taken a bold option: They will just refuse to pass a budget, and they'll let the government shut down. In the Oval Office, BILL CLINTON meets with advisers LEON PANETTA and HAROLD ICKES and secretary BETTY CURRIE to discuss this development.              \n\n         \"The Shutdown\" (upbeat production number) \n\n                         PANETTA: The Republicans have positions \n\n         To which they're clinging fast. \n\n                         ICKES: The president is just as firm \n\n         The die, it seems, is cast. \n\n                         PANETTA: Without a budget passed by Congress \n\n         The government will close. \n\n         All of the workers \n\n         Will be sent home on furloughs. \n\n                         CLINTON \n\n            [speaking]                : Well, wait a second--not all of them. We'll need to keep some essential personnel. \n\n                         PANETTA: The Army and the Navy \n\n         Will need to stay in place. \n\n                         ICKES: Also those at NASA \n\n         Who keep the shuttle up in space. \n\n                         PANETTA: We'll need to keep the pilots \n\n         Flying in their planes. \n\n                         CLINTON: And here at the White House \n\n         My staff should remain. \n\n                         PANETTA \n\n            [speaking]                : But even here at the White House, some adjustments will be required. \n\n                         CLINTON: OK, tell the ushers \n\n         To take a few days off. \n\n         Tell the maids and cooks and butlers \n\n         To go play themselves some golf. \n\n         We have to do without the clerks \n\n         Let them all go home. \n\n                         CURRIE: What about the secretaries? \n\n         Who will get the phones? \n\n                         CLINTON \n\n            [speaking]                : We've got to make sure the Oval Office functions with efficiency. We can't afford the tiniest error. \n\n                         PANETTA: Aha! I have it! \n\n         We'll bring in an intern, \n\n         We'll bring in an intern, \n\n         Someone who's an expert with a phone. \n\n         We'll bring in an intern, \n\n         We'll bring in an intern, \n\n         I assure you, Mr. President-- \n\n         Your routine here won't get blown. \n\n                         PANETTA , ICKES , and CURRIE                 [solemnly agreeing]                :              \n\n         The presence of an intern will ensure \n\n         Your routine here won't get blown. \n\n          \n\n            [The advisers depart, leaving President Clinton alone. He turns introspective.]              \n\n         \"President Lonely\" (a ballad) \n\n                         CLINTON: I've got deputies and bureaucrats \n\n         Who fulfill my every thought. \n\n         And soldiers, sailors, and Marines \n\n         To fight battles I want fought. \n\n         There's no one who's got more power, \n\n         I'm the leader of all that's free \n\n         But if you subtract the flags and lackeys, I'm just \n\n         Lonely. \n\n         I'm President Lonely. \n\n         But I guess I'll just have to muddle through. \n\n         The cheers and applause are overwhelming, \n\n         But presidents need cuddles, too. \n\n         The fawning adoration's pleasant, \n\n         But presidents need cuddles, too. \n\n                         [Enter Betty Currie.]              \n\n                         CURRIE: Mr. President? The intern is here. And she's brought you some pizza! \n\n                         [The lights go down. When they resume, the intern-- MONICA LEWINSKY --is talking on the phone to her good friend LINDA TRIPP .]              \n\n                         LEWINSKY: Well, y'know, I'd seen him around, like, a lot. And I know he noticed me. So when they said they needed an intern to answer the phones, I said, \"Hel-lo-o-o!\" And then I had the idea to take him pizza! \n\n          \n\n            TRIPP: And then what happened? \n\n         \"What Went On\" (upbeat) \n\n                         LEWINSKY: Then I led him on. \n\n         I showed him my thong, \n\n         I let him take a long and ling'ring look. \n\n         I led him on. \n\n         He studied my thong, \n\n         And from that point I had the president hooked. \n\n         That night when I took the president some pizza, \n\n         I made sure that he knew that he could have a piece. \n\n         We went into the hallway by his study \n\n         And dispensed with formalities. \n\n                         TRIPP: Oh please go on! \n\n         You must go on! \n\n         Come on, girlfriend, \n\n         Spill, spill, spill, spill, spill! \n\n         Now go on, \n\n         Please go on. \n\n         Did Clinton let you say hi to Little Bill? \n\n           \n\n                         LEWINSKY: His lips and mine locked in a kiss fantastic, \n\n         His hands roved freely 'neath my blouse, \n\n         I reached into the presidential trousers, \n\n         And he got a phone call from a member of the House. \n\n         So I went on, \n\n         While he talked on the phone, \n\n         I took a position before him on my knees, \n\n         And I went on. \n\n         And he talked on. \n\n         Though what the congressman heard was \n\n          \"Please, please, please, please, please!\" \n\n         But then we didn't go on! \n\n                         TRIPP: You didn't go on? \n\n                         LEWINSKY: No, he stopped me when he seemed upon the cusp. \n\n                         TRIPP: So you didn't go on? \n\n                         LEWINSKY: No, we didn't go on. \n\n         He said he wasn't sure if I was someone he \n\n         Could \n\n         Trust. \n\n                         [The lights fade as the girlfriends engage in cross talk.]              \n\n                         TRIPP: Trust? \n\n                         LEWINSKY: That's why we didn't go on. \n\n                         TRIPP: That's so weird! What did he think? That you'd go blabbin' this to the whole world? \n\n                         LEWINSKY: I mean--rilly! Hey, what's that clicking? \n\n                         TRIPP: It's just my gum. \n\n                         LEWINSKY: Oh--OK! \n\n                         [As the relationship between Clinton and Monica continues, some members of the White House staff become worried about the prudence of continuing the relationship with so much potential for scandal. This song is a conversation between Betty Currie, who, though worried, still thinks Monica is a good person, and the rather stonier EVELYN LIEBERMAN .]              \n\n         \"Time to Go\" \n\n                         CURRIE: They go back there, \n\n         They're just talking, \n\n         I'm sure she has a very thirsty mind. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: I don't mind a girl who thinks, \n\n         It's just what she picks to drink. \n\n         Betty, it's Lewinsky's time to go. \n\n                         CURRIE: She brings him \n\n         Little presents. \n\n         She really is a very thoughtful soul. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: It's not the junk I mind as much \n\n         As her up real close and personal touch. \n\n         I tell ya, it's Miss Monica's time to go. \n\n                         CURRIE: She never comes \n\n         When he's really busy. \n\n         Rarely is there anyone around. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: Still the Secret Service wears a frown. \n\n         They shouldn't worry, he pats her down. \n\n         But I'm not kidding, it's time for her to go. \n\n                         CURRIE: Maybe she would like the Pentagon. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: Good idea--don't wait! \n\n                         CURRIE: Studly guys work at the Pentagon. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: Let's get Clinton's head on straight! \n\n                         CURRIE: He comes back \n\n         From Easter services, \n\n         Soon she's bopping in the door. \n\n                         LIEBERMAN: \"Hallelujah, He Is Risen\" \n\n         Shouldn't inspire thoughts so sizzlin'. \n\n         Yes, it's really time for Monica to go. \n\n          \n\n            [Times passes. Monica moves to the Pentagon, but the relationship intermittently continues. Meanwhile, Paula Jones sues the president for sexual harassment, and it seems clear that before long, Clinton will have to testify under oath. Two close observers of those developments are old friends Linda Tripp and LUCIENNE GOLDBERG , who is friendly with lawyers for Jones and lawyers in the office of Independent Counsel KENNETH STARR . One day, Tripp and Goldberg talk on the phone.]              \n\n         \"Talk, Talk, Chat, Chat\" (sprightly) \n\n                         GOLDBERG and TRIPP: Talk, talk, \n\n         Chat, chat, \n\n         Two old galpals swap the latest word. \n\n         Talk, talk, \n\n         Chat, chat, \n\n         Two old girlfriends dish the latest dirt. \n\n                         GOLDBERG: I got tickets \n\n         To the opera, \n\n         Bloomie's says I've got $40 due, \n\n         I lost a filling \n\n         At lunch on Thursday. \n\n         That's it for me, \n\n         Now tell me what's up with you. \n\n                         TRIPP: My friend Monica? \n\n         From the White House? \n\n         I'm pretty sure what she's saying here is true. \n\n         It seems this Monica chick \n\n         Has been sucking the president's-- \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Oh that's sick! \n\n                         TRIPP: And the two of them are going to lie about it, \n\n         Too. \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Back up, Linda, \n\n         Did I hear you rightly? \n\n         Clinton got into an intern's pants? \n\n         God, this news is manna, Linda! \n\n         At last our cause will finally have it's chance! \n\n                         TRIPP: Oh, you're a dreamer Luci! \n\n         There'll be headlines, then he'll pull off an \n\n         Escape. \n\n         He'll spin the story, he'll turn the tables-- \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Unless you get that airhead down on tape. \n\n                         TRIPP: What? \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Unless you get that silly, vapid, trampy time bomb \n\n         Down on tape. \n\n                         TRIPP: Oh--one more thing ... \n\n                         GOLDBERG: What? \n\n                         TRIPP: There's a dress ... \n\n                         GOLDBERG: Hold on, let me call Sparky. \n\n          \n\n            [Independent Counsel Starr uses Tripp to detain Monica. A few days later, the news breaks. On the advice of his pal Harry Thomason, Clinton flat-out lies to his wife, to his loyalists, and to the public about the relationship.]              \n\n         \"I Never Have\" (performance should build in tempo and intensity) \n\n                         CLINTON: You know I'd like to answer questions, \n\n         An act my lawyers won't allow. \n\n         I'll give you more not less, sooner not later, \n\n         I just can't say a word right now. \n\n         But I don't know why she'd say these things \n\n         Her head's full of who knows what. But I never had sex with that woman \n\n         I never had sex with that n-- \n\n         Starr has spent $40 million, \n\n         There's desperation on his face. \n\n         An utter waste of public money, \n\n         A prosecutorial disgrace. \n\n         All he's got is some recordings \n\n         Made by a vengeful snitch. \n\n         I never had sex with that woman \n\n         I never had sex with that b-- \n\n         A vast right-wing conspiracy \n\n         Is using her to beat on me. \n\n         They wanna torpedo my agenda \n\n         They hate me and Hillary. \n\n         But I will never let them ruin \n\n         Our dreams for a better world. \n\n         I tell ya, I never had sex with that woman \n\n         I never had sex with that \n\n         Girl. \n\n          \n\n            [Months of investigation, legal wrangling, and public relations campaigning follow. Starr's tactics come under heavy fire, to which he responds.]              \n\n         \"Crossing the Line\" \n\n                         STARR: It's true Monica asked to lawyer up, \n\n         Which Bittman put the lid on. \n\n         And I felt bad about her mommy's grilling \n\n         Upon our little gridiron. \n\n         The Democrats and liberals \n\n         Blast these tactics of mine, \n\n         But a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do \n\n         When the president crosses the line. \n\n         He's crossed the line. \n\n         He's crossed the line. \n\n         Only a fool wouldn't stretch the rules \n\n         When the president crosses the line. \n\n         It may have seemed like dirty pool \n\n         To drag his people 'fore the jury. \n\n         We wasted lots of Vernon's time, \n\n         May have busted Bettie Currie. \n\n         His aides aren't the innocent bystanders \n\n         As they claim when they moan and whine. \n\n         They won't say what they know full well: \n\n         The president crossed the line. \n\n         He's crossed the line. \n\n         He's crossed the line. \n\n         I'd be a nitwit not to bend a bit \n\n         When the president crosses the line. \n\n         The talking heads are accusing me \n\n         Of laying a perjury trap. \n\n         But all it catches is lying men. \n\n         Honest men beat the rap. \n\n         There's people who say I'm against sex; \n\n         I've had sex. It's fine. \n\n         But lying about it gets my blood up \n\n         And the president's crossed the line. \n\n         I crossed the line. \n\n         I crossed the line. \n\n         Tell Steve Brill I'll leak at will \n\n         When the president crosses the line. \n\n          \n\n            [After months of denials and futile delays, Clinton finally testifies before the Starr grand jury and argues that, technically, he didn't lie.]              \n\n         \"Testimony\" (snappy) \n\n                         CLINTON: Depends what the definition of \"is\" is, \n\n         Depends on the meaning of sex, \n\n         \"Alone together\" is literal nonsense, \n\n         Before you reach conclusions, read your text. \n\n                         [Afterward, he speaks to the nation, admits doing wrong, and apologizes, though grudgingly.]              \n\n                         CLINTON: Inappropriate was the nature of our actions, \n\n         And believe me I regret the whole damn thing, \n\n         But inappropriate are all these personal questions, \n\n         The country doesn't need to know these things. \n\n          \n\n            [Clinton's enemies reject his apology, and soon the House of Representatives begins the long process of impeachment. NEWT GINGRICH here discloses his approach.]              \n\n         \"Bring 'em Down\" (dark, moody) \n\n                         GINGRICH: Mustn't seem to be too cheerful, \n\n         Mustn't overreach, \n\n         Must remember to seem unhappy \n\n         That we're going to impeach. \n\n         Must remember to remain sober \n\n         As we undertake this chore. \n\n         At the same time, let's remember \n\n         To pin some stuff on Gore. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n         Sure, they were elected, \n\n         Twice, in point of fact. \n\n         Voters obviously were bewildered \n\n         To have made a choice like that. \n\n         Now, like charging linemen, \n\n         We'll move in for the sack. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n         Bring 'em down. \n\n          \n\n            [The House votes to hold impeachment hearings. But just a few weeks later, the midterm elections, which are expected to go the GOP's way, are held. Contrary to predictions, the Democrats pick up seats, and the GOP's obsession with scandal is repudiated. Gingrich resigns, and the practical chances of Clinton's removal evaporate. As the show ends, we hear from Starr, Lewinsky, and Clinton.]              \n\n         \"The People Have Spoken\" (dramatic, stirring) \n\n                         STARR: The election was held and the people have spoken, \n\n         I can't believe what they had to say. \n\n         I had Clinton boxed into a corner \n\n         Looks like he's going to get away. \n\n         I spent four years and 40 million \n\n         That's a lot of time and loot. \n\n         I made Clinton look ridiculous, \n\n         But the only scalp I got was Newt's. \n\n           \n\n                         LEWINSKY: The election was held and the people have spoken, \n\n         I can't believe what they had to say. \n\n         My boyfriend is still in office \n\n         And he might return to me one day. \n\n         You think perhaps that he will not want me \n\n         For all the trouble I've caused so far, \n\n         But he knows I can always make him happy \n\n         With my thong and my cigar. \n\n                         CLINTON: The election was held and the people have spoken, \n\n         I can't believe what they had to say. \n\n         The removal threat is over, \n\n         Kenneth Starr should go away. \n\n         I tell you, though, it is a mystery, \n\n         I mean, I'm unfaithful and I lie. \n\n         I might be guilty of obstruction, \n\n         Yet my ratings are sky-high. \n\n         That must mean I'm a pretty good president, \n\n         Though how, I don't think I know. \n\n         But obviously I'm not Starr or Gingrich, \n\n         Which may be why they love me so. \n\n         Which may be why they love me so. \n\n                         [Curtain.]\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the message of the piece?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_1", "options": ["Although wrongdoings happened, the public seemed to think what they had was better than making a change", "There is no place for personal affairs in the political space and they will not distract congress", "Politicians who have affairs will not be found out", "A president can be removed from office for an affair"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Gingrich’s role in the piece?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_2", "options": ["He intercepts talk of the affair and is the whistleblower", "He is the lawyer for Lewinsky", "He and Linda are congress people", "He organizes impeachment, eventually resigns"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the important thing for Linda to do?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_3", "options": ["Cover up the details for Monica", "Speak with the president", "Deny ever hearing Monica tell the story", "Get a recording of Monica telling the story"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who are the parties in the story that think it’s time to move Monica to another office?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_4", "options": ["Betty and Starr", "Evelyn and Betty", "Starr and Newt", "Newt and Evelyn"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the musical’s relationship like between Monica and Linda?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_5", "options": ["Monica and Linda conspired together to hatch the plan", "Monica keeps reiterating the story over and over in different ways to Linda", "Linda does not believe what Monica is telling here and discredits it", "Linda presses for details and Monica obliges"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are some of the feelings that Bill’s character has in the story in the correct order from start to finish?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_6", "options": ["Surprise, secrecy, humility", "Loneliness, contempt, vulnerability, disbelief", "Loneliness, violence, anger, disbelief", "Truthfulness, shame, justice"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the musical number portray the relationship between Bill and Monica?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_7", "options": ["Monica knew Bill before she became his intern and was skeptical of his conduct", "Monica and Bill kept their relationship entirely a secret", "Bill sought out Monica specifically to be his intern", "Monica led Bill on and seduced him"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why would the president need an intern?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_8", "options": ["The intern would organize things for the other Oval office staff", "To save money during a government shut down", "He never did have an intern", "It was a cover up to keep the affair going"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What happened with the impending government shut down at the opening of the musical number?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_9", "options": ["The shutdown threat is only mentioned at the start and not again", "The government shut down entirely", "The shutdown caused greater interest in the president’s personal life because there was nothing else to focus on", "The shutdown was avoided with the actions of the President"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the nature of Monica and Bill’s interactions in the musical?", "question_unique_id": "20020_TRPTAKN4_10", "options": ["Bill sends Monica letters and asks her to be his intern", "Monica brings Bill desserts and visits at busy, stressful times", "Monica shows up at less busy times and brings presents", "Bill avoids Monica but she is persistent in he pursuit"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20051", "set_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "Reading the Inaugurals", "year": "1997", "author": "Herbert Stein", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Reading the Inaugurals \n\n         President Clinton's Inaugural Address this month is the 53 rd in the series that began in 1789. All are worth a read--not just the highlights, such as George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and FDR. They will give you a feeling of being there, not as an omniscient historian of 1997 looking back at 1837 or 1897 but as an ordinary citizen who shares--and is limited by--the information, the concerns, and the values of those times. (Thanks to Columbia University, all the addresses can be found on the Web.) \n\n         Among all the past presidents and their speech writers there was only one literary genius: Lincoln. After 132 years, his second inaugural still brings tears to your eyes and chills your blood. None of the other inaugural addresses are in that league. But by and large they are dignified and intelligent speeches given by articulate men, each in touch with his times and aware that his inauguration was the most solemn occasion of his life. \n\n         The stance and style of the inaugurals seem to have gone through three phases. The first, lasting until Lincoln, was that of the modest, classic public servant. The second, lasting through William Howard Taft, was of the prosaic government executive. The third, in which we are still, is the phase of the assertive, theatrical leader-preacher. This classification is not waterproof. Theodore Roosevelt may belong in the third phase and Warren G. Harding-Calvin Coolidge-Herbert Hoover in the second. But the trend is clear. \n\n         On picking up Washington's first inaugural, one is immediately struck by the modesty. He had just been elected unanimously by the Electoral College. He was more respected than any subsequent president has been at the time of his inauguration. And what does he say? \n\n                         [T]he magnitude and difficulty of the trust to which the voice of my country called me, being sufficient to awaken in the wisest and most experienced of her citizens a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifications, could not but overwhelm with despondence one who (inheriting inferior endowments from nature and unpracticed in the duties of civil administration) ought to be peculiarly conscious of his own deficiencies.              \n\n          None of his successors has made the point as forcefully as that. But echoes are to be found in almost every president for the next 68 years. (John Adams was an exception. He was apparently so envious of Washington that he spent a large part of his address spelling out his own excellent qualifications for the job.) That era ended with Lincoln. Subsequent inaugurals routinely contain protestations of humility, but they are perfunctory and do not sound sincere. \n\n         The antebellum modesty, while in part a reflection of the conventional etiquette of the time, may also have served a political objective: to alleviate the concerns of those who--in the early days of the republic--feared it might be transformed into a monarchy, and the president into a king. A little later, perhaps after 1820, a new worry arose. Would the power of the federal government be used to interfere with the \"peculiar domestic institution\" of the Southern states? The presidents' assurance of the limitation of their powers may have been intended to give comfort to those states. \n\n         Lincoln faced a different situation. With the South already seceding, he could only \"preserve, protect and defend the Constitution\" by asserting the power of the federal government and his own power as chief executive. It was no time for modesty. Lincoln's successors inherited a federal government with much more authority--and more need to use it--than before the war, and they had less motivation to belittle themselves and their powers. \n\n         In the third phase, the Inaugural Address metamorphosed from describing the government's policy to inspiring the public's behavior. Presidents recognized--or, at least, believed--that the country had problems they ought to deal with but could not manage by using the instruments of government alone. Thus, in his first inaugural, Woodrow Wilson said: \"At last a vision has been vouchsafed us of our life as a whole. We see the bad with the good, the debased and decadent with the sound and the vital. With this vision we approach new affairs.\" \n\n         If the country is debased and decadent, the cure has to come from uplifting the people, not from acts of government. Similar diagnoses and prescriptions appear in later inaugurals. \n\n          Presidents derived their license to serve as leader-preacher from Theodore Roosevelt's remark that the presidency was \"a bully pulpit,\" a remark that did not appear in his Inaugural Address. The metaphor of the pulpit suggests not reading but oral and visual contact between the preacher and his flock. Radio and--even more--television made this possible on a national scale. A telltale sign of the leader-preacher inaugural is the use of the phrase, \"Let us ... \"--meaning, \"You do as I say.\" This expression appears occasionally throughout the history of inaugurals, but it has hit its stride in recent years. John F. Kennedy repeated it 16 times in his Inaugural Address, and Richard Nixon has it 22 times in his second one. \n\n         The change in literary style from classical to colloquial can be demonstrated by one statistic. In all the inaugurals from Washington through James Buchanan, the average number of words per sentence was 44. From Lincoln to Wilson it was 34, and since Wilson it has been 25. I do not consider this a deterioration (this article has an average of 17 words per sentence), but it does reflect the change in the size and character of the audience and in the means of communication. William Henry Harrison could talk about the governments of Athens, Rome, and the Helvetic Confederacy and expect his audience to know what he was talking about. That wouldn't be true today. But Harrison's audience would not have known what the Internet was. \n\n         Presidents and their speech writers have mined their predecessors for memorable words and repeated them without attribution. Kennedy's trumpet call, \"Ask not what your country can do for you: Ask what you can do for your country,\" has an ironic history. In his inaugural, Harding, surely no model for Kennedy, had said, \"Our most dangerous tendency is to expect too little of government, and at the same time do for it too little.\" And even before he became president, in a speech in 1916, Harding had said, \"In the great fulfillment we must have a citizenship less concerned about what the government can do for it and more anxious about what it can do for the nation.\" \n\n         Many an issue frets its hour on the inaugural stage and then is heard no more. That includes the Indians, the coastal fortifications, territorial expansion, the Isthmus Canal, civil-service reform, polygamy, and Prohibition. Some subjects that you expect to appear, don't. Hoover's inaugural, March 4, 1929, gives no hint of economic vulnerability. Roosevelt's second inaugural, Jan. 20, 1937, contains no reference to Hitler or to Germany. But what is most amazing, at least to a reader in 1997, is the silence of the inaugurals on the subject of women. The word \"women\" does not appear at all until Wilson's first inaugural, and it always appears as part of the phrase \"men and women,\" never as referring to any special concerns of women. Even Harding, the first president to be chosen in an election in which women voted nationally, does not remark on the uniqueness of the fact in his inaugural. \n\n          One subject that does get ample treatment is taxes. \"Taxes,\" or some equivalent word, appears in 43 of the 52 inaugural addresses to date. Coolidge said in 1925: \"The time is arriving when we can have further tax reduction. ... I am opposed to extremely high rates, because they produce little or no revenue, because they are bad for the country, and, finally, because they are wrong.\" Federal taxes were then about 3 percent of the gross domestic product. Ronald Reagan said essentially the same thing in 1981, when they were 20 percent. \n\n         The most disturbing aspect of the whole series of inaugurals is what is said and unsaid on the subject of race relations, which Arthur Schlesinger Jr. calls \"the supreme American problem.\" The words \"black,\" \"blacks,\" \"Negro,\" or \"race\" (as applied to blacks) do not appear at all until Rutherford Hayes, 1877. James Monroe asked in 1817, \"On whom has oppression fallen in any quarter of our Union? Who has been deprived of any right of person or property?\" These were rhetorical questions, intended to get the answer \"No one!\"--as if there were not millions of slaves in America. \n\n         Before the Civil War the word \"slavery\" appears only in the Inaugural Address of Martin Van Buren, 1837, and Buchanan, 1857, and then only as something that, pursuant to the Constitution and in order to preserve the Union, should not be interfered with. But although generally unmentionable, the subject was boiling, and would boil over in 1861. After the Civil War, it is in the inaugurals of Hayes, James Garfield (1881), and Benjamin Harrison (1889) that we find the most explicit and positive discussion of the need to convert into reality the rights and freedom granted to the \"freedmen\" on paper by the 13 th , 14 th , and 15 th amendments. Garfield's was the strongest among these. (He had been a student at Williams College in the 1850s, 80 years before me, when the college had been a station on the underground railway.) But the subject then began to fade. William McKinley said in his first Inaugural Address, March 4, 1897, \"Lynchings must not be tolerated in a great and civilized country like the United States,\" but he said it without horror. Taft raised the subject of race relations in 1909 only to express satisfaction at the progress that had been made. And then the subject disappeared. FDR never mentioned it in any of his four inaugurals. \n\n         After World War II the subject came back to inaugural addresses, but in a weak and abstract form. That is true even of the presidents we think of as being most concerned with race relations in America--like Harry Truman, Lyndon Johnson, and Bill Clinton. Perhaps each thought he had made a sufficient statement by having a black woman--Marian Anderson, Leontyne Price, or Maya Angelou--perform at his ceremony. In Clinton's first inaugural, the only allusion to the race problem is in this sentence: \"From our revolution, the Civil War, to the Great Depression to the civil rights movement, our people have always mustered the determination to construct from these crises the pillars of our history.\" I recall this not to suggest that their concern was not deep and sincere, but only to indicate what is acceptable to say in a speech intended to appeal to the values shared by Americans. \n\n         There is much more to ponder in these speeches than I have suggested here. There is much to be proud of, in what we have endured and achieved, in the peaceful transference of power, and in the reasonableness and moderation of the presidents we have elected. But there is also much humility to be learned. We look back with amazement at the ignorance and moral obtuseness revealed by what our past leaders have said and our past citizens believed. We should recognize that 50 or 100 years from now, readers will shake their heads at what we are saying and believing today. \n\n          \n\n            POSTSCRIPT: To read Herbert Stein's analysis of President Clinton's second Inaugural Address, click .\n", "questions": [{"question": "Where was the turning point for inaugural speeches no longer revealing humility in the author’s view?", "question_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR_1", "options": ["After Wilson", "After Lincoln", "After Roosevelt", "After Washington"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What stages does the author describe the inaugural addresses going through over time?", "question_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR_2", "options": ["Modesty, inspirational, executive portrayal", "Flaunting of executive power, modesty, inspiration", "Modesty, inspiration", "Modesty, executive portrayal, inspirational"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which is a true thesis that the author presents in their piece?", "question_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR_3", "options": ["Presidents recycle sentiments from past speeches without crediting the original speaker", "Presidents do not treat the inaugural speech with enough sincerity", "Presidents rely on focus groups to direct the content of the speech", "Presidents have almost never written their own speeches"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How is the topic of slavery treated in inaugural speeches?", "question_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR_4", "options": ["It is not treated with proper gravity, and referred to only in terms of progress", "Is was mentioned 17 times in the Roosevelt address", "It is often referenced in inaugural speeches from the 1850s through the 1960s", "Its reference depends on the political party in power"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the author’s overall thesis about inaugural speeches?", "question_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR_5", "options": ["They are largely useless", "They present a snapshot of the views and beliefs of their time", "They are a cryptic way to interpret history", "They are the standard to hold the president accountable to"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the most spoken about topic in inaugural speeches that were analyzed?", "question_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR_6", "options": ["Foreign wars", "Slavery", "Women's rights", "Taxes"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do the most recent speeches that were analyzed compare to the earlier speeches?", "question_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR_7", "options": ["They are getting longer overall, but with less substance", "They contain less jargon than prior years", "They contain shorter sentences and try to unite people", "They are generally becoming more humble as time goes on"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are the elements that the author seems most perplexed by in the inaugural speeches?", "question_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR_8", "options": ["The lack of coverage of taxes as a public issue", "The consistent use of one phrase through all of the inaugural speeches", "The increasing amount of words per sentence over time", "The lack of discussion of hot topics by presidents inaugurated during those eras"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author think about inaugural speech writers compared with the delivering presidents?", "question_unique_id": "20051_AP3PWHCR_9", "options": ["The writers are considered to be just as important as the delivering president", "The writers are highly applauded", "The writers are cast aside as unimportant in the process", "The subject is not covered"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20056", "set_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "Folie ?", "year": "1998", "author": "Jim Holt", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Folie ࠎ \n\n         People with high IQs tend to be nearsighted. This is not because they read a lot or stare at computer screens too much. That common-sense hypothesis has been discredited by research. Rather, it is a matter of genetics. The same genes that tend to elevate IQ also tend to affect the shape of the eyeball in a way that leads to myopia. This relationship--known in genetics as \"pleiotropy\"--seems to be completely accidental, a quirk of evolution. \n\n         Could there be a similar pleiotropy between madness and mathematics? Reading this absolutely fascinating biography by Sylvia Nasar, an economics writer for the New York Times , I began to wonder. Its subject, John Nash, is a mathematical genius who went crazy at the age of 30 and then, after several decades of flamboyant lunacy, was awarded the Nobel Prize in economics for something he had discovered as a graduate student. (He is now about to turn 70.) Nash is among the latest in a long and distinguished line of mathematicians--stretching back to that morbid paranoiac, Isaac Newton--who have been certifiably insane during parts of their lives. \n\n         Just in the last 100 years or so, most of the heroic figures in the foundations of mathematics have landed in mental asylums or have died by their own hand. The greatest of them, Kurt Gödel, starved himself to death in the belief that his colleagues were putting poison in his food. Of the two pioneers of game theory--the field in which Nash garnered his Nobel--one, Ernst Zermelo, was hospitalized for psychosis. The other, John Von Neumann, may not have been clinically insane, but he did serve as the real-life model for the title character in Stanley Kubrick's Dr. Strangelove . \n\n         So maybe there is an accidental, pleiotropic connection between madness and mathematics. Or maybe it isn't so accidental. Mathematicians are, after all, people who fancy that they commune with perfect Platonic objects--abstract spaces, infinite numbers, zeta functions--that are invisible to normal humans. They spend their days piecing together complicated, scrupulously logical tales about these hallucinatory entities, which they believe are vastly more important than anything in the actual world. Is this not a kind of a folie à n (where n equals the number of pure mathematicians worldwide)? \n\n          ABeautiful Mind reveals quite a lot about the psychic continuum leading from mathematical genius to madness. It is also a very peculiar redemption story: how three decades of raging schizophrenia, capped by an unexpected Nobel Prize, can transmute a cruel shit into a frail but decent human being. \n\n         As a boy growing up in the hills of West Virginia, Nash enjoyed torturing animals and building homemade bombs with two other unpopular youngsters, one of whom was accidentally killed by a blast. (Given Nash's childhood keenness for explosives and his later penchant for sending odd packages to prominent strangers through the mail, it's a wonder the FBI never got on to him as a Unabomber suspect.) He made his way to Carnegie Tech, where he was a classmate of Andy Warhol's, and thence to Princeton--the world capital of mathematics at the time--at the age of 20. \n\n         In sheer appearance, this cold and aloof Southerner stood out from his fellow math prodigies. A \"beautiful dark-haired young man,\" \"handsome as a god,\" he was 6 feet 1 inch tall, with broad shoulders, a heavily muscled chest (which he liked to show off with see-through Dacron shirts), a tapered waist, and \"rather limp and beautiful hands\" accentuated by long fingernails. Within two years of entering Princeton, Nash had framed and proved the most important proposition in the theory of games. \n\n          Mathematically, this was no big deal. Game theory was a somewhat fashionable pursuit for mathematicians in those postwar days, when it looked as if it might do for military science and economics what Newton's calculus had done for physics. But they were bored with it by the early 1950s. Economists, after a few decades of hesitation, picked it up in the '80s and made it a cornerstone of their discipline. \n\n          Agame is just a conflict situation with a bunch of participants, or \"players.\" The players could be poker pals, oligopolists competing to corner a market, or nuclear powers trying to dominate each other. Each player has several strategy options to choose from. What Nash showed was that in every such game there is what has become known as a \"Nash equilibrium\": a set of strategies, one for each player, such that no player can improve his situation by switching to a different strategy. His proof was elegant but slight. A game is guaranteed to have a Nash equilibrium, it turns out, for the same reason that in a cup of coffee that is being stirred, at least one coffee molecule must remain absolutely still. Both are direct consequences of a \"fixed-point theorem\" in the branch of mathematics known as topology. This theorem says that for any continuous rearrangement of a domain of things, there will necessarily exist at least one thing in that domain that will remain unchanged--the \"fixed point.\" Nash found a way of applying this to the domain of all game strategies so that the guaranteed fixed point was the equilibrium for the game--clever, but the earlier topological theorem did all the work. Still, for an economics theorem, that counts as profound. Economists have been known to win Nobel Prizes for rediscovering theorems in elementary calculus. \n\n         Nash's breakthrough in game theory got him recruited by the Rand Corp., which was then a secretive military think tank in Santa Monica (its name is an acronym for \"research and development\"). However, the achievement did not greatly impress his fellow mathematicians. To do that, Nash, on a wager, disposed of a deep problem that had baffled the profession since the 19 th century: He showed that any Riemannian manifold possessing a special kind of \"smoothness\" can be embedded in Euclidean space. Manifolds, one must understand, are fairly wild and exotic beasts in mathematics. A famous example is the Klein bottle, a kind of higher-dimensional Moebius strip whose inside is somehow the same as its outside. Euclidean space, by contrast, is orderly and bourgeois. To demonstrate that \"impossible\" manifolds could be coaxed into living in Euclidean space is counterintuitive and pretty exciting. Nash did this by constructing a bizarre set of inequalities that left his fellow mathematicians thoroughly befuddled. \n\n         That about marked the end of Nash's career as a mathematical genius. The next year, he was expelled from Rand as a security risk after local police caught him engaging in a lewd act in a public men's room near Muscle Beach. At MIT, where he had been given a teaching job, he hardly bothered with undergraduates and humiliated graduate students by solving their thesis problems. He carried on affairs with several men and a mistress, who bore him a son he refused to lift a finger to support. His cruel streak extended to the woman he married, a beautiful physics student named Alicia who was awed by this \"genius with a penis.\" Once, at a math department picnic, he threw her to the ground and put his foot on her throat. \n\n         All the while, Nash was showing an intense interest in the state of Israel--often a sign of incipient insanity, at least in a non-Jew. Geniuses slipping into madness also tend to disrobe in public (I learned this from a volume on chess prodigies, who have a proclivity for disrobing on public buses). Nash showed up for an MIT New Year's Eve party clad only in a diaper. And then, of course, there was the New York Times , that old mainstay of psychotic delusion--Nash thought aliens were sending him encrypted messages through its pages (come to think of it, that could explain the Times ' odd prose). \n\n          When the big breakdown came, it was properly mathematical. Fearing his powers might be waning as he approached 30, Nash decided he would solve the most important unresolved problem in mathematics: the Riemann Zeta conjecture. This bold guess about the solutions to a certain complex-valued infinite series (made by the incomparable Bernhard Riemann in 1859) would, if true, have far-reaching implications for the structure of the most basic of entities, the natural numbers. Before an eager audience of hundreds of mathematicians at Columbia University in 1959, Nash presented his results: a farrago of mathematical lunacy. \"Nash's talk wasn't good or bad,\" said one mathematician present. \"It was horrible.\" Some weeks before, Nash had declined a University of Chicago offer of an endowed chair on the grounds that he was scheduled to become the emperor of Antarctica. \n\n         Such ebullitions of insanity continued for three decades, becoming more rococo. Nash went to Europe to form a world government, attempting repeatedly to renounce his U.S. citizenship. He did stints in tony asylums, hanging out with Robert Lowell, and in dismal state institutions, where he was subjected daily to insulin-induced comas. He believed himself to be a Palestinian refugee called C.O.R.P.S.E.; a great Japanese shogun, C1423; Esau; the prince of peace; l'homme d'Or ; a mouse. As Nasar observes, his delusions were weirdly inconsistent. He felt himself simultaneously to be the epicenter of the universe--\"I am the left foot of God on earth\"--and an abject, persecuted petitioner. \n\n         He returned to the Princeton area in the 1970s, where he was taken care of by the long-suffering Alicia, now his ex-wife (she supported him partly through computer programming, partly on welfare). He haunted the campus, where students began to call him \"the Phantom.\" They would come to class in the morning to find runic messages he had written on the blackboard at night: \"Mao Tse-Tung's Bar Mitzvah was 13 years, 13 months, and 13 days after Brezhnev's circumcision.\" \n\n         Then, in the '90s, inexplicably, the voices in Nash's head began to quiet down. (Nasar gives an interesting account of just how rare such remissions are among those diagnosed with schizophrenia.) At the same time, the Nobel committee in Stockholm was deciding it was about time to award the prize in economics for game theory. Dare they make a known madman into a laureate? What might he say to King Gustav at the ceremony? Nasar shows her mettle as a reporter here by penetrating the veil of secrecy surrounding the Nobel and revealing the back-stage machinations for and against Nash's candidacy. He did fine at the ceremony, by the way. \n\n          Indeed, he has evolved into a \"very fine person,\" according to his ex-wife--humbled by years of psychotic helplessness, buoyed up by the intellectual world's highest accolade. The Nobel has a terrible effect on the productivity of many recipients, paralyzing them with greatness. For Nash it was pure therapy. Then, too, there is the need to take care of his son by Alicia, who--pleiotropically?--inherited both his mathematical promise and his madness. (His older son, the one born out of wedlock, got neither.) The Nobel money bought a new boiler for the little bungalow across from the Princeton train station inhabited by this shaky menage. (When Vanity Fair published an excerpt of A Beautiful Mind , Nash probably became the only person ever featured in that magazine to live in a house clad in \"insulbrick.\") \n\n         The eeriest thing I discovered while reading this superb book was that Nash and I came within a couple of years of crossing paths in a Virginia mental hospital. I was actually working there, but psychiatric aides pick up so many mannerisms of the patients that it's hard to tell the difference after a while. A few years after that I found myself in a mathematics Ph.D. program. You'll be glad to know that I'm in remission.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How is the author connected with Nash?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_1", "options": ["They were a student of Nash and witnessed his undoing", "They too are involved with both mathematics and asylums", "They were classmates of Nash", "They are writing a biography about Nash"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was Nash’s family involved in the story?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_2", "options": ["His two sons and previous wife were talked about", "His father was a large influence on his life", "His mother’s influence was discussed at length", "His parents and wife were discussed"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What were some of the themes in Nash’s later years?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_3", "options": ["He settled into family life", "He oscillated between asylums and prison", "He saw patterns in letters and numbers", "He spent his years apologizing to those he had wronged"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was Nash viewed by his colleagues over time?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_4", "options": ["He lost respect for a period of time, but somewhat regained it with an honor later in life", "His exploits of madness were never public, so his colleagues always treated him the same", "He was initially respected, but then they came to reject him and he died in an asylum", "His colleagues accepted his quirks and treated him as an equal"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What were some of the reported events that the author brings up to justify Nash’s undoing?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_5", "options": ["Nudity, creating fake passports, communications with extraterrestrials", "Sending bombs, nudity, lewd public conduct", "Lewd public conduct, nudity, violence, communications with extraterrestrials", "Communicating with extraterrestrials, creating fake passports, violence"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What were some of Nash’s working habits?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_6", "options": ["Involving colleagues in round tables to brainstorm", "Yelling in his office", "It is never outlined", "Going on long retreats"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0027", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the significance of the fixed point to the story?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_7", "options": ["It was Nash’s claim to fame", "It is an analogy for his father", "It was the turning point of Nash’s behavior", "It turned out to be proved false and drove Nash mad"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was an early achievement of the main character the author focuses on?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_8", "options": ["Being invited to serve in the European Union as a mathematician", "Becoming a dean at Princeton", "Teaching at MIT", "Applying an old mathematical concept in a new and exciting way"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many major mathematical problems does Nash solve that are mentioned in the article?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_9", "options": ["Zero", "Three", "Five", "Seven"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author hypothesize is connected in human genetics?", "question_unique_id": "20056_IMXXLOR8_10", "options": ["Storytelling and madness", "Madness and math abilities", "Madness and math abilities, eye color and IQ", "Political activism and math abilities"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20044", "set_unique_id": "20044_JOO9J86N", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "Diamonds in the Rough", "year": "1996", "author": "John Pastier", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Diamonds in the Rough \n\n         Fourscore and seven years ago, the first steel and concrete baseball palace opened for business. Philadelphia's Shibe Park, home to the Athletics and later the Phillies, was one of 13 urban ballparks built in the seven-year period now regarded as the golden age of ballpark architecture. All but three (Wrigley Field, Fenway Park, and Tiger Stadium) have since been razed. \n\n          Replacing parks built of wood, these ballyards set new standards for size, fire safety, intimacy, and convenience. As places to watch ballgames, they were vastly superior to the post-World War II parks, especially the facilities designed in the late '60s and '70s that doubled as football stadiums. But these concrete monsters, plopped into vast parking lots in Houston, Pittsburgh, Cincinnati, Philadelphia, and elsewhere, lack the character of the classic parks. \n\n         Chicago's New Comiskey Park, which opened in 1991, attempted to address the character question with a superficial postmodern facade that in some ways resembled the exterior of the golden-era park it replaced. New Comiskey was marketed as an old-fashioned park with all the modern conveniences. But inside, it was still a symmetrical concrete monster, and it sat in the middle of a 7,000-car parking lot rather than in an urban neighborhood. \n\n         A year later, a new--yet more genuinely old--ballpark arrived to dispel the gloom. Baltimore's Oriole Park at Camden Yards revived the idea of a quirkily asymmetrical, relatively intimate, steel-structured, city-friendly ballpark. \"Once this opens,\" predicted Commissioner of Baseball Bart Giamatti, \"everyone will want one like it.\" And so it came to be: Camden Yards' successors in Cleveland, Arlington (Texas), and Denver, and those designed for Milwaukee, Seattle, and San Francisco, take their cues from Baltimore's conceptual breakthrough. Even totally nontraditional parks, like those in Phoenix, Miami, and Tampa Bay, emulate the asymmetry of the Camden Yards outfield. It's almost as though a disembodied voice intoned, \"If you build it, they will copy.\" \n\n         While Camden Yards and its offspring are almost universally praised, some of them don't deserve the hype. The most annoying hype is that all the new parks are intimate, and that every seat is better at the new place than the old. Intimacy has two aspects--actual size and the subjective perception of size and scale. A good architect can ace the second part of the test through convincing forms, good proportions, and attractive materials. The exposed steelwork, brick, stone, tile, and well-placed wall openings of the new parks beat the cold and sterile stadiums of a generation ago. \n\n         For the new parks' charms, we should be thankful. But in actual size, the new ballyards are not intimate. All their amenities--elevators, wider concourses, abundant toilets (especially for women), bathrooms, escalators, plentiful food stands, and luxury suites--make them far larger than the parks they claim to emulate. These parks are larger than even the multipurpose hulks we all love to hate. Compare, for instance, the spanking new Ballpark at Arlington (49,100 seats), which rests on 13.6 acres, to Seattle's Kingdome, a 58,000-seat multipurpose stadium that opened in 1976 and covers 9.3 acres. (Ebbets Field, home to the Brooklyn Dodgers, occupied a mere 5.7 acres and seated 32,000.) \n\n         Or compare heights: New Comiskey Park's roof is 146 feet above field level; old Comiskey Park was about 75 feet high. This is not ballpark trivia, but an indicator of fan experience: Upper-deck seats in the new, taller stadiums are farther away from the action. At Arlington, the fan sitting in the middle-row, upper-deck seat closest to home plate is 224 feet from the batter, compared to 125 feet at Tiger Stadium, a park with 4,300 more seats. \n\n         Why are upper-deck seats in the new parks so far from the game? Two reasons: column placement and luxury seating. \n\n         In the old parks, the structural columns stood within the seating areas, placing the upper-deck seats closer to the game. The trade-off was that these columns obstructed the view of some fans. Today's architects \"remedy\" the problem by placing the columns behind the seating areas, thus moving the upper decks back from the field. (It should be noted that the new parks' claim that they have no impaired-view seats is an overstatement.) \n\n         Added tiers devoted to luxury seating at the new parks also push the upper deck away from the field. The retreat of that deck is a century-long process, but it can be stemmed. The Orioles pressed for several design changes that lowered Camden Yards' top deck and produced a middle-row viewing distance of 199 feet, about eight rows closer than Arlington's. \n\n         Design references to golden-age ballparks are only one parallel between that period and ours. We are also matching that era's frenzied pace of construction: Twenty-six of Major League Baseball's 32 franchises occupy a park that is less than 10 years old; has been, or will be, extensively remodeled; or hope to move into a new one soon. \n\n         One of the classic parks' merits was that they were unsubsidized. Team owners bought land and paid for stadium construction--some even built trolley lines to transport fans to the games. In all but two cases during the last 65 years, taxpayers have covered most or all of the costs of stadium building. \n\n         The San Francisco Giants are planning a similar arrangement for their bayfront stadium, assembling about $240 million in private funds and persuading the city to pay for some of the infrastructure. The Giants say that other team owners are rooting against their scheme, because it calls into question the profligate public subsidies. Some of the subsidies exceed capital and maintenance costs: If the White Sox fail to draw 1.5 million annual fans at New Comiskey Park in the 11th through 20th years of their lease, the state of Illinois is contractually obliged to cover the shortfall at the gate by buying upto 300,000 tickets. \n\n         You'd expect that the public would get something, perhaps affordable seats, in return for subsidizing stadiums. Instead, the cheap seats in the new parks are scarcer. The Seattle Mariners' proposed park, for instance, will contain about one-fourth as many general-admission seats as the present location. This erosion of low-cost seats is a long-running trend. \n\n         So too is the dramatic increase in luxury seating, which is the primary real reason for the ballpark-building boom. The real gold mines are the posh luxury suites that lease for between $30,000 and $200,000 a year (payable in advance). A comparable moneymaker is the club deck, just above the first-tier seating. These pricey sections are occupied usually on a season-ticket basis, and offer the best sightlines, roomier seats, and wait staff who peddle gourmet fare. \n\n         The gilding doesn't end there: New parks also include members-only stadium clubs and on-premises bars and restaurants. \n\n          Naturally, owners don't advertise their new parks as a means of making life better for elite ticketholders. They say that only a new stadium will allow them to make enough money to stay in town or to field a competitive team and to allow fans to savor that old-time baseball flavor in greater comfort and convenience. Local taxpayers tend to lay off this pitch--they have voted these measures down in Illinois, Washington state, California, Wisconsin, and Michigan. Politically savvy owners usually bypass the voters and tap state governments directly for the money. \n\n         Larger and more lavish stadiums translate into greater land and construction costs. Operable roofs, such as those in Toronto's SkyDome, Phoenix's BankOne Ballpark, and those proposed for Seattle and Milwaukee, are budget-busters. Since most teams put up little (if any) of their own money, they have scant incentive to economize on the parks. In Seattle, Mariner management has demanded an operable roof even though the city has the driest weather in MLB outside California. The real problem with the Seattle climate is cold weather in spring and fall, but the unsealed roof won't make the park warmer or totally free of wind. \n\n         Lately, the cost of stadiums has ranged from about $300 million to $500 million. The multipurpose stadium that the Yankees want built on Manhattan's lower west side tentatively carries a $1 billion price tag. Add the financing and maintenance costs, and even a midpriced project goes through the retractable roof. At one point, the cost of the Brewers' proposed stadium grew from $250 million to $845 million, and that's not counting the value of the land. \n\n         The good news is that not every owner is demanding a castle for his team. All Pittsburgh Pirates owner Kevin McClatchy wants is a \"35,000-to-37,000-seat park with natural grass and no roof, bells, or whistles.\" Though his attitude is commendable, the proposed park will still cost about $200 million, and perhaps an equal amount in interest. \n\n         Why should the public chip in? Taxpayer subsidies don't produce cheaper tickets--they produce more expensive tickets. The average admission price (not counting club seats and suites) rises about 35 percent when a team moves into new digs. And independent economists (i.e., those not hired by stadium proponents) discount the claim that new stadiums spur regional economic growth. \n\n         But one compelling argument for subsidies is that new stadiums can pull their cities together when properly designed and sited. This requires a downtown or neighborhood location where lots of fans can take the bus or the train to the game; where they can walk to the stadium from work, hotels, restaurants, or bars; and where getting to the game is a communal event that is part of a broader urban experience. This is the case with older parks such as Wrigley Field and Fenway Park, and the new ones in Toronto, Baltimore, Cleveland, and Denver. \n\n         \"If you put them in the wrong place, it's a colossal waste of money,\" says the planning director of the city of Cleveland. \"But if you put them in the right place, the benefits are phenomenal,\" \n\n         Recent attendance patterns show that urban parks generate much better patronage than suburban ones or those in neither/nor locations. There are also strong indicators that suggest new urban parks have \"legs,\" retaining more of their patrons after the novelty wears off. But some teams deliberately seek isolated locations, where they can better monopolize parking revenues and game-related food, drink, and souvenir business. This is why the White Sox moated their park with 100 acres of parking, why the Milwaukee Brewers refuse to build downtown, and why the Mariners insisted on the most remote of Seattle's three ballpark-siting options. \n\n         Modern conveniences aside, the new baseball shrines are a mixed bag. Most are visually impressive, boast interestingly shaped playing fields, and start off as box-office hits. But too many of them are large and expensive, tend to live on the dole, and are hampered by seat layouts that create a caste system among fans. At their best, they strengthen their cities; at their worst, they exploit them. \n\n         The decision-making process behind the financing and building of new ballparks has become predictable, as have the designs. But the good news is that our stadium boom is far from over. If owners and public agencies can be persuaded to take a longer view of stadium economics and community concerns, we may yet see parks that better unite traditional character with modern convenience.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is a strategy that the author outlines stadium owners are using to increase revenue?", "question_unique_id": "20044_JOO9J86N_1", "options": ["Build stadiums in city centers", "Having attached theme parks", "Not prioritizing parking", "Building the stadium away from a city center"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the trend happening in new stadium construction?", "question_unique_id": "20044_JOO9J86N_2", "options": ["There are escalators to bring fans right from the parking lots", "All seats are getting closer to the action with new steel construction methods", "Fans spend more time in the restaurants than at their seats", "Cheap seats are getting further away from the action due to being higher from the field"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author explain is happening with the price of seating?", "question_unique_id": "20044_JOO9J86N_3", "options": ["The prices are unpredictable and based on attendance", "There are less luxury seats and more cheap seats", "Seat pricing is lower in the new stadiums because they can hold more people", "There are less low-cost seats than before"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the difference between how baseball stadiums used to be paid for and how they are paid for at the time of this writing?", "question_unique_id": "20044_JOO9J86N_4", "options": ["They have always been paid for by stadium owners, and the owners now have so much more money they can upgrade the parks", "They were paid for by team owners, and now mostly by taxpayers", "They have always been paid by taxpayers, but now there is more tax money going towards it", "They used to be payed for by taxes, but as they became more expensive the team owners began having to pay for them"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many baseball teams in the article are not playing in new stadiums or presently remodeling old ones at the time of the article?", "question_unique_id": "20044_JOO9J86N_5", "options": ["26", "0", "1", "6"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What are some of the things that the author thinks are detrimental about new stadium design?", "question_unique_id": "20044_JOO9J86N_6", "options": ["There are columns blocking the view from some seats", "The parking lots aren’t built efficiently", "There are not enough bathrooms for the expanding attendance", "The seating divides people in castes"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are the themes of the piece?", "question_unique_id": "20044_JOO9J86N_7", "options": ["Stadiums are less intimate, seats are getting further away and more expensive", "Stadium construction has adapted to mimic the old style and create equal viewing opportunities for all patrons", "Stadium owners should be applauded for taking on paying for the stadiums, but the stadiums are getting less intimate", "Although stadium size is increasing, it draws more economic activity to the community, but seats are getting further from the action"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are some of the design features that the author highlights as beneficial about the new park designs?", "question_unique_id": "20044_JOO9J86N_8", "options": ["The fields have new shapes", "There are more seats closer to the action", "There is a greater diversity of dining", "There are more parking spaces"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20031", "set_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": " My Father's Estate", "year": "1999", "author": "Ben Stein", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "My Father's Estate \n\n         A letter from an ill-mannered former high-school classmate of long ago, one of several like it, which I pass on in paraphrase: \"I saw that your father had died,\" she wrote. \"He was always so clever about money. Did he leave you a big estate? Did he figure out a way around the estate tax?\" It's a rude question, but it has an answer. \n\n         My sister and I have been going through my father's estate lately with his lawyer, and we're pawing through old, dusty files to find bank account numbers and rules for annuities, so maybe it's a good time to think about what my father, Herbert Stein, left to us. \n\n         He did indeed leave some money. By the standards we read about in the Wall Street Journal or Sports Illustrated , it was not worthy of much ink. In any event, because of the class-warfare-based death tax, the amount that will be left is vastly less than what he had saved. As an economist, my father was famous for defending taxes as a necessary evil. But even he was staggered, not long before his death, when he considered the taxes on his savings that would go to the Internal Revenue Service. \n\n         The nest egg is going to be taxed at a federal rate of about 55 percent, after an initial exemption and then a transition amount taxed at around 40 percent (and all that after paying estate expenses). When I think about it, I want to cry. My father and mother lived frugally all their lives. They never had a luxury car. They never flew first-class unless it was on the expense account. They never in their whole lives went on an expensive vacation. When he last went into the hospital, my father was still wearing an old pair of gray wool slacks with a sewed-up hole in them from where my dog ripped them--15 years ago. \n\n         They never had live-in help. My father washed the dishes after my mother made the meatloaf. My father took the bus whenever he could. His only large expenditure in his and my mom's whole lives was to pay for schools for his children and grandchildren. He never bought bottled, imported water; he said whatever came out of the tap was good enough for him. They still used bargain-basement furniture from before the war for their bedroom furniture and their couch. I never once knew them to order the most expensive thing in a restaurant, and they always took the leftovers home. \n\n         They made not one penny of it from stock options or golden parachutes. They made it all by depriving themselves in the name of thrift and prudence and preparing for the needs of posterity. To think that this abstemiousness and this display of virtue will primarily benefit the IRS is really just so galling I can hardly stand it. The only possible reason for it is to satisfy some urge of jealousy by people who were less self-disciplined. \n\n         There are a few material, tangible items that an assessor will have to come in to appraise. There are my father's books, from his days at Williams College and the University of Chicago, many of them still neatly underlined and annotated in his handwriting, which did not change from 1931 until days before his death. Most of them are about economics, but some are poetry. \n\n         That's another item my father left: his own poetry and his massive prose writings. Very little of it is about anything at all abstruse. There are no formulas and no graphs or charts, except from his very last years. There are many essays about how much he missed my mom when she died, about how much he loved the sights of Washington, about how dismaying it was that there was still so much confusion about basic issues in economics. And there are his satires of haiku about public policy, his takeoffs on Wordsworth and Shakespeare, often composed for a friend's birthday, then sometimes later published. I suppose there will not be much tax on these because my father was hardly a writer for the large audience. \n\n         Some of them will go to the Nixon Library, and some will be on bookshelves in the (very small and modest) house my wife and I own in Malibu, a place he found beguiling because he had always wanted to live by the ocean and write. And there are his furniture and his clothes, none of which has any value at all except to me because they remind me of him and because, when I stand near them in his closet, I can still smell his smell of hair and skin and leather shoes, the closet smelling a lot like he smelled when he came home from work in 1954 carrying a newspaper that said there could be no more racial segregation in schools. And there are his mementos of Richard Nixon, his White House cufflinks, photos of Camp David, certificates and honorary degrees, and clippings of great events of state. And there are his love letters to and from my mother when they were courting in 1935 and 1936, still tied with light blue ribbon in what was my mother's lingerie drawer, talking about their love triumphing over the dangers of the Depression. I suppose we'll have to place a value on these and have them taxed, too. \n\n         But these are the trivia of what he left me and my sister. The really valuable estate cannot be touched by the death tax. The man's legacy to his family has almost nothing to do with anything that can be appraised in dollars and cents. \n\n         The example of loyalty and principle: When he had just taken over as the chairman of President Nixon's Council of Economic Advisers, he hired a young staff economist named Ron Hoffman (brother of Dustin Hoffman). Almost immediately, John Dean, then White House counsel, came to see my father to tell him that he had to fire Hoffman. Apparently, Ron Hoffman had signed a public anti-war letter. The FBI, or whoever, said that showed he was not loyal and not qualified. My father said that this was a free country, that Ron Hoffman was hired as an economist not as a political flack for RN, and that he would not be fired because he disagreed with some aspect of Nixon policy. After much worrying, Hoffman was allowed to stay--and performed well. \n\n         My father was loyal, and the IRS cannot impound that legacy. When RN ran into every kind of problem after June of 1972, most of which were unearned and a chunk of which was earned, my father never thought of disavowing him or even distancing himself from Nixon. Even though he had an appointment to the University of Virginia in his pocket, Pop several times extended his stay at the White House to help out with the struggles over inflation and recession, and never once publicly said a word against Nixon. \n\n         Long after, when Nixon was blasted as an anti-Semite, my father told in print and in person of the Nixon he knew: kind; concerned about all on his staff, regardless of ethnicity; pro-Israel; pro-Jewish in every important cause. My father would never turn his back on a man who had been as conscientious to the cause of peace and as kind to the Stein family as RN had been. \n\n         \"Loyalty.\" There is no item for it in the inventory of estate assets to be taxed. \n\n         My father lived his life, especially in the latter years of it, in a haze of appreciation. Whatever small faults he could and did find with America, he endlessly reminded anyone who listened that the best achievement of mankind was America, whose current failings were trivial by historic standards, which was in a constant process of amelioration, and which offered its citizens the best chance in history for a good life. \n\n         When he did consider the failures of American life in the past, especially institutionalized racism, he did so to note the astonishing progress that had been made in his lifetime. He had no use for those who held up a mirror of fault-finding from the left or the right when he could see in his own era what vast improvements in freedom had been made for blacks, Jews, women, Asians, Hispanics, and every other minority. \n\n         He appreciated art, especially ballet and opera. He sat for hours in front of the television watching videos of Romeo and Juliet or Les Sylphides or Tosca . He lived to go to the Kennedy Center to see great ballet or opera, and he talked of it endlessly. But he also appreciated art in the form of obscure fountains in front of federal buildings, of the statues of Bolívar and George Washington and San Martin. He appreciated the intricate moldings on the ceiling of the second floor of the Cosmos Club. He was in awe of the beauty of the mighty Potomac in fall and of the rolling green hunt country around Middleburg and The Plains, Va., in summer. \n\n         This quality of gratitude for America and for the beauty of life cannot be taxed, at least not so far. \n\n         He appreciated his friends and did not differentiate between them on the basis of fame or position. He took the words of his longtime pal Murray Foss at the American Enterprise Institute, a think tank where he hung his hat for many years, into account; and the words of Mrs. Wiggins, who ran the cafeteria at the AEI; and the thoughts of Alan Greenspan or the head of Goldman, Sachs; and valued them entirely on their merits to him, not on the basis of how much press or money the speaker had. He never once in my lifetime's recall said that any man or woman deserved special respect for riches--in fact, like Adam Smith, he believed that the pleadings of the rich merited special suspicion. He did not believe that my sister or I should devote our lives to the pursuit of money, and by his life set an example to us of pursuing only what was interesting and challenging, not what paid the most. I never knew him to chase a deal or a job (he never in his whole life applied for a job!) for any other reason except that it was of interest to him. He derived more pleasure from speaking to his pals at the book club of the Cosmos Club about John Keats than he did from giving speeches to trade associations that paid him handsomely. \n\n         My father's stance against seeking money for its own sake--so wildly unsuited to today's age, but so reassuring to his children--cannot be taken by the Treasury. \n\n         Pop had a way of putting what I thought of as catastrophes into their rightful context. If I was hysterical about losing some scriptwriting job, my father would brush it aside as a basic risk, part of the life I had chosen. If my stocks went down, even dramatically, my father would explain that if I had a roof over my head and enough to eat, I was far, far ahead of the game. Most reassuring, my father would tell me that my family and I could always come to Washington, D.C., and live quietly, keeping him company, for which not a lot of money was required. (My father lived on a fraction of the income from his savings, even allowing for paying for his grandchildren's education.) \n\n         Once, about 25 years ago, when my boss treated me unfairly, my father said that if it happened again, I should quit and he would take care of me until I found a job. I never needed to do it, but the offer hung in my mind as a last refuge forever. \n\n         This reassurance--that somehow things will be all right, that there is a lot of ruin in a man, as well as in a nation, to paraphrase his idol, Adam Smith--has become part of me, and I can still summon it up when I am terrified because of a huge quarterly tax payment due or a bad day on the market. Again, the IRS taxes it at zero. \n\n         My father himself, as far as I know, inherited no money at all from his father. He did inherit a belief that hard work would solve most problems, that spending beyond one's means was a recipe for disaster, that flashy showoff behavior with borrowed money was understandable but foolish. He did inherit enough common sense to tell his son that buying property he would never live in was probably a bad mistake. (He rarely spoke in moral absolutes. He believed instead that humans could and would make individual choices but that there were surely consequences to those choices that could be considered.) He passed these beliefs on to me, although they have become somewhat attenuated by my 20-plus years in the fleshpots of Hollywood. Still, I am one of the only men I know here who has never been drastically short of money (so far), and that I attribute to hearing his rules of prudence. \n\n         Most of all, my father believed in loving and appreciating those persons close to him. He stayed close to all his pals from the Nixon days (and would not hear personal criticism of Pat Buchanan, who had been a friend and colleague, although he was bewildered by Pat's stands on many issues). He basked in the pleasure of the company of his colleagues and friends at the American Enterprise Institute, which he thought of as one of his three homes--the Cosmos Club and his extremely modest but well-situated apartment at the Watergate were the others. \n\n         He could form attachments readily. Even in his last days in the hospital, he took a liking to a Ukrainian-born doctor and used to refer to him as \"Suvorov,\" after the Russian general written of glowingly in War and Peace-- which still sits on the table next to his reading chair, with his notes on little pieces of paper in it. \n\n         He grieved like a banshee when my mother died in 1997 and never really got over the loss of a soul mate of 61 years, who literally dreamed the same dreams he did. Once, he wrote my mother a poem (which he called \"Route 29\") about the beauty of Route 29 north of Charlottesville, Va., and the pleasure of riding along it with my mom. He filed it away for further work and never touched it again. The day after my mother's death, he found it--with her reply poem telling of how she hoped to never see those hills and those clouds and those cattle with anyone else but Pop. She had written her poem (which she titled \"Only You\") and put it back in the file without ever telling him. He survived that terrible loss with the help of a beautiful widow, whom he also came to appreciate and live for. He probably spent more time trying to help her with an annuity problem than he ever did on any financial feature of his own life. A simple call from her inviting him to dinner in her kitchen on Kalorama Circle was enough to make his life complete. \n\n         Even in his hospital bed, hearing my son's voice on the phone could make him smile through the fear and the pain. (\"He sounds so sweet when he calls me 'Grandpa,' \" my father said, beaming even with tubes in him.) \n\n         Never once did my sister or I ever ask him for help that he hesitated, let alone declined, to give. Usually this was some research we were too lazy to do, but which he did without any resistance at all. When I was a child and had a chore like leaf raking that I didn't want to do, his simple answer was to say, \"Let's do it together. It'll take half as long.\" I use that with my son almost every day, along with the devotion, and my father's example about his friends from long ago to make my life work. He stayed close with friends from Williams College Class of '35, especially Richard Helms of the CIA. He had lunch with one of his pals from Williams, Johnny Davis, class of '33, who got him a job as a dishwasher at Sigma Chi, days before he went into the hospital. \n\n         This quality of devotion and the rewards I get from it are worth far more than any stocks or bonds in my father's estate--and cannot be taken away at the marginal rate of 55 percent. Plus, I can pass it on to my son without any generation-skipping surcharge. \n\n         And he left something else of perhaps even greater value: a good name. Many people quarreled with my father's ideas about taxes or about when to balance the budget. He faced frequent opposition to his belief in a large defense budget. Of course, most of the people he knew disagreed with him about RN. But no one ever questioned that he came by his views honestly, by means of research and analysis and sometimes sentiment, but not for any venal reason or by the process of money changing hands. His reputation for honesty was simply without a speck of question upon it. \n\n         This good name cannot be taxed at all, at least not right now. My sister and I and our children will have it for as long as we keep it clean. It's priceless, incalculable in value. \n\n         So, in answer to the query from the forward high-school classmate, \"Yes, my father did leave an immense estate, and yes, he did manage to beat the estate tax.\" The only problem is that I miss him every single minute, and I already had the best parts of the estate without his being gone, so the death part is pure loss.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What did the author outline as the importance of friendships to his father?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_1", "options": ["His friends were essential in his early career days, but he lost touch with most through raising his family", "He didn’t keep many friends at the end of his life", "He kept friends even from early school days throughout his life and they were very important to him even as he became busy through life", "He did not value friendships, and often felt regretful later in life that he hadn’t"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between the brother and sister?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_2", "options": ["They are estranged", "They seem to be in agreement about the things discussed in the piece", "They don’t see each other’s opinions and do not get along well", "They disagree on how to divide their father’s estate"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the relationship like between the father and son in the piece?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_3", "options": ["The son thought his father made bad financial decisions", "The son held great respect for his father and valued his legacy", "They had become estranged through life", "The son came to discover that his father had secrets in his finances upon his death"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What were some of the privileges that Stein was able to offer his family in his life?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_4", "options": ["Untaxed inheritance", "Buying them investment properties to pass on", "Paying their expenses", "Entry into politics due to his reputation"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author explain was his father’s opinions on status?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_5", "options": ["He was never able to reach status and he resented those with it", "He sought to achieve status in life and pass on wealth", "Status was less important to him than friendships", "He respected status and the power that is brought to the holder"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are some of the things the author says can’t easily be valued?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_6", "options": ["The antique car collection", "The furniture in his home", "The values that his children cherish", "The various properties his father owned that are meaningful to the family"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the apparent status of the father that passed away?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_7", "options": ["Locally-famous mayor", "Agent in the CIA", "Independent business person", "Political figurehead"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the relationship like between the son and his mother?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_8", "options": ["His mother needed to make decisions about the estate when his father passed and he was in disagreement about how they should be made", "Their relationship seems to have been pleasant and he knows how much she meant to his father", "His mother needed a lot of help when his father passed away and he was happy to be there for her", "She passed away early in her son’s life"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was a section of the federal budget that the author’s father felt strongly about supporting that his estate tax would then go to support after he died?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_9", "options": ["Schools", "Hospitals", "Defense", "Infrastructure"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What personal feelings did the author have about the estate tax on his father’s estate?", "question_unique_id": "20031_0W08N5TX_10", "options": ["He believed that people who invest in land like his father should be able to pass property on without tax", "His parents lived cheaply and the author feels they deserve to have their savings passed on", "His parents passed a lot of money on while they were alive, and he feels like he has received plenty and doesn’t need to worry about estate tax", "He believes it is important that his father’s estate does go in part to the IRS to support the public services his father was a part of creating"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": 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{"article_id": "20029", "set_unique_id": "20029_XWDXOW34", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "Edward W. Said", "year": "1999", "author": "A.O. Scott", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Edward W. Said \n\n         The game of biographical \"gotcha\" is a perennially popular form of ideological blood sport. The goal is to find an incriminating datum that will leave a permanent stain on the target's reputation, make his defenders look like craven apologists, and give the general public a ready-made judgment that can be wielded without too much reading or thought. If the anti-communism of George Orwell or Arthur Koestler bugs you, you can point to recent allegations that the former was a snitch and the latter a rapist. If you resent the fact that your college professors forced you to read I, Rigoberta Menchú , you can rejoice in the discovery that she embellished some important details of her life story. Didn't Karl Marx beat his wife? And what about Freud's thing for his sister-in-law and his taste for cocaine? \n\n         To this list now add Columbia literature professor Edward W. Said, the subject of a fiercely debated article in the September issue of Commentary . The article, by American-born Israeli legal scholar Justus Reid Weiner, contends that Said, who was born in Jerusalem to a Christian Arab family in 1935, has over the years deliberately obscured some facts about his early life, and amplified others, in order to create the impression that he was, of all things, Palestinian. \n\n         Not so fast, says Weiner: Said's childhood was not \"the parable of Palestinian identity\" marked by dispossession from a beloved homeland and the subsequent pain of exile. Instead, Said \"grew up not in Jerusalem but in Cairo, where his father, an American citizen, had moved as an economic expatriate approximately nine years before Edward's birth and had become the owner of a thriving business; and there, until his own departure for the United States as a teenager in 1951, the young Edward Said resided in luxurious apartments, attended private English schools, and played tennis at the exclusive Gezira Sporting Club as the child of one of its few Arab members.\" \n\n         A similar account of Edward Said's youth can be found in a new book called Out of Place , the author of which is Edward Said. The book, Said's 17 th , is a wrenching, intimate account of growing up in Cairo's wealthy Levantine expatriate community, of summering in the dreary Lebanese resort town of Dhour el Shweir, and of visiting the family home in Jerusalem, sometimes for as long as several months. Weiner claims that the memoir is an elaborate sleight of hand and speculates that Said decided to \"spin\" the story of his past--by telling the truth about it--when he heard about Weiner's inquiries. In the weeks since his essay appeared, Weiner's motives, methods, and assertions have been roundly attacked by Said and his friends, and Weiner has made some attempt at clarification. (Click for a recap of the controversy and links to relevant articles, or click here for my review of Out of Place .) \n\n         Just who is Edward Said that his family's real estate holdings and his grammar school records rate 7,000 words in Commentary , not to mention three years of research by a scholar in residence at the Jerusalem Center for Public Affairs? Followers of Middle East politics, as well as viewers of the NewsHour With Jim Lehrer , where Said often appears, know him as an eloquent spokesman for the Palestinian cause. Readers of The Nation know him as a formidable reviewer of opera and classical music. Several generations of graduate students in a number of disciplines know him as the author of Orientalism . The 30,000 literary scholars who make up the membership of the Modern Language Association--minus one who resigned in protest earlier this year over Said's election--know him as Mr. President. Readers of Al-Hayat , a London-based Arabic-language newspaper, and Al-Ahram , a Cairo weekly, know him as a regular commentator on politics and culture. Each of these identities--political activist, literary scholar, university professor, public intellectual--are, in Said's case, inordinately complex in and of themselves. The tensions between them--between intellectual, aesthetic, and political impulses that are felt with enormous passion and expressed with great vehemence--make Said an uncommonly interesting, and endlessly controversial, intellectual figure. \n\n         Most controversial--and most misunderstood--has been Said's involvement in Palestinian affairs. He has published half a dozen books on the plight of the Palestinians, including The Question of Palestine (1979), After the Last Sky (1986), and Peace and Its Discontents (1995), a scathing critique of the Oslo peace accords, which Said calls \"the Palestinian Versailles.\" These writings, his relationship with PLO Chairman Yasser Arafat, and his many years of service in the Palestine National Council (the now-defunct Palestinian parliament in exile, from which he resigned in 1991 after being diagnosed with leukemia) have invited smears and misrepresentations: A decade ago Commentary branded him \"The Professor of Terror.\" New York magazine once called him \"Arafat's man in New York.\" And he showed up last spring, unnamed, in The                 New Yorker 's special \"Money\" issue as a well-dressed Columbia don rumored to be \"on the payroll of the PLO.\" \n\n         Until very recently, Said has been an insistent voice for Palestinian statehood: He helped to draft the PLO's \"Algiers Declaration\" of 1988, which linked this aspiration to the recognition of Israel's right to exist. Over the years, he has often said that his own place in such a state would be as its toughest critic. Even as he has been unsparing in his indictments of Israeli and American policy, he has not let Arab governments--or the Palestinian leadership--off the hook. He has assailed the corrupt, authoritarian regimes that rule most of the Arab world, punctured the ideological phantasms of Pan-Arabist nationalism and reactionary Islam alike, and bemoaned the impoverished state of Arab cultural and intellectual life. He has also, within the Palestinian camp, been a consistent advocate of reconciliation with Israel and an opponent of terrorism. The Question of Palestine called for a \"two-state solution\" at a time when the official PLO ambition was total control over British Mandatory Palestine. The book, published in Israel in 1981, had, as of the mid-'90s, never been translated into Arabic or published in any Arab country. \n\n         In 1978, in the wake of the Camp David accords, Said delivered a message from Secretary of State Cyrus Vance to one of Arafat's top aides indicating that the United States would recognize the PLO as a legitimate party to peace talks in exchange for recognition of Israel. Arafat ignored the message. Fifteen years later, when Arafat and Israeli Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin shook hands on the White House lawn, Said, who had been invited to the event by its patron, Bill Clinton, stayed home. Since then, as bien-pensant American opinion has embraced the \"peace process,\" Said has bemoaned Arafat's \"capitulation\" and grown increasingly disgusted with the chairman's dictatorial rule over a few scraps of occupied territory and with Israel's continued expropriation of Palestinian lands. In the New York Times Magazine last spring, he wrote that the Palestinian state toward which the peace process seemed, however pokily, to be tending could not provide democracy and justice for the Palestinians. Instead, he called for a single, \"bi-national\" state based on a constitution (something neither Israel nor the areas controlled by the Palestinian Authority currently has), with \"the idea and practice of citizenship, not of ethnic or racial community, as the main vehicle for coexistence.\" \n\n         But to treat Said solely, or even primarily, as a political figure is necessarily to produce a distorted view of his life. He is, first and foremost, a literary critic, who wrote his Ph.D. at Harvard--on Joseph Conrad, a lifelong obsession--under Harry Levin, one of the champions of a comparative approach to literary study. Said's subsequent work has retained much of the expansive spirit and rigorous methodology of Levin's teachings. Beginnings: Intention and Method , the book which made Said's academic reputation, is a bulky study of how novels begin, carried out through painstakingly close formal analysis and displaying crushing erudition. \n\n         But Said's fame outside the American academy rests on Orientalism , his sweeping account of how Western art, literature, and scholarship have produced a deformed, biased picture of Arab and Muslim culture in the service of colonial domination. The impact of Orientalism far exceeded its subject, vast though that was. In addition to laying the groundwork for \"post-colonial\" studies as an area of inquiry, the book inspired a flurry of scholarship devoted to \"the other\"--to groups of people who, by virtue of race, gender, sexuality, or geographical location, are unable to represent themselves and so (to echo the line from Karl Marx that serves as the book's epigraph) \"must be represented\" by those more powerful. And Orientalism , with its harsh critiques of European philology and American social science, contributed to an epistemological shift in the American academy: Traditional disciplines were no longer to be taken for granted as the vehicles of objective knowledge but themselves became the objects of ideological analysis. \n\n         Both Said's methods and his substantive claims have come under attack. Because his theoretical debt to Michel Foucault and his unabashedly political intentions marked him as an avatar of the emerging academic left, a lot of the criticism came from traditional scholars. In the New York Review of Books , for example, the Princeton historian Bernard Lewis, one of the chief modern villains of Orientalism , decried Said's inflammatory tone and questioned his knowledge of history, philology, and Arabic. (To read Lewis' piece, click here. For Said's angry response, click here.) But the most sustained assault on Orientalism 's premises, and on its prestige, came from the left. In a book called In Theory --a wholesale slaughter of the sacred cows of the postmodern Western intelligentsia--the Indian Marxist literary critic Aijaz Ahmad raised further questions about Said's mastery of his sources and accused him of self-aggrandizement and insufficient political discipline. Whereas Lewis attacks Said for trashing the norms and values of traditional scholarship, Ahmad rebukes him for hewing too closely to them. And while Lewis believes Said to be motivated by a crude anti-Western leftist animus, Ahmad finds him altogether too enamored of the canons of European literature and avers that Said possesses \"a very conservative mind, essentially Tory in its structure.\" \n\n         Lewis and Ahmad are both right. Orientalism and its even more ambitious sequel Culture and Imperialism are works of passionate, almost agonized ambivalence. To read them is to encounter a mind at war with itself and the world (and ready to go to war with his critics, as any number of exchanges over the past quarter-century will show). Said's evident love of the literature and music of the West continually collides with his righteous anger at what the West has done to the rest. His desire to use literary criticism as a weapon on the side of the oppressed sits athwart the pleasure he takes in letting his mind play over the meaning in a novel or a poem. The results are books at once exhausting in their detail and maddening in their omissions, uneven in tone, overreaching and underargued. \"He is easily distracted\" the critic John Leonard remarked in an appreciative review of Culture and Imperialism , \"answering too many fire alarms, sometimes to pour on more petrol.\" \n\n         O rientalism and Culture and Imperialism are unquestionably incendiary, but they are also permanent and exemplary works of late-20 th -century criticism, in no small part because they invite so much argument, because for all the intellectual authority they project they remain open, vulnerable, provisional. And they also fulfill the basic mandate of literary analysis, which is to illuminate the works they discuss: To return to Verdi's Aida , Conrad's Heart of Darkness , or Kipling's Kim after reading Said on them is to find them richer, stranger, and more complicated than you had ever imagined. \n\n         More than anyone else in his generation, Edward Said has sought to embody an unfashionable, perhaps obsolescent idea of the intellectual--immersed in culture and committed to politics, placing \"criticism over solidarity,\" speaking truth to power, and steering clear of gods that fail. There was a time when this idea flourished more widely--even in the pages of Commentary .\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does the author suggest are some traits Said possesses?", "question_unique_id": "20029_XWDXOW34_1", "options": ["Boldness, confidence", "Vanity, disorganization", "Inventiveness, shyness", "Charisma, people-pleasing"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Said’s most famous contribution in literature?", "question_unique_id": "20029_XWDXOW34_2", "options": ["Criticism of the biased representation of Arab and Muslim culture through a Western lens", "The first to explain reasoning for Israel’s right to exist in writing", "Economic theories", "Re-writing Arab and Muslim history books for post-colonial education"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author explain is Said’s main occupation?", "question_unique_id": "20029_XWDXOW34_3", "options": ["Critiquing literature", "Politician", "International affairs", "News anchor"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, 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"validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following was NOT related to Said’s life as told in the article?", "question_unique_id": "20029_XWDXOW34_6", "options": ["Elected into the American political system", "Critiques of Western literature, culture, art", "Israel’s right to exist", "Professorial roles"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What reasons does the author give that Said’s actions might be controversial?", "question_unique_id": "20029_XWDXOW34_7", "options": ["Political commentary", "Independent publishing", "University lectures", "Fashion"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, 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"Indifferent"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the outcome of the criticism that Said embellished his upbringing?", "question_unique_id": "20029_XWDXOW34_9", "options": ["It boosts his level of fame", "It causes controversy, but is overcome", "It was never fully explained as the story went on to other subjects", "It ruins his career"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", 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{"article_id": "20027", "set_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "Booze You Can Use", "year": "1999", "author": "James Fallows", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Booze You Can Use \n\n         I love beer, but lately I've been wondering: Am I getting full value for my beer dollar? As I've stocked up on microbrews and fancy imports, I've told myself that their taste is deeper, richer, more complicated, more compelling--and therefore worth the 50 percent to 200 percent premium they command over cheap mass products or even mainstream Bud. And yet, I've started to wonder, is this just costly snobbery? If I didn't know what I was drinking, could I even tell whether it was something from Belgium, vs. something from Pabst? \n\n         I'm afraid we'll never know the answer to that exact question, since I'm not brave enough to expose my own taste to a real test. But I'm brave enough to expose my friends'. This summer, while working at Microsoft, I put out a call for volunteers for a \"science of beer\" experiment. Testing candidates had to meet two criteria: 1) they had to like beer; and 2) they had to think they knew the difference between mass products and high-end microbrews. \n\n         Twelve tasters were selected, mainly on the basis of essays detailing their background with beer. A few were selected because they had been bosses in the Microsoft department where I worked. All were software managers or developers ; all were male, but I repeat myself. Nearly half had grown up outside the United States or lived abroad for enough years to speak haughtily about American macrobrews. Most tasters came in talking big about the refinement of their palates. When they entered the laboratory (which mere moments before had been a Microsoft conference room), they discovered an experiment set up on the following lines: \n\n         1 Philosophy                : The experiment was designed to take place in two separate sessions. The first session, whose results are revealed here, involved beers exclusively from the lager group. Lagers are the light-colored, relatively lightly flavored brews that make up most of the vattage of beer consumption in the United States. Imported lagers include Foster's, Corona, and Heineken. Budweiser is a lager; so are Coors, Miller, most light beers, and most bargain-basement beers. \n\n         Beer snobs sneer at lagers, because they look so watery and because so many bad beers are in the group. But the lager test came first, for two reasons. One, lagers pose the only honest test of the ability to tell expensive from dirt-cheap beers. There are very few inexpensive nut brown ales, India pale ales, extra special bitters, or other fancy-pantsy, microbrew-style, nonlager drinks. So if you want to see whether people can taste a money difference among beers of the same type, you've got to go lager. Two, the ideal of public service requires lager coverage. This is what most people drink, so new findings about lager quality could do the greatest good for the greatest number. \n\n         In the second stage of the experiment, held several weeks later, the same testers reassembled to try the fancier beers. The results of that tasting will be reported separately, once Microsoft's mighty Windows 2000-powered central computers have . \n\n         2 Materials                : Ten lagers were selected for testing, representing three distinct price-and-quality groups. Through the magic of the market, it turns out that lager prices nearly all fall into one of three ranges: \n\n         a) High end at $1.50 to $1.60 per pint. (\"Per pint\" was the unit-pricing measure at the Safeway in Bellevue, Wash., that was the standard supply source for the experiment. There are 4.5 pints per six pack, so the high-end price point is around $7 per six pack.) \n\n         b) Middle at around 80 cents per pint, or under $4 per six pack. \n\n         c) Low at 50 cents to 55 cents per pint, or under $3 per six pack. \n\n         The neat 6:3:2 mathematical relationship among the price groups should be noted. The high-end beers cost roughly three times as much as the cheapest ones, and twice as much as the middle range. The beers used in the experiment were as follows: \n\n                         High End              \n\n                         Grolsch. Import lager (Holland). $1.67 per pint. (See an important .) Chosen for the test because of its beer-snob chic; also, one of my favorite beers. \n\n                         Heineken. Import lager (Holland). $1.53 per pint. (Sale price. List price was $1.71 per pint.) Chosen because it is America's long-standing most popular import. \n\n                         Pete's Wicked Lager. National-scale \"microbrew.\" $1.11 per pint. (Deep-discount sale. List price $1.46 per pint.) Like the next one, this put us into the gray zone for a lager test. Few American \"microbreweries\" produce lagers of any sort. Pete's is called a lager but was visibly darker than, say, Bud. \n\n                         Samuel Adams Boston Lager. National macro-microbrew. $1.56 per pint. (That was list price. The following week it was on sale for $1.25 per pint, which would have made it do far better in the value rankings.) Calls itself America's Best Beer. Has dark orangey-amber color that was obviously different from all other lagers tested. \n\n                         Mid-Range              \n\n                         Budweiser. $.84 per pint. (Sale. List price $.89 per pint.) Self-styled King of Beers. \n\n                         Miller Genuine Draft. $.84 per pint. (Sale. List price $.89 per pint.) \n\n                         Coors Light. $.84 per pint. (Sale. List price $.89 per pint. Isn't price competition a wonderful thing?) The Silver Bullet That Won't Slow You Down. \n\n                         Cheap              \n\n                         Milwaukee's Best. $.55 per pint. (Sale. List price $.62 per pint.) A k a \"Beast.\" \n\n                         Schmidt's. $.54 per pint. (Sale. List $.62 per pint.) Box decorated with a nice painting of a trout. \n\n                         Busch. $.50 per pint. (Sale. List $.69 per pint.) Painting of mountains. \n\n         The Safeway that supplied the beers didn't carry any true bargain-basement products, such as \"Red, White, and Blue,\" \"Old German,\" or the one with generic printing that just says \"Beer.\" The experiment was incomplete in that regard, but no tester complained about a shortage of bad beer. Also, with heavy heart, the test administrator decided to leave malt liquors, such as Mickey's (with its trademark wide-mouth bottles), off the list. They have the air of cheapness but actually cost more than Bud, probably because they offer more alcohol per pint. \n\n         3 Experimental                 procedure: Each taster sat down before an array of 10 plastic cups labeled A through J. The A-to-J coding scheme was the same for all tasters. Each cup held 3 ounces of one of the sample beers. (Total intake, for a taster who drank all of every sample: 30 ounces, or two and a half normal beers. Not lethal; also, they were just going back to software coding when they were done.) Saltines were available to cleanse the palate. The cups were red opaque plastic, so tasters could judge the beer's color only from above. There was no time limit for the tasting, apart from the two-hour limit in which we had reserved the conference room. One experimenter (the boss of most of the others there) rushed through his rankings in 10 minutes and gave the lowest overall scores. The taster who took the longest, nearly the full two hours, had the ratings that came closest to the relative price of the beers. (This man grew up in Russia.) The experimenters were asked not to compare impressions until the test was over. \n\n         After tasting the beers, each taster rated beers A through J on the following standards: \n\n                         Overall quality points: Zero to 100, zero as undrinkable and 100 as dream beer. Purely subjective measure of how well each taster liked each beer. \n\n                         Price category: The tasters knew that each beer came from the expensive, medium, or cheap category--and they had to guess where A through J belonged. A rating of 3 was most expensive, 2 for average, 1 for cheap. \n\n                         Description: \"Amusing presumption,\" \"fresh on the palate,\" \"crap,\" etc. \n\n                         Best and Worst: Tasters chose one Best and one Worst from the \"flight\" (as they would call it if this were a wine test). \n\n         When the session was over, results for each beer were collected in a grid like this: \n\n           \n\n         To see all the grids for all the beers, click . \n\n         4 Data                 Analysis: The ratings led to four ways to assess the quality of the beers. \n\n                         1. Best and Worst. Least scientific, yet clearest cut in its results. Eleven tasters named a favorite beer. Ten of them chose Sam Adams . The other one chose Busch , the cheapest of all beers in the sample. (The taster who made this choice advises Microsoft on what new features should go into the next version of Word.) Busch was the only beer to receive both a Best and a Worst vote. \n\n         Bottom rankings were also clear. Of the 11 naming a Worst beer, five chose Grolsch , the most expensive beer in the survey. Results by best/worst preference: \n\n           \n\n                         2. Overall                 preference points                . This was a subtler and more illuminating look at similar trends. The beers were ranked on \"corrected average preference points\"--an average of the zero-to-100 points assigned by each taster, corrected, just like ice skating scores, by throwing out the highest and lowest score each beer received. The tasters used widely varying scales--one confining all beers to the range between zero and 30, another giving 67 as his lowest mark. But the power of our corrected ranking system surmounted such difficulties to provide these results: \n\n           \n\n         Here again one costly beer-- Sam Adams --shows up well, while another, Grolsch , continues to struggle, but not as badly as the medium-price Miller Genuine Draft . Sam's success could reflect its quasi-mislabeling, presenting a strong-flavored beer as a \"lager.\" It could also reflect that participants simply thought it was good. (Only one guessed it was Sam Adams.) As for Grolsch ... it is very strongly hopped, which can seem exotic if you know you're drinking a pricey import but simply bad if you don't. MGD overtook Grolsch in the race for the bottom because, while many people hated Grolsch, some actually liked it; no one liked MGD. There are some other important findings buried in the chart, but they're clearest if we move to ... \n\n         3) Value for Money: the Taste-o-meter® . Since this experiment's real purpose was to find the connection between cost and taste, the next step was to adjust subjective preference points by objective cost. The Taste-o-meter rating for each beer was calculated by dividing its corrected average preference rating by its price per pint . If Beer X had ratings twice as high as Beer Y, but it cost three times as much, Beer Y would have the higher Taste-o-meter rating. When the 10 beers are reranked this way, the results are: \n\n           \n\n         In a familiar pattern, we have Grolsch bringing up the rear, with less than one-quarter the Taste-o-meter power of Busch , the No. 1 value beer. The real news in this ranking is: the success of Busch ; the embarrassment of Heineken and Miller Genuine Draft , an expensive and a medium beer, respectively, which share the cellar with the hapless Grolsch ; and the nearly Busch-like value of Milwaukee's Best and Schmidt's . It is safe to say that none of our testers would have confessed respect for Busch, Milwaukee's Best, or Schmidt's before the contest began. But when they didn't know what they were drinking, they found these beers much closer in quality to \"best\" beers than the prices would indicate. \n\n                         4) Social Value for Money: the Snob-o-meter® . In addition to saying which beers they preferred, the tasters were asked to estimate whether the beers were expensive or not--in effect, to judge whether other people would like and be impressed by the beers. One taster perfectly understood the intention of this measure when he said, in comments about Beer B (Heineken), \"I don't like it, but I bet it's what the snobs buy.\" The Snob-o-meter rating for each beer is similar to the Taste-o-meter. You start with the \"group\" ranking--whether the tasters thought the beer belonged in Group 1 (cheap), 2, or 3--and then divide by the price per pint. The result tells you the social-mobility power of the beer--how impressive it will seem, relative to how much it costs. The Snob-o-meter rankings are: \n\n           \n\n         We won't even speak of poor Grolsch or MGD any more. The story here is the amazing snob-power-per-dollar of Busch , closely followed by Schmidt's . A dollar spent on Busch gets you three times the impressiveness of a dollar spent in Grolsch, useful information when planning a party. Not everyone liked Busch--one called it \"crap\"; another, \"Water. LITE.\" But the magic of statistics lets us see the larger trends. \n\n          5 Conclusions                . Further study is needed. But on the basis of evidence to date, we can say: \n\n          \n\n            One and only one beer truly survived the blind taste test. This is Sam Adams , which 10 tasters independently ranked \"best\" without knowing they were drinking a fancy beer. (They knew it was darker than the others but couldn't have known whether this was some trick off-brand sneaked into the test.) \n\n            Don't serve Grolsch unless you know people will consider it exotic, or unless you've invited me. \n\n            Apart from Sam Adams and Grolsch, the tasters really had trouble telling one beer from another . This conclusion is implicit in many of the findings, but it was really obvious during the experiment itself, when the confident look of men-who-know-their-beer quickly turned to dismay and panic as they realized that all the lagers tasted pretty much the same. \n\n          \n\n         The evidence suggests other implications about specific beers. For instance, the comments about Coors Light are much less enthusiastic than the average-or-better numerical rankings. Most tasters paused to complain about it--\"fizzy and soapy\"--before giving it reasonable marks. But the main implication, and the most useful consumer news from this study, is a radically simplified buying philosophy for lager beers. Based on this study, rational consumers should: \n\n         1) Buy Sam Adams when they want an individual glass of lager to be as good as it can be. \n\n         2) Buy Busch at all other times, since it gives them the maximum taste and social influence per dollar invested. \n\n         The detailed rankings and comments for all tasters on all beers may be found . \n\n         Next installment: fancy beers .\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the plan for future experimentation?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_1", "options": ["The author has only one more experiment planned", "The author plans to conduct 4 more experiments with different classes of beers", "The author has completed all the experiments they intend on doing", "The author will do two more experiments - another repeat of lager, and one with more expensive options"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the author feel about the various classifications of beer?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_2", "options": ["They thought microbreweries were just as likely to make all classes of beers since it have become so diversified", "They felt a lot of microbreweries got into making lagers", "They thought lagers would have more cheap brands included, whereas other classes not so much", "They thought lagers were the worst of the beers"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How many times was the lager experiment run?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_3", "options": ["Once", "Four times over the course of a month", "Three times", "Twice, on two consecutive Saturdays"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What considerations (if any) did the author make on the amount of beer poured for each of the samples?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_4", "options": ["They only wanted the testers to have one sip of each", "They poured differing amounts baked on the color to make them all appear the same color when you looked down into the glass", "They provided one type of beer at a time to the tasters so that it would be at its fullest carbonation when they tasted it", "They provided enough beer for several sips, but not so much that consuming all of it would be problematic"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the author’s general finding about the true taste of the beers?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_5", "options": ["The quality of the beers is closely linked to first impressions", "The results were too varied to really make a general conclusion", "A low cost beer was actually ranked the best overall", "Low cost beers actually rate pretty well when people don’t know what they’re drinking"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was the best beer chosen?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_6", "options": ["It was unanimous", "It required a second test to decipher results", "The was a close call, but the winning beer had one extra vote", "The majority of participants chose the same exact beer as the winner"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the general tone that the author writes in?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_7", "options": ["They are compassionate for the testers who are confused about how to run the experiment", "They poke fun at the preferences of the participants based on their professions", "They start off very confident about their own abilities, but learn by tasting that they actually aren’t any better than the rest of the testers", "They take a serious, scientific approach because it’s mart of their market research profession"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the general set up of the experiment?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_8", "options": ["The tasters each brought their favorite beer and poured it into 10 different cups to be blindly dispersed to the rest of the participants", "The tasters had a list of the names of the beers and had to assign them to cups labelled only with letters based on how they tasted", "The tasters chose the best and worst out of a set of 5 beers, and the author ran statistics to come out with rankings", "The tasters were completely blind to which beers were being used in the experiment"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was one thing that the experimenter noticed was different between the items they chose to test?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_9", "options": ["There were obvious color differences", "There were obvious carbonation and color differences", "There were differing sizes of the cans, making calculations more difficult", "There was not enough of some of the types of beer, so they had to adjust along the way"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the author feel about their ability to detect differences between the test groups over the course of the study?", "question_unique_id": "20027_IAG6VJYS_10", "options": ["At first they didn’t have confidence they could tell them apart", "They wanted to participate in the tasting, but after they saw how difficult is was for the rest of the participants they withdrew", "They couldn’t understand why the other tasters were struggling because it was so easy", "They thought they had a good chance at choosing the correct beer for each sample, but when they got into tasting their confidence faded"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20055", "set_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3", "batch_num": "13", "writer_id": "1005", "source": "Slate", "title": "We Do Understand", "year": "1998", "author": "William Saletan", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "We Do Understand \n\n         \"This is not another book about civility,\" Deborah Tannen promises in the first sentence of The Argument Culture . \"Civility,\" she explains, suggests a \"veneer of politeness spread thin over human relations like a layer of marmalade over toast.\" Instead, Tannen has written something less: a book about other books about civility. Quoting from Washington Post media critic Howard Kurtz, political scientist Larry Sabato, and others who have studied the rise of belligerence in politics, journalism, and law, Tannen spreads their insights thin over all human relations, painting a general theory of discord. The whole is less perceptive than its parts and more pernicious. \n\n         In her previous books-- That's Not What I Meant! (1986), You Just Don't Understand (1990), and Talking From 9 to 5 (1994)--Tannen carved out a niche as the nation's pre-eminent intergender translator and couples counselor. A professor of linguistics at Georgetown University, she transformed the comparative study of male and female conversational patterns from a linguistic subdiscipline into a self-help movement. Until recently, though, Tannen confined her analysis to conversations among dysfunctional individuals. (For an illustration, click .) But in The Argument Culture , she takes her movement one step further, peddling the elixir of mutual understanding as a remedy for the whole damned dysfunctional country. This is necessary, she argues, because \"contentious public discourse\" not only poisons the political atmosphere, it also risks infecting our most intimate relationships. \n\n         Tannen, like some grandmotherly creature from an Aesop fable, admonishes us to recognize what is good in the work of others, and it is only fair to extend her the same courtesy. Here's what's worth gleaning from her book: \n\n         Don't just quarrel; listen and learn. \n\n         Don't nit-pick other people's ideas; build your own. \n\n         Don't argue for the sake of arguing. \n\n         Truth and courage often lie in the middle, not the extremes. \n\n         Many issues are multisided. \n\n         Focus on the substance of debates, not on strategy, theater, or the opponents' personal flaws. \n\n         Don't fight over small issues. \n\n         Don't obstruct good ideas just so you can win. \n\n         If you portray everything as a scandal, no one will care when something really is scandalous. \n\n          All this is sage advice--for couples, for families, for bosses and employees, maybe even for book reviewers. But when she applies her precepts to our great national conversation, Tannen gets confused. She conflates belligerence, divisiveness, polarization, titillation, jealousy, incivility, aloofness, ruthlessness, cruelty, savagery, contempt, glibness, cynicism, anomie, partisanship, obstructionism, and gridlock. She makes culprits out of answering machines, electronic mail, campaign money, malpractice litigation, HMOs, corporate takeovers, and the demise of house calls by the family doctor. \n\n         \"When there is a need to make others wrong,\" Tannen argues, \"the temptation is great to oversimplify\" and to \"seize upon the weakest examples, ignore facts that support your opponent's views, and focus only on those that support yours.\" In her need to make the \"argument culture\" wrong, she succumbs to these temptations. She blames the mainstream press, not just the paparazzi , for torturing Princess Diana and driving Adm. Mike Boorda to suicide. She compares to the propaganda of \"totalitarian countries\" (because falsehoods are spread) and to the dehumanization involved in \"ethnically motivated assaults\" (because reporters hound politicians). She blames communications technology for obscene and threatening phone calls made by former university President Richard Berendzen and former Judge Sol Wachtler. \n\n         Tannen's main mistake is failing to appreciate the difference between two distinct social spheres: the sphere of snuggle and the sphere of struggle. Some people--say, your spouse or your kids--you should snuggle with. Others--say, Saddam Hussein--you shouldn't. Tannen's antagonism toward antagonism makes sense in the former case but not in the latter. Among her illustrations of belligerence are William Safire's \"kick 'em when they're up\" philosophy of journalism and the media's use of war metaphors to describe Alan Greenspan's policies against inflation. To which one might sensibly reply: Good for Greenspan and Safire--and for us. The Federal Reserve's war on inflation and the press corps' scrutiny of powerful people safeguard the country. Some things are worth fighting for, and some things are worth fighting. \n\n         Vigilance and combat are particularly essential to law enforcement and foreign policy, which must deal with thugs and tyrants, not thoughtless husbands. Tannen laments that cops and soldiers have been \"trained to overcome their resistance to kill\" by trying \"not to think of their opponents as human beings.\" She neglects to mention that our safety depends on the ability of these officers to kill their adversaries. Comparing Vietnam to World War II, Tannen focuses strictly on the soldiers' social experience. In World War II, she observes, they trained, served, and went home together. \"Vietnam, in contrast, was a 'lonely war' of individuals assigned to constantly shifting units for year-long tours of duty.\" She ignores the more important difference: In World War II, they were fighting Hitler. \n\n          Tannen doesn't trust in the power of good argumentation to keep society honest, much less correct itself, because she rather shockingly insists \"\" that people can distinguish lies from the truth. Nor does she trust our competence to manage unfettered communication: \"E-mail makes it too easy to forward messages, too easy to reply before your temper cools, too easy to broadcast messages to large numbers of people without thinking about how every sentence will strike every recipient.\" Lexis-Nexis is an equally unwelcome troublemaker: \"Technology also exacerbates the culture of critique by making it much easier for politicians or journalists to ferret out inconsistencies in a public person's statements over time.\" \n\n         Given this oddly paternalistic (or maternalistic) diagnosis, it's not surprising that Tannen should wish to cover our ears, filtering out strife, deception, and debate. She assures us that all reasonable people can agree that disseminating birth control and sex education is the best way to reduce the abortion rate; that stiff sentences for small drug offenses don't reduce drug abuse; that global warming is producing \"disastrous consequences.\" Partial-birth abortion is \"surely not\" a \"very important\" issue, and Congress should not have let the Republican \"politics of obstruction\" defeat President Clinton's health care proposal in 1994, given the \"broad bipartisan and public consensus that it was desperately needed.\" The \"view of government as the enemy\" isn't worth debating; it's just \"another troubling aspect of the argument culture.\" Indeed, Tannen embraces a colleague's claim that \"right-wing talk radio\" deploys phrases \"similar to verbal manipulations employed by propagandists in the Nazi era.\" \n\n         Tannen finds it particularly unseemly that reporters and independent counsels treat the nation's ultimate father figure with such irreverence. She complains that Clinton's weekly radio address \"is followed immediately by a Republican response,\" which \"weakens the public's ability to see leaders as leaders.\" A reporter's skeptical question to Clinton \"broke the spell\" of Ruth Bader Ginsburg's remarks upon being nominated to the Supreme Court, thereby injuring citizens' \"sense of connection\" to \"our judicial system.\" The investigation of former Agriculture Secretary Mike Espy was excessive, the campaign against former Surgeon General Joycelyn Elders was \"cruelly unfair,\" and the Whitewater investigation--led by \"a prominent Republican known for his animosity toward the president\"--is, in the words of Arkansas journalist Gene Lyons, \"the result of the nastiest and most successful political 'dirty tricks' campaign in recent American history.\" Is Tannen a Clinton apologist? She rules that criticism out of bounds. \"The very fact that defending our nation's elected leader makes one suspect--an 'apologist'--is in itself evidence of the culture of critique,\" she writes. \n\n         The First Amendment, in Tannen's view, has often become \"a pretext to justify the airing of just those views that make for the most entertaining fights.\" As an alternative, she offers Asian authoritarianism: \"Disputation was rejected in ancient China as 'incompatible with the decorum and harmony cultivated by the true sage.' \" Similarly, \"the minimal human unit in Japan is not the individual but the group.\" Instead of the American practice of having two guests debate policy questions on TV news programs, she suggests a Japanese format, which \"typically features a single guest.\" (Click to learn how she puts this into practice.) \n\n         Tannen even wants to protect us from the possibility of unpleasant confrontations in the courtroom. \"The purpose of most cross-examinations\" is \"not to establish facts but to discredit the witness,\" she asserts, as though the two objectives were unrelated. Thus, \"the adversary system ... is inhumane to the victims of cross-examination.\" She simply assumes the very thing the trial is supposed to prove and what cross-examination might disprove (if this is, in fact, the point of the trial): that the witness is a victim. Conversely, she assumes that the defendant cannot be a victim. While objecting to cross-examination of alleged rape victims because \"it is easy to distort events so that a rape can appear to be consensual sex,\" she ignores the reverse implication--that it is easy to make consensual sex look like rape. She complains that when Anita Hill accused Clarence Thomas of sexual harassment, \"Framing these hearings as a two-sides dispute between Hill and Thomas allowed the senators to focus their investigation on cross-examining Hill rather than seeking other sorts of evidence.\" Did the dispute not have two sides? Should Hill not have been cross-examined? \n\n         Instead of the American system, Tannen proposes consideration of the French and German systems. Under French law, after Princess Diana's death: \n\n         The photographers were held for two days without charges being filed and without being allowed to confer with lawyers. ... The judges do most of the questioning; though lawyers can also ask questions, they cannot cross-examine witnesses. Guilt ... need not be established 'beyond a reasonable doubt' but simply by ... the judge's intimate belief, or deeply held sense, of what happened. \n\n         Likewise, Tannen recalls the trial of a Canadian man who had denied the Holocaust. The defendant's lawyer interrogated concentration camp survivors, asking whether they had seen their parents gassed. The adversarial system permitted such questions to be asked and answered--admittedly a vexatious experience for the survivors but one that does entail an airing of the facts of the Holocaust. Tannen, however, treats it only as a display of the \"cruelty of cross-examination.\" She raises no objection to the Canadian hate-speech ban under which the defendant was prosecuted. Would Tannen argue that the United States should adopt such a law, along with, say, a ban on the cross-examination of accusers? If so, she'd be wrong. But hey, so far, it's still a free country. \n\n                         If you missed the links within the review, click to read: 1) an illustration of ; 2) Tannen's that American journalism is just like propaganda from totalitarian regimes, plus William Saletan's disclosure that \"several of these propagandists now infest Slate \"; 3) the for her contention that there is no evidence that people can distinguish lies from truth; 4) and an example of how Tannen from a one-guest format on TV and radio talk shows.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What discipline does Tannen apply to many of the topics discussed?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_1", "options": ["Social science", "Philosophy", "Theology", "Psychiatry"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What role does technology play in Tannen’s views?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_2", "options": ["It allows the facts to surface and be shared", "It allows the public to communicate clearly and carefully with each other", "It can spread misinformation, and enable ready critiquing of each other", "It supports the first amendment of which there is no criticism"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author think about the state of public political commentary overall?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_3", "options": ["That it should remain the same", "That there should be larger group panel formats", "That it should be changed to a one person interview format", "That the public should be included in the broadcasts"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author argue is true about Tannen’s latest work?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_4", "options": ["It is partisan", "It does not go far enough", "It doesn’t get the facts straight", "It oversimplifies"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Is there a nuance to the criticism of Tannen’s work?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_5", "options": ["The author recognizes some nuggets of good advice, but says they do not extend to the state of the nation", "There is no recognition of any positive aspects of the work", "The author agrees with many of the premises, but would choose to apply them differently", "The author acknowledges the background that Tannen approaches the work from and balances the criticisms through that understanding"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author feel about Tannen’s work?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_6", "options": ["That it’s fair", "That it’s dangerous", "That it’s elementary", "That it’s relevant to the state of the nation"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What do we know of the subjects that Tannen researches and writes about?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_7", "options": ["Primary interest in how humans argue, and how it might be done differently", "Primary focus on international politics", "Primary focus on journalism", "Primary focus on the social aspects of war"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Tannen’s thesis on courtroom confrontations?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_8", "options": ["That personal credibility (true or untrue) has become more important than facts", "That cross examination is important and should stay in the court system", "That judges should create greater order", "That the current system adequately establishes facts, and does not overly burden victims"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What context does the author write the article in?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_9", "options": ["Adversarial commentary", "Constructive feedback", "Objective review", "Unbiased summary"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the significance of the author’s title for the piece?", "question_unique_id": "20055_WB1HAZU3_10", "options": ["They use it in solidarity with Tannen about people generally understanding truth", "They use it in support of the importance of understanding that Tannen talks about", "They are remarking about Tannen’s ongoing feud with them", "They use it as a jab against Tannen’s prior book title"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "51295", "set_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Man Who Was Six", "year": 1960, "author": "Wallace, F. L. (Floyd L.)", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Amnesiacs -- Fiction; Accident victims -- Fiction; Identity -- Fiction; Husband and wife -- Fiction", "article": "The Man Who Was Six\nBy F. L. WALLACE\n\n\n Illustrated by ASHMAN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction September 1954.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThere is nothing at all like having a sound\n \nmind in a sound body, but Dan Merrol had too\n \nmuch of one—and also too much of the other!\n\"Sorry, darling,\" said Erica. She yawned, added, \"I've tried—but I\n just can't believe you're my husband.\"\n\n\n He felt his own yawn slip off his face. \"What do you mean? What am I\n doing here then?\"\n\n\n \"Can't you remember?\" Her laughter tinkled as she pushed him away and\n sat up. \"They said you were Dan Merrol at the hospital, but they must\n have been wrong.\"\n\n\n \"Hospitals don't make that kind of mistake,\" he said with a certainty\n he didn't altogether feel.\n\n\n \"But\nI\nshould know, shouldn't I?\"\n\n\n \"Of course, but....\" He did some verbal backstepping. \"It was a\n bad accident. You've got to expect that I won't be quite the same\n at first.\" He sat up. \"\nLook\nat me. Can't you tell who I am?\" She\n returned his gaze, then swayed toward him. He decided that she was\n highly attractive—but surely he ought to have known that long ago.\nWith a visible effort she leaned away from him. \"Your left eye does\n look familiar,\" she said cautiously. \"The brown one, I mean.\"\n\n\n \"The\nbrown\none?\"\n\n\n \"Your other eye's green,\" she told him.\n\n\n \"Of course—a replacement. I told you it was a serious accident. They\n had to use whatever was handy.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose so—but shouldn't they have tried to stick to the original\n color scheme?\"\n\n\n \"It's a little thing,\" he said. \"I'm lucky to be alive.\" He took her\n hand. \"I believe I can convince you I'm\nme\n.\"\n\n\n \"I wish you could.\" Her voice was low and sad and he couldn't guess why.\n\n\n \"My name is Dan Merrol.\"\n\n\n \"They told you that at the hospital.\"\n\n\n They hadn't—he'd read it on the chart. But he had been alone in the\n room and the name had to be his, and anyway he\nfelt\nlike Dan Merrol.\n \"Your name is Erica.\"\n\n\n \"They told you that too.\"\n\n\n She was wrong again, but it was probably wiser not to tell her how he\n knew. No one had said anything to him in the hospital. He hadn't given\n them a chance. He had awakened in a room and hadn't wanted to be alone.\n He'd got up and read the chart and searched dizzily through the closet.\n Clothes were hanging there and he'd put them on and muttered her name\n to himself. He'd sat down to gain strength and after a while he'd\n walked out and no one had stopped him.\n\n\n It was night when he left the hospital and the next thing he remembered\n was her face as he looked through the door. Her name hadn't been on the\n chart nor her address and yet he had found her. That proved something,\n didn't it? \"How could I forget you?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"You may have known someone else with that name. When were we married?\"\n\n\n Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital. It would have been easier\n to convince her there. But he'd been frantic to get home. \"It was quite\n a smashup,\" he said. \"You'll have to expect some lapses.\"\n\n\n \"I'm making allowances. But can't you tell me something about myself?\"\n\n\n He thought—and couldn't. He wasn't doing so well. \"Another lapse,\"\n he said gloomily and then brightened. \"But I can tell you lots about\n myself. For instance, I'm a specialist in lepidoptera.\"\n\n\n \"What's that?\"\n\n\n \"At the moment, who knows? Anyway, I'm a well-known actor and a\n musician and a first-rate mathematician. I can't remember any equations\n offhand except C equals pi R squared. It has to do with the velocity\n of light. And the rest of the stuff will come back in time.\" It was\n easier now that he'd started and he went on rapidly. \"I'm thirty-three\n and after making a lot of money wrestling, married six girls, not\n necessarily in this order—Lucille, Louise, Carolyn, Katherine, Shirley\n and Miriam.\" That was quite a few marriages—maybe it was thoughtless\n of him to have mentioned them. No woman approves her predecessors.\n\n\n \"That's six. Where do I come in?\"\n\n\n \"Erica. You're the seventh and best.\" It was just too many, now that he\n thought of it, and it didn't seem right.\n\n\n She sighed and drew away. \"That was a lucky guess on your age.\"\nDid that mean he wasn't right on anything else? From the expression\n on her face, it did. \"You've got to expect me to be confused in the\n beginning. Can't you really tell who I am?\"\n\n\n \"I\ncan't\n! You don't have the same personality at all.\" She glanced at\n her arm. There was a bruise on it.\n\n\n \"Did I do that?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"You did, though I'm sure you didn't mean to. I don't think you\n realized how strong you were. Dan was always too gentle—he must have\n been afraid of me. And\nyou\nweren't at all.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe I was impetuous,\" he said. \"But it was such a long time.\"\n\n\n \"Almost three months. But most of that time you were floating in\n gelatin in the regrowth tank, unconscious until yesterday.\" She\n leaned forward and caressed his cheek. \"Everything seems wrong, no\n matter how hard I try to believe otherwise. You don't have the same\n personality—you can't remember anything.\"\n\n\n \"And I have one brown eye and one green.\"\n\n\n \"It's not just that, darling. Go over to the mirror.\"\n\n\n He had been seriously injured and he was still weak from the shock. He\n got up and walked unsteadily to the mirror. \"Now what?\"\n\n\n \"Stand beside it. Do you see the line?\" Erica pointed to the glass.\n\n\n He did—it was a mark level with his chin. \"What does it mean?\"\n\n\n \"That should be the top of Dan Merrol's head,\" she said softly.\n\n\n He was a good six inches taller than he ought to be. But there must be\n some explanation for the added height. He glanced down at his legs.\n They were the same length from hip bone to the soles of his feet, but\n the proportions differed from one side to the other. His knees didn't\n match.\nBe-dum, be-dum, be-dumdum, but your knees don't match\n—the\n snatch of an ancient song floated through his head.\n\n\n Quickly, he scanned himself. It was the same elsewhere. The upper right\n arm was massive, too big for the shoulder it merged with. And the\n forearm, while long, was slender. He blinked and looked again. While\n they were patching him up, did they really think he needed black, red\n and brown hair? He wondered how a beagle felt.\nWhat were they, a bunch of humorists? Did they, for comic effect, piece\n together a body out of bits and scraps left over from a chopping block?\n It was himself he was looking at, otherwise he'd say the results were\n neither hideous nor horrible, but merely—well, what? Ludicrous and\n laughable—and there were complications in that too. Who wants to be\n an involuntary clown, a physical buffoon that Mother Nature hadn't\n duplicated since Man began?\n\n\n He felt the stubble on his face with his left hand—he\nthought\nit\n was his left hand—at least it was on that side. The emerging whiskers\n didn't feel like anything he remembered. Wait a minute—was it\nhis\nmemory? He leaned against the wall and nearly fell down. The length of\n that arm was unexpectedly different.\n\n\n He hobbled over to a chair and sat down, staring miserably at Erica as\n she began dressing. There was quite a contrast between the loveliness\n of her body and the circus comedy of his own.\n\n\n \"Difficult, isn't it?\" she said, tugging her bra together and closing\n the last snap, which took considerable effort. She was a small girl\n generally, though not around the chest.\n\n\n It was difficult and in addition to his physique there were the\n memories he couldn't account for. Come to think of it, he must have\n been awfully busy to have so many careers in such a short time—\nand\nall those wives too.\n\n\n Erica came close and leaned comfortingly against him, but he wasn't\n comforted. \"I waited till I was sure. I didn't want to upset you.\"\n\n\n He wasn't as sure as she seemed to be now. Somehow, maybe he was still\n Dan Merrol—but he wasn't going to insist on it—not after looking at\n himself. Not after trying to sort out those damned memories.\n\n\n She was too kind, pretending to be a little attracted to him, to the\n scrambled face, to the mismatched lumps and limbs and shapes that,\n stretching the term, currently formed his body. It was clear what he\n had to do.\nThe jacket he had worn last night didn't fit. Erica cut off the sleeve\n that hung far over his fingertips on one side and basted it to the\n sleeve that ended well above his wrist, on the other. The shoulders\n were narrow, but the material would stretch and after shrugging around\n in it, he managed to expand it so it was not too tight.\n\n\n The trousers were also a problem—six inches short with no material\n to add on, but here again Erica proved equal to the task and, using\n the cuffs, contrived to lengthen them. Shoes were another difficulty.\n For one foot the size was not bad, but he could almost step out of the\n other shoe. When she wasn't looking, he wadded up a spare sock and\n stuffed it in the toe.\n\n\n He looked critically at himself in the mirror. Dressed, his total\n effect was better than he had dared hope it would be. True, he did look\ndifferent\n.\n\n\n Erica gazed at him with melancholy affection. \"I can't understand why\n they let you out wearing those clothes—or for that matter, why they\n let you out at all.\"\n\n\n He must have given some explanation as he'd stumbled through the door.\n What was it?\n\n\n \"When I brought the clothes yesterday, they told me I couldn't see you\n for a day or so,\" she mused aloud. \"It was the first time you'd been\n out of the regrowth tank—where no one could see you—and they didn't\n know the clothes wouldn't fit. You were covered with a sheet, sleeping,\n I think. They let me peek in and I could make out a corner of your\n face.\"\n\n\n It was the clothes, plus the brief glimpse of his face, which had made\n her think she recognized him when he came in.\n\n\n \"They told me you'd have to have psychotherapy and I'd have to have\n orientation before I could see you. That's why I was so surprised when\n you rang the bell.\"\n\n\n His head was churning with ideas, trying to sort them out. Part of last\n night was dim, part sharp and satisfying.\n\n\n \"What's Wysocki's theorem?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"\nWhose\ntheorem?\"\n\n\n \"Wysocki's. I started to call the hospital and you wouldn't let me,\n because of the theorem. You said you'd explain it this morning.\" She\n glanced at the bruise on her arm.\n\n\n It was then he'd grabbed her, to keep her from talking to the hospital.\n He'd been unnecessarily rough, but that could be ascribed to lack of\n coordination. She could have been terrified, might have resisted—but\n she hadn't. At that time, she must have half-believed he was Dan\n Merrol, still dangerously near the edges of post-regrowth shock.\nShe was looking at him, waiting for that explanation. He shook his\n mind frantically and the words came out. \"Self-therapy,\" he said\n briskly. \"The patient alone understands what he needs.\" She started to\n interrupt, but he shook his head and went on blithely. \"That's the\n first corollary of the theorem. The second is that there are critical\n times in the recovery of the patient. At such times, with the least\n possible supervision, he should be encouraged to make his own decisions\n and carry them through by himself, even though running a slight risk of\n physical complications.\"\n\n\n \"That's new, isn't it?\" she said. \"I always thought they watched the\n patient carefully.\"\n\n\n It ought to be new—he'd just invented it. \"You know how rapidly\n medical practices change,\" he said quickly. \"Anyway, when they\n examined me last night, I was much stronger than they expected—so,\n when I wanted to come home, they let me. It's their latest belief that\n initiative is more important than perfect health.\"\n\n\n \"Strange,\" she muttered. \"But you are very strong.\" She looked at him\n and blushed. \"Initiative, certainly you have. Dan could use some,\n wherever he is.\"\n\n\n Dan again, whether it was himself or another person. For a brief time,\n as she listened to him, he'd had the silly idea that.... But it could\n never happen to him. He'd better leave now while she was distracted and\n bewildered and believed what he was saying. \"I've got to go. I'm due\n back,\" he told her.\n\n\n \"Not before you eat,\" she said. \"Any man who's spent the night with me\n is hungry in the morning.\"\n\n\n It was a domestic miracle that amidst all the pressing and fitting,\n she'd somehow prepared breakfast and he hadn't noticed. It was a simple\n chore with the automatics, but to him it seemed a proof of her wifely\n skill.\n\n\n He wanted to protest, but didn't. Maybe it was the hand she was\n holding—it seemed to be equipped with a better set of nerves than its\n predecessor. It tingled at her touch. Sadly, he sat down and looked at\n his food. Eat? Did he want to eat? Oddly enough, he did.\n\n\n \"How much do you remember of the accident?\" She shoved aside her own\n food and sat watching him.\nNot a thing, now that she asked. In fact, there wasn't much he did\n remember. There had been the chart at his bed-side, with one word\n scrawled on it—\naccident\n—and that was where he'd got the idea. There\n had been other marks too, but he hadn't been able to decipher them. He\n nodded and said nothing and she took it as he thought she would.\n\n\n \"It wasn't anybody's fault. The warning devices which were supposed to\n work didn't,\" she began. \"A Moon ship collided with a Mars liner in\n the upper atmosphere. The ships broke up in several parts and since\n they are compartmented and the delay rockets switched on immediately,\n the separate parts fell rather gently, considering how high they were.\n Casualties weren't as great as you might think.\n\n\n \"Parts of the two ships fell together, the rest were scattered. There\n was some interchange of passengers in the wreckage, but since you were\n found in the control compartment of the Mars liner, they assumed you\n were the pilot. They never let me see you until yesterday and then\n it was just a glimpse. I took their word when they said you were Dan\n Merrol.\"\n\n\n At least he knew who or what Dan Merrol was—the pilot of the Mars\n liner. They had assumed he was the pilot because of where he was found,\n but he might have been tossed there—impact did strange things.\n\n\n Dan Merrol was a spaceship pilot and he hadn't included it among his\n skills. It was strange that she had believed him at all. But now that\n it was out in the open, he did remember some facts about spaceships. He\n felt he could manage a takeoff at this instant.\n\n\n But why hadn't he told her? Shock? Perhaps—but where had those other\n identities come from—lepidopterist, musician, actor, mathematician\n and wrestler? And where had he got memories of wives, slender and\n passionate, petite and wild, casual and complaisant, nagging and\n insecure?\n\n\n Erica he didn't remember at all, save from last night, and what was\n that due to?\n\n\n \"What are you going to do?\" he asked, deliberately toying with the last\n bite of breakfast. It gave him time to think.\n\n\n \"They said they'd identified everyone, living or dead, and I supposed\n they had. After seeing you, I can believe they made any number of\n similar mistakes. Dan Merrol may be alive under another name. It will\n be hard to do, but I must try to find him. Some of the accident victims\n went to other hospitals, you know, the ones located nearest where they\n fell.\"\n\n\n Even if he was sure, he didn't know whether he could tell her—and he\n wasn't sure any longer, although he had been. On the physical side of\n marriage, how could he ask her to share a body she'd have to laugh at?\n Later, he might tell her, if there was to be a 'later.' He pushed back\n his chair and looked at her uncertainly.\n\n\n \"Let me call a 'copter,\" she said. \"I hate to see you go.\"\n\n\n \"Wysocki's theorem,\" he told her. \"The patient has decided to walk.\"\n He weaved toward the door and twisted the knob. He turned in time to\n catch her in his arms.\n\n\n \"I know this is wrong,\" she said, pressing against him.\n\n\n It might be wrong, but it was very pleasant, though he did guess her\n motives. She was a warmhearted girl and couldn't help pitying him.\n \"Don't be so damned considerate,\" he mumbled.\n\n\n \"You'll have to put me down,\" she said, averting her eyes.\n \"Otherwise.... You're an intolerable funny man.\"\n\n\n He knew it—he could see himself in the mirror. He was something to\n laugh at when anyone got tired of pretending sympathy. He put her down\n and stumbled out. He thought he could hear the bed creak as she threw\n herself on it.\nII\n\n\n Once he got started, walking wasn't hard. His left side swung at a\n different rate from his right, but that was due to the variation in\n the length of his thighs and lower legs, and the two rhythms could be\n reconciled. He swept along, gaining control of his muscles. He became\n aware that he was whizzing past everyone.\n\n\n He slowed down—he didn't want to attract attention. It was difficult\n but he learned to walk at a pedestrian pace. However poorly they'd\n matched his legs, they'd given him good ones.\n\n\n Last night, on an impulse, he'd left the hospital and now he had to go\n back.\nHad\nto? Of course. There were too many uncertainties still to\n be settled. He glanced around. It was still very early in the morning\n and normal traffic was just beginning. Maybe they hadn't missed him\n yet, though it was unlikely.\n\n\n He seemed to know the route well enough and covered the distance in a\n brief time. He turned in at the building and, scanning the directory,\n went at once to the proper floor and stopped at the desk.\nThe receptionist was busy with the drawer of the desk. \"Can I help\n you?\" she asked, continuing to peer down.\n\n\n \"The director—Doctor Crander. I don't have an appointment.\"\n\n\n \"Then the director can't see you.\" The girl looked up and her firmly\n polite expression became a grimace of barely suppressed laughter.\n\n\n Then laughter was swept away. What replaced it he couldn't say, but it\n didn't seem related to humor. She placed her hand near his but it went\n astray and got tangled with his fingers. \"I just thought of a joke,\"\n she murmured. \"Please don't think that I consider you at all funny.\"\n\n\n The hell she didn't—and it was the second time within the hour a woman\n had used that word on him. He wished they'd stop. He took back his\n hand, the slender one, an exquisite thing that might once have belonged\n to a musician. Was there an instrument played with one hand? The other\n one was far larger and clumsier, more suited to mayhem than music.\n \"When can I see the director?\"\n\n\n She blinked at him. \"A patient?\" She didn't need to look twice to see\n that he had been one. \"The director does occasionally see ex-patients.\"\n\n\n He watched her appreciatively as she went inside. The way she walked,\n you'd think she had a special audience. Presently the door opened and\n she came back, batting her eyes vigorously.\n\n\n \"You can go in now,\" she said huskily. Strange, her voice had dropped\n an octave in less than a minute. \"The old boy tried to pretend he was\n in the middle of a grave emergency.\"\n\n\n On his way in, he miscalculated, or she did, and he brushed against\n her. The touch was pleasant, but not thrilling. That reaction seemed\n reserved for Erica.\n\n\n \"Glad to see you,\" said Doctor Crander, behind the desk. He was nervous\n and harassed for so early in the morning. \"The receptionist didn't give\n me your name. For some reason she seems upset.\"\n\n\n She did at that, he thought—probably bewildered by his appearance. The\n hospital didn't seem to have a calming influence on either her or the\n doctor. \"That's why I came here. I'm not sure who I am. I thought I was\n Dan Merrol.\"\n\n\n Doctor Crander tried to fight his way through the desk. Being a little\n wider and solider, though not by much, the desk won. He contented\n himself by wiping his forehead. \"Our missing patient,\" he said, sighing\n with vast relief. \"For a while I had visions of....\" He then decided\n that visions were nothing a medical man should place much faith in.\n\n\n \"Then I\nam\nDan Merrol?\"\n\n\n The doctor came cautiously around the desk this time. \"Of course. I\n didn't expect that you'd come walking in my office—that's why I didn't\n recognize you immediately.\" He exhaled peevishly. \"Where did you go?\n We've been searching for you everywhere.\"\n\n\n It seemed wiser to Dan not to tell him everything. \"It was stuffy\n inside. I went out for a stroll before the nurse came in.\"\n\n\n Crander frowned, his nervousness rapidly disappearing. \"Then it was\n about an hour ago. We didn't think you could walk at all so soon, or we\n would have kept someone on duty through the night.\"\nThey had underestimated him, but he didn't mind. Of course, he didn't\n know how a patient from the regrowth tanks was supposed to act.\n The doctor took his pulse. \"Seems fine,\" he said, surprised. \"Sit\n down—please sit down.\"\n\n\n Without waiting for him to comply, Crander pushed him into a chair and\n began hauling out a variety of instruments with which he poked about\n his bewildered patient.\n\n\n Finally Crander seemed satisfied. \"Excellent,\" he said. \"If I didn't\n know better, I'd say you were almost fully recovered. A week ago, we\n considered removing you from the regrowth tank. Our decision to leave\n you there an extra week has paid off very, very nicely.\"\n\n\n Merrol wasn't as pleased as the doctor appeared to be. \"Granted you can\n identify me as the person who came out of regrowth—but does that mean\n I'm Dan Merrol? Could there be a mistake?\"\n\n\n Crander eyed him clinically. \"We don't ordinarily do this—but it is\n evident that with you peace of mind is more important than procedure.\n And you look well enough to stand the physical strain.\"\n\n\n He pressed the buzzer and an angular woman in her early forties\n answered. \"Miss Jerrems, the Dan Merrol file.\"\n\n\n Miss Jerrems flashed a glance of open adoration at the doctor and\n before she could reel it in, her gaze swept past Dan, hesitated and\n returned to him. Her mouth opened and closed like that of a nervous\n goldfish and she darted from the room.\nThey see me and flee as fast as they can caper\n, thought Merrol. It\n was not wholly true—Crander didn't seem much affected. But he was a\n doctor and used to it. Furthermore, he probably had room for only one\n emotion at the moment—relief at the return of his patient.\n\n\n Miss Jerrems came back, wheeling a large cart. Dan was surprised at the\n mass of records. Crander noticed his expression and smiled. \"You're\n our prize case, Merrol. I've never heard of anyone else surviving\n such extensive surgery. Naturally, we have a step-by-step account of\n everything we did.\"\n\n\n He turned to the woman. \"You may leave, Miss Jerrems.\" She went, but\n the adoration she had showed so openly for her employer seemed to have\n curdled in the last few moments.\n\n\n Crander dug into the files and rooted out photographs. \"Here are\n pictures of the wreckage in which you were found—notice that you were\n strapped in your seat—as you were received into the hospital—at\n various stages in surgery and finally, some taken from the files of the\n company for which you worked.\"\n\n\n Merrol winced. The photographic sequence was incontrovertible. He had\n been a handsome fellow.\n\n\n \"Here is other evidence you may not have heard of. It's a recent\n development, within the last ten years, in fact. It still isn't\n accepted by most courts—they're always lagging—but to medical men\n it's the last word.\"\nMerrol studied the patterns of waves and lines and splotches. \"What is\n it?\"\n\n\n \"Mass-cell radiographs. One was loaned by your employer. The other was\n taken just after your last operation. Both were corrected according\n to standard methods. One cell won't do it, ten yield an uncertain\n identity—but as few as a hundred cells from any part of the original\n body, excepting the blood, constitute proof more positive than\n fingerprints before the surgical exchange of limbs. Don't ask me\n why—no one knows. But it is true that cells differ from one body to\n the next, and this test detects the difference.\"\nThe mass-cell radiographs did seem identical and Dr. Crander seemed\n certain. Taken altogether, the evidence was overwhelming. There had\n been no mistake—he was Dan Merrol, though it was not difficult to\n understand why Erica couldn't believe he was her husband.\n\n\n \"You did a fine job,\" he said. Recalling the picture of the wreckage,\n he knew they had. \"But couldn't you have done just a little better?\"\nCrander's eyebrows bounced up. \"We're amazed at how well we have\n done. You can search case histories and find nothing comparable.\" His\n eyebrows dropped back into place. \"Of course, if you have a specific\n complaint....\"\n\n\n \"Nothing specific. But look at this hand....\"\n\n\n The doctor seized it. \"Beautiful, isn't it?\"\n\n\n \"Perhaps—taken by itself.\" Dan rolled up his sleeve. \"See how it joins\n the forearm.\"\n\n\n Crander waggled it gravely. \"It coordinates perfectly. I've observed\n you have complete control over it. The doctor's eye, my boy. The\n doctor's diagnostic eye.\"\n\n\n The other just didn't understand. \"But the size—it doesn't match my\n arm!\"\n\n\n \"Doesn't\nmatch\n?\" cried the doctor. \"Do you have any idea of the\n biological ways in which it\ndoes\nmatch? True, it may not be\n esthetically harmonized, but here we delve into the mysteries of the\n human organism, and we can hardly be striving for Botticelli bodies and\n Michelangelo men. First, your hand moves freely at the joint, a triumph\n of surgical skill.\" He moved the hand experimentally, to show Merrol\n how it was done. He dropped the hand and hurried to a screen against\n the wall.\n\n\n Crander drew his finger across the surface and the mark remained. \"You\n know about Rh positive and negative blood. Mixed, they can be lethal.\n This was discovered long ago, by someone I've forgotten. But there are\n other factors just as potent and far more complex.\"\n\n\n He scribbled meaningless symbols on the screen with his finger. \"Take\n the bone factors—three. They must be matched in even such a slight\n contact as a joint ... this was done. Then there are the tissue\n factors—four. Tendon factors—two. Nerve-splice factors—three\n again. After that, we move into a complex field, hormone-utilization\n factors—seven at the latest count and more coming up with further\n research.\n\n\n \"That's the beginning, but at the sensory organs we leave the simple\n stuff behind. Take the eye, for instance.\" Merrol leaned away because\n Dr. Crander seemed about to pluck one of Dan's eyes from its socket.\n \"Surgical and growth factors involved in splicing a massive nerve\n bundle pass any layman's comprehension. There are no non-technical\n terms to describe it.\"\nIt was just as well—Merrol didn't want a lecture. He extended his\n arms. One was of normal length, the other longer. \"Do you think you can\n do something with this? I don't mind variation in thickness—some of\n that will smooth out as I exercise—but I'd like them the same length.\"\n\n\n \"There were many others injured at the same time, you know—and you\n were one of the last to be extricated from the ship. Normally, when\n we have to replace a whole arm, we do so at the shoulder for obvious\n reasons. But the previously treated victims had depleted our supplies.\n Some needed only a hand and we gave them just that, others a hand and\n a forearm, and so on. When we got to you, we had to use leftovers or\n permit you to die—there wasn't time to send to other hospitals. In\n fact there wasn't any time at all—we actually thought you were dead,\n but soon found we were wrong.\"\n\n\n Crander stared at a crack in the ceiling. \"Further recovery will take\n other operations and your nervous system isn't up to it.\" He shook his\n head. \"Five years from now, we can help you, not before.\"\n\n\n Merrol turned away miserably. There were other things, but he had\n learned the essentials. He was Dan Merrol and there was nothing they\n could do for him until it was too late. How long could he expect Erica\n to wait?\n\n\n The doctor hadn't finished the medical session. \"Replacement of body\n parts is easy, after all. The big trouble came when we went into the\n brain.\"\n\n\n \"Brain?\" Dan was startled.\n\n\n \"How hard do you think your skull is?\" Crander came closer. \"Bend your\n head.\"\n\n\n Merrol obeyed and could feel the doctor's forefinger slice across his\n scalp in a mock operation. \"This sector was crushed.\" Roughly half his\n brain, it appeared. \"That's why so many memories were gone—not just\n from shock. In addition, other sectors were damaged and had to be\n replaced.\"\n\n\n Crander traced out five areas he could feel, but not see. \"Samuel\n Kaufman, musician—Breed Mannly, cowboy actor—George Elkins,\n lepidopterist—Duke DeCaesares, wrestler—and Ben Eisenberg,\n mathematician, went into the places I tapped.\"\n\n\n Dan raised his head. Some things were clearer. The memories were\n authentic, but they weren't his—nor did the other wives belong to him.\n It was no wonder Erica had cringed at their names.\n\n\n \"These donors were dead, but you can be thankful we had parts of their\n brains available.\" Crander delved into the file and came up with a\n sheet.\n\n\n \"Here are some body part contributors.\" He read rapidly. \"Dimwiddie,\n Barton, Colton, Morton, Flam and Carnera were responsible for arms and\n hands. Greenberg, Rochefault, Gonzalez, Tall-Cloud, Gowraddy and Tsin\n supplied feet and legs.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Erica unhappy when Dan was describing his six previous wives?", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_1", "options": ["Because Dan remembered all of their names", "Because she did not want to be the seventh wife", "Because did not know that Dan was married before hand", "Because Dan had not been married to these women"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the doctors let Dan leave the hospital?", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_2", "options": ["They did not, he left in secret", "They were following Wysocki's theorem ", "They ran out of space for patients because of the accident", "They believed he was fully recovered"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How long was Dan in recovery in the Hospital?", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_3", "options": ["Two months", "Three months", "Two weeks", "One Week"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Dan believe that he was a lepidpoptera specialist? ", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_4", "options": ["He received a partial brain transplant from a lepidopterist", "He was repeating what the doctors from the hospital told him", "He was mis-remembering a former career", "He collected butterflies as a hobby"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Dan think Erica's motivation was for coming onto him physically?", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_5", "options": ["She was afraid of him", "She felt sorry for him", "She missed him ", "She like his new body"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who was Wysocki?", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_6", "options": ["The Dr. working on Dan's recovery ", "A neuroscience researcher who's work helped save Dan", "A non-existent scientist that Dan made up", "One of the organ donors"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the receptionist at the hospital laugh at the Dan?", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_7", "options": ["His physical appearance was comical", "His request to see the Dr. without an appointment was absurd", "He clumsily brushed her on the shoulder.", "She was surprised to see that he had returned"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Dr. Crander so proud of his work on the patient?", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_8", "options": ["They were able to rehabilitate Dan much more quickly than expected. ", "No one had ever spent that extreme amount of time in a regeneration tank before", "They thought the patient would never walk or talk again. ", "Overcoming the complexities involved in matching donor body parts."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the hospital positively identify the patient from the accident?", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_9", "options": ["His location during the crash ", "Mass-cell radiographs", "Dental records", "Erica identified the patient"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who did the patient that was identified as Dan Merrol end up actually being? ", "question_unique_id": "51295_4B89NF9L_10", "options": ["An unknown survivor of the wreck", "Samuel Kaufman", "Doctor Crander", "Dan Merrol himself"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/9/51295//51295-h//51295-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20064", "set_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Slate", "title": "Dark Side Lite", "year": "1999", "author": "David Edelstein", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Dark Side Lite \n\n         Those poor souls who've been camping out in front of theaters for six weeks: Who can blame them for saying, \"To hell with the critics, we know it will be great!\"? The doors will open, and they'll race to grab the best seats and feel a surge of triumph as their butts sink down. We've made it: Yeeehaww!! They'll cheer when the familiar John Williams fanfare erupts and the title-- Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace --rises out of the screen and the backward-slanted opening \"crawl\" begins: \"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away ...\" Yaaahhhhhhh!!! Then, their hearts pounding, they'll settle back to read the rest of the titles: \"Turmoil has engulfed the Galactic Republic. The taxation of trade routes to outlying star systems is in dispute.\" Taxation of trade routes: Waaahoooo!!!!              \n\n         How long will they go with it? At what point will they realize that what they've heard is, alas, true, that the picture really is a stiff? Maybe they never will. Maybe they'll want to love The \n\n            Phantom Menace so much--because they have so much emotional energy invested in loving it, and in buying the books, magazines, dolls, cards, clothes, soap, fast food, etc.--that the realization will never sink in. In successful hypnosis, the subject works to enter a state of heightened susceptibility, to surrender to a higher power. Maybe they'll conclude that common sense is the enemy of the Force and fight it to the death. \n\n         Look, I wanted to love The Phantom Menace , too. I was an adolescent boy and would enjoy being one again for a couple of hours. But the movie has a way of deflating all but the most delusional of hopes. If someone had given Ed Wood $115 million to remake Plan Nine From Outer Space it might have looked like this, although Wood's dialogue would surely have been more memorable. \n\n         The first thing that will strike you is that George Lucas, who wrote and directed the movie, has forgotten how to write and direct a movie. Having spent the two decades since the original Star Wars (1977) concocting skeletons of screenplays that other people flesh out, and overseeing productions that other people storyboard and stage, he has come to lack what one might Michelangelistically term \"the spark of life.\" If the first Star Wars was a box of Cracker Jacks that was all prizes, The Phantom Menace is a box of Cracker Jacks that's all diagrams of prizes. It's there on paper, but it's waiting to be filled in and jazzed up. \n\n         Advance word has been cruel to the actors, but advance word has it only half right. Yes, they're terrible, but Liam Neeson, Ewan McGregor, and Natalie Portman are not terrible actors, they've just been given scenes that no human could be expected to play. As a sage Jedi Master called Qui-Gon Jinn, Neeson must maintain a Zen-like detachment from the universe around him--probably not a challenge when that universe will be added in later by computers. \"I don't sense anything,\" he tells his uneasy young apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi (McGregor), as the two sit waiting to conduct trade negotiations with a bunch of gray, fish-faced Federation officers who talk like extras in a samurai movie. McGregor furrows his brow. \"There's something ... elusive,\" he says, working to enunciate like a young Alec Guinness but succeeding only in nullifying his natural Scots charm. \"Master,\" he adds, \"you said I should be mindful of the future.\" Neeson thinks a bit. \"I do sense an unusual amount of fear for something as trivial as this trade dispute.\" \n\n         A hologram of Darth Sidious, Dark Lord of the \"Sith,\" commands the Federation to sic its battle droids on the Jedi ambassadors before they can apprise Queen Amidala (Portman) of the imminent invasion of the peaceful planet of Naboo. In come the battle droids and out come the light sabers, which still hum like faulty fluorescents. Clack, clack, clack. Lucas can't edit fight scenes so that they're fluid--he cuts on the clack. You get the gist, though. The Jedi make their getaway, but with gas and tolls and droid destroyers, it takes them over an hour to land on Naboo, by which time the queen and the Galactic Senate have already got the grim message. For one thing, communications have been disrupted: \"A communications disruption can mean only one thing,\" says someone. \"Invasion.\" \n\n         Queen Amidala, done up like a white-faced Chinese empress in hanging beads and glass balls and a hat with curly horns, speaks in tones from which emotion has been expunged, perhaps on the theory that subjects won't argue with a ruler who puts them to sleep: \"I ... will ... not ... condone ... a ... course ... of ... action ... that ... will ... lead ... us ... to ... war,\" she drones. Meanwhile, the Jedi whiz through the underwater core of a planet in a man-of-warlike submersible pursued by 3-D dragony beasties and a giant catfish with extra movable parts. Potentially thrilling stuff, but Neeson and McGregor remain peculiarly unruffled. \"The Force will guide us,\" says Neeson blandly, and the director seems to share his lack of urgency. There's Zen detachment and there's Quaalude detachment, and The Phantom                 Menace falls into the second camp: It really does take place a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. When R2-D2 showed up, I thought: At last, a character with the potential for intimacy!              \n\n         Say this for Lucas, he doesn't whip up a lot of bogus energy, the way the makers of such blockbusters as The Mummy (1999) and Armageddon (1998) do. It's as if he conceived The Phantom Menace as a Japanese No pageant and has purposely deadened his actors, directing them to stand stiffly in the dead center of the screen against matte paintings of space or some futuristic metropolis and deliver lines alternately formal or bemusing. (\"This is an odd move for the Trade Federation.\") Lucas considers himself an \"independent\" filmmaker and an artist of integrity. Had he not been such a pretentious overlord, a platoon of screenwriters would doubtless have been engaged to rewrite him and make the movie halfway human. A buddy specialist would have punched up the Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi badinage, and a black dialogue specialist would have given the comic-relief character, Jar Jar Binks, a man-size dinosaur with pop eyes and a vaguely West Indian patois, something fresher than \"Ex-squeeze me!\" and a lot of Butterfly McQueen-style simpering and running away from battles. Those of us who complain about the assembly-line production of \"blockbuster\" scripts need an occasional reminder that assembly lines can do much to make empty thrill machines more lively. \n\n                         The Phantom Menace didn't need to be barren of feeling, but it took a real writer, Lawrence Kasdan ( The Big Chill , 1983), to draft the best and most inspiring of the Star Wars movies, The Empire Strikes Back (1980), and a real director, Irvin Kershner, to breathe Wagnerian grandeur into Lucas' cartoonish fantasies. Having lived with the saga for so many years, the audience was prepared to set aside some of its narrative expectations here to plumb the origins of Lucas' universe. In The Phantom Menace , however, the Jedi already exist and the Force is taken for granted--we're still in the middle of the damn story. The only dramatic interest comes from a young Tatooine slave named Anakin Skywalker (Jake Lloyd), whom we know will grow up to father Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) and Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) and then surrender to the dark side of the Force and become Darth Vader. But that transformation won't happen until the third episode; meanwhile, Anakin is a conventionally industrious juvenile with a penchant for building droids from scratch and \"pod racing\"--an activity that he demonstrates in one of the movie's most impressive but irrelevant special effects set pieces, a whiplash hyperdrive permutation of the chariot race in Ben-Hur (1959). \n\n         Later in the film, when Anakin goes before something called the Jedi Council and meets Yoda and Samuel L. Jackson (together again!), Lucas dramatizes the interrogation so ineptly that you either have to take Yoda's word that there's something wrong with the boy (\"Clouded this boy's future is\") or to conclude that Yoda, like us, is moving backward through time and has already seen Episodes 4 through 6. Anakin, he says smugly, has fear in him, and fear leads to anger and anger to the dark side--which would mean, as I interpret it, that only people without fear (i.e., people who don't exist) are suitable candidates for Jedi knighthood (perhaps Yoda will enlarge his definition of fear in subsequent episodes). There's also some quasireligious, quasiscientific blather to the effect that the boy was conceived without a father by \"metachorians\"--symbiont, microscopic life forms that will speak to you if you \"quiet your mind.\" In other words, the Force. So, it's not nebulous, after all! It can be measured. It can be quantified. It can even, perhaps, be merchandised. \n\n         Yes, the effects are first-rate, occasionally breathtaking. But the floating platforms in the Galactic Senate do little to distract you from parliamentary machinations that play like an especially dull day on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine . The final military engagement, in which long-headed attack droids are rolled onto the field as the spokes of a giant wheel, would be awesome if Lucas didn't routinely cut away from the battle just when he seems on the verge of actually thrilling you. The chief villain, bombastically named Darth Maul, is a horned, red, Kabuki-style snake demon with orange pingpong-ball eyes who challenges the Jedi to a couple of clackety light-saber battles. His appearances are underscored by demonic chants; he might as well wear a neon beanie that flashes \"Bad Guy.\" Like all revisionist historians, Lucas cheats like mad. If Darth Vader had built C-3PO as a young man, how come he never paid much attention to him in the other movies--and vice versa? As Yoda himself puts it, in another context, \"See through you we can.\" \n\n          Still, it's worth reprinting a blistering e-mail sent to my wife by a relative, after she'd let him know that I hated The Phantom Menace : \n\n                         Surprise, Surprise. Star Wars was never reviewed well by critics. Sometimes a basic story that rests on great special effects and stupid dialogue can be very entertaining--it's called a cult movie, and no critic can have an effect on the obvious outcome that this is going to be the highest grossing movie ever. I myself stood in line for five hours and already have tickets to see it three times, and I know I'll enjoy it. Why? Because it plays on my childhood imagination. And I'm sure it's not as bad as Return of the Jedi , which was the weakest one--but I still liked it and saw it a dozen times. I get tired of being told I'm not going to like it because it doesn't adhere to certain basic critic criteria. I say bpthhhh (sticking my tongue out to review)--don't be sending me anything dissing my movie:):):)              \n\n         I'll be curious to know whether he sees The Phantom Menace a dozen times, or even the three for which he has paid. (I could imagine seeing it three times only if they sold adrenaline shots at the concession stand.) Or maybe he'll come out of the movie and say: \"No, you didn't get it, Mr. Snot-Nosed-Criteria Critic Person. It's not supposed to be exciting. It's laying the foundation for the next chapter, when Anakin and Obi-Wan defeat the Mandalorian warriors in the Clone Wars and Anakin marries Queen Amidala. And listen, I'm getting in line even earlier for tickets to Episode 2 . The Force is with me, butt-head.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the main reason that the author thinks that some people will like the Phantom Menace?", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_1", "options": ["The exceptional cast", "The special effects and CGI", "Emotional attachment and nostalgia", "The good writing"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author think that the actors in the Phantom Menace do not give a good performance?", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_2", "options": ["The use of green screen prevents getting into character", "They were cast in the wrong roles", "The writing for their characters is bad", "They were rushed during filming"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author think of the editing in the film?", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_3", "options": ["It is choppy and does not flow during action scenes", "All three other choices are correct", "There are cuts made at inopportune moments", "The special effects are spectacular"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author feel about the Phantom Menace's implications on the timeline of Star Wars as a whole?", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_4", "options": ["He is upset by the time wasted divulging useless backstory and information", "He feels that it will be an important entry in the lore", "He feels that it lacks effort for under explaining certain aspects", "He likes that the original details of the trilogy has been preserved "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What issue does the Author have with Natalie Portman's character?", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_5", "options": ["Her inability to deal with Darth Sidious' threats", "She is too aggressive as a leader", "Her monotone and emotionless tone", "Her costume design is distracting "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What issue does the Author have with Liam Neeson's character?", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_6", "options": ["His slow movements during fight scenes", "His over-delivery of lines", "His apathy in all situations", "His lack of chemistry with his co-stars"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the author think that George Lucas could have made the movie better?", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_7", "options": ["Relying more heavily on CGI", "Casting better actors for the rolls", "Delaying the release and taking more time", "Listening to his large group of employed screenwriters"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author dislike the character Darth Maul", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_8", "options": ["He felt the character's costume was distracting", "He felt that the character was too obvious of a villain", "He didn't feel that the character was intimidating enough", "The character didn't have enough lines"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What issue does the author take with Yoda's judgement of Anakin?", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_9", "options": ["He does not like the CGI used during the scenes with Yoda", "He feels that the judgement is passed too quickly", "Yoda is being closed-minded about the boy's origins", "It implies that Yoda has knowledge of the events of the future."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the person responding to the author feel that the Phantom Menace will do well regardless of critics.", "question_unique_id": "20064_CU1CDFL8_10", "options": ["The overblown advertisement for the movie", "People buying multiple tickets to see the movie", "The next movie in the series has already announced ", "The franchise being a \"cult classic\""], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20068", "set_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Slate", "title": " Defining Decay Down", "year": "1999", "author": "David Plotz", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Defining Decay Down \n\n         If you haven't visited a dentist in the past few years, first of all, that's gross. (Checkups are every six months, and don't pretend you forgot.) Second, be grateful that you have avoided the \"intra-oral camera.\" As the dentist (or assistant) navigates this horrifying little gadget through the graveyard of your mouth, a color television magnifies the florid pustulance of your gums and the puke-yellow dinge of your smile. A harmless crevice in your silver-mercury amalgam filling looks like Hell's Canyon. The microcracks in your enamel look like a broken window. All this can be fixed, of course, with 10 grand of straightening, filling, sealing, and whitening. \"You will agree to anything the second they put that thing in your mouth,\" says one recent victim of the camera. \"You can't believe you are walking around with that, that, that ick in your mouth.\" \n\n         The transformation of American dentistry from drill-and-fill to shoot-and-loot is an unlikely business success story of the '90s, a case study in how a profession can work itself out of a job and still prosper. Dentists, after all, are supposed to be extinct by now. While they happily (and profitably) scraped teeth and filled cavities during the '60s and '70s, fluoride was quietly choking off their revenue stream. The percentage of children with cavities fell by half and kept falling. People stopped going to the dentist, because they didn't need to. At the same time, the government funded dental-school construction, spilling new dentists into a saturated market. Many found themselves cleaning teeth for $10 an hour in mall clinics. In 1984, Forbes magazine forecast the end of the profession. Only a few lonely dentists would survive to fill the few remaining cavities, the last vestiges of a once-great civilization on Long Island. \n\n         Instead, the number of dentists has jumped 20 percent, and the average salary soared from $76,000 in 1987 to $124,000 in 1996. What happened? In part, the oversupply of dentists and the declining demand for fillings forced the profession to change. Dentists had to become nicer and visits less unpleasant. The Marathon Man has been replaced by Dr. Soothe. \"People figured out pretty darn quickly that if you were an ass, patients would not come to you,\" says Dr. William Hartel, a St. Louis dentist. Many dentists' offices let you don virtual reality glasses and watch movies on them. Others offer massage therapy and hot tubs. Does your dentist have a certificate of pain management on her wall? I bet she does. \n\n         The most important discovery dentists made was the endless vanity of aging baby boomers. \"We are dealing now with the boomers who are the runners and the joggers and the dieters, and they are very concerned with how they look,\" says American Dental Association President Dr. Timothy Rose. Since going to the dentist was no longer a necessary evil, dentists made it an unnecessary pleasure. They allied themselves with the self-improvement movement. \"You still go for the needs, for the cavity that has to get filled, but more and more people ... come here to feel better about themselves,\" says Dr. Stephen Friedman, a Maryland dentist. \n\n         People used to be happy if they made it to old age with enough choppers to chew. But boomers, lured by media images of the Great American Smile, expect more. According to an ADA poll, the percentage of people who are \"very satisfied\" with their teeth has dropped from 57 percent to 46 percent in the past decade. Dentists have learned to play on this vanity and anxiety, encouraging dental care that is medically unnecessary but attractive to patients. \"It's as if you went to a physician for a treatment for a disease and he said you needed a nose job,\" says Dr. John Dodes, author of Healthy Teeth: A User's Manual . \n\n         To flog $500 teeth whitenings and multi-thousand dollar adult orthodontic treatments, dentists run computer simulations of your whitened, straightened teeth. Tooth color is measured on a scale that starts at A1. \"My dentist showed me these disgusting color charts and told me, 'You're an A2 now, but by the time you want to get married you are going to be an A4. And no one wants to marry an A4,' \" says one woman who got her teeth bleached. Dentists also prod patients to replace perfectly functional gray-metal fillings with tooth-colored plastic ones and to dump their solid gold crowns for white porcelain. Other dentists sell the psychology of tooth appearance. One dentist specializing in porcelain caps advises that male bosses with small teeth seem \"weak.\" \n\n         Some dentists dress up these cosmetic measures in medical scare talk. A friend of mine just quit a dentist who was pressuring him to whiten his teeth as a \"preventive measure.\" (To prevent what? Yellow teeth?) Many dentists claim, without scientific evidence, that the mercury in amalgam fillings is dangerous. They urge patients to replace the excellent amalgam with plastic fillings at four times the price. \n\n         Dentists make a killing on bad breath--or \"halitosis,\" as they prefer to call it. Breath clinics have sprouted up all over the country and are heavily advertised on the Web. They terrify patients with a \"halimeter,\" a new gadget that measures a nasty smelling chemical called methyl mercaptan. Armed with the halimeter proof, the dentist then dangles expensive mouthwashes and tongue scrapers in front of the patient. Never mind that you can get the same results for free with careful brushing and basic tongue-scraping. The machine makes the sale. \"Now that there is this machine that can document your complaint and can put a number on it, it motivates a patient to actually do something about it. But the treatments available now are the same ones that have been available for 15 years,\" says Hartel. \n\n         Entrepreneurial dentists market this elective care with trained aggression. Dental management organizations often require their employees to recite a quasisales script guiding patients toward profitable cosmetics. Ads in the Journal of the American Dental Association and on the Web promote tapes and classes on marketing techniques. One person I know quit his dentist when he spied a pamphlet in the office instructing the dentist in how to get his patients to \"trade up\" to more expensive treatment. The ADA's annual conference is overflowing with seminars on topics such as \"how to move your patients to 'yes.' \" \n\n         The industry calls this technique \"treatment acceptance,\" a marvelous euphemism for parting you from your money. According to the ADA's journal, this year's ADA conference will include an all-day \"Treatment Acceptance\" seminar \"for the dental team that is fed up with patients accepting only what insurance covers or asking for alternative cheaper treatment plans. Involve the entire team in creating the strategies for patients to accept optimum care.\" \n\n         This hard sell is critical in dentistry in a way that it isn't in other medicine because of the profession's brutal economics. Dental insurance covers only 44 percent of Americans (compared to more than 80 percent for health insurance), and provides skimpy coverage for those who do have it. As a result, patients pay most dental costs--about 60 percent of them--out of their own pockets. Dental care is just another way to spend discretionary income, competing with a vacation or a new car. Dentists have to make patients want adult orthodontics in a way physicians don't have to make patients want a quadruple bypass. \n\n         It's tempting to dismiss the whole industry as a scam, particularly when dentists keep coming up with new ailments such as bruxism (teeth grinding), periodontal disease, malocclusion (bad bite), and microcracks. But these ailments are real, and our awareness of them shows how far dentistry has come. A generation ago, dentists filled teeth and cast dentures because that's all they knew. Decay killed so many teeth that fancier problems seldom arose. Since then, researchers have studied bonding, implants, and periodontal disease. Dentists can now make crowns that last forever, bridges that stay anchored, dentures that behave almost like real teeth. A generation ago, implants were a joke. Today's implants, affixed to your jawbone by a titanium screw, can hold for the rest of your life. \n\n         Scientists have learned how bacteria can build up in gaps in the gum, cause infection, weaken the jawbone, and eventually murder teeth. New research links these periodontal bacteria to heart disease, diabetes, low birth-weight babies, and other nastiness you'd expect from bacteria running wild in the bloodstream. This is why your dentist hectors you to rubber-tip your gums, brush with a superconcentrated fluoride toothpaste, and wear a night guard to control your bruxing (which loosens teeth, opening pockets between teeth and gum, etc.). It's also why your dentist may bully you into gum surgery. It all seems unpleasant and slightly absurd--the night guard is \"an excellent form of birth control,\" as one wearer puts it--but the alternative is losing your teeth at 40, getting dentures, and gumming your food. Dentistry is a hassle now because it works. \n\n         \"If you think back a couple of generations, it was considered inevitable that people would lose their teeth when they reached midlife. Around 40 or 45, you would have your teeth taken out. Periodontal disease was not understood, and decay was rampant. But now teeth are resistant to decay and are lasting a lifetime. I have gone in 18 years from learning how to make dentures and thinking it is OK for people to lose teeth to being appalled if anyone loses teeth. It is a failure,\" says Dr. Judith Penski, my own fabulous D.C. dentist. \n\n         Which brings us to the irony of dentistry's comeback: Just as patients love the dental care they should suspect, they resent the care they should appreciate. Aesthetic dentistry is the most profitable segment of the business because it is an easy sell. Put a camera in your mouth and you'll want whiter teeth, too. It is much harder to convince someone to poke her gums every night with a piece of rubber, to sleep with a choking plastic tooth guard, and to undergo four surgeries to fix a gum flap, all for a benefit that is decades away. The very success of dentistry has raised expectations so high that patients now object to any inconvenience. Americans under 60 believe keeping all their teeth is an entitlement: Telling them they need gum surgery to preserve their teeth makes them angry, not grateful--even though those teeth would have been goners 20 years ago. \n\n         When I surveyed 100 friends and acquaintances about their dental complaints, few bitched about cosmetic dentistry that was foisted on them. They like their whiter, straighter teeth. No, they griped about the medically advisable treatments that their dentists prescribed, especially gum surgeries and mouth guards. Pity the poor dentist who abjures cosmetic dentistry but vigorously protects patients' teeth. Patients don't like periodontal treatment, so they suspect it's a rip-off. This could not be further from the truth. \n\n         \"Dentists are aware of providing what patients want,\" says Hartel. \"I had a woman come in with a terrible toothache. She needed a root canal, but she did not want it. But she did want her teeth bleached, and she paid cash for it.\" \n\n         Such is the triumph of American dentists: If they can't sell you what you need, they'll sell you what you want.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why are patients more likely to want to undergo procedures after the use of the camera?", "question_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7_1", "options": ["They are intrigued by the advances in medical science", "They don't want to have to undergo a procedure with the camera again", "Seeing the imperfections inside their mouths disgusts them ", "Doctors are able to more accurately diagnose their issues"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What reason is given for dentist being a dying profession in the 1980's?", "question_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7_2", "options": ["Dental work became too expensive for the average working class person to afford", "Flouride toothpaste and dental technology were reducing the need for cleanings and fillings", "People were afraid to go to the dentist and would just go without", "The public's diet improved, leading to better dental health"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the main reason that the profession of dentist started to make a comeback in the 1990's?", "question_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7_3", "options": ["The average American's diet became more processed, leading to worse dental health", "The increased popularity of purely cosmetic dental procedures", "Dentist offices offering other health and wellness services ", "Procedures becoming more advanced and less painful in general"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do dentists sell unnecessary cosmetic procedures to their patients? ", "question_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7_4", "options": ["All of the options are correct", "By relying on psychological tricks and societal pressure", "By using medical jargon to confuse the patient ", "By implying that the procedures are more necessary than they really are"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the author think that dentistry has made new discoveries in dental disease in the past decades?", "question_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7_5", "options": ["People are more worried about their dental hygiene in recent years", "Historically, most people would lose their teeth before the more complex dental issues arose", "The doctors are making up new diseases in order to sell equipment", "To scare patients into choosing to do unnecessary cosmetic procedures"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the author think people's satisfaction with their own teeth has gone down over time?", "question_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7_6", "options": ["Dentistry has gotten more expensive and become unaffordable", "Modern dental procedures are more temporary than those of the past", "Younger generations have much higher expectations for dental health ", "The average diet today is higher in sugar and causes more dental decay"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What seems to be the main focus of the ADA as described in the passage?", "question_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7_7", "options": ["Sharing research about new developments in dental medicine", "Informing dentists about new laws and regulations related to the practice", "Selling medical equipment used in modern dental procedures", "Teaching dentists how to sell elective cosmetic procedures"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do modern dental procedures compare to those of the past?", "question_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7_8", "options": ["There are less options available", "They are more temporary ", "They are more permanent", "They are more comfortable "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the author's overall feeling towards modern dentistry as a whole in this passage?", "question_unique_id": "20068_RWLK60G7_9", "options": ["Apathetic; the author reports the developments in the dental industry in an unbiased manor", "Negative; the author believes that all of the advancements of modern dentistry are an unnecessary scam ", "Positive; the author implies that modern dentistry has only improved the dental hygiene of the public", "Mixed; the author acknowledges both positives and negative aspects of modern dentistry"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "51688", "set_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Air of Castor Oil", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; PS", "article": "THE AIR OF CASTOR OIL\nBY JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by WALKER\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine August 1961.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nLet the dead past bury its dead?\n \nNot while I am alive, it won't!\nIt surely was all right for me to let myself do it now. I couldn't have\n been more safe. In the window of the radio store a color television\n set was enjoying a quiz by itself and creased in my pocket was the\n newspaper account of the failure of a monumental human adventure in the\n blooming extinction of a huge rocket. The boys on the corner seemed\n hardly human, scowling anthropoids in walrus-skin coats. It was my own\n time. Anybody could see I was safe, and I could risk doing what I ached\n to do.\n\n\n I turned the corner.\n\n\n The breaks were against me from the start. It didn't come as any\n surprise. I could never get away with it. I knew that all along.\n\n\n There was a Packard parked just beyond the fire plug.\n\n\n The metal and glass fronts of the buildings didn't show back here, only\n seasoned brick glued with powdering chalk. The line of the block seemed\n to stretch back, ever further away from the glossy fronts into the\n crumbling stone.\n\n\n A man brushed past me, wearing an Ivy League suit and snap-brim hat,\n carrying a briefcase. And, reassuringly, he was in a hurry.\n\n\n I decided to chance it. I certainly wanted to do it in the worst way.\n\n\n My footsteps carried me on down the block.\n\n\n A little car spurted on past me. One of those foreign jobs, I decided.\n Only it wasn't. I fixed the silhouette in my mind's eye and identified\n it. A Henry J.\n\n\n Still, I wasn't worried. It was actually too early in the day. It\n wasn't as if it were evening or anything like that.\n\n\n The little store was right where I left it, rotting quietly to itself.\n The Back Number Store, the faded circus poster proclaimed in red and\n gold, or now, pink and lemon. In the window, in cellophane envelopes,\n were the first issue of\nLife\n, a recent issue of\nModern Man\nwith\n a modern woman fronting it, a Big Big Book of\nBuck Rogers and the\n Silver Cities of Venus\n, and a brand-new, sun-bleached copy of\nDoctor\n Zhivago\n.\n\n\n There was a little car at the curb. This time I recognized that it\n wasn't an import, just a Crosley.\n\n\n I went in, the brass handle making me conscious of the sweat on my palm.\nThe old man sat behind a fortress of magazines and books, treacherously\n reading the funnies in a newspaper. His bald head swiveled on the\n hunched shoulders of his sweater which was azuring toward white. He\n grinned, toothless.\n\n\n \"Came back for more of the stuff, did you?\"\n\n\n He laid down the newspaper. (That subheadline couldn't really be\n making so nasty a suggestion to a noted general, could it?)\n\n\n \"Yes,\" I laughed, not very true.\n\n\n \"I know what a craving can be. I shouldn't smoke, but I do. I've tried\n to stop but I lie there thinking about cigarettes half the night. Long\n ones, short ones, smoked ones, ones unlit. I feel like I could smoke\n one in each hand. It like that with you?\"\n\n\n \"Not that bad. To me it's just—\"\n\n\n \"Don't tell me reading isn't a craving with some of you fellows. I've\n seen guys come in here, hardly two threads stuck together on them, and\n grab up them horror magazines and read and read, until sweat starts\n rolling off the end of their nose. I've hardly got the heart to throw\n 'em out.\"\n\n\n Horror magazines. Ones with lovely girls about to have their flesh\n shredded by toothy vampires. Yes, they were a part of it. Not a big\n part, but a part.\n\n\n \"That's not what I want to see. I want—\"\n\n\n The old man snickered. \"I know what you want. Indeed I do. This way.\"\n\n\n I followed his spidering hand and sure enough, there they were. Stacks\n upon stacks of air-war pulp magazines.\n\n\n \"Fifteen cents for ones in good condition,\" the old man pronounced the\n ritual, \"a dime for ones with incomplete covers, three for a quarter,\n check 'em at the desk when you go.\"\n\n\n I ran my hand down a stack.\nWings\n,\nDaredevil Aces\n,\nG-8 and his\n Battle Aces\n,\nThe Lone Eagle\n, all of them.\n\n\n The old man was watching me. He skittered back across the floor and\n snatched up a magazine. It was a copy of\nSky Fighters\nwith a girl in\n a painted-on flying suit hanging from the struts of a Tiger Moth.\n\n\n \"This one, this one,\" he said. \"This must be a good one. I bet she\n gets shoved right into that propeller there. I bet she gets chopped to\n pieces. Pieces.\"\n\n\n \"I'll take it.\"\n\n\n Reluctantly he handed over the magazine, waited a moment, then left me.\n\n\n I stared at the stacks of flying story magazines and I felt the slow\n run of the drop of sweat down my nose.\n\n\n My sickness was terrible. It is as bad to be nostalgic for things\n you have never known as for an orphan who has never had a home to be\n homesick.\nLiving in the past, that was always me. I never watched anything on TV\n made later than 1935. I was in love with Garbo, Ginger Rogers, Dolores\n del Rio. My favorite stars were Richard Dix, Chester Morris and Richard\n Arlen.\n\n\n The music I listened to was Gershwin and Arlen and Chicago jazz.\n\n\n And my reading was the pulp literature harking back to the First World\n War. This was the biggest part of it all, I think.\n\n\n You identify with the hero of any story if it's well enough written.\n But the identification I felt with the pilots in air-war stories was\n plainly ridiculous.\n\n\n I was there.\nI was in the saddle of the cockpit, feeling on my face the bite of the\n slipstream—no, that was a later term—the prop-wash?—no, that was\n still later—the backlash from the screw, that was it. I was lifting\n to meet the Fokker triplanes in the dawn sky. Then in a moment my\n Vickers was chattering in answer to Spandaus, firing through the screw\n outfitted with iron edges to deflect bullets that did not pass to the\n left and right. And back through the aerial maps in the cockpit pocket\n at my knee.\n\n\n Here he comes, the Spandaus firing right through the screw in perfect\n synchronization. Look at that chivalrous wave. You can almost see the\n dueling scar on his cheek from old Krautenberg. He can afford to be\n chivalrous in that Fokker. I'd like to trade this skiddoo for it. That\n may be just what I do too if I don't watch it.\n\n\n You ain't any Boelcke, mister, but this is from the Fifth for Squadron\n 70.\n\n\n Missed!\n\n\n Hard on that rudder! God, look at the snake in that fabric. At least it\n was a lie about them using incendiaries.\n\n\n One of your own tricks for you, Heinie. Up on the stick, up under your\n tail, into the blind spot. Where am I? Where am I?\nRight here.\nLook at that tail go. Tony can't be giving you as good stuff as he\n claims.\n\n\n So long. I'm waving, see.\n\n\n He's pulling her up. No tail and he's pulling her up. He's a good man.\n Come on. A little more. A little more and you can deadstick her. Come\n on, buddy. You're doing it. You're pulling her up—\n\n\n But not enough.\n\n\n God, what a mess.\n\n\n I'm sick.\n\n\n That damned castor oil in the carburetor. I'll be in the W. C. until\n oh-six-hundred....\nNo, the air wasn't one of castor oil but the pleasant smell of aged\n paper and printer's ink.\n\n\n I'd been daydreaming again. I shouldn't forget things were getting\n different lately. It was becoming dangerous.\n\n\n I gathered up an armload of air-war magazines at random.\n\n\n Leaning across the table, I noticed the curtain in back for the first\n time. It was a beaded curtain of many different colors. Theda Bara\n might have worn it for a skirt. Behind the curtain was a television\n set. It was a comforting anti-anachronism here.\n\n\n The six- or eight-inch picture was on a very flat tube, a more\n pronounced Predicta. The size and the flatness didn't seem to go\n together. Then I saw that the top part of the set was a mirror\n reflecting an image from the roof of the cabinet where the actual\n picture tube lay flat.\n\n\n There was an old movie on the channel. An old, old movie. Lon Chaney,\n Sr., in a western as a badman. He was protecting a doll-faced blonde\n from the rest of the gang, standing them off from a grove of rocks. The\n flickering action caught my unblinking eyes.\n\n\n Tom Santschi is sneaking across the top of the rocks, a knife in his\n dirty half-breed hand. Raymond Hatton makes a try for his old boss, but\n Chaney stops his clock for him. Now William Farnum is riding up with\n the posse. Tom makes a try with the knife, the girl screams, and Chaney\n turns the blade back on him. It goes through his neck, all the way\n through.\n\n\n The blonde is running toward Farnum as he polishes off the rest of the\n gang and dismounts, her blouse shredded, revealing one breast—is\n that the dawn of Bessie Love? Chaney stands up in the rocks. Farnum\n aims his six-shooter. No, no, say the girl's lips. \"No!\" \"No!\" says\n the subtitle. Farnum fires. Swimming in blood, Chaney smiles sadly and\n falls.\n\n\n I had seen movies like that before.\n\n\n When I was a kid, I had seen\nFlicker Flashbacks\nbetween chapters of\n Flash Gordon and Johnny Mack Brown westerns. I looked at old movies and\n heard the oily voice making fun of them. But hadn't I also seen these\n pictures with the sound of piano playing and low conversation?\n\n\n I had seen these pictures before the war.\n\n\n The war had made a lot of difference in my life.\n\n\n Comic books were cut down to half their size, from 64 to 32 pages, and\n prices had gone up to where you had to pay $17 for a pair of shoes, so\n high that people said Wilson should do something about it.\n\n\n Tom Mix had gone off the air and he and his Cowboy Commandos beat the\n Japs in comic books. Only, hadn't he sold Liberty Bonds with Helen\n Morgan?\n\n\n And at school I had bought\n Defense—War—Savings—Security—Liberty—Freedom—I had bought stamps\n at school. I never did get enough to trade in for a bond, but Mama had\n taken my book and traded parts of it in for coffee. She could never get\n enough coffee....\n\n\n \"Nobody would look at my magazines,\" the old man chuckled, \"if I put it\n out front. My boy got me that. He runs a radio and Victrola store. A\n good boy. His name's in the fishbowl.\"\n\n\n I pressed some money on him and walked myself out of the store.\n Shutting the door, I saw that the copy of\nDoctor Zhivago\nhad been\n replaced by\nGone With the Wind\n.\nThe street was full of wooden-paneled station wagons, blunt little\n roadsters with canvas tops, swept-back, tailless sedans. Only one dark,\n tailed, over-thyroided car moved through the traffic. It had a light on\n the roof.\n\n\n I dodged in front of a horse-drawn garbage wagon and behind an electric\n postal truck and ran for that light, leaving a trail of gaudy air\n battles checkering the street behind me.\n\n\n I grabbed the handle on the door, opened it and threw myself into the\n back seat.\n\n\n \"Madison Avenue,\" I said from my diaphragm, without any breath behind\n it.\n\n\n Something was wrong. Two men were in the front seat. The driver showed\n me his hard, expressionless face. \"What do you think you are doing?\"\n\n\n \"This isn't a taxicab?\" I asked blankly.\n\n\n \"Park Police.\"\n\n\n I sat there while we drove on for a few minutes.\n\n\n \"D. & D.,\" the second man said to the driver.\n\n\n \"Right into our laps.\"\n\n\n The second officer leaned forward and clicked something. \"I'll get the\n City boys.\"\n\n\n \"No, kill it, Carl. Think of all that damned paper work.\"\n\n\n Carl shrugged. \"What will we do with him?\"\n\n\n I was beginning to attach myself to my surroundings. The street was\n full of traffic. My kind of traffic. Cars that were too big or too\n small.\n\n\n \"Look, officers, I'm not drunk or disorderly. I thought this was a cab.\n I just wanted to get away from back then—I mean back\nthere\n.\"\n\n\n The two policemen exchanged glances.\n\n\n \"What were you running from?\" the driver asked.\n\n\n How could I tell him that?\n\n\n Before I even got a chance to try, he said: \"What did you do?\"\n\n\n \"I didn't\ndo\nanything!\"\n\n\n The car was turning, turning into shadows, stopping. We were in an\n alley. Soggy newspapers, dead fish, prowling cats, a broken die, half\n a dice, looking big in the frame of my thick, probably bullet-proof\n window.\n\n\n The men opened their doors and then mine.\n\n\n \"Out.\"\nI climbed out and stood by the car, blinking.\n\n\n \"You were causing some kind of trouble in that neighborhood back\n there,\" the driver announced.\n\n\n \"Really, officers—\"\n\n\n \"What's your name?\"\n\n\n \"Hilliard Turner. There—\"\n\n\n \"We don't want you going back there again, Turner, causing trouble.\n Understand?\"\n\n\n \"Officer, I only bought some books—I mean magazines.\"\n\n\n \"These?\" the second man, Carl, asked. He had retrieved them from the\n back seat. \"Look here, Sarge. They look pretty dirty.\"\n\n\n Sarge took up the\nSky Fighters\nwith the girl in the elastic flying\n suit. \"Filth,\" he said.\n\n\n \"You know about the laws governing pornography, Turner.\"\n\n\n \"Those aren't pornography and they are my property!\"\n\n\n I reached for them and Carl pulled them back, grinning. \"You don't want\n to read these. They aren't good for you. We're confiscating them.\"\n\n\n \"Look here, I'm a citizen! You can't—\"\n\n\n Carl shoved me back a little. \"Can't we?\"\n\n\n Sarge stepped in front of me, his face in deadly earnest. \"How about\n it, Turner? You a narcotics user?\"\n\n\n He grabbed my wrist and started rolling up my sleeve to look for needle\n marks. I twisted away from him.\n\n\n \"Resisting an officer,\" Sarge said almost sadly.\n\n\n At that, Carl loped up beside him.\n\n\n The two of them started to beat me.\n\n\n They hit clean, in the belly and guts, but not in the groin. They gave\n me clean white flashes of pain, instead of angry, red-streaked ones.\n I didn't fight back, not against the two of them. I knew that much. I\n didn't even try to block their blows. I stood with my arms at my sides,\n leaning back against the car, and hearing myself grunt at each blow.\n\n\n They stood away from me and let me fold helplessly to the greasy brick.\n\n\n \"Stay away from that neighborhood and stay out of trouble,\" Sarge's\n voice said above me.\n\n\n I looked up a little bit and saw an ugly, battered hand thumbing across\n a stack of half a dozen magazines like a giant deck of cards.\n\n\n \"Why don't you take up detective stories?\" he asked me.\n\n\n I never heard the squad car drive away.\nHome. I lighted the living room from the door, looked around for\n intruders for the first time I could remember, and went inside.\n\n\n I threw myself on the couch and rubbed my stomach. I wasn't hurt badly.\n My middle was going to be sorer in the morning than it was now.\n\n\n Lighting up a cigarette, I watched the shapes of smoke and tried to\n think.\n\n\n I looked at it objectively, forward and back.\n\n\n The solution was obvious.\n\n\n First of all, I positively could\nnot\nhave been an aviator in World\n War One. I was in my mid-twenties; anybody could tell that by looking\n at me. The time was the late 'Fifties; anybody could tell that from\n the blank-faced Motorola in the corner, the new Edsels on the street.\n Memories of air combat in Spads and Nieuports stirred in me by old\n magazines, Quentin Reynolds, and re-runs of\nDawn Patrol\non television\n were mere hallucinations.\n\n\n Neither could I remember drinking bootleg hooch in speak-easies,\n hearing Floyd Gibbons announce the Dempsey-Tunney fight, or paying\n $3.80 to get into the first run of\nGone with the Wind\n.\n\n\n Only ... I probably had seen GWTW. Hadn't I gone with my mother to a\n matinee? Didn't she pay 90¢ for me? So how could I remember taking a\n girl, brunette, red sweater, Cathy, and paying $3.80 each? I couldn't.\n Different runs. That was it. The thing had been around half a dozen\n times. But would it have been $3.80 no more than ten years ago?\n\n\n I struck up a new cigarette.\n\n\n The thing I must remember, I told myself, was that my recollections\n were false and unreliable. It would do me no good to keep following\n these false memories in a closed curve.\n\n\n I touched my navel area and flinched. The beating, I was confident, had\n been real. But it had been a nightmare. Those cops couldn't have been\n true. They were a small boy's bad dream about symbolized authority.\n They were keeping me from re-entering the past where I belonged,\n punishing me to make me stay in my trap of the present.\n\n\n Oh, God.\n\n\n I rolled over on my face and pushed it into the upholstery.\n\n\n That was the worst part of it. False memories, feelings of persecution,\n that was one thing. Believing that you are actively caught up in a\n mixture of the past with the present, a Daliesque viscosity of reality,\n was something else.\n\n\n I needed help.\n\n\n Or if there was no help for me, it was my duty to have myself placed\n where I couldn't harm other consumers.\n\n\n If there was one thing that working for an advertising agency had\n taught me, it was social responsibility.\n\n\n I took up the phone book and located several psychiatrists. I selected\n one at random, for no particular reason.\n\n\n Dr. Ernest G. Rickenbacker.\n\n\n I memorized the address and heaved myself to my feet.\nThe doctor's office was as green as the inside of a mentholated\n cigarette commercial.\n\n\n The cool, lovely receptionist told me to wait and I did, tasting mint\n inside my mouth.\n\n\n After several long, peaceful minutes the inner door opened.\n\n\n \"Mr. Turner, I can't seem to find any record of an appointment for you\n in Dr. Rickenbacker's files,\" the man said.\n\n\n I got to my feet. \"Then I'll come back.\"\n\n\n He took my arm. \"No, no, I can fit you in.\"\n\n\n \"I didn't have an appointment. I just came.\"\n\n\n \"I understand.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe I had better go.\"\n\n\n \"I won't hear of it.\"\n\n\n I could have pulled loose from him, but somehow I felt that if I did\n try to pull away, the grip would tighten and I would never get away.\n\n\n I looked up into that long, hard, blank face that seemed so recently\n familiar.\n\n\n \"I'm Dr. Sergeant,\" he said. \"I'm taking care of Dr. Rickenbacker's\n practice for him while he is on vacation.\"\n\n\n I nodded. What I was thinking could only be another symptom of my\n illness.\n\n\n He led me inside and closed the door.\n\n\n The door made a strange sound in closing. It didn't go\nsnick-bonk\n; it\n made a noise like\nclick-clack-clunk\n.\n\n\n \"Now,\" he said, \"would you like to lie down on the couch and tell\n me about it? Some people have preconceived ideas that I don't want\n to fight with at the beginning. Or, if you prefer, you can sit\n there in front of my desk and tell me all about it. Remember, I'm a\n psychiatrist, a doctor, not just a psychoanalyst.\"\n\n\n I took possession of the chair and Sergeant faced me across his desk.\n\n\n \"I feel,\" I said, \"that I am caught up in some kind of time travel.\"\n\n\n \"I see. Have you read much science fiction, Mr. Turner?\"\n\n\n \"Some. I read a lot. All kinds of books. Tolstoi, Twain, Hemingway,\n Luke Short, John D. MacDonald, Huxley.\"\n\n\n \"You should\nread\nthem instead of live them. Catharsis. Sublimate, Mr.\n Turner. For instance, to a certain type of person, I often recommend\n the mysteries of Mickey Spillane.\"\n\n\n I seemed to be losing control of the conversation. \"But this time\n travel....\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Turner, do you really believe in 'time travel'?\"\n\n\n \"No.\"\n\n\n \"Then how can there be any such thing? It can't be real.\"\n\n\n \"I know that! I want to be cured of imagining it.\"\n\n\n \"The first step is to utterly renounce the idea. Stop thinking about\n the past. Think of the future.\"\n\n\n \"How did you know I keep slipping back into the past?\" I asked.\nSergeant's hands were more expressive than his face. \"You mentioned\n time travel....\"\n\n\n \"But not to the past or to the future,\" I said.\n\n\n \"But you did, Mr. Turner. You told me all about thinking you could go\n into the past by visiting a book store where they sold old magazines.\n You told me how the intrusion of the past got worse with every visit.\"\n\n\n I blinked. \"I did? I did?\"\n\n\n \"Of course.\"\n\n\n I stood up. \"I did not!\"\n\n\n \"Please try to keep from getting violent, Mr. Turner. People like you\n actually have more control over themselves than you realize. If you\nwill\nyourself to be calm....\"\n\n\n \"I\nknow\nI didn't tell you a thing about the Back Number Store. I'm\n starting to think I'm not crazy at all. You—you're trying to do\n something to me. You're all in it together.\"\n\n\n Sergeant shook his head sadly.\n\n\n I realized how it all sounded.\n\n\n \"Good—GOD!\" I moaned.\n\n\n I put my hands to my face and I felt the vein over my left eye\n swelling, pulsing.\n\n\n Through the bars of my fingers I saw Sergeant motion me down with one\n eloquent hand. I took my hands away—I didn't like looking through\n bars—and sat down.\n\n\n \"Now,\" Sergeant said, steepling his fingers, \"I know of a completely\n nice place in the country. Of course, if you respond properly....\"\n\n\n Those hands of his.\n\n\n There was something about them that wasn't so. They might have been the\n hands of a corpse, or a doll....\n\n\n I lurched across the desk and grabbed his wrist.\n\n\n \"\nPlease\n, Mr. Turner! violence will—\"\n\n\n My fingers clawed at the backs of his hands and my nails dragged off\n ugly strips of some theatrical stuff—collodion, I think—that had\n covered the scrapes and bruises he had taken hammering away at me and\n my belt buckle.\n\n\n Sergeant.\n\n\n Sarge.\n\n\n I let go of him and stood away.\n\n\n For the first time, Sergeant smiled.\n\n\n I backed to the door and turned the knob behind my back. It wouldn't\n open.\n\n\n I turned around and rattled it, pulled on it, braced my foot against\n the wall and tugged.\n\n\n \"Locked,\" Sergeant supplied.\n\n\n He was coming toward me, I could tell. I wheeled and faced him. He had\n a hypodermic needle. It was the smallest one I had ever seen and it had\n an iridescence or luminosity about it, a gleaming silver dart.\n\n\n I closed with him.\nBy the way he moved, I knew he was used to physical combat, but you\n can't win them all, and I had been in a lot of scraps when I had been\n younger. (Hadn't I?)\n\n\n I stepped in while he was trying to decide whether to use the hypo on\n me or drop it to have his hands free. I stiff-handed him in the solar\n plexus and crossed my fist into the hollow of the apex arch of his\n jawbone. He dropped.\n\n\n I gave him a kick at the base of his spine. He grunted and lay still.\n\n\n There was a rapping on the door. \"Doctor? Doctor?\"\n\n\n I searched through his pockets. He didn't have any keys. He didn't\n have any money or identification or a gun. He had a handkerchief and a\n ballpoint pen.\n\n\n The receptionist had moved away from the door and was talking to\n somebody, in person or on the phone or intercom.\n\n\n There wasn't any back door.\n\n\n I went to the window. The city stretched out in an impressive panorama.\n On the street below, traffic crawled. There was a ledge. Quite a wide,\n old-fashioned ornamental ledge.\n\n\n The ledge ran beneath the windows of all the offices on this floor. The\n fourteenth, I remembered.\n\n\n I had seen it done in movies all my life. Harold Lloyd, Douglas\n Fairbanks, Buster Keaton were always doing it for some reason or other.\n I had a good reason.\n\n\n I unlatched the window and climbed out into the dry, crisp breeze.\n\n\n The movies didn't know much about convection. The updraft nearly lifted\n me off the ledge, but the cornice was so wide I could keep out of the\n wind if I kept myself flat against the side of the building.\n\n\n The next window was about twenty feet away. I had covered half that\n distance, moving my feet with a sideways crab motion, when Carl,\n indisputably the second policeman, put his head out of the window\n where I was heading and pointed a .38 revolver at me, saying in a\n let's-have-no-foolishness tone: \"Get in here.\"\n\n\n I went the other way.\n\n\n The cool, lovely receptionist was in Sergeant's window with the tiny\n silver needle in readiness.\n\n\n I kept shuffling toward the girl. I had decided I would rather wrestle\n with her over the needle than fight Carl over the rod. Idiotically, I\n smiled at that idea.\n\n\n I slipped.\n\n\n I was falling down the fourteen stories without even a moment of\n windmilling for balance. I was just gone.\nLines were converging, and I was converging on the lines.\n\n\n You aren't going to be able to Immelmann out of this dive, Turner.\n Good-by, Turner.\n\n\n Death.\n\n\n A sleep, a reawakening, a lie. It's nothing like that. It's nothing.\n\n\n The end of everything you ever were or ever could be.\n\n\n I hit.\n\n\n My kneecap hurt like hell. I had scraped it badly.\n\n\n Reality was all over me in patches. I showed through as a line\n drawing, crudely done, a cartoon.\n\n\n Some kind of projection. High-test Cinerama, that was all reality meant.\n\n\n I was kneeling on a hard surface no more than six feet from the window\n from which I had fallen. It was still fourteen flights up, more or\n less, but\nDown\nwas broken and splattered over me.\n\n\n I stood up, moving forward a step.\n\n\n It brought me halfway through the screen, halfway through the wall at\n the base of the building. The other side of the screen. The solid side,\n I found, stepping through, bracing a hand on the image.\n\n\n Looking up fourteen floors, I saw an unbroken line of peacefully closed\n panes.\nI remembered riding up in the elevator, the moments inside, the faint\n feeling of vertigo. Of course, who was to say the elevator really\n moved? Maybe they had only switched scenery on me while I was caught\n inside, listening to the phony hum, seeing the flashing lights. Either\n cut down or increase the oxygen supply inside the cubicle suddenly and\n that would contribute a sensation of change, of movement. They had it\n all worked out.\n\n\n My fingers rubbed my head briskly, both hands working, trying to get\n some circulation in my brain.\n\n\n I guessed I had to run. There didn't seem much else to do.\n\n\n I ran.\n\n\n Get help?\n\n\n Not this old lady and her daughter. Not this Neanderthal sailor on his\n way to a bar and a blonde. Not the bookkeeper. Maybe the car salesman,\n ex-Army, Lions Club member, beefy, respectable, well-intentioned, not\n a complete fool. The guy on the corner reading a newspaper by the bus\n stop.\n\n\n \"I need help,\" I panted to him. \"Somebody's trying to kidnap me.\"\n\n\n \"Really makes you sick to hear about something like that, doesn't it?\"\n he said. \"I'm in favor of the Lindbergh Law myself.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not sure whether—\"\n\n\n \"This heat is murder, isn't it? Especially here in these concrete\n canyons. Sometimes I wish I was back in Springfield. Cool, shaded\n streets....\"\n\n\n \"Listen to me! These people, they're conspiring against me, trying to\n drive me insane! Two men, a girl—\"\n\n\n \"For my money, Marilyn Monroe is\nthe\ndoll of the world. I just don't\n understand these guys who say she hasn't got class. She gets class by\n satirizing girls without any....\"\n\n\n He was like anybody you might talk to on the street. I knew what he\n would say if I cued him with \"baseball\" or \"Russia\" instead of the key\n words I had used.\n\n\n I should have known better, but I wanted to touch him in some way, make\n him know I was alive. I grabbed him and shook him by the shoulders, and\n there was a whoosh and as I might have expected he collapsed like the\n insubstantiality he was.\n\n\n There was a stick figure of a man left before me, an economical\n skeleton supporting the shell of a human being and two-thirds of a\n two-trouser suit.\n\n\n Hide.\n\n\n I went into the first shop I came to—Milady's Personals.\n\n\n Appropriately, it was a false front.\n\n\n A neutral-colored gray surface, too smooth for concrete, stretched away\n into some shadows. The area was littered with trash.\n\n\n Cartons, bottles, what looked like the skin of a dehydrated human\n being—obviously, on second thought, only the discarded skin of one of\n the things like the one I had deflated.\n\n\n And a moldering pile of letters and papers.\n\n\n Something caught my eye and I kicked through them. Yes, the letter I\n had written to my brother in Sioux Falls, unopened.\nAnd which he had\n answered.\nMy work.\n\n\n The work I had done at the agency, important, creative work. There\n was my layout, the rough of the people with short, slim glasses, the\n parents, children, grandparents, the caption: Vodka is a Part of the\n American Tradition.\n\n\n All of it lying here to rot.\n\n\n Something made me look away from that terrible trash.\n\n\n Sergeant stood in the entrance of Milady's, something bright in his\n hand.\n\n\n Something happened.\n\n\n I had been wrong.\n\n\n The shining instrument had not been a hypodermic needle.\n\"You're tough,\" Sergeant said as I eased back into focus.\n\n\n \"You aren't, not without help,\" I told him in disgust.\n\n\n \"Spunky, aren't you? I meant mental toughness. That's the one thing\n we can never judge. I think you could have taken the shock right from\n the start. Of course, you would still have needed the conditioning to\n integrate properly.\"\n\n\n \"Conditioning? Conditioning?\" It came out of me, vortexing up, outside\n of my piloting. \"What have you done to my mind?\"\n\n\n \"We've been trying to get it to grow back up,\" Sergeant said\n reasonably. \"Think of this. Fountain of Youth. Immortality.\n Rejuvenation. This is it. Never mind how it works. Most minds can't\n stand being young and knowing they will have to go through the same\n damned thing all over again. We use synapse-shift to switch your upper\n conscious memories to your id and super-ego, leaving room for new\n memories. You remember only those things out of the past you\nhave\nto,\n to retain your identity.\"\n\n\n \"Identity,\" I repeated. \"I have no identity. My identity is a dream. I\n have two identities—one of them years beyond the other.\"\n\n\n Sergeant tilted his head and his eyes at me and slapped me across the\n face. \"Don't go back on me now. We gave you the best we could. The\n Rejuvenation Service couldn't help it if you were too old for a\nbeta\n.\n You shouldn't have waited until you were so old, so very old. We used\n the very oldest sets and mock-ups we had for\nbetas\n, but you, you had\n to keep wandering onto\nalpha\nterritory, while they were striking\n sets, even.\nBeta\nor not, we gave you good service. Don't slip now.\"\n\n\n I heard the voice and I heard another voice, and it said \"What could\n you expect of a\nbeta\n?\" and they were only some of the voices I was\n hearing, and I wondered what you could expect from a\nbeta\n, and I\n didn't know, or think that I would ever know.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which of the following comparisons to cravings does the shop owner make when referring to the main character's affinity for air-war pulp magazines?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_1", "options": ["narcotics", "horror novels", "cigarettes", "pornography"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What conclusion does the protagonist come to after his encounter with the police?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_2", "options": ["He must pursue his nostalgic urges and return to the book store to replace the magazines.", "The police officers are also time travelers from WW1.", "He needs to avoid carrying around pornography", "His memories are untrue and cannot be trusted"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is the protagonist confused by his memories of fighting in WWI?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_3", "options": ["Because he stayed home instead of fighting during WWI", "Because he should not have been born during WWI", "Because WWI was happening currently", "Because he was too old to fight during WWI "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What ends up being the cause of the protagonist's issues?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_4", "options": ["Drug addiction", "War-related trauma", "Secretive experiments", "Mental illness"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the protagonist have more than one set of memories?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_5", "options": ["He has traveled back and forth through time ", "His memories are being moved in his brain to make room for new ones", "He is not taking his medication for his mental illness", "He has a portion of another persons brain"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the protaganists most recent profession?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_6", "options": ["A police officer", "A creative at an advertising agency", "A pilot in World War One", "A psychiatrist "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the protaganists reaction to falling from the fourteenth floor?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_7", "options": ["He was injured and unable to move", "He fled the scene", "He asked the police for help", "He returned to the fourteenth floor to try again"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the police officers initially pick up the protagonist for?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_8", "options": ["Reckless driving", "Possession of pornography", "Drunk and disorderly conduct", "Jaywalking"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was the main character daydreaming about being a war-time pilot?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_9", "options": ["He was obsessed with magazines about the subject", "He was triggered by the old shopkeeper asking him about it", "He was actually there and the memories were real", "He kept seeing old movies about World War One"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the shopkeeper think would make people stop looking at his magazines?", "question_unique_id": "51688_J2Q3XCWR_10", "options": ["If he got a radio for the store", "If he raised the prices ", "If he started carrying more comic books", "If he moved his television to the front of the store"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/6/8/51688//51688-h//51688-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20075", "set_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Slate", "title": "Kick Me", "year": "1999", "author": "Eliza Truitt", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Kick Me \n\n         Not long ago, out of curiosity, I picked up some exercise videos by Billy Blanks, the king of Tae-Bo. What a flop. The sets were cheesy, the music was awful 1980s synth-pop, and despite their martial-arts pretensions, the routines felt more like aerobics in disguise than like kung fu. But after flailing away in my living room for a few nights, my interest was piqued, and I decided to find out more about the real thing. Which martial art teaches good self-defense tactics? Which one would give me a good aerobic workout? How daunting would it be to jump into a class as a complete beginner? And would I get pummeled by the other students? \n\n         To find out, I tried a handful of karate, tae kwon do, aikido, jujitsu, and kung fu classes in the Seattle area. I scored each one in several areas: how intimidating the class would be to a novice; how much the exercises worked my muscles; how much of an I got; whether it would develop coordination and balance; how much physical contact with other people was involved; and, of course, its value in self-defense. All ratings are on a scale of one to five, with five being the hardest, most intimidating, or most valuable. \n\n         To experts, this will look like a hopelessly biased and superficial inquiry. It is. But to beginners, it is one step toward figuring out which martial art might be right for you. Do you want a chance to kick the stuffing out of someone? Take tae kwon do. Do you want to improve your sense of balance? Take karate. Do you want to know what to do if someone tries to choke you? Take jujitsu. Just remember that if you're jumped by a mugger, the only thing Tae-Bo will be good for is making your attacker collapse into uncontrollable fits of laughter. \n\n          \n\n            Kung Fu              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: 1960s martial arts movies; Bruce Lee. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 4              \n\n         In the all-levels group I observed at Seven Star Women's Kung Fu, there were a dozen or so women dressed completely in black. (Most classes I took were co-ed.) The school wouldn't let me take the class--I could only watch--but that was better than Temple Kung Fu, which made me sit for an interview before they'd even reveal any information on their classes. There seemed to be an active screening process to keep out those with only a casual interest. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 3              \n\n         After meditating for a few minutes, students launched into traditional strengthening exercises (push-ups and sit-ups) and then broke into pairs, with one person kicking pads held by the other. It looked to be decent strength training. Their arms got a good workout from the push-ups and punching; abs, from the sit-ups; and the lower body, from the kicking. It was not extreme, and nobody seemed exhausted. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 2              \n\n         After the strength work and partner work, the class broke into a few groups (according to skill level) and repeated choreographed routines called \"kata ,\" which involve a series of punches, kicks, and blocks with an imaginary foe. The class had broken into a light sweat, but was not gasping for air. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance:                 4              \n\n         The rounded slinky movements of the dancelike kata looked specifically designed to develop grace, coordination, and balance. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 1              \n\n         Almost none. No direct body-to-body contact, but plenty of punching and kicking with pads. \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 2              \n\n         The moves were neat to look at, but they did not seem practical. And without sparring practice, it would be difficult to apply the drills in real life. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: Kicking, punching, and an aura of mystery. \n\n          \n\n            Tae Kwon Do              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: World's most popular martial art, new Olympic sport; lots of kicking; the martial art of the 1990s. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 1              \n\n         I was instantly welcomed into the beginners class at Lee's Martial Arts. People called each other by their first name; there was laughing, joking, and none of the aloofness or self-importance of the kung fu class. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 3              \n\n         This rating is a little misleading. The lower-body strength workout was fantastic--my legs and hips were sore for days--but there was almost no strength training for the upper body. We used our arms only for balance and blocking kicks. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 5              \n\n         We began with everyone standing in lines and kicking into the air. Then we did a long series of running drills up and down the mats. Then there was more kicking: Turning kicks, straight kicks, low kicks, kicks with punching bags, kicks with partners … the list goes on. It was an excellent workout. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 4              \n\n         Learning how to make contact with the pad (and not, say, the face of the person holding it) was important. Balance was crucial in the sparring. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 4              \n\n         At the end of class came a session of sparring (which I, alas, was not allowed to participate in). The students strapped on protective chest pads and helmets and began kicking the stuffing out of each other. \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 4              \n\n         Tae kwon do emphasizes sparring and gets students accustomed to dealing with an assault. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: More a sport than an art; will make short work of flabby legs. \n\n          \n\n            Karate              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: Ralph Macchio in The                 Karate Kid ; the martial art of the 1980s. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 1              \n\n         When I watched a class at the Feminist Karate Union, I asked some of the students how their class was different from the Seven Star Women's Kung Fu class, which is held in the same building. One woman immediately said, \"Oh, kung fu? That's what the mean people downstairs do.\" This class was approachable and open. And karate's so familiar that you feel like you already know how to do it. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 2              \n\n         We started with sit-ups and push-ups, which were the most demanding parts of the class. The kicking and punching made for decent exercise, but I wasn't aching the next day. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 3              \n\n         The drills (lots of punches, blocking, and kicking) provided some aerobic workout, but were not particularly intense. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 4              \n\n         Keeping yourself centered while kicking and punching develops your balance. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 2              \n\n         There was some contact in the paired kicking drills with a partner and pads, but most of the physical contact came during the sparring. Yet this was nothing like the tae kwon do sparring: They weren't clocking each other, just repeating the motions of punching and blocking over and over again. \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 2              \n\n         This was entirely focused on form; no full-force contact between students. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: Kicks and punches galore, with a dash of moral and spiritual teaching about self-discipline and obedience. \n\n          \n\n            Aikido              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: A greasy-haired Steven Seagal incapacitating the enemy in Under Siege . \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 1              \n\n         Despite its reputation, aikido is decidedly nonaggressive--it's about deflecting punches and immobilizing your attacker--and there was a mellow, pleasantly upbeat atmosphere to the class. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 3              \n\n         No sit-ups or push-ups, but pulling and yanking on other people looked like it would build muscle, and the rolls worked on your abs. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 2              \n\n         There was little aerobic work, save for the rolling on the mats (which may explain Seagal's ever-increasing flabbiness). \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 5              \n\n         The goal is to destabilize and control the other guy, so maintaining your balance--and learning to topple your opponent--is crucial. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 4              \n\n         To complete the partner exercises, you had to grab your partner, spin him this way and that, and generally come in very close contact. \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 5              \n\n         Learning how to neutralize a threat was the main goal of the class. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: You don't get to land any punches and it's noncompetitive, but you'll learn how to knock people over. \n\n          \n\n            Tai Chi              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: What those slow-moving people in the park are doing; martial arts for seniors. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 1              \n\n         I found its New Age connections slightly off-putting, but it looks so easy to do that it wasn't daunting. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 2              \n\n         While my heart didn't get pumping, the slow, controlled movements did give my arms, legs, back, and stomach a good resistance workout. You may just be working against gravity, but holding your arms up in the air for several minutes will give you a new appreciation for those slow-moving people in the park. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 0              \n\n         Tai chi involves moving your body slowly in circular patterns, shifting weight from foot to foot, and lifting your arms in rounded gestures, all at a pace slower than you ever thought possible. The motions had names like \"parting the wild horse's mane\" and \"repulsing the monkey.\" I did not break a sweat, but I was bored to tears. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 4              \n\n         Balance and control of your body position are the heart of this art. \n\n          \n\n            Degree of Contact: 0              \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 0              \n\n         I learned how to repulse a monkey, not a person. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: A yawner, slightly embarrassing to perform, but I'm sure if done correctly it brings high-quality inner peace. \n\n          \n\n            Brazilian Jujitsu              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: For hurting people. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 5              \n\n         Although the listing in the phone book advertised the \"Brazilian Jiu Jitsu Academy,\" the sign on the door said \"Northwest Fight Club.\" Inside the club, huge holes had been punched in the walls--some back-size, some fist-size. Huge letters painted on the wall said \"TRAIN & FIGHT HARD.\" The instructor, a handsome young Brazilian man, had a long scar curling out from the left side of his mouth and a fresh-looking purple one by his left eye. When I asked to try the class, he shrugged and lent me a gi (the white outfit most martial artists wear), on the back of which was a drawing of massive snarling pit bull and the slogan \"PIT PULLING PURE POWER.\" I wondered if I was going to need an ambulance to take me home. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 5              \n\n         The next day every inch of my body was sore--my stomach, arms, legs, feet, and neck. For Olympians only. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 5              \n\n         This ranks as one of the hardest and most complete workouts I've ever had. After some stretching, we launched directly into hundreds of lightning-fast sit-ups, crunches, push-ups, leg lifts, and scissor kicks. I was quickly panting and my face turned a deep fuchsia. We did forward and backward rolls, learned to escape from various holds, and executed the sort of belly-crawl that marines always seem to be doing in movies about basic training. After an hour and a half I felt close to death, but there was still another hour to go. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 2              \n\n         Coordination is important, but since you're tussling on a mat most of the time, balance isn't. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 5              \n\n         After drills, the instructor paired me with Isabella for partner work. He demonstrated how to get Isabella into choke-holds and leg-locks, as well as how to escape from them. We practiced on each other. It was a little unnerving to be choking Isabella so soon after meeting her, but she didn't seem to mind. I learned how to go from sitting on top of her with a knee in her stomach to a position where her arm was between my legs and I could break it over my stomach. The end of the class was spent with full-on grappling. Getting your face mashed into someone's armpit was de rigueur . \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 5              \n\n         Jujitsu's few-holds-barred grappling is far more effective when push comes to shove (and worse) than standing arts such as karate. \n\n                         Overall: Lots of grappling, throwing, and choking. Pragmatic, not pretty. High badass quotient.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was the author's initial motivation for writing the comparison list?", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_1", "options": ["She wanted to gain more balance and coordination", "She wanted to get stronger", "Wanting to find a better over all martial art than Tae-Bo", "She wanted to get into better aerobic shape"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the author's experience level when writing the article?", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_2", "options": ["Novice", "No Experience", "Intermediate", "Master"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What other value for scoring the martial arts most highly correlated with the \"Self-Defense\" value", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_3", "options": ["Intimidation ", "Degree of Contact", "Coordination and Balance", "Aerobic Workout"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0043", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which martial art on the list received the least scores overall?", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_4", "options": ["Jujistui ", "Karate", "Tai Chi", "Tae Kwon Do"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which martial art did the author think was the hardest workout?", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_5", "options": ["Tae Kwon Do", "Kung Fu", "Jujistui", "Karate"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the author choose to score each martial art for \"intimidation?\"", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_6", "options": ["By how sore she was after each class", "By how often the participants in the class were hurt", "By how large the participants in the class were", "By how welcoming the class was"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What martial art does the author think is best overall?", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_7", "options": ["Jujistui", "Tae kwon do", "Karate", "Different martial arts for different purposes"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was unusual the author about the Kung Fu class?", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_8", "options": ["It was easier than expected", "She had to undergo an interview for the class she went to o ", "It was an all women's class instead of women and men", "It was more intimidating than expected"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a quality included in each of the martial art descriptions that was not mentioned in the introductory paragraphs?", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_9", "options": ["Coordination and balance", "Degree-of-contact", "Reputation", "Intimidation"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author think that Akido could explain why Steven Seagal is not in good shape?", "question_unique_id": "20075_99U79EV3_10", "options": ["It does not need to be practiced often", "It is not a good self-defense martial art", "There is little aerobic exercise involved", "It is a non-aggressive martial art"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20073", "set_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Slate", "title": " I, Antichrist?", "year": "1999", "author": "Jeffrey Goldberg", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "I, Antichrist? \n\n         Early one shiny autumn morning, I got in my car and drove to Lynchburg, Va., in order to find out whether or not I am the Antichrist. You know: the Beast, the Worthless Shepherd, the Little Horn, the Abomination, the linchpin of the Diabolical Trinity. That Antichrist. \n\n         I had my suspicions. Nowhere on my body could I find the mark of the Beast--666--but I do have a freckle that's shaped like Bermuda. And though I have never been seized by a desire to lead the armies of Satan in a final, bloody confrontation with the forces of God on the plain of Armageddon, I do suffer from aggravated dyspepsia, as well as chronic malaise, conditions that I'm sure afflict the Antichrist. \n\n         The surest suspicion I had about my pivotal role in Christian eschatology grew from the fact that I am Jewish, male, and alive. These are the qualifications for the job of Antichrist as specified by Lynchburg's most famous preacher, Jerry Falwell, in a speech he made earlier this year. \n\n         I was actually going to see the Rev. Falwell on a different matter, the future of Jerusalem, but I thought I might just slip this question--the one about me maybe being the Antichrist--into the stream of the interview. Falwell, I guessed, wouldn't be happy to discuss his views on the identity of the Antichrist--he had apologized for the remark but took quite a load of grief for it anyway. \n\n         As it turned out, though, Falwell was eager to talk about the Antichrist. And, as it also turned out, he didn't really feel bad for saying what he said. In fact, he was more convinced than ever that the Antichrist is a Jew who walks among us. \n\n         Let me pause for a moment to give three concise reasons why I'm so curious about the identity of the Antichrist: \n\n         1) I think I speak for all the approximately 4.5 million adult male Jews in the world when I say that we get a little antsy when Christians start looking at us like we're the devil. This is on account of Christian behavior over the past 2,000 years, by which I mean blood libels and pogroms and inquisitions, those sorts of things. \n\n         2) I've always been possessed by the delusional notion that I am to play a major role in world history, so why not a role in the End of Days? And I don't mean the Schwarzenegger movie. \n\n         3) Now that we stand on the lip of the millennium, much of the evangelical Christian world is in the grip of Armageddon fever, and, according to the evangelical interpretation of the books of Daniel and Revelation, the Antichrist will make his appearance before Christ makes his, and his is looking kinda imminent. The Antichrist, in this reading, will be a world leader who strikes a peace deal with Israel, only to betray the Jewish state and make war on it, until Jesus comes to the rescue. The thankful Jews, those who are still alive, will then become Christians and live happily ever after. These beliefs, held by tens of millions of Christians are, journalistically speaking, worthy of note. \n\n         The day before my visit with the Rev. Falwell, I had just finished reading a novelistic treatment of these events, Assassins , which is subtitled Assignment: Jerusalem, Target: Antichrist . Assassins is the sixth book in the \"Left Behind\" series, \"left behind\" referring to those unfortunate nonevangelical Christians who are not taken up to heaven in the Rapture--the opening act in God's end days plan--and are forced to contend with the Antichrist's evil reign on Earth. The \"Left Behind\" series, co-written by Tim LaHaye, the prominent right-wing screwball and husband of Beverly LaHaye, the even more prominent right-wing screwball, and Jerry B. Jenkins, who, his biography states, is the author of 130 books, which is a lot of books for one guy to write, is a phenomenon. Ten million copies of the series have sold already--hundreds in my local PriceClub alone. \"Left Behind\" is the Harry Potter of the Armageddon set. \n\n         The notable thing for me about the \"Left Behind\" series--beside the fact that few in the secular media have noticed that millions of Americans are busy reading books warning about the imminence of one-world government, mass death, and the return of the Messiah, is that all the Jewish characters are Christian. LaHaye and Jenkins are both active participants in the absurd and feverish campaign by some evangelical Christians to redefine Judaism in a way that allows for belief in Jesus. \n\n         Jews (and again, I feel comfortable speaking for all of us here) find this sort of Christian imperialism just a wee bit offensive. Just imagine if Jews began an official campaign calling Muhammad irrelevant to Islam--can you imagine the fatwas that would produce? \n\n         But evangelical leaders, who are, in my experience, uniformly kind and generous in their personal relations, can also be terribly obnoxious in their relations with Jews. \n\n         There is only one road to salvation for Jews, and that road runs through Jesus, LaHaye told me. To his credit, though, LaHaye doesn't believe that the Antichrist will be Jewish. He will be a European gentile, who will kill lots of Jews. \"The Jews will be forced to accept the idolatry of the Antichrist or be beheaded,\" he said. This will take place during the seven-year Tribulation. \n\n         Jewish suffering, though, is divinely ordained. Even though the Antichrist will not be Jewish, Jews are still capable of great evil and have often been punished for their evil, LaHaye explained. \"Some of the greatest evil in the history of the world was concocted in the Jewish mind,\" LaHaye told me, for reasons that aren't entirely clear--he knew what the name \"Goldberg\" generally signifies. \"Sigmund Freud, Marx, these were Jewish minds that were infected with atheism.\" \n\n         I asked LaHaye to tell me more about the Jewish mind. \n\n         \"The Jewish brain also has the capacity for great good,\" he explained. \"God gave the Jews great intelligence. He didn't give them great size or physical power--you don't see too many Jews in the NFL--but he gave them great minds.\" \n\n         Of all the evangelical leaders I have interviewed, LaHaye is capable of some of the most anti-Semitic utterances, which is troublesome, because he is also the most popular author in the evangelical world. \n\n         The Rev. Falwell is smoother than LaHaye. He acknowledges \"where the sensitivity comes from,\" though he shows no understanding of the role the myth of the Antichrist played in the history of anti-Semitism, and he refuses to back away from his opinion that somewhere in Great Neck or West L.A. or Shaker Heights is living Satan's agent. \n\n         \"In my opinion,\" he told me, \"the Antichrist will be a counterfeit of the true Christ, which means that he will be male and Jewish, since Jesus was male and Jewish.\" \n\n         I asked him if he understood that such statements strip Jews of their humanity, which is the first step anti-Semites take before they kill them. He responded, \"All the Jewish people we do business with on a daily basis, not one has ever got upset over this.\" It is not Jews who picked this most recent fight, he said, it is supporters of President Clinton. \n\n         \"Billy Graham made the same statement a dozen times last year, but there was no comment about that,\" Falwell said. \"But Billy Graham was not calling for the resignation of the president.\" Falwell, you'll recall, is no fan of Clinton's; he has even peddled a video accusing the president of murder. \n\n         Falwell is right: Evangelical preachers are constantly accusing the Jews of harboring the Antichrist. \n\n         I asked Falwell if he knew the actual identity of the Antichrist. No, he said. \"People might say, it's a certain person, it's Henry Kissinger, like that, but the Lord does not let us know that.\" \n\n         So there's a chance, then, that I'm the Antichrist? \n\n         Falwell chuckled a condescending chuckle. \"It's almost amusing, that question. Of course not. I know that you're not.\" \n\n         Why? \n\n         \"The Antichrist will be a world leader, he'll have supernatural powers,\" he said. \n\n         He got me there--I have no supernatural powers. I can't even drive a stick shift. \n\n         I pressed him further on the identity of the Antichrist, but Falwell wouldn't play. \"We'll know the Antichrist when he arrives,\" he said. \n\n         Most evangelical leaders, in fact, refuse to publicly guess the name of the Antichrist--though, as Falwell suggests, Kissinger is a perennial favorite, at least among those evangelicals who believe the Antichrist will be Jewish. For most of their history, Christian leaders had been content to ascribe the characteristics of the Antichrist to the Jewish people as a whole. \"Ever since the 2 nd century CE, the very beginning of the Antichrist legend, Christians have associated Jews with everything unholy,\" Andrew Gow, who teaches Christian history at the University of Alberta, told me. In the minds of early Christian leaders, the church was the new Israel; God's covenant with the Jews was obsolete. Therefore, the Jews who remained on Earth were there to serve devilish purposes, Gow explained. \n\n         There are plenty of evangelical thinkers who differ with Falwell, who believe, like LaHaye, that the Antichrist will be a gentile who rises out of Europe. \"The Antichrist is supposed to make a peace treaty with Israel,\" Ed Hindson, the author of Is the Antichrist Alive and Well? , explained. \"Why would a Jew make a peace treaty with a Jewish state?\" \n\n         Hindson suggested that Satan will make the Antichrist the leader of the European Union--the revived Roman Empire, eternal enemy of Israel--though Hindson disputed one popular idea advocated by Monte Judah, an Oklahoma-based prophecy-teacher, that Prince Charles is the Antichrist. \n\n         \"There's no way Prince Charles is the Antichrist,\" Hindson said. \"Satan can do better than that.\" \n\n         In his book, Hindson runs through a list of potential candidates. Bill Clinton is there, of course, as well as Saddam Hussein and Ronald Wilson Reagan (six letters in each of his three names. Get it?). \n\n         Of course, none of these men are gay. \n\n         \"It says in the Bible that the Antichrist will have 'no regard for women,' and so many evangelicals interpret that to mean that he will be a homosexual,\" Hindson said, though he added that he's not entirely convinced. \n\n         This idea--the Antichrist as gay--strikes a chord with many evangelicals, just as the idea that the Antichrist is Jewish strikes a chord. \n\n         I gradually came to see how far-fetched it was to think that I might be the Antichrist. I'm not gay, I'm not famous, I wouldn't know a euro if I found one in my wallet. \n\n         Then it struck me: Barry Diller is the Antichrist. \n\n         There's no way to know for sure. But if you wake up one morning to read that Barry Diller is the head of the European Union (and that David Geffen is his deputy), well, remember where you read it first.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does the author believe he might be the Antichrist?", "question_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3_1", "options": ["He has a strangely shaped mole on his body", "He was told so by a famous evangelical preacher", "It is a satirical response to the evangelical myth", "Each of his names has six letters"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What surprised the author about his conversation with Rev. Falwell", "question_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3_2", "options": ["Falwell was excited to talk about the Antichrist", "Falwell refused to talk the to author", "Falwell only wanted to talk about the future of Jerusalem", "Falwell showed remorse for some of his beliefs"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the author referencing when they say Christian imperialism?", "question_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3_3", "options": ["The attempt to change Judaism to include Jesus as messiah", "The attempt to include Muhammad", "The New World being colonized by Christians", "The crusades and other violent acts of Christians"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What effect does the author believe the Antichrist myth has on Judaism as a whole?", "question_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3_4", "options": ["It is fuel for antisemitism", "It is unimportant ", "It sheds a good light on modern day Jews", "It brings attention to the plight of the Jewish people"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the most problematic aspect about LaHaye's antisemitism?", "question_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3_5", "options": ["It is blatant and outspoken", "He draws on historical literature from Judaism", "He is one of the best-selling Christian authors", "It is thinly veiled in confusing language"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why doesn't Falwell believe that the author could be the Antichrist?", "question_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3_6", "options": ["The author is not evil", "The Antichrist would not have any doubts", "The author is not a world leader", "The author is not Jewish"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why do some evangelical authors believe that the Antichrist will not be Jewish?", "question_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3_7", "options": ["They believe that the Antichrist is Henry Kissinger", "It is thought that the Antichrist will make an agreement with Israel, which would be more likely by a gentile", "They think that the Antichrist will be a United States President", "It is believed that the Antichrist will not come until after the upcoming turn of the century"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does LaHaye believe that Jewish suffering is deserved?", "question_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3_8", "options": ["He believes that Antichrist will almost certainly be Jewish", "The actions of certain atheist Jews historically", "It was prophesied in the Bible ", "They are counterfeit of the true Christ"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is implied at the end of the passage by the author about Barry Diller?", "question_unique_id": "20073_3CP51ZI3_9", "options": ["That he is Jewish, gay, and famous", "That he believes that Antichrist has come", "That he will be a world leader some day", "That he is an anti-semite"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "51256", "set_unique_id": "51256_P2M1I2KR", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Cool War", "year": 1971, "author": "Fetler, Andrew", "topic": "Spy stories; Cold War -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "THE COOL WAR\nby ANDREW FETLER\n\n\n Illustrated by NODEL\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction June 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHere's what happens when two Master\n \nSpies tangle ... and stay that way!\n\"Nothing, nothing to get upset about,\" Pashkov said soothingly, taking\n his friend's arm as they came out of the villa forty miles from Moscow.\n Pashkov looked like a roly-poly zoo attendant leading a tame bear.\n \"Erase his memory, give him a new name and feed him more patriotism.\n Very simple.\"\n\n\n Medvedev raised his hand threateningly. \"Don't come howling to me if\n everybody guesses he is nothing but a robot.\"\n\n\n Pashkov glanced back at the house. Since the publication of\nDentist\n Amigovitch\n, this house had become known all over the world as Boris\n Knackenpast's villa. Now the house was guarded by a company of\n soldiers to keep visitors out. From an open window Pashkov heard the\n clicking of a typewriter.\n\n\n \"It's when they're not like robots that everybody suspects them,\" he\n said, climbing into his flier. \"Petchareff will send you word when to\n announce his 'death'.\"\n\n\n \"A question, brother.\"\n\n\n \"No questions.\"\n\n\n \"Who smuggled the manuscript out of Russia?\"\n\n\n Pashkov frowned convincingly. \"Comrade Petchareff has suspected even\n me.\"\n\n\n He took off for Moscow, poking his flier up through the clouds and\n flying close to them, as was his habit. Then he switched on the radio\n and got Petchareff's secretary. \"Nadezhda?\"\n\n\n \"I know what you're up to, Seven One Three,\" Nadezhda Brunhildova said.\n \"Don't try to fool\nme\n, you confidence man. You are coming in?\"\n\n\n \"In ten minutes. What have I done now?\"\n\n\n \"You were supposed to make funeral arrangements for Knackenpast, so\n what are you doing in Stockholm?\"\n\n\n \"Stockholm?\"\n\n\n \"You're lying and I'll kill you. Don't you think I know about Anastina,\n that she-nurse in the Stockholm National Hospital?\"\n\n\n \"Darling, why so cruel? Anastina is one of our contacts. Besides, she's\n cross-eyed and buck-toothed.\"\n\n\n \"Beast!\" She switched him to Petchareff.\n\n\n \"What's been keeping you, Pashkov?\"\n\n\n \"Consoling Medvedev. Am I supposed to be in Stockholm?\"\n\n\n \"Never mind, get here at once. What size hospital gown do you wear?\"\n\n\n \"Hospital gown?\"\n\n\n \"Stockholm embassy says you're in the National Hospital there. In a\n hospital gown. I got through to Anastina. She says it's Colonel James\n again. He looks like you now.\"\n\n\n Pashkov grunted.\n\n\n \"I'll never understand,\" said Petchareff, \"why all top secret agents\n have to look like bankers. Anastina says Colonel James was operated on\n by a Monsieur Fanti. What do you know about him?\"\n\n\n \"He's a theatrical surgeon.\"\n\n\n \"You're not playing one of your jokes, Pashkov?\"\n\n\n \"Hardly.\"\n\n\n \"You'd better be in my office in ten minutes. What size hospital gown?\"\n\n\n \"Short and fat,\" Pashkov said, and switched off.\n\n\n Most countries wanted to break his neck, and his own Motherland did not\n always trust him. But he enjoyed his work—enjoyed it as much as his\n closest professional rival, Colonel James, U.S.A.\nPashkov landed on the roof of Intelligence in the northeast corner of\n the Kremlin, hitched up his pants and rode down.\n\n\n In his office, Petchareff removed the cigar from his mouth as Pashkov\n came in. \"Medvedev get my orders?\"\n\n\n \"He's preparing a new super-patriotic writer to replace Boris\n Knackenpast,\" Pashkov reported. \"When you give the word, he will call\nIzvestia\nand tell them Boris is dead.\"\n\n\n Petchareff glanced at his calendar. \"We have two other state funerals\n this week. You made it plain, I hope, we want no repetition of\n Knackenpast's peace nonsense?\"\n\n\n \"No more Gandhi or Schweitzer influences. The new literature,\" Pashkov\n promised, raising a chubby finger, \"will be a pearl necklace of\n government slogans.\"\n\n\n Nadezhda buzzed the intercom. \"The man from the Bolshoi Theater is\n here, Comrade.\"\n\n\n \"Send him in.\"\n\n\n A small man hurried into the room. He had a narrow face and the\n mustache of a mouse and a mousy nose, but his eyes were big rabbit\n eyes. He bowed twice quickly, placed a package on the desk with\n trembling forepaws and bowed twice again.\n\n\n Petchareff tore open the package. \"You got the real thing? No bad\n imitation?\"\n\n\n \"Exactly, exactly,\" the mouse piped. \"No difference, Comrade.\" He held\n his paws as in prayer and his pointed mouth quivered.\n\n\n Petchareff held up the hospital gown. On the back of the gown was\n printed in indelible ink:\nstockholm national hospital\n\n courtesy of\n\n Coca-Cola\n\n\n Petchareff tossed the gown to Pashkov. \"This is what Colonel James is\n wearing,\" he said, dismissing the mouse, who bowed twice and scurried\n out.\n\n\n \"Try and split the allies,\" Pashkov muttered, reading the legend on the\n gown.\n\n\n Petchareff blew cigar smoke in his face. \"If Colonel James makes a\n monkey of you once more, you're through, Pashkov. You don't take your\n job seriously enough. You bungle this and I'll have you transferred to\n our Cultural Information Center in Chicago.\"\n\n\n Pashkov winced.\n\n\n \"Now, you'll go to Stockholm and switch places with the American\n colonel and find out what they're up to. Zubov's kidnaping team is\n there already, at Hotel Reisen. Any questions?\"\n\n\n \"I thought Zubov was a zoological warfare expert. What is he doing with\n a kidnaping team?\"\n\n\n \"His team is more agile. On your way.\"\n\n\n In the front office, Pashkov stopped to kiss Nadezhda Brunhildova\n goodby. \"I may not return from this dangerous mission. Give me a tender\n kiss.\"\n\n\n Nadezhda was a big girl with hefty arms, captain of her local broom\n brigade. \"Monster!\" She seized him by the collar. \"Is Anastina\n dangerous?\"\n\n\n \"Darling!\"\n\n\n \"Bitter sweetness!\" she howled, dropping him. \"Go, love. Make me\n miserable.\"\nPashkov spent an hour at Central Intelligence. Nothing unusual going on\n in Stockholm: an industrial exhibit, the Swedish Academy in session,\n a sociology seminar on prison reform, a forty-man trade mission from\n India.\n\n\n An addendum to the Stockholm file listed two Cuban agents operating\n from Fralsningsarmen's Economy Lodgings. They were buying small arms\n and ammunition. He thought a moment, impressed the Cubans' address on\n his memory, and went to his flier.\n\n\n He did not fly to Hotel Reisen at once. Zubov's kidnaping team could\n wait. Coming slowly over Stockholm he spotted the National Hospital and\n circled.\n\n\n A line of ambulance fliers was parked on the ground in the ambulance\n court. On the hospital roof, he noticed, apart from private fliers,\n stood a flier that resembled his own.\n\n\n He veered away, detoured around Riddarholmen, and five minutes later\n landed on the roof of Fralsningsarmen's Economy Lodgings—the Salvation\n Army flophouse.\n\n\n \"My Cuban friends,\" Pashkov inquired in fluent English at the desk on\n the top floor. \"Are they in?\"\n\n\n The old desk clerk looked like a stork. \"Yu, room six fifteen,\" he\n clacked. \"Tree floors down. Aer yu Amerikan?\"\n\n\n \"Brazil.\"\n\n\n \"Ah so? You sprikker goot Inglish laik me.\"\n\n\n \"Very kind of you.\"\n\n\n He rode down three floors, found room 615, and stopped as he heard\n voices within.\n\n\n \"...\ndos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis, siete\n. By seven o'clock tonight,\n okay, Gringo?\"\n\n\n \"What do you expect for seven thousand bucks—service? Look, boys, I'm\n just a honest businessman. I can't get it for you today. Have a seegar,\n Pablo.\"\n\n\n \"Tfu!\"\n\n\n \"All rightie, your cause is my cause. Maybe I can get it for you\n tonight. But you'll have to pay in advance. What do you say, Francisco?\"\n\n\n \"I counted the money. It is waiting for you. You deliver, we pay.\"\n\n\n \"But how can I trust you? I like you boys, I know you like me, but\n business is business. I gotta give something to my jobber, don't I?\"\n\n\n \"Gringo!\"\n\n\n At that moment Pashkov knocked on the door.\n\n\n From within: \"Shh!\nAlguien llama a la puerta.\n\"\n\n\n Pashkov knocked again and a scuffle ensued within, the crack of a chair\n on a skull, the dragging of a beefy body into a closet, and the slam\n of the closet door.\n\n\n \"\nYu?\n\"\n\n\n \"\nBuenas tardes\n,\" Pashkov said through the door. \"\nAsuntos muy\n importantes.\n\"\n\n\n The door opened a crack and two dark eyes in a young bearded face\n peered out. \"Eh?\"\n\n\n \"\nGospodin Pashkov, para servir a usted.\n\"\n\n\n The door opened enough to admit the roly-poly visitor into the room.\n The other Cuban, also bearded and wearing a fatigue cap, held a\n revolver.\n\n\n \"No gun-play, caballeros,\" Pashkov went on in Spanish. \"We are in the\n Salvation Army charity house, not in a two-peso thriller. Besides, I\n deliver before I ask payment.\"\n\n\n \"Deliver what, senor?\"\n\n\n \"We favor any disturbance close to the United States. May I sit down?\"\n\n\n Between two beds were stacked some dozen crates of explosives. A small\n table was littered with papers.\n\n\n Sitting down at the table, Pashkov's elbow rested on an invoice, and\n moments later the invoice was tucked in his pocket.\n\n\n \"What kind of ammunition do you need, caballeros?\"\n\n\n The Cubans looked at each other. \"Thirty-o-six caliber, two-twenty\n grain. How much can you deliver?\"\n\n\n \"Two thousand rounds.\"\n\n\n \"Not much.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe three thousand. I'll toss in a box of hand grenades and a can of\n lysergic acid diethylamide.\"\n\n\n \"You have that? You have LSD-25?\"\n\n\n \"I have that. When are you leaving Stockholm?\"\n\n\n Again the young beards exchanged looks. \"Maybe we stay till tomorrow\n if you have more business. Three thousand rounds is not much. How much\n payment, senor?\"\n\n\n \"Two thousand kronor,\" Pashkov said, taking an envelope on the table\n and addressing it to Nadezhda Brunhildova, Kremlin, Moscow. No return\n address.\n\n\n \"Do you trust us to send the money?\"\n\n\n \"It is bad for you if I do not trust you,\" Pashkov said, smiling up at\n them.\n\n\n \"You can trust us. We shall send the money. Please take a cigar.\"\n\n\n Pashkov took four Havanas from the box they held out to him, stuck\n three in his breast pocket, and lit one.\n\n\n \"You come again, senor. We make much business.\"\n\n\n \"Why not? Help retire Latin-American dictators to Siberia. More gold in\n Siberia than in Las Vegas.\"\n\n\n \"Hyi, hyi, that is funny. You come again.\"\n\n\n On his way up to the roof, Pashkov studied the invoice he had lifted.\n It was from a manufacturer of sporting arms to Francisco Jesus Maria\n Gonzales, Salvation Army Economy Lodgings. He tucked the invoice into\n his inner pocket with a satisfied grunt, climbed into his flier and\n hopped over to Hotel Reisen, where Zubov's kidnaping team was waiting\n for him.\nComrade Zubov, the kidnaping expert, was pacing the roof of Hotel\n Reisen. As Pashkov eased down in his flier, Zubov's big front tooth\n flashed with delight. Pashkov felt like tossing him a bone.\n\n\n \"Everything in order, Gospodin Pashkov. Constant vigilance maintained\n at hospital by my two assistants. With your pardon, Comrade Petchareff\n urges all haste. Colonel James is due to leave the hospital tomorrow.\"\n\n\n \"Comrade Petchareff always urges haste. What else?\"\n\n\n Zubov's big tooth settled respectfully over his lower lip. His small\n eyes were so closely set that he looked cockeyed when he focused them\n on his superior.\n\n\n \"With your pardon, I shall conduct you to our suite. Plans for\n kidnaping of Colonel James all ready.\"\n\n\n \"Here's a cigar for you.\"\n\n\n \"Gratefully accepted. Reduced unavoidable fatalities to six.\" Zubov\n counted on his long hard fingers. \"Two watchmen, three nurses, one\n doctor.\"\n\n\n In the hotel corridor, Zubov looked before and after, his eyes crossed\n suspiciously, and peered around corners. They got to their suite\n without incident, and Pashkov gave him another cigar.\n\n\n \"Gratefully accepted. Here is a map of hospital and grounds. Here is a\n map of twenty-third floor. Here is a map of Colonel James' room. Here\n is hospital routine between midnight and dawn. With your pardon—\"\n\n\n Pashkov picked up the phone, dialed the Soviet embassy, and got the\n chargé d'affaires. \"How is your underdeveloped countries fund?\" he\n asked.\n\n\n \"Always depleted, always replenished.\"\n\n\n \"I don't want any Russian brands.\"\n\n\n \"Nothing but foreign,\" the chargé buzzed. \"We got almost everything now\n through an American surplus outlet in Hamburg. Nationals get caught\n with American goods, Americans get blamed. Wonderful confusion. What do\n you need?\"\n\n\n \"Thirty-o-six two-twenty, three thousand—if you have it.\"\n\n\n \"Most popular. What else?\"\n\n\n \"Pineapples—one crate.\"\n\n\n \"Only confiscated German potatoes. Will that do?\"\n\n\n \"Fine. And a small can of sentimental caviar.\"\n\n\n \"Too risky.\"\n\n\n \"It's all right. It will fall to local authorities by tomorrow.\"\n\n\n Pashkov put down the receiver. Give the Cubans enough to expect\n more—make sure they stay in town.\nZubov was cross-checking his kidnaping plans. He said, \"With your\n pardon, do we take Colonel James alive or dead-or-alive?\"\n\n\n \"Alive.\"\n\n\n Zubov pulled a long face. \"Dead-or-alive would be easier, Gospodin\n Pashkov. Fast, clean job.\"\n\n\n Pashkov squinted at Zubov's crossed eyes. \"Have you had your eyes\n examined lately?\"\n\n\n \"No need,\" Zubov assured him with a smile. \"I see more than most\n people.\"\n\n\n Pashkov held up his remaining cigar. \"How many cigars in my hand?\"\n\n\n \"Two.\"\n\n\n At that moment the door opened and Zubov's kidnaping team lumbered\n in. They were a couple of big apes dressed in blue canvas shoes, red\n trousers, yellow jackets, white silk scarves, sport caps and sun\n glasses.\n\n\n \"What are you doing here?\" cried Zubov. \"Why aren't you observing the\n hospital?\"\n\n\n \"Dhh, you said to report ... um ... if something happened,\" the first\n ape said in a thick voice.\n\n\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"Victim's room lights out,\" the ape said.\n\n\n \"My assistants,\" Zubov introduced them to Pashkov. \"Line up, line up,\n lads. With your pardon, they are good lads. This is Petya, and this is\n Kolya. No,\nthis\nis Kolya and this one is Petya.\"\n\n\n \"Twins?\"\n\n\n \"Not exactly. Same genetic experiment. Good lads. Stand straight,\n Petya. Don't curl your feet like that, Kolya, I've told you before. Why\n didn't you shave your hands today?\"\n\n\n Kolya looked guiltily at his hands.\n\n\n \"They've made progress,\" Zubov assured Pashkov, pulling a small whip\n from his hip pocket. \"Straight, lads, straight,\" he flicked the whip.\n \"We have company.\"\n\n\n \"Are their costumes your own idea?\"\n\n\n \"With your pardon, for purposes of concealment. What are your orders?\"\n\n\n Pashkov told them to pick up the boxes of ammunition at the embassy and\n deliver them to the Cubans, and then to commandeer a private automobile.\n\n\n \"We have autos at the embassy pool,\" Zubov suggested.\n\n\n \"I want a vehicle off the street. Then report back here with your\n lads.\"\n\n\n Petya gave Kolya a box on the ear.\n\n\n \"Boys, boys!\" Zubov cracked the whip. \"Out you go. A job for Gospodin\n Pashkov, lads. They don't get enough exercise,\" he grinned, backing out\n after them. \"With your pardon, I'll thrash them later.\"\n\n\n And they were gone. Pashkov turned to the hospital maps and studied\n them before taking a nap.\nShortly before dawn, Zubov's team returned, their mission accomplished.\n\n\n \"With your pardon, an excellent Mercedes,\" Zubov reported.\n\n\n Pashkov had changed into the hospital gown with the Coca-Cola legend on\n the back. He glanced at his watch. It was four o'clock in the morning.\n\n\n He tossed his bundle of clothing to the first ape. \"Take my flier back\n to Moscow, Kolya lad. Give my clothes to Nadezhda Brunhildova, and tell\n Comrade Petchareff to expect Colonel James today.\"\n\n\n Clutching the bundle, Kolya stuck his tongue out at Petya and bounded\n out of the room. They waited at the window until they saw Kolya take\n off in Pashkov's flier. Then they made their way down the service\n stairs to the alley, Pashkov dressed only in the hospital gown; got\n into the stolen Mercedes and drove to the National Hospital, all three\n leaning forward.\n\n\n In the ambulance court, Zubov and Petya moved quickly to a Red Cross\n flier. Pashkov dropped the invoice he had lifted from the Cubans on the\n front seat of the stolen car, and followed.\n\n\n A watchman emerged from his hut, looked idly up at the rising\n ambulance, and shuffled back to his morning coffee.\n\n\n As Petya brought the flier to a hovering stop against Colonel James'\n window, Pashkov bounced into the room; Zubov drew his gun and jumped in\n after.\n\n\n Colonel James awoke, turned on the night lamp, and sat up in the bed,\n his eyes blinking.\n\n\n Pashkov stood looking at Colonel James. The resemblance between them\n was remarkable. Zubov's eyes were crossed with astonishment.\n\n\n \"My dear Gospodin Pashkov!\" Colonel James greeted him in Russian,\n yawning. \"How kind of you to visit me. Do sit down.\" Not only was his\n Russian good; his voice was a good imitation of Pashkov's voice.\n\n\n \"You're not really sick?\" Pashkov asked, sitting down on the bed.\n\n\n \"Not physically. But imagine my psychological condition. When I look\n in the mirror—\" The colonel shuddered.\n\n\n \"I hope your sacrifice won't be permanent?\" Pashkov said.\n\n\n \"That would be too much. How is my Russian? The truth, now.\"\n\n\n \"Excellent. Put up your gun, Zubov. Colonel James and I don't get to\n talk very often.\"\n\n\n \"And a pity we don't. Good manners accomplish more than an opera full\n of cloaks and daggers. Cigarette?\"\n\n\n \"Gratefully accepted,\" Zubov said, slipping his gun into its holster\n with a flourish.\n\"Your treatment is over, then?\" Pashkov asked. \"You are ready for your\n assignment?\"\n\n\n \"Ready.\"\n\n\n \"And that is?\"\n\n\n \"Delicate, very delicate. I must report to the Palace this morning.\"\n\n\n \"Shall I kidnap him now?\" Zubov interrupted, puffing conceitedly on his\n cigarette.\n\n\n \"Mind your language, Zubov. May I ask, Colonel—do you want me to think\n I am falling into a trap?\"\n\n\n \"No, no, my friend. I am only doing my best not to show my surprise at\n seeing you again.\" The colonel got out of bed and sat down on Pashkov's\n other side.\n\n\n \"Zubov will make your trip to Moscow comfortable. All right, Zubov.\"\n\n\n Zubov focused his crossed eyes on Pashkov.\n\n\n \"Take him straight to Petchareff,\" Colonel James said to Zubov. \"I'll\n report as soon as I know what these Swedes are up to.\"\n\n\n Zubov seized Pashkov by the scruff of the neck and dragged him towards\n the window.\n\n\n \"Hold your claws, Zubov lad,\" Pashkov said. \"You have got the wrong\n man, can't you see?\nThat\nis Colonel James.\"\n\n\n \"Eh?\"\n\n\n \"Use your eyes, blockhead.\nI\nam Pashkov.\"\n\n\n Zubov did use his eyes. He looked from one to the other, and back. The\n more he focused, the more his eyes crossed. \"Eh?\"\n\n\n Colonel James sat calmly on the bed. He said, \"Carry him out.\"\n\n\n Zubov lifted Pashkov off the floor, crashed with his weight against the\n wall, but held on, grinned and staggered with Pashkov in his arms to\n the window.\n\n\n \"You miserable idiot,\" Pashkov shouted. \"You'll get a rest cure for\n this!\"\n\n\n Zubov dropped him, pulled his gun and backed off into a corner. \"How\n can I tell you two apart just by looking!\" he cried hysterically. \"I'm\n not a learned man.\"\n\n\n \"One small but decisive proof,\" Pashkov said, unbuttoning his hospital\n gown. \"I have a mole.\"\n\n\n Zubov yanked the colonel up by an arm. \"Send\nme\nto rest cures, will\n you?\"\n\n\n Colonel James sighed. \"I guess we have to keep up appearances,\" he\n muttered, and climbed out the window into the hovering ambulance. Zubov\n leaped in after, and they were off.\nThe suit of clothes hanging in the closet might have been Pashkov's\n own, identical with the clothes Kolya had taken to Moscow not an hour\n before. Even the underwear had facsimiles of the Order of Lenin sewn in.\n\n\n Satisfied, he crawled into the bed and fell into a pleasant snooze.\n\n\n He was awakened by the nurse, Anastina Bjorklund—alias Anastasia\n Semionovna Bezumnaya, formerly of the Stakhanovite Booster's Committee,\n Moscow Third Worker's District.\n\n\n \"Wonderful morning, Colonel James!\"\n\n\n Petchareff seldom let one agent know what another was doing.\n\n\n She put a big breakfast tray on Pashkov's lap. \"Cloudy, damp, and\n windy. London stock market caves in, race riots in South Africa, famine\n in India, earthquake in Japan, floods in the United States, general\n strike in France, new crisis in Berlin. I ask you, what more can an\n idealist want?\"\n\n\n \"Good morning, Miss Bjorklund.\"\n\n\n The breakfast tray was crammed with a liter of orange juice, four\n boiled eggs, six slices of bacon, four pancakes, two pork chops, four\n slices of toast, a tumbler of vodka, a pot of coffee and two cigars.\n\n\n \"Ah, Colonel,\" Anastina said as Pashkov fell to, \"why did you let them\n change your face? It does not become you at all.\"\n\n\n \"Part of my job. Don't you think I am more handsome now?\"\n\n\n Anastina laughed shrilly. \"That bulbous nose handsome? What woman could\n fall in love with a nose like that?\"\n\n\n \"It shows determination. I wish I had this nose permanently.\"\n\n\n \"You mustn't talk like that. But I'll ignore your nose if you tell me\n more about White Sands Proving Grounds, as you promised.\"\n\n\n \"With pleasure, with pleasure,\" he said, sinking his teeth into a pork\n chop, having seasoned the chop with the soft-boiled egg yolk. \"But\n right now I'm in a hurry to get to the Palace. Give my shoes an extra\n shine, there's a good girl.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, you and your secrets!\"\n\n\n An hour later, Pashkov landed on the Palace roof in Colonel James'\n flier—an exact copy of his own flier. The Palace roof captain stared\n at him, then smiled nervously.\n\n\n \"They are waiting for you in the Gustavus room, Colonel.\"\n\n\n \"Colonel? Do I still look like Colonel James?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, no, sir.\"\n\n\n \"Do I talk like Colonel James?\"\n\n\n \"You've changed completely, sir. If I didn't know, I would swear you\n were the notorious Gospodin Pashkov.\"\n\n\n \"I am Gospodin Pashkov now, Captain. To everybody.\"\n\n\n \"Of course, sir. I'll ring down you are coming.\"\n\n\n Pashkov glanced at his watch. Colonel James would be landing in Moscow\n about now and taken to Comrade Petchareff for questioning.\n\n\n A manservant in velvet cutaways, patent leather shoes and white gloves,\n escorted Pashkov through rooms hung with chandeliers, tapestries,\n paintings. Pashkov entered the last room and stopped as the door\n clicked shut behind him.\nIn the room were three men, all of whom he recognized: Professor\n Kristin of the Swedish Academy, a white-haired old man with a kind,\n intelligent face; the king, Gustavus IX, a thin old man stroking his\n Vandyke, sitting under a portrait of Frederick the Great; and Monsieur\n Fanti, the make-up surgeon.\n\n\n Pashkov bowed his head. \"Your majesty. Gentlemen.\"\n\n\n \"Extraordinary!\" Professor Kristin said.\n\n\n Pashkov turned to the surgeon. \"Monsieur, should my face have such a\n frivolous expression?\"\n\n\n M. Fanti raised his eyebrows, but did not answer.\n\n\n \"I thought,\" said Pashkov, \"that Gospodin Pashkov's face has a more\n brutal look.\"\n\n\n \"Propaganda,\" said the artist. But he came closer and looked at\n Pashkov's face with sudden interest.\n\n\n Professor Kristin said, \"Colonel James, we presume you have studied\n the problem in detail. I'm afraid we have delayed announcing the Nobel\n prize for literature much too long. How soon can you bring Boris\n Knackenpast to Stockholm?\"\n\n\n So there it was: Boris Knackenpast a supreme success, as Pashkov had\n suspected. It would be amusing to tell robotist Medvedev about it.\n\n\n \"Delicate, very delicate,\" Pashkov said. \"Everything depends on my not\n running into Gospodin Pashkov.\"\n\n\n \"We can't wait any longer,\" Professor Kristin said. \"Fortunately, we\n have an ally in the enemy camp. The robotist, Medvedev, is expecting\n you at Knackenpast's villa.\"\n\n\n \"Bad show,\" M. Fanti said suddenly. \"No good. His left cheekbone is at\n least four centimeters too high.\"\n\n\n The men looked at the surgeon, then at Pashkov.\n\n\n M. Fanti fingered Pashkov's cheekbone. \"How could I have made such a\n mistake! Just look at him. People laugh at such faces.\"\n\n\n \"How much time to correct the error then, Monsieur Fanti?\" the king\n asked.\n\n\n \"A week at least. His skin needs a rest. I must rework the whole left\n side of his face—it's all lopsided.\"\n\n\n \"But we can't spare a week,\" Professor Kristin said.\n\n\n \"With your majesty's permission,\" Pashkov offered, \"I am willing to go\n as I am. Indeed, my plans call for immediate departure.\"\n\n\n \"It is a good thing you do for us, Colonel James,\" Gustavus IX said,\n \"and a courageous thing. Please accept our thanks.\"\n\n\n Professor Kristin saw Pashkov to the door. \"One suggestion, Colonel.\n Your r's are still too soft for a real Russian. Why do you Americans\n slur them like that? And I beg you, if you value your life, do not fail\n to watch your fricatives.\"\nThe roof captain saluted as Pashkov stepped out of the lift. His flier\n was serviced and ready.\n\n\n \"What weather in Moscow, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"Ceiling four thousand. We're having patrols half way out to sea. They\n are instructed to let you pass.\"\n\n\n A small incident, the roof captain explained. A Swedish Red Cross flier\n was missing from the National Hospital. Two Cuban agents had been\n arrested and a cache of small arms and ammunition was found. But no\n trace of the ambulance.\n\n\n \"I suppose the Cubans deny stealing the ambulance?\" Pashkov asked.\n\n\n \"They say they've been framed by a fat little Russian. But it's\n transparent, a clumsy job. Imagine, they left a stolen car in the\n ambulance court and in it an invoice for six cases of ammunition. It\n was traced to the Cubans in half an hour.\"\n\n\n Pashkov climbed into his flier. \"Well, it's fashionable to blame the\n Russians for everything.\" He waved his chubby hand, and took off.\n Flying over the Baltic, he set the controls on the Moscow beam.\n\n\n Ten minutes west of Moscow he tuned the communicator in on Petchareff's\n office.\n\n\n \"Seven One Three here, Nadezhda. Tell Petchareff—no, let me talk to\n him.\"\n\n\n \"Seven One ... but that's impossible! Gospodin Pashkov is in conference\n with Comrade Petchareff.\"\n\n\n \"Stupid!\" Petchareff's voice sounded behind Nadezhda's, and the speaker\n clicked and went dead.\n\n\n Pashkov dove into the clouds and brought his flier to a hovering stop.\n\n\n Petchareff did not believe he was Pashkov. Colonel James, it was clear,\n was at that moment in Petchareff's office, impersonating Pashkov. And\n Zubov was probably getting a rest cure.\n\n\n Pashkov crawled out of the cloud and skimmed northeast to Mir, Boris\n Knackenpast's villa.\n\n\n \"You came fast, sir,\" the lieutenant of guards welcomed him at Mir. \"We\n did not expect you for another fifteen minutes.\"\n\n\n Fifteen minutes. The colonel was not wasting time.\n\n\n \"Listen carefully, lieutenant.\" Pashkov described the American agent.\n \"But his left cheekbone is lower than mine—about four centimeters. He\n may be armed, so be careful.\"\n\n\n The lieutenant stared. \"Shall we kill him?\"\n\n\n \"No, no. Put him in a cage.\"\n\n\n As Pashkov ran up the steps to the villa, the curtain in the vestibule\n window stirred. But when he entered, the vestibule was empty.\n\n\n He looked in the dining room, the music room, the library. Nobody.\n The house was strangely quiet. He came to the door of the study and\n listened. Not a sound. He went in and there, behind the large writing\n desk, sat Boris Knackenpast.\n\n\n The robot was unscrewing screws imbedded in his neck.\n\n\n \"My God, sir,\" said Pashkov, \"what are you doing?\"\nThe robot's eyes, large disks of glittering mirror, flashed as he\n looked up. \"Ah, Colonel James,\" Boris said in a voice that seemed to\n come from a deep well. \"Excuse the poor welcome, but I understand we\n have little time. You scared my valet; he thought you were Gospodin\n Pashkov.\"\nThe door burst open and Medvedev rushed in, the old valet at his heels.\n Medvedev stopped, gaped, then seized Pashkov's hand. \"Colonel James!\n What an artist, that Monsieur Fanti. But quick, Boris, Pashkov is on\n his way.\"\n\n\n Boris pulled off his head, and crawled out of the robot shell. Pashkov\n saw Boris as he really was, a tall human with a gaunt, ascetic face.\n\n\n The sad thing about us, thought Pashkov, is that Medvedev could not\n trust even me. But then I could not trust Medvedev, either. Yes, that's\n the trouble with us.\n\n\n \"I hope you need no luggage, Mister Knackenpast,\" Pashkov said. \"We\n must be off at once.\"\n\n\n \"Too late!\" the old valet said from the window.\n\n\n Colonel James had landed. But as he climbed down from his flier, the\n guards closed a circle about him.\n\n\n \"He'll keep,\" Pashkov said, hitching up his pants. \"Let's be off,\n Mister Knackenpast. It won't take long for Petchareff to smell us out.\"\n\n\n \"Look!\"\n\n\n The guards fell back from the flier and snapped to attention. Chewing\n on his cigar furiously, out stepped Petchareff.\n\n\n Zubov leaped out next, his big front tooth flashing. Then his two\n assistants, Petya and Kolya, tumbled out in their coats and hats. Last\n of all to emerge from the flier was Nadezhda Brunhildova.\n\n\n \"Pretend not to know me, will he?\" she yelled at Colonel James, picking\n up a rock.\n\n\n \"Hold it, citizenress,\" Colonel James said.\n\n\n \"Citizenress, is it?\" The rock flew over his head and felled Zubov.\n\n\n \"I warned you both, no kitchen squabbles while on duty,\" Petchareff\n roared. He snapped an order to the lieutenants of guards, and the\n guards surrounded the house.\n\n\n \"No alarm, no alarm,\" Pashkov said, pulling Boris away from the window.\n \"Mister Knackenpast, when you see your way clear to my flier, run for\n it. But get back into your robot costume.\"\n\n\n \"I can't operate the machine.\"\n\n\n \"I'll be right behind you. The rest of us will go out to Petchareff.\"\n\n\n As they came out, Petchareff was reviving Zubov by slapping his face.\n The kidnaping expert lay stretched cold on the ground, and Nadezhda\n Brunhildova stood by, holding the rock and weeping.\n\n\n Colonel James said, \"There he is, the American spy.\"\n\n\n Petchareff looked up as Pashkov was led forward by the guards. \"Not\n bad,\" Petchareff said. \"We could use Monsieur Fanti. What's his price?\"\n\n\n \"Don't you know me, chief? Me, Pashkov.\"\n\n\n \"Curse me,\" Nadezhda said, staring at him. \"Another Pashkov.\"\n\n\n A terrible howl came from Zubov. Petya and Kolya, imitating\n Petchareff's efforts to revive their master, were battering Zubov's\n face with their slouched hats.\n\n\n \"Stand back!\" Kolya screamed, smashing his hat into Zubov's face. \"He\n is trying to say something!\"\n\n\n \"He's moving!\" Petya kicked Zubov and looked up for approval, his hair\n standing up like spikes.\n\n\n Petchareff slapped Kolya's face and crushed the glowing end of his\n cigar on Petya's forehead. The apes reeled back to a tree.\nPashkov whispered to Colonel James.\n\n\n \"Capitalist hell and damnation, now I can't tell them apart myself,\"\n Petchareff said. \"Zubov!\"\n\n\n \"Hhng?\"\n\n\n \"Which one's the real Pashkov?\"\n\n\n \"Hhng?\"\n\n\n But Colonel James was running to the flier, throwing Nadezhda's rock at\n Petchareff and running.\n\n\n \"Grenade!\" Pashkov yelled, and flung himself to the ground.\n\n\n At the same moment Boris Knackenpast ran from the house to the flier,\n his robot gear clattering like Don Quixote's armor.\n\n\n The guards scattered and dove for cover.\n\n\n \"Down, lads! Grenade!\" Pashkov yelled.\n\n\n The two apes took up the cry, \"Grenade, grenade!\" and flattened\n themselves behind the tree.\n\n\n Nadezhda and Medvedev collided, digging in behind the valet.\n\n\n Only Petchareff remained standing. \"Stop the robot!\"\n\n\n Nobody moved.\n\n\n Boris reached the flier, Colonel James pulled him in, the engine\n hummed, and they were off. A moment later the flier vanished in the\n clouds towards Stockholm.\n\n\n Petchareff relit his cigar. \"Tfui, tastes of monkey hair.\"\n\n\n Medvedev shambled over. \"Was the grenade a dud?\"\n\n\n \"One of these days I'll catch you, Pashkov,\" Petchareff spat. \"Your\n deviousness, that's one thing. It could be useful. But your levity—\"\n\n\n \"Darling!\" Nadezhda threw on Pashkov.\n\n\n \"Not in public,\" Pashkov said.\n\n\n \"Wait a minute,\" Petchareff said. \"Nadezhda Brunhildova, how do you\n know he really is Pashkov? If he's actually Colonel James, I can shoot\n him summarily. He\ndoes\nlook like Colonel James to me.\"\n\n\n \"But if you're mistaken?\" Medvedev put in nervously.\n\n\n \"We all make mistakes,\" Petchareff said. \"What would history be without\n mistakes?\"\n\n\n \"I don't trust him either,\" Nadezhda said. \"But I know my Pashkov. If\n he's not Pashkov, I shall let you know in the morning.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does Pashkov need a hospital gown?", "question_unique_id": "51256_P2M1I2KR_1", "options": ["He gives it to Colonel James.", "He wears it when he switches places with Colonel James in the hospital. ", "He is hospitalized after fighting with the Cubans. ", "He wears it to have surgery to change his face. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When Pashkov asks Zubov how many cigars he is holding, does Zubov answer correctly?", "question_unique_id": "51256_P2M1I2KR_2", "options": ["The apes distract him from answering. ", "Yes", "He refuses to answer the question. ", "No"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Pashkov’s assignment?", "question_unique_id": "51256_P2M1I2KR_3", "options": ["To kill Colonel James. ", "To take Colonel James to Stockholm. ", "To kidnap Boris Knackenpast and impersonate him. ", "To kidnap Colonel James and then impersonate him. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Pashkov take the invoice from the Cubans?", "question_unique_id": "51256_P2M1I2KR_4", "options": ["The invoice has the address of the hospital on it. ", "He uses the invoice to frame them. ", "Their phone number is on the invoice. ", "He wants documentation of how much money the Cubans owe him. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who is the ally in the enemy camp?", "question_unique_id": "51256_P2M1I2KR_5", "options": ["Nadezhda", "Medvedev", "Boris Knackenpast", "Monsieur Fanti"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why can’t Zubov tell Colonal James apart from Pashkov?", "question_unique_id": "51256_P2M1I2KR_6", "options": ["Zubov wears glasses, but he breaks them. ", "Pashkov got surgery to look like Colonel James.", "Colonel James got surgery to look like Pashkov. ", "They both wear disguises. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How will Nadezhda know if Pashkov is the true Pashkov?", "question_unique_id": "51256_P2M1I2KR_7", "options": ["She will be able to tell by looking at this cheekbone. ", "Since they are romantically involved, she will be able to see the mole that distinguishes the true Pashkov. ", "Since they are romantically involved, she knows his true voice. ", "She is his sister, so their DNA will match. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Where is Pashkov in the beginning of the story?", "question_unique_id": "51256_P2M1I2KR_8", "options": ["Cuba", "United States", "Russia", "Sweden"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/5/51256//51256-h//51256-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "50826", "set_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Moons of Mars", "year": 1958, "author": "Evans, Dean", "topic": "Martians -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Detective and mystery stories", "article": "THE MOONS OF MARS\nBy DEAN EVANS\n\n\n Illustrated by WILLER\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction September 1952.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nEvery boy should be able to whistle, except,\n \nof course, Martians. But this one did!\nHe seemed a very little boy to be carrying so large a butterfly net. He\n swung it in his chubby right fist as he walked, and at first glance you\n couldn't be sure if he were carrying it, or it carrying\nhim\n.\n\n\n He came whistling. All little boys whistle. To little boys, whistling\n is as natural as breathing. However, there was something peculiar about\n this particular little boy's whistling. Or, rather, there were two\n things peculiar, but each was related to the other.\n\n\n The first was that he was a Martian little boy. You could be very sure\n of that, for Earth little boys have earlobes while Martian little boys\n do not—and he most certainly didn't.\n\n\n The second was the tune he whistled—a somehow familiar tune, but one\n which I should have thought not very appealing to a little boy.\n\n\n \"Hi, there,\" I said when he came near enough. \"What's that you're\n whistling?\"\n\n\n He stopped whistling and he stopped walking, both at the same time, as\n though he had pulled a switch or turned a tap that shut them off. Then\n he lifted his little head and stared up into my eyes.\n\n\n \"'The Calm',\" he said in a sober, little-boy voice.\n\n\n \"The\nwhat\n?\" I asked.\n\n\n \"From the William Tell Overture,\" he explained, still looking up at me.\n He said it deadpan, and his wide brown eyes never once batted.\n\n\n \"Oh,\" I said. \"And where did you learn that?\"\n\n\n \"My mother taught me.\"\n\n\n I blinked at him. He didn't blink back. His round little face still\n held no expression, but if it had, I knew it would have matched the\n title of the tune he whistled.\n\n\n \"You whistle very well,\" I told him.\n\n\n That pleased him. His eyes lit up and an almost-smile flirted with the\n corners of his small mouth.\n\n\n He nodded grave agreement.\n\n\n \"Been after butterflies, I see. I'll bet you didn't get any. This is\n the wrong season.\"\n\n\n The light in his eyes snapped off. \"Well, good-by,\" he said abruptly\n and very relevantly.\n\n\n \"Good-by,\" I said.\n\n\n His whistling and his walking started up again in the same spot where\n they had left off. I mean the note he resumed on was the note which\n followed the one interrupted; and the step he took was with the left\n foot, which was the one he would have used if I hadn't stopped him.\n I followed him with my eyes. An unusual little boy. A most precisely\nmechanical\nlittle boy.\n\n\n When he was almost out of sight, I took off after him, wondering.\n\n\n The house he went into was over in that crumbling section which forms\n a curving boundary line, marking the limits of those frantic and ugly\n original mine-workings made many years ago by the early colonists. It\n seems that someone had told someone who had told someone else that\n here, a mere twenty feet beneath the surface, was a vein as wide as\n a house and as long as a fisherman's alibi, of pure—\npure\n, mind\n you—gold.\n\n\n Back in those days, to be a colonist meant to be a rugged individual.\n And to be a rugged individual meant to not give a damn one way or\n another. And to not give a damn one way or another meant to make one\n hell of a mess on the placid face of Mars.\n\n\n There had not been any gold found, of course, and now, for the most\n part, the mining shacks so hastily thrown up were only fever scars\n of a sickness long gone and little remembered. A few of the houses\n were still occupied, like the one into which the Martian boy had just\n disappeared.\n\n\n So his\nmother\nhad taught him the William Tell Overture, had she?\n That tickling thought made me chuckle as I stood before the ramshackle\n building. And then, suddenly, I stopped chuckling and began to think,\n instead, of something quite astonishing:\n\n\n How had it been possible for her to teach, and for him to whistle?\nAll Martians are as tone-deaf as a bucket of lead.\nI went up three slab steps and rapped loudly on the weather-beaten door.\nThe woman who faced me may have been as young as twenty-two, but\n she didn't look it. That shocked look, which comes with the first\n realization that youth has slipped quietly away downstream in the\n middle of the night, and left nothing but frightening rocks of middle\n age to show cold and gray in the hard light of dawn, was like the\n validation stamp of Time itself in her wide, wise eyes. And her voice\n wasn't young any more, either.\n\n\n \"Well? And what did I do now?\"\n\n\n \"I beg your pardon?\" I said.\n\n\n \"You're Mobile Security, aren't you? Or is that badge you're wearing\n just something to cover a hole in your shirt?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I'm Security, but does it have to mean something?\" I asked. \"All\n I did was knock on your door.\"\n\n\n \"I heard it.\" Her lips were curled slightly at one corner.\n\n\n I worked up a smile for her and let her see it for a few seconds before\n I answered: \"As a matter of fact, I don't want to see\nyou\nat all. I\n didn't know you lived here and I don't know who you are. I'm not even\n interested in who you are. It's the little boy who just went in here\n that I was interested in. The little Martian boy, I mean.\"\n\n\n Her eyes spread as though somebody had put fingers on her lids at the\n outside corners and then cruelly jerked them apart.\n\n\n \"Come in,\" she almost gasped.\n\n\n I followed her. When I leaned back against the plain door, it closed\n protestingly. I looked around. It wasn't much of a room, but then you\n couldn't expect much of a room in a little ghost of a place like this.\n A few knickknacks of the locality stood about on two tables and a\n shelf, bits of rock with streak-veins of fused corundum; not bad if you\n like the appearance of squeezed blood.\n\n\n There were two chairs and a large table intended to match the chairs,\n and a rough divan kind of thing made of discarded cratings which had\n probably been hauled here from the International Spaceport, ten miles\n to the West. In the back wall of the room was a doorway that led dimly\n to somewhere else in the house. Nowhere did I see the little boy. I\n looked once again at the woman.\n\n\n \"What about him?\" she whispered.\n\n\n Her eyes were still startled.\n\n\n I smiled reassuringly. \"Nothing, lady, nothing. I'm sorry I upset you.\n I was just being nosy is all, and that's the truth of it. You see, the\n little boy went by me a while ago and he was whistling. He whistles\n remarkably well. I asked him what the name of the tune was and he told\n me it was the 'Calm' from William Tell. He also told me his mother had\n taught him.\"\n\n\n Her eyes hadn't budged from mine, hadn't flickered. They might have\n been bright, moist marbles glued above her cheeks.\n\n\n She said one word only: \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing,\" I answered. \"Except that Martians are supposed to be\n tone-deaf, aren't they? It's something lacking in their sense of\n hearing. So when I heard this little boy, and saw he was a Martian, and\n when he told me his\nmother\nhad taught him—\" I shrugged and laughed a\n little. \"Like I said before, I guess I got just plain nosy.\"\n\n\n She nodded. \"We agree on that last part.\"\n\n\n Perhaps it was her eyes. Or perhaps it was the tone of her voice. Or\n perhaps, and more simply, it was her attitude in general. But whatever\n it was, I suddenly felt that, nosy or not, I was being treated shabbily.\n\n\n \"I would like to speak to the Martian lady,\" I said.\n\n\n \"There isn't any Martian lady.\"\n\n\n \"There\nhas\nto be, doesn't there?\" I said it with little sharp\n prickers on the words.\n\n\n But she did, too: \"\nDoes there?\n\"\n\n\n I gawked at her and she stared back. And the stare she gave me was hard\n and at the same time curiously defiant—as though she would dare me to\n go on with it. As though she figured I hadn't the guts.\n\n\n For a moment, I just blinked stupidly at her, as I had blinked stupidly\n at the little boy when he told me his mother had taught him how to\n whistle. And then—after what seemed to me a very long while—I slowly\n tumbled to what she meant.\n\n\n Her eyes were telling me that the little Martian boy wasn't a little\n Martian boy at all, that he was cross-breed, a little chap who had a\n Martian father and a human, Earthwoman mother.\n\n\n It was a startling thought, for there just aren't any such mixed\n marriages. Or at least I had thought there weren't. Physically,\n spiritually, mentally, or by any other standard you can think of,\n compared to a human male the Martian isn't anything you'd want around\n the house.\n\n\n I finally said: \"So that is why he is able to whistle.\"\n\n\n She didn't answer. Even before I spoke, her eyes had seen the correct\n guess which had probably flashed naked and astounded in my own eyes.\n And then she swallowed with a labored breath that went trembling down\n inside her.\n\n\n \"There isn't anything to be ashamed of,\" I said gently. \"Back on Earth\n there's a lot of mixtures, you know. Some people even claim there's no\n such thing as a pure race. I don't know, but I guess we all started\n somewhere and intermarried plenty since.\"\n\n\n She nodded. Somehow her eyes didn't look defiant any more.\n\n\n \"Where's his father?\" I asked.\n\n\n \"H-he's dead.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry. Are you all right? I mean do you get along okay and\n everything, now that...?\"\n\n\n I stopped. I wanted to ask her if she was starving by slow degrees and\n needed help. Lord knows the careworn look about her didn't show it was\n luxurious living she was doing—at least not lately.\n\n\n \"Look,\" I said suddenly. \"Would you like to go home to Earth? I could\n fix—\"\n\n\n But that was the wrong approach. Her eyes snapped and her shoulders\n stiffened angrily and the words that ripped out of her mouth were not\n coated with honey.\n\n\n \"Get the hell out of here, you fool!\"\n\n\n I blinked again. When the flame in her eyes suddenly seemed to grow\n even hotter, I turned on my heel and went to the door. I opened it,\n went out on the top slab step. I turned back to close the door—and\n looked straight into her eyes.\n\n\n She was crying, but that didn't mean exactly what it looked like it\n might mean. Her right hand had the door edge gripped tightly and she\n was swinging it with all the strength she possessed. And while I still\n stared, the door slammed savagely into the casing with a shock that\n jarred the slab under my feet, and flying splinters from the rotten\n woodwork stung my flinching cheeks.\n\n\n I shrugged and turned around and went down the steps. \"And that is the\n way it goes,\" I muttered disgustedly to myself. Thinking to be helpful\n with the firewood problem, you give a woman a nice sharp axe and she\n immediately puts it to use—on you.\n\n\n I looked up just in time to avoid running into a spread-legged man who\n was standing motionless directly in the middle of the sand-path in\n front of the door. His hands were on his hips and there was something\n in his eyes which might have been a leer.\n\"Pulled a howler in there, eh, mate?\" he said. He chuckled hoarsely\n in his throat. \"Not being exactly deaf, I heard the tail end of it.\"\n His chuckle was a lewd thing, a thing usually reserved—if it ever\n was reserved at all—for the mens' rooms of some of the lower class\n dives. And then he stopped chuckling and frowned instead and said\n complainingly:\n\n\n \"Regular little spitfire, ain't she? I ask you now, wouldn't you think\n a gal which had got herself in a little jam, so to speak, would be more\n reasonable—\"\n\n\n His words chopped short and he almost choked on the final unuttered\n syllable. His glance had dropped to my badge and the look on his face\n was one of startled surprise.\n\n\n \"I—\" he said.\n\n\n I cocked a frown of my own at him.\n\"Well, so long, mate,\" he grunted, and spun around and dug his toes\n in the sand and was away. I stood there staring at his rapidly\n disappearing form for a few moments and then looked back once more at\n the house. A tattered cotton curtain was just swinging to in the dirty,\n sand-blown window. That seemed to mean the woman had been watching. I\n sighed, shrugged again and went away myself.\n\n\n When I got back to Security Headquarters, I went to the file and began\n to rifle through pictures. I didn't find the woman, but I did find the\n man.\n\n\n He was a killer named Harry Smythe.\n\n\n I took the picture into the Chief's office and laid it on his desk,\n waited for him to look down at it and study it for an instant, and then\n to look back up to me. Which he did.\n\n\n \"So?\" he said.\n\n\n \"Wanted, isn't he?\"\n\n\n He nodded. \"But a lot of good that'll do. He's holed up somewhere back\n on Earth.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" I said. \"He's right here. I just saw him.\"\n\n\n \"\nWhat?\n\" He nearly leaped out of his chair.\n\n\n \"I didn't know who he was at first,\" I said. \"It wasn't until I looked\n in the files—\"\n\n\n He cut me off. His hand darted into his desk drawer and pulled out an\n Authority Card. He shoved the card at me. He growled: \"Kill or capture,\n I'm not especially fussy which. Just\nget\nhim!\"\n\n\n I nodded and took the card. As I left the office, I was thinking of\n something which struck me as somewhat more than odd.\n\n\n I had idly listened to a little half-breed Martian boy whistling part\n of the William Tell Overture, and it had led me to a wanted killer\n named Harry Smythe.\nUnderstandably, Mr. Smythe did not produce himself on a silver platter.\n I spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to get a lead on him and\n got nowhere. If he was hiding in any of the places I went to, then he\n was doing it with mirrors, for on Mars an Authority Card is the big\n stick than which there is no bigger. Not solely is it a warrant, it is\n a commandeer of help from anyone to whom it is presented; and wherever\n I showed it I got respect.\n\n\n I got instant attention. I got even more: those wraithlike tremblings\n in the darker corners of saloons, those corners where light never seems\n quite to penetrate. You don't look into those. Not if you're anything\n more than a ghoul, you don't.\n\n\n Not finding him wasn't especially alarming. What was alarming, though,\n was not finding the Earthwoman and her little half-breed Martian son\n when I went back to the tumbledown shack where they lived. It was\n empty. She had moved fast. She hadn't even left me a note saying\n good-by.\n\n\n That night I went into the Great Northern desert to the Haremheb\n Reservation, where the Martians still try to act like Martians.\n\n\n It was Festival night, and when I got there they were doing the dance\n to the two moons. At times like this you want to leave the Martians\n alone. With that thought in mind, I pinned my Authority Card to my\n lapel directly above my badge, and went through the gates.\n\n\n The huge circle fire was burning and the dance was in progress.\n Briefly, this can be described as something like the ceremonial dances\n put on centuries ago by the ancient aborigines of North America. There\n was one important exception, however. Instead of a central fire, the\n Martians dig a huge circular trench and fill it with dried roots of the\nbelu\ntree and set fire to it. Being pitch-like, the gnarled fragments\n burn for hours. Inside this ring sit the spectators, and in the exact\n center are the dancers. For music, they use the drums.\n\n\n The dancers were both men and women and they were as naked as Martians\n can get, but their dance was a thing of grace and loveliness. For an\n instant—before anyone observed me—I stood motionless and watched\n the sinuously undulating movements, and I thought, as I have often\n thought before, that this is the one thing the Martians can still do\n beautifully. Which, in a sad sort of way, is a commentary on the way\n things have gone since the first rocket-blasting ship set down on these\n purple sands.\n\n\n I felt the knife dig my spine. Carefully I turned around and pointed my\n index finger to my badge and card. Bared teeth glittered at me in the\n flickering light, and then the knife disappeared as quickly as it had\n come.\n\n\n \"Wahanhk,\" I said. \"The Chief. Take me to him.\"\n\n\n The Martian turned, went away from the half-light of the circle. He led\n me some yards off to the north to a swooping-tent. Then he stopped,\n pointed.\n\n\n \"Wahanhk,\" he said.\n\n\n I watched him slip away.\n\n\n Wahanhk is an old Martian. I don't think any Martian before him has\n ever lived so long—and doubtless none after him will, either. His\n leathery, almost purple-black skin was rough and had a charred look\n about it, and up around the eyes were little plaits and folds that had\n the appearance of being done deliberately by a Martian sand-artist.\n\n\n \"Good evening,\" I said, and sat down before him and crossed my legs.\n\n\n He nodded slowly. His old eyes went to my badge.\n\n\n From there they went to the Authority Card.\n\n\n \"Power sign of the Earthmen,\" he muttered.\n\n\n \"Not necessarily,\" I said. \"I'm not here for trouble. I know as well as\n you do that, before tonight is finished, more than half of your men\n and women will be drunk on illegal whiskey.\"\n\n\n He didn't reply to that.\n\n\n \"And I don't give a damn about it,\" I added distinctly.\n\n\n His eyes came deliberately up to mine and stopped there. He said\n nothing. He waited. Outside, the drums throbbed, slowly at first, then\n moderated in tempo. It was like the throbbing—or sobbing, if you\n prefer—of the old, old pumps whose shafts go so tirelessly down into\n the planet for such pitifully thin streams of water.\n\n\n \"I'm looking for an Earthwoman,\" I said. \"This particular Earthwoman\n took a Martian for a husband.\"\n\n\n \"That is impossible,\" he grunted bitterly.\n\n\n \"I would have said so, too,\" I agreed. \"Until this afternoon, that is.\"\n\n\n His old, dried lips began to purse and wrinkle.\n\n\n \"I met her little son,\" I went on. \"A little semi-human boy with\n Martian features. Or, if you want to turn it around and look at the\n other side, a little Martian boy who whistles.\"\n\n\n His teeth went together with a snap.\n\n\n I nodded and smiled. \"You know who I'm talking about.\"\n\n\n For a long long while he didn't answer. His eyes remained unblinking on\n mine and if, earlier in the day, I had thought the little boy's face\n was expressionless, then I didn't completely appreciate the meaning of\n that word. Wahanhk's face was more than expressionless; it was simply\n blank.\n\n\n \"They disappeared from the shack they were living in,\" I said. \"They\n went in a hurry—a very great hurry.\"\n\n\n That one he didn't answer, either.\n\n\n \"I would like to know where she is.\"\n\n\n \"Why?\" His whisper was brittle.\n\n\n \"She's not in trouble,\" I told him quickly. \"She's not wanted. Nor her\n child, either. It's just that I have to talk to her.\"\n\n\n \"Why?\"\n\n\n I pulled out the file photo of Harry Smythe and handed it across to\n him. His wrinkled hand took it, pinched it, held it up close to a lamp\n hanging from one of the ridge poles. His eyes squinted at it for a long\n moment before he handed it back.\n\n\n \"I have never seen this Earthman,\" he said.\n\n\n \"All right,\" I answered. \"There wasn't anything that made me think you\n had. The point is that he knows the woman. It follows, naturally, that\n she might know him.\"\n\n\n \"This one is\nwanted\n?\" His old, broken tones went up slightly on the\n last word.\n\n\n I nodded. \"For murder.\"\n\n\n \"Murder.\" He spat the word. \"But not for the murder of a Martian, eh?\n Martians are not that important any more.\" His old eyes hated me with\n an intensity I didn't relish.\n\n\n \"You said that, old man, not I.\"\n\n\n A little time went by. The drums began to beat faster. They were\n rolling out a lively tempo now, a tempo you could put music to.\n\n\n He said at last: \"I do not know where the woman is. Nor the child.\"\n\n\n He looked me straight in the eyes when he said it—and almost before\n the words were out of his mouth, they were whipped in again on a\n drawn-back, great, sucking breath. For, somewhere outside, somewhere\n near that dancing circle, in perfect time with the lively beat of the\n drums, somebody was whistling.\n\n\n It was a clear, clean sound, a merry, bright, happy sound, as sharp\n and as precise as the thrust of a razor through a piece of soft yellow\n cheese.\n\n\n \"In your teeth, Wahanhk! Right in your teeth!\"\n\n\n He only looked at me for another dull instant and then his eyes slowly\n closed and his hands folded together in his lap. Being caught in a lie\n only bores a Martian.\n\n\n I got up and went out of the tent.\nThe woman never heard me approach. Her eyes were toward the flaming\n circle and the dancers within, and, too, I suppose, to her small son\n who was somewhere in that circle with them, whistling. She leaned\n against the bole of a\nbelu\ntree with her arms down and slightly\n curled backward around it.\n\n\n \"That's considered bad luck,\" I said.\n\n\n Her head jerked around with my words, reflected flames from the circle\n fire still flickering in her eyes.\n\n\n \"That's a\nbelu\ntree,\" I said. \"Embracing it like that is like looking\n for a ladder to walk under. Or didn't you know?\"\n\n\n \"Would it make any difference?\" She spoke softly, but the words came to\n me above the drums and the shouts of the dancers. \"How much bad luck\n can you have in one lifetime, anyway?\"\n\n\n I ignored that. \"Why did you pull out of that shack? I told you you had\n nothing to fear from me.\"\n\n\n She didn't answer.\n\n\n \"I'm looking for the man you saw me talking with this morning,\" I went\n on. \"Lady, he's wanted. And this thing, on my lapel is an Authority\n Card. Assuming you know what it means, I'm asking you where he is.\"\n\n\n \"What man?\" Her words were flat.\n\n\n \"His name is Harry Smythe.\"\n\n\n If that meant anything to her, I couldn't tell. In the flickering light\n from the fires, subtle changes in expression weren't easily detected.\n\n\n \"Why should I care about an Earthman? My husband was a Martian. And\n he's dead, see? Dead. Just a Martian. Not fit for anything, like all\n Martians. Just a bum who fell in love with an Earthwoman and had the\n guts to marry her. Do you understand? So somebody murdered him for it.\n Ain't that pretty? Ain't that something to make you throw back your\n head and be proud about? Well, ain't it? And let me tell you, Mister,\n whoever it was, I'll get him.\nI'll get him!\n\"\n\n\n I could see her face now, all right. It was a twisted, tortured thing\n that writhed at me in its agony. It was small yellow teeth that bared\n at me in viciousness. It was eyes that brimmed with boiling, bubbling\n hate like a ladle of molten steel splashing down on bare, white flesh.\n Or, simply, it was the face of a woman who wanted to kill the killer of\n her man.\n\n\n And then, suddenly, it wasn't. Even though the noise of the dance and\n the dancers was loud enough to command the attention and the senses. I\n could still hear her quiet sobbing, and I could see the heaving of the\n small, thin shoulders.\n\n\n And I knew then the reason for old Wahanhk's bitterness when he had\n said to me, \"But not for the murder of a Martian, eh? Martians are not\n that important any more.\"\n\n\n What I said then probably sounded as weak as it really was: \"I'm sorry,\n kid. But look, just staking out in that old shack of yours and trying\n to pry information out of the type of men who drifted your way—well, I\n mean there wasn't much sense in that, now was there?\"\n\n\n I put an arm around her shoulders. \"He must have been a pretty nice\n guy,\" I said. \"I don't think you'd have married him if he wasn't.\"\n\n\n I stopped. Even in my own ears, my words sounded comfortless. I looked\n up, over at the flaming circle and at the sweat-laved dancers within\n it. The sound of the drums was a wild cacophonous tattoo now, a rattle\n of speed and savagery combined; and those who moved to its frenetic\n jabberings were not dancers any more, but only frenzied, jerking\n figurines on the strings of a puppeteer gone mad.\n\n\n I looked down again at the woman. \"Your little boy and his butterfly\n net,\" I said softly. \"In a season when no butterflies can be found.\n What was that for? Was he part of the plan, too, and the net just the\n alibi that gave him a passport to wander where he chose? So that he\n could listen, pick up a little information here, a little there?\"\n\n\n She didn't answer. She didn't have to answer. My guesses can be as good\n as anybody's.\n\n\n After a long while she looked up into my eyes. \"His name was Tahily,\"\n she said. \"He had the secret. He knew where the gold vein was. And\n soon, in a couple of years maybe, when all the prospectors were gone\n and he knew it would be safe, he was going to stake a claim and go\n after it. For us. For the three of us.\"\n\n\n I sighed. There wasn't, isn't, never will be any gold on this planet.\n But who in the name of God could have the heart to ruin a dream like\n that?\nNext day I followed the little boy. He left the reservation in a cheery\n frame of mind, his whistle sounding loud and clear on the thin morning\n air. He didn't go in the direction of town, but the other way—toward\n the ruins of the ancient Temple City of the Moons. I watched his chubby\n arm and the swinging of the big butterfly net on the end of that arm.\n Then I followed along in his sandy tracks.\n\n\n It was desert country, of course. There wasn't any chance of tailing\n him without his knowledge and I knew it. I also knew that before long\n he'd know it, too. And he did—but he didn't let me know he did until\n we came to the rag-cliffs, those filigree walls of stone that hide the\n entrance to the valley of the two moons.\n\n\n Once there, he paused and placed his butterfly net on a rock ledge and\n then calmly sat down and took off his shoes to dump the sand while he\n waited for me.\n\n\n \"Well,\" I said. \"Good morning.\"\n\n\n He looked up at me. He nodded politely. Then he put on his shoes again\n and got to his feet.\n\n\n \"You've been following me,\" he said, and his brown eyes stared\n accusingly into mine.\n\n\n \"I have?\"\n\n\n \"That isn't an honorable thing to do,\" he said very gravely. \"A\n gentleman doesn't do that to another gentleman.\"\n\n\n I didn't smile. \"And what would you have me do about it?\"\n\n\n \"Stop following me, of course, sir.\"\n\n\n \"Very well,\" I said. \"I won't follow you any more. Will that be\n satisfactory?\"\n\n\n \"Quite, sir.\"\n\n\n Without another word, he picked up his butterfly net and disappeared\n along a path that led through a rock crevice. Only then did I allow\n myself to grin. It was a sad and pitying and affectionate kind of grin.\n\n\n I sat down and did with my shoes as he had done. There wasn't any\n hurry; I knew where he was going. There could only be one place, of\n course—the city of Deimos and Phobos. Other than that he had no\n choice. And I thought I knew the reason for his going.\n\n\n Several times in the past, there have been men who, bitten with the\n fever of an idea that somewhere on this red planet there must be gold,\n have done prospecting among the ruins of the old temples. He had\n probably heard that there were men there now, and he was carrying out\n with the thoroughness of his precise little mind the job he had set\n himself of finding the killer of his daddy.\n\n\n I took a short-cut over the rag-cliffs and went down a winding,\n sand-worn path. The temple stones stood out barren and dry-looking,\n like breast bones from the desiccated carcass of an animal. For a\n moment I stopped and stared down at the ruins. I didn't see the boy. He\n was somewhere down there, though, still swinging his butterfly net and,\n probably, still whistling.\n\n\n I started up once more.\n\n\n And then I heard it—a shrill blast of sound in an octave of urgency; a\n whistle, sure, but a warning one.\n\n\n I stopped in my tracks from the shock of it. Yes, I knew from whom it\n had come, all right. But I didn't know why.\n\n\n And then the whistle broke off short. One instant it was in the air,\n shrieking with a message. The next it was gone. But it left tailings,\n like the echo of a death cry slowly floating back over the dead body of\n the creature that uttered it.\n\n\n I dropped behind a fragment of the rag-cliff. A shot barked out\n angrily. Splinters of the rock crazed the morning air.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is odd about the little boy?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_1", "options": ["He whistles a strange tune. ", "He is carrying a fishing pole. ", "His ears are small.", "He is half Martian and half human. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What happened to the little boy’s father?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_2", "options": ["He was killed because he found gold. ", "He was killed for marrying a human.", "He left Mars to go back to Earth.", "He died in the mines."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did humans colonize Mars?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_3", "options": ["To look for Martians. ", "Earth was too hot to live on due to climate change.", "To mine for gold. ", "Earth was overpopulated."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Harry Smythe wanted for?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_4", "options": ["Stealing an Authority Card", "Stealing gold", "Murdering a Martian", "Murdering a human"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How is the relationship between the Martians and the humans?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_5", "options": ["They are friendly. ", "They have a business relationship. ", "The Martians are distrustful of the humans. ", "They are allies. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the narrator know that the little boy and his mother are with the Martians at the fire?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_6", "options": ["He hears the boy whistling. ", "He follows them there. ", "Wahanhk tells him where to find them. ", "They live there. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why doesn’t the woman want to go back to Earth?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_7", "options": ["She doesn't have a way of getting back to Earth. ", "She wants to find her husband’s killer. ", "She can't afford to go back to Earth. ", "She wants to look for gold on Mars. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What can be inferred happened to the little boy?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_8", "options": ["He is shot. ", "He kills Harry Smythe.", "He catches butterflies. ", "He falls off the cliff. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is the woman suspicious of the narrator?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_9", "options": ["He works for law enforcement. ", "He is a bounty hunter. ", "He is a Martian. ", "He is a human. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who likely killed the woman's Martian husband?", "question_unique_id": "50826_B2WQILEB_10", "options": ["Wahanhk", "The narrator", "Harry Smythe", "Tahily"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/0/8/2/50826//50826-h//50826-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20077", "set_unique_id": "20077_ZF5G55FD", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Slate", "title": "Grand Finale", "year": "2000", "author": "David Edelstein", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Grand Finale \n\n         Mike Leigh's \n\n               Topsy-Turvy                 broadly recounts the creation of Gilbert and Sullivan's comic opera The Mikado at London's Savoy Theatre in 1885. Perhaps \"broadly\" is putting too fine a point on it. The first hour, in which Arthur Sullivan (Allan Corduner) attempts to sever his ties with W.S. Gilbert (Jim Broadbent) and the owner of the Savoy, Richard D'Oyly Carte (Ron Cook), is a mess: The order of scenes feels arbitrary, and characters pop up and vanish with bewildering frequency. You might be tempted to vanish, too. (Friends of mine did.) Be patient. Leigh's movies, born of actors' improvisations and loosely shaped, always take a while to find their rhythm--and, frequently, their point. This one finds everything. By the end of its two hours and 40 minutes, Topsy-Turvy has evolved into something extraordinary: a monument to process--to the minutiae of making art. And to something more: the fundamental sadness of people who labor to make beautiful things--who soar--and then come down to a not-so-beautiful earth. \n\n         It would be charitable to attribute the shapelessness of the early scenes to the characters' own lack of focus, but it would also be inane. As Elvis Mitchell pointed out in \n\n               Slate                's \",\" Leigh's opening shot features an usher who moves along a row of the Savoy Theatre lifting and peering under every seat. That's every seat. You can almost hear Leigh cackling: \"How's this for a fast start?--you bourgeois slaves to narrative.\" Inevitably, something does happen: Princess Ida , one of Gilbert and Sullivan's duds, has its premiere, and Gilbert fumes over a review that calls him the monarch of \"topsy-turvydom\"--of formulaic plots involving magical elixirs and coins. A heat wave has hit London, theater attendance is down, and Sullivan is itching to go off and become the English Mendelssohn--to write operas and symphonies instead of comic \"soufflés.\" Leigh evidently loves the bloodless formality of the scenes between Gilbert and Sullivan, men of opposite tastes and temperaments who only overlap in their work. He must also love that those scenes are narrative dead ends: \"How's this for conflict?--you bourgeois slaves to melodrama.\" \n\n         The wake-up call comes an hour into the movie. Gilbert attends a popular exposition of Japanese culture at Knightsbridge and watches Kabuki routines and women in kimonos pouring green tea (\"spinach water\"). When a Japanese sword he has purchased falls off his wall, he hefts it; mimes a fight while issuing strangled, samurailike cries; then has a brainstorm. We hear the horns of The Mikado overture, then Leigh cuts to the fully realized opening scene on stage at the Savoy: \"We are gentlemen of Japan …\" Just that chorus is enough to reanimate the audience--to make people sit up and grin. And Leigh's technique of leaping back and forth between the finished Mikado and painstaking scenes of rehearsal has magic in it: You're watching straw, then gold, then straw, then gold. And you see the connection. \n\n         A central section of the drama is missing. What exactly fired Sullivan up about doing The Mikado ? What was different about this collaboration? No answer. Topsy-Turvy turns into something other than the Gilbert and Sullivan story: a portrait of life in the theater. A group portrait. D'Oyly Carte becomes a quiet third protagonist, a humane businessman. He softly negotiates a salary increase with the company's lead comic (Martin Savage), a neurasthenic junkie. He gently seeks the assurance of a tipsy ingénue (the tremulous Shirley Henderson) that her \"little weakness\" will not re-emerge. In the dressing room, performers gossip and complain, drink and shoot themselves up with drugs. Leigh's ensemble casts strive to be \"microcosms\" of society, so issues of class are ever present. You see it in Sullivan's banter with the working-class musicians in the pit and in Gilbert's with the uppity actors (the movie's posturing middle class), whom he drills on pronunciation and poise. The chorus is presented as some sort of collective folk conscience when it lobbies Gilbert to restore the rashly cut solo (\"A more humane Mikado never did in Japan exist\") of the sad, fat fellow (Timothy Spall) in the title role. \n\n         Who would have predicted that Leigh would make Gilbert and Sullivan into Mike Leigh characters? Gilbert could be a stand-in for Leigh himself--a haughty, ill-humored man with an obsession for tiny details and a glowering dedication to process. Gilbert haggles with his actors over small things that shouldn't resonate but which somehow add up. Leigh's small things add up, too. The joke of The Mikado is that its Japanese lords are thinly disguised English bureaucrats; the joke of Topsy-Turvy is that the opera's English performers seem culturally incapable of playing Japanese. They rehearse in long coats and top hats, and some of the women (and men!) express horror at appearing on stage without corsets. Behind the satire, however, is a reverence for Gilbert and Sullivan: The tempos are slower than modern audiences are used to, and the staging has been stripped of high-camp accretions. I saw a D'Oyly Carte production of The Mikado in the late '70s: It was played fast and to the groundlings and made me never want to see a G&S opera again. Now I can't wait for the next production. \n\n         Only a lunatic would call Topsy-Turvy , with its lame first hour and host of loose ends, a masterpiece, but by the finale I was ready to have myself committed. The finale itself must have done it. Leigh's endings are often wondrous, and this one is up there with the rooftop scene in High Hopes (1988). The Mikado is a triumph--it would be the Savoy's biggest hit--but there's no transformation in the lives of its makers. Gilbert can't bring himself to reach out to his brokenhearted wife (Lesley Manville), and Sullivan has a melancholy inkling that he has reached his artistic peak. The ingénue, Leonora, is drinking again, toasting herself in the mirror and praising the loveliness of Nature--a Nature that will, of course, destroy her. The final image is of Art: Leonora on stage singing Yum-Yum's sublime \"The sun whose rays are all ablaze …\" As Leigh's camera pulls back over the orchestra and the audience, this movie feels like one of the saddest and loveliest tributes to the lives of artists ever made. Topsy-Turvy leaves you upside down and breathless. \n\n         Like Mike Leigh, Errol Morris rarely begins a project with a clear idea of what he wants it to be. Sometimes he doesn't end a project with a clear idea of what he wants it to be, either. His newest documentary, \n\n               Mr. Death : The Rise and Fall of Fred D. Leuchter, Jr.                , kicks up all sorts of messy emotions that his coolly ironic technique can't begin to handle. \n\n         The director is in his weird element only in the first half-hour, in which he sits his subject down and gets out of his way. Leuchter, who looks a little like the archetypal movie dweeb Charles Martin Smith and has a heavy exurbs-of-Boston accent, explains how he became involved in redesigning problematic electric chairs. \"Excess current cooks the tissue,\" he says, barely suppressing a smirk at his own expertise. \"There've been occasions where a great amount of current has been applied, and the meat actually will come off the executee's bone like the meat coming off a cooked chicken.\" Leuchter set about making capital punishment more \"humane.\" He moves on to talking about his redesigns for lethal-injection systems, gas chambers, and even a gallows, while underneath, Caleb Sampson provides macabre funhouse music and wistful calliope waltzes. Morris' distance from his subject implies condescension--Leuchter looks like something in a jar. But that's OK, because the man is an interesting specimen. Is he a monster or a humanist committed to eliminating the \"deplawrable tawchaw\" of capital punishment? It could go either way. \n\n         M r. Death gets into deeper waters when it recounts the trial of Ernst Zundel in Canada for proclaiming that the Holocaust never happened. Zundel hired Leuchter to go to Auschwitz and examine the \"alleged\" gas chambers: Footage (taken by Zundel's cameraman) shows the little man chiseling at walls, vandalizing what even he admits are international shrines. Leuchter smuggled specimens of rock and concrete back to the United States, where chemical analysis revealed no cyanide gas. Furthermore, Leuchter can't figure out how the gas would even have been administered without killing the Nazis themselves--proof, he argues, that mass extermination at Auschwitz never took place. The subsequent \"Leuchter Report\" became the backbone of Zundel's defense (he lost anyway) and of the burgeoning revisionist movement led by David Irving. But if Leuchter became a hero to neo-Nazis, he also became a target of Jewish groups and a pariah even in the execution business. When Morris hooks up with him for the last time, he's in hiding from creditors. \n\n         Is Leuchter a raving anti-Semite or a pathetic pawn who thrived on having--for the first time in his life--a bit of celebrity? The film suggests the latter. It certainly produces no evidence of malice. Plenty of monstrous insensitivity and hubris, though. Morris uses the Dutch historian Robert Jan van Pelt as a counternarrator: He calls Leuchter \"a fffool \" who didn't have a clue what to look for in a place that had changed enormously in 50 years. \"If he had spent time in the archives,\" says van Pelt, \"he would have found evidence about ventilation systems, ways to introduce Zyclon B into these buildings--but of course I don't think he knows German so it wouldn't have helped very much.\" The most devastating rebuttal is from the chemist in charge of the Auschwitz analysis, who explains that the gas wouldn't have penetrated more than 10 microns into the wall (a human hair is 100 microns thick), so by crushing the samples (standard procedure), he had effectively diluted the cyanide 100,000 times. Against all this, Morris shows footage of Leuchter chiseling at Auschwitz and even adds some of his own, along with slow-motion shots of hammers bashing rocks, walls, floors, etc. It's an obscenity. \n\n         After my rage at Leuchter had subsided, I began to get angry at Morris for aestheticizing that violation--turning it into an ironic art object. The director's beautiful detachment suggests a kind of cowardice. His technique is based on standing back--maintaining a fixed distance--while his subjects hang themselves, and for a while that works stunningly. But at a certain point, isn't it only human to want to engage this man? You don't need to play Mike Wallace and demolish Leuchter on camera. You could just ask him what he makes of, say, van Pelt's assertion that the answer to the riddle of the gas chambers was all over the archives, or what he thought of the chemist's declaration that the test performed for cyanide was the wrong test. Morris can be heard asking one question only: \"Have you ever thought you might be wrong or that you made a mistake?\"--sufficiently broad that Leuchter can casually affirm his own inanity. \n\n         My concern here isn't so much for Leuchter or even the Holocaust revisionists, who'll just think he was sandbagged. The problem is that when a documentary filmmaker seems too scared or cool or arty to violate his own immaculate aesthetic, he ends up weakening his case. He also provides no emotional release, which isn't a small matter when the subject is Holocaust denial. Morris was close enough to Leuchter to have gotten something more, to have gone a little deeper in search of a poison that does penetrate surfaces.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How is the beginning of Topsy-Turvy described?", "question_unique_id": "20077_ZF5G55FD_1", "options": ["exciting and fast paced ", "boring and slow", "dramatic and interesting ", "sad and depressing"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When does Topsy-Turvy's plot begin to get interesting?", "question_unique_id": "20077_ZF5G55FD_2", "options": ["The second half of the movie. ", "A third of the way in to the movie.", "In the first 5 minutes of the movie. ", "Never"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author feel about the way Topsy-Turvy goes and back forth in time?", "question_unique_id": "20077_ZF5G55FD_3", "options": ["It is confusing.", "It is unnecessary. ", "It is boring.", "It is magical. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the author feel about Topsy-Turvy?", "question_unique_id": "20077_ZF5G55FD_4", "options": ["It is not worth seeing. ", "It is an offensive movie. ", "It is full of emotion and enjoyable to watch. ", "It is a masterpiece and will be celebrated as a classic for years to come. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Mr. Death is a documentary about what?", "question_unique_id": "20077_ZF5G55FD_5", "options": ["A documentary about the work of Fred D. Leuchter.", "A documentary arguing that the death penalty is inhumane. ", "A documentary about the different techniques used for the death penalty.", "A documentary arguing that the Holocaust didn’t happen. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Fred D. Leuchter famous for?", "question_unique_id": "20077_ZF5G55FD_6", "options": ["His anti-Semite policies. ", "His investigation into Auschwitz and conclusion that mass murder did not happen there. ", "His anti-death penalty activism. ", "He survived the Holocaust. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the author’s major criticism of the documentary Mr. Death?", "question_unique_id": "20077_ZF5G55FD_7", "options": ["The film is offensive. ", "The film does not include a counterargument to Leuchter's argument. ", "The film is shallow and emotionless.", "The film contains false information. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author feel about the documentary?", "question_unique_id": "20077_ZF5G55FD_8", "options": ["It is excellent.", "It is poorly executed. ", "The subject matter is boring. ", "The information is educational. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "51688", "set_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Air of Castor Oil", "year": 1972, "author": "Harmon, Jim", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; PS", "article": "THE AIR OF CASTOR OIL\nBY JIM HARMON\n\n\n Illustrated by WALKER\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Magazine August 1961.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nLet the dead past bury its dead?\n \nNot while I am alive, it won't!\nIt surely was all right for me to let myself do it now. I couldn't have\n been more safe. In the window of the radio store a color television\n set was enjoying a quiz by itself and creased in my pocket was the\n newspaper account of the failure of a monumental human adventure in the\n blooming extinction of a huge rocket. The boys on the corner seemed\n hardly human, scowling anthropoids in walrus-skin coats. It was my own\n time. Anybody could see I was safe, and I could risk doing what I ached\n to do.\n\n\n I turned the corner.\n\n\n The breaks were against me from the start. It didn't come as any\n surprise. I could never get away with it. I knew that all along.\n\n\n There was a Packard parked just beyond the fire plug.\n\n\n The metal and glass fronts of the buildings didn't show back here, only\n seasoned brick glued with powdering chalk. The line of the block seemed\n to stretch back, ever further away from the glossy fronts into the\n crumbling stone.\n\n\n A man brushed past me, wearing an Ivy League suit and snap-brim hat,\n carrying a briefcase. And, reassuringly, he was in a hurry.\n\n\n I decided to chance it. I certainly wanted to do it in the worst way.\n\n\n My footsteps carried me on down the block.\n\n\n A little car spurted on past me. One of those foreign jobs, I decided.\n Only it wasn't. I fixed the silhouette in my mind's eye and identified\n it. A Henry J.\n\n\n Still, I wasn't worried. It was actually too early in the day. It\n wasn't as if it were evening or anything like that.\n\n\n The little store was right where I left it, rotting quietly to itself.\n The Back Number Store, the faded circus poster proclaimed in red and\n gold, or now, pink and lemon. In the window, in cellophane envelopes,\n were the first issue of\nLife\n, a recent issue of\nModern Man\nwith\n a modern woman fronting it, a Big Big Book of\nBuck Rogers and the\n Silver Cities of Venus\n, and a brand-new, sun-bleached copy of\nDoctor\n Zhivago\n.\n\n\n There was a little car at the curb. This time I recognized that it\n wasn't an import, just a Crosley.\n\n\n I went in, the brass handle making me conscious of the sweat on my palm.\nThe old man sat behind a fortress of magazines and books, treacherously\n reading the funnies in a newspaper. His bald head swiveled on the\n hunched shoulders of his sweater which was azuring toward white. He\n grinned, toothless.\n\n\n \"Came back for more of the stuff, did you?\"\n\n\n He laid down the newspaper. (That subheadline couldn't really be\n making so nasty a suggestion to a noted general, could it?)\n\n\n \"Yes,\" I laughed, not very true.\n\n\n \"I know what a craving can be. I shouldn't smoke, but I do. I've tried\n to stop but I lie there thinking about cigarettes half the night. Long\n ones, short ones, smoked ones, ones unlit. I feel like I could smoke\n one in each hand. It like that with you?\"\n\n\n \"Not that bad. To me it's just—\"\n\n\n \"Don't tell me reading isn't a craving with some of you fellows. I've\n seen guys come in here, hardly two threads stuck together on them, and\n grab up them horror magazines and read and read, until sweat starts\n rolling off the end of their nose. I've hardly got the heart to throw\n 'em out.\"\n\n\n Horror magazines. Ones with lovely girls about to have their flesh\n shredded by toothy vampires. Yes, they were a part of it. Not a big\n part, but a part.\n\n\n \"That's not what I want to see. I want—\"\n\n\n The old man snickered. \"I know what you want. Indeed I do. This way.\"\n\n\n I followed his spidering hand and sure enough, there they were. Stacks\n upon stacks of air-war pulp magazines.\n\n\n \"Fifteen cents for ones in good condition,\" the old man pronounced the\n ritual, \"a dime for ones with incomplete covers, three for a quarter,\n check 'em at the desk when you go.\"\n\n\n I ran my hand down a stack.\nWings\n,\nDaredevil Aces\n,\nG-8 and his\n Battle Aces\n,\nThe Lone Eagle\n, all of them.\n\n\n The old man was watching me. He skittered back across the floor and\n snatched up a magazine. It was a copy of\nSky Fighters\nwith a girl in\n a painted-on flying suit hanging from the struts of a Tiger Moth.\n\n\n \"This one, this one,\" he said. \"This must be a good one. I bet she\n gets shoved right into that propeller there. I bet she gets chopped to\n pieces. Pieces.\"\n\n\n \"I'll take it.\"\n\n\n Reluctantly he handed over the magazine, waited a moment, then left me.\n\n\n I stared at the stacks of flying story magazines and I felt the slow\n run of the drop of sweat down my nose.\n\n\n My sickness was terrible. It is as bad to be nostalgic for things\n you have never known as for an orphan who has never had a home to be\n homesick.\nLiving in the past, that was always me. I never watched anything on TV\n made later than 1935. I was in love with Garbo, Ginger Rogers, Dolores\n del Rio. My favorite stars were Richard Dix, Chester Morris and Richard\n Arlen.\n\n\n The music I listened to was Gershwin and Arlen and Chicago jazz.\n\n\n And my reading was the pulp literature harking back to the First World\n War. This was the biggest part of it all, I think.\n\n\n You identify with the hero of any story if it's well enough written.\n But the identification I felt with the pilots in air-war stories was\n plainly ridiculous.\n\n\n I was there.\nI was in the saddle of the cockpit, feeling on my face the bite of the\n slipstream—no, that was a later term—the prop-wash?—no, that was\n still later—the backlash from the screw, that was it. I was lifting\n to meet the Fokker triplanes in the dawn sky. Then in a moment my\n Vickers was chattering in answer to Spandaus, firing through the screw\n outfitted with iron edges to deflect bullets that did not pass to the\n left and right. And back through the aerial maps in the cockpit pocket\n at my knee.\n\n\n Here he comes, the Spandaus firing right through the screw in perfect\n synchronization. Look at that chivalrous wave. You can almost see the\n dueling scar on his cheek from old Krautenberg. He can afford to be\n chivalrous in that Fokker. I'd like to trade this skiddoo for it. That\n may be just what I do too if I don't watch it.\n\n\n You ain't any Boelcke, mister, but this is from the Fifth for Squadron\n 70.\n\n\n Missed!\n\n\n Hard on that rudder! God, look at the snake in that fabric. At least it\n was a lie about them using incendiaries.\n\n\n One of your own tricks for you, Heinie. Up on the stick, up under your\n tail, into the blind spot. Where am I? Where am I?\nRight here.\nLook at that tail go. Tony can't be giving you as good stuff as he\n claims.\n\n\n So long. I'm waving, see.\n\n\n He's pulling her up. No tail and he's pulling her up. He's a good man.\n Come on. A little more. A little more and you can deadstick her. Come\n on, buddy. You're doing it. You're pulling her up—\n\n\n But not enough.\n\n\n God, what a mess.\n\n\n I'm sick.\n\n\n That damned castor oil in the carburetor. I'll be in the W. C. until\n oh-six-hundred....\nNo, the air wasn't one of castor oil but the pleasant smell of aged\n paper and printer's ink.\n\n\n I'd been daydreaming again. I shouldn't forget things were getting\n different lately. It was becoming dangerous.\n\n\n I gathered up an armload of air-war magazines at random.\n\n\n Leaning across the table, I noticed the curtain in back for the first\n time. It was a beaded curtain of many different colors. Theda Bara\n might have worn it for a skirt. Behind the curtain was a television\n set. It was a comforting anti-anachronism here.\n\n\n The six- or eight-inch picture was on a very flat tube, a more\n pronounced Predicta. The size and the flatness didn't seem to go\n together. Then I saw that the top part of the set was a mirror\n reflecting an image from the roof of the cabinet where the actual\n picture tube lay flat.\n\n\n There was an old movie on the channel. An old, old movie. Lon Chaney,\n Sr., in a western as a badman. He was protecting a doll-faced blonde\n from the rest of the gang, standing them off from a grove of rocks. The\n flickering action caught my unblinking eyes.\n\n\n Tom Santschi is sneaking across the top of the rocks, a knife in his\n dirty half-breed hand. Raymond Hatton makes a try for his old boss, but\n Chaney stops his clock for him. Now William Farnum is riding up with\n the posse. Tom makes a try with the knife, the girl screams, and Chaney\n turns the blade back on him. It goes through his neck, all the way\n through.\n\n\n The blonde is running toward Farnum as he polishes off the rest of the\n gang and dismounts, her blouse shredded, revealing one breast—is\n that the dawn of Bessie Love? Chaney stands up in the rocks. Farnum\n aims his six-shooter. No, no, say the girl's lips. \"No!\" \"No!\" says\n the subtitle. Farnum fires. Swimming in blood, Chaney smiles sadly and\n falls.\n\n\n I had seen movies like that before.\n\n\n When I was a kid, I had seen\nFlicker Flashbacks\nbetween chapters of\n Flash Gordon and Johnny Mack Brown westerns. I looked at old movies and\n heard the oily voice making fun of them. But hadn't I also seen these\n pictures with the sound of piano playing and low conversation?\n\n\n I had seen these pictures before the war.\n\n\n The war had made a lot of difference in my life.\n\n\n Comic books were cut down to half their size, from 64 to 32 pages, and\n prices had gone up to where you had to pay $17 for a pair of shoes, so\n high that people said Wilson should do something about it.\n\n\n Tom Mix had gone off the air and he and his Cowboy Commandos beat the\n Japs in comic books. Only, hadn't he sold Liberty Bonds with Helen\n Morgan?\n\n\n And at school I had bought\n Defense—War—Savings—Security—Liberty—Freedom—I had bought stamps\n at school. I never did get enough to trade in for a bond, but Mama had\n taken my book and traded parts of it in for coffee. She could never get\n enough coffee....\n\n\n \"Nobody would look at my magazines,\" the old man chuckled, \"if I put it\n out front. My boy got me that. He runs a radio and Victrola store. A\n good boy. His name's in the fishbowl.\"\n\n\n I pressed some money on him and walked myself out of the store.\n Shutting the door, I saw that the copy of\nDoctor Zhivago\nhad been\n replaced by\nGone With the Wind\n.\nThe street was full of wooden-paneled station wagons, blunt little\n roadsters with canvas tops, swept-back, tailless sedans. Only one dark,\n tailed, over-thyroided car moved through the traffic. It had a light on\n the roof.\n\n\n I dodged in front of a horse-drawn garbage wagon and behind an electric\n postal truck and ran for that light, leaving a trail of gaudy air\n battles checkering the street behind me.\n\n\n I grabbed the handle on the door, opened it and threw myself into the\n back seat.\n\n\n \"Madison Avenue,\" I said from my diaphragm, without any breath behind\n it.\n\n\n Something was wrong. Two men were in the front seat. The driver showed\n me his hard, expressionless face. \"What do you think you are doing?\"\n\n\n \"This isn't a taxicab?\" I asked blankly.\n\n\n \"Park Police.\"\n\n\n I sat there while we drove on for a few minutes.\n\n\n \"D. & D.,\" the second man said to the driver.\n\n\n \"Right into our laps.\"\n\n\n The second officer leaned forward and clicked something. \"I'll get the\n City boys.\"\n\n\n \"No, kill it, Carl. Think of all that damned paper work.\"\n\n\n Carl shrugged. \"What will we do with him?\"\n\n\n I was beginning to attach myself to my surroundings. The street was\n full of traffic. My kind of traffic. Cars that were too big or too\n small.\n\n\n \"Look, officers, I'm not drunk or disorderly. I thought this was a cab.\n I just wanted to get away from back then—I mean back\nthere\n.\"\n\n\n The two policemen exchanged glances.\n\n\n \"What were you running from?\" the driver asked.\n\n\n How could I tell him that?\n\n\n Before I even got a chance to try, he said: \"What did you do?\"\n\n\n \"I didn't\ndo\nanything!\"\n\n\n The car was turning, turning into shadows, stopping. We were in an\n alley. Soggy newspapers, dead fish, prowling cats, a broken die, half\n a dice, looking big in the frame of my thick, probably bullet-proof\n window.\n\n\n The men opened their doors and then mine.\n\n\n \"Out.\"\nI climbed out and stood by the car, blinking.\n\n\n \"You were causing some kind of trouble in that neighborhood back\n there,\" the driver announced.\n\n\n \"Really, officers—\"\n\n\n \"What's your name?\"\n\n\n \"Hilliard Turner. There—\"\n\n\n \"We don't want you going back there again, Turner, causing trouble.\n Understand?\"\n\n\n \"Officer, I only bought some books—I mean magazines.\"\n\n\n \"These?\" the second man, Carl, asked. He had retrieved them from the\n back seat. \"Look here, Sarge. They look pretty dirty.\"\n\n\n Sarge took up the\nSky Fighters\nwith the girl in the elastic flying\n suit. \"Filth,\" he said.\n\n\n \"You know about the laws governing pornography, Turner.\"\n\n\n \"Those aren't pornography and they are my property!\"\n\n\n I reached for them and Carl pulled them back, grinning. \"You don't want\n to read these. They aren't good for you. We're confiscating them.\"\n\n\n \"Look here, I'm a citizen! You can't—\"\n\n\n Carl shoved me back a little. \"Can't we?\"\n\n\n Sarge stepped in front of me, his face in deadly earnest. \"How about\n it, Turner? You a narcotics user?\"\n\n\n He grabbed my wrist and started rolling up my sleeve to look for needle\n marks. I twisted away from him.\n\n\n \"Resisting an officer,\" Sarge said almost sadly.\n\n\n At that, Carl loped up beside him.\n\n\n The two of them started to beat me.\n\n\n They hit clean, in the belly and guts, but not in the groin. They gave\n me clean white flashes of pain, instead of angry, red-streaked ones.\n I didn't fight back, not against the two of them. I knew that much. I\n didn't even try to block their blows. I stood with my arms at my sides,\n leaning back against the car, and hearing myself grunt at each blow.\n\n\n They stood away from me and let me fold helplessly to the greasy brick.\n\n\n \"Stay away from that neighborhood and stay out of trouble,\" Sarge's\n voice said above me.\n\n\n I looked up a little bit and saw an ugly, battered hand thumbing across\n a stack of half a dozen magazines like a giant deck of cards.\n\n\n \"Why don't you take up detective stories?\" he asked me.\n\n\n I never heard the squad car drive away.\nHome. I lighted the living room from the door, looked around for\n intruders for the first time I could remember, and went inside.\n\n\n I threw myself on the couch and rubbed my stomach. I wasn't hurt badly.\n My middle was going to be sorer in the morning than it was now.\n\n\n Lighting up a cigarette, I watched the shapes of smoke and tried to\n think.\n\n\n I looked at it objectively, forward and back.\n\n\n The solution was obvious.\n\n\n First of all, I positively could\nnot\nhave been an aviator in World\n War One. I was in my mid-twenties; anybody could tell that by looking\n at me. The time was the late 'Fifties; anybody could tell that from\n the blank-faced Motorola in the corner, the new Edsels on the street.\n Memories of air combat in Spads and Nieuports stirred in me by old\n magazines, Quentin Reynolds, and re-runs of\nDawn Patrol\non television\n were mere hallucinations.\n\n\n Neither could I remember drinking bootleg hooch in speak-easies,\n hearing Floyd Gibbons announce the Dempsey-Tunney fight, or paying\n $3.80 to get into the first run of\nGone with the Wind\n.\n\n\n Only ... I probably had seen GWTW. Hadn't I gone with my mother to a\n matinee? Didn't she pay 90¢ for me? So how could I remember taking a\n girl, brunette, red sweater, Cathy, and paying $3.80 each? I couldn't.\n Different runs. That was it. The thing had been around half a dozen\n times. But would it have been $3.80 no more than ten years ago?\n\n\n I struck up a new cigarette.\n\n\n The thing I must remember, I told myself, was that my recollections\n were false and unreliable. It would do me no good to keep following\n these false memories in a closed curve.\n\n\n I touched my navel area and flinched. The beating, I was confident, had\n been real. But it had been a nightmare. Those cops couldn't have been\n true. They were a small boy's bad dream about symbolized authority.\n They were keeping me from re-entering the past where I belonged,\n punishing me to make me stay in my trap of the present.\n\n\n Oh, God.\n\n\n I rolled over on my face and pushed it into the upholstery.\n\n\n That was the worst part of it. False memories, feelings of persecution,\n that was one thing. Believing that you are actively caught up in a\n mixture of the past with the present, a Daliesque viscosity of reality,\n was something else.\n\n\n I needed help.\n\n\n Or if there was no help for me, it was my duty to have myself placed\n where I couldn't harm other consumers.\n\n\n If there was one thing that working for an advertising agency had\n taught me, it was social responsibility.\n\n\n I took up the phone book and located several psychiatrists. I selected\n one at random, for no particular reason.\n\n\n Dr. Ernest G. Rickenbacker.\n\n\n I memorized the address and heaved myself to my feet.\nThe doctor's office was as green as the inside of a mentholated\n cigarette commercial.\n\n\n The cool, lovely receptionist told me to wait and I did, tasting mint\n inside my mouth.\n\n\n After several long, peaceful minutes the inner door opened.\n\n\n \"Mr. Turner, I can't seem to find any record of an appointment for you\n in Dr. Rickenbacker's files,\" the man said.\n\n\n I got to my feet. \"Then I'll come back.\"\n\n\n He took my arm. \"No, no, I can fit you in.\"\n\n\n \"I didn't have an appointment. I just came.\"\n\n\n \"I understand.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe I had better go.\"\n\n\n \"I won't hear of it.\"\n\n\n I could have pulled loose from him, but somehow I felt that if I did\n try to pull away, the grip would tighten and I would never get away.\n\n\n I looked up into that long, hard, blank face that seemed so recently\n familiar.\n\n\n \"I'm Dr. Sergeant,\" he said. \"I'm taking care of Dr. Rickenbacker's\n practice for him while he is on vacation.\"\n\n\n I nodded. What I was thinking could only be another symptom of my\n illness.\n\n\n He led me inside and closed the door.\n\n\n The door made a strange sound in closing. It didn't go\nsnick-bonk\n; it\n made a noise like\nclick-clack-clunk\n.\n\n\n \"Now,\" he said, \"would you like to lie down on the couch and tell\n me about it? Some people have preconceived ideas that I don't want\n to fight with at the beginning. Or, if you prefer, you can sit\n there in front of my desk and tell me all about it. Remember, I'm a\n psychiatrist, a doctor, not just a psychoanalyst.\"\n\n\n I took possession of the chair and Sergeant faced me across his desk.\n\n\n \"I feel,\" I said, \"that I am caught up in some kind of time travel.\"\n\n\n \"I see. Have you read much science fiction, Mr. Turner?\"\n\n\n \"Some. I read a lot. All kinds of books. Tolstoi, Twain, Hemingway,\n Luke Short, John D. MacDonald, Huxley.\"\n\n\n \"You should\nread\nthem instead of live them. Catharsis. Sublimate, Mr.\n Turner. For instance, to a certain type of person, I often recommend\n the mysteries of Mickey Spillane.\"\n\n\n I seemed to be losing control of the conversation. \"But this time\n travel....\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Turner, do you really believe in 'time travel'?\"\n\n\n \"No.\"\n\n\n \"Then how can there be any such thing? It can't be real.\"\n\n\n \"I know that! I want to be cured of imagining it.\"\n\n\n \"The first step is to utterly renounce the idea. Stop thinking about\n the past. Think of the future.\"\n\n\n \"How did you know I keep slipping back into the past?\" I asked.\nSergeant's hands were more expressive than his face. \"You mentioned\n time travel....\"\n\n\n \"But not to the past or to the future,\" I said.\n\n\n \"But you did, Mr. Turner. You told me all about thinking you could go\n into the past by visiting a book store where they sold old magazines.\n You told me how the intrusion of the past got worse with every visit.\"\n\n\n I blinked. \"I did? I did?\"\n\n\n \"Of course.\"\n\n\n I stood up. \"I did not!\"\n\n\n \"Please try to keep from getting violent, Mr. Turner. People like you\n actually have more control over themselves than you realize. If you\nwill\nyourself to be calm....\"\n\n\n \"I\nknow\nI didn't tell you a thing about the Back Number Store. I'm\n starting to think I'm not crazy at all. You—you're trying to do\n something to me. You're all in it together.\"\n\n\n Sergeant shook his head sadly.\n\n\n I realized how it all sounded.\n\n\n \"Good—GOD!\" I moaned.\n\n\n I put my hands to my face and I felt the vein over my left eye\n swelling, pulsing.\n\n\n Through the bars of my fingers I saw Sergeant motion me down with one\n eloquent hand. I took my hands away—I didn't like looking through\n bars—and sat down.\n\n\n \"Now,\" Sergeant said, steepling his fingers, \"I know of a completely\n nice place in the country. Of course, if you respond properly....\"\n\n\n Those hands of his.\n\n\n There was something about them that wasn't so. They might have been the\n hands of a corpse, or a doll....\n\n\n I lurched across the desk and grabbed his wrist.\n\n\n \"\nPlease\n, Mr. Turner! violence will—\"\n\n\n My fingers clawed at the backs of his hands and my nails dragged off\n ugly strips of some theatrical stuff—collodion, I think—that had\n covered the scrapes and bruises he had taken hammering away at me and\n my belt buckle.\n\n\n Sergeant.\n\n\n Sarge.\n\n\n I let go of him and stood away.\n\n\n For the first time, Sergeant smiled.\n\n\n I backed to the door and turned the knob behind my back. It wouldn't\n open.\n\n\n I turned around and rattled it, pulled on it, braced my foot against\n the wall and tugged.\n\n\n \"Locked,\" Sergeant supplied.\n\n\n He was coming toward me, I could tell. I wheeled and faced him. He had\n a hypodermic needle. It was the smallest one I had ever seen and it had\n an iridescence or luminosity about it, a gleaming silver dart.\n\n\n I closed with him.\nBy the way he moved, I knew he was used to physical combat, but you\n can't win them all, and I had been in a lot of scraps when I had been\n younger. (Hadn't I?)\n\n\n I stepped in while he was trying to decide whether to use the hypo on\n me or drop it to have his hands free. I stiff-handed him in the solar\n plexus and crossed my fist into the hollow of the apex arch of his\n jawbone. He dropped.\n\n\n I gave him a kick at the base of his spine. He grunted and lay still.\n\n\n There was a rapping on the door. \"Doctor? Doctor?\"\n\n\n I searched through his pockets. He didn't have any keys. He didn't\n have any money or identification or a gun. He had a handkerchief and a\n ballpoint pen.\n\n\n The receptionist had moved away from the door and was talking to\n somebody, in person or on the phone or intercom.\n\n\n There wasn't any back door.\n\n\n I went to the window. The city stretched out in an impressive panorama.\n On the street below, traffic crawled. There was a ledge. Quite a wide,\n old-fashioned ornamental ledge.\n\n\n The ledge ran beneath the windows of all the offices on this floor. The\n fourteenth, I remembered.\n\n\n I had seen it done in movies all my life. Harold Lloyd, Douglas\n Fairbanks, Buster Keaton were always doing it for some reason or other.\n I had a good reason.\n\n\n I unlatched the window and climbed out into the dry, crisp breeze.\n\n\n The movies didn't know much about convection. The updraft nearly lifted\n me off the ledge, but the cornice was so wide I could keep out of the\n wind if I kept myself flat against the side of the building.\n\n\n The next window was about twenty feet away. I had covered half that\n distance, moving my feet with a sideways crab motion, when Carl,\n indisputably the second policeman, put his head out of the window\n where I was heading and pointed a .38 revolver at me, saying in a\n let's-have-no-foolishness tone: \"Get in here.\"\n\n\n I went the other way.\n\n\n The cool, lovely receptionist was in Sergeant's window with the tiny\n silver needle in readiness.\n\n\n I kept shuffling toward the girl. I had decided I would rather wrestle\n with her over the needle than fight Carl over the rod. Idiotically, I\n smiled at that idea.\n\n\n I slipped.\n\n\n I was falling down the fourteen stories without even a moment of\n windmilling for balance. I was just gone.\nLines were converging, and I was converging on the lines.\n\n\n You aren't going to be able to Immelmann out of this dive, Turner.\n Good-by, Turner.\n\n\n Death.\n\n\n A sleep, a reawakening, a lie. It's nothing like that. It's nothing.\n\n\n The end of everything you ever were or ever could be.\n\n\n I hit.\n\n\n My kneecap hurt like hell. I had scraped it badly.\n\n\n Reality was all over me in patches. I showed through as a line\n drawing, crudely done, a cartoon.\n\n\n Some kind of projection. High-test Cinerama, that was all reality meant.\n\n\n I was kneeling on a hard surface no more than six feet from the window\n from which I had fallen. It was still fourteen flights up, more or\n less, but\nDown\nwas broken and splattered over me.\n\n\n I stood up, moving forward a step.\n\n\n It brought me halfway through the screen, halfway through the wall at\n the base of the building. The other side of the screen. The solid side,\n I found, stepping through, bracing a hand on the image.\n\n\n Looking up fourteen floors, I saw an unbroken line of peacefully closed\n panes.\nI remembered riding up in the elevator, the moments inside, the faint\n feeling of vertigo. Of course, who was to say the elevator really\n moved? Maybe they had only switched scenery on me while I was caught\n inside, listening to the phony hum, seeing the flashing lights. Either\n cut down or increase the oxygen supply inside the cubicle suddenly and\n that would contribute a sensation of change, of movement. They had it\n all worked out.\n\n\n My fingers rubbed my head briskly, both hands working, trying to get\n some circulation in my brain.\n\n\n I guessed I had to run. There didn't seem much else to do.\n\n\n I ran.\n\n\n Get help?\n\n\n Not this old lady and her daughter. Not this Neanderthal sailor on his\n way to a bar and a blonde. Not the bookkeeper. Maybe the car salesman,\n ex-Army, Lions Club member, beefy, respectable, well-intentioned, not\n a complete fool. The guy on the corner reading a newspaper by the bus\n stop.\n\n\n \"I need help,\" I panted to him. \"Somebody's trying to kidnap me.\"\n\n\n \"Really makes you sick to hear about something like that, doesn't it?\"\n he said. \"I'm in favor of the Lindbergh Law myself.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not sure whether—\"\n\n\n \"This heat is murder, isn't it? Especially here in these concrete\n canyons. Sometimes I wish I was back in Springfield. Cool, shaded\n streets....\"\n\n\n \"Listen to me! These people, they're conspiring against me, trying to\n drive me insane! Two men, a girl—\"\n\n\n \"For my money, Marilyn Monroe is\nthe\ndoll of the world. I just don't\n understand these guys who say she hasn't got class. She gets class by\n satirizing girls without any....\"\n\n\n He was like anybody you might talk to on the street. I knew what he\n would say if I cued him with \"baseball\" or \"Russia\" instead of the key\n words I had used.\n\n\n I should have known better, but I wanted to touch him in some way, make\n him know I was alive. I grabbed him and shook him by the shoulders, and\n there was a whoosh and as I might have expected he collapsed like the\n insubstantiality he was.\n\n\n There was a stick figure of a man left before me, an economical\n skeleton supporting the shell of a human being and two-thirds of a\n two-trouser suit.\n\n\n Hide.\n\n\n I went into the first shop I came to—Milady's Personals.\n\n\n Appropriately, it was a false front.\n\n\n A neutral-colored gray surface, too smooth for concrete, stretched away\n into some shadows. The area was littered with trash.\n\n\n Cartons, bottles, what looked like the skin of a dehydrated human\n being—obviously, on second thought, only the discarded skin of one of\n the things like the one I had deflated.\n\n\n And a moldering pile of letters and papers.\n\n\n Something caught my eye and I kicked through them. Yes, the letter I\n had written to my brother in Sioux Falls, unopened.\nAnd which he had\n answered.\nMy work.\n\n\n The work I had done at the agency, important, creative work. There\n was my layout, the rough of the people with short, slim glasses, the\n parents, children, grandparents, the caption: Vodka is a Part of the\n American Tradition.\n\n\n All of it lying here to rot.\n\n\n Something made me look away from that terrible trash.\n\n\n Sergeant stood in the entrance of Milady's, something bright in his\n hand.\n\n\n Something happened.\n\n\n I had been wrong.\n\n\n The shining instrument had not been a hypodermic needle.\n\"You're tough,\" Sergeant said as I eased back into focus.\n\n\n \"You aren't, not without help,\" I told him in disgust.\n\n\n \"Spunky, aren't you? I meant mental toughness. That's the one thing\n we can never judge. I think you could have taken the shock right from\n the start. Of course, you would still have needed the conditioning to\n integrate properly.\"\n\n\n \"Conditioning? Conditioning?\" It came out of me, vortexing up, outside\n of my piloting. \"What have you done to my mind?\"\n\n\n \"We've been trying to get it to grow back up,\" Sergeant said\n reasonably. \"Think of this. Fountain of Youth. Immortality.\n Rejuvenation. This is it. Never mind how it works. Most minds can't\n stand being young and knowing they will have to go through the same\n damned thing all over again. We use synapse-shift to switch your upper\n conscious memories to your id and super-ego, leaving room for new\n memories. You remember only those things out of the past you\nhave\nto,\n to retain your identity.\"\n\n\n \"Identity,\" I repeated. \"I have no identity. My identity is a dream. I\n have two identities—one of them years beyond the other.\"\n\n\n Sergeant tilted his head and his eyes at me and slapped me across the\n face. \"Don't go back on me now. We gave you the best we could. The\n Rejuvenation Service couldn't help it if you were too old for a\nbeta\n.\n You shouldn't have waited until you were so old, so very old. We used\n the very oldest sets and mock-ups we had for\nbetas\n, but you, you had\n to keep wandering onto\nalpha\nterritory, while they were striking\n sets, even.\nBeta\nor not, we gave you good service. Don't slip now.\"\n\n\n I heard the voice and I heard another voice, and it said \"What could\n you expect of a\nbeta\n?\" and they were only some of the voices I was\n hearing, and I wondered what you could expect from a\nbeta\n, and I\n didn't know, or think that I would ever know.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is Mr. Turner addicted to?", "question_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX_1", "options": ["pornography ", "old magazines", "drugs", "cigarettes "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is Mr. Turner so observant of cars?", "question_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX_2", "options": ["He is a car mechanic. ", "He was a car thief in a past life. ", "He loves cars.", "The car models tell him what era he is in at the moment. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does Mr. Turner do for a job?", "question_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX_3", "options": ["He directs war films.", "He is a mechanic. ", "He writes comics.", "He works in advertising. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Mr. Turner decide he needs a psychiatrist? ", "question_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX_4", "options": ["He wants to stop smoking, but can’t.", "He has post traumatic stress disorder from the war. ", "He is addicted to pornography.", "He does not know what is real because he has false memories."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Turner become afraid of the psychiatrist?", "question_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX_5", "options": ["He realizes he is actually the police officer who beat him up. ", "He pulls a gun on him. ", "He knows things about his childhood that he never told anyone. ", "He kidnapped the Dr. Rickenbacker. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "When does the story take place?", "question_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX_6", "options": ["1950s", "1930s", "1940s", "1960s"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Mr. Turner like to read air-war stories?", "question_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX_7", "options": ["He aspires to be a war hero. ", "The stories feel real to him because he can relate to the characters. ", "He likes to escape his real life. ", "He likes to look at the girls in the comics. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What word best describes Mr. Turner?", "question_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX_8", "options": ["Practical", "Trusting", "Paranoid", "Wealthy"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Mr. Turner get into the police car?", "question_unique_id": "51688_5EVPD4SX_9", "options": ["The police arrest him. ", "He turns himself in for stealing magazines. ", "He thinks it is a taxi. ", "He wants to ask the police for help. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/6/8/51688//51688-h//51688-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20075", "set_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Slate", "title": "Kick Me", "year": "1999", "author": "Eliza Truitt", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Kick Me \n\n         Not long ago, out of curiosity, I picked up some exercise videos by Billy Blanks, the king of Tae-Bo. What a flop. The sets were cheesy, the music was awful 1980s synth-pop, and despite their martial-arts pretensions, the routines felt more like aerobics in disguise than like kung fu. But after flailing away in my living room for a few nights, my interest was piqued, and I decided to find out more about the real thing. Which martial art teaches good self-defense tactics? Which one would give me a good aerobic workout? How daunting would it be to jump into a class as a complete beginner? And would I get pummeled by the other students? \n\n         To find out, I tried a handful of karate, tae kwon do, aikido, jujitsu, and kung fu classes in the Seattle area. I scored each one in several areas: how intimidating the class would be to a novice; how much the exercises worked my muscles; how much of an I got; whether it would develop coordination and balance; how much physical contact with other people was involved; and, of course, its value in self-defense. All ratings are on a scale of one to five, with five being the hardest, most intimidating, or most valuable. \n\n         To experts, this will look like a hopelessly biased and superficial inquiry. It is. But to beginners, it is one step toward figuring out which martial art might be right for you. Do you want a chance to kick the stuffing out of someone? Take tae kwon do. Do you want to improve your sense of balance? Take karate. Do you want to know what to do if someone tries to choke you? Take jujitsu. Just remember that if you're jumped by a mugger, the only thing Tae-Bo will be good for is making your attacker collapse into uncontrollable fits of laughter. \n\n          \n\n            Kung Fu              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: 1960s martial arts movies; Bruce Lee. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 4              \n\n         In the all-levels group I observed at Seven Star Women's Kung Fu, there were a dozen or so women dressed completely in black. (Most classes I took were co-ed.) The school wouldn't let me take the class--I could only watch--but that was better than Temple Kung Fu, which made me sit for an interview before they'd even reveal any information on their classes. There seemed to be an active screening process to keep out those with only a casual interest. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 3              \n\n         After meditating for a few minutes, students launched into traditional strengthening exercises (push-ups and sit-ups) and then broke into pairs, with one person kicking pads held by the other. It looked to be decent strength training. Their arms got a good workout from the push-ups and punching; abs, from the sit-ups; and the lower body, from the kicking. It was not extreme, and nobody seemed exhausted. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 2              \n\n         After the strength work and partner work, the class broke into a few groups (according to skill level) and repeated choreographed routines called \"kata ,\" which involve a series of punches, kicks, and blocks with an imaginary foe. The class had broken into a light sweat, but was not gasping for air. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance:                 4              \n\n         The rounded slinky movements of the dancelike kata looked specifically designed to develop grace, coordination, and balance. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 1              \n\n         Almost none. No direct body-to-body contact, but plenty of punching and kicking with pads. \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 2              \n\n         The moves were neat to look at, but they did not seem practical. And without sparring practice, it would be difficult to apply the drills in real life. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: Kicking, punching, and an aura of mystery. \n\n          \n\n            Tae Kwon Do              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: World's most popular martial art, new Olympic sport; lots of kicking; the martial art of the 1990s. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 1              \n\n         I was instantly welcomed into the beginners class at Lee's Martial Arts. People called each other by their first name; there was laughing, joking, and none of the aloofness or self-importance of the kung fu class. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 3              \n\n         This rating is a little misleading. The lower-body strength workout was fantastic--my legs and hips were sore for days--but there was almost no strength training for the upper body. We used our arms only for balance and blocking kicks. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 5              \n\n         We began with everyone standing in lines and kicking into the air. Then we did a long series of running drills up and down the mats. Then there was more kicking: Turning kicks, straight kicks, low kicks, kicks with punching bags, kicks with partners … the list goes on. It was an excellent workout. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 4              \n\n         Learning how to make contact with the pad (and not, say, the face of the person holding it) was important. Balance was crucial in the sparring. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 4              \n\n         At the end of class came a session of sparring (which I, alas, was not allowed to participate in). The students strapped on protective chest pads and helmets and began kicking the stuffing out of each other. \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 4              \n\n         Tae kwon do emphasizes sparring and gets students accustomed to dealing with an assault. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: More a sport than an art; will make short work of flabby legs. \n\n          \n\n            Karate              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: Ralph Macchio in The                 Karate Kid ; the martial art of the 1980s. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 1              \n\n         When I watched a class at the Feminist Karate Union, I asked some of the students how their class was different from the Seven Star Women's Kung Fu class, which is held in the same building. One woman immediately said, \"Oh, kung fu? That's what the mean people downstairs do.\" This class was approachable and open. And karate's so familiar that you feel like you already know how to do it. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 2              \n\n         We started with sit-ups and push-ups, which were the most demanding parts of the class. The kicking and punching made for decent exercise, but I wasn't aching the next day. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 3              \n\n         The drills (lots of punches, blocking, and kicking) provided some aerobic workout, but were not particularly intense. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 4              \n\n         Keeping yourself centered while kicking and punching develops your balance. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 2              \n\n         There was some contact in the paired kicking drills with a partner and pads, but most of the physical contact came during the sparring. Yet this was nothing like the tae kwon do sparring: They weren't clocking each other, just repeating the motions of punching and blocking over and over again. \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 2              \n\n         This was entirely focused on form; no full-force contact between students. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: Kicks and punches galore, with a dash of moral and spiritual teaching about self-discipline and obedience. \n\n          \n\n            Aikido              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: A greasy-haired Steven Seagal incapacitating the enemy in Under Siege . \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 1              \n\n         Despite its reputation, aikido is decidedly nonaggressive--it's about deflecting punches and immobilizing your attacker--and there was a mellow, pleasantly upbeat atmosphere to the class. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 3              \n\n         No sit-ups or push-ups, but pulling and yanking on other people looked like it would build muscle, and the rolls worked on your abs. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 2              \n\n         There was little aerobic work, save for the rolling on the mats (which may explain Seagal's ever-increasing flabbiness). \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 5              \n\n         The goal is to destabilize and control the other guy, so maintaining your balance--and learning to topple your opponent--is crucial. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 4              \n\n         To complete the partner exercises, you had to grab your partner, spin him this way and that, and generally come in very close contact. \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 5              \n\n         Learning how to neutralize a threat was the main goal of the class. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: You don't get to land any punches and it's noncompetitive, but you'll learn how to knock people over. \n\n          \n\n            Tai Chi              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: What those slow-moving people in the park are doing; martial arts for seniors. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 1              \n\n         I found its New Age connections slightly off-putting, but it looks so easy to do that it wasn't daunting. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 2              \n\n         While my heart didn't get pumping, the slow, controlled movements did give my arms, legs, back, and stomach a good resistance workout. You may just be working against gravity, but holding your arms up in the air for several minutes will give you a new appreciation for those slow-moving people in the park. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 0              \n\n         Tai chi involves moving your body slowly in circular patterns, shifting weight from foot to foot, and lifting your arms in rounded gestures, all at a pace slower than you ever thought possible. The motions had names like \"parting the wild horse's mane\" and \"repulsing the monkey.\" I did not break a sweat, but I was bored to tears. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 4              \n\n         Balance and control of your body position are the heart of this art. \n\n          \n\n            Degree of Contact: 0              \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 0              \n\n         I learned how to repulse a monkey, not a person. \n\n          \n\n            Overall: A yawner, slightly embarrassing to perform, but I'm sure if done correctly it brings high-quality inner peace. \n\n          \n\n            Brazilian Jujitsu              \n\n          \n\n            Reputation: For hurting people. \n\n                         Intimidation Factor: 5              \n\n         Although the listing in the phone book advertised the \"Brazilian Jiu Jitsu Academy,\" the sign on the door said \"Northwest Fight Club.\" Inside the club, huge holes had been punched in the walls--some back-size, some fist-size. Huge letters painted on the wall said \"TRAIN & FIGHT HARD.\" The instructor, a handsome young Brazilian man, had a long scar curling out from the left side of his mouth and a fresh-looking purple one by his left eye. When I asked to try the class, he shrugged and lent me a gi (the white outfit most martial artists wear), on the back of which was a drawing of massive snarling pit bull and the slogan \"PIT PULLING PURE POWER.\" I wondered if I was going to need an ambulance to take me home. \n\n                         Strength Workout: 5              \n\n         The next day every inch of my body was sore--my stomach, arms, legs, feet, and neck. For Olympians only. \n\n                         Aerobic Workout: 5              \n\n         This ranks as one of the hardest and most complete workouts I've ever had. After some stretching, we launched directly into hundreds of lightning-fast sit-ups, crunches, push-ups, leg lifts, and scissor kicks. I was quickly panting and my face turned a deep fuchsia. We did forward and backward rolls, learned to escape from various holds, and executed the sort of belly-crawl that marines always seem to be doing in movies about basic training. After an hour and a half I felt close to death, but there was still another hour to go. \n\n                         Coordination and Balance: 2              \n\n         Coordination is important, but since you're tussling on a mat most of the time, balance isn't. \n\n                         Degree of Contact: 5              \n\n         After drills, the instructor paired me with Isabella for partner work. He demonstrated how to get Isabella into choke-holds and leg-locks, as well as how to escape from them. We practiced on each other. It was a little unnerving to be choking Isabella so soon after meeting her, but she didn't seem to mind. I learned how to go from sitting on top of her with a knee in her stomach to a position where her arm was between my legs and I could break it over my stomach. The end of the class was spent with full-on grappling. Getting your face mashed into someone's armpit was de rigueur . \n\n                         Self-Defense Value: 5              \n\n         Jujitsu's few-holds-barred grappling is far more effective when push comes to shove (and worse) than standing arts such as karate. \n\n                         Overall: Lots of grappling, throwing, and choking. Pragmatic, not pretty. High badass quotient.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the author’s purpose for writing the article?", "question_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC_1", "options": ["To tell people how to use martial arts to lose weight. ", "To tell people how to use martial arts for self-defense. ", "To persuade people to not do martial arts. ", "To help beginners find a martial arts class that suits what they are looking for. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author NOT rate for each class?", "question_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC_2", "options": ["The difficulty of the workout.", "The cost of each class. ", "The degree that the class requires contact with other participants. ", "If the skills are useful for self-defense."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who is the target audience for this article?", "question_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC_3", "options": ["Someone who is already in really great shape.", "Someone who is shy to meet new people. ", "Someone who has never done martial arts before.", "Someone who is an expert at martial arts."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which martial arts class did the author find the most difficult?", "question_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC_4", "options": ["Karate", "Brazilian Jujitsu", "Kung Fu", "Tai Chi"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was different about the Kung Fu class?", "question_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC_5", "options": ["Participants sparred with each other. ", "The author was not allowed to participate, but was only allowed to watch. ", "The participants wore uniforms. ", "The class was done in the park. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which class was the least intense?", "question_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC_6", "options": ["Kung Fu", "Tai Chi", "Aikido ", "Brazilian Jujitsu"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which class was the most intense?", "question_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC_7", "options": ["Brazilian Jujitsu", "Tae Kwon Do", "Karate", "Tai Chi"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which martial arts classes are best for someone looking for aerobic exercise?", "question_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC_8", "options": ["Brazilian Jujitsu and Aikido", "Tae Kwon Do and Brazilian Jujitsu", "Tai Chi and Kung Fu", "Kung Fu and Tae Kwon Do"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which martial arts classes are best for someone looking for self-defense skills?", "question_unique_id": "20075_C7JKTVJC_9", "options": ["Aikido and Tai Chi", "Tae Kwon Do and Karate", "Aikido and Brazilian Jujitsu", "Karate and Kung Fu"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20073", "set_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Slate", "title": " I, Antichrist?", "year": "1999", "author": "Jeffrey Goldberg", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "I, Antichrist? \n\n         Early one shiny autumn morning, I got in my car and drove to Lynchburg, Va., in order to find out whether or not I am the Antichrist. You know: the Beast, the Worthless Shepherd, the Little Horn, the Abomination, the linchpin of the Diabolical Trinity. That Antichrist. \n\n         I had my suspicions. Nowhere on my body could I find the mark of the Beast--666--but I do have a freckle that's shaped like Bermuda. And though I have never been seized by a desire to lead the armies of Satan in a final, bloody confrontation with the forces of God on the plain of Armageddon, I do suffer from aggravated dyspepsia, as well as chronic malaise, conditions that I'm sure afflict the Antichrist. \n\n         The surest suspicion I had about my pivotal role in Christian eschatology grew from the fact that I am Jewish, male, and alive. These are the qualifications for the job of Antichrist as specified by Lynchburg's most famous preacher, Jerry Falwell, in a speech he made earlier this year. \n\n         I was actually going to see the Rev. Falwell on a different matter, the future of Jerusalem, but I thought I might just slip this question--the one about me maybe being the Antichrist--into the stream of the interview. Falwell, I guessed, wouldn't be happy to discuss his views on the identity of the Antichrist--he had apologized for the remark but took quite a load of grief for it anyway. \n\n         As it turned out, though, Falwell was eager to talk about the Antichrist. And, as it also turned out, he didn't really feel bad for saying what he said. In fact, he was more convinced than ever that the Antichrist is a Jew who walks among us. \n\n         Let me pause for a moment to give three concise reasons why I'm so curious about the identity of the Antichrist: \n\n         1) I think I speak for all the approximately 4.5 million adult male Jews in the world when I say that we get a little antsy when Christians start looking at us like we're the devil. This is on account of Christian behavior over the past 2,000 years, by which I mean blood libels and pogroms and inquisitions, those sorts of things. \n\n         2) I've always been possessed by the delusional notion that I am to play a major role in world history, so why not a role in the End of Days? And I don't mean the Schwarzenegger movie. \n\n         3) Now that we stand on the lip of the millennium, much of the evangelical Christian world is in the grip of Armageddon fever, and, according to the evangelical interpretation of the books of Daniel and Revelation, the Antichrist will make his appearance before Christ makes his, and his is looking kinda imminent. The Antichrist, in this reading, will be a world leader who strikes a peace deal with Israel, only to betray the Jewish state and make war on it, until Jesus comes to the rescue. The thankful Jews, those who are still alive, will then become Christians and live happily ever after. These beliefs, held by tens of millions of Christians are, journalistically speaking, worthy of note. \n\n         The day before my visit with the Rev. Falwell, I had just finished reading a novelistic treatment of these events, Assassins , which is subtitled Assignment: Jerusalem, Target: Antichrist . Assassins is the sixth book in the \"Left Behind\" series, \"left behind\" referring to those unfortunate nonevangelical Christians who are not taken up to heaven in the Rapture--the opening act in God's end days plan--and are forced to contend with the Antichrist's evil reign on Earth. The \"Left Behind\" series, co-written by Tim LaHaye, the prominent right-wing screwball and husband of Beverly LaHaye, the even more prominent right-wing screwball, and Jerry B. Jenkins, who, his biography states, is the author of 130 books, which is a lot of books for one guy to write, is a phenomenon. Ten million copies of the series have sold already--hundreds in my local PriceClub alone. \"Left Behind\" is the Harry Potter of the Armageddon set. \n\n         The notable thing for me about the \"Left Behind\" series--beside the fact that few in the secular media have noticed that millions of Americans are busy reading books warning about the imminence of one-world government, mass death, and the return of the Messiah, is that all the Jewish characters are Christian. LaHaye and Jenkins are both active participants in the absurd and feverish campaign by some evangelical Christians to redefine Judaism in a way that allows for belief in Jesus. \n\n         Jews (and again, I feel comfortable speaking for all of us here) find this sort of Christian imperialism just a wee bit offensive. Just imagine if Jews began an official campaign calling Muhammad irrelevant to Islam--can you imagine the fatwas that would produce? \n\n         But evangelical leaders, who are, in my experience, uniformly kind and generous in their personal relations, can also be terribly obnoxious in their relations with Jews. \n\n         There is only one road to salvation for Jews, and that road runs through Jesus, LaHaye told me. To his credit, though, LaHaye doesn't believe that the Antichrist will be Jewish. He will be a European gentile, who will kill lots of Jews. \"The Jews will be forced to accept the idolatry of the Antichrist or be beheaded,\" he said. This will take place during the seven-year Tribulation. \n\n         Jewish suffering, though, is divinely ordained. Even though the Antichrist will not be Jewish, Jews are still capable of great evil and have often been punished for their evil, LaHaye explained. \"Some of the greatest evil in the history of the world was concocted in the Jewish mind,\" LaHaye told me, for reasons that aren't entirely clear--he knew what the name \"Goldberg\" generally signifies. \"Sigmund Freud, Marx, these were Jewish minds that were infected with atheism.\" \n\n         I asked LaHaye to tell me more about the Jewish mind. \n\n         \"The Jewish brain also has the capacity for great good,\" he explained. \"God gave the Jews great intelligence. He didn't give them great size or physical power--you don't see too many Jews in the NFL--but he gave them great minds.\" \n\n         Of all the evangelical leaders I have interviewed, LaHaye is capable of some of the most anti-Semitic utterances, which is troublesome, because he is also the most popular author in the evangelical world. \n\n         The Rev. Falwell is smoother than LaHaye. He acknowledges \"where the sensitivity comes from,\" though he shows no understanding of the role the myth of the Antichrist played in the history of anti-Semitism, and he refuses to back away from his opinion that somewhere in Great Neck or West L.A. or Shaker Heights is living Satan's agent. \n\n         \"In my opinion,\" he told me, \"the Antichrist will be a counterfeit of the true Christ, which means that he will be male and Jewish, since Jesus was male and Jewish.\" \n\n         I asked him if he understood that such statements strip Jews of their humanity, which is the first step anti-Semites take before they kill them. He responded, \"All the Jewish people we do business with on a daily basis, not one has ever got upset over this.\" It is not Jews who picked this most recent fight, he said, it is supporters of President Clinton. \n\n         \"Billy Graham made the same statement a dozen times last year, but there was no comment about that,\" Falwell said. \"But Billy Graham was not calling for the resignation of the president.\" Falwell, you'll recall, is no fan of Clinton's; he has even peddled a video accusing the president of murder. \n\n         Falwell is right: Evangelical preachers are constantly accusing the Jews of harboring the Antichrist. \n\n         I asked Falwell if he knew the actual identity of the Antichrist. No, he said. \"People might say, it's a certain person, it's Henry Kissinger, like that, but the Lord does not let us know that.\" \n\n         So there's a chance, then, that I'm the Antichrist? \n\n         Falwell chuckled a condescending chuckle. \"It's almost amusing, that question. Of course not. I know that you're not.\" \n\n         Why? \n\n         \"The Antichrist will be a world leader, he'll have supernatural powers,\" he said. \n\n         He got me there--I have no supernatural powers. I can't even drive a stick shift. \n\n         I pressed him further on the identity of the Antichrist, but Falwell wouldn't play. \"We'll know the Antichrist when he arrives,\" he said. \n\n         Most evangelical leaders, in fact, refuse to publicly guess the name of the Antichrist--though, as Falwell suggests, Kissinger is a perennial favorite, at least among those evangelicals who believe the Antichrist will be Jewish. For most of their history, Christian leaders had been content to ascribe the characteristics of the Antichrist to the Jewish people as a whole. \"Ever since the 2 nd century CE, the very beginning of the Antichrist legend, Christians have associated Jews with everything unholy,\" Andrew Gow, who teaches Christian history at the University of Alberta, told me. In the minds of early Christian leaders, the church was the new Israel; God's covenant with the Jews was obsolete. Therefore, the Jews who remained on Earth were there to serve devilish purposes, Gow explained. \n\n         There are plenty of evangelical thinkers who differ with Falwell, who believe, like LaHaye, that the Antichrist will be a gentile who rises out of Europe. \"The Antichrist is supposed to make a peace treaty with Israel,\" Ed Hindson, the author of Is the Antichrist Alive and Well? , explained. \"Why would a Jew make a peace treaty with a Jewish state?\" \n\n         Hindson suggested that Satan will make the Antichrist the leader of the European Union--the revived Roman Empire, eternal enemy of Israel--though Hindson disputed one popular idea advocated by Monte Judah, an Oklahoma-based prophecy-teacher, that Prince Charles is the Antichrist. \n\n         \"There's no way Prince Charles is the Antichrist,\" Hindson said. \"Satan can do better than that.\" \n\n         In his book, Hindson runs through a list of potential candidates. Bill Clinton is there, of course, as well as Saddam Hussein and Ronald Wilson Reagan (six letters in each of his three names. Get it?). \n\n         Of course, none of these men are gay. \n\n         \"It says in the Bible that the Antichrist will have 'no regard for women,' and so many evangelicals interpret that to mean that he will be a homosexual,\" Hindson said, though he added that he's not entirely convinced. \n\n         This idea--the Antichrist as gay--strikes a chord with many evangelicals, just as the idea that the Antichrist is Jewish strikes a chord. \n\n         I gradually came to see how far-fetched it was to think that I might be the Antichrist. I'm not gay, I'm not famous, I wouldn't know a euro if I found one in my wallet. \n\n         Then it struck me: Barry Diller is the Antichrist. \n\n         There's no way to know for sure. But if you wake up one morning to read that Barry Diller is the head of the European Union (and that David Geffen is his deputy), well, remember where you read it first.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does the narrator think he is the Antichrist?", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_1", "options": ["He is gay and male. ", "He is Jewish and an Atheist. ", "He is Jewish and male. ", "He is gay and European. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which is NOT a reason why the narrator is concerned with the antichrist?", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_2", "options": ["Evangelical Christians are preaching that the end of the world is coming soon. ", "He is concerned that Christians will become violent toward Jews. ", "He thinks his life will be more important and influential than the average person.", "He is conducting research for his dissertation. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Lahaye feel about Jews?", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_3", "options": ["He blames Jews for much of the evil in the world. ", "He thinks being European is worse than being Jewish. ", "He sees Jews as the brothers and sisters of Christians. ", "He thinks all Jews are the Antichrist. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "According to Falwell, why will the antichrist be male and Jewish?", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_4", "options": ["The antichrist will have similar traits to Jesus. ", "World leaders are men. ", "The Bible states this as fact. ", "Women are never important people in history. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to Falwell, why isn’t the narrator the antichrist?", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_5", "options": ["He is too young. ", "He is not a powerful person. ", "He is not Jewish. ", "He is American. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "According to Hindson, the Antichrist will not be Jewish because", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_6", "options": ["The Antichrist will be Atheist. ", "The Antichrist will come from a Christian family. ", "The Antichrist will be a world leader who will make a peace treaty with Israel. ", "The Antichrist will be Muslim."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is a symbol of the Antichrist?", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_7", "options": ["The numbers 666", "The European Union", "A star", "Royalty"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0043", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The theories around the identity of the Antichrist lead to what kind of discrimination?", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_8", "options": ["homophobia and Islamophobia ", "homophobia and anti-Semitism ", "racism and sexism", "anti-Semitism and Islamophobia"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the tone of the article?", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_9", "options": ["cheerful", "anxious ", "depressing", "satirical "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author compare LaHaye’s book \"Left Behind\" to Harry Potter?", "question_unique_id": "20073_DXZXSA0V_10", "options": ["To emphasize that he thinks it is as fictional as magic.  ", "To emphasize that not many people are reading the series. ", "To emphasize that the book series is a fad that will go away. ", "To emphasize the popularity of the book series. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "51295", "set_unique_id": "51295_JKASXZ9X", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Man Who Was Six", "year": 1960, "author": "Wallace, F. L. (Floyd L.)", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Amnesiacs -- Fiction; Accident victims -- Fiction; Identity -- Fiction; Husband and wife -- Fiction", "article": "The Man Who Was Six\nBy F. L. WALLACE\n\n\n Illustrated by ASHMAN\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction September 1954.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThere is nothing at all like having a sound\n \nmind in a sound body, but Dan Merrol had too\n \nmuch of one—and also too much of the other!\n\"Sorry, darling,\" said Erica. She yawned, added, \"I've tried—but I\n just can't believe you're my husband.\"\n\n\n He felt his own yawn slip off his face. \"What do you mean? What am I\n doing here then?\"\n\n\n \"Can't you remember?\" Her laughter tinkled as she pushed him away and\n sat up. \"They said you were Dan Merrol at the hospital, but they must\n have been wrong.\"\n\n\n \"Hospitals don't make that kind of mistake,\" he said with a certainty\n he didn't altogether feel.\n\n\n \"But\nI\nshould know, shouldn't I?\"\n\n\n \"Of course, but....\" He did some verbal backstepping. \"It was a\n bad accident. You've got to expect that I won't be quite the same\n at first.\" He sat up. \"\nLook\nat me. Can't you tell who I am?\" She\n returned his gaze, then swayed toward him. He decided that she was\n highly attractive—but surely he ought to have known that long ago.\nWith a visible effort she leaned away from him. \"Your left eye does\n look familiar,\" she said cautiously. \"The brown one, I mean.\"\n\n\n \"The\nbrown\none?\"\n\n\n \"Your other eye's green,\" she told him.\n\n\n \"Of course—a replacement. I told you it was a serious accident. They\n had to use whatever was handy.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose so—but shouldn't they have tried to stick to the original\n color scheme?\"\n\n\n \"It's a little thing,\" he said. \"I'm lucky to be alive.\" He took her\n hand. \"I believe I can convince you I'm\nme\n.\"\n\n\n \"I wish you could.\" Her voice was low and sad and he couldn't guess why.\n\n\n \"My name is Dan Merrol.\"\n\n\n \"They told you that at the hospital.\"\n\n\n They hadn't—he'd read it on the chart. But he had been alone in the\n room and the name had to be his, and anyway he\nfelt\nlike Dan Merrol.\n \"Your name is Erica.\"\n\n\n \"They told you that too.\"\n\n\n She was wrong again, but it was probably wiser not to tell her how he\n knew. No one had said anything to him in the hospital. He hadn't given\n them a chance. He had awakened in a room and hadn't wanted to be alone.\n He'd got up and read the chart and searched dizzily through the closet.\n Clothes were hanging there and he'd put them on and muttered her name\n to himself. He'd sat down to gain strength and after a while he'd\n walked out and no one had stopped him.\n\n\n It was night when he left the hospital and the next thing he remembered\n was her face as he looked through the door. Her name hadn't been on the\n chart nor her address and yet he had found her. That proved something,\n didn't it? \"How could I forget you?\" he demanded.\n\n\n \"You may have known someone else with that name. When were we married?\"\n\n\n Maybe he should have stayed in the hospital. It would have been easier\n to convince her there. But he'd been frantic to get home. \"It was quite\n a smashup,\" he said. \"You'll have to expect some lapses.\"\n\n\n \"I'm making allowances. But can't you tell me something about myself?\"\n\n\n He thought—and couldn't. He wasn't doing so well. \"Another lapse,\"\n he said gloomily and then brightened. \"But I can tell you lots about\n myself. For instance, I'm a specialist in lepidoptera.\"\n\n\n \"What's that?\"\n\n\n \"At the moment, who knows? Anyway, I'm a well-known actor and a\n musician and a first-rate mathematician. I can't remember any equations\n offhand except C equals pi R squared. It has to do with the velocity\n of light. And the rest of the stuff will come back in time.\" It was\n easier now that he'd started and he went on rapidly. \"I'm thirty-three\n and after making a lot of money wrestling, married six girls, not\n necessarily in this order—Lucille, Louise, Carolyn, Katherine, Shirley\n and Miriam.\" That was quite a few marriages—maybe it was thoughtless\n of him to have mentioned them. No woman approves her predecessors.\n\n\n \"That's six. Where do I come in?\"\n\n\n \"Erica. You're the seventh and best.\" It was just too many, now that he\n thought of it, and it didn't seem right.\n\n\n She sighed and drew away. \"That was a lucky guess on your age.\"\nDid that mean he wasn't right on anything else? From the expression\n on her face, it did. \"You've got to expect me to be confused in the\n beginning. Can't you really tell who I am?\"\n\n\n \"I\ncan't\n! You don't have the same personality at all.\" She glanced at\n her arm. There was a bruise on it.\n\n\n \"Did I do that?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"You did, though I'm sure you didn't mean to. I don't think you\n realized how strong you were. Dan was always too gentle—he must have\n been afraid of me. And\nyou\nweren't at all.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe I was impetuous,\" he said. \"But it was such a long time.\"\n\n\n \"Almost three months. But most of that time you were floating in\n gelatin in the regrowth tank, unconscious until yesterday.\" She\n leaned forward and caressed his cheek. \"Everything seems wrong, no\n matter how hard I try to believe otherwise. You don't have the same\n personality—you can't remember anything.\"\n\n\n \"And I have one brown eye and one green.\"\n\n\n \"It's not just that, darling. Go over to the mirror.\"\n\n\n He had been seriously injured and he was still weak from the shock. He\n got up and walked unsteadily to the mirror. \"Now what?\"\n\n\n \"Stand beside it. Do you see the line?\" Erica pointed to the glass.\n\n\n He did—it was a mark level with his chin. \"What does it mean?\"\n\n\n \"That should be the top of Dan Merrol's head,\" she said softly.\n\n\n He was a good six inches taller than he ought to be. But there must be\n some explanation for the added height. He glanced down at his legs.\n They were the same length from hip bone to the soles of his feet, but\n the proportions differed from one side to the other. His knees didn't\n match.\nBe-dum, be-dum, be-dumdum, but your knees don't match\n—the\n snatch of an ancient song floated through his head.\n\n\n Quickly, he scanned himself. It was the same elsewhere. The upper right\n arm was massive, too big for the shoulder it merged with. And the\n forearm, while long, was slender. He blinked and looked again. While\n they were patching him up, did they really think he needed black, red\n and brown hair? He wondered how a beagle felt.\nWhat were they, a bunch of humorists? Did they, for comic effect, piece\n together a body out of bits and scraps left over from a chopping block?\n It was himself he was looking at, otherwise he'd say the results were\n neither hideous nor horrible, but merely—well, what? Ludicrous and\n laughable—and there were complications in that too. Who wants to be\n an involuntary clown, a physical buffoon that Mother Nature hadn't\n duplicated since Man began?\n\n\n He felt the stubble on his face with his left hand—he\nthought\nit\n was his left hand—at least it was on that side. The emerging whiskers\n didn't feel like anything he remembered. Wait a minute—was it\nhis\nmemory? He leaned against the wall and nearly fell down. The length of\n that arm was unexpectedly different.\n\n\n He hobbled over to a chair and sat down, staring miserably at Erica as\n she began dressing. There was quite a contrast between the loveliness\n of her body and the circus comedy of his own.\n\n\n \"Difficult, isn't it?\" she said, tugging her bra together and closing\n the last snap, which took considerable effort. She was a small girl\n generally, though not around the chest.\n\n\n It was difficult and in addition to his physique there were the\n memories he couldn't account for. Come to think of it, he must have\n been awfully busy to have so many careers in such a short time—\nand\nall those wives too.\n\n\n Erica came close and leaned comfortingly against him, but he wasn't\n comforted. \"I waited till I was sure. I didn't want to upset you.\"\n\n\n He wasn't as sure as she seemed to be now. Somehow, maybe he was still\n Dan Merrol—but he wasn't going to insist on it—not after looking at\n himself. Not after trying to sort out those damned memories.\n\n\n She was too kind, pretending to be a little attracted to him, to the\n scrambled face, to the mismatched lumps and limbs and shapes that,\n stretching the term, currently formed his body. It was clear what he\n had to do.\nThe jacket he had worn last night didn't fit. Erica cut off the sleeve\n that hung far over his fingertips on one side and basted it to the\n sleeve that ended well above his wrist, on the other. The shoulders\n were narrow, but the material would stretch and after shrugging around\n in it, he managed to expand it so it was not too tight.\n\n\n The trousers were also a problem—six inches short with no material\n to add on, but here again Erica proved equal to the task and, using\n the cuffs, contrived to lengthen them. Shoes were another difficulty.\n For one foot the size was not bad, but he could almost step out of the\n other shoe. When she wasn't looking, he wadded up a spare sock and\n stuffed it in the toe.\n\n\n He looked critically at himself in the mirror. Dressed, his total\n effect was better than he had dared hope it would be. True, he did look\ndifferent\n.\n\n\n Erica gazed at him with melancholy affection. \"I can't understand why\n they let you out wearing those clothes—or for that matter, why they\n let you out at all.\"\n\n\n He must have given some explanation as he'd stumbled through the door.\n What was it?\n\n\n \"When I brought the clothes yesterday, they told me I couldn't see you\n for a day or so,\" she mused aloud. \"It was the first time you'd been\n out of the regrowth tank—where no one could see you—and they didn't\n know the clothes wouldn't fit. You were covered with a sheet, sleeping,\n I think. They let me peek in and I could make out a corner of your\n face.\"\n\n\n It was the clothes, plus the brief glimpse of his face, which had made\n her think she recognized him when he came in.\n\n\n \"They told me you'd have to have psychotherapy and I'd have to have\n orientation before I could see you. That's why I was so surprised when\n you rang the bell.\"\n\n\n His head was churning with ideas, trying to sort them out. Part of last\n night was dim, part sharp and satisfying.\n\n\n \"What's Wysocki's theorem?\" she asked.\n\n\n \"\nWhose\ntheorem?\"\n\n\n \"Wysocki's. I started to call the hospital and you wouldn't let me,\n because of the theorem. You said you'd explain it this morning.\" She\n glanced at the bruise on her arm.\n\n\n It was then he'd grabbed her, to keep her from talking to the hospital.\n He'd been unnecessarily rough, but that could be ascribed to lack of\n coordination. She could have been terrified, might have resisted—but\n she hadn't. At that time, she must have half-believed he was Dan\n Merrol, still dangerously near the edges of post-regrowth shock.\nShe was looking at him, waiting for that explanation. He shook his\n mind frantically and the words came out. \"Self-therapy,\" he said\n briskly. \"The patient alone understands what he needs.\" She started to\n interrupt, but he shook his head and went on blithely. \"That's the\n first corollary of the theorem. The second is that there are critical\n times in the recovery of the patient. At such times, with the least\n possible supervision, he should be encouraged to make his own decisions\n and carry them through by himself, even though running a slight risk of\n physical complications.\"\n\n\n \"That's new, isn't it?\" she said. \"I always thought they watched the\n patient carefully.\"\n\n\n It ought to be new—he'd just invented it. \"You know how rapidly\n medical practices change,\" he said quickly. \"Anyway, when they\n examined me last night, I was much stronger than they expected—so,\n when I wanted to come home, they let me. It's their latest belief that\n initiative is more important than perfect health.\"\n\n\n \"Strange,\" she muttered. \"But you are very strong.\" She looked at him\n and blushed. \"Initiative, certainly you have. Dan could use some,\n wherever he is.\"\n\n\n Dan again, whether it was himself or another person. For a brief time,\n as she listened to him, he'd had the silly idea that.... But it could\n never happen to him. He'd better leave now while she was distracted and\n bewildered and believed what he was saying. \"I've got to go. I'm due\n back,\" he told her.\n\n\n \"Not before you eat,\" she said. \"Any man who's spent the night with me\n is hungry in the morning.\"\n\n\n It was a domestic miracle that amidst all the pressing and fitting,\n she'd somehow prepared breakfast and he hadn't noticed. It was a simple\n chore with the automatics, but to him it seemed a proof of her wifely\n skill.\n\n\n He wanted to protest, but didn't. Maybe it was the hand she was\n holding—it seemed to be equipped with a better set of nerves than its\n predecessor. It tingled at her touch. Sadly, he sat down and looked at\n his food. Eat? Did he want to eat? Oddly enough, he did.\n\n\n \"How much do you remember of the accident?\" She shoved aside her own\n food and sat watching him.\nNot a thing, now that she asked. In fact, there wasn't much he did\n remember. There had been the chart at his bed-side, with one word\n scrawled on it—\naccident\n—and that was where he'd got the idea. There\n had been other marks too, but he hadn't been able to decipher them. He\n nodded and said nothing and she took it as he thought she would.\n\n\n \"It wasn't anybody's fault. The warning devices which were supposed to\n work didn't,\" she began. \"A Moon ship collided with a Mars liner in\n the upper atmosphere. The ships broke up in several parts and since\n they are compartmented and the delay rockets switched on immediately,\n the separate parts fell rather gently, considering how high they were.\n Casualties weren't as great as you might think.\n\n\n \"Parts of the two ships fell together, the rest were scattered. There\n was some interchange of passengers in the wreckage, but since you were\n found in the control compartment of the Mars liner, they assumed you\n were the pilot. They never let me see you until yesterday and then\n it was just a glimpse. I took their word when they said you were Dan\n Merrol.\"\n\n\n At least he knew who or what Dan Merrol was—the pilot of the Mars\n liner. They had assumed he was the pilot because of where he was found,\n but he might have been tossed there—impact did strange things.\n\n\n Dan Merrol was a spaceship pilot and he hadn't included it among his\n skills. It was strange that she had believed him at all. But now that\n it was out in the open, he did remember some facts about spaceships. He\n felt he could manage a takeoff at this instant.\n\n\n But why hadn't he told her? Shock? Perhaps—but where had those other\n identities come from—lepidopterist, musician, actor, mathematician\n and wrestler? And where had he got memories of wives, slender and\n passionate, petite and wild, casual and complaisant, nagging and\n insecure?\n\n\n Erica he didn't remember at all, save from last night, and what was\n that due to?\n\n\n \"What are you going to do?\" he asked, deliberately toying with the last\n bite of breakfast. It gave him time to think.\n\n\n \"They said they'd identified everyone, living or dead, and I supposed\n they had. After seeing you, I can believe they made any number of\n similar mistakes. Dan Merrol may be alive under another name. It will\n be hard to do, but I must try to find him. Some of the accident victims\n went to other hospitals, you know, the ones located nearest where they\n fell.\"\n\n\n Even if he was sure, he didn't know whether he could tell her—and he\n wasn't sure any longer, although he had been. On the physical side of\n marriage, how could he ask her to share a body she'd have to laugh at?\n Later, he might tell her, if there was to be a 'later.' He pushed back\n his chair and looked at her uncertainly.\n\n\n \"Let me call a 'copter,\" she said. \"I hate to see you go.\"\n\n\n \"Wysocki's theorem,\" he told her. \"The patient has decided to walk.\"\n He weaved toward the door and twisted the knob. He turned in time to\n catch her in his arms.\n\n\n \"I know this is wrong,\" she said, pressing against him.\n\n\n It might be wrong, but it was very pleasant, though he did guess her\n motives. She was a warmhearted girl and couldn't help pitying him.\n \"Don't be so damned considerate,\" he mumbled.\n\n\n \"You'll have to put me down,\" she said, averting her eyes.\n \"Otherwise.... You're an intolerable funny man.\"\n\n\n He knew it—he could see himself in the mirror. He was something to\n laugh at when anyone got tired of pretending sympathy. He put her down\n and stumbled out. He thought he could hear the bed creak as she threw\n herself on it.\nII\n\n\n Once he got started, walking wasn't hard. His left side swung at a\n different rate from his right, but that was due to the variation in\n the length of his thighs and lower legs, and the two rhythms could be\n reconciled. He swept along, gaining control of his muscles. He became\n aware that he was whizzing past everyone.\n\n\n He slowed down—he didn't want to attract attention. It was difficult\n but he learned to walk at a pedestrian pace. However poorly they'd\n matched his legs, they'd given him good ones.\n\n\n Last night, on an impulse, he'd left the hospital and now he had to go\n back.\nHad\nto? Of course. There were too many uncertainties still to\n be settled. He glanced around. It was still very early in the morning\n and normal traffic was just beginning. Maybe they hadn't missed him\n yet, though it was unlikely.\n\n\n He seemed to know the route well enough and covered the distance in a\n brief time. He turned in at the building and, scanning the directory,\n went at once to the proper floor and stopped at the desk.\nThe receptionist was busy with the drawer of the desk. \"Can I help\n you?\" she asked, continuing to peer down.\n\n\n \"The director—Doctor Crander. I don't have an appointment.\"\n\n\n \"Then the director can't see you.\" The girl looked up and her firmly\n polite expression became a grimace of barely suppressed laughter.\n\n\n Then laughter was swept away. What replaced it he couldn't say, but it\n didn't seem related to humor. She placed her hand near his but it went\n astray and got tangled with his fingers. \"I just thought of a joke,\"\n she murmured. \"Please don't think that I consider you at all funny.\"\n\n\n The hell she didn't—and it was the second time within the hour a woman\n had used that word on him. He wished they'd stop. He took back his\n hand, the slender one, an exquisite thing that might once have belonged\n to a musician. Was there an instrument played with one hand? The other\n one was far larger and clumsier, more suited to mayhem than music.\n \"When can I see the director?\"\n\n\n She blinked at him. \"A patient?\" She didn't need to look twice to see\n that he had been one. \"The director does occasionally see ex-patients.\"\n\n\n He watched her appreciatively as she went inside. The way she walked,\n you'd think she had a special audience. Presently the door opened and\n she came back, batting her eyes vigorously.\n\n\n \"You can go in now,\" she said huskily. Strange, her voice had dropped\n an octave in less than a minute. \"The old boy tried to pretend he was\n in the middle of a grave emergency.\"\n\n\n On his way in, he miscalculated, or she did, and he brushed against\n her. The touch was pleasant, but not thrilling. That reaction seemed\n reserved for Erica.\n\n\n \"Glad to see you,\" said Doctor Crander, behind the desk. He was nervous\n and harassed for so early in the morning. \"The receptionist didn't give\n me your name. For some reason she seems upset.\"\n\n\n She did at that, he thought—probably bewildered by his appearance. The\n hospital didn't seem to have a calming influence on either her or the\n doctor. \"That's why I came here. I'm not sure who I am. I thought I was\n Dan Merrol.\"\n\n\n Doctor Crander tried to fight his way through the desk. Being a little\n wider and solider, though not by much, the desk won. He contented\n himself by wiping his forehead. \"Our missing patient,\" he said, sighing\n with vast relief. \"For a while I had visions of....\" He then decided\n that visions were nothing a medical man should place much faith in.\n\n\n \"Then I\nam\nDan Merrol?\"\n\n\n The doctor came cautiously around the desk this time. \"Of course. I\n didn't expect that you'd come walking in my office—that's why I didn't\n recognize you immediately.\" He exhaled peevishly. \"Where did you go?\n We've been searching for you everywhere.\"\n\n\n It seemed wiser to Dan not to tell him everything. \"It was stuffy\n inside. I went out for a stroll before the nurse came in.\"\n\n\n Crander frowned, his nervousness rapidly disappearing. \"Then it was\n about an hour ago. We didn't think you could walk at all so soon, or we\n would have kept someone on duty through the night.\"\nThey had underestimated him, but he didn't mind. Of course, he didn't\n know how a patient from the regrowth tanks was supposed to act.\n The doctor took his pulse. \"Seems fine,\" he said, surprised. \"Sit\n down—please sit down.\"\n\n\n Without waiting for him to comply, Crander pushed him into a chair and\n began hauling out a variety of instruments with which he poked about\n his bewildered patient.\n\n\n Finally Crander seemed satisfied. \"Excellent,\" he said. \"If I didn't\n know better, I'd say you were almost fully recovered. A week ago, we\n considered removing you from the regrowth tank. Our decision to leave\n you there an extra week has paid off very, very nicely.\"\n\n\n Merrol wasn't as pleased as the doctor appeared to be. \"Granted you can\n identify me as the person who came out of regrowth—but does that mean\n I'm Dan Merrol? Could there be a mistake?\"\n\n\n Crander eyed him clinically. \"We don't ordinarily do this—but it is\n evident that with you peace of mind is more important than procedure.\n And you look well enough to stand the physical strain.\"\n\n\n He pressed the buzzer and an angular woman in her early forties\n answered. \"Miss Jerrems, the Dan Merrol file.\"\n\n\n Miss Jerrems flashed a glance of open adoration at the doctor and\n before she could reel it in, her gaze swept past Dan, hesitated and\n returned to him. Her mouth opened and closed like that of a nervous\n goldfish and she darted from the room.\nThey see me and flee as fast as they can caper\n, thought Merrol. It\n was not wholly true—Crander didn't seem much affected. But he was a\n doctor and used to it. Furthermore, he probably had room for only one\n emotion at the moment—relief at the return of his patient.\n\n\n Miss Jerrems came back, wheeling a large cart. Dan was surprised at the\n mass of records. Crander noticed his expression and smiled. \"You're\n our prize case, Merrol. I've never heard of anyone else surviving\n such extensive surgery. Naturally, we have a step-by-step account of\n everything we did.\"\n\n\n He turned to the woman. \"You may leave, Miss Jerrems.\" She went, but\n the adoration she had showed so openly for her employer seemed to have\n curdled in the last few moments.\n\n\n Crander dug into the files and rooted out photographs. \"Here are\n pictures of the wreckage in which you were found—notice that you were\n strapped in your seat—as you were received into the hospital—at\n various stages in surgery and finally, some taken from the files of the\n company for which you worked.\"\n\n\n Merrol winced. The photographic sequence was incontrovertible. He had\n been a handsome fellow.\n\n\n \"Here is other evidence you may not have heard of. It's a recent\n development, within the last ten years, in fact. It still isn't\n accepted by most courts—they're always lagging—but to medical men\n it's the last word.\"\nMerrol studied the patterns of waves and lines and splotches. \"What is\n it?\"\n\n\n \"Mass-cell radiographs. One was loaned by your employer. The other was\n taken just after your last operation. Both were corrected according\n to standard methods. One cell won't do it, ten yield an uncertain\n identity—but as few as a hundred cells from any part of the original\n body, excepting the blood, constitute proof more positive than\n fingerprints before the surgical exchange of limbs. Don't ask me\n why—no one knows. But it is true that cells differ from one body to\n the next, and this test detects the difference.\"\nThe mass-cell radiographs did seem identical and Dr. Crander seemed\n certain. Taken altogether, the evidence was overwhelming. There had\n been no mistake—he was Dan Merrol, though it was not difficult to\n understand why Erica couldn't believe he was her husband.\n\n\n \"You did a fine job,\" he said. Recalling the picture of the wreckage,\n he knew they had. \"But couldn't you have done just a little better?\"\nCrander's eyebrows bounced up. \"We're amazed at how well we have\n done. You can search case histories and find nothing comparable.\" His\n eyebrows dropped back into place. \"Of course, if you have a specific\n complaint....\"\n\n\n \"Nothing specific. But look at this hand....\"\n\n\n The doctor seized it. \"Beautiful, isn't it?\"\n\n\n \"Perhaps—taken by itself.\" Dan rolled up his sleeve. \"See how it joins\n the forearm.\"\n\n\n Crander waggled it gravely. \"It coordinates perfectly. I've observed\n you have complete control over it. The doctor's eye, my boy. The\n doctor's diagnostic eye.\"\n\n\n The other just didn't understand. \"But the size—it doesn't match my\n arm!\"\n\n\n \"Doesn't\nmatch\n?\" cried the doctor. \"Do you have any idea of the\n biological ways in which it\ndoes\nmatch? True, it may not be\n esthetically harmonized, but here we delve into the mysteries of the\n human organism, and we can hardly be striving for Botticelli bodies and\n Michelangelo men. First, your hand moves freely at the joint, a triumph\n of surgical skill.\" He moved the hand experimentally, to show Merrol\n how it was done. He dropped the hand and hurried to a screen against\n the wall.\n\n\n Crander drew his finger across the surface and the mark remained. \"You\n know about Rh positive and negative blood. Mixed, they can be lethal.\n This was discovered long ago, by someone I've forgotten. But there are\n other factors just as potent and far more complex.\"\n\n\n He scribbled meaningless symbols on the screen with his finger. \"Take\n the bone factors—three. They must be matched in even such a slight\n contact as a joint ... this was done. Then there are the tissue\n factors—four. Tendon factors—two. Nerve-splice factors—three\n again. After that, we move into a complex field, hormone-utilization\n factors—seven at the latest count and more coming up with further\n research.\n\n\n \"That's the beginning, but at the sensory organs we leave the simple\n stuff behind. Take the eye, for instance.\" Merrol leaned away because\n Dr. Crander seemed about to pluck one of Dan's eyes from its socket.\n \"Surgical and growth factors involved in splicing a massive nerve\n bundle pass any layman's comprehension. There are no non-technical\n terms to describe it.\"\nIt was just as well—Merrol didn't want a lecture. He extended his\n arms. One was of normal length, the other longer. \"Do you think you can\n do something with this? I don't mind variation in thickness—some of\n that will smooth out as I exercise—but I'd like them the same length.\"\n\n\n \"There were many others injured at the same time, you know—and you\n were one of the last to be extricated from the ship. Normally, when\n we have to replace a whole arm, we do so at the shoulder for obvious\n reasons. But the previously treated victims had depleted our supplies.\n Some needed only a hand and we gave them just that, others a hand and\n a forearm, and so on. When we got to you, we had to use leftovers or\n permit you to die—there wasn't time to send to other hospitals. In\n fact there wasn't any time at all—we actually thought you were dead,\n but soon found we were wrong.\"\n\n\n Crander stared at a crack in the ceiling. \"Further recovery will take\n other operations and your nervous system isn't up to it.\" He shook his\n head. \"Five years from now, we can help you, not before.\"\n\n\n Merrol turned away miserably. There were other things, but he had\n learned the essentials. He was Dan Merrol and there was nothing they\n could do for him until it was too late. How long could he expect Erica\n to wait?\n\n\n The doctor hadn't finished the medical session. \"Replacement of body\n parts is easy, after all. The big trouble came when we went into the\n brain.\"\n\n\n \"Brain?\" Dan was startled.\n\n\n \"How hard do you think your skull is?\" Crander came closer. \"Bend your\n head.\"\n\n\n Merrol obeyed and could feel the doctor's forefinger slice across his\n scalp in a mock operation. \"This sector was crushed.\" Roughly half his\n brain, it appeared. \"That's why so many memories were gone—not just\n from shock. In addition, other sectors were damaged and had to be\n replaced.\"\n\n\n Crander traced out five areas he could feel, but not see. \"Samuel\n Kaufman, musician—Breed Mannly, cowboy actor—George Elkins,\n lepidopterist—Duke DeCaesares, wrestler—and Ben Eisenberg,\n mathematician, went into the places I tapped.\"\n\n\n Dan raised his head. Some things were clearer. The memories were\n authentic, but they weren't his—nor did the other wives belong to him.\n It was no wonder Erica had cringed at their names.\n\n\n \"These donors were dead, but you can be thankful we had parts of their\n brains available.\" Crander delved into the file and came up with a\n sheet.\n\n\n \"Here are some body part contributors.\" He read rapidly. \"Dimwiddie,\n Barton, Colton, Morton, Flam and Carnera were responsible for arms and\n hands. Greenberg, Rochefault, Gonzalez, Tall-Cloud, Gowraddy and Tsin\n supplied feet and legs.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "How many wives did Dan Merrol have?", "question_unique_id": "51295_JKASXZ9X_1", "options": ["Six", "Two", "Four", "One"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How is doctor Crander sure that this patient is Dan Merrol?", "question_unique_id": "51295_JKASXZ9X_2", "options": ["Mass-cell radiographs match pre- and post-surgery", "Blood work proves matching DNA", "The physical appearance most aligns with the pre-surgery Merrol", "Crander is not sure"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Does Dan Merrol want to make it work with Erica?", "question_unique_id": "51295_JKASXZ9X_3", "options": ["Yes, Dan knows that no one else will love him", "Yes, she seems to Dan to be an excellent wife", "No, he wants to have an open mind to other women", "No, he wants to hide his appearance from everyone"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How was Dan able to explain Wysocki's theorem?", "question_unique_id": "51295_JKASXZ9X_4", "options": ["He did not explain it", "Dr. Crander told him", "One of his previous memories told him", "He made it up"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have happened if Dan had stayed in the hospital until he was discharged?", "question_unique_id": "51295_JKASXZ9X_5", "options": ["They would have replaced the mismatched limbs", "They were never going to discharge him", "They could have proven Wysocki's theorem", "The would have helped both Dan and Erica understand the situation"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Dr. Crander feel about his surgery on Dan?", "question_unique_id": "51295_JKASXZ9X_6", "options": ["He is proud of his accomplishment", "He did well, but not as well as a previous patient", "He wishes that he could have done better", "He is embarrassed of how Dan looks"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "If Dan and Erica had been seen together before the accident, what would people have likely thought?", "question_unique_id": "51295_JKASXZ9X_7", "options": ["She is taller than he is", "He might be abusive due to the bruises on her arm", "They are a good looking couple", "They are a bad looking couple"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do people react to seeing Dan?", "question_unique_id": "51295_JKASXZ9X_8", "options": ["They are uncomfortable because of his appearance", "They laugh because of his appearance", "Thy are afraid because of his appearance", "They do not have any unusual reaction"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/9/51295//51295-h//51295-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20064", "set_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Slate", "title": "Dark Side Lite", "year": "1999", "author": "David Edelstein", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Dark Side Lite \n\n         Those poor souls who've been camping out in front of theaters for six weeks: Who can blame them for saying, \"To hell with the critics, we know it will be great!\"? The doors will open, and they'll race to grab the best seats and feel a surge of triumph as their butts sink down. We've made it: Yeeehaww!! They'll cheer when the familiar John Williams fanfare erupts and the title-- Star Wars Episode 1: The Phantom Menace --rises out of the screen and the backward-slanted opening \"crawl\" begins: \"A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away ...\" Yaaahhhhhhh!!! Then, their hearts pounding, they'll settle back to read the rest of the titles: \"Turmoil has engulfed the Galactic Republic. The taxation of trade routes to outlying star systems is in dispute.\" Taxation of trade routes: Waaahoooo!!!!              \n\n         How long will they go with it? At what point will they realize that what they've heard is, alas, true, that the picture really is a stiff? Maybe they never will. Maybe they'll want to love The \n\n            Phantom Menace so much--because they have so much emotional energy invested in loving it, and in buying the books, magazines, dolls, cards, clothes, soap, fast food, etc.--that the realization will never sink in. In successful hypnosis, the subject works to enter a state of heightened susceptibility, to surrender to a higher power. Maybe they'll conclude that common sense is the enemy of the Force and fight it to the death. \n\n         Look, I wanted to love The Phantom Menace , too. I was an adolescent boy and would enjoy being one again for a couple of hours. But the movie has a way of deflating all but the most delusional of hopes. If someone had given Ed Wood $115 million to remake Plan Nine From Outer Space it might have looked like this, although Wood's dialogue would surely have been more memorable. \n\n         The first thing that will strike you is that George Lucas, who wrote and directed the movie, has forgotten how to write and direct a movie. Having spent the two decades since the original Star Wars (1977) concocting skeletons of screenplays that other people flesh out, and overseeing productions that other people storyboard and stage, he has come to lack what one might Michelangelistically term \"the spark of life.\" If the first Star Wars was a box of Cracker Jacks that was all prizes, The Phantom Menace is a box of Cracker Jacks that's all diagrams of prizes. It's there on paper, but it's waiting to be filled in and jazzed up. \n\n         Advance word has been cruel to the actors, but advance word has it only half right. Yes, they're terrible, but Liam Neeson, Ewan McGregor, and Natalie Portman are not terrible actors, they've just been given scenes that no human could be expected to play. As a sage Jedi Master called Qui-Gon Jinn, Neeson must maintain a Zen-like detachment from the universe around him--probably not a challenge when that universe will be added in later by computers. \"I don't sense anything,\" he tells his uneasy young apprentice, Obi-Wan Kenobi (McGregor), as the two sit waiting to conduct trade negotiations with a bunch of gray, fish-faced Federation officers who talk like extras in a samurai movie. McGregor furrows his brow. \"There's something ... elusive,\" he says, working to enunciate like a young Alec Guinness but succeeding only in nullifying his natural Scots charm. \"Master,\" he adds, \"you said I should be mindful of the future.\" Neeson thinks a bit. \"I do sense an unusual amount of fear for something as trivial as this trade dispute.\" \n\n         A hologram of Darth Sidious, Dark Lord of the \"Sith,\" commands the Federation to sic its battle droids on the Jedi ambassadors before they can apprise Queen Amidala (Portman) of the imminent invasion of the peaceful planet of Naboo. In come the battle droids and out come the light sabers, which still hum like faulty fluorescents. Clack, clack, clack. Lucas can't edit fight scenes so that they're fluid--he cuts on the clack. You get the gist, though. The Jedi make their getaway, but with gas and tolls and droid destroyers, it takes them over an hour to land on Naboo, by which time the queen and the Galactic Senate have already got the grim message. For one thing, communications have been disrupted: \"A communications disruption can mean only one thing,\" says someone. \"Invasion.\" \n\n         Queen Amidala, done up like a white-faced Chinese empress in hanging beads and glass balls and a hat with curly horns, speaks in tones from which emotion has been expunged, perhaps on the theory that subjects won't argue with a ruler who puts them to sleep: \"I ... will ... not ... condone ... a ... course ... of ... action ... that ... will ... lead ... us ... to ... war,\" she drones. Meanwhile, the Jedi whiz through the underwater core of a planet in a man-of-warlike submersible pursued by 3-D dragony beasties and a giant catfish with extra movable parts. Potentially thrilling stuff, but Neeson and McGregor remain peculiarly unruffled. \"The Force will guide us,\" says Neeson blandly, and the director seems to share his lack of urgency. There's Zen detachment and there's Quaalude detachment, and The Phantom                 Menace falls into the second camp: It really does take place a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. When R2-D2 showed up, I thought: At last, a character with the potential for intimacy!              \n\n         Say this for Lucas, he doesn't whip up a lot of bogus energy, the way the makers of such blockbusters as The Mummy (1999) and Armageddon (1998) do. It's as if he conceived The Phantom Menace as a Japanese No pageant and has purposely deadened his actors, directing them to stand stiffly in the dead center of the screen against matte paintings of space or some futuristic metropolis and deliver lines alternately formal or bemusing. (\"This is an odd move for the Trade Federation.\") Lucas considers himself an \"independent\" filmmaker and an artist of integrity. Had he not been such a pretentious overlord, a platoon of screenwriters would doubtless have been engaged to rewrite him and make the movie halfway human. A buddy specialist would have punched up the Qui-Gon Jinn/Obi-Wan Kenobi badinage, and a black dialogue specialist would have given the comic-relief character, Jar Jar Binks, a man-size dinosaur with pop eyes and a vaguely West Indian patois, something fresher than \"Ex-squeeze me!\" and a lot of Butterfly McQueen-style simpering and running away from battles. Those of us who complain about the assembly-line production of \"blockbuster\" scripts need an occasional reminder that assembly lines can do much to make empty thrill machines more lively. \n\n                         The Phantom Menace didn't need to be barren of feeling, but it took a real writer, Lawrence Kasdan ( The Big Chill , 1983), to draft the best and most inspiring of the Star Wars movies, The Empire Strikes Back (1980), and a real director, Irvin Kershner, to breathe Wagnerian grandeur into Lucas' cartoonish fantasies. Having lived with the saga for so many years, the audience was prepared to set aside some of its narrative expectations here to plumb the origins of Lucas' universe. In The Phantom Menace , however, the Jedi already exist and the Force is taken for granted--we're still in the middle of the damn story. The only dramatic interest comes from a young Tatooine slave named Anakin Skywalker (Jake Lloyd), whom we know will grow up to father Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill) and Princess Leia (Carrie Fisher) and then surrender to the dark side of the Force and become Darth Vader. But that transformation won't happen until the third episode; meanwhile, Anakin is a conventionally industrious juvenile with a penchant for building droids from scratch and \"pod racing\"--an activity that he demonstrates in one of the movie's most impressive but irrelevant special effects set pieces, a whiplash hyperdrive permutation of the chariot race in Ben-Hur (1959). \n\n         Later in the film, when Anakin goes before something called the Jedi Council and meets Yoda and Samuel L. Jackson (together again!), Lucas dramatizes the interrogation so ineptly that you either have to take Yoda's word that there's something wrong with the boy (\"Clouded this boy's future is\") or to conclude that Yoda, like us, is moving backward through time and has already seen Episodes 4 through 6. Anakin, he says smugly, has fear in him, and fear leads to anger and anger to the dark side--which would mean, as I interpret it, that only people without fear (i.e., people who don't exist) are suitable candidates for Jedi knighthood (perhaps Yoda will enlarge his definition of fear in subsequent episodes). There's also some quasireligious, quasiscientific blather to the effect that the boy was conceived without a father by \"metachorians\"--symbiont, microscopic life forms that will speak to you if you \"quiet your mind.\" In other words, the Force. So, it's not nebulous, after all! It can be measured. It can be quantified. It can even, perhaps, be merchandised. \n\n         Yes, the effects are first-rate, occasionally breathtaking. But the floating platforms in the Galactic Senate do little to distract you from parliamentary machinations that play like an especially dull day on Star Trek: Deep Space Nine . The final military engagement, in which long-headed attack droids are rolled onto the field as the spokes of a giant wheel, would be awesome if Lucas didn't routinely cut away from the battle just when he seems on the verge of actually thrilling you. The chief villain, bombastically named Darth Maul, is a horned, red, Kabuki-style snake demon with orange pingpong-ball eyes who challenges the Jedi to a couple of clackety light-saber battles. His appearances are underscored by demonic chants; he might as well wear a neon beanie that flashes \"Bad Guy.\" Like all revisionist historians, Lucas cheats like mad. If Darth Vader had built C-3PO as a young man, how come he never paid much attention to him in the other movies--and vice versa? As Yoda himself puts it, in another context, \"See through you we can.\" \n\n          Still, it's worth reprinting a blistering e-mail sent to my wife by a relative, after she'd let him know that I hated The Phantom Menace : \n\n                         Surprise, Surprise. Star Wars was never reviewed well by critics. Sometimes a basic story that rests on great special effects and stupid dialogue can be very entertaining--it's called a cult movie, and no critic can have an effect on the obvious outcome that this is going to be the highest grossing movie ever. I myself stood in line for five hours and already have tickets to see it three times, and I know I'll enjoy it. Why? Because it plays on my childhood imagination. And I'm sure it's not as bad as Return of the Jedi , which was the weakest one--but I still liked it and saw it a dozen times. I get tired of being told I'm not going to like it because it doesn't adhere to certain basic critic criteria. I say bpthhhh (sticking my tongue out to review)--don't be sending me anything dissing my movie:):):)              \n\n         I'll be curious to know whether he sees The Phantom Menace a dozen times, or even the three for which he has paid. (I could imagine seeing it three times only if they sold adrenaline shots at the concession stand.) Or maybe he'll come out of the movie and say: \"No, you didn't get it, Mr. Snot-Nosed-Criteria Critic Person. It's not supposed to be exciting. It's laying the foundation for the next chapter, when Anakin and Obi-Wan defeat the Mandalorian warriors in the Clone Wars and Anakin marries Queen Amidala. And listen, I'm getting in line even earlier for tickets to Episode 2 . The Force is with me, butt-head.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Does the author want his audience to dislike The Phantom Menace?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_1", "options": ["Yes, he is building an argument for why people should not like the movie", "Yes, George Lucas does not deserve for people to like the movie", "No, he is only stating why he thinks movie is bad", "No, he does not want to ruin the excitement of movie-goers"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0043", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the critic likely view as the best part of the movie?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_2", "options": ["Pod racing", "Darth Maul", "Special effects", "R2-D2"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the critic likely feel about the email from his wife's relative?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_3", "options": ["Angry", "Pity", "Frustration", "Happy"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What problem does The Phantom Menace create for Darth Vader's character?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_4", "options": ["\"Metachorians\" change his backstory", "Young Anakin building C-3PO", "Young Anakin pod races", "Young Anakin has fear"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following was a problem with the movie identified by the critic?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_5", "options": ["The acting", "The actors", "The effects", "The setting"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who does the critic blame for the quality of this movie?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_6", "options": ["The actors", "The audience", "The director", "The plot"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "If the critic had to use one word to describe the movie, which of the following would he likely choose?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_7", "options": ["Inaccurate", "Boring", "Irrelevant", "Long"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the critic believe that some people will like The Phantom Menace?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_8", "options": ["He does not believe anyone will like it", "Pod racing", "The effects", "Delusion"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What change does the critic think would have the biggest impact on the quality of the film?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_9", "options": ["Change the setting", "More writers should have worked on the script", "The acting should be better", "Change the primary villain"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What missing component of the movie does the critic reference throughout the entire review?", "question_unique_id": "20064_S6NDI1IS_10", "options": ["Emotion", "Action", "Plot", "The Force"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "20068", "set_unique_id": "20068_KJ4U6NT7", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Slate", "title": " Defining Decay Down", "year": "1999", "author": "David Plotz", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Defining Decay Down \n\n         If you haven't visited a dentist in the past few years, first of all, that's gross. (Checkups are every six months, and don't pretend you forgot.) Second, be grateful that you have avoided the \"intra-oral camera.\" As the dentist (or assistant) navigates this horrifying little gadget through the graveyard of your mouth, a color television magnifies the florid pustulance of your gums and the puke-yellow dinge of your smile. A harmless crevice in your silver-mercury amalgam filling looks like Hell's Canyon. The microcracks in your enamel look like a broken window. All this can be fixed, of course, with 10 grand of straightening, filling, sealing, and whitening. \"You will agree to anything the second they put that thing in your mouth,\" says one recent victim of the camera. \"You can't believe you are walking around with that, that, that ick in your mouth.\" \n\n         The transformation of American dentistry from drill-and-fill to shoot-and-loot is an unlikely business success story of the '90s, a case study in how a profession can work itself out of a job and still prosper. Dentists, after all, are supposed to be extinct by now. While they happily (and profitably) scraped teeth and filled cavities during the '60s and '70s, fluoride was quietly choking off their revenue stream. The percentage of children with cavities fell by half and kept falling. People stopped going to the dentist, because they didn't need to. At the same time, the government funded dental-school construction, spilling new dentists into a saturated market. Many found themselves cleaning teeth for $10 an hour in mall clinics. In 1984, Forbes magazine forecast the end of the profession. Only a few lonely dentists would survive to fill the few remaining cavities, the last vestiges of a once-great civilization on Long Island. \n\n         Instead, the number of dentists has jumped 20 percent, and the average salary soared from $76,000 in 1987 to $124,000 in 1996. What happened? In part, the oversupply of dentists and the declining demand for fillings forced the profession to change. Dentists had to become nicer and visits less unpleasant. The Marathon Man has been replaced by Dr. Soothe. \"People figured out pretty darn quickly that if you were an ass, patients would not come to you,\" says Dr. William Hartel, a St. Louis dentist. Many dentists' offices let you don virtual reality glasses and watch movies on them. Others offer massage therapy and hot tubs. Does your dentist have a certificate of pain management on her wall? I bet she does. \n\n         The most important discovery dentists made was the endless vanity of aging baby boomers. \"We are dealing now with the boomers who are the runners and the joggers and the dieters, and they are very concerned with how they look,\" says American Dental Association President Dr. Timothy Rose. Since going to the dentist was no longer a necessary evil, dentists made it an unnecessary pleasure. They allied themselves with the self-improvement movement. \"You still go for the needs, for the cavity that has to get filled, but more and more people ... come here to feel better about themselves,\" says Dr. Stephen Friedman, a Maryland dentist. \n\n         People used to be happy if they made it to old age with enough choppers to chew. But boomers, lured by media images of the Great American Smile, expect more. According to an ADA poll, the percentage of people who are \"very satisfied\" with their teeth has dropped from 57 percent to 46 percent in the past decade. Dentists have learned to play on this vanity and anxiety, encouraging dental care that is medically unnecessary but attractive to patients. \"It's as if you went to a physician for a treatment for a disease and he said you needed a nose job,\" says Dr. John Dodes, author of Healthy Teeth: A User's Manual . \n\n         To flog $500 teeth whitenings and multi-thousand dollar adult orthodontic treatments, dentists run computer simulations of your whitened, straightened teeth. Tooth color is measured on a scale that starts at A1. \"My dentist showed me these disgusting color charts and told me, 'You're an A2 now, but by the time you want to get married you are going to be an A4. And no one wants to marry an A4,' \" says one woman who got her teeth bleached. Dentists also prod patients to replace perfectly functional gray-metal fillings with tooth-colored plastic ones and to dump their solid gold crowns for white porcelain. Other dentists sell the psychology of tooth appearance. One dentist specializing in porcelain caps advises that male bosses with small teeth seem \"weak.\" \n\n         Some dentists dress up these cosmetic measures in medical scare talk. A friend of mine just quit a dentist who was pressuring him to whiten his teeth as a \"preventive measure.\" (To prevent what? Yellow teeth?) Many dentists claim, without scientific evidence, that the mercury in amalgam fillings is dangerous. They urge patients to replace the excellent amalgam with plastic fillings at four times the price. \n\n         Dentists make a killing on bad breath--or \"halitosis,\" as they prefer to call it. Breath clinics have sprouted up all over the country and are heavily advertised on the Web. They terrify patients with a \"halimeter,\" a new gadget that measures a nasty smelling chemical called methyl mercaptan. Armed with the halimeter proof, the dentist then dangles expensive mouthwashes and tongue scrapers in front of the patient. Never mind that you can get the same results for free with careful brushing and basic tongue-scraping. The machine makes the sale. \"Now that there is this machine that can document your complaint and can put a number on it, it motivates a patient to actually do something about it. But the treatments available now are the same ones that have been available for 15 years,\" says Hartel. \n\n         Entrepreneurial dentists market this elective care with trained aggression. Dental management organizations often require their employees to recite a quasisales script guiding patients toward profitable cosmetics. Ads in the Journal of the American Dental Association and on the Web promote tapes and classes on marketing techniques. One person I know quit his dentist when he spied a pamphlet in the office instructing the dentist in how to get his patients to \"trade up\" to more expensive treatment. The ADA's annual conference is overflowing with seminars on topics such as \"how to move your patients to 'yes.' \" \n\n         The industry calls this technique \"treatment acceptance,\" a marvelous euphemism for parting you from your money. According to the ADA's journal, this year's ADA conference will include an all-day \"Treatment Acceptance\" seminar \"for the dental team that is fed up with patients accepting only what insurance covers or asking for alternative cheaper treatment plans. Involve the entire team in creating the strategies for patients to accept optimum care.\" \n\n         This hard sell is critical in dentistry in a way that it isn't in other medicine because of the profession's brutal economics. Dental insurance covers only 44 percent of Americans (compared to more than 80 percent for health insurance), and provides skimpy coverage for those who do have it. As a result, patients pay most dental costs--about 60 percent of them--out of their own pockets. Dental care is just another way to spend discretionary income, competing with a vacation or a new car. Dentists have to make patients want adult orthodontics in a way physicians don't have to make patients want a quadruple bypass. \n\n         It's tempting to dismiss the whole industry as a scam, particularly when dentists keep coming up with new ailments such as bruxism (teeth grinding), periodontal disease, malocclusion (bad bite), and microcracks. But these ailments are real, and our awareness of them shows how far dentistry has come. A generation ago, dentists filled teeth and cast dentures because that's all they knew. Decay killed so many teeth that fancier problems seldom arose. Since then, researchers have studied bonding, implants, and periodontal disease. Dentists can now make crowns that last forever, bridges that stay anchored, dentures that behave almost like real teeth. A generation ago, implants were a joke. Today's implants, affixed to your jawbone by a titanium screw, can hold for the rest of your life. \n\n         Scientists have learned how bacteria can build up in gaps in the gum, cause infection, weaken the jawbone, and eventually murder teeth. New research links these periodontal bacteria to heart disease, diabetes, low birth-weight babies, and other nastiness you'd expect from bacteria running wild in the bloodstream. This is why your dentist hectors you to rubber-tip your gums, brush with a superconcentrated fluoride toothpaste, and wear a night guard to control your bruxing (which loosens teeth, opening pockets between teeth and gum, etc.). It's also why your dentist may bully you into gum surgery. It all seems unpleasant and slightly absurd--the night guard is \"an excellent form of birth control,\" as one wearer puts it--but the alternative is losing your teeth at 40, getting dentures, and gumming your food. Dentistry is a hassle now because it works. \n\n         \"If you think back a couple of generations, it was considered inevitable that people would lose their teeth when they reached midlife. Around 40 or 45, you would have your teeth taken out. Periodontal disease was not understood, and decay was rampant. But now teeth are resistant to decay and are lasting a lifetime. I have gone in 18 years from learning how to make dentures and thinking it is OK for people to lose teeth to being appalled if anyone loses teeth. It is a failure,\" says Dr. Judith Penski, my own fabulous D.C. dentist. \n\n         Which brings us to the irony of dentistry's comeback: Just as patients love the dental care they should suspect, they resent the care they should appreciate. Aesthetic dentistry is the most profitable segment of the business because it is an easy sell. Put a camera in your mouth and you'll want whiter teeth, too. It is much harder to convince someone to poke her gums every night with a piece of rubber, to sleep with a choking plastic tooth guard, and to undergo four surgeries to fix a gum flap, all for a benefit that is decades away. The very success of dentistry has raised expectations so high that patients now object to any inconvenience. Americans under 60 believe keeping all their teeth is an entitlement: Telling them they need gum surgery to preserve their teeth makes them angry, not grateful--even though those teeth would have been goners 20 years ago. \n\n         When I surveyed 100 friends and acquaintances about their dental complaints, few bitched about cosmetic dentistry that was foisted on them. They like their whiter, straighter teeth. No, they griped about the medically advisable treatments that their dentists prescribed, especially gum surgeries and mouth guards. Pity the poor dentist who abjures cosmetic dentistry but vigorously protects patients' teeth. Patients don't like periodontal treatment, so they suspect it's a rip-off. This could not be further from the truth. \n\n         \"Dentists are aware of providing what patients want,\" says Hartel. \"I had a woman come in with a terrible toothache. She needed a root canal, but she did not want it. But she did want her teeth bleached, and she paid cash for it.\" \n\n         Such is the triumph of American dentists: If they can't sell you what you need, they'll sell you what you want.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which of the following statements is the most true about how the author feels about dentistry?", "question_unique_id": "20068_KJ4U6NT7_1", "options": ["It is a waste of money", "Perfect smiles are important", "Insurance doesn't help enough with the costs", "It is valuable in the right context"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to the article, why do most people value the dentist?", "question_unique_id": "20068_KJ4U6NT7_2", "options": ["Cosmetic reasons", "Medical reasons", "Curing halitosis", "They don't"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are people less satisfied with their smile now than in previous generations?", "question_unique_id": "20068_KJ4U6NT7_3", "options": ["People had nicer smiles in the past", "Plastic implants are not as effective as amalgam fillings", "They aren't", "They have different expectations"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is a real danger to one's health from improper mouth care?", "question_unique_id": "20068_KJ4U6NT7_4", "options": ["Heart disease", "Yellow teeth", "Halitosis", "Crooked smile"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do people now feel about keeping all of their natural teeth?", "question_unique_id": "20068_KJ4U6NT7_5", "options": ["Insecure", "Entitled", "No information provided in the article", "Proud"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the best definition for \"treatment acceptance\"?", "question_unique_id": "20068_KJ4U6NT7_6", "options": ["Optimum care", "Contentment with cheaper treatment plans", "Dental care marketing", "Parting patients with their money"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How can patients improve the dental industry?", "question_unique_id": "20068_KJ4U6NT7_7", "options": ["Pay more out-of-pocket for services", "Follow any advice given by the dentist", "Change values from cosmetic to health", "Get better dental insurance"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did this author likely write this article?", "question_unique_id": "20068_KJ4U6NT7_8", "options": ["To help the reader with a new perspective on dentistry", "To convince the reader to avoid cosmetic dentistry", "To draw attention to the inadequacies of dental insurance", "To motivate the reader to go to the dentist"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "51256", "set_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Cool War", "year": 1971, "author": "Fetler, Andrew", "topic": "Spy stories; Cold War -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "THE COOL WAR\nby ANDREW FETLER\n\n\n Illustrated by NODEL\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction June 1963.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nHere's what happens when two Master\n \nSpies tangle ... and stay that way!\n\"Nothing, nothing to get upset about,\" Pashkov said soothingly, taking\n his friend's arm as they came out of the villa forty miles from Moscow.\n Pashkov looked like a roly-poly zoo attendant leading a tame bear.\n \"Erase his memory, give him a new name and feed him more patriotism.\n Very simple.\"\n\n\n Medvedev raised his hand threateningly. \"Don't come howling to me if\n everybody guesses he is nothing but a robot.\"\n\n\n Pashkov glanced back at the house. Since the publication of\nDentist\n Amigovitch\n, this house had become known all over the world as Boris\n Knackenpast's villa. Now the house was guarded by a company of\n soldiers to keep visitors out. From an open window Pashkov heard the\n clicking of a typewriter.\n\n\n \"It's when they're not like robots that everybody suspects them,\" he\n said, climbing into his flier. \"Petchareff will send you word when to\n announce his 'death'.\"\n\n\n \"A question, brother.\"\n\n\n \"No questions.\"\n\n\n \"Who smuggled the manuscript out of Russia?\"\n\n\n Pashkov frowned convincingly. \"Comrade Petchareff has suspected even\n me.\"\n\n\n He took off for Moscow, poking his flier up through the clouds and\n flying close to them, as was his habit. Then he switched on the radio\n and got Petchareff's secretary. \"Nadezhda?\"\n\n\n \"I know what you're up to, Seven One Three,\" Nadezhda Brunhildova said.\n \"Don't try to fool\nme\n, you confidence man. You are coming in?\"\n\n\n \"In ten minutes. What have I done now?\"\n\n\n \"You were supposed to make funeral arrangements for Knackenpast, so\n what are you doing in Stockholm?\"\n\n\n \"Stockholm?\"\n\n\n \"You're lying and I'll kill you. Don't you think I know about Anastina,\n that she-nurse in the Stockholm National Hospital?\"\n\n\n \"Darling, why so cruel? Anastina is one of our contacts. Besides, she's\n cross-eyed and buck-toothed.\"\n\n\n \"Beast!\" She switched him to Petchareff.\n\n\n \"What's been keeping you, Pashkov?\"\n\n\n \"Consoling Medvedev. Am I supposed to be in Stockholm?\"\n\n\n \"Never mind, get here at once. What size hospital gown do you wear?\"\n\n\n \"Hospital gown?\"\n\n\n \"Stockholm embassy says you're in the National Hospital there. In a\n hospital gown. I got through to Anastina. She says it's Colonel James\n again. He looks like you now.\"\n\n\n Pashkov grunted.\n\n\n \"I'll never understand,\" said Petchareff, \"why all top secret agents\n have to look like bankers. Anastina says Colonel James was operated on\n by a Monsieur Fanti. What do you know about him?\"\n\n\n \"He's a theatrical surgeon.\"\n\n\n \"You're not playing one of your jokes, Pashkov?\"\n\n\n \"Hardly.\"\n\n\n \"You'd better be in my office in ten minutes. What size hospital gown?\"\n\n\n \"Short and fat,\" Pashkov said, and switched off.\n\n\n Most countries wanted to break his neck, and his own Motherland did not\n always trust him. But he enjoyed his work—enjoyed it as much as his\n closest professional rival, Colonel James, U.S.A.\nPashkov landed on the roof of Intelligence in the northeast corner of\n the Kremlin, hitched up his pants and rode down.\n\n\n In his office, Petchareff removed the cigar from his mouth as Pashkov\n came in. \"Medvedev get my orders?\"\n\n\n \"He's preparing a new super-patriotic writer to replace Boris\n Knackenpast,\" Pashkov reported. \"When you give the word, he will call\nIzvestia\nand tell them Boris is dead.\"\n\n\n Petchareff glanced at his calendar. \"We have two other state funerals\n this week. You made it plain, I hope, we want no repetition of\n Knackenpast's peace nonsense?\"\n\n\n \"No more Gandhi or Schweitzer influences. The new literature,\" Pashkov\n promised, raising a chubby finger, \"will be a pearl necklace of\n government slogans.\"\n\n\n Nadezhda buzzed the intercom. \"The man from the Bolshoi Theater is\n here, Comrade.\"\n\n\n \"Send him in.\"\n\n\n A small man hurried into the room. He had a narrow face and the\n mustache of a mouse and a mousy nose, but his eyes were big rabbit\n eyes. He bowed twice quickly, placed a package on the desk with\n trembling forepaws and bowed twice again.\n\n\n Petchareff tore open the package. \"You got the real thing? No bad\n imitation?\"\n\n\n \"Exactly, exactly,\" the mouse piped. \"No difference, Comrade.\" He held\n his paws as in prayer and his pointed mouth quivered.\n\n\n Petchareff held up the hospital gown. On the back of the gown was\n printed in indelible ink:\nstockholm national hospital\n\n courtesy of\n\n Coca-Cola\n\n\n Petchareff tossed the gown to Pashkov. \"This is what Colonel James is\n wearing,\" he said, dismissing the mouse, who bowed twice and scurried\n out.\n\n\n \"Try and split the allies,\" Pashkov muttered, reading the legend on the\n gown.\n\n\n Petchareff blew cigar smoke in his face. \"If Colonel James makes a\n monkey of you once more, you're through, Pashkov. You don't take your\n job seriously enough. You bungle this and I'll have you transferred to\n our Cultural Information Center in Chicago.\"\n\n\n Pashkov winced.\n\n\n \"Now, you'll go to Stockholm and switch places with the American\n colonel and find out what they're up to. Zubov's kidnaping team is\n there already, at Hotel Reisen. Any questions?\"\n\n\n \"I thought Zubov was a zoological warfare expert. What is he doing with\n a kidnaping team?\"\n\n\n \"His team is more agile. On your way.\"\n\n\n In the front office, Pashkov stopped to kiss Nadezhda Brunhildova\n goodby. \"I may not return from this dangerous mission. Give me a tender\n kiss.\"\n\n\n Nadezhda was a big girl with hefty arms, captain of her local broom\n brigade. \"Monster!\" She seized him by the collar. \"Is Anastina\n dangerous?\"\n\n\n \"Darling!\"\n\n\n \"Bitter sweetness!\" she howled, dropping him. \"Go, love. Make me\n miserable.\"\nPashkov spent an hour at Central Intelligence. Nothing unusual going on\n in Stockholm: an industrial exhibit, the Swedish Academy in session,\n a sociology seminar on prison reform, a forty-man trade mission from\n India.\n\n\n An addendum to the Stockholm file listed two Cuban agents operating\n from Fralsningsarmen's Economy Lodgings. They were buying small arms\n and ammunition. He thought a moment, impressed the Cubans' address on\n his memory, and went to his flier.\n\n\n He did not fly to Hotel Reisen at once. Zubov's kidnaping team could\n wait. Coming slowly over Stockholm he spotted the National Hospital and\n circled.\n\n\n A line of ambulance fliers was parked on the ground in the ambulance\n court. On the hospital roof, he noticed, apart from private fliers,\n stood a flier that resembled his own.\n\n\n He veered away, detoured around Riddarholmen, and five minutes later\n landed on the roof of Fralsningsarmen's Economy Lodgings—the Salvation\n Army flophouse.\n\n\n \"My Cuban friends,\" Pashkov inquired in fluent English at the desk on\n the top floor. \"Are they in?\"\n\n\n The old desk clerk looked like a stork. \"Yu, room six fifteen,\" he\n clacked. \"Tree floors down. Aer yu Amerikan?\"\n\n\n \"Brazil.\"\n\n\n \"Ah so? You sprikker goot Inglish laik me.\"\n\n\n \"Very kind of you.\"\n\n\n He rode down three floors, found room 615, and stopped as he heard\n voices within.\n\n\n \"...\ndos, tres, cuatro, cinco, seis, siete\n. By seven o'clock tonight,\n okay, Gringo?\"\n\n\n \"What do you expect for seven thousand bucks—service? Look, boys, I'm\n just a honest businessman. I can't get it for you today. Have a seegar,\n Pablo.\"\n\n\n \"Tfu!\"\n\n\n \"All rightie, your cause is my cause. Maybe I can get it for you\n tonight. But you'll have to pay in advance. What do you say, Francisco?\"\n\n\n \"I counted the money. It is waiting for you. You deliver, we pay.\"\n\n\n \"But how can I trust you? I like you boys, I know you like me, but\n business is business. I gotta give something to my jobber, don't I?\"\n\n\n \"Gringo!\"\n\n\n At that moment Pashkov knocked on the door.\n\n\n From within: \"Shh!\nAlguien llama a la puerta.\n\"\n\n\n Pashkov knocked again and a scuffle ensued within, the crack of a chair\n on a skull, the dragging of a beefy body into a closet, and the slam\n of the closet door.\n\n\n \"\nYu?\n\"\n\n\n \"\nBuenas tardes\n,\" Pashkov said through the door. \"\nAsuntos muy\n importantes.\n\"\n\n\n The door opened a crack and two dark eyes in a young bearded face\n peered out. \"Eh?\"\n\n\n \"\nGospodin Pashkov, para servir a usted.\n\"\n\n\n The door opened enough to admit the roly-poly visitor into the room.\n The other Cuban, also bearded and wearing a fatigue cap, held a\n revolver.\n\n\n \"No gun-play, caballeros,\" Pashkov went on in Spanish. \"We are in the\n Salvation Army charity house, not in a two-peso thriller. Besides, I\n deliver before I ask payment.\"\n\n\n \"Deliver what, senor?\"\n\n\n \"We favor any disturbance close to the United States. May I sit down?\"\n\n\n Between two beds were stacked some dozen crates of explosives. A small\n table was littered with papers.\n\n\n Sitting down at the table, Pashkov's elbow rested on an invoice, and\n moments later the invoice was tucked in his pocket.\n\n\n \"What kind of ammunition do you need, caballeros?\"\n\n\n The Cubans looked at each other. \"Thirty-o-six caliber, two-twenty\n grain. How much can you deliver?\"\n\n\n \"Two thousand rounds.\"\n\n\n \"Not much.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe three thousand. I'll toss in a box of hand grenades and a can of\n lysergic acid diethylamide.\"\n\n\n \"You have that? You have LSD-25?\"\n\n\n \"I have that. When are you leaving Stockholm?\"\n\n\n Again the young beards exchanged looks. \"Maybe we stay till tomorrow\n if you have more business. Three thousand rounds is not much. How much\n payment, senor?\"\n\n\n \"Two thousand kronor,\" Pashkov said, taking an envelope on the table\n and addressing it to Nadezhda Brunhildova, Kremlin, Moscow. No return\n address.\n\n\n \"Do you trust us to send the money?\"\n\n\n \"It is bad for you if I do not trust you,\" Pashkov said, smiling up at\n them.\n\n\n \"You can trust us. We shall send the money. Please take a cigar.\"\n\n\n Pashkov took four Havanas from the box they held out to him, stuck\n three in his breast pocket, and lit one.\n\n\n \"You come again, senor. We make much business.\"\n\n\n \"Why not? Help retire Latin-American dictators to Siberia. More gold in\n Siberia than in Las Vegas.\"\n\n\n \"Hyi, hyi, that is funny. You come again.\"\n\n\n On his way up to the roof, Pashkov studied the invoice he had lifted.\n It was from a manufacturer of sporting arms to Francisco Jesus Maria\n Gonzales, Salvation Army Economy Lodgings. He tucked the invoice into\n his inner pocket with a satisfied grunt, climbed into his flier and\n hopped over to Hotel Reisen, where Zubov's kidnaping team was waiting\n for him.\nComrade Zubov, the kidnaping expert, was pacing the roof of Hotel\n Reisen. As Pashkov eased down in his flier, Zubov's big front tooth\n flashed with delight. Pashkov felt like tossing him a bone.\n\n\n \"Everything in order, Gospodin Pashkov. Constant vigilance maintained\n at hospital by my two assistants. With your pardon, Comrade Petchareff\n urges all haste. Colonel James is due to leave the hospital tomorrow.\"\n\n\n \"Comrade Petchareff always urges haste. What else?\"\n\n\n Zubov's big tooth settled respectfully over his lower lip. His small\n eyes were so closely set that he looked cockeyed when he focused them\n on his superior.\n\n\n \"With your pardon, I shall conduct you to our suite. Plans for\n kidnaping of Colonel James all ready.\"\n\n\n \"Here's a cigar for you.\"\n\n\n \"Gratefully accepted. Reduced unavoidable fatalities to six.\" Zubov\n counted on his long hard fingers. \"Two watchmen, three nurses, one\n doctor.\"\n\n\n In the hotel corridor, Zubov looked before and after, his eyes crossed\n suspiciously, and peered around corners. They got to their suite\n without incident, and Pashkov gave him another cigar.\n\n\n \"Gratefully accepted. Here is a map of hospital and grounds. Here is a\n map of twenty-third floor. Here is a map of Colonel James' room. Here\n is hospital routine between midnight and dawn. With your pardon—\"\n\n\n Pashkov picked up the phone, dialed the Soviet embassy, and got the\n chargé d'affaires. \"How is your underdeveloped countries fund?\" he\n asked.\n\n\n \"Always depleted, always replenished.\"\n\n\n \"I don't want any Russian brands.\"\n\n\n \"Nothing but foreign,\" the chargé buzzed. \"We got almost everything now\n through an American surplus outlet in Hamburg. Nationals get caught\n with American goods, Americans get blamed. Wonderful confusion. What do\n you need?\"\n\n\n \"Thirty-o-six two-twenty, three thousand—if you have it.\"\n\n\n \"Most popular. What else?\"\n\n\n \"Pineapples—one crate.\"\n\n\n \"Only confiscated German potatoes. Will that do?\"\n\n\n \"Fine. And a small can of sentimental caviar.\"\n\n\n \"Too risky.\"\n\n\n \"It's all right. It will fall to local authorities by tomorrow.\"\n\n\n Pashkov put down the receiver. Give the Cubans enough to expect\n more—make sure they stay in town.\nZubov was cross-checking his kidnaping plans. He said, \"With your\n pardon, do we take Colonel James alive or dead-or-alive?\"\n\n\n \"Alive.\"\n\n\n Zubov pulled a long face. \"Dead-or-alive would be easier, Gospodin\n Pashkov. Fast, clean job.\"\n\n\n Pashkov squinted at Zubov's crossed eyes. \"Have you had your eyes\n examined lately?\"\n\n\n \"No need,\" Zubov assured him with a smile. \"I see more than most\n people.\"\n\n\n Pashkov held up his remaining cigar. \"How many cigars in my hand?\"\n\n\n \"Two.\"\n\n\n At that moment the door opened and Zubov's kidnaping team lumbered\n in. They were a couple of big apes dressed in blue canvas shoes, red\n trousers, yellow jackets, white silk scarves, sport caps and sun\n glasses.\n\n\n \"What are you doing here?\" cried Zubov. \"Why aren't you observing the\n hospital?\"\n\n\n \"Dhh, you said to report ... um ... if something happened,\" the first\n ape said in a thick voice.\n\n\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"Victim's room lights out,\" the ape said.\n\n\n \"My assistants,\" Zubov introduced them to Pashkov. \"Line up, line up,\n lads. With your pardon, they are good lads. This is Petya, and this is\n Kolya. No,\nthis\nis Kolya and this one is Petya.\"\n\n\n \"Twins?\"\n\n\n \"Not exactly. Same genetic experiment. Good lads. Stand straight,\n Petya. Don't curl your feet like that, Kolya, I've told you before. Why\n didn't you shave your hands today?\"\n\n\n Kolya looked guiltily at his hands.\n\n\n \"They've made progress,\" Zubov assured Pashkov, pulling a small whip\n from his hip pocket. \"Straight, lads, straight,\" he flicked the whip.\n \"We have company.\"\n\n\n \"Are their costumes your own idea?\"\n\n\n \"With your pardon, for purposes of concealment. What are your orders?\"\n\n\n Pashkov told them to pick up the boxes of ammunition at the embassy and\n deliver them to the Cubans, and then to commandeer a private automobile.\n\n\n \"We have autos at the embassy pool,\" Zubov suggested.\n\n\n \"I want a vehicle off the street. Then report back here with your\n lads.\"\n\n\n Petya gave Kolya a box on the ear.\n\n\n \"Boys, boys!\" Zubov cracked the whip. \"Out you go. A job for Gospodin\n Pashkov, lads. They don't get enough exercise,\" he grinned, backing out\n after them. \"With your pardon, I'll thrash them later.\"\n\n\n And they were gone. Pashkov turned to the hospital maps and studied\n them before taking a nap.\nShortly before dawn, Zubov's team returned, their mission accomplished.\n\n\n \"With your pardon, an excellent Mercedes,\" Zubov reported.\n\n\n Pashkov had changed into the hospital gown with the Coca-Cola legend on\n the back. He glanced at his watch. It was four o'clock in the morning.\n\n\n He tossed his bundle of clothing to the first ape. \"Take my flier back\n to Moscow, Kolya lad. Give my clothes to Nadezhda Brunhildova, and tell\n Comrade Petchareff to expect Colonel James today.\"\n\n\n Clutching the bundle, Kolya stuck his tongue out at Petya and bounded\n out of the room. They waited at the window until they saw Kolya take\n off in Pashkov's flier. Then they made their way down the service\n stairs to the alley, Pashkov dressed only in the hospital gown; got\n into the stolen Mercedes and drove to the National Hospital, all three\n leaning forward.\n\n\n In the ambulance court, Zubov and Petya moved quickly to a Red Cross\n flier. Pashkov dropped the invoice he had lifted from the Cubans on the\n front seat of the stolen car, and followed.\n\n\n A watchman emerged from his hut, looked idly up at the rising\n ambulance, and shuffled back to his morning coffee.\n\n\n As Petya brought the flier to a hovering stop against Colonel James'\n window, Pashkov bounced into the room; Zubov drew his gun and jumped in\n after.\n\n\n Colonel James awoke, turned on the night lamp, and sat up in the bed,\n his eyes blinking.\n\n\n Pashkov stood looking at Colonel James. The resemblance between them\n was remarkable. Zubov's eyes were crossed with astonishment.\n\n\n \"My dear Gospodin Pashkov!\" Colonel James greeted him in Russian,\n yawning. \"How kind of you to visit me. Do sit down.\" Not only was his\n Russian good; his voice was a good imitation of Pashkov's voice.\n\n\n \"You're not really sick?\" Pashkov asked, sitting down on the bed.\n\n\n \"Not physically. But imagine my psychological condition. When I look\n in the mirror—\" The colonel shuddered.\n\n\n \"I hope your sacrifice won't be permanent?\" Pashkov said.\n\n\n \"That would be too much. How is my Russian? The truth, now.\"\n\n\n \"Excellent. Put up your gun, Zubov. Colonel James and I don't get to\n talk very often.\"\n\n\n \"And a pity we don't. Good manners accomplish more than an opera full\n of cloaks and daggers. Cigarette?\"\n\n\n \"Gratefully accepted,\" Zubov said, slipping his gun into its holster\n with a flourish.\n\"Your treatment is over, then?\" Pashkov asked. \"You are ready for your\n assignment?\"\n\n\n \"Ready.\"\n\n\n \"And that is?\"\n\n\n \"Delicate, very delicate. I must report to the Palace this morning.\"\n\n\n \"Shall I kidnap him now?\" Zubov interrupted, puffing conceitedly on his\n cigarette.\n\n\n \"Mind your language, Zubov. May I ask, Colonel—do you want me to think\n I am falling into a trap?\"\n\n\n \"No, no, my friend. I am only doing my best not to show my surprise at\n seeing you again.\" The colonel got out of bed and sat down on Pashkov's\n other side.\n\n\n \"Zubov will make your trip to Moscow comfortable. All right, Zubov.\"\n\n\n Zubov focused his crossed eyes on Pashkov.\n\n\n \"Take him straight to Petchareff,\" Colonel James said to Zubov. \"I'll\n report as soon as I know what these Swedes are up to.\"\n\n\n Zubov seized Pashkov by the scruff of the neck and dragged him towards\n the window.\n\n\n \"Hold your claws, Zubov lad,\" Pashkov said. \"You have got the wrong\n man, can't you see?\nThat\nis Colonel James.\"\n\n\n \"Eh?\"\n\n\n \"Use your eyes, blockhead.\nI\nam Pashkov.\"\n\n\n Zubov did use his eyes. He looked from one to the other, and back. The\n more he focused, the more his eyes crossed. \"Eh?\"\n\n\n Colonel James sat calmly on the bed. He said, \"Carry him out.\"\n\n\n Zubov lifted Pashkov off the floor, crashed with his weight against the\n wall, but held on, grinned and staggered with Pashkov in his arms to\n the window.\n\n\n \"You miserable idiot,\" Pashkov shouted. \"You'll get a rest cure for\n this!\"\n\n\n Zubov dropped him, pulled his gun and backed off into a corner. \"How\n can I tell you two apart just by looking!\" he cried hysterically. \"I'm\n not a learned man.\"\n\n\n \"One small but decisive proof,\" Pashkov said, unbuttoning his hospital\n gown. \"I have a mole.\"\n\n\n Zubov yanked the colonel up by an arm. \"Send\nme\nto rest cures, will\n you?\"\n\n\n Colonel James sighed. \"I guess we have to keep up appearances,\" he\n muttered, and climbed out the window into the hovering ambulance. Zubov\n leaped in after, and they were off.\nThe suit of clothes hanging in the closet might have been Pashkov's\n own, identical with the clothes Kolya had taken to Moscow not an hour\n before. Even the underwear had facsimiles of the Order of Lenin sewn in.\n\n\n Satisfied, he crawled into the bed and fell into a pleasant snooze.\n\n\n He was awakened by the nurse, Anastina Bjorklund—alias Anastasia\n Semionovna Bezumnaya, formerly of the Stakhanovite Booster's Committee,\n Moscow Third Worker's District.\n\n\n \"Wonderful morning, Colonel James!\"\n\n\n Petchareff seldom let one agent know what another was doing.\n\n\n She put a big breakfast tray on Pashkov's lap. \"Cloudy, damp, and\n windy. London stock market caves in, race riots in South Africa, famine\n in India, earthquake in Japan, floods in the United States, general\n strike in France, new crisis in Berlin. I ask you, what more can an\n idealist want?\"\n\n\n \"Good morning, Miss Bjorklund.\"\n\n\n The breakfast tray was crammed with a liter of orange juice, four\n boiled eggs, six slices of bacon, four pancakes, two pork chops, four\n slices of toast, a tumbler of vodka, a pot of coffee and two cigars.\n\n\n \"Ah, Colonel,\" Anastina said as Pashkov fell to, \"why did you let them\n change your face? It does not become you at all.\"\n\n\n \"Part of my job. Don't you think I am more handsome now?\"\n\n\n Anastina laughed shrilly. \"That bulbous nose handsome? What woman could\n fall in love with a nose like that?\"\n\n\n \"It shows determination. I wish I had this nose permanently.\"\n\n\n \"You mustn't talk like that. But I'll ignore your nose if you tell me\n more about White Sands Proving Grounds, as you promised.\"\n\n\n \"With pleasure, with pleasure,\" he said, sinking his teeth into a pork\n chop, having seasoned the chop with the soft-boiled egg yolk. \"But\n right now I'm in a hurry to get to the Palace. Give my shoes an extra\n shine, there's a good girl.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, you and your secrets!\"\n\n\n An hour later, Pashkov landed on the Palace roof in Colonel James'\n flier—an exact copy of his own flier. The Palace roof captain stared\n at him, then smiled nervously.\n\n\n \"They are waiting for you in the Gustavus room, Colonel.\"\n\n\n \"Colonel? Do I still look like Colonel James?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, no, sir.\"\n\n\n \"Do I talk like Colonel James?\"\n\n\n \"You've changed completely, sir. If I didn't know, I would swear you\n were the notorious Gospodin Pashkov.\"\n\n\n \"I am Gospodin Pashkov now, Captain. To everybody.\"\n\n\n \"Of course, sir. I'll ring down you are coming.\"\n\n\n Pashkov glanced at his watch. Colonel James would be landing in Moscow\n about now and taken to Comrade Petchareff for questioning.\n\n\n A manservant in velvet cutaways, patent leather shoes and white gloves,\n escorted Pashkov through rooms hung with chandeliers, tapestries,\n paintings. Pashkov entered the last room and stopped as the door\n clicked shut behind him.\nIn the room were three men, all of whom he recognized: Professor\n Kristin of the Swedish Academy, a white-haired old man with a kind,\n intelligent face; the king, Gustavus IX, a thin old man stroking his\n Vandyke, sitting under a portrait of Frederick the Great; and Monsieur\n Fanti, the make-up surgeon.\n\n\n Pashkov bowed his head. \"Your majesty. Gentlemen.\"\n\n\n \"Extraordinary!\" Professor Kristin said.\n\n\n Pashkov turned to the surgeon. \"Monsieur, should my face have such a\n frivolous expression?\"\n\n\n M. Fanti raised his eyebrows, but did not answer.\n\n\n \"I thought,\" said Pashkov, \"that Gospodin Pashkov's face has a more\n brutal look.\"\n\n\n \"Propaganda,\" said the artist. But he came closer and looked at\n Pashkov's face with sudden interest.\n\n\n Professor Kristin said, \"Colonel James, we presume you have studied\n the problem in detail. I'm afraid we have delayed announcing the Nobel\n prize for literature much too long. How soon can you bring Boris\n Knackenpast to Stockholm?\"\n\n\n So there it was: Boris Knackenpast a supreme success, as Pashkov had\n suspected. It would be amusing to tell robotist Medvedev about it.\n\n\n \"Delicate, very delicate,\" Pashkov said. \"Everything depends on my not\n running into Gospodin Pashkov.\"\n\n\n \"We can't wait any longer,\" Professor Kristin said. \"Fortunately, we\n have an ally in the enemy camp. The robotist, Medvedev, is expecting\n you at Knackenpast's villa.\"\n\n\n \"Bad show,\" M. Fanti said suddenly. \"No good. His left cheekbone is at\n least four centimeters too high.\"\n\n\n The men looked at the surgeon, then at Pashkov.\n\n\n M. Fanti fingered Pashkov's cheekbone. \"How could I have made such a\n mistake! Just look at him. People laugh at such faces.\"\n\n\n \"How much time to correct the error then, Monsieur Fanti?\" the king\n asked.\n\n\n \"A week at least. His skin needs a rest. I must rework the whole left\n side of his face—it's all lopsided.\"\n\n\n \"But we can't spare a week,\" Professor Kristin said.\n\n\n \"With your majesty's permission,\" Pashkov offered, \"I am willing to go\n as I am. Indeed, my plans call for immediate departure.\"\n\n\n \"It is a good thing you do for us, Colonel James,\" Gustavus IX said,\n \"and a courageous thing. Please accept our thanks.\"\n\n\n Professor Kristin saw Pashkov to the door. \"One suggestion, Colonel.\n Your r's are still too soft for a real Russian. Why do you Americans\n slur them like that? And I beg you, if you value your life, do not fail\n to watch your fricatives.\"\nThe roof captain saluted as Pashkov stepped out of the lift. His flier\n was serviced and ready.\n\n\n \"What weather in Moscow, Captain?\"\n\n\n \"Ceiling four thousand. We're having patrols half way out to sea. They\n are instructed to let you pass.\"\n\n\n A small incident, the roof captain explained. A Swedish Red Cross flier\n was missing from the National Hospital. Two Cuban agents had been\n arrested and a cache of small arms and ammunition was found. But no\n trace of the ambulance.\n\n\n \"I suppose the Cubans deny stealing the ambulance?\" Pashkov asked.\n\n\n \"They say they've been framed by a fat little Russian. But it's\n transparent, a clumsy job. Imagine, they left a stolen car in the\n ambulance court and in it an invoice for six cases of ammunition. It\n was traced to the Cubans in half an hour.\"\n\n\n Pashkov climbed into his flier. \"Well, it's fashionable to blame the\n Russians for everything.\" He waved his chubby hand, and took off.\n Flying over the Baltic, he set the controls on the Moscow beam.\n\n\n Ten minutes west of Moscow he tuned the communicator in on Petchareff's\n office.\n\n\n \"Seven One Three here, Nadezhda. Tell Petchareff—no, let me talk to\n him.\"\n\n\n \"Seven One ... but that's impossible! Gospodin Pashkov is in conference\n with Comrade Petchareff.\"\n\n\n \"Stupid!\" Petchareff's voice sounded behind Nadezhda's, and the speaker\n clicked and went dead.\n\n\n Pashkov dove into the clouds and brought his flier to a hovering stop.\n\n\n Petchareff did not believe he was Pashkov. Colonel James, it was clear,\n was at that moment in Petchareff's office, impersonating Pashkov. And\n Zubov was probably getting a rest cure.\n\n\n Pashkov crawled out of the cloud and skimmed northeast to Mir, Boris\n Knackenpast's villa.\n\n\n \"You came fast, sir,\" the lieutenant of guards welcomed him at Mir. \"We\n did not expect you for another fifteen minutes.\"\n\n\n Fifteen minutes. The colonel was not wasting time.\n\n\n \"Listen carefully, lieutenant.\" Pashkov described the American agent.\n \"But his left cheekbone is lower than mine—about four centimeters. He\n may be armed, so be careful.\"\n\n\n The lieutenant stared. \"Shall we kill him?\"\n\n\n \"No, no. Put him in a cage.\"\n\n\n As Pashkov ran up the steps to the villa, the curtain in the vestibule\n window stirred. But when he entered, the vestibule was empty.\n\n\n He looked in the dining room, the music room, the library. Nobody.\n The house was strangely quiet. He came to the door of the study and\n listened. Not a sound. He went in and there, behind the large writing\n desk, sat Boris Knackenpast.\n\n\n The robot was unscrewing screws imbedded in his neck.\n\n\n \"My God, sir,\" said Pashkov, \"what are you doing?\"\nThe robot's eyes, large disks of glittering mirror, flashed as he\n looked up. \"Ah, Colonel James,\" Boris said in a voice that seemed to\n come from a deep well. \"Excuse the poor welcome, but I understand we\n have little time. You scared my valet; he thought you were Gospodin\n Pashkov.\"\nThe door burst open and Medvedev rushed in, the old valet at his heels.\n Medvedev stopped, gaped, then seized Pashkov's hand. \"Colonel James!\n What an artist, that Monsieur Fanti. But quick, Boris, Pashkov is on\n his way.\"\n\n\n Boris pulled off his head, and crawled out of the robot shell. Pashkov\n saw Boris as he really was, a tall human with a gaunt, ascetic face.\n\n\n The sad thing about us, thought Pashkov, is that Medvedev could not\n trust even me. But then I could not trust Medvedev, either. Yes, that's\n the trouble with us.\n\n\n \"I hope you need no luggage, Mister Knackenpast,\" Pashkov said. \"We\n must be off at once.\"\n\n\n \"Too late!\" the old valet said from the window.\n\n\n Colonel James had landed. But as he climbed down from his flier, the\n guards closed a circle about him.\n\n\n \"He'll keep,\" Pashkov said, hitching up his pants. \"Let's be off,\n Mister Knackenpast. It won't take long for Petchareff to smell us out.\"\n\n\n \"Look!\"\n\n\n The guards fell back from the flier and snapped to attention. Chewing\n on his cigar furiously, out stepped Petchareff.\n\n\n Zubov leaped out next, his big front tooth flashing. Then his two\n assistants, Petya and Kolya, tumbled out in their coats and hats. Last\n of all to emerge from the flier was Nadezhda Brunhildova.\n\n\n \"Pretend not to know me, will he?\" she yelled at Colonel James, picking\n up a rock.\n\n\n \"Hold it, citizenress,\" Colonel James said.\n\n\n \"Citizenress, is it?\" The rock flew over his head and felled Zubov.\n\n\n \"I warned you both, no kitchen squabbles while on duty,\" Petchareff\n roared. He snapped an order to the lieutenants of guards, and the\n guards surrounded the house.\n\n\n \"No alarm, no alarm,\" Pashkov said, pulling Boris away from the window.\n \"Mister Knackenpast, when you see your way clear to my flier, run for\n it. But get back into your robot costume.\"\n\n\n \"I can't operate the machine.\"\n\n\n \"I'll be right behind you. The rest of us will go out to Petchareff.\"\n\n\n As they came out, Petchareff was reviving Zubov by slapping his face.\n The kidnaping expert lay stretched cold on the ground, and Nadezhda\n Brunhildova stood by, holding the rock and weeping.\n\n\n Colonel James said, \"There he is, the American spy.\"\n\n\n Petchareff looked up as Pashkov was led forward by the guards. \"Not\n bad,\" Petchareff said. \"We could use Monsieur Fanti. What's his price?\"\n\n\n \"Don't you know me, chief? Me, Pashkov.\"\n\n\n \"Curse me,\" Nadezhda said, staring at him. \"Another Pashkov.\"\n\n\n A terrible howl came from Zubov. Petya and Kolya, imitating\n Petchareff's efforts to revive their master, were battering Zubov's\n face with their slouched hats.\n\n\n \"Stand back!\" Kolya screamed, smashing his hat into Zubov's face. \"He\n is trying to say something!\"\n\n\n \"He's moving!\" Petya kicked Zubov and looked up for approval, his hair\n standing up like spikes.\n\n\n Petchareff slapped Kolya's face and crushed the glowing end of his\n cigar on Petya's forehead. The apes reeled back to a tree.\nPashkov whispered to Colonel James.\n\n\n \"Capitalist hell and damnation, now I can't tell them apart myself,\"\n Petchareff said. \"Zubov!\"\n\n\n \"Hhng?\"\n\n\n \"Which one's the real Pashkov?\"\n\n\n \"Hhng?\"\n\n\n But Colonel James was running to the flier, throwing Nadezhda's rock at\n Petchareff and running.\n\n\n \"Grenade!\" Pashkov yelled, and flung himself to the ground.\n\n\n At the same moment Boris Knackenpast ran from the house to the flier,\n his robot gear clattering like Don Quixote's armor.\n\n\n The guards scattered and dove for cover.\n\n\n \"Down, lads! Grenade!\" Pashkov yelled.\n\n\n The two apes took up the cry, \"Grenade, grenade!\" and flattened\n themselves behind the tree.\n\n\n Nadezhda and Medvedev collided, digging in behind the valet.\n\n\n Only Petchareff remained standing. \"Stop the robot!\"\n\n\n Nobody moved.\n\n\n Boris reached the flier, Colonel James pulled him in, the engine\n hummed, and they were off. A moment later the flier vanished in the\n clouds towards Stockholm.\n\n\n Petchareff relit his cigar. \"Tfui, tastes of monkey hair.\"\n\n\n Medvedev shambled over. \"Was the grenade a dud?\"\n\n\n \"One of these days I'll catch you, Pashkov,\" Petchareff spat. \"Your\n deviousness, that's one thing. It could be useful. But your levity—\"\n\n\n \"Darling!\" Nadezhda threw on Pashkov.\n\n\n \"Not in public,\" Pashkov said.\n\n\n \"Wait a minute,\" Petchareff said. \"Nadezhda Brunhildova, how do you\n know he really is Pashkov? If he's actually Colonel James, I can shoot\n him summarily. He\ndoes\nlook like Colonel James to me.\"\n\n\n \"But if you're mistaken?\" Medvedev put in nervously.\n\n\n \"We all make mistakes,\" Petchareff said. \"What would history be without\n mistakes?\"\n\n\n \"I don't trust him either,\" Nadezhda said. \"But I know my Pashkov. If\n he's not Pashkov, I shall let you know in the morning.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Pashkov sell small arms to the Cubans?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_1", "options": ["It was actually Colonel James who sold small arms to the Cubans", "He wanted to use them as a scapegoat for his own plans", "He wanted to help another Communist country", "He wanted the Cubans to cause trouble for the Americans"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What best describes the relationship between Pashkov and Colonel James?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_2", "options": ["They are enemies", "They have no relationship", "They respect each other", "They are the same person"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Zubov a comedic and ironic character for this story?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_3", "options": ["He is cross-eyed", "He kidnaps people", "He trains animals", "He is dumb"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is a rest cure?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_4", "options": ["A drug", "A vacation", "A punishment", "A weapon"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following best describes the relationship between Pashkov and Nadezhda Brunhildova?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_5", "options": ["They have no relationship", "They are friends", "They are enemies", "They are lovers"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following best describes the tone of this story?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_6", "options": ["Serious", "Romantic", "Comedic", "Scary"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Colonel James get away at the end?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_7", "options": ["He hid in a robot costume", "He threw a rock", "He did not get away", "He threw a grenade"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Colonel James' mission?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_8", "options": ["Impersonate Pashkov to gain information", "Capture Pashkov", "Kill Boris Knackenpast", "Get Boris Knackenpast to Sweden"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Boris Knackenpast's great accomplishment?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_9", "options": ["Evading capture by the Americans", "Evading capture by the Russians", "Pretending to be a robot", "Nobel prize for literature"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why isn't Pashkov angry with Medvedev?", "question_unique_id": "51256_MZNDC998_10", "options": ["Medvedev is too talented for Pashkov to be angry with him", "Pashkov likes Boris too much", "Pashkov is dishonest too", "Petchareff ordered Pashkov to hide his feelings"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0029", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/1/2/5/51256//51256-h//51256-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "50826", "set_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Moons of Mars", "year": 1958, "author": "Evans, Dean", "topic": "Martians -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; Science fiction; Detective and mystery stories", "article": "THE MOONS OF MARS\nBy DEAN EVANS\n\n\n Illustrated by WILLER\n\n\n [Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Galaxy Science Fiction September 1952.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nEvery boy should be able to whistle, except,\n \nof course, Martians. But this one did!\nHe seemed a very little boy to be carrying so large a butterfly net. He\n swung it in his chubby right fist as he walked, and at first glance you\n couldn't be sure if he were carrying it, or it carrying\nhim\n.\n\n\n He came whistling. All little boys whistle. To little boys, whistling\n is as natural as breathing. However, there was something peculiar about\n this particular little boy's whistling. Or, rather, there were two\n things peculiar, but each was related to the other.\n\n\n The first was that he was a Martian little boy. You could be very sure\n of that, for Earth little boys have earlobes while Martian little boys\n do not—and he most certainly didn't.\n\n\n The second was the tune he whistled—a somehow familiar tune, but one\n which I should have thought not very appealing to a little boy.\n\n\n \"Hi, there,\" I said when he came near enough. \"What's that you're\n whistling?\"\n\n\n He stopped whistling and he stopped walking, both at the same time, as\n though he had pulled a switch or turned a tap that shut them off. Then\n he lifted his little head and stared up into my eyes.\n\n\n \"'The Calm',\" he said in a sober, little-boy voice.\n\n\n \"The\nwhat\n?\" I asked.\n\n\n \"From the William Tell Overture,\" he explained, still looking up at me.\n He said it deadpan, and his wide brown eyes never once batted.\n\n\n \"Oh,\" I said. \"And where did you learn that?\"\n\n\n \"My mother taught me.\"\n\n\n I blinked at him. He didn't blink back. His round little face still\n held no expression, but if it had, I knew it would have matched the\n title of the tune he whistled.\n\n\n \"You whistle very well,\" I told him.\n\n\n That pleased him. His eyes lit up and an almost-smile flirted with the\n corners of his small mouth.\n\n\n He nodded grave agreement.\n\n\n \"Been after butterflies, I see. I'll bet you didn't get any. This is\n the wrong season.\"\n\n\n The light in his eyes snapped off. \"Well, good-by,\" he said abruptly\n and very relevantly.\n\n\n \"Good-by,\" I said.\n\n\n His whistling and his walking started up again in the same spot where\n they had left off. I mean the note he resumed on was the note which\n followed the one interrupted; and the step he took was with the left\n foot, which was the one he would have used if I hadn't stopped him.\n I followed him with my eyes. An unusual little boy. A most precisely\nmechanical\nlittle boy.\n\n\n When he was almost out of sight, I took off after him, wondering.\n\n\n The house he went into was over in that crumbling section which forms\n a curving boundary line, marking the limits of those frantic and ugly\n original mine-workings made many years ago by the early colonists. It\n seems that someone had told someone who had told someone else that\n here, a mere twenty feet beneath the surface, was a vein as wide as\n a house and as long as a fisherman's alibi, of pure—\npure\n, mind\n you—gold.\n\n\n Back in those days, to be a colonist meant to be a rugged individual.\n And to be a rugged individual meant to not give a damn one way or\n another. And to not give a damn one way or another meant to make one\n hell of a mess on the placid face of Mars.\n\n\n There had not been any gold found, of course, and now, for the most\n part, the mining shacks so hastily thrown up were only fever scars\n of a sickness long gone and little remembered. A few of the houses\n were still occupied, like the one into which the Martian boy had just\n disappeared.\n\n\n So his\nmother\nhad taught him the William Tell Overture, had she?\n That tickling thought made me chuckle as I stood before the ramshackle\n building. And then, suddenly, I stopped chuckling and began to think,\n instead, of something quite astonishing:\n\n\n How had it been possible for her to teach, and for him to whistle?\nAll Martians are as tone-deaf as a bucket of lead.\nI went up three slab steps and rapped loudly on the weather-beaten door.\nThe woman who faced me may have been as young as twenty-two, but\n she didn't look it. That shocked look, which comes with the first\n realization that youth has slipped quietly away downstream in the\n middle of the night, and left nothing but frightening rocks of middle\n age to show cold and gray in the hard light of dawn, was like the\n validation stamp of Time itself in her wide, wise eyes. And her voice\n wasn't young any more, either.\n\n\n \"Well? And what did I do now?\"\n\n\n \"I beg your pardon?\" I said.\n\n\n \"You're Mobile Security, aren't you? Or is that badge you're wearing\n just something to cover a hole in your shirt?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I'm Security, but does it have to mean something?\" I asked. \"All\n I did was knock on your door.\"\n\n\n \"I heard it.\" Her lips were curled slightly at one corner.\n\n\n I worked up a smile for her and let her see it for a few seconds before\n I answered: \"As a matter of fact, I don't want to see\nyou\nat all. I\n didn't know you lived here and I don't know who you are. I'm not even\n interested in who you are. It's the little boy who just went in here\n that I was interested in. The little Martian boy, I mean.\"\n\n\n Her eyes spread as though somebody had put fingers on her lids at the\n outside corners and then cruelly jerked them apart.\n\n\n \"Come in,\" she almost gasped.\n\n\n I followed her. When I leaned back against the plain door, it closed\n protestingly. I looked around. It wasn't much of a room, but then you\n couldn't expect much of a room in a little ghost of a place like this.\n A few knickknacks of the locality stood about on two tables and a\n shelf, bits of rock with streak-veins of fused corundum; not bad if you\n like the appearance of squeezed blood.\n\n\n There were two chairs and a large table intended to match the chairs,\n and a rough divan kind of thing made of discarded cratings which had\n probably been hauled here from the International Spaceport, ten miles\n to the West. In the back wall of the room was a doorway that led dimly\n to somewhere else in the house. Nowhere did I see the little boy. I\n looked once again at the woman.\n\n\n \"What about him?\" she whispered.\n\n\n Her eyes were still startled.\n\n\n I smiled reassuringly. \"Nothing, lady, nothing. I'm sorry I upset you.\n I was just being nosy is all, and that's the truth of it. You see, the\n little boy went by me a while ago and he was whistling. He whistles\n remarkably well. I asked him what the name of the tune was and he told\n me it was the 'Calm' from William Tell. He also told me his mother had\n taught him.\"\n\n\n Her eyes hadn't budged from mine, hadn't flickered. They might have\n been bright, moist marbles glued above her cheeks.\n\n\n She said one word only: \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing,\" I answered. \"Except that Martians are supposed to be\n tone-deaf, aren't they? It's something lacking in their sense of\n hearing. So when I heard this little boy, and saw he was a Martian, and\n when he told me his\nmother\nhad taught him—\" I shrugged and laughed a\n little. \"Like I said before, I guess I got just plain nosy.\"\n\n\n She nodded. \"We agree on that last part.\"\n\n\n Perhaps it was her eyes. Or perhaps it was the tone of her voice. Or\n perhaps, and more simply, it was her attitude in general. But whatever\n it was, I suddenly felt that, nosy or not, I was being treated shabbily.\n\n\n \"I would like to speak to the Martian lady,\" I said.\n\n\n \"There isn't any Martian lady.\"\n\n\n \"There\nhas\nto be, doesn't there?\" I said it with little sharp\n prickers on the words.\n\n\n But she did, too: \"\nDoes there?\n\"\n\n\n I gawked at her and she stared back. And the stare she gave me was hard\n and at the same time curiously defiant—as though she would dare me to\n go on with it. As though she figured I hadn't the guts.\n\n\n For a moment, I just blinked stupidly at her, as I had blinked stupidly\n at the little boy when he told me his mother had taught him how to\n whistle. And then—after what seemed to me a very long while—I slowly\n tumbled to what she meant.\n\n\n Her eyes were telling me that the little Martian boy wasn't a little\n Martian boy at all, that he was cross-breed, a little chap who had a\n Martian father and a human, Earthwoman mother.\n\n\n It was a startling thought, for there just aren't any such mixed\n marriages. Or at least I had thought there weren't. Physically,\n spiritually, mentally, or by any other standard you can think of,\n compared to a human male the Martian isn't anything you'd want around\n the house.\n\n\n I finally said: \"So that is why he is able to whistle.\"\n\n\n She didn't answer. Even before I spoke, her eyes had seen the correct\n guess which had probably flashed naked and astounded in my own eyes.\n And then she swallowed with a labored breath that went trembling down\n inside her.\n\n\n \"There isn't anything to be ashamed of,\" I said gently. \"Back on Earth\n there's a lot of mixtures, you know. Some people even claim there's no\n such thing as a pure race. I don't know, but I guess we all started\n somewhere and intermarried plenty since.\"\n\n\n She nodded. Somehow her eyes didn't look defiant any more.\n\n\n \"Where's his father?\" I asked.\n\n\n \"H-he's dead.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry. Are you all right? I mean do you get along okay and\n everything, now that...?\"\n\n\n I stopped. I wanted to ask her if she was starving by slow degrees and\n needed help. Lord knows the careworn look about her didn't show it was\n luxurious living she was doing—at least not lately.\n\n\n \"Look,\" I said suddenly. \"Would you like to go home to Earth? I could\n fix—\"\n\n\n But that was the wrong approach. Her eyes snapped and her shoulders\n stiffened angrily and the words that ripped out of her mouth were not\n coated with honey.\n\n\n \"Get the hell out of here, you fool!\"\n\n\n I blinked again. When the flame in her eyes suddenly seemed to grow\n even hotter, I turned on my heel and went to the door. I opened it,\n went out on the top slab step. I turned back to close the door—and\n looked straight into her eyes.\n\n\n She was crying, but that didn't mean exactly what it looked like it\n might mean. Her right hand had the door edge gripped tightly and she\n was swinging it with all the strength she possessed. And while I still\n stared, the door slammed savagely into the casing with a shock that\n jarred the slab under my feet, and flying splinters from the rotten\n woodwork stung my flinching cheeks.\n\n\n I shrugged and turned around and went down the steps. \"And that is the\n way it goes,\" I muttered disgustedly to myself. Thinking to be helpful\n with the firewood problem, you give a woman a nice sharp axe and she\n immediately puts it to use—on you.\n\n\n I looked up just in time to avoid running into a spread-legged man who\n was standing motionless directly in the middle of the sand-path in\n front of the door. His hands were on his hips and there was something\n in his eyes which might have been a leer.\n\"Pulled a howler in there, eh, mate?\" he said. He chuckled hoarsely\n in his throat. \"Not being exactly deaf, I heard the tail end of it.\"\n His chuckle was a lewd thing, a thing usually reserved—if it ever\n was reserved at all—for the mens' rooms of some of the lower class\n dives. And then he stopped chuckling and frowned instead and said\n complainingly:\n\n\n \"Regular little spitfire, ain't she? I ask you now, wouldn't you think\n a gal which had got herself in a little jam, so to speak, would be more\n reasonable—\"\n\n\n His words chopped short and he almost choked on the final unuttered\n syllable. His glance had dropped to my badge and the look on his face\n was one of startled surprise.\n\n\n \"I—\" he said.\n\n\n I cocked a frown of my own at him.\n\"Well, so long, mate,\" he grunted, and spun around and dug his toes\n in the sand and was away. I stood there staring at his rapidly\n disappearing form for a few moments and then looked back once more at\n the house. A tattered cotton curtain was just swinging to in the dirty,\n sand-blown window. That seemed to mean the woman had been watching. I\n sighed, shrugged again and went away myself.\n\n\n When I got back to Security Headquarters, I went to the file and began\n to rifle through pictures. I didn't find the woman, but I did find the\n man.\n\n\n He was a killer named Harry Smythe.\n\n\n I took the picture into the Chief's office and laid it on his desk,\n waited for him to look down at it and study it for an instant, and then\n to look back up to me. Which he did.\n\n\n \"So?\" he said.\n\n\n \"Wanted, isn't he?\"\n\n\n He nodded. \"But a lot of good that'll do. He's holed up somewhere back\n on Earth.\"\n\n\n \"No,\" I said. \"He's right here. I just saw him.\"\n\n\n \"\nWhat?\n\" He nearly leaped out of his chair.\n\n\n \"I didn't know who he was at first,\" I said. \"It wasn't until I looked\n in the files—\"\n\n\n He cut me off. His hand darted into his desk drawer and pulled out an\n Authority Card. He shoved the card at me. He growled: \"Kill or capture,\n I'm not especially fussy which. Just\nget\nhim!\"\n\n\n I nodded and took the card. As I left the office, I was thinking of\n something which struck me as somewhat more than odd.\n\n\n I had idly listened to a little half-breed Martian boy whistling part\n of the William Tell Overture, and it had led me to a wanted killer\n named Harry Smythe.\nUnderstandably, Mr. Smythe did not produce himself on a silver platter.\n I spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to get a lead on him and\n got nowhere. If he was hiding in any of the places I went to, then he\n was doing it with mirrors, for on Mars an Authority Card is the big\n stick than which there is no bigger. Not solely is it a warrant, it is\n a commandeer of help from anyone to whom it is presented; and wherever\n I showed it I got respect.\n\n\n I got instant attention. I got even more: those wraithlike tremblings\n in the darker corners of saloons, those corners where light never seems\n quite to penetrate. You don't look into those. Not if you're anything\n more than a ghoul, you don't.\n\n\n Not finding him wasn't especially alarming. What was alarming, though,\n was not finding the Earthwoman and her little half-breed Martian son\n when I went back to the tumbledown shack where they lived. It was\n empty. She had moved fast. She hadn't even left me a note saying\n good-by.\n\n\n That night I went into the Great Northern desert to the Haremheb\n Reservation, where the Martians still try to act like Martians.\n\n\n It was Festival night, and when I got there they were doing the dance\n to the two moons. At times like this you want to leave the Martians\n alone. With that thought in mind, I pinned my Authority Card to my\n lapel directly above my badge, and went through the gates.\n\n\n The huge circle fire was burning and the dance was in progress.\n Briefly, this can be described as something like the ceremonial dances\n put on centuries ago by the ancient aborigines of North America. There\n was one important exception, however. Instead of a central fire, the\n Martians dig a huge circular trench and fill it with dried roots of the\nbelu\ntree and set fire to it. Being pitch-like, the gnarled fragments\n burn for hours. Inside this ring sit the spectators, and in the exact\n center are the dancers. For music, they use the drums.\n\n\n The dancers were both men and women and they were as naked as Martians\n can get, but their dance was a thing of grace and loveliness. For an\n instant—before anyone observed me—I stood motionless and watched\n the sinuously undulating movements, and I thought, as I have often\n thought before, that this is the one thing the Martians can still do\n beautifully. Which, in a sad sort of way, is a commentary on the way\n things have gone since the first rocket-blasting ship set down on these\n purple sands.\n\n\n I felt the knife dig my spine. Carefully I turned around and pointed my\n index finger to my badge and card. Bared teeth glittered at me in the\n flickering light, and then the knife disappeared as quickly as it had\n come.\n\n\n \"Wahanhk,\" I said. \"The Chief. Take me to him.\"\n\n\n The Martian turned, went away from the half-light of the circle. He led\n me some yards off to the north to a swooping-tent. Then he stopped,\n pointed.\n\n\n \"Wahanhk,\" he said.\n\n\n I watched him slip away.\n\n\n Wahanhk is an old Martian. I don't think any Martian before him has\n ever lived so long—and doubtless none after him will, either. His\n leathery, almost purple-black skin was rough and had a charred look\n about it, and up around the eyes were little plaits and folds that had\n the appearance of being done deliberately by a Martian sand-artist.\n\n\n \"Good evening,\" I said, and sat down before him and crossed my legs.\n\n\n He nodded slowly. His old eyes went to my badge.\n\n\n From there they went to the Authority Card.\n\n\n \"Power sign of the Earthmen,\" he muttered.\n\n\n \"Not necessarily,\" I said. \"I'm not here for trouble. I know as well as\n you do that, before tonight is finished, more than half of your men\n and women will be drunk on illegal whiskey.\"\n\n\n He didn't reply to that.\n\n\n \"And I don't give a damn about it,\" I added distinctly.\n\n\n His eyes came deliberately up to mine and stopped there. He said\n nothing. He waited. Outside, the drums throbbed, slowly at first, then\n moderated in tempo. It was like the throbbing—or sobbing, if you\n prefer—of the old, old pumps whose shafts go so tirelessly down into\n the planet for such pitifully thin streams of water.\n\n\n \"I'm looking for an Earthwoman,\" I said. \"This particular Earthwoman\n took a Martian for a husband.\"\n\n\n \"That is impossible,\" he grunted bitterly.\n\n\n \"I would have said so, too,\" I agreed. \"Until this afternoon, that is.\"\n\n\n His old, dried lips began to purse and wrinkle.\n\n\n \"I met her little son,\" I went on. \"A little semi-human boy with\n Martian features. Or, if you want to turn it around and look at the\n other side, a little Martian boy who whistles.\"\n\n\n His teeth went together with a snap.\n\n\n I nodded and smiled. \"You know who I'm talking about.\"\n\n\n For a long long while he didn't answer. His eyes remained unblinking on\n mine and if, earlier in the day, I had thought the little boy's face\n was expressionless, then I didn't completely appreciate the meaning of\n that word. Wahanhk's face was more than expressionless; it was simply\n blank.\n\n\n \"They disappeared from the shack they were living in,\" I said. \"They\n went in a hurry—a very great hurry.\"\n\n\n That one he didn't answer, either.\n\n\n \"I would like to know where she is.\"\n\n\n \"Why?\" His whisper was brittle.\n\n\n \"She's not in trouble,\" I told him quickly. \"She's not wanted. Nor her\n child, either. It's just that I have to talk to her.\"\n\n\n \"Why?\"\n\n\n I pulled out the file photo of Harry Smythe and handed it across to\n him. His wrinkled hand took it, pinched it, held it up close to a lamp\n hanging from one of the ridge poles. His eyes squinted at it for a long\n moment before he handed it back.\n\n\n \"I have never seen this Earthman,\" he said.\n\n\n \"All right,\" I answered. \"There wasn't anything that made me think you\n had. The point is that he knows the woman. It follows, naturally, that\n she might know him.\"\n\n\n \"This one is\nwanted\n?\" His old, broken tones went up slightly on the\n last word.\n\n\n I nodded. \"For murder.\"\n\n\n \"Murder.\" He spat the word. \"But not for the murder of a Martian, eh?\n Martians are not that important any more.\" His old eyes hated me with\n an intensity I didn't relish.\n\n\n \"You said that, old man, not I.\"\n\n\n A little time went by. The drums began to beat faster. They were\n rolling out a lively tempo now, a tempo you could put music to.\n\n\n He said at last: \"I do not know where the woman is. Nor the child.\"\n\n\n He looked me straight in the eyes when he said it—and almost before\n the words were out of his mouth, they were whipped in again on a\n drawn-back, great, sucking breath. For, somewhere outside, somewhere\n near that dancing circle, in perfect time with the lively beat of the\n drums, somebody was whistling.\n\n\n It was a clear, clean sound, a merry, bright, happy sound, as sharp\n and as precise as the thrust of a razor through a piece of soft yellow\n cheese.\n\n\n \"In your teeth, Wahanhk! Right in your teeth!\"\n\n\n He only looked at me for another dull instant and then his eyes slowly\n closed and his hands folded together in his lap. Being caught in a lie\n only bores a Martian.\n\n\n I got up and went out of the tent.\nThe woman never heard me approach. Her eyes were toward the flaming\n circle and the dancers within, and, too, I suppose, to her small son\n who was somewhere in that circle with them, whistling. She leaned\n against the bole of a\nbelu\ntree with her arms down and slightly\n curled backward around it.\n\n\n \"That's considered bad luck,\" I said.\n\n\n Her head jerked around with my words, reflected flames from the circle\n fire still flickering in her eyes.\n\n\n \"That's a\nbelu\ntree,\" I said. \"Embracing it like that is like looking\n for a ladder to walk under. Or didn't you know?\"\n\n\n \"Would it make any difference?\" She spoke softly, but the words came to\n me above the drums and the shouts of the dancers. \"How much bad luck\n can you have in one lifetime, anyway?\"\n\n\n I ignored that. \"Why did you pull out of that shack? I told you you had\n nothing to fear from me.\"\n\n\n She didn't answer.\n\n\n \"I'm looking for the man you saw me talking with this morning,\" I went\n on. \"Lady, he's wanted. And this thing, on my lapel is an Authority\n Card. Assuming you know what it means, I'm asking you where he is.\"\n\n\n \"What man?\" Her words were flat.\n\n\n \"His name is Harry Smythe.\"\n\n\n If that meant anything to her, I couldn't tell. In the flickering light\n from the fires, subtle changes in expression weren't easily detected.\n\n\n \"Why should I care about an Earthman? My husband was a Martian. And\n he's dead, see? Dead. Just a Martian. Not fit for anything, like all\n Martians. Just a bum who fell in love with an Earthwoman and had the\n guts to marry her. Do you understand? So somebody murdered him for it.\n Ain't that pretty? Ain't that something to make you throw back your\n head and be proud about? Well, ain't it? And let me tell you, Mister,\n whoever it was, I'll get him.\nI'll get him!\n\"\n\n\n I could see her face now, all right. It was a twisted, tortured thing\n that writhed at me in its agony. It was small yellow teeth that bared\n at me in viciousness. It was eyes that brimmed with boiling, bubbling\n hate like a ladle of molten steel splashing down on bare, white flesh.\n Or, simply, it was the face of a woman who wanted to kill the killer of\n her man.\n\n\n And then, suddenly, it wasn't. Even though the noise of the dance and\n the dancers was loud enough to command the attention and the senses. I\n could still hear her quiet sobbing, and I could see the heaving of the\n small, thin shoulders.\n\n\n And I knew then the reason for old Wahanhk's bitterness when he had\n said to me, \"But not for the murder of a Martian, eh? Martians are not\n that important any more.\"\n\n\n What I said then probably sounded as weak as it really was: \"I'm sorry,\n kid. But look, just staking out in that old shack of yours and trying\n to pry information out of the type of men who drifted your way—well, I\n mean there wasn't much sense in that, now was there?\"\n\n\n I put an arm around her shoulders. \"He must have been a pretty nice\n guy,\" I said. \"I don't think you'd have married him if he wasn't.\"\n\n\n I stopped. Even in my own ears, my words sounded comfortless. I looked\n up, over at the flaming circle and at the sweat-laved dancers within\n it. The sound of the drums was a wild cacophonous tattoo now, a rattle\n of speed and savagery combined; and those who moved to its frenetic\n jabberings were not dancers any more, but only frenzied, jerking\n figurines on the strings of a puppeteer gone mad.\n\n\n I looked down again at the woman. \"Your little boy and his butterfly\n net,\" I said softly. \"In a season when no butterflies can be found.\n What was that for? Was he part of the plan, too, and the net just the\n alibi that gave him a passport to wander where he chose? So that he\n could listen, pick up a little information here, a little there?\"\n\n\n She didn't answer. She didn't have to answer. My guesses can be as good\n as anybody's.\n\n\n After a long while she looked up into my eyes. \"His name was Tahily,\"\n she said. \"He had the secret. He knew where the gold vein was. And\n soon, in a couple of years maybe, when all the prospectors were gone\n and he knew it would be safe, he was going to stake a claim and go\n after it. For us. For the three of us.\"\n\n\n I sighed. There wasn't, isn't, never will be any gold on this planet.\n But who in the name of God could have the heart to ruin a dream like\n that?\nNext day I followed the little boy. He left the reservation in a cheery\n frame of mind, his whistle sounding loud and clear on the thin morning\n air. He didn't go in the direction of town, but the other way—toward\n the ruins of the ancient Temple City of the Moons. I watched his chubby\n arm and the swinging of the big butterfly net on the end of that arm.\n Then I followed along in his sandy tracks.\n\n\n It was desert country, of course. There wasn't any chance of tailing\n him without his knowledge and I knew it. I also knew that before long\n he'd know it, too. And he did—but he didn't let me know he did until\n we came to the rag-cliffs, those filigree walls of stone that hide the\n entrance to the valley of the two moons.\n\n\n Once there, he paused and placed his butterfly net on a rock ledge and\n then calmly sat down and took off his shoes to dump the sand while he\n waited for me.\n\n\n \"Well,\" I said. \"Good morning.\"\n\n\n He looked up at me. He nodded politely. Then he put on his shoes again\n and got to his feet.\n\n\n \"You've been following me,\" he said, and his brown eyes stared\n accusingly into mine.\n\n\n \"I have?\"\n\n\n \"That isn't an honorable thing to do,\" he said very gravely. \"A\n gentleman doesn't do that to another gentleman.\"\n\n\n I didn't smile. \"And what would you have me do about it?\"\n\n\n \"Stop following me, of course, sir.\"\n\n\n \"Very well,\" I said. \"I won't follow you any more. Will that be\n satisfactory?\"\n\n\n \"Quite, sir.\"\n\n\n Without another word, he picked up his butterfly net and disappeared\n along a path that led through a rock crevice. Only then did I allow\n myself to grin. It was a sad and pitying and affectionate kind of grin.\n\n\n I sat down and did with my shoes as he had done. There wasn't any\n hurry; I knew where he was going. There could only be one place, of\n course—the city of Deimos and Phobos. Other than that he had no\n choice. And I thought I knew the reason for his going.\n\n\n Several times in the past, there have been men who, bitten with the\n fever of an idea that somewhere on this red planet there must be gold,\n have done prospecting among the ruins of the old temples. He had\n probably heard that there were men there now, and he was carrying out\n with the thoroughness of his precise little mind the job he had set\n himself of finding the killer of his daddy.\n\n\n I took a short-cut over the rag-cliffs and went down a winding,\n sand-worn path. The temple stones stood out barren and dry-looking,\n like breast bones from the desiccated carcass of an animal. For a\n moment I stopped and stared down at the ruins. I didn't see the boy. He\n was somewhere down there, though, still swinging his butterfly net and,\n probably, still whistling.\n\n\n I started up once more.\n\n\n And then I heard it—a shrill blast of sound in an octave of urgency; a\n whistle, sure, but a warning one.\n\n\n I stopped in my tracks from the shock of it. Yes, I knew from whom it\n had come, all right. But I didn't know why.\n\n\n And then the whistle broke off short. One instant it was in the air,\n shrieking with a message. The next it was gone. But it left tailings,\n like the echo of a death cry slowly floating back over the dead body of\n the creature that uttered it.\n\n\n I dropped behind a fragment of the rag-cliff. A shot barked out\n angrily. Splinters of the rock crazed the morning air.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which of the following is not a difference between Martians and Earthpeople?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_1", "options": ["Martians don't care about dishonesty", "Martians have different ears", "Martians have tribal ceremonies", "Martians can't carry a tune"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the woman in the shack treat the protagonist poorly?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_2", "options": ["She does not trust him", "He is threatening her", "She thinks he killed her husband", "He is racist against Martians"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does the boy likely carry a net?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_3", "options": ["To try to catch butterflies", "To defend himself", "To help him whistle", "To look like he is catching butterflies"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is most true about Harry Smythe?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_4", "options": ["He is infamous", "He does not like the protagonist", "He is hiding on Earth", "He is a Martian"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where is the gold in Mars?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_5", "options": ["There is no gold in Mars", "Under the Haremheb Reservation", "In the city of Deimos and Phobos", "Prospectors mined it already"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the protagonist feel about the woman from the shack?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_6", "options": ["Suspicious", "Angry", "Sympathetic", "Romantic"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is not true about the crossbreed boy?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_7", "options": ["He has not caught any butterflies", "He can whistle well", "His kind is common", "He misses his dad"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do the Martians likely feel about the protagonist and his role?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_8", "options": ["Confusion", "Pride", "Attraction", "Resentment"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0035", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did one of the Martians pull a knife on the protagonist?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_9", "options": ["He insulted the Chief by calling him a liar", "He was bothering the woman and her son", "He did not respect their traditions", "He was not welcome at their Festival"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the colonization of Mars help the Martians?", "question_unique_id": "50826_K0FBX2G8_10", "options": ["The colonizers brought their culture", "The colonizers left their advanced technology", "The colonizers did not help the Martians", "The colonizers found gold for the Martians"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/0/8/2/50826//50826-h//50826-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "20077", "set_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124", "batch_num": "21", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Slate", "title": "Grand Finale", "year": "2000", "author": "David Edelstein", "topic": "Periodicals; Specialized Magazine; Media Coverage", "article": "Grand Finale \n\n         Mike Leigh's \n\n               Topsy-Turvy                 broadly recounts the creation of Gilbert and Sullivan's comic opera The Mikado at London's Savoy Theatre in 1885. Perhaps \"broadly\" is putting too fine a point on it. The first hour, in which Arthur Sullivan (Allan Corduner) attempts to sever his ties with W.S. Gilbert (Jim Broadbent) and the owner of the Savoy, Richard D'Oyly Carte (Ron Cook), is a mess: The order of scenes feels arbitrary, and characters pop up and vanish with bewildering frequency. You might be tempted to vanish, too. (Friends of mine did.) Be patient. Leigh's movies, born of actors' improvisations and loosely shaped, always take a while to find their rhythm--and, frequently, their point. This one finds everything. By the end of its two hours and 40 minutes, Topsy-Turvy has evolved into something extraordinary: a monument to process--to the minutiae of making art. And to something more: the fundamental sadness of people who labor to make beautiful things--who soar--and then come down to a not-so-beautiful earth. \n\n         It would be charitable to attribute the shapelessness of the early scenes to the characters' own lack of focus, but it would also be inane. As Elvis Mitchell pointed out in \n\n               Slate                's \",\" Leigh's opening shot features an usher who moves along a row of the Savoy Theatre lifting and peering under every seat. That's every seat. You can almost hear Leigh cackling: \"How's this for a fast start?--you bourgeois slaves to narrative.\" Inevitably, something does happen: Princess Ida , one of Gilbert and Sullivan's duds, has its premiere, and Gilbert fumes over a review that calls him the monarch of \"topsy-turvydom\"--of formulaic plots involving magical elixirs and coins. A heat wave has hit London, theater attendance is down, and Sullivan is itching to go off and become the English Mendelssohn--to write operas and symphonies instead of comic \"soufflés.\" Leigh evidently loves the bloodless formality of the scenes between Gilbert and Sullivan, men of opposite tastes and temperaments who only overlap in their work. He must also love that those scenes are narrative dead ends: \"How's this for conflict?--you bourgeois slaves to melodrama.\" \n\n         The wake-up call comes an hour into the movie. Gilbert attends a popular exposition of Japanese culture at Knightsbridge and watches Kabuki routines and women in kimonos pouring green tea (\"spinach water\"). When a Japanese sword he has purchased falls off his wall, he hefts it; mimes a fight while issuing strangled, samurailike cries; then has a brainstorm. We hear the horns of The Mikado overture, then Leigh cuts to the fully realized opening scene on stage at the Savoy: \"We are gentlemen of Japan …\" Just that chorus is enough to reanimate the audience--to make people sit up and grin. And Leigh's technique of leaping back and forth between the finished Mikado and painstaking scenes of rehearsal has magic in it: You're watching straw, then gold, then straw, then gold. And you see the connection. \n\n         A central section of the drama is missing. What exactly fired Sullivan up about doing The Mikado ? What was different about this collaboration? No answer. Topsy-Turvy turns into something other than the Gilbert and Sullivan story: a portrait of life in the theater. A group portrait. D'Oyly Carte becomes a quiet third protagonist, a humane businessman. He softly negotiates a salary increase with the company's lead comic (Martin Savage), a neurasthenic junkie. He gently seeks the assurance of a tipsy ingénue (the tremulous Shirley Henderson) that her \"little weakness\" will not re-emerge. In the dressing room, performers gossip and complain, drink and shoot themselves up with drugs. Leigh's ensemble casts strive to be \"microcosms\" of society, so issues of class are ever present. You see it in Sullivan's banter with the working-class musicians in the pit and in Gilbert's with the uppity actors (the movie's posturing middle class), whom he drills on pronunciation and poise. The chorus is presented as some sort of collective folk conscience when it lobbies Gilbert to restore the rashly cut solo (\"A more humane Mikado never did in Japan exist\") of the sad, fat fellow (Timothy Spall) in the title role. \n\n         Who would have predicted that Leigh would make Gilbert and Sullivan into Mike Leigh characters? Gilbert could be a stand-in for Leigh himself--a haughty, ill-humored man with an obsession for tiny details and a glowering dedication to process. Gilbert haggles with his actors over small things that shouldn't resonate but which somehow add up. Leigh's small things add up, too. The joke of The Mikado is that its Japanese lords are thinly disguised English bureaucrats; the joke of Topsy-Turvy is that the opera's English performers seem culturally incapable of playing Japanese. They rehearse in long coats and top hats, and some of the women (and men!) express horror at appearing on stage without corsets. Behind the satire, however, is a reverence for Gilbert and Sullivan: The tempos are slower than modern audiences are used to, and the staging has been stripped of high-camp accretions. I saw a D'Oyly Carte production of The Mikado in the late '70s: It was played fast and to the groundlings and made me never want to see a G&S opera again. Now I can't wait for the next production. \n\n         Only a lunatic would call Topsy-Turvy , with its lame first hour and host of loose ends, a masterpiece, but by the finale I was ready to have myself committed. The finale itself must have done it. Leigh's endings are often wondrous, and this one is up there with the rooftop scene in High Hopes (1988). The Mikado is a triumph--it would be the Savoy's biggest hit--but there's no transformation in the lives of its makers. Gilbert can't bring himself to reach out to his brokenhearted wife (Lesley Manville), and Sullivan has a melancholy inkling that he has reached his artistic peak. The ingénue, Leonora, is drinking again, toasting herself in the mirror and praising the loveliness of Nature--a Nature that will, of course, destroy her. The final image is of Art: Leonora on stage singing Yum-Yum's sublime \"The sun whose rays are all ablaze …\" As Leigh's camera pulls back over the orchestra and the audience, this movie feels like one of the saddest and loveliest tributes to the lives of artists ever made. Topsy-Turvy leaves you upside down and breathless. \n\n         Like Mike Leigh, Errol Morris rarely begins a project with a clear idea of what he wants it to be. Sometimes he doesn't end a project with a clear idea of what he wants it to be, either. His newest documentary, \n\n               Mr. Death : The Rise and Fall of Fred D. Leuchter, Jr.                , kicks up all sorts of messy emotions that his coolly ironic technique can't begin to handle. \n\n         The director is in his weird element only in the first half-hour, in which he sits his subject down and gets out of his way. Leuchter, who looks a little like the archetypal movie dweeb Charles Martin Smith and has a heavy exurbs-of-Boston accent, explains how he became involved in redesigning problematic electric chairs. \"Excess current cooks the tissue,\" he says, barely suppressing a smirk at his own expertise. \"There've been occasions where a great amount of current has been applied, and the meat actually will come off the executee's bone like the meat coming off a cooked chicken.\" Leuchter set about making capital punishment more \"humane.\" He moves on to talking about his redesigns for lethal-injection systems, gas chambers, and even a gallows, while underneath, Caleb Sampson provides macabre funhouse music and wistful calliope waltzes. Morris' distance from his subject implies condescension--Leuchter looks like something in a jar. But that's OK, because the man is an interesting specimen. Is he a monster or a humanist committed to eliminating the \"deplawrable tawchaw\" of capital punishment? It could go either way. \n\n         M r. Death gets into deeper waters when it recounts the trial of Ernst Zundel in Canada for proclaiming that the Holocaust never happened. Zundel hired Leuchter to go to Auschwitz and examine the \"alleged\" gas chambers: Footage (taken by Zundel's cameraman) shows the little man chiseling at walls, vandalizing what even he admits are international shrines. Leuchter smuggled specimens of rock and concrete back to the United States, where chemical analysis revealed no cyanide gas. Furthermore, Leuchter can't figure out how the gas would even have been administered without killing the Nazis themselves--proof, he argues, that mass extermination at Auschwitz never took place. The subsequent \"Leuchter Report\" became the backbone of Zundel's defense (he lost anyway) and of the burgeoning revisionist movement led by David Irving. But if Leuchter became a hero to neo-Nazis, he also became a target of Jewish groups and a pariah even in the execution business. When Morris hooks up with him for the last time, he's in hiding from creditors. \n\n         Is Leuchter a raving anti-Semite or a pathetic pawn who thrived on having--for the first time in his life--a bit of celebrity? The film suggests the latter. It certainly produces no evidence of malice. Plenty of monstrous insensitivity and hubris, though. Morris uses the Dutch historian Robert Jan van Pelt as a counternarrator: He calls Leuchter \"a fffool \" who didn't have a clue what to look for in a place that had changed enormously in 50 years. \"If he had spent time in the archives,\" says van Pelt, \"he would have found evidence about ventilation systems, ways to introduce Zyclon B into these buildings--but of course I don't think he knows German so it wouldn't have helped very much.\" The most devastating rebuttal is from the chemist in charge of the Auschwitz analysis, who explains that the gas wouldn't have penetrated more than 10 microns into the wall (a human hair is 100 microns thick), so by crushing the samples (standard procedure), he had effectively diluted the cyanide 100,000 times. Against all this, Morris shows footage of Leuchter chiseling at Auschwitz and even adds some of his own, along with slow-motion shots of hammers bashing rocks, walls, floors, etc. It's an obscenity. \n\n         After my rage at Leuchter had subsided, I began to get angry at Morris for aestheticizing that violation--turning it into an ironic art object. The director's beautiful detachment suggests a kind of cowardice. His technique is based on standing back--maintaining a fixed distance--while his subjects hang themselves, and for a while that works stunningly. But at a certain point, isn't it only human to want to engage this man? You don't need to play Mike Wallace and demolish Leuchter on camera. You could just ask him what he makes of, say, van Pelt's assertion that the answer to the riddle of the gas chambers was all over the archives, or what he thought of the chemist's declaration that the test performed for cyanide was the wrong test. Morris can be heard asking one question only: \"Have you ever thought you might be wrong or that you made a mistake?\"--sufficiently broad that Leuchter can casually affirm his own inanity. \n\n         My concern here isn't so much for Leuchter or even the Holocaust revisionists, who'll just think he was sandbagged. The problem is that when a documentary filmmaker seems too scared or cool or arty to violate his own immaculate aesthetic, he ends up weakening his case. He also provides no emotional release, which isn't a small matter when the subject is Holocaust denial. Morris was close enough to Leuchter to have gotten something more, to have gone a little deeper in search of a poison that does penetrate surfaces.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Does the author think that Topsy-Turvy is a good movie?", "question_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124_1", "options": ["Yes, the end redeems the rest of the movie", "Yes, the entire movie is excellent", "No, the beginning is a mess", "No, there are too many loose ends"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0042", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Does the author think that Mr. Death: The Rise and Fall of Fred D. Leuchter, Jr. is a good documentary?", "question_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124_2", "options": ["No, the emotional tone of the movie is too removed", "No, the entire movie is insensitive", "Yes, the beginning sets the stage to study an excellent specimen in Leuchter", "Yes, it correctly paints Leuchter in a negative light"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to the author, what is Topsy-Turvy about?", "question_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124_3", "options": ["It is about the relationship between Gilbert and Sullivan", "It is about the lives of artists", "It is about English actors playing Japanese characters", "It is about the details of the creation of The Mikado"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Does Morris dislike Leuchter?", "question_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124_4", "options": ["No, Leuchter is innocent", "No, Leuchter is just a subject to study", "Yes, Leuchter defiled Auschwitz", "Yes, Leuchter is an anti-Semite"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does they author write about these two different movies within the same article?", "question_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124_5", "options": ["The movies have a similar theme", "The directors have a similar process", "The directors worked together", "The movies have similar criticisms"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following is shared between Topsy-Turvy and Mr. Death?", "question_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124_6", "options": ["Plot structure", "Character behavior", "Cultural insensitivity", "Primary theme"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following did Topsy-Turvy do better than Mr. Death?", "question_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124_7", "options": ["Exposition", "Narrative tension", "Accuracy of subject matter", "Emotional release"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Leigh likely feel about Gilbert and Sullivan?", "question_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124_8", "options": ["Resentment", "Disdain", "Neutral", "Great respect"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0006", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is Leuchter a hero to neo-Nazis?", "question_unique_id": "20077_1BWEF124_9", "options": ["He chiseled the walls of Auschwitz", "He tried to disprove the genocide of the Holocaust", "He advocates for better capital punishment practices", "He doesn't like Jewish people"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0045", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0007", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0008", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0029", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "", "license": "https://www.anc.org/OANC/license.txt"}
{"article_id": "22073", "set_unique_id": "22073_H4OMDMMI", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Repairman", "year": 1968, "author": "Harrison, Harry", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; PS; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction", "article": "The Repairman\nBy Harry Harrison\nIllustrated by Kramer\nBeing an interstellar trouble shooter wouldn’t be so bad …\n if I could shoot the trouble!\n\n\n The\n Old Man had that look of intense glee on his face that meant someone\n was in for a very rough time. Since we were alone, it took no great feat\n of intelligence to figure it would be me. I talked first, bold attack\n being the best defense and so forth.\n\n\n “I quit. Don’t bother telling me what dirty job you have\n cooked up, because I have already quit and you do not want to reveal\n company secrets to me.”\n\n\n The grin was even wider now and he actually chortled as he thumbed a\n button on his console. A thick legal document slid out of the delivery\n slot onto his desk.\n\n\n “This is your contract,” he said. “It tells how and\n when you will work. A steel-and-vanadium-bound contract that you\n couldn’t crack with a molecular disruptor.”\n\n\n I leaned out quickly, grabbed it and threw it into the air with a single\n motion. Before it could fall, I had my Solar out and, with a wide-angle\n shot, burned the contract to ashes.\n\n\n The Old Man pressed the button again and another contract slid out on\n his desk. If possible, the smile was still wider now.\n\n\n “I should have said a\n duplicate\n of your contract—like this\n one here.” He made a quick note on his secretary plate. “I\n have deducted 13 credits from your salary for the cost of the\n duplicate—as well as a 100-credit fine for firing a Solar inside a\n building.”\n\n\n I slumped, defeated, waiting for the blow to land. The Old Man fondled\n my contract.\n\n\n “According to this document, you can’t quit. Ever. Therefore\n I have a little job I know you’ll enjoy. Repair job. The Centauri\n beacon has shut down. It’s a Mark III beacon.…”\n\n\n “\n What\n kind of beacon?” I asked him. I have repaired\n hyperspace beacons from one arm of the Galaxy to the other and was sure\n I had worked on every type or model made. But I had never heard of this\n kind.\n\n\n “Mark III,” the Old Man repeated, practically chortling.\n “I never heard of it either until Records dug up the specs. They\n found them buried in the back of their oldest warehouse. This was the\n earliest type of beacon ever built—by Earth, no less. Considering\n its location on one of the Proxima Centauri planets, it might very well\n be the first beacon.”\nI looked\n at the blueprints he handed me and felt my eyes glaze with\n horror. “It’s a monstrosity! It looks more like a distillery\n than a beacon—must be at least a few hundred meters high.\n I’m a repairman, not an archeologist. This pile of junk is over\n 2000 years old. Just forget about it and build a new one.”\n\n\n The Old Man leaned over his desk, breathing into my face. “It\n would take a year to install a new beacon—besides being too\n expensive—and this relic is on one of the main routes. We have\n ships making fifteen-light-year detours now.”\n\n\n He leaned back, wiped his hands on his handkerchief and gave me Lecture\n Forty-four on Company Duty and My Troubles.\n\n\n “This department is officially called Maintenance and Repair, when\n it really should be called trouble-shooting. Hyperspace beacons are made\n to last forever—or damn close to it. When one of them breaks down,\n it is\n never\n an accident, and repairing the thing is never a matter of\n just plugging in a new part.”\n\n\n He was telling\n me\n —the guy who did the job while he sat back on his\n fat paycheck in an air-conditioned office.\n\n\n He rambled on. “How I wish that were all it took! I would have a\n fleet of parts ships and junior mechanics to install them. But its not\n like that at all. I have a fleet of expensive ships that are equipped to\n do almost anything—manned by a bunch of irresponsibles like\n you\n .”\n\n\n I nodded moodily at his pointing finger.\n\n\n “How I wish I could fire you all! Combination space-jockeys,\n mechanics, engineers, soldiers, con-men and anything else it takes to do\n the repairs. I have to browbeat, bribe, blackmail and bulldoze you thugs\n into doing a simple job. If you think you’re fed up, just think\n how I feel. But the ships must go through! The beacons must\n operate!”\n\n\n I recognized this deathless line as the curtain speech and crawled to my\n feet. He threw the Mark III file at me and went back to scratching in\n his papers. Just as I reached the door, he looked up and impaled me on\n his finger again.\n\n\n “And don’t get any fancy ideas about jumping your contract.\n We can attach that bank account of yours on Algol II long before you\n could draw the money out.”\n\n\n I smiled, a little weakly, I’m afraid, as if I had never meant to\n keep that account a secret. His spies were getting more efficient every\n day. Walking down the hall, I tried to figure a way to transfer the\n money without his catching on—and knew at the same time he was\n figuring a way to outfigure me.\n\n\n It was all very depressing, so I stopped for a drink, then went on to\n the spaceport.\nBy\n the time the ship was serviced, I had a course charted. The nearest\n beacon to the broken-down Proxima Centauri Beacon was on one of the\n planets of Beta Circinus and I headed there first, a short trip of only\n about nine days in hyperspace.\n\n\n To understand the importance of the beacons, you have to understand\n hyperspace. Not that many people do, but it is easy enough to understand\n that in this\n non\n -space the regular rules don’t apply. Speed and\n measurements are a matter of relationship, not constant facts like the\n fixed universe.\n\n\n The first ships to enter hyperspace had no place to go—and no way\n to even tell if they had moved. The beacons solved that problem and\n opened the entire universe. They are built on planets and generate\n tremendous amounts of power. This power is turned into radiation that is\n punched through into hyperspace. Every beacon has a code signal as part\n of its radiation and represents a measurable point in hyperspace.\n Triangulation and quadrature of the beacons works for\n navigation—only it follows its own rules. The rules are complex\n and variable, but they are still rules that a navigator can follow.\n\n\n For a hyperspace jump, you need at least four beacons for an accurate\n fix. For long jumps, navigators use as many as seven or eight. So every\n beacon is important and every one has to keep operating. That is where I\n and the other trouble-shooters came in.\n\n\n We travel in well-stocked ships that carry a little bit of everything;\n only one man to a ship because that is all it takes to operate the\n overly efficient repair machinery. Due to the very nature of our job, we\n spend most of our time just rocketing through normal space. After all,\n when a beacon breaks down, how do you find it?\n\n\n Not through hyperspace. All you can do is approach as close as you can\n by using other beacons, then finish the trip in normal space. This can\n take months, and often does.\n\n\n This job didn’t turn out to be quite that bad. I zeroed on the\n Beta Circinus beacon and ran a complicated eight-point problem through\n the navigator, using every beacon I could get an accurate fix on. The\n computer gave me a course with an estimated point-of-arrival as well as\n a built-in safety factor I never could eliminate from the machine.\n\n\n I would much rather take a chance of breaking through near some star\n than spend time just barreling through normal space, but apparently Tech\n knows this, too. They had a safety factor built into the computer so you\n couldn’t end up inside a star no matter how hard you tried.\n I’m sure there was no humaneness in this decision. They just\n didn’t want to lose the ship.\nIt\n was a twenty-hour jump, ship’s time, and I came through in the\n middle of nowhere. The robot analyzer chuckled to itself and scanned all\n the stars, comparing them to the spectra of Proxima Centauri. It finally\n rang a bell and blinked a light. I peeped through the eyepiece.\n\n\n A fast reading with the photocell gave me the apparent magnitude and a\n comparison with its absolute magnitude showed its distance. Not as bad\n as I had thought—a six-week run, give or take a few days. After\n feeding a course tape into the robot pilot, I strapped into the\n acceleration tank and went to sleep.\n\n\n The time went fast. I rebuilt my camera for about the twentieth time and\n just about finished a correspondence course in nucleonics. Most\n repairmen take these courses. Besides their always coming in handy, the\n company grades your pay by the number of specialties you can handle. All\n this, with some oil painting and free-fall workouts in the gym, passed\n the time. I was asleep when the alarm went off that announced planetary\n distance.\n\n\n Planet two, where the beacon was situated according to the old charts,\n was a mushy-looking, wet kind of globe. I tried to make sense out of\n the ancient directions and finally located the right area. Staying\n outside the atmosphere, I sent a flying eye down to look things over. In\n this business, you learn early when and where to risk your own skin. The\n eye would be good enough for the preliminary survey.\n\n\n The old boys had enough brains to choose a traceable site for the\n beacon, equidistant on a line between two of the most prominent mountain\n peaks. I located the peaks easily enough and started the eye out from\n the first peak and kept it on a course directly toward the second. There\n was a nose and tail radar in the eye and I fed their signals into a\n scope as an amplitude curve. When the two peaks coincided, I spun the\n eye controls and dived the thing down.\n\n\n I cut out the radar and cut in the nose orthicon and sat back to watch\n the beacon appear on the screen.\n\n\n The image blinked, focused—and a great damn pyramid swam into\n view. I cursed and wheeled the eye in circles, scanning the surrounding\n country. It was flat, marshy bottom land without a bump. The only thing\n in a ten-mile circle was this pyramid—and that definitely\n wasn’t my beacon.\n\n\n Or wasn’t it?\n\n\n I dived the eye lower. The pyramid was a crude-looking thing of\n undressed stone, without carvings or decorations. There was a shimmer of\n light from the top and I took a closer look at it. On the peak of the\n pyramid was a hollow basin filled with water. When I saw that, something\n clicked in my mind.\nLocking\n the eye in a circular course, I dug through the Mark III\n plans—and there it was. The beacon had a precipitating field and a\n basin on top of it for water; this was used to cool the reactor that\n powered the monstrosity. If the water was still there, the beacon was\n still there—inside the pyramid. The natives, who, of course,\n weren’t even mentioned by the idiots who constructed the thing,\n had built a nice heavy, thick stone pyramid around the beacon.\n\n\n I took another look at the screen and realized that I had locked the eye\n into a circular orbit about twenty feet above the pyramid. The summit of\n the stone pile was now covered with lizards of some type, apparently the\n local life-form. They had what looked like throwing sticks and arbalasts\n and were trying to shoot down the eye, a cloud of arrows and rocks\n flying in every direction.\n\n\n I pulled the eye straight up and away and threw in the control circuit\n that would return it automatically to the ship.\n\n\n Then I went to the galley for a long, strong drink. My beacon was not\n only locked inside a mountain of handmade stone, but I had managed to\n irritate the things who had built the pyramid. A great beginning for a\n job and one clearly designed to drive a stronger man than me to the\n bottle.\n\n\n Normally, a repairman stays away from native cultures. They are poison.\n Anthropologists may not mind being dissected for their science, but a\n repairman wants to make no sacrifices of any kind for his job. For this\n reason, most beacons are built on uninhabited planets. If a beacon\n has\n to go on a planet with a culture, it is usually built in some\n inaccessible place.\n\n\n Why this beacon had been built within reach of the local claws, I had\n yet to find out. But that would come in time. The first thing to do was\n make contact. To make contact, you have to know the local language.\n\n\n And, for\n that\n , I had long before worked out a system that was\n fool-proof.\n\n\n I had a pryeye of my own construction. It looked like a piece of rock\n about a foot long. Once on the ground, it would never be noticed, though\n it was a little disconcerting to see it float by. I located a lizard\n town about a thousand kilometers from the pyramid and dropped the eye.\n It swished down and landed at night in the bank of the local mud wallow.\n This was a favorite spot that drew a good crowd during the day. In the\n morning, when the first wallowers arrived, I flipped on the recorder.\n\n\n After about five of the local days, I had a sea of native conversation\n in the memory bank of the machine translator and had tagged a few\n expressions. This is fairly easy to do when you have a machine memory to\n work with. One of the lizards gargled at another one and the second one\n turned around. I tagged this expression with the phrase, “Hey,\n George!” and waited my chance to use it. Later the same day, I\n caught one of them alone and shouted “Hey, George!” at him.\n It gurgled out through the speaker in the local tongue and he turned\n around.\n\n\n When you get enough reference phrases like this in the memory bank, the\n MT brain takes over and starts filling in the missing pieces. As soon as\n the MT could give a running translation of any conversation it heard, I\n figured it was time to make a contact.\nI found\n him easily enough. He was the Centaurian version of a\n goat-boy—he herded a particularly loathsome form of local life in\n the swamps outside the town. I had one of the working eyes dig a cave in\n an outcropping of rock and wait for him.\n\n\n When he passed next day, I whispered into the mike: “Welcome, O\n Goat-boy Grandson! This is your grandfather’s spirit speaking from\n paradise.” This fitted in with what I could make out of the local\n religion.\n\n\n Goat-boy stopped as if he’d been shot. Before he could move, I\n pushed a switch and a handful of the local currency, wampum-type shells,\n rolled out of the cave and landed at his feet.\n\n\n “Here is some money from paradise, because you have been a good\n boy.” Not really from paradise—I had lifted it from the\n treasury the night before. “Come back tomorrow and we will talk\n some more,” I called after the fleeing figure. I was pleased to\n notice that he took the cash before taking off.\n\n\n After that, Grandpa in paradise had many heart-to-heart talks with\n Grandson, who found the heavenly loot more than he could resist. Grandpa\n had been out of touch with things since his death and Goat-boy happily\n filled him in.\n\n\n I learned all I needed to know of the history, past and recent, and it\n wasn’t nice.\n\n\n In addition to the pyramid being around the beacon, there was a nice\n little religious war going on around the pyramid.\n\n\n It all began with the land bridge. Apparently the local lizards had been\n living in the swamps when the beacon was built, but the builders\n didn’t think much of them. They were a low type and confined to a\n distant continent. The idea that the race would develop and might reach\n this\n continent never occurred to the beacon mechanics. Which is, of\n course, what happened.\n\n\n A little geological turnover, a swampy land bridge formed in the right\n spot, and the lizards began to wander up beacon valley. And found\n religion. A shiny metal temple out of which poured a constant stream of\n magic water—the reactor-cooling water pumped down from the\n atmosphere condenser on the roof. The radioactivity in the water\n didn’t hurt the natives. It caused mutations that bred true.\n\n\n A city was built around the temple and, through the centuries, the\n pyramid was put up around the beacon. A special branch of the priesthood\n served the temple. All went well until one of the priests violated the\n temple and destroyed the holy waters. There had been revolt, strife,\n murder and destruction since then. But still the holy waters would not\n flow. Now armed mobs fought around the temple each day and a new band of\n priests guarded the sacred fount.\n\n\n And I had to walk into the middle of that mess and repair the thing.\n\n\n It would have been easy enough if we were allowed a little mayhem. I\n could have had a lizard fry, fixed the beacon and taken off. Only\n “native life-forms” were quite well protected. There were\n spy cells on my ship, all of which I hadn’t found, that would\n cheerfully rat on me when I got back.\n\n\n Diplomacy was called for. I sighed and dragged out the plastiflesh\n equipment.\nWorking\n from 3D snaps of Grandson, I modeled a passable reptile head\n over my own features. It was a little short in the jaw, me not having\n one of their toothy mandibles, but that was all right. I didn’t\n have to look\n exactly\n like them, just something close, to soothe the\n native mind. It’s logical. If I were an ignorant aborigine of\n Earth and I ran into a Spican, who looks like a two-foot gob of dried\n shellac, I would immediately leave the scene. However, if the Spican was\n wearing a suit of plastiflesh that looked remotely humanoid, I would at\n least stay and talk to him. This was what I was aiming to do with the\n Centaurians.\n\n\n When the head was done, I peeled it off and attached it to an attractive\n suit of green plastic, complete with tail. I was really glad they had\n tails. The lizards didn’t wear clothes and I wanted to take along\n a lot of electronic equipment. I built the tail over a metal frame that\n anchored around my waist. Then I filled the frame with all the equipment\n I would need and began to wire the suit.\n\n\n When it was done, I tried it on in front of a full-length mirror. It was\n horrible but effective. The tail dragged me down in the rear and gave me\n a duck-waddle, but that only helped the resemblance.\n\n\n That night I took the ship down into the hills nearest the pyramid, an\n out-of-the-way dry spot where the amphibious natives would never go. A\n little before dawn, the eye hooked onto my shoulders and we sailed\n straight up. We hovered above the temple at about 2,000 meters, until it\n was light, then dropped straight down.\n\n\n It must have been a grand sight. The eye was camouflaged to look like a\n flying lizard, sort of a cardboard pterodactyl, and the slowly flapping\n wings obviously had nothing to do with our flight. But it was impressive\n enough for the natives. The first one that spotted me screamed and\n dropped over on his back. The others came running. They milled and\n mobbed and piled on top of one another, and by that time I had landed in\n the plaza fronting the temple. The priesthood arrived.\n\n\n I folded my arms in a regal stance. “Greetings, O noble servers of\n the Great God,” I said. Of course I didn’t say it out loud,\n just whispered loud enough for the throat mike to catch. This was\n radioed back to the MT and the translation shot back to a speaker in my\n jaws.\n\n\n The natives chomped and rattled and the translation rolled out almost\n instantly. I had the volume turned up and the whole square echoed.\n\n\n Some of the more credulous natives prostrated themselves and others fled\n screaming. One doubtful type raised a spear, but no one else tried that\n after the pterodactyl-eye picked him up and dropped him in the swamp.\n The priests were a hard-headed lot and weren’t buying any lizards\n in a poke; they just stood and muttered. I had to take the offensive\n again.\n\n\n “Begone, O faithful steed,” I said to the eye, and pressed\n the control in my palm at the same time.\n\n\n It took off straight up a bit faster than I wanted; little pieces of\n wind-torn plastic rained down. While the crowd was ogling this ascent, I\n walked through the temple doors.\n\n\n “I would talk with you, O noble priests,” I said.\n\n\n Before they could think up a good answer, I was inside.\nThe\n temple was a small one built against the base of the pyramid. I\n hoped I wasn’t breaking too many taboos by going in. I\n wasn’t stopped, so it looked all right. The temple was a single\n room with a murky-looking pool at one end. Sloshing in the pool was an\n ancient reptile who clearly was one of the leaders. I waddled toward him\n and he gave me a cold and fishy eye, then growled something.\n\n\n The MT whispered into my ear, “Just what in the name of the\n thirteenth sin are you and what are you doing here?”\n\n\n I drew up my scaly figure in a noble gesture and pointed toward the\n ceiling. “I come from your ancestors to help you. I am here to\n restore the Holy Waters.”\n\n\n This raised a buzz of conversation behind me, but got no rise out of the\n chief. He sank slowly into the water until only his eyes were showing. I\n could almost hear the wheels turning behind that moss-covered forehead.\n Then he lunged up and pointed a dripping finger at me.\n\n\n “You are a liar! You are no ancestor of ours! We\n will—”\n\n\n “Stop!” I thundered before he got so far in that he\n couldn’t back out. “I said your ancestors sent me as\n emissary—I am not one of your ancestors. Do not try to harm me or\n the wrath of those who have Passed On will turn against you.”\n\n\n When I said this, I turned to jab a claw at the other priests, using the\n motion to cover my flicking a coin grenade toward them. It blew a nice\n hole in the floor with a great show of noise and smoke.\n\n\n The First Lizard knew I was talking sense then and immediately called a\n meeting of the shamans. It, of course, took place in the public bathtub\n and I had to join them there. We jawed and gurgled for about an hour and\n settled all the major points.\n\n\n I found out that they were new priests; the previous ones had all been\n boiled for letting the Holy Waters cease. They found out I was there\n only to help them restore the flow of the waters. They bought this,\n tentatively, and we all heaved out of the tub and trickled muddy paths\n across the floor. There was a bolted and guarded door that led into the\n pyramid proper. While it was being opened, the First Lizard turned to\n me.\n\n\n “Undoubtedly you know of the rule,” he said. “Because\n the old priests did pry and peer, it was ruled henceforth that only the\n blind could enter the Holy of Holies.” I’d swear he was\n smiling, if thirty teeth peeking out of what looked like a crack in an\n old suitcase can be called smiling.\n\n\n He was also signaling to him an underpriest who carried a brazier of\n charcoal complete with red-hot irons. All I could do was stand and watch\n as he stirred up the coals, pulled out the ruddiest iron and turned\n toward me. He was just drawing a bead on my right eyeball when my brain\n got back in gear.\n\n\n “Of course,” I said, “blinding is only right. But in\n my case you will have to blind me before I\n leave\n the Holy of Holies, not\n now. I need my eyes to see and mend the Fount of Holy Waters. Once the\n waters flow again, I will laugh as I hurl myself on the burning\n iron.”\nHe\n took a good thirty seconds to think it over and had to agree with me.\n The local torturer sniffled a bit and threw a little more charcoal on\n the fire. The gate crashed open and I stalked through; then it banged to\n behind me and I was alone in the dark.\n\n\n But not for long—there was a shuffling nearby and I took a chance\n and turned on my flash. Three priests were groping toward me, their\n eye-sockets red pits of burned flesh. They knew what I wanted and led\n the way without a word.\n\n\n A crumbling and cracked stone stairway brought us up to a solid metal\n doorway labeled in archaic script\n MARK III BEACON—AUTHORIZED\n PERSONNEL ONLY\n . The trusting builders counted on the sign to do the\n whole job, for there wasn’t a trace of a lock on the door. One\n lizard merely turned the handle and we were inside the beacon.\n\n\n I unzipped the front of my camouflage suit and pulled out the\n blueprints. With the faithful priests stumbling after me, I located the\n control room and turned on the lights. There was a residue of charge in\n the emergency batteries, just enough to give a dim light. The meters and\n indicators looked to be in good shape; if anything, unexpectedly bright\n from constant polishing.\n\n\n I checked the readings carefully and found just what I had suspected.\n One of the eager lizards had managed to open a circuit box and had\n polished the switches inside. While doing this, he had thrown one of the\n switches and that had caused the trouble.\nRather\n , that had\n started\n the trouble. It wasn’t going to be ended\n by just reversing the water-valve switch. This valve was supposed to be\n used only for repairs, after the pile was damped. When the water was cut\n off with the pile in operation, it had started to overheat and the\n automatic safeties had dumped the charge down the pit.\n\n\n I could start the water again easily enough, but there was no fuel left\n in the reactor.\n\n\n I wasn’t going to play with the fuel problem at all. It would be\n far easier to install a new power plant. I had one in the ship that was\n about a tenth the size of the ancient bucket of bolts and produced at\n least four times the power. Before I sent for it, I checked over the\n rest of the beacon. In 2000 years, there should be\n some\n sign of wear.\n\n\n The old boys had built well, I’ll give them credit for that.\n Ninety per cent of the machinery had no moving parts and had suffered no\n wear whatever. Other parts they had beefed up, figuring they would wear,\n but slowly. The water-feed pipe from the roof, for example. The pipe\n walls were at least three meters thick—and the pipe opening itself\n no bigger than my head. There were some things I could do, though, and I\n made a list of parts.\n\n\n The parts, the new power plant and a few other odds and ends were chuted\n into a neat pile on the ship. I checked all the parts by screen before\n they were loaded in a metal crate. In the darkest hour before dawn, the\n heavy-duty eye dropped the crate outside the temple and darted away\n without being seen.\n\n\n I watched the priests through the pryeye while they tried to open it.\n When they had given up, I boomed orders at them through a speaker in the\n crate. They spent most of the day sweating the heavy box up through the\n narrow temple stairs and I enjoyed a good sleep. It was resting inside\n the beacon door when I woke up.\nThe\n repairs didn’t take long, though there was plenty of groaning\n from the blind lizards when they heard me ripping the wall open to get\n at the power leads. I even hooked a gadget to the water pipe so their\n Holy Waters would have the usual refreshing radioactivity when they\n started flowing again. The moment this was all finished, I did the job\n they were waiting for.\n\n\n I threw the switch that started the water flowing again.\n\n\n There were a few minutes while the water began to gurgle down through\n the dry pipe. Then a roar came from outside the pyramid that must have\n shaken its stone walls. Shaking my hands once over my head, I went down\n for the eye-burning ceremony.\n\n\n The blind lizards were waiting for me by the door and looked even\n unhappier than usual. When I tried the door, I found out why—it\n was bolted and barred from the other side.\n\n\n “It has been decided,” a lizard said, “that you shall\n remain here forever and tend the Holy Waters. We will stay with you and\n serve your every need.”\n\n\n A delightful prospect, eternity spent in a locked beacon with three\n blind lizards. In spite of their hospitality, I couldn’t accept.\n\n\n “What—you dare interfere with the messenger of your\n ancestors!” I had the speaker on full volume and the vibration\n almost shook my head off.\n\n\n The lizards cringed and I set my Solar for a narrow beam and ran it\n around the door jamb. There was a great crunching and banging from the\n junk piled against it, and then the door swung free. I threw it open.\n Before they could protest, I had pushed the priests out through it.\n\n\n The rest of their clan showed up at the foot of the stairs and made a\n great ruckus while I finished welding the door shut. Running through the\n crowd, I faced up to the First Lizard in his tub. He sank slowly beneath\n the surface.\n\n\n “What lack of courtesy!” I shouted. He made little bubbles\n in the water. “The ancestors are annoyed and have decided to\n forbid entrance to the Inner Temple forever; though, out of kindness,\n they will let the waters flow. Now I must return—on with the\n ceremony!”\n\n\n The torture-master was too frightened to move, so I grabbed out his hot\n iron. A touch on the side of my face dropped a steel plate over my eyes,\n under the plastiskin. Then I jammed the iron hard into my phony\n eye-sockets and the plastic gave off an authentic odor.\n\n\n A cry went up from the crowd as I dropped the iron and staggered in\n blind circles. I must admit it went off pretty well.\nBefore\n they could get any more bright ideas, I threw the switch and my\n plastic pterodactyl sailed in through the door. I couldn’t see it,\n of course, but I knew it had arrived when the grapples in the claws\n latched onto the steel plates on my shoulders.\n\n\n I had got turned around after the eye-burning and my flying beast hooked\n onto me backward. I had meant to sail out bravely, blind eyes facing\n into the sunset; instead, I faced the crowd as I soared away, so I made\n the most of a bad situation and threw them a snappy military salute.\n Then I was out in the fresh air and away.\n\n\n When I lifted the plate and poked holes in the seared plastic, I could\n see the pyramid growing smaller behind me, water gushing out of the base\n and a happy crowd of reptiles sporting in its radioactive rush. I\n counted off on my talons to see if I had forgotten anything.\n\n\n One: The beacon was repaired.\n\n\n Two: The door was sealed, so there should be no more sabotage,\n accidental or deliberate.\n\n\n Three: The priests should be satisfied. The water was running again, my\n eyes had been duly burned out, and they were back in business. Which\n added up to—\n\n\n Four: The fact that they would probably let another repairman in, under\n the same conditions, if the beacon conked out again. At least I had done\n nothing, like butchering a few of them, that would make them\n antagonistic toward future ancestral messengers.\n\n\n I stripped off my tattered lizard suit back in the ship, very glad that\n it would be some other repairman who’d get the job.\n—\nHarry Harrison\nTranscriber’s Note\n\n\n This etext was produced from\n Galaxy\n February 1958. Extensive research\n did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication\n was renewed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was it urgent to repair the old Beacon?", "question_unique_id": "22073_H4OMDMMI_1", "options": ["It was causing disruptions in hyperspace travel", "It had been 2000 years since the last routine matinence", "It was keeping the Proxima Cetauri planets safe", "To appease the local Earthlings"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the most time-consuming part of traveling using hyperspace?", "question_unique_id": "22073_H4OMDMMI_2", "options": ["Flying through regular space ", "Locating enough beacons", "Filling out paperwork", "Preparing the ship for the jump"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the natives build a pyramid around the reactor?", "question_unique_id": "22073_H4OMDMMI_3", "options": ["They saw it as a religious site", "The reactor was built after the pyramid was built", "They wanted to harness its' power", "To protect it from extra terrestrials"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the purpose of the pool of water on top of the pyramid", "question_unique_id": "22073_H4OMDMMI_4", "options": ["To cool the reactor hidden within the pyramid", "To provide a source of drinking water for the natives", "To collect solar energy and create power", "To serve as a religious bathing site for the natives"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When the narrator mentions \"the eye,\" what is he describing?", "question_unique_id": "22073_H4OMDMMI_5", "options": ["The agency always watching him", "His bionic machine eye", "The telescope of his ship", "A drone-like camera"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the narrator learn the local language?", "question_unique_id": "22073_H4OMDMMI_6", "options": ["He left a recorder in a busy area and fed it to a computer ", "He spent time in the society under a disguise", "He studied it during his journey through space", "He asked a local boy to teach him"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the natives' solution to keeping the holy waters from stopping again?", "question_unique_id": "22073_H4OMDMMI_7", "options": ["To call the repairmen for help if it happens again", "To sacrifice priests to appease the Gods", "To blind anyone who enters the holy space", "To weld the gate shut and never allow anyone to enter the holy space"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was the narrator able to take off his camouflage suit in front of the priests?", "question_unique_id": "22073_H4OMDMMI_8", "options": ["He was going to be leaving soon ", "He had incapacitated them beforehand ", "They were blinded in order to enter the reactor", "They understood that he was an extra terrestrial"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/0/7/22073//22073-h//22073-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22102", "set_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Hills of Home", "year": 1962, "author": "Coppel, Alfred", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "[115]\nTHE HILLS OF HOME\n\n by Alfred Coppel\n“Normality” is a myth; we're all a little neurotic, and the\n study of neurosis has been able to classify the general types of\n disturbance which are most common. And some types (providing the subject\n is not suffering so extreme a case as to have crossed the border into\n psychosis) can be not only useful, but perhaps necessary for certain\n kinds of work....\nThe river ran still and deep, green and gray in the eddies with the\n warm smell of late summer rising out of the slow water. Madrone and\n birch and willow, limp in the evening quiet, and the taste of\n smouldering leaves....\n\n\n It wasn’t the Russian River. It was the Sacred Iss. The sun had touched\n the gem-encrusted cliffs by the shores of the Lost Sea of Korus and had\n vanished, leaving only the stillness of the dusk and the lonely cry of\n shore birds.\n\n\n From downstream came the faint sounds of music. It might have been a\n phonograph playing in one of the summer cabins with names like Polly Ann\n Roost and Patches and Seventh Heaven, but to Kimmy it was the hated cry\n of the Father of Therns calling the dreadful Plant Men to their feast of\n victims borne into\n [116]\n this Valley Dor by the mysterious Iss.\n\n\n Kimmy shifted the heavy Martian pistol into his left hand and checked\n his harness. A soft smile touched his lips. He was well armed; there was\n nothing he had to fear from the Plant Men. His bare feet turned\n up-stream, away from the sound of the phonograph, toward the shallows in\n the river that would permit him to cross and continue his search along\n the base of the Golden Cliffs—\nThe sergeant's voice cut through the pre-dawn darkness. “Oh, three\n hundred, Colonel.... Briefing in thirty minutes.”\n\n\n Kimball tried to see him in the black gloom. He hadn’t been asleep. It\n would have been hard to waste this last night that way. Instead he had\n been remembering. “All right, Sergeant,” he said.\n “Coming up.”\n\n\n He swung his feet to the bare boards and sat for a moment, wishing he\n hadn’t had to give up smoking. He could almost imagine the textured\n taste of the cigaret on his tongue.\n\n\n Oddly enough, he wasn’t tired. He wasn’t excited, either. And that was\n much stranger. He stood up and opened the window to look out into the\n desert night. Overhead the stars were brilliant and cold. Mars gleamed\n russet-colored against the sable sky. He smiled, remembering again. So\n long a road, he thought, from then to now.\n\n\n Then he stopped smiling and turned away from the window. It hadn’t been\n an easy path and what was coming up now was the hardest part. The goddam\n psychs were the toughest, always wanting him to bug out on the deal\n because of their brainwave graphs and word association tests and their\n Rorschach blots.\n\n\n “You’re a lonely man, Colonel Kimball——”\n\n\n “Too much imagination could be bad for this job.”\n\n\n How could you sit there with pentothal in your veins and wires running\n out of your head and tell them about the still waters of Korus, or the\n pennons flying from the twin towers of Greater Helium or the way the\n tiny, slanting sun gleamed at dawn through the rigging of a flyer?\n\n\n Kimball snapped on a light and looked at his watch. 0310. Zero minus one\n fifty. He opened the steel locker and began to dress.\nThe water swirled warm and velvety around his ankles. There, behind\n that madrone, Kimmy thought. Was that a Plant Man? The thick white trunk\n and the grasping, blood-sucking arms——\n\n\n The radium pistol’s weight made his wrist ache, but he clung to it\n tightly, knowing that he\n [117]\n could never cope with a Plant Man with a sword\n alone. The certainty of coming battle made him smile a little, the way\n John Carter would smile if he were here in the Valley Dor ready to\n attack the white Therns and their Plant Men.\n\n\n For a moment, Kimmy felt a thrill of apprehension. The deepening\n stillness of the river was closing in around him. Even the music from\n the phonograph was very, very faint. Above him, the great vault of the\n sky was changing from pink to gray to dusty blue. A bright star was\n breaking through the curtain of fading light. He knew it was Venus, the\n Evening Star. But let it be Earth, he thought. And instead of white, let\n it be the color of an emerald.\n\n\n He paused in midstream, letting the warm water riffle around his feet.\n Looking up at the green beacon of his home planet, he thought: I’ve left\n all that behind me. It was never really what I wanted. Mars is where I\n belong. With my friends, Tars Tarkas the great Green Jeddak, and Carter,\n the Warlord, and all the beautiful brave people.\nThe phonograph sang with Vallee’s voice: “Cradle me where\n southern skies can watch me with a million eyes——”\n\n\n Kimmy’s eyes narrowed and he waded stealthily across the sacred river.\n That would be Matai Shang, the Father of Holy Therns—spreading his arms\n to the sunset and standing safely on his high balcony in the Golden\n Cliffs while the Plant Men gathered to attack the poor pilgrims Iss had\n brought to this cursed valley.\n\n\n “Sing me to sleep, lullaby of the leaves”—the phonograph\n sang. Kimmy stepped cautiously ashore and moved into the cover of a\n clump of willows. The sky was darkening fast. Other stars were shining\n through. There wasn’t much time left.\nKimball stood now in the bright glare of the briefing shack, a strange\n figure in blood-colored plastic. The representatives of the press had\n been handed the mimeographed releases by the PRO and now they sat in\n silence, studying the red figure of the man who was to ride the rocket.\n\n\n They were thinking: Why him? Out of all the scores of\n applicants—because there are always applicants for a sure-death\n job—and all the qualified pilots, why this one?\n\n\n The Public Relations Officer was speaking now, reading from the mimeoed\n release as though these civilians couldn’t be trusted to get the sparse\n information given them straight without his help, given grudgingly and\n without expression.\n\n\n [118]\n Kimball listened, only half aware of what was being said. He watched the\n faces of the men sitting on the rows of folding chairs, saw their eyes\n like wounds, red from the early morning hour and the murmuring reception\n of the night before in the Officers’ Club. They are wondering how\nI\nfeel, he was thinking. And asking themselves why I want to go.\n\n\n On the dais nearby, listening to the PRO, but watching Kimball, sat\n Steinhart, the team analyst. Kimball returned his steady gaze thinking:\n They start out burning with desire to cure the human mind and end with\n the shadow of the images. The words become the fact, the therapy the\n aim. What could Steinhart know of longing? No, he thought, I’m not being\n fair. Steinhart was only doing his job.\n\n\n The big clock on the back wall of the briefing shack said three\n fifty-five. Zero minus one hour and five minutes.\n\n\n Kimball looked around the room at the pale faces, the open mouths. What\n have I to do with you now, he thought?\nOutside, the winter night lay cold and still over the Base. Floodlights\n spilled brilliance over the dunes and the scrubby earth, high fences\n casting laced shadows across the burning white expanses of\n ferroconcrete.\n\n\n As they filed out of the briefing shack, Steinhart climbed into the\n command car with Kimball. Chance or design? Kimball wondered. The\n others, he noticed, were leaving both of them alone.\n\n\n “We haven’t gotten on too well, have we, Colonel?” Steinhart\n observed in a quiet voice.\n\n\n Kimball thought: He’s pale skinned and very blond. What is it that he\n reminds me of? Shouldn’t there be a diadem on his forehead? He smiled\n vaguely into the rumbling night. That’s what it was. Odd that he should\n have forgotten. How many rocket pilots, he wondered, were weaned on\n Burroughs’ books? And how many remembered now that the Thern priests all\n wore yellow wings and a circlet of gold with some fantastic jewel on\n their forehead?\n\n\n “We’ve done as well as could be expected,” he said.\n\n\n Steinhart reached for a cigaret and then stopped, remembering that\n Kimball had had to give them up because of the flight. Kimball caught\n the movement and half-smiled.\n\n\n “I didn’t try to kill the assignment for you, Kim,” the\n psych said.\n\n\n “It doesn’t matter now.”\n\n\n “No, I suppose not.”\n\n\n “You just didn’t think I was the man for the job.”\n\n\n “Your record is good all the way. You know that,” Steinhart\n [119]\n said. “It’s just some of the things——”\n\n\n Kimball said: “I talked too much.”\n\n\n “You had to.”\n\n\n “You wouldn’t think my secret life was so dangerous, would\n you,” the Colonel said smiling.\n\n\n “You were married, Kim. What happened?”\n\n\n “More therapy?”\n\n\n “I’d like to know. This is for me.”\nKimball shrugged. “It didn’t work. She was a fine girl—but she\n finally told me it was no go. ‘You don’t live here’ was the\n way she put it.”\n\n\n “She knew you were a career officer; what did she\n expect——?”\n\n\n “That isn’t what she meant. You know that.”\n\n\n “Yes,” the psych said slowly. “I know that.”\n\n\n They rode in silence, across the dark Base, between the concrete sheds\n and the wooden barracks. Overhead, the stars like dust across the sky.\n Kimball, swathed in plastic, a fantastic figure not of earth, watched\n them wheel across the clear, deep night.\n\n\n “I wish you luck, Kim,” Steinhart said. “I mean\n that.”\n\n\n “Thanks.” Vaguely, as though from across a deep and widening\n gulf.\n\n\n “What will you do?”\n\n\n “You know the answers as well as I,” the Colonel said\n impatiently. “Set up the camp and wait for the next rocket. If it\n comes.”\n\n\n “In two years.”\n\n\n “In two years,” the plastic figure said. Didn’t he know that\n it didn’t matter?\n\n\n He glanced at his watch. Zero minus fifty-six minutes.\n\n\n “Kim,” Steinhart said slowly. “There’s something you\n should know about. Something you really should be prepared for.”\n\n\n “Yes?” Disinterest in his voice now, Steinhart noted\n clinically. Natural under the circumstances? Or neurosis building up\n already?\n\n\n “Our tests showed you to be a schizoid—well-compensated, of\n course. You know there’s no such thing as a\nnormal\nhuman being. We all\n have tendencies toward one or more types of psychoses. In your case the\n symptoms are an overly active imagination and in some cases an inability\n to distinguish reality from—well, fancy.”\nKimball turned to regard the psych\n coolly\n .\n “What’s reality, Steinhart? Do\nyou\nknow?”\n\n\n The analyst flushed. “No.”\n\n\n “I didn’t think so.”\n\n\n “You lived pretty much in your mind when you were a child,”\n Steinhart went on doggedly. “You were a solitary, a lonely\n child.”\n\n\n [120]\n Kimball was watching the sky again.\n\n\n Steinhart felt futile and out of his depth. “We know so little\n about the psychology of space-flight, Kim——”\n\n\n Silence. The rumble of the tires on the packed sand of the road, the\n murmur of the command car’s engine, spinning oilily, and lit by tiny\n sunbright flashes deep in the hollows of the hot metal.\n\n\n “You’re glad to be leaving, aren’t you—” Steinhart said\n finally. “Happy to be the first man to try for the\n planets——”\n\n\n Kimball nodded absently, wishing the man would be quiet. Mars, a dull\n rusty point of light low on the horizon, seemed to beckon.\n\n\n They topped the last hillock and dropped down into the lighted bowl of\n the launching site. The rocket towered, winged and monstrously checkered\n in white and orange, against the first flickerings of the false dawn.\nKimmy saw the girls before they saw him. In their new, low waisted\n middies and skirts, they looked strange and out of place standing by the\n pebbled shore of the River Iss.\n\n\n They were his sisters, Rose and Margaret. Older than he at fifteen and\n seventeen. But they walked by the river and into danger. Behind him he\n could hear the rustling sound of the Plant Men as the evening breeze\n came up.\n\n\n “Kimm-eeeee—”\n\n\n They were calling him. In the deepening dusk their voices carried far\n down the river. “Kimmmmm—eeeeeeeeee—”\n\n\n He knew he should answer them, but he did not. Behind him he could hear\n the awful Plant Men approaching. He shivered with delicious horror.\n\n\n He stood very still, listening to his sisters talking, letting their\n voices carry down to where he hid from the dangers of the Valley Dor.\n\n\n “Where is that little brat, anyway?”\n\n\n “He always wanders off just at dinnertime and then we have to find\n him——”\n\n\n “Playing with that old faucet—” Mimicry. “‘My\n rad-ium pis-tol——’”\n\n\n “Cracked—just cracked. Oh, where IS he, anyway? Kimmm-eee, you\n AN-swer!”\n\n\n Something died in him. It wasn’t a faucet, it WAS a radium pistol. He\n looked at his sisters with dismay. They weren’t really his sisters. They\n were Therns, with their yellow hair and their pale skins. He and John\n Carter and Tars Tarkas had fought them many times, piling their bodies\n for barricades and weaving a flashing pattern of skillful swords in the\n shifting light of the two moons.\n\n\n [121]\n “Kimmmm—eeee Mom’s going to be mad at you! Answer us!”\n\n\n If only Tars Tarkas would come now. If only the great Green Jeddak would\n come splashing across the stream on his huge thoat, his two swords\n clashing——\n\n\n “He’s up there in that clump of willows—hiding!”\n\n\n “Kimmy! You come down here this instant!”\n\n\n The Valley Dor was blurring, fading. The Golden Cliffs were turning into\n sandy, river-worn banks. The faucet felt heavy in his grimy hand. He\n shivered, not with horror now. With cold.\n\n\n He walked slowly out of the willows, stumbling a little over the rocks.\nHe lay like an embryo in the viscera of the ship, protected and quite\n alone. The plastic sac contained him, fed him; and the rocket, silent\n now, coursed through the airless deep like a questing thought. Time was\n measured by the ticking of the telemeters and the timers, but Kimball\n slept insulated and complete.\n\n\n And he dreamed.\n\n\n He dreamed of that summer when the river lay still and deep under the\n hanging willows. He dreamed of his sisters, thin and angular creatures\n as he remembered them through the eyes of a nine-year-old——\n\n\n And his mother, tall and shadowy, standing on the porch of the rented\n cottage and saying exasperatedly: “\nWhy do you run off by\n yourself, Kimmy? I worry about you so——\n”\n\n\n And his sisters: “\nPlaying with his wooden swords and his radium\n pistol and never wanting to take his nose out of those awful\n books——\n”\n\n\n He dreamed of the low, beamed ceiling of the cottage, sweltering in the\n heat of the summer nights and the thick longing in his throat for red\n hills and a sky that burned deep blue through the long, long days and\n canals, clear and still. A land that he knew somehow never was, but\n which lived, for him, through some alchemy of the mind. He dreamed of\n Mars.\n\n\n And Steinhart: “\nWhat is reality, Kimmy?\n”\nThe hours stretched into days, the days into months. Time wasn’t. Time\n was a deep night and a starshot void. And dreams.\n\n\n He awoke seldom. His tasks were simple. The plastic sac and the tender\n care of the ship were more real than the routine jobs of telemetering\n information back to the Base across the empty miles, across the rim of\n the world.\n\n\n He dreamed of his wife. “\nYou don’t live here, Kim.\n”\n\n\n She was right, of course. He\n [122]\n wasn’t of earth. Never had been. My love\n is in the sky, he thought, filled with an immense satisfaction.\n\n\n And time slipped by, the weeks into months; the sun dwindled and earth\n was gone. All around him lay the stunning star-dusted night.\n\n\n He lay curled in the plastic womb when the ship turned. He awoke\n sluggishly and dragged himself into awareness.\n\n\n “I’ve changed,” he thought aloud. “My face is younger;\n I feel different.”\n\n\n The keening sound of air over the wings brought a thrill. Below him, a\n great curving disk of reds and browns and yellows. He could see dust\n storms raging and the heavy, darkened lines of the canals.\n\n\n There was skill in his hands. He righted the rocket, balanced it. Began\n the tricky task of landing. It took all of his talent, all of his\n training. Ponderously, the ship settled into the iron sand; slowly, the\n internal fires died.\nKimball stood in the control room, his heart pounding. Slowly, the ports\n opened. Through the thick quartz he could see the endless plain. Reddish\n brown, empty. The basin of some long ago sea. The sky was a deep,\n burning blue with stars shining at midday at the zenith. It looked\n unreal, a painting of unworldly quiet and desolation.\nWhat is reality, Kimmy?\nSteinhart was right, he thought vaguely. A tear streaked his cheek. He\n had never been so alone.\n\n\n And then he imagined he saw something moving on the great plain. He\n scrambled down through the ship, past the empty fuel tanks and the\n lashed supplies. His hands were clawing desperately at the dogs of the\n outer valve. Suddenly the pressure jerked the hatch from his hands and\n he gasped at the icy air, his lungs laboring to breathe.\n\n\n He dropped to one knee and sucked at the thin, frigid air. His vision\n was cloudy and his head felt light. But there\nwas\nsomething moving on\n the plain.\n\n\n A shadowy cavalcade.\nStrange monstrous men on\n fantastic\n war-mounts, long spears and\n fluttering pennons. Huge golden chariots with scythes flashing on the\n circling hubs and armored giants, the figments of a long remembered\n dream——\n\n\n He dropped to the sand and dug his hands into the dry powdery soil. He\n could scarcely see now, for blackness was flickering at the edges of his\n vision and his failing heart and lungs were near collapse.\nKimmm-eee!\n[123]\n A huge green warrior on a gray monster of a thoat was beckoning to him.\n Pointing toward the low hills on the oddly near horizon.\nKimmmm-eeeee!\nThe voice was thin and distant on the icy wind. Kimball knew that voice.\n He knew it from long ago in the Valley Dor, from the shores of the Lost\n Sea of Korus where the tideless waters lay black and deep——\n\n\n He began stumbling across the empty, lifeless plain. He knew the voice,\n he knew the man, and he knew the hills that he must reach, quickly now,\n or die.\n\n\n They were the hills of home.\nTranscriber’s Note and Errata\nThis etext was produced from “Future Science Fiction” No. 30\n 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed.\nThe original page numbers from the magazine have been preserved.\nThe following errors have been corrected:\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does Kimmy feel disdain for Steinhart?", "question_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX_1", "options": ["He refused to pilot a rocket", "His blond hair and pale skin", "He tried to halt the assignment", "He doesn't like therapists "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Kimmy's wife leave him?", "question_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX_2", "options": ["She was worried about his mental health issues", "She thought he was an extra terrestrial", "She knew he did not want to remain on Earth", "She thought he was neglectful"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What aspect of Kimmy's psychological state was beneficial to the long space flight?", "question_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX_3", "options": ["His complete lack of anxiety", "His antisocial behaviors", "His tendency to dissociate into his own imagination", "His extreme lethargy and patience"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is an example given of Kimmy's schizophrenic tendencies?", "question_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX_4", "options": ["He believed an old faucet was a radium pistol ", "His questioning of the doctor's motives", "His dreaming of his wife during the flight", "He was imperceptive of time"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where had Kimmy arrived after waking from his slumber in the ship?", "question_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX_5", "options": ["Mars", "Venus", "Korus", "Earth"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where was the music from the phonograph coming from?", "question_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX_6", "options": ["The bottom of the Valley Dor", "Kimmy was imagining the music", "Dr. Steinhart was playing it to study Kimmy's reaction", "Matai Shang's house"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Kimmy do after getting dressed in the morning?", "question_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX_7", "options": ["Walked across a river", "Boarded the rocket", "Put some music on the phonograph", "Sat through a press briefing"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the significance of Kimmy's trip?", "question_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX_8", "options": ["He will be the first man on Mars", "He will be the first trip to space in two years", "He will finally return home", "He is going to defeat the Plant Men"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Kimmy realize that Steinhart was right about?", "question_unique_id": "22102_B6WHC7QX_9", "options": ["He did indeed escape reality with his overactive imagination", "He was overjoyed to have made it to another planet", "He did feel younger after the trip", "He felt at home upon arriving"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/1/0/22102//22102-h//22102-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22218", "set_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Street That Wasn't There", "year": 1952, "author": "Jacobi, Carl; Simak, Clifford D.", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\n\n\n This etext was produced from Comet, July 1941. Extensive research did\n not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication\n was renewed.\nThe Street That\n\n Wasn't There\nby CLIFFORD D. SIMAK and CARL JACOBI\nMr. Jonathon Chambers left his house on Maple Street at exactly\n seven o'clock in the evening and set out on the daily walk he had\n taken, at the same time, come rain or snow, for twenty solid\n years.\n\n\n The walk never varied. He paced two blocks down Maple Street,\n stopped at the Red Star confectionery to buy a Rose Trofero\n perfecto, then walked to the end of the fourth block on Maple.\n There he turned right on Lexington, followed Lexington to Oak,\n down Oak and so by way of Lincoln back to Maple again and to his\n home.\n\n\n He didn't walk fast. He took his time. He always returned to his\n front door at exactly 7:45. No one ever stopped to talk with\n him. Even the man at the Red Star confectionery, where he bought\n his cigar, remained silent while the purchase was being made. Mr.\n Chambers merely tapped on the glass top of the counter with a\n coin, the man reached in and brought forth the box, and Mr.\n Chambers took his cigar. That was all.\n\n\n For people long ago had gathered that Mr. Chambers desired to be\n left alone. The newer generation of townsfolk called it\n eccentricity. Certain uncouth persons had a different word for\n it. The oldsters remembered that this queer looking individual\n with his black silk muffler, rosewood cane and bowler hat once\n had been a professor at State University.\n\n\n A professor of metaphysics, they seemed to recall, or some such\n outlandish subject. At any rate a furore of some sort was\n connected with his name ... at the time an academic scandal. He\n had written a book, and he had taught the subject matter of that\n volume to his classes. What that subject matter was, had long been\n forgotten, but whatever it was had been considered sufficiently\n revolutionary to cost Mr. Chambers his post at the university.\n\n\n A silver moon shone over the chimney tops and a chill, impish\n October wind was rustling the dead leaves when Mr. Chambers\n started out at seven o'clock.\n\n\n It was a good night, he told himself, smelling the clean, crisp\n air of autumn and the faint pungence of distant wood smoke.\n\n\n He walked unhurriedly, swinging his cane a bit less jauntily than\n twenty years ago. He tucked the muffler more securely under the\n rusty old topcoat and pulled his bowler hat more firmly on his\n head.\n\n\n He noticed that the street light at the corner of Maple and\n Jefferson was out and he grumbled a little to himself when he was\n forced to step off the walk to circle a boarded-off section of\n newly-laid concrete work before the driveway of 816.\n\n\n It seemed that he reached the corner of Lexington and Maple just\n a bit too quickly, but he told himself that this couldn't be. For\n he never did that. For twenty years, since the year following his\n expulsion from the university, he had lived by the clock.\n\n\n The same thing, at the same time, day after day. He had not\n deliberately set upon such a life of routine. A bachelor, living\n alone with sufficient money to supply his humble needs, the timed\n existence had grown on him gradually.\n\n\n So he turned on Lexington and back on Oak. The dog at the corner\n of Oak and Jefferson was waiting for him once again and came out\n snarling and growling, snapping at his heels. But Mr. Chambers\n pretended not to notice and the beast gave up the chase.\n\n\n A radio was blaring down the street and faint wisps of what it\n was blurting floated to Mr. Chambers.\n\n\n \"... still taking place ... Empire State building disappeared ...\n thin air ... famed scientist, Dr. Edmund Harcourt....\"\n\n\n The wind whipped the muted words away and Mr. Chambers grumbled\n to himself. Another one of those fantastic radio dramas,\n probably. He remembered one from many years before, something\n about the Martians. And Harcourt! What did Harcourt have to do\n with it? He was one of the men who had ridiculed the book\n Mr. Chambers had written.\n\n\n But he pushed speculation away, sniffed the clean, crisp air again,\n looked at the familiar things that materialized out of the late\n autumn darkness as he walked along. For there was nothing ...\n absolutely nothing in the world ... that he would let upset him.\n That was a tenet he had laid down twenty years ago.\nThere was a crowd of men in front of the drugstore at the corner\n of Oak and Lincoln and they were talking excitedly. Mr. Chambers\n caught some excited words: \"It's happening everywhere.... What\n do you think it is.... The scientists can't explain....\"\n\n\n But as Mr. Chambers neared them they fell into what seemed an\n abashed silence and watched him pass. He, on his part, gave them\n no sign of recognition. That was the way it had been for many\n years, ever since the people had become convinced that he did not\n wish to talk.\n\n\n One of the men half started forward as if to speak to him, but\n then stepped back and Mr. Chambers continued on his walk.\n\n\n Back at his own front door he stopped and as he had done a\n thousand times before drew forth the heavy gold watch from his\n pocket.\n\n\n He started violently. It was only 7:30!\n\n\n For long minutes he stood there staring at the watch in\n accusation. The timepiece hadn't stopped, for it still ticked\n audibly.\n\n\n But 15 minutes too soon! For twenty years, day in, day out, he\n had started out at seven and returned at a quarter of eight.\n Now....\n\n\n It wasn't until then that he realized something else was wrong.\n He had no cigar. For the first time he had neglected to purchase\n his evening smoke.\n\n\n Shaken, muttering to himself, Mr. Chambers let himself in his\n house and locked the door behind him.\n\n\n He hung his hat and coat on the rack in the hall and walked\n slowly into the living room. Dropping into his favorite chair, he\n shook his head in bewilderment.\n\n\n Silence filled the room. A silence that was measured by the\n ticking of the old fashioned pendulum clock on the mantelpiece.\n\n\n But silence was no strange thing to Mr. Chambers. Once he had\n loved music ... the kind of music he could get by tuning in\n symphonic orchestras on the radio. But the radio stood silent in\n the corner, the cord out of its socket. Mr. Chambers had pulled\n it out many years before. To be precise, upon the night when the\n symphonic broadcast had been interrupted to give a news flash.\n\n\n He had stopped reading newspapers and magazines too, had exiled\n himself to a few city blocks. And as the years flowed by, that\n self exile had become a prison, an intangible, impassable wall\n bounded by four city blocks by three. Beyond them lay utter,\n unexplainable terror. Beyond them he never went.\n\n\n But recluse though he was, he could not on occasion escape from\n hearing things. Things the newsboy shouted on the streets, things\n the men talked about on the drugstore corner when they didn't see\n him coming.\n\n\n And so he knew that this was the year 1960 and that the wars in\n Europe and Asia had flamed to an end to be followed by a terrible\n plague, a plague that even now was sweeping through country after\n country like wild fire, decimating populations. A plague\n undoubtedly induced by hunger and privation and the miseries of\n war.\n\n\n But those things he put away as items far removed from his own\n small world. He disregarded them. He pretended he had never heard\n of them. Others might discuss and worry over them if they wished.\n To him they simply did not matter.\n\n\n But there were two things tonight that did matter. Two curious,\n incredible events. He had arrived home fifteen minutes early. He\n had forgotten his cigar.\n\n\n Huddled in the chair, he frowned slowly. It was disquieting to\n have something like that happen. There must be something wrong.\n Had his long exile finally turned his mind ... perhaps just a\n very little ... enough to make him queer? Had he lost his sense\n of proportion, of perspective?\n\n\n No, he hadn't. Take this room, for example. After twenty years it\n had come to be as much a part of him as the clothes he wore.\n Every detail of the room was engraved in his mind with ...\n clarity; the old center leg table with its green covering and\n stained glass lamp; the mantelpiece with the dusty bric-a-brac;\n the pendulum clock that told the time of day as well as the day\n of the week and month; the elephant ash tray on the tabaret and,\n most important of all, the marine print.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers loved that picture. It had depth, he always said. It\n showed an old sailing ship in the foreground on a placid sea. Far\n in the distance, almost on the horizon line, was the vague\n outline of a larger vessel.\n\n\n There were other pictures, too. The forest scene above the\n fireplace, the old English prints in the corner where he sat, the\n Currier and Ives above the radio. But the ship print was directly\n in his line of vision. He could see it without turning his head.\n He had put it there because he liked it best.\n\n\n Further reverie became an effort as Mr. Chambers felt himself\n succumbing to weariness. He undressed and went to bed. For an\n hour he lay awake, assailed by vague fears he could neither\n define nor understand.\n\n\n When finally he dozed off it was to lose himself in a series of\n horrific dreams. He dreamed first that he was a castaway on a\n tiny islet in mid-ocean, that the waters around the island teemed\n with huge poisonous sea snakes ... hydrophinnae ... and that\n steadily those serpents were devouring the island.\n\n\n In another dream he was pursued by a horror which he could\n neither see nor hear, but only could imagine. And as he sought to\n flee he stayed in the one place. His legs worked frantically,\n pumping like pistons, but he could make no progress. It was as if\n he ran upon a treadway.\n\n\n Then again the terror descended on him, a black, unimagined thing\n and he tried to scream and couldn't. He opened his mouth and\n strained his vocal cords and filled his lungs to bursting with\n the urge to shriek ... but not a sound came from his lips.\nAll next day he was uneasy and as he left the house that evening,\n at precisely seven o'clock, he kept saying to himself: \"You must\n not forget tonight! You must remember to stop and get your\n cigar!\"\n\n\n The street light at the corner of Jefferson was still out and in\n front of 816 the cemented driveway was still boarded off.\n Everything was the same as the night before.\n\n\n And now, he told himself, the Red Star confectionery is in the\n next block. I must not forget tonight. To forget twice in a row\n would be just too much.\n\n\n He grasped that thought firmly in his mind, strode just a bit\n more rapidly down the street.\n\n\n But at the corner he stopped in consternation. Bewildered, he\n stared down the next block. There was no neon sign, no splash of\n friendly light upon the sidewalk to mark the little store tucked\n away in this residential section.\n\n\n He stared at the street marker and read the word slowly: GRANT. He\n read it again, unbelieving, for this shouldn't be Grant Street, but\n Marshall. He had walked two blocks and the confectionery was between\n Marshall and Grant. He hadn't come to Marshall yet ... and here was\n Grant.\n\n\n Or had he, absent-mindedly, come one block farther than he\n thought, passed the store as on the night before?\n\n\n For the first time in twenty years, Mr. Chambers retraced his\n steps. He walked back to Jefferson, then turned around and went\n back to Grant again and on to Lexington. Then back to Grant\n again, where he stood astounded while a single, incredible fact\n grew slowly in his brain:\nThere wasn't any confectionery! The block from Marshall to Grant\n had disappeared!\nNow he understood why he had missed the store on the night\n before, why he had arrived home fifteen minutes early.\n\n\n On legs that were dead things he stumbled back to his home. He\n slammed and locked the door behind him and made his way\n unsteadily to his chair in the corner.\n\n\n What was this? What did it mean? By what inconceivable\n necromancy could a paved street with houses, trees and buildings\n be spirited away and the space it had occupied be closed up?\n\n\n Was something happening in the world which he, in his secluded\n life, knew nothing about?\n\n\n Mr. Chambers shivered, reached to turn up the collar of his coat,\n then stopped as he realized the room must be warm. A fire blazed\n merrily in the grate. The cold he felt came from something ...\n somewhere else. The cold of fear and horror, the chill of a half\n whispered thought.\n\n\n A deathly silence had fallen, a silence still measured by the\n pendulum clock. And yet a silence that held a different tenor than\n he had ever sensed before. Not a homey, comfortable silence ... but\n a silence that hinted at emptiness and nothingness.\n\n\n There was something back of this, Mr. Chambers told himself.\n Something that reached far back into one corner of his brain and\n demanded recognition. Something tied up with the fragments of\n talk he had heard on the drugstore corner, bits of news\n broadcasts he had heard as he walked along the street, the\n shrieking of the newsboy calling his papers. Something to do with\n the happenings in the world from which he had excluded himself.\nHe brought them back to mind now and lingered over the one\n central theme of the talk he overheard: the wars and plagues.\n Hints of a Europe and Asia swept almost clean of human life, of\n the plague ravaging Africa, of its appearance in South America,\n of the frantic efforts of the United States to prevent its spread\n into that nation's boundaries.\n\n\n Millions of people were dead in Europe and Asia, Africa and South\n America. Billions, perhaps.\n\n\n And somehow those gruesome statistics seemed tied up with his own\n experience. Something, somewhere, some part of his earlier life,\n seemed to hold an explanation. But try as he would his befuddled\n brain failed to find the answer.\n\n\n The pendulum clock struck slowly, its every other chime as usual\n setting up a sympathetic vibration in the pewter vase that stood\n upon the mantel.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers got to his feet, strode to the door, opened it and\n looked out.\n\n\n Moonlight tesselated the street in black and silver, etching the\n chimneys and trees against a silvered sky.\n\n\n But the house directly across the street was not the same. It was\n strangely lop-sided, its dimensions out of proportion, like a\n house that suddenly had gone mad.\n\n\n He stared at it in amazement, trying to determine what was wrong\n with it. He recalled how it had always stood, foursquare, a solid\n piece of mid-Victorian architecture.\n\n\n Then, before his eyes, the house righted itself again. Slowly it\n drew together, ironed out its queer angles, readjusted its\n dimensions, became once again the stodgy house he knew it had\n to be.\n\n\n With a sigh of relief, Mr. Chambers turned back into the hall.\n\n\n But before he closed the door, he looked again. The house was\n lop-sided ... as bad, perhaps worse than before!\n\n\n Gulping in fright, Mr. Chambers slammed the door shut, locked it\n and double bolted it. Then he went to his bedroom and took two\n sleeping powders.\n\n\n His dreams that night were the same as on the night before. Again\n there was the islet in mid-ocean. Again he was alone upon it.\n Again the squirming hydrophinnae were eating his foothold piece\n by piece.\n\n\n He awoke, body drenched with perspiration. Vague light of early\n dawn filtered through the window. The clock on the bedside table\n showed 7:30. For a long time he lay there motionless.\n\n\n Again the fantastic happenings of the night before came back to\n haunt him and as he lay there, staring at the windows, he\n remembered them, one by one. But his mind, still fogged by sleep\n and astonishment, took the happenings in its stride, mulled over\n them, lost the keen edge of fantastic terror that lurked around\n them.\n\n\n The light through the windows slowly grew brighter. Mr. Chambers\n slid out of bed, slowly crossed to the window, the cold of the\n floor biting into his bare feet. He forced himself to look out.\n\n\n There was nothing outside the window. No shadows. As if there\n might be a fog. But no fog, however, thick, could hide the apple\n tree that grew close against the house.\n\n\n But the tree was there ... shadowy, indistinct in the gray, with\n a few withered apples still clinging to its boughs, a few\n shriveled leaves reluctant to leave the parent branch.\n\n\n The tree was there now. But it hadn't been when he first had\n looked. Mr. Chambers was sure of that.\nAnd now he saw the faint outlines of his neighbor's house ... but\n those outlines were all wrong. They didn't jibe and fit together ...\n they were out of plumb. As if some giant hand had grasped the house\n and wrenched it out of true. Like the house he had seen across the\n street the night before, the house that had painfully righted itself\n when he thought of how it should look.\n\n\n Perhaps if he thought of how his neighbor's house should look, it\n too might right itself. But Mr. Chambers was very weary. Too\n weary to think about the house.\n\n\n He turned from the window and dressed slowly. In the living room\n he slumped into his chair, put his feet on the old cracked\n ottoman. For a long time he sat, trying to think.\n\n\n And then, abruptly, something like an electric shock ran through\n him. Rigid, he sat there, limp inside at the thought. Minutes\n later he arose and almost ran across the room to the old mahogany\n bookcase that stood against the wall.\n\n\n There were many volumes in the case: his beloved classics on the\n first shelf, his many scientific works on the lower shelves. The\n second shelf contained but one book. And it was around this book\n that Mr. Chambers' entire life was centered.\n\n\n Twenty years ago he had written it and foolishly attempted to teach\n its philosophy to a class of undergraduates. The newspapers, he\n remembered, had made a great deal of it at the time. Tongues had\n been set to wagging. Narrow-minded townsfolk, failing to understand\n either his philosophy or his aim, but seeing in him another exponent\n of some anti-rational cult, had forced his expulsion from the\n school.\n\n\n It was a simple book, really, dismissed by most authorities as\n merely the vagaries of an over-zealous mind.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers took it down now, opened its cover and began\n thumbing slowly through the pages. For a moment the memory of\n happier days swept over him.\n\n\n Then his eyes focused on the paragraph, a paragraph written so\n long ago the very words seemed strange and unreal:\nMan himself, by the power of mass suggestion, holds the physical\n fate of this earth ... yes, even the universe. Billions of minds\n seeing trees as trees, houses as houses, streets as streets ...\n and not as something else. Minds that see things as they are and\n have kept things as they were.... Destroy those minds and the\n entire foundation of matter, robbed of its regenerative power,\n will crumple and slip away like a column of sand....\nHis eyes followed down the page:\nYet this would have nothing to do with matter itself ... but\n only with matter's form. For while the mind of man through long\n ages may have moulded an imagery of that space in which he lives,\n mind would have little conceivable influence upon the existence\n of that matter. What exists in our known universe shall exist\n always and can never be destroyed, only altered or transformed.\nBut in modern astrophysics and mathematics we gain an insight\n into the possibility ... yes probability ... that there are other\n dimensions, other brackets of time and space impinging on the one\n we occupy.\nIf a pin is thrust into a shadow, would that shadow have any\n knowledge of the pin? It would not, for in this case the shadow\n is two dimensional, the pin three dimensional. Yet both occupy\n the same space.\nGranting then that the power of men's minds alone holds this\n universe, or at least this world in its present form, may we not\n go farther and envision other minds in some other plane watching\n us, waiting, waiting craftily for the time they can take over the\n domination of matter? Such a concept is not impossible. It is a\n natural conclusion if we accept the double hypothesis: that mind\n does control the formation of all matter; and that other worlds\n lie in juxtaposition with ours.\nPerhaps we shall come upon a day, far distant, when our plane,\n our world will dissolve beneath our feet and before our eyes as\n some stronger intelligence reaches out from the dimensional\n shadows of the very space we live in and wrests from us the\n matter which we know to be our own.\nHe stood astounded beside the bookcase, his eyes staring unseeing\n into the fire upon the hearth.\nHe\nhad written that. And because of those words he had been\n called a heretic, had been compelled to resign his position at\n the university, had been forced into this hermit life.\n\n\n A tumultuous idea hammered at him. Men had died by the millions\n all over the world. Where there had been thousands of minds there\n now were one or two. A feeble force to hold the form of matter\n intact.\nThe plague had swept Europe and Asia almost clean of life, had\n blighted Africa, had reached South America ... might even have\n come to the United States. He remembered the whispers he had\n heard, the words of the men at the drugstore corner, the\n buildings disappearing. Something scientists could not explain.\n But those were merely scraps of information. He did not know the\n whole story ... he could not know. He never listened to the\n radio, never read a newspaper.\n\n\n But abruptly the whole thing fitted together in his brain like\n the missing piece of a puzzle into its slot. The significance of\n it all gripped him with damning clarity.\n\n\n There were not sufficient minds in existence to retain the\n material world in its mundane form. Some other power from another\n dimension was fighting to supersede man's control\nand take his\n universe into its own plane!\nAbruptly Mr. Chambers closed the book, shoved it back in the case\n and picked up his hat and coat.\n\n\n He had to know more. He had to find someone who could tell him.\n\n\n He moved through the hall to the door, emerged into the street.\n On the walk he looked skyward, trying to make out the sun. But\n there wasn't any sun ... only an all pervading grayness that\n shrouded everything ... not a gray fog, but a gray emptiness that\n seemed devoid of life, of any movement.\n\n\n The walk led to his gate and there it ended, but as he moved\n forward the sidewalk came into view and the house ahead loomed\n out of the gray, but a house with differences.\n\n\n He moved forward rapidly. Visibility extended only a few feet and as\n he approached them the houses materialized like two dimensional\n pictures without perspective, like twisted cardboard soldiers lining\n up for review on a misty morning.\n\n\n Once he stopped and looked back and saw that the grayness had\n closed in behind him. The houses were wiped out, the sidewalk\n faded into nothing.\n\n\n He shouted, hoping to attract attention. But his voice frightened\n him. It seemed to ricochet up and into the higher levels of the\n sky, as if a giant door had been opened to a mighty room high\n above him.\n\n\n He went on until he came to the corner of Lexington. There, on\n the curb, he stopped and stared. The gray wall was thicker there\n but he did not realize how close it was until he glanced down at\n his feet and saw there was nothing, nothing at all beyond the\n curbstone. No dull gleam of wet asphalt, no sign of a street. It\n was as if all eternity ended here at the corner of Maple and\n Lexington.\n\n\n With a wild cry, Mr. Chambers turned and ran. Back down the\n street he raced, coat streaming after him in the wind, bowler hat\n bouncing on his head.\n\n\n Panting, he reached the gate and stumbled up the walk, thankful\n that it still was there.\n\n\n On the stoop he stood for a moment, breathing hard. He glanced\n back over his shoulder and a queer feeling of inner numbness\n seemed to well over him. At that moment the gray nothingness\n appeared to thin ... the enveloping curtain fell away, and he\n saw....\n\n\n Vague and indistinct, yet cast in stereoscopic outline, a\n gigantic city was lined against the darkling sky. It was a city\n fantastic with cubed domes, spires, and aerial bridges and flying\n buttresses. Tunnel-like streets, flanked on either side by\n shining metallic ramps and runways, stretched endlessly to the\n vanishing point. Great shafts of multicolored light probed huge\n streamers and ellipses above the higher levels.\n\n\n And beyond, like a final backdrop, rose a titanic wall. It was\n from that wall ... from its crenelated parapets and battlements\n that Mr. Chambers felt the eyes peering at him.\n\n\n Thousands of eyes glaring down with but a single purpose.\n\n\n And as he continued to look, something else seemed to take form\n above that wall. A design this time, that swirled and writhed in\n the ribbons of radiance and rapidly coalesced into strange\n geometric features, without definite line or detail. A colossal\n face, a face of indescribable power and evil, it was, staring\n down with malevolent composure.\nThen the city and the face slid out of focus; the vision faded\n like a darkened magic-lantern, and the grayness moved in again.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers pushed open the door of his house. But he did not\n lock it. There was no need of locks ... not any more.\n\n\n A few coals of fire still smouldered in the grate and going\n there, he stirred them up, raked away the ash, piled on more\n wood. The flames leaped merrily, dancing in the chimney's throat.\n\n\n Without removing his hat and coat, he sank exhausted in his\n favorite chair, closed his eyes then opened them again.\n\n\n He sighed with relief as he saw the room was unchanged.\n Everything in its accustomed place: the clock, the lamp, the\n elephant ash tray, the marine print on the wall.\n\n\n Everything was as it should be. The clock measured the silence\n with its measured ticking; it chimed abruptly and the vase sent\n up its usual sympathetic vibration.\n\n\n This was his room, he thought. Rooms acquire the personality of\n the person who lives in them, become a part of him. This was his\n world, his own private world, and as such it would be the last to\n go.\n\n\n But how long could he ... his brain ... maintain its existence?\n\n\n Mr. Chambers stared at the marine print and for a moment a little\n breath of reassurance returned to him.\nThey\ncouldn't take this\n away. The rest of the world might dissolve because there was\n insufficient power of thought to retain its outward form.\n\n\n But this room was his. He alone had furnished it. He alone, since\n he had first planned the house's building, had lived here.\n\n\n This room would stay. It must stay on ... it must....\n\n\n He rose from his chair and walked across the room to the book\n case, stood staring at the second shelf with its single volume.\n His eyes shifted to the top shelf and swift terror gripped him.\n\n\n For all the books weren't there. A lot of books weren't there!\n Only the most beloved, the most familiar ones.\n\n\n So the change already had started here! The unfamiliar books were\n gone and that fitted in the pattern ... for it would be the least\n familiar things that would go first.\n\n\n Wheeling, he stared across the room. Was it his imagination, or\n did the lamp on the table blur and begin to fade away?\n\n\n But as he stared at it, it became clear again, a solid,\n substantial thing.\n\n\n For a moment real fear reached out and touched him with chilly\n fingers. For he knew that this room no longer was proof against\n the thing that had happened out there on the street.\n\n\n Or had it really happened? Might not all this exist within his\n own mind? Might not the street be as it always was, with laughing\n children and barking dogs? Might not the Red Star confectionery\n still exist, splashing the street with the red of its neon sign?\n\n\n Could it be that he was going mad? He had heard whispers when he\n had passed, whispers the gossiping housewives had not intended\n him to hear. And he had heard the shouting of boys when he walked\n by. They thought him mad. Could he be really mad?\n\n\n But he knew he wasn't mad. He knew that he perhaps was the sanest\n of all men who walked the earth. For he, and he alone, had\n foreseen this very thing. And the others had scoffed at him for\n it.\n\n\n Somewhere else the children might be playing on a street. But it\n would be a different street. And the children undoubtedly would\n be different too.\n\n\n For the matter of which the street and everything upon it had\n been formed would now be cast in a different mold, stolen by\n different minds in a different dimension.\nPerhaps we shall come upon a day, far distant, when our plane,\n our world will dissolve beneath our feet and before our eyes as\n some stronger intelligence reaches out from the dimensional\n shadows of the very space we live in and wrests from us the\n matter which we know to be our own.\nBut there had been no need to wait for that distant day. Scant\n years after he had written those prophetic words the thing was\n happening. Man had played unwittingly into the hands of those\n other minds in the other dimension. Man had waged a war and war\n had bred a pestilence. And the whole vast cycle of events was but\n a detail of a cyclopean plan.\n\n\n He could see it all now. By an insidious mass hypnosis minions from\n that other dimension ... or was it one supreme intelligence ... had\n deliberately sown the seeds of dissension. The reduction of the\n world's mental power had been carefully planned with diabolic\n premeditation.\n\n\n On impulse he suddenly turned, crossed the room and opened the\n connecting door to the bedroom. He stopped on the threshold and a\n sob forced its way to his lips.\n\n\n There was no bedroom. Where his stolid four poster and dresser\n had been there was greyish nothingness.\n\n\n Like an automaton he turned again and paced to the hall door.\n Here, too, he found what he had expected. There was no hall, no\n familiar hat rack and umbrella stand.\n\n\n Nothing....\n\n\n Weakly Mr. Chambers moved back to his chair in the corner.\n\n\n \"So here I am,\" he said, half aloud.\n\n\n So there he was. Embattled in the last corner of the world that\n was left to him.\n\n\n Perhaps there were other men like him, he thought. Men who stood\n at bay against the emptiness that marked the transition from one\n dimension to another. Men who had lived close to the things they\n loved, who had endowed those things with such substantial form by\n power of mind alone that they now stood out alone against the\n power of some greater mind.\n\n\n The street was gone. The rest of his house was gone. This room\n still retained its form.\n\n\n This room, he knew, would stay the longest. And when the rest of\n the room was gone, this corner with his favorite chair would\n remain. For this was the spot where he had lived for twenty\n years. The bedroom was for sleeping, the kitchen for eating. This\n room was for living. This was his last stand.\n\n\n These were the walls and floors and prints and lamps that had\n soaked up his will to make them walls and prints and lamps.\n\n\n He looked out the window into a blank world. His neighbors'\n houses already were gone. They had not lived with them as he had\n lived with this room. Their interests had been divided, thinly\n spread; their thoughts had not been concentrated as his upon an\n area four blocks by three, or a room fourteen by twelve.\nStaring through the window, he saw it again. The same vision he\n had looked upon before and yet different in an indescribable way.\n There was the city illumined in the sky. There were the\n elliptical towers and turrets, the cube-shaped domes and\n battlements. He could see with stereoscopic clarity the aerial\n bridges, the gleaming avenues sweeping on into infinitude. The\n vision was nearer this time, but the depth and proportion had\n changed ... as if he were viewing it from two concentric angles\n at the same time.\n\n\n And the face ... the face of magnitude ... of power of cosmic\n craft and evil....\n\n\n Mr. Chambers turned his eyes back into the room. The clock was\n ticking slowly, steadily. The greyness was stealing into the\n room.\n\n\n The table and radio were the first to go. They simply faded away\n and with them went one corner of the room.\n\n\n And then the elephant ash tray.\n\n\n \"Oh, well,\" said Mr. Chambers, \"I never did like that very well.\"\n\n\n Now as he sat there it didn't seem queer to be without the table\n or the radio. It was as if it were something quite normal.\n Something one could expect to happen.\n\n\n Perhaps, if he thought hard enough, he could bring them back.\n\n\n But, after all, what was the use? One man, alone, could not stand\n off the irresistible march of nothingness. One man, all alone,\n simply couldn't do it.\n\n\n He wondered what the elephant ash tray looked like in that other\n dimension. It certainly wouldn't be an elephant ash tray nor\n would the radio be a radio, for perhaps they didn't have ash\n trays or radios or elephants in the invading dimension.\n\n\n He wondered, as a matter of fact, what he himself would look like\n when he finally slipped into the unknown. For he was matter, too,\n just as the ash tray and radio were matter.\n\n\n He wondered if he would retain his individuality ... if he still\n would be a person. Or would he merely be a thing?\n\n\n There was one answer to all of that. He simply didn't know.\n\n\n Nothingness advanced upon him, ate its way across the room,\n stalking him as he sat in the chair underneath the lamp. And he\n waited for it.\n\n\n The room, or what was left of it, plunged into dreadful silence.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers started. The clock had stopped. Funny ... the first\n time in twenty years.\n\n\n He leaped from his chair and then sat down again.\n\n\n The clock hadn't stopped.\n\n\n It wasn't there.\n\n\n There was a tingling sensation in his feet.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was Mr. Chambers' academic scandal centered around?", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_1", "options": ["A theory that suggested there were multiple other realities", "Inappropriate conduct with a student", "His unwillingness to participate in social activities", "He theorized that matter was held together by the power of minds"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was there a crowd of people surrounding the drugstore?", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_2", "options": ["Because the store was getting ready to close", "They were trying to get medicine for the plague", "They were discussing the news surrounding the war", "They were discussing the disappearance of objects and places"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Mr. Chambers return early from his walk?", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_3", "options": ["He did not stop at the drug store to watch the news", "One of the streets had completely disappeared ", "He took a different turn than usual", "He walked faster than normal to avoid the crowds"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Mr. Chambers become a recluse?", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_4", "options": ["He did not like the advancements in technology", "He simply did not like people", "He was exiled after a controversial theory", "He was afraid of the war and following plague"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Mr. Chambers horrified by the thought of places disappearing? ", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_5", "options": ["He realized that it might be related to his prior metaphysics theory", "He realized that he might be losing his mind", "He was worried for his neighbors who may had disappeared", "He was worried he wouldn't be able to get his cigars anymore"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Mr. Chambers think that man might be losing control over physical reality?", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_6", "options": ["It was an inevitable function of time passing", "The nuclear experiments of the time were tearing apart the threads of reality ", "The loss of life from war and plague left too few of minds to retain control", "The constant bickering left a lack of harmony"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Mr. Chambers unable to see the apple tree by his window?", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_7", "options": ["The apple tree had be chopped down", "There was a thick layer of fog outside", "His eyesight was failing him", "The current reality was starting to fade "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why might Mr. Chambers think that the face from his vision from \"behind the curtain\" is evil?", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_8", "options": ["He saw it as a representation of the people who hated him", "It was too large in scale for him to comprehend", "It revealed its' evil intentions to Mr. Chambers directly ", "He felt that this new presence was trying to steal reality from humans"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Mr. Chambers able to remain in his room after most of reality had disappeared?", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_9", "options": ["No one else knew he was there, allowing him to hide", "He remained focused on the marine painting on the wall", "He spent so much time in the room that it was ingrained in his psyche", "He was spared because he foretold the coming of the beings from other dimensions"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is implied when Mr. Chambers starts to feel a tingling sensation in his feet?", "question_unique_id": "22218_P9A9DKW0_10", "options": ["He is dying", "He is being transported into another dimension", "He is excited to meet the inter-dimensional beings.", "He is starting to feel emotions once again"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/2/1/22218//22218-h//22218-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22346", "set_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Exile", "year": 1958, "author": "Fyfe, H. B. (Horace Bowne)", "topic": "PS; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "[101]\nEXILE\nBY H. B. FYFE\nILLUSTRATED BY EMSH\n\n\n The Dome of Eyes made it almost impossible for\n Terrans to reach the world of Tepokt. For those\n who did land there, there was no returning—only\n the bitterness of respect—and justice!\n\n\n The Tepoktan student, whose\n blue robe in George Kinton's\n opinion clashed with the dull\n purple of his scales, twiddled a\n three-clawed hand for attention.\n Kinton nodded to him from his\n place on the dais before the\n group.\n\n\n \"Then you can give us no precise\n count of the stars in the\n galaxy, George?\"\n\n\n Kinton smiled wrily, and ran\n a wrinkled hand through his\n graying hair. In the clicking Tepoktan\n speech, his name came\n out more like \"Chortch.\"\n\n\n Questions like this had been\n put to him often during the ten\n years since his rocket had\n hurtled through the meteorite\n belt and down to the surface of\n Tepokt, leaving him the only survivor.\n Barred off as they were\n from venturing into space, the\n highly civilized Tepoktans constantly\n displayed the curiosity of\n dreamers in matters related to\n the universe. Because of the veil\n of meteorites and satellite fragments\n whirling about their\n planet, their astronomers had acquired\n torturous skills but only\n scraps of real knowledge.\n\n\n \"As I believe I mentioned in\n some of my recorded lectures,\"\n Kinton answered in their language,\n [103]\n \"the number is actually\n as vast as it seems to those of\n you peering through the Dome\n of Eyes. The scientists of my\n race have not yet encountered\n any beings capable of estimating\n the total.\"\n\n\n He leaned back and scanned\n the faces of his interviewers,\n faces that would have been oddly\n humanoid were it not for the\n elongated snouts and pointed,\n sharp-toothed jaws. The average\n Tepoktan was slightly under\n Kinton's height of five-feet-ten,\n with a long, supple trunk. Under\n the robes their scholars affected,\n the shortness of their two bowed\n legs was not obvious; but the\n sight of the short, thick arms\n carried high before their chests\n still left Kinton with a feeling\n of misproportion.\n\n\n He should be used to it after\n ten years, he thought, but even\n the reds or purples of the scales\n or the big teeth seemed more\n natural.\n\n\n \"I sympathize with your curiosity,\"\n he added. \"It is a marvel\n that your scientists have\n managed to measure the distances\n of so many stars.\"\n\n\n He could tell that they were\n pleased by his admiration, and\n wondered yet again why any\n little show of approval by him\n was so eagerly received. Even\n though he was the first stellar\n visitor in their recorded history,\n Kinton remained conscious of the\n fact that in many fields he was\n unable to offer the Tepoktans any\n new ideas. In one or two ways,\n he believed, no Terran could\n teach their experts anything.\n\n\n \"Then will you tell us, George,\n more about the problems of your\n first space explorers?\" came another\n question.\nBefore Kinton had formed his\n answer, the golden curtains at\n the rear of the austerely simple\n chamber parted. Klaft, the Tepoktan\n serving the current year\n as Kinton's chief aide, hurried\n toward the dais. The twenty-odd\n members of the group fell silent\n on their polished stone benches,\n turning their pointed visages to\n follow Klaft's progress.\n\n\n The aide reached Kinton and\n bent to hiss and cluck into the\n latter's ear in what he presumably\n considered an undertone.\n The Terran laboriously spelled\n out the message inscribed on the\n limp, satiny paper held before his\n eyes. Then he rose and took one\n step toward the waiting group.\n\n\n \"I regret I shall have to conclude\n this discussion,\" he announced.\n \"I am informed that\n another ship from space has\n reached the surface of Tepokt.\n My presence is requested in case\n the crew are of my own planet.\"\n\n\n [104]\n Klaft excitedly skipped down\n to lead the way up the aisle, but\n Kinton hesitated. Those in the\n audience were scholars or officials\n to whom attendance at one\n of Kinton's limited number of\n personal lectures was awarded as\n an honor.\n\n\n They would hardly learn anything\n from him directly that was\n not available in recordings made\n over the course of years. The\n Tepoktan scientists, historians,\n and philosophers had respectfully\n but eagerly gathered every\n crumb of information Kinton\n knowingly had to offer—and\n some he thought he had forgotten.\n Still ... he sensed the disappointment\n at his announcement.\n\n\n \"I shall arrange for you to\n await my return here in town,\"\n Kinton said, and there were murmurs\n of pleasure.\n\n\n Later, aboard the jet helicopter\n that was basically like\n those Kinton remembered using\n on Terra twenty light years\n away, he shook his head at\n Klaft's respectful protest.\n\n\n \"But George! It was enough\n that they were present when you\n received the news. They can talk\n about that the rest of their lives!\n You must not waste your\n strength on these people who\n come out of curiosity.\"\n\n\n Kinton smiled at his aide's\n earnest concern. Then he turned\n to look out the window as he recalled\n the shadow that underlay\n such remonstrances. He estimated\n that he was about forty-eight\n now, as nearly as he could tell\n from the somewhat longer revolutions\n of Tepokt. The time\n would come when he would age\n and die. Whose wishes would\n then prevail?\n\n\n Maybe he was wrong, he\n thought. Maybe he shouldn't\n stand in the way of their biologists\n and surgeons. But he'd\n rather be buried, even if that\n left them with only what he\n could tell them about the human\n body.\nTo help himself forget the\n rather preoccupied manner in\n which some of the Tepoktan scientists\n occasionally eyed him, he\n peered down at the big dam of\n the hydro-electric project being\n completed to Kinton's design.\n Power from this would soon\n light the town built to house the\n staff of scientists, students, and\n workers assigned to the institute\n organized about the person\n of Kinton.\n\n\n Now, there was an example of\n their willingness to repay him\n for whatever help he had been,\n he reflected. They hadn't needed\n that for themselves.\n\n\n In some ways, compared to\n [105]\n those of Terra, the industries of\n Tepokt were underdeveloped. In\n the first place, the population\n was smaller and had different\n standards of luxury. In the second,\n a certain lack of drive resulted\n from the inability to\n break out into interplanetary\n space. Kinton had been inexplicably\n lucky to have reached the\n surface even in a battered hulk.\n The shell of meteorites was at\n least a hundred miles thick and\n constantly shifting.\n\n\n \"We do not know if they have\n always been meteorites,\" the\n Tepoktans had told Kinton, \"or\n whether part of them come from\n a destroyed satellite; but our observers\n have proved mathematically\n that no direct path through\n them may be predicted more than\n a very short while in advance.\"\n\n\n Kinton turned away from the\n window as he caught the glint\n of Tepokt's sun upon the hull of\n the spaceship they had also built\n for him. Perhaps ... would it\n be fair to encourage the newcomer\n to attempt the barrier?\n\n\n For ten years, Kinton had\n failed to work up any strong desire\n to try it. The Tepoktans\n called the ever-shifting lights\n the Dome of Eyes, after a myth\n in which each tiny satellite\n bright enough to be visible was\n supposed to watch over a single\n individual on the surface. Like\n their brothers on Terra, the native\n astronomers could trace\n their science back to a form of\n astrology; and Kinton often told\n them jokingly that he felt no\n urge to risk a physical encounter\n with his own personal Eye.\nThe helicopter started to descend,\n and Kinton remembered\n that the city named in his message\n was only about twenty miles\n from his home. The brief twilight\n of Tepokt was passing by\n the time he set foot on the landing\n field, and he paused to look\n up.\n\n\n The brighter stars visible from\n this part of the planet twinkled\n back at him, and he knew that\n each was being scrutinized by\n some amateur or professional\n astronomer. Before an hour had\n elapsed, most of them would be\n obscured by the tiny moonlets,\n some of which could already be\n seen. These could easily be mistaken\n for stars or the other five\n planets of the system, but in a\n short while the tinier ones in\n groups would cause a celestial\n haze resembling a miniature\n Milky Way.\n\n\n Klaft, who had descended first,\n leaving the pilot to bring up the\n rear, noticed Kinton's pause.\n\n\n \"Glory glitters till it is known\n for a curse,\" he remarked, quoting\n a Tepoktan proverb often applied\n [106]\n by the disgruntled scientists\n to the Dome of Eyes.\n\n\n Kinton observed, however,\n that his aide also stared upward\n for a long moment. The Tepoktans\n loved speculating about the\n unsolvable. They had even founded\n clubs to argue whether two\n satellites had been destroyed or\n only one.\n\n\n Half a dozen officials hastened\n up to escort the party to the\n vehicle awaiting Kinton. Klaft\n succeeded in quieting the lesser\n members of the delegation so\n that Kinton was able to learn a\n few facts about the new arrival.\n The crash had been several hundred\n miles away, but someone\n had thought of the hospital in\n this city which was known to\n have a doctor rating as an expert\n in human physiology. The survivor—only\n one occupant of the\n wreck, alive or dead, had\n been discovered—had accordingly\n been flown here.\n\n\n With a clanging of bells, the\n little convoy of ground cars\n drew up in front of the hospital.\n A way was made through the\n chittering crowd around the\n entrance. Within a few minutes,\n Kinton found himself looking\n down at a pallet upon which lay\n another Terran.\n\n\n A man! he thought, then\n curled a lip wrily at the sudden,\n unexpected pang of disappointment.\n Well, he hadn't realized\n until then what he was really\n hoping for!\nThe spaceman had been\n cleaned up and bandaged by the\n native medicos. Kinton saw that\n his left thigh was probably\n broken. Other dressings suggested\n cracked ribs and lacerations\n on the head and shoulders. The\n man was dark-haired but pale of\n skin, with a jutting chin and a\n nose that had been flattened in\n some earlier mishap. The flaring\n set of his ears somehow emphasized\n an overall leanness. Even in\n sleep, his mouth was thin and\n hard.\n\n\n \"Thrown across the controls\n after his belt broke loose?\" Kinton\n guessed.\n\n\n \"I bow to your wisdom,\n George,\" said the plump Tepoktan\n doctor who appeared to be\n in charge.\n\n\n Kinton could not remember\n him, but everyone on the planet\n addressed the Terran by the\n sound they fondly thought to be\n his first name.\n\n\n \"This is Doctor Chuxolkhee,\"\n murmured Klaft.\n\n\n Kinton made the accepted gesture\n of greeting with one hand\n and said, \"You seem to have\n treated him very expertly.\"\n\n\n Chuxolkhee ruffled the scales\n around his neck with pleasure.\n\n\n [107]\n \"I have studied Terran physiology,\"\n he admitted complacently.\n \"From your records and\n drawings, of course, George, for\n I have not yet had the good fortune\n to visit you.\"\n\n\n \"We must arrange a visit\n soon,\" said Kinton. \"Klaft\n will—\"\n\n\n He broke off at the sound from\n the patient.\n\n\n \"A Terran!\" mumbled the injured\n man.\n\n\n He shook his head dazedly,\n tried to sit up, and subsided with\n a groan.\nWhy, he looked scared when\n he saw me\n, thought Kinton.\n\n\n \"You're all right now,\" he said\n soothingly. \"It's all over and\n you're in good hands. I gather\n there were no other survivors of\n the crash?\"\n\n\n The man stared curiously. Kinton\n realized that his own language\n sputtered clumsily from\n his lips after ten years. He tried\n again.\n\n\n \"My name is George Kinton.\n I don't blame you if I'm hard to\n understand. You see, I've been\n here ten years without ever having\n another Terran to speak to.\"\n\n\n The spaceman considered that\n for a few breaths, then seemed\n to relax.\n\n\n \"Al Birken,\" he introduced\n himself laconically. \"Ten years?\"\n\n\n \"A little over,\" confirmed Kinton.\n \"It's extremely unusual that\n anything gets through to the\n surface, let alone a spaceship.\n What happened to you?\"\nBirken's stare was suspicious.\n\n\n \"Then you ain't heard about\n the new colonies? Naw—you\n musta come here when all the\n planets were open.\"\n\n\n \"We had a small settlement on\n the second planet,\" Kinton told\n him. \"You mean there are new\n Terran colonies?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah. Jet-hoppers spreadin'\n all over the other five. None of\n the land-hungry poops figured a\n way to set down here, though, or\n they'd be creepin' around this\n planet too.\"\n\n\n \"How did you happen to do\n it? Run out of fuel?\"\n\n\n The other eyed him for a few\n seconds before dropping his\n gaze. Kinton was struck with\n sudden doubt. The outposts of\n civilization were followed by less\n desirable developments as a general\n rule—prisons, for instance.\n He resolved to be wary of the\n visitor.\n\n\n \"Ya might say I was explorin',\"\n Birken replied at last.\n \"That's why I come alone.\n Didn't want nobody else hurt if\n I didn't make it. Say, how bad\n am I banged up?\"\n\n\n Kinton realized guiltily that\n the man should be resting. He\n [108]\n had lost track of the moments\n he had wasted in talk while the\n others with him stood attentively\n about.\n\n\n He questioned the doctor briefly\n and relayed the information\n that Birken's leg was broken but\n that the other injuries were not\n serious.\n\n\n \"They'll fix you up,\" he assured\n the spaceman. \"They're\n quite good at it, even if the sight\n of one does make you think a\n little of an iguana. Rest up, now;\n and I'll come back again when\n you're feeling better.\"\n\n\n For the next three weeks, Kinton\n flew back and forth from his\n own town nearly every day. He\n felt that he should not neglect\n the few meetings which were the\n only way he could repay the Tepoktans\n for all they did for him.\n On the other hand, the chance\n to see and talk with one of his\n own kind drew him like a magnet\n to the hospital.\n\n\n The doctors operated upon\n Birken's leg, inserting a metal\n rod inside the bone by a method\n they had known before Kinton\n described it. The new arrival expected\n to be able to walk, with\n care, almost any day; although\n the pin would have to be removed\n after the bone had healed. Meanwhile,\n Birken seemed eager to\n learn all Kinton could tell him\n about the planet, Tepokt.\n\n\n About himself, he was remarkably\n reticent. Kinton worried\n about this.\n\n\n \"I think we should not expect\n too much of this Terran,\" he\n warned Klaft uneasily. \"You,\n too, have citizens who do not always\n obey, your laws, who sometimes\n ... that is—\"\n\n\n \"Who are born to die under\n the axe, as we say,\" interrupted\n Klaft, as if to ease the concern\n plain on Kinton's face. \"In other\n words, criminals. You suspect\n this Albirken is such a one,\n George?\"\n\n\n \"It is not impossible,\" admitted\n Kinton unhappily. \"He will\n tell me little about himself. It\n may be that he was caught in\n Tepokt's gravity while fleeing\n from justice.\"\n\n\n To himself, he wished he had\n not told Birken about the spaceship.\n He didn't think the man\n exactly believed his explanation\n of why there was no use taking\n off in it.\nYet he continued to spend as\n much time as he could visiting\n the other man. Then, as his helicopter\n landed at the city airport\n one gray dawn, the news reached\n him.\n\n\n \"The other Terran has gone,\"\n Klaft reported, turning from the\n breathless messenger as Kinton\n followed him from the machine.\n\n\n [109]\n \"Gone? Where did they take\n him?\"\n\n\n Klaft looked uneasy, embarrassed.\n Kinton repeated his question,\n wondering about the group\n of armed police on hand.\n\n\n \"In the night,\" Klaft hissed\n and clucked, \"when none would\n think to watch him, they tell me\n ... and quite rightly, I think—\"\n\n\n \"Get on with it, Klaft!\n Please!\"\n\n\n \"In the night, then, Albirken\n left the chamber in which he lay.\n He can walk some now, you\n know, because of Dr. Chuxolkhee's\n metal pin. He—he stole a\n ground car and is gone.\"\n\n\n \"He did?\" Kinton had an\n empty feeling in the pit of his\n stomach. \"Is it known where he\n went? I mean ... he has been\n curious to see some of Tepokt.\n Perhaps—\"\n\n\n He stopped, his own words\n braying in his ears. Klaft was\n clicking two claws together, a\n sign of emphatic disagreement.\n\n\n \"Albirken,\" he said, \"was soon\n followed by three police constables\n in another vehicle. They\n found him heading in the direction\n of our town.\"\n\n\n \"Why did he say he was traveling\n that way?\" asked Kinton,\n thinking to himself of the spaceship!\n Was the man crazy?\n\n\n \"He did not say,\" answered\n Klaft expressionlessly. \"Taking\n them by surprise, he killed two\n of the constables and injured\n the third before fleeing with one\n of their spears.\"\n\n\n \"\nWhat?\n\"\n\n\n Kinton felt his eyes bulging\n with dismay.\n\n\n \"Yes, for they carried only the\n short spears of their authority,\n not expecting to need fire weapons.\"\nKinton looked from him to the\n messenger, noticing for the first\n time that the latter was an under-officer\n of police. He shook his\n head distractedly. It appeared\n that his suspicions concerning\n Birken had been only too accurate.\n\n\n Why was it one like him who\n got through? he asked himself\n in silent anguish. After ten\n years. The Tepoktans had been\n thinking well of Terrans, but\n now—\n\n\n He did not worry about his\n own position. That was well\n enough established, whether or\n not he could again hold up his\n head before the purple-scaled\n people who had been so generous\n to him.\n\n\n Even if they had been aroused\n to a rage by the killing, Kinton\n told himself, he would not have\n been concerned about himself. He\n had reached a fairly ripe age for\n a spaceman. In fact, he had already\n [110]\n enjoyed a decade of borrowed\n time.\n\n\n But they were more civilized\n than that wanton murderer, he\n realized.\n\n\n He straightened up, forcing\n back his early-morning weariness.\n\n\n \"We must get into the air\n immediately,\" he told Klaft.\n \"Perhaps we may see him before\n he reaches—\"\n\n\n He broke off at the word\n \"spaceship\" but he noticed a reserved\n expression on Klaft's\n pointed face. His aide had probably\n reached a conclusion similar\n to his own.\n\n\n They climbed back into the\n cabin and Klaft gave brisk orders\n to the lean young pilot. A\n moment later, Kinton saw the\n ground outside drop away.\n\n\n Only upon turning around did\n he realize that two armed Tepoktans\n had materialized in time to\n follow Klaft inside.\n\n\n One was a constable but the\n other he recognized for an officer\n of some rank. Both wore slung\n across their chests weapons resembling\n long-barreled pistols\n with large, oddly indented butts\n to fit Tepoktan claws. The constable,\n in addition, carried a\n contraption with a quadruple\n tube for launching tiny rockets\n no thicker than Kinton's thumb.\n These, he knew, were loaded\n with an explosive worthy of respect\n on any planet he had heard\n of.\n\n\n To protect him, he wondered.\n Or to get Birken?\n\n\n The pilot headed the craft\n back toward Kinton's town in\n the brightening sky of early day.\n Long before the buildings of\n Kinton's institute came into\n view, they received a radio message\n about Birken.\n\n\n \"He has been seen on the road\n passing the dam,\" Klaft reported\n soberly after having been called\n to the pilot's compartment. \"He\n stopped to demand fuel from\n some maintenance workers, but\n they had been warned and fled.\"\n\n\n \"Couldn't they have seized\n him?\" demanded Kinton, his tone\n sharp with the worry he endeavored\n to control. \"He has that\n spear, I suppose; but he is only\n one and injured.\"\n\n\n Klaft hesitated.\n\n\n \"Well, couldn't they?\"\n\n\n The aide looked away, out one\n of the windows at some sun-dyed\n clouds ranging from pink\n to orange. He grimaced and\n clicked his showy teeth uncomfortably.\n\n\n \"Perhaps they thought you\n might be offended, George,\" he\n answered at last.\n\n\n Kinton settled back in the seat\n especially padded to fit the contours\n of his Terran body, and\n [111]\n stared silently at the partition\n behind the pilot.\n\n\n In other words, he thought, he\n was responsible for Birken, who\n was a Terran, one of his own\n kind. Maybe they really didn't\n want to risk hurting his feelings,\n but that was only part of it.\n They were leaving it up to him\n to handle what they considered\n his private affair.\n\n\n He wondered what to do. He\n had no actual faith in the idea\n that Birken was delirious, or acting\n under any influence but that\n of a criminally self-centered nature.\n\n\n \"I\nshouldn't\nhave told him\n about the ship!\" Kinton muttered,\n gnawing the knuckle of\n his left thumb. \"He's on the run,\n all right. Probably scared the\n colonial authorities will trail him\n right down through the Dome of\n Eyes. Wonder what he did?\"\n\n\n He caught himself and looked\n around to see if he had been overheard.\n Klaft and the police officers\n peered from their respective\n windows, in calculated withdrawal.\n Kinton, disturbed, tried\n to remember whether he had\n spoken in Terran or Tepoktan.\n\n\n Would Birken listen if he tried\n reasoning, he asked himself.\n Maybe if he showed the man how\n they had proved the unpredictability\n of openings through the\n shifting Dome of Eyes—\n\n\n An exclamation from the constable\n drew his attention. He\n rose, and room was made for him\n at the opposite window.\nIn the distance, beyond the\n town landing field they were now\n approaching, Kinton saw a halted\n ground car. Across the plain\n which was colored a yellowish\n tan by a short, grass-like growth,\n a lone figure plodded toward the\n upthrust bulk of the spaceship\n that had never flown.\n\n\n \"Never mind landing at the\n town!\" snapped Kinton. \"Go directly\n out to the ship!\"\n\n\n Klaft relayed the command to\n the pilot. The helicopter swept\n in a descending curve across the\n plain toward the gleaming hull.\n\n\n As they passed the man below,\n Birken looked up. He continued\n to limp along at a brisk\n pace with the aid of what looked\n like a short spear.\n\n\n \"Go down!\" Kinton ordered.\n\n\n The pilot landed about a hundred\n yards from the spaceship.\n By the time his passengers had\n alighted, however, Birken had\n drawn level with them, about\n fifty feet away.\n\n\n \"Birken!\" shouted Kinton.\n \"Where do you think you're going?\"\n\n\n Seeing that no one ran after\n him, Birken slowed his pace, but\n kept walking toward the ship.\n [112]\n He watched them over his shoulder.\n\n\n \"Sorry, Kinton,\" he shouted\n with no noticeable tone of regret.\n \"I figure I better travel on for\n my health.\"\n\n\n \"It's not so damn healthy up\n there!\" called Kinton. \"I told\n you how there's no clear path—\"\n\n\n \"Yeah, yeah, you told me. That\n don't mean I gotta believe it.\"\n\n\n \"Wait! Don't you think they\n tried sending unmanned rockets\n up? Every one was struck and\n exploded.\"\n\n\n Birken showed no more change\n of expression than if the other\n had commented on the weather.\n\n\n Kinton had stepped forward\n six or eight paces, irritated despite\n his anxiety at the way Birken\n persisted in drifting before\n him.\n\n\n Kinton couldn't just grab him—bad\n leg or not, he could probably\n break the older man in two.\n\n\n He glanced back at the Tepoktans\n beside the helicopter, Klaft,\n the pilot, the officer, the constable\n with the rocket weapon.\n\n\n They stood quietly, looking\n back at him.\n\n\n The call for help that had risen\n to his lips died there.\n\n\n \"Not\ntheir\nparty,\" he muttered.\n He turned again to Birken,\n who still retreated toward the\n ship. \"But he'll only get himself\n killed\nand\ndestroy the ship! Or\n if some miracle gets him\n through, that's worse! He's\n nothing to turn loose on a civilized\n colony again.\"\nA twinge of shame tugged\n down the corners of his mouth\n as he realized that keeping Birken\n here would also expose a\n highly cultured people to an unscrupulous\n criminal who had already\n committed murder the very\n first time he had been crossed.\n\n\n \"Birken!\" he shouted. \"For\n the last time! Do you want me\n to send them to drag you back\n here?\"\n\n\n Birken stopped at that. He regarded\n the motionless Tepoktans\n with a derisive sneer.\n\n\n \"They don't look too eager to\n me,\" he taunted.\n\n\n Kinton growled a Tepoktan expression\n the meaning of which\n he had deduced after hearing it\n used by the dam workers.\n\n\n He whirled to run toward the\n helicopter. Hardly had he taken\n two steps, however, when he saw\n startled changes in the carefully\n blank looks of his escort. The\n constable half raised his heavy\n weapon, and Klaft sprang forward\n with a hissing cry.\n\n\n By the time Kinton's aging\n muscles obeyed his impulse to\n sidestep, the spear had already\n hurtled past. It had missed him\n by an error of over six feet.\n\n\n [113]\n He felt his face flushing with\n sudden anger. Birken was running\n as best he could toward the\n spaceship, and had covered nearly\n half the distance.\n\n\n Kinton ran at the Tepoktans,\n brushing aside the concerned\n Klaft. He snatched the heavy\n weapon from the surprised constable.\n\n\n He turned and raised it to his\n chest. Because of the shortness\n of Tepoktan arms, the launcher\n was constructed so that the butt\n rested against the chest with the\n sighting loops before the eyes.\n The little rocket tubes were\n above head height, to prevent the\n handler's catching the blast.\n\n\n The circles of the sights\n weaved and danced about the\n running figure. Kinton realized\n to his surprise that the effort of\n seizing the weapon had him panting.\n Or was it the fright at having\n a spear thrown at him? He\n decided that Birken had not come\n close enough for that, and wondered\n if he was afraid of his\n own impending action.\n\n\n It wasn't fair, he complained\n to himself. The poor slob only\n had a spear, and a man couldn't\n blame him for wanting to get\n back to his own sort. He was\n limping ... hurt ... how could\n they expect him to realize—?\n\n\n Then, abruptly, his lips tightened\n to a thin line. The sights\n steadied on Birken as the latter\n approached the foot of the ladder\n leading to the entrance port\n of the spaceship.\n\n\n Kinton pressed the firing stud.\n\n\n Across the hundred-yard space\n streaked four flaring little projectiles.\n Kinton, without exactly\n seeing each, was aware of the\n general lines of flight diverging\n gradually to bracket the figure\n of Birken.\n\n\n One struck the ground beside\n the man just as he set one foot\n on the bottom rung of the ladder,\n and skittered away past one fin\n of the ship before exploding.\n Two others burst against the\n hull, scattering metal fragments,\n and another puffed on the upright\n of the ladder just above\n Birken's head.\nThe spaceman was blown back\n from the ladder. He balanced on\n his heels for a moment with outstretched\n fingers reaching toward\n the grips from which they\n had been torn. Then he crumpled\n into a limp huddle on the yellowing\n turf.\n\n\n Kinton sighed.\n\n\n The constable took the weapon\n from him, reloaded deftly, and\n proffered it again. When the\n Terran did not reach for it, the\n officer held out a clawed hand to\n receive it. He gestured silently,\n and the constable trotted across\n [114]\n the intervening ground to bend\n over Birken.\n\n\n \"He is dead,\" said Klaft when\n the constable straightened up\n with a curt wave.\n\n\n \"Will ... will you have someone\n see to him, please?\" Kinton\n requested, turning toward the\n helicopter.\n\n\n \"Yes, George,\" said Klaft.\n \"George...?\"\n\n\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"It would be very instructive—that\n is, I believe Dr. Chuxolkhee\n would like to—\"\n\n\n \"All right!\" yielded Kinton,\n surprised at the harshness of his\n own voice. \"Just tell him not to\n bring around any sketches of the\n various organs for a few\n months!\"\n\n\n He climbed into the helicopter\n and slumped into his seat. Presently,\n he was aware of Klaft edging\n into the seat across the aisle.\n He looked up.\n\n\n \"The police will stay until cars\n from town arrive. They are coming\n now,\" said his aide.\nKinton stared at his hands,\n wondering at the fact that they\n were not shaking. He felt dejected,\n empty, not like a man who\n had just been at a high pitch of\n excitement.\n\n\n \"Why did you not let him go,\n George?\"\n\n\n \"What? Why ... why ... he\n would have destroyed the ship\n you worked so hard to build.\n There is no safe path through\n the Dome of Eyes.\"\n\n\n \"No predictable path,\" Klaft\n corrected. \"But what then? We\n would have built you another\n ship, George, for it was you who\n showed us how.\"\n\n\n Kinton flexed his fingers\n slowly.\n\n\n \"He was just no good. You\n know the murder he did here;\n we can only guess what he did\n among my own ... among Terrans.\n Should he have a chance to\n go back and commit more\n crimes?\"\n\n\n \"I understand, George, the\n logic of it,\" said Klaft. \"I meant\n ... it is not my place to say this\n ... but you seem unhappy.\"\n\n\n \"Possibly,\" grunted Kinton\n wrily.\n\n\n \"We, too, have criminals,\" said\n the aide, as gently as was possible\n in his clicking language.\n \"We do not think it necessary\n to grieve for the pain they bring\n upon themselves.\"\n\n\n \"No, I suppose not,\" sighed\n Kinton. \"I ... it's just—\"\n\n\n He looked up at the pointed\n visage, at the strange eyes regarding\n him sympathetically\n from beneath the sloping, purple-scaled\n forehead.\n\n\n \"It's just that now I'm lonely\n ... again,\" he said.\nTranscriber's Note:\n\n This e-text was produced from\n Space Science Fiction\n February\n 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the\n U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why were the Tepoktan's barred from going into space?", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_1", "options": ["Their religion prohibits it", "They lack the drive for interstellar exploration", "The Terrans have colonized all of the rest of near space", "There is a field of debris blocking their orbit"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is it implied when it is said that the survivor is \"not what he was hoping for?\"", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_2", "options": ["George would have preferred the survivor to have been of a stronger build", "George would have preferred the survivor to be uninjured", "George would have preferred for the survivor to have been a woman", "George would have wanted the survivor to not have been from Terra"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is the injured man surprised to see George? ", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_3", "options": ["George is the only human on an alien planet", "He is surprised to be alive and able to see", "He knows George from a previous encounter", "He was on a rescue mission for George"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was George suspicious of Al Birken?", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_4", "options": ["George thinks that Al may be a prisoner on the run ", "George thinks Al may be a scout for land-grabbers", "George is worried Al is there to steal Tepoktan knowledge", "George is worried Al will try to conquer the Tepoktans"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why didn't the Tepoktans seize Al Birken after he stole the vehicle?", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_5", "options": ["The Tepoktans were afraid Al Birken would kill more people", "The Tepoktans wanted Al Birken to leave", "Al Birken continually overpowered the Tepoktans", "The Tepotkans were leaving it up to George's discretion"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Birken limping during his approach to the space ship?", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_6", "options": ["His leg was hurt in a crash duringthe chase with the authorities", "The Tepoktans had shot his leg while he was running towards the ship", "The Tepoktans had operated on his leg to study his physiology", "His leg was broken in his initial crash on the planet"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why were George's escorts suddenly startled at the ship?", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_7", "options": ["George was not going to let Al Birken board the ship", "Al Birken had tackled George", "Al Birken had thrown a spear at George", "George decided to leave Tepokt"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did George remain on Tepokt instead of returning home?", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_8", "options": ["He like the way he was treated with respect on Tepokt", "He was a wanted criminal on his home planet", "He wanted to help the Tepoktans achieve interstellar travel", "He was afraid of crashing in the meteorite field while leaving"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was George upset with Klaft after killing Al Birken?", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_9", "options": ["Klaft didn't help him during the fight", "Klaft was asking if the Dr. could study Al Birken's body", "Klaft was chastising George for killing Al", "Klaft was telling George that he should leave on the space ship"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was George regretful for killing Al Birken?", "question_unique_id": "22346_3ZEMUJFW_10", "options": ["George had damaged the ship that the Tepoktans built", "George wanted another human to live on Tepokt with", "George wanted to give Al Birken a fair trial", "George thought Al Birkin was innocent"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/3/4/22346//22346-h//22346-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22462", "set_unique_id": "22462_F944PNS1", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Slingshot", "year": 1958, "author": "Lande, Irving W.", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; PS", "article": "SLINGSHOT\nBY\n\n IRVING W. LANDE\nIllustrated by Emsh\nThe slingshot\n was, I believe, one of the few\n weapons of history that wasn't used in the last war.\n That doesn't mean it won't be used in the next!\n\"Got a bogey at three o'clock high.\n Range about six hundred miles.\"\n Johnson spoke casually, but his voice\n in the intercom was thin with tension.\n\n\n Captain Paul Coulter, commanding\n Space Fighter 308, 58th Squadron,\n 33rd Fighter Wing, glanced up out\n of his canopy in the direction indicated,\n and smiled to himself at the\n instinctive reaction. Nothing there\n but the familiar starry backdrop, the\n moon far down to the left. If the\n light wasn't right, a ship might be\n invisible at half a mile. He squeezed\n the throttle mike button. \"Any IFF?\"\n\n\n \"No IFF.\"\n\n\n \"O.K., let me know as soon as you\n have his course.\" Coulter squashed\n out his cigar and began his cockpit\n check, grinning without humor as he\n noticed that his breathing had deepened\n and his palms were moist on\n the controls. He looked down to\n make sure his radio was snug in its\n pocket on his leg; checked the thigh\n harness of his emergency rocket,\n wrapped in its thick belly pad; checked\n the paired tanks of oxygen behind\n him, hanging level from his shoulders\n into their niche in the \"cradle.\"\n He flipped his helmet closed, locked\n it, and opened it again. He tossed\n a sardonic salute at the photograph\n of a young lady who graced the side\n of the cockpit. \"Wish us luck, sugar.\"\n He pressed the mike button again.\n\n\n \"You got anything yet, Johnny?\"\n\n\n \"He's going our way, Paul. Have\n it exact in a minute.\"\n\n\n Coulter scanned the full arch of\n sky visible through the curving panels\n of the dome, thinking the turgid\n thoughts that always came when action\n was near. His chest was full of\n the familiar weakness—not fear exactly,\n but a tight, helpless feeling\n that grew and grew with the waiting.\n\n\n His eyes and hands were busy in\n the familiar procedure, readying the\n ship for combat, checking and re-checking\n the details that could mean\n life and death, but his mind watched\n disembodied, yearning back to earth.\n\n\n Sylvia always came back first. Inviting\n smile and outstretched hands.\n Nyloned knees, pink sweater, and\n that clinging, clinging white silk\n skirt. A whirling montage of laughing,\n challenging eyes and tossing sky-black\n hair and soft arms tightening\n around his neck.\n\n\n Then Jean, cool and self-possessed\n and slightly disapproving,\n with warmth and humor peeping\n through from underneath when she\n smiled. A lazy, crinkly kind of smile,\n like Christmas lights going on one\n by one. He wished he'd acted more\n grown up that night they watched\n the rain dance at the pueblo. For the\n hundredth time, he went over what\n he remembered of their last date,\n seeing the gleam of her shoulder, and\n the angry disappointment in her eyes;\n hearing again his awkward apologies.\n She was a nice kid. Silently his mouth\n formed the words. \"You're a nice\n kid.\"\nI think she loves me. She was just\n mad because I got drunk.\nThe tension of approaching combat\n suddenly blended with the memory,\n welling up into a rush of tenderness\n and affection. He whispered her\n name, and suddenly he knew that if\n he got back he was going to ask her\n to marry him.\n\n\n He thought of his father, rocking\n on the porch of the Pennsylvania\n farm, pipe in his mouth, the weathered\n old face serene, as he puffed and\n listened to the radio beside him. He\n wished he'd written him last night,\n instead of joining the usual beer and\n bull session in the wardroom. He\n wished—. He wished.\n\n\n \"I've got him, Paul. He's got two\n point seven miles of RV on us. Take\n thirty degrees high on two point one\n o'clock for course to IP.\"\nAutomatically he turned the control\n wheel to the right and eased it\n back. The gyros recorded the turn to\n course.\n\n\n \"Hold 4 G's for one six five seconds,\n then coast two minutes for initial\n point five hundred miles on his\n tail.\"\n\n\n \"Right, Johnny. One sixty-five,\n then two minutes.\" He set the timer,\n advanced the throttle to 4 G's, and\n stepped back an inch as the acceleration\n took him snugly into the cradle.\n The Return-To-Station-Fuel and Relative-Velocity-To-Station\n gauges did\n their usual double takes on a change\n of course, as the ship computer recorded\n the new information. He\n liked those two gauges—the two old\n ladies.\n\n\n Mrs. RSF kept track of how much\n more fuel they had than they needed\n to get home. When they were moving\n away from station, she dropped\n in alarmed little jumps, but when\n they were headed home, she inched\n along in serene contentment, or if\n they were coasting, sneaked triumphantly\n back up the dial.\n\n\n Mrs. RVS started to get jittery at\n about ten mps away from home, and\n above fifteen, she was trembling\n steadily. He didn't blame the old\n ladies for worrying. With one hour\n of fuel at 5 G's, you didn't fire a\n single squirt unless there was a good\n reason for it. Most of their time on\n a mission was spent free wheeling,\n in the anxiety-laden boredom that\n fighting men have always known.\nWish the Red was coming in across\n our course.\nIt would have taken less\n fuel, and the chase wouldn't have\n taken them so far out. But then\n they'd probably have been spotted,\n and lost the precious element of surprise.\n\n\n He blessed the advantage of better\n radar. In this crazy \"war,\" so like\n the dogfights of the first world war,\n the better than two hundred mile\n edge of American radar was more\n often than not the margin of victory.\n The American crews were a little\n sharper, a little better trained, but\n with their stripped down ships, and\n midget crewmen, with no personal\n safety equipment, the Reds could\n accelerate longer and faster, and go\n farther out. You had to get the jump\n on them, or it was just too bad.\n\n\n The second hand hit forty-five in\n its third cycle, and he stood loose in\n the cradle as the power died.\nSixty-two combat missions but the\n government says there's no war.\nHis\n mind wandered back over eight years\n in the service. Intelligence tests. Physical\n tests. Psychological tests. Six\n months of emotional adjustment in\n the screep. Primary training. Basic\n and advanced training. The pride and\n excitement of being chosen for space\n fighters. By the time he graduated,\n the United States and Russia each had\n several satellite stations operating, but\n in 1979, the United States had won\n the race for a permanent station on\n the Moon. What a grind it had been,\n bringing in the supplies.\n\n\n A year later the Moon station had\n \"blown up.\" No warning. No survivors.\n Just a brand-new medium-sized\n crater. And six months later,\n the new station, almost completed,\n went up again. The diplomats had\n buzzed like hornets, with accusations\n and threats, but nothing could be\n proven—there\nwere\nbombs stored at\n the station. The implication was clear\n enough. There wasn't going to be\n any Moon station until one government\n ruled Earth. Or until the United\n States and Russia figured out a way\n to get along with each other. And so\n far, getting along with Russia was\n like trying to get along with an\n octopus.\n\n\n Of course there were rumors that\n the psych warfare boys had some\n gimmick cooked up, to turn the\n U. S. S. R. upside down in a revolution,\n the next time power changed\n hands, but he'd been hearing that one\n for years. Still, with four new dictators\n over there in the last eleven\n years, there was always a chance.\n\n\n Anyway, he was just a space\n jockey, doing his job in this screwball\n fight out here in the empty reaches.\n Back on Earth, there was no war. The\n statesmen talked, held conferences,\n played international chess as ever.\n Neither side bothered the other's\n satellites, though naturally they were\n on permanent alert. There just wasn't\n going to be any Moon station for a\n while. Nobody knew what there\n might be on the Moon, but if one\n side couldn't have it, then the other\n side wasn't going to have it either.\n\n\n And meanwhile, the struggle was\n growing deadlier, month by month,\n each side groping for the stranglehold,\n looking for the edge that would\n give domination of space, or make\n all-out war a good risk. They hadn't\n found it yet, but it was getting bloodier\n out here all the time. For a while,\n it had been a supreme achievement\n just to get a ship out and back, but\n gradually, as the ships improved,\n there was a little margin left over for\n weapons. Back a year ago, the average\n patrol was nothing but a sightseeing\n tour. Not that there was much to see,\n when you'd been out a few times.\n Now, there were Reds around practically\n every mission.\nThirteen missions to go, after today.\nHe wondered if he'd quit at\n seventy-five. Deep inside him, the old\n pride and excitement were still\n strong. He still got a kick out of the\n way the girls looked at the silver\n rocket on his chest. But he didn't\n feel as lucky as he used to. Twenty-nine\n years old, and he was starting\n to feel like an old man. He pictured\n himself lecturing to a group of eager\n kids.\nHad a couple of close calls, those\n last two missions.\nThat Red had\n looked easy, the way he was wandering\n around. He hadn't spotted them\n until they were well into their run,\n but when he got started he'd made\n them look like slow motion, just the\n same. If he hadn't tried that harebrained\n sudden deceleration....\n Coulter shook his head at the memory.\n And on the last mission they'd\n been lucky to get a draw. Those boys\n were good shots.\n\"We're crossing his track, Paul.\n Turn to nine point five o'clock and\n hold 4 G's for thirty-two seconds,\n starting on the count ... five—four—three—two—one—go!\"\n He completed\n the operation in silence, remarking\n to himself how lucky he was\n to have Johnson. The boy loved a\n chase. He navigated like a hungry\n hawk, though you had to admit his\n techniques were a bit irregular.\n\n\n Coulter chuckled at the ad lib way\n they operated, remembering the\n courses, the tests, the procedures practiced\n until they could do them backwards\n blindfolded. When they tangled\n with a Red, the Solter co-ordinates\n went out the hatch. They navigated\n by the enemy. There were times\n during a fight when he had no more\n idea of his position than what the\n old ladies told him, and what he\n could see of the Sun, the Earth, and\n the Moon.\n\n\n And using \"right side up\" as a\n basis for navigation. He chuckled\n again. Still, the service had had to\n concede on \"right side up,\" in designing\n the ships, so there was something\n to be said for it. They hadn't\n been able to simulate gravity without\n fouling up the ships so they had\n to call the pilot's head \"up.\" There\n was something comforting about it.\n He'd driven a couple of the experimental\n jobs, one with the cockpit set\n on gimbals, and one where the whole\n ship rotated, and he hadn't cared for\n them at all. Felt disoriented, with\n something nagging at his mind all\n the time, as though the ships had\n been sabotaged. A couple of pilots\n had gone nuts in the \"spindizzy,\"\n and remembering his own feelings as\n he watched the sky go by, it was easy\n to understand.\n\n\n Anyway, \"right side up\" tied in\n perfectly with the old \"clock\" system\n Garrity had dug out of those magazines\n he was always reading. Once\n they got used to it, it had turned out\n really handy. Old Doc Hoffman, his\n astrogation prof, would have turned\n purple if he'd ever dreamed they'd\n use such a conglomeration. But\n it worked. And when you were\n in a hurry, it worked in a hurry, and\n that was good enough for Coulter.\n He'd submitted a report on it to\n Colonel Silton.\n\n\n \"You've got him, Paul. We're\n dead on his tail, five hundred miles\n back, and matching velocity. Turn\n forty-two degrees right, and you're\n lined up right on him.\" Johnson was\n pleased with the job he'd done.\n\n\n Coulter watched the pip move into\n his sightscreen. It settled less than a\n degree off dead center. He made the\n final corrections in course, set the air\n pressure control to eight pounds, and\n locked his helmet.\n\n\n \"Nice job, Johnny. Let's button\n up. You with us, Guns?\"\n\n\n Garrity sounded lazy as a well-fed\n tiger. \"Ah'm with yew, cap'n.\"\n\n\n Coulter advanced the throttle to\n 5 G's. And with the hiss of power,\n SF 308 began the deadly, intricate,\n precarious maneuver called a combat\n pass—a maneuver inherited from the\n aerial dogfight—though it often turned\n into something more like the\n broadside duels of the old sailing\n ships—as the best and least suicidal\n method of killing a spaceship. To\n start on the enemy's tail, just out of\n his radar range. To come up his track\n at 2 mps relative velocity, firing six\n .30 caliber machine guns from fifty\n miles out. In the last three or four\n seconds, to break out just enough to\n clear him, praying that he won't\n break in the same direction.\nAnd to\n keep on going.\nFour minutes and thirty-four seconds\n to the break.\nSixty seconds at\n 5 G's; one hundred ninety-two seconds\n of free wheeling; and then, if\n they were lucky, the twenty-two frantic\n seconds they were out here for—throwing\n a few pounds of steel slugs\n out before them in one unbroken\n burst, groping out fifty miles into\n the darkness with steel and radar fingers\n to kill a duplicate of themselves.\nThis is the worst. These three minutes\n are the worst.\nOne hundred\n ninety-two eternal seconds of waiting,\n of deathly silence and deathly\n calm, feeling and hearing nothing\n but the slow pounding of their own\n heartbeats. Each time he got back, it\n faded away, and all he remembered\n was the excitement. But each time\n he went through it, it was worse. Just\n standing and waiting in the silence,\n praying they weren't spotted—staring\n at the unmoving firmament and\n knowing he was a projectile hurtling\n two miles each second straight at a\n clump of metal and flesh that was\n the enemy. Knowing the odds were\n twenty to one against their scoring\n a kill ... unless they ran into him.\nAt eighty-five seconds, he corrected\n slightly to center the pip. The momentary\n hiss of the rockets was a\n relief. He heard the muffled yammering\n as Guns fired a short burst\n from the .30's standing out of their\n compartments around the sides of the\n ship. They were practically recoilless,\n but the burst drifted him forward\n against the cradle harness.\n\n\n And suddenly the waiting was\n over. The ship filled with vibration\n as Guns opened up.\nTwenty-five seconds\n to target.\nHis eyes flicked from\n the sightscreen to the sky ahead,\n looking for the telltale flare of rockets—ready\n to follow like a ferret.\nThere he is!\nAt eighteen miles\n from target, a tiny blue light flickered\n ahead. He forgot everything but the\n sightscreen, concentrating on keeping\n the pip dead center. The guns hammered\n on. It seemed they'd been firing\n for centuries. At ten-mile range,\n the combat radar kicked the automatics\n in, turning the ship ninety\n degrees to her course in one and a\n half seconds. He heard the lee side\n firing cut out, as Garrity hung on\n with two, then three guns.\n\n\n He held it as long as he could.\n Closer than he ever had before. At\n four miles he poured 12 G's for two\n seconds.\n\n\n They missed ramming by something\n around a hundred yards. The\n enemy ship flashed across his tail in\n a fraction of a second, already turned\n around and heading up its own track,\n yet it seemed to Paul he could make\n out every detail—the bright red star,\n even the tortured face of the pilot.\n Was there something lopsided in the\n shape of that rocket plume, or was\n he just imagining it in the blur of\n their passing? And did he hear a\nping\njust at that instant, feel the\n ship vibrate for a second?\n\n\n He continued the turn in the direction\n the automatics had started, bringing\n his nose around to watch the\n enemy's track. And as the shape of\n the plume told him the other ship\n was still heading back toward Earth,\n he brought the throttle back up to\n 12 G's, trying to overcome the lead\n his pass had given away.\n\n\n Guns spoke quietly to Johnson.\n \"Let me know when we kill his RV.\n Ah may get another shot at him.\"\n\n\n And Johnny answered, hurt,\n \"What do you think I'm doing down\n here—reading one of your magazines?\"\n\n\n Paul was struggling with hundred-pound\n arms, trying to focus the telescope\n that swiveled over the panel.\n As the field cleared, he could see that\n the plume was flaring unevenly, flickering\n red and orange along one side.\n Quietly and viciously, he was talking\n to himself. \"Blow! Blow!\"\nAnd she blew. Like a dirty ragged\n bit of fireworks, throwing tiny handfuls\n of sparks into the blackness.\n Something glowed red for a while,\n and slowly faded.\nThere, but for the grace of God....\nPaul shuddered in a confused\n mixture of relief and revulsion.\n\n\n He cut back to 4 G's, noting that\n RVS registered about a mile per\n second away from station, and suddenly\n became aware that the red light\n was on for loss of air. The cabin\n pressure gauge read zero, and his\n heart throbbed into his throat as he\n remembered that\npinging\nsound, just\n as they passed the enemy ship. He\n told Garrity to see if he could locate\n the loss, and any other damage, and\n was shortly startled by a low amazed\n whistle in his earphones.\n\n\n \"If Ah wasn't lookin' at it, Ah\n wouldn't believe it. Musta been one\n of his shells went right around the\n fuel tank and out again, without hittin'\n it. There's at least three inches of\n tank on a line between the holes! He\n musta been throwin' curves at us.\n Man, cap'n, this is our lucky day!\"\n\n\n Paul felt no surprise, only relief\n at having the trouble located. The\n reaction to the close call might not\n come till hours later. \"This kind of\n luck we can do without. Can you\n patch the holes?\"\n\n\n \"Ah can patch the one where it\n came in, but it musta been explodin'\n on the way out. There's a hole Ah\n could stick mah head through.\"\n\n\n \"That's a good idea.\" Johnson was\n not usually very witty, but this was\n one he couldn't resist.\n\n\n \"Never mind, Guns. A patch that\n big wouldn't be safe to hold air.\"\nThey were about eighty thousand\n miles out. He set course for Earth at\n about five and a half mps, which\n Johnson calculated to bring them in\n on the station on the \"going away\"\n side of its orbit, and settled back for\n the tedious two hours of free wheeling.\n For ten or fifteen minutes, the\n interphone crackled with the gregariousness\n born of recent peril, and\n gradually the ship fell silent as each\n man returned to his own private\n thoughts.\n\n\n Paul was wondering about the men\n on the other ship—whether any of\n them were still alive. Eighty thousand\n miles to fall. That was a little\n beyond the capacity of an emergency\n rocket—about 2 G's for sixty seconds—even\n if they had them. What a\n way to go home! He wondered what\n he'd do if it happened to him. Would\n he wait out his time, or just unlock\n his helmet.\n\n\n Guns' drawl broke into his reverie.\n \"Say, cap'n, Ah've been readin' in\n this magazine about a trick they used\n to use, called skip bombin'. They'd\n hang a bomb on the bottom of one\n of these airplanes, and fly along the\n ground, right at what they wanted\n to hit. Then they'd let the bomb go\n and get out of there, and the bomb\n would sail right on into the target.\n You s'pose we could fix this buggy\n up with an A bomb or an H bomb\n we could let go a few hundred miles\n out? Stick a proximity fuse on it, and\n a time fuse, too, in case we missed.\n Just sittin' half a mile apart and\n tradin' shots like we did on that last\n mission is kinda hard on mah nerves,\n and it's startin' to happen too often.\"\n\n\n \"Nice work if we could get it.\n I'm not crazy about those broadside\n battles myself. You'd think they'd\n have found something better than\n these thirty caliber popguns by now,\n but the odds say we've got to throw\n as many different chunks of iron as\n we can, to have a chance of hitting\n anything, and even then it's twenty\n to one against us. You wouldn't have\n one chance in a thousand of scoring\n a hit with a bomb at that distance,\n even if they didn't spot it and take\n off. What you'd need would be a\n rocket that could chase them, with\n the bomb for a head. And there's no\n way we could carry that size rocket,\n or fire it if we could. Some day these\n crates will come with men's rooms,\n and we'll have a place to carry something\n like that.\"\n\n\n \"How big would a rocket like that\n be?\"\n\n\n \"Five, six feet, by maybe a foot.\n Weigh at least three hundred\n pounds.\"\n\n\n It was five minutes before Guns\n spoke again. \"Ah been thinkin',\n cap'n. With a little redecoratin', Ah\n think Ah could get a rocket that size\n in here with me. We could weld a\n rail to one of the gun mounts that\n would hold it up to five or six G's.\n Then after we got away from station,\n Ah could take it outside and mount\n it on the rail.\"\n\n\n \"Forget it, lad. If they ever caught\n us pulling a trick like that, they'd\n have us on hydroponic duty for the\n next five years. They just don't want\n us playing around with bombs, till\n the experts get all the angles figured\n out, and build ships to handle them.\n And besides, who do you think will\n rig a bomb like that, without anybody\n finding out? And where do you think\n we'd get a bomb in the first place?\n They don't leave those things lying\n around. Kovacs watches them like a\n mother hen. I think he counts them\n twice a day.\"\n\n\n \"Sorry, cap'n. Ah just figured if\n you could get hold of a bomb, Ah\n know a few of the boys who could\n rig the thing up for us and keep\n their mouths shut.\"\n\n\n \"Well, forget about it. It's not a\n bad idea, but we haven't any bomb.\"\n\n\n \"Right, cap'n.\"\nBut it was Paul who couldn't forget\n about it. All the rest of the way\n back to station, he kept seeing visions\n of a panel sliding aside in the nose\n of a sleek and gleaming ship, while\n a small rocket pushed its deadly snout\n forward, and then streaked off at\n tremendous acceleration.\n\n\n Interrogation was brief. The mission\n had turned up nothing new.\n Their kill made eight against seven\n for Doc Miller's crew, and they made\n sure Miller and the boys heard about\n it. They were lightheaded with the\n elation that followed a successful\n mission, swapping insults with the\n rest of the squadron, and reveling in\n the sheer contentment of being back\n safe.\n\n\n It wasn't until he got back to his\n stall, and started to write his father\n a long overdue letter, that he remembered\n he had heard Kovacs say he\n was going on leave.\n\n\n When he finished the letter, he\n opened the copy of \"Lady Chatterley's\n Lover\" he had borrowed from\n Rodriguez's limited but colorful library.\n He couldn't keep his mind on\n it. He kept thinking of the armament\n officer.\n\n\n Kovacs was a quiet, intelligent kid,\n devoted to his work. Coulter wasn't\n too intimate with him. He wasn't a\n spaceman, for one thing. One of those\n illogical but powerful distinctions\n that sub-divided the men of the station.\n And he was a little too polite to\n be easy company.\n\n\n Paul remembered the time he had\n walked into the Muroc Base Officer's\n Club with Marge Halpern on his\n arm. The hunger that had lain undisguised\n on Kovacs' face the moment\n he first saw them. Marge was\n a striking blonde with a direct manner,\n who liked men, especially orbit\n station men. He hadn't thought about\n the incident since then, but the look\n in Kovacs' eyes kept coming back to\n him as he tried to read.\n\n\n He wasn't sure how he got there,\n or why, when he found himself walking\n into Colonel Silton's office to ask\n for the leave he'd passed up at his\n fiftieth mission. He'd considered taking\n it several times, but the thought\n of leaving the squadron, even for a\n couple of weeks, had made him feel\n guilty, as though he were quitting.\n\n\n Once he had his papers, he started\n to get excited about it. As he cleaned\n up his paper work and packed his\n musette, his hands were fumbling,\n and his mind was full of Sylvia.\nThe vastness of Muroc Base was as\n incredible as ever. Row on uncounted\n row of neat buildings, each resting at\n the top of its own hundred-yard\n deep elevator shaft. A pulsing, throbbing\n city, dedicated to the long slow\n struggle to get into space and stay\n there. The service crew eyed them\n with studied indifference, as they\n writhed out of the small hatch and\n stepped to the ground. They drew a\n helijet at operations, and headed immediately\n for Los Angeles.\n\n\n Kovacs had been impressed when\n Paul asked if he'd care to room together\n while they were on leave. He\n was quiet on the flight, as he had\n been on the way down, listening contentedly,\n while Paul talked combat\n and women with Bob Parandes, another\n pilot going on leave.\n\n\n They parked the helijet at Municipal\n Field and headed for the public\n PV booths, picking up a coterie of\n two dogs and five assorted children\n on the way. The kids followed quietly\n in their wake, ecstatic at the sight of\n their uniforms.\n\n\n Paul squared his shoulders, as befitted\n a hero, and tousled a couple of\n uncombed heads as they walked. The\n kids clustered around the booths, as\n Kovacs entered one to locate a hotel\n room, and Paul another, to call\n Sylvia.\n\n\n \"Honey, I've been so scared you\n weren't coming back. Where are you?\n When will I see you? Why didn't\n you write?...\" She sputtered to a\n stop as he held up both hands in\n defense.\n\n\n \"Whoa, baby. One thing at a time.\n I'm at the airport. You'll see me tonight,\n and I'll tell you the rest then.\n That is, if you're free tonight. And\n tomorrow. And the day after, and\n the day after that. Are you free?\"\n\n\n Her hesitation was only momentary.\n \"Well, I was going out—with\n a girl friend. But she'll understand.\n What's up?\"\n\n\n He took a deep breath. \"I'd like\n to get out of the city for a few days,\n where we can take things easy and\n be away from the crowds. And there\n is another guy I'd like to bring\n along.\"\n\n\n \"We could take my helijet out to\n my dad's cottage at—\nWhat did you\n say?\n\"\n\n\n It was a ticklish job explaining\n about Kovacs, but when she understood\n that he just wanted to do a\n friend a favor, and she'd still have\n Paul all to herself, she calmed down.\n They made their arrangements quickly,\n and switched off.\n\n\n He hesitated a minute before he\n called Marge. She was quite a dish\n to give up. Once she'd seen him with\n Sylvia, he'd be strictly\npersona non\n grata\n—that was for sure. It was an\n unhappy thought. Well, maybe it was\n in a good cause. He shrugged and\n called her.\n\n\n She nearly cut him off when she\n first heard his request, but he did\n some fast talking. The idea of several\n days at the cottage intrigued her, and\n when he described how smitten\n Kovacs had been, she brightened up\n and agreed to come. He switched off,\n adjusted the drape of his genuine\n silk scarf, and stepped out of the\n booth.\n\n\n Kovacs and the kids were waiting.\n The armament officer had apparently\n been telling them of Paul's exploits.\n They glowed with admiration. The\n oldest boy, about eleven, had true\n worship in his eyes. He hesitated a\n moment, then asked gravely: \"Would\n you tell us how you kill a Red, sir?\"\n\n\n Paul eyed the time-honored weapon\n that dangled from the youngster's\n hand. He bent over and tapped it\n with his finger. His voice was warm\n and confiding, but his eyes were far\n away.\n\n\n \"I think next we're going to try\n a slingshot,\" he said.\nTHE END\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAstounding Science Fiction\nNovember 1955.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright\n on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors\n have been corrected without note.\n***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLINGSHOT***\n\n\n ******* This file should be named 22462-h.txt or 22462-h.zip *******\n\n\n This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:\n\n http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/4/6/22462\n\n\n Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions\n will be renamed.\n\n\n Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no\n one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation\n (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without\n permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,\n set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to\n copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to\n protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project\n Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you\n charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you\n do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the\n rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose\n such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and\n research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do\n practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is\n subject to the trademark license, especially commercial\n redistribution.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is Sylvia's relation to Paul?", "question_unique_id": "22462_F944PNS1_1", "options": ["She is his wife", "She is a girl in a magazine", "She is his girlfriend", "She went to the Officers Ball with him once"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What edge did the Americans have over the Reds in the air?", "question_unique_id": "22462_F944PNS1_2", "options": ["Faster and more efficient ships", "Rockets instead of guns", "Stronger radar technology", "More quantity of troops and ships"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is implied that happened to the American Moon station?", "question_unique_id": "22462_F944PNS1_3", "options": ["The Reds destroyed it", "There was not enough funding to support it", "It fell into a crater", "It failed due to incompetence"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is unorthodox about Coulter and Garrities' navigation?", "question_unique_id": "22462_F944PNS1_4", "options": ["They used experimental ships with the cockpit on gimbals", "They used the Solter coordinates", "They spoke to one-another more than usual", "They used a simple up/down and clock system"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Paul think that \"these three minutes\" were the worst?", "question_unique_id": "22462_F944PNS1_5", "options": ["The possibility of colliding with the enemy", "The high amount of G-forces he experiences", "The fact that he would run out of fuel after three minutes", "The anticipation before firing on a target"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the ping sound that Coulter heard?", "question_unique_id": "22462_F944PNS1_6", "options": ["An enemy bullet hitting his ship", "The enemy ship barely scraping his", "A command from Johnson, the navigator", "His bullet hitting the enemy"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was Paul's solution for not having to be in broadside battles anymore?", "question_unique_id": "22462_F944PNS1_7", "options": ["Using more of an element of surprise", "Firing on enemy ships from the ground", "Sending younger pilots instead of him", "Using rockets instead of traditional machine guns"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Paul invite Kovacs to the cottage with Sylvia?", "question_unique_id": "22462_F944PNS1_8", "options": ["So he wouldn't have to be alone with Sylvia", "To surprise him with Marge and win his favor", "To celebrate the victory during the battle", "So he could try and win over Marge from Kovacs"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/4/6/22462//22462-h//22462-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22524", "set_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Hunters", "year": 1950, "author": "Samachson, Joseph", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "THE HUNTERS\nBY WILLIAM MORRISON\nILLUSTRATED BY VAN DONGEN\nTo all who didn't know him, Curt George was a\n mighty hunter and actor. But this time he was\n up against others who could really act, and\n whose business was the hunting of whole worlds.\n\n\n There were thirty or more of\n the little girls, their ages ranging\n apparently from nine to\n eleven, all of them chirping\n away like a flock of chicks as\n they followed the old mother hen\n past the line of cages. \"Now,\n now, girls,\" called Miss Burton\n cheerily. \"Don't scatter. I can't\n keep my eye on you if you get\n too far away from me. You,\n Hilda, give me that water pistol.\n No, don't fill it up first at that\n fountain. And Frances, stop\n bouncing your ball. You'll lose it\n through the bars, and a polar\n bear may get it and not want to\n give it back.\"\n\n\n Frances giggled. \"Oh, Miss\n Burton, do you think the polar\n bear would want to play catch?\"\n\n\n The two men who were looking\n on wore pleased smiles.\n \"Charming,\" said Manto. \"But\n somewhat unpredictable, despite\n all our experiences,\n muy amigo\n .\"\n\n\n \"No attempts at Spanish, Manto,\n not here. It calls attention to\n us. And you are not sure of the\n grammar anyway. You may find\n yourself saying things you do\n not intend.\"\n\n\n \"Sorry, Palit. It wasn't an attempt\n to show my skill, I assure\n you. It's that by now I have a\n tendency to confuse one language\n with another.\"\n\n\n \"I know. You were never a linguist.\n But about these interesting\n creatures—\"\n\n\n \"I suggest that they could\n stand investigation. It would be\n good to know how they think.\"\n\n\n \"Whatever you say, Manto. If\n you wish, we shall join the little\n ladies.\"\n\n\n \"We must have our story prepared\n first.\"\n\n\n Palit nodded, and the two men\n stepped under the shade of a\n tree whose long, drooping, leaf-covered\n branches formed a convenient\n screen. For a moment,\n the tree hid silence. Then there\n came from beneath the branches\n the chatter of girlish voices, and\n two little girls skipped merrily\n away. Miss Burton did not at\n first notice that now she had an\n additional two children in her\n charge.\n\n\n \"Do you think you will be able\n to keep your English straight?\"\n asked one of the new little girls.\n\n\n The other one smiled with\n amusement and at first did not\n answer. Then she began to skip\n around her companion and\n chant, \"I know a secret, I know\n a secret.\"\n\n\n There was no better way to\n make herself inconspicuous. For\n some time, Miss Burton did not\n notice her.\nThe polar bears, the grizzlies,\n the penguins, the reptiles, all\n were left behind. At times the\n children scattered, but Miss Burton\n knew how to get them together\n again, and not one was\n lost.\n\n\n \"Here, children, is the building\n where the kangaroos live.\n Who knows where kangaroos\n come from?\"\n\n\n \"Australia!\" clanged the shrill\n chorus.\n\n\n \"That's right. And what other\n animals come from Australia?\"\n\n\n \"I know, Miss Burton!\" cried\n Frances, a dark-haired nine-year-old\n with a pair of glittering\n eyes that stared like a pair\n of critics from a small heart-shaped\n face. \"I've been here before.\n Wallabies and wombats!\"\n\n\n \"Very good, Frances.\"\n\n\n Frances smirked at the approbation.\n \"I've been to the zoo\n lots of times,\" she said to the\n girl next to her. \"My father\n takes me.\"\n\n\n \"I wish my father would take\n me too,\" replied the other little\n girl, with an air of wistfulness.\n\n\n \"Why don't you ask him to?\"\n Before the other little girl could\n answer, Frances paused, cocked\n her head slightly, and demanded,\n \"Who are you? You aren't in our\n class.\"\n\n\n \"I'm in Miss Hassel's class.\"\n\n\n \"Miss Hassel? Who is she? Is\n she in our school?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" said the other\n little girl uncertainly. \"I go to\n P. S. 77—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Miss Burton,\" screamed\n Frances. \"Here's a girl who isn't\n in our class! She got lost from\n her own class!\"\n\"Really?\" Miss Burton seemed\n rather pleased at the idea that\n some other teacher had been so\n careless as to lose one of her\n charges. \"What's your name,\n child?\"\n\n\n \"I'm Carolyn.\"\n\n\n \"Carolyn what?\"\n\n\n \"Carolyn Manto. Please, Miss\n Burton, I had to go to the bathroom,\n and then when I came\n out—\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, I know.\"\n\n\n A shrill cry came from another\n section of her class. \"Oh, Miss\n Burton, here's another one who's\n lost!\"\n\n\n The other little girl was\n pushed forward. \"Now, who are\n you\n ?\" Miss Burton asked.\n\n\n \"I'm Doris Palit. I went with\n Carolyn to the bathroom—\"\nMiss Burton made a sound of\n annoyance. Imagine losing\n two\n children and not noticing it right\n away. The other teacher must\n be frantic by now, and serve her\n right for being so careless.\n\n\n \"All right, you may stay with\n us until we find a policeman—\"\n She interrupted herself. \"Frances,\n what are you giggling at\n now?\"\n\n\n \"It's Carolyn. She's making\n faces just like you!\"\n\n\n \"Really, Carolyn, that isn't at\n all nice!\"\n\n\n Carolyn's face altered itself in\n a hurry, so as to lose any resemblance\n to Miss Burton's. \"I'm\n sorry, Miss Burton, I didn't\n really mean to do anything\n wrong.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I'd like to know how\n you were brought up, if you\n don't know that it's wrong to\n mimic people to their faces. A\n big girl like you, too. How old\n are you, Carolyn?\"\n\n\n Carolyn shrank, she hoped imperceptibly,\n by an inch. \"I'm\n two—\"\n\n\n An outburst of shrill laughter.\n \"She's two years old, she's\n two years old!\"\n\n\n \"I was going to say, I'm\n to\n welve\n . Almost, anyway.\"\n\n\n \"Eleven years old,\" said Miss\n Burton. \"Old enough to know\n better.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Miss Burton. And\n honest, Miss Burton, I didn't\n mean anything, but I'm studying\n to be an actress, and I imitate\n people, like the actors you\n see on television—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Miss Burton, please don't\n make her go home with a policeman.\n If she's going to be an\n actress, I'll bet she'd love to see\n Curt George!\"\n\n\n \"Well, after the way she's behaved,\n I don't know whether I\n should let her. I really don't.\"\n\n\n \"Please, Miss Burton, it was\n an accident. I won't do it again.\"\n\n\n \"All right, if you're good, and\n cause no trouble. But we still\n have plenty of time before seeing\n Mr. George. It's only two now,\n and we're not supposed to go to\n the lecture hall until four.\"\n\n\n \"Miss Burton,\" called Barbara\n Willman, \"do you think he'd give\n us his autograph?\"\n\n\n \"Now, children, I've warned\n you about that. You mustn't\n annoy him. Mr. George is a famous\n movie actor, and his time\n is valuable. It's very kind of him\n to offer to speak to us, especially\n when so many grown-up people\n are anxious to hear him, but\n we mustn't take advantage of his\n kindness.\"\n\n\n \"But he likes children, Miss\n Burton! My big sister read in a\n movie magazine where it said\n he's just crazy about them.\"\n\n\n \"I know, but—he's not in good\n health, children. They say he got\n jungle fever in Africa, where he\n was shooting all those lions, and\n rhinoceroses, and elephants for\n his new picture. That's why you\n mustn't bother him too much.\"\n\n\n \"But he looks so big and\n strong, Miss Burton. It wouldn't\n hurt him to sign an autograph!\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes, it would,\" asserted\n one little girl. \"He shakes. When\n he has an attack of fever, his\n hand shakes.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Africa is a dangerous\n continent, and one never knows\n how the dangers will strike one,\"\n said Miss Burton complacently.\n \"So we must all remember how\n bravely Mr. George is fighting\n his misfortune, and do our best\n not to tire him out.\"\nIn the bright light that flooded\n the afternoon breakfast table,\n Curt George's handsome, manly\n face wore an expression of distress.\n He groaned dismally, and\n muttered, \"What a head I've got,\n what a head. How do you expect\n me to face that gang of kids\n without a drink to pick me up?\"\n\n\n \"You've had your drink,\" said\n Carol. She was slim, attractive,\n and efficient. At the moment she\n was being more efficient than attractive,\n and she could sense his\n resentment. \"That's all you get.\n Now, lay off, and try to be\n reasonably sober, for a change.\"\n\n\n \"But those kids! They'll squeal\n and giggle—\"\n\n\n \"They're about the only audience\n in the world that won't\n spot you as a drunk. God knows\n where I could find any one else\n who'd believe that your hand\n shakes because of fever.\"\n\n\n \"I know that you're looking\n out for my best interests, Carol.\n But one more drink wouldn't\n hurt me.\"\n\n\n She said wearily, but firmly, \"I\n don't argue with drunks, Curt. I\n just go ahead and protect them\n from themselves. No drinks.\"\n\n\n \"Afterwards?\"\n\n\n \"I can't watch you the way a\n mother watches a child.\"\n\n\n The contemptuous reply sent\n his mind off on a new tack. \"You\n could if we were married.\"\n\n\n \"I've never believed in marrying\n weak characters to reform\n them.\"\n\n\n \"But if I proved to you that I\n could change—\"\n\n\n \"Prove it first, and I'll consider\n your proposal afterwards.\"\n\n\n \"You certainly are a cold-blooded\n creature, Carol. But I\n suppose that in your profession\n you have to be.\"\n\n\n \"Cold, suspicious, nasty—and\n reliable. It's inevitable when I\n must deal with such warm-hearted,\n trusting, and unreliable\n clients.\"\n\n\n He watched her move about\n the room, clearing away the\n dishes from his meager breakfast.\n \"What are you humming,\n Carol?\"\n\n\n \"Was I humming?\"\n\n\n \"I thought I recognized it—\n All\n of Me, Why Not Take All of\n Me\n ? That's it! Your subconscious\n gives you away. You really\n want to marry me!\"\n\n\n \"A mistake,\" she said coolly.\n \"My subconscious doesn't know\n what it's talking about. All I\n want of you is the usual ten per\n cent.\"\n\n\n \"Can't you forget for a moment\n that you're an agent, and\n remember that you're a woman,\n too?\"\n\n\n \"No. Not unless you forget\n that you're a drunk, and remember\n that you're a man. Not unless\n you make me forget that you\n drank your way through\n Africa—\"\n\n\n \"Because you weren't there\n with me!\"\n\n\n \"—with hardly enough energy\n to let them dress you in that\n hunter's outfit and photograph\n you as if you were shooting\n lions.\"\n\n\n \"You're so unforgiving, Carol.\n You don't have much use for me,\n do you—consciously, that is?\"\n\n\n \"Frankly, Curt, no. I don't\n have much use for useless people.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not entirely useless. I\n earn you that ten per cent—\"\n\n\n \"I'd gladly forego that to see\n you sober.\"\n\n\n \"But it's your contempt for me\n that drives me to drink. And\n when I think of having to face\n those dear little kiddies with\n nothing inside me—\"\n\n\n \"There should be happiness inside\n you at the thought of your\n doing a good deed. Not a drop,\n George, not a drop.\"\nThe two little girls drew apart\n from the others and began to\n whisper into each other's ears.\n The whispers were punctuated\n by giggles which made the entire\n childish conversation seem quite\n normal. But Palit was in no\n laughing mood. He said, in his\n own language, \"You're getting\n careless, Manto. You had no\n business imitating her expression.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Palit, but it was\n so suggestive. And I'm a very\n suggestible person.\"\n\n\n \"So am I. But I control myself.\"\n\n\n \"Still, if the temptation were\n great enough, I don't think you'd\n be able to resist either.\"\n\n\n \"The issues are important\n enough to make me resist.\"\n\n\n \"Still, I thought I saw your\n own face taking on a bit of her\n expression too.\"\n\n\n \"You are imagining things,\n Manto. Another thing, that mistake\n in starting to say you were\n two hundred years old—\"\n\n\n \"They would have thought it\n a joke. And I think I got out of\n that rather neatly.\"\n\n\n \"You like to skate on thin ice,\n don't you, Manto? Just as you\n did when you changed your\n height. You had no business\n shrinking right out in public like\n that.\"\n\n\n \"I did it skillfully. Not a\n single person noticed.\"\n\n\n \"\n I\n noticed.\"\n\n\n \"Don't quibble.\"\n\n\n \"I don't intend to. Some of\n these children have very sharp\n eyes. You'd be surprised at what\n they see.\"\n\n\n Manto said tolerantly, \"You're\n getting jittery, Palit. We've\n been away from home too long.\"\n\n\n \"I am not jittery in the least.\n But I believe in taking due care.\"\n\n\n \"What could possibly happen\n to us? If we were to announce\n to the children and the teacher,\n and to every one in this zoo, for\n that matter, exactly who and\n what we were, they wouldn't believe\n us. And even if they did,\n they wouldn't be able to act rapidly\n enough to harm us.\"\n\n\n \"You never can tell about such\n things. Wise—people—simply\n don't take unnecessary chances.\"\n\n\n \"I'll grant that you're my superior\n in such wisdom.\"\n\n\n \"You needn't be sarcastic,\n Manto, I\n know\n I'm superior.\n I\n realize what a godsend this\n planet is—you don't. It has the\n right gravity, a suitable atmosphere,\n the proper chemical composition—everything.\"\n\n\n \"Including a population that\n will be helpless before us.\"\n\n\n \"And you would take chances\n of losing all this.\"\n\n\n \"Don't be silly, Palit. What\n chances am I taking?\"\n\n\n \"The chance of being discovered.\n Here we stumble on this\n place quite by accident. No one\n at home knows about it, no one\n so much as suspects that it exists.\n We must get back and report—and\n you do all sorts of silly\n things which may reveal what\n we are, and lead these people to\n suspect their danger.\"\nThis time, Manto's giggle was\n no longer mere camouflage, but\n expressed to a certain degree\n how he felt. \"They cannot possibly\n suspect. We have been all\n over the world, we have taken\n many forms and adapted ourselves\n to many customs, and no\n one has suspected. And even if\n danger really threatened, it\n would be easy to escape. I could\n take the form of the school\n teacher herself, of a policeman,\n of any one in authority. However,\n at present there is not the\n slightest shadow of danger. So,\n Palit, you had better stop being\n fearful.\"\n\n\n Palit said firmly, \"Be careful,\n and I won't be fearful. That's all\n there is to it.\"\n\n\n \"I'll be careful. After all, I\n shouldn't want us to lose these\n children. They're so exactly the\n kind we need. Look how inquiring\n they are, how unafraid, how\n quick to adapt to any circumstances—\"\n\n\n Miss Burton's voice said,\n \"Good gracious, children, what\n language\n are\n you using? Greek?\"\n\n\n They had been speaking too\n loud, they had been overheard.\n Palit and Manto stared at each\n other, and giggled coyly. Then,\n after a second to think, Palit\n said, \"Onay, Issmay Urtonbay!\"\n\n\n \"What?\"\n\n\n Frances shrilled triumphantly,\n \"It isn't Greek, Miss Burton, it's\n Latin—Pig-Latin. She said,\n 'No, Miss Burton.'\"\n\n\n \"Good heavens, what is Pig-Latin?\"\n\n\n \"It's a kind of way of talking\n where you talk kind of backwards.\n Like, you don't say,\n Me\n ,\n you say,\n Emay\n .\"\n\n\n \"You don't say,\n Yes\n , you say\n Esyay\n ,\" added another little girl.\n\n\n \"You don't say,\n You\n , you say,\n Ouyay\n . You don't say—\"\n\n\n \"All right, all right, I get the\n idea.\"\n\n\n \"You don't say—\"\n\n\n \"That'll do,\" said Miss Burton\n firmly. \"Now, let's get along\n to the lion house. And please,\n children, do not make faces at\n the lions. How would you like to\n be in a cage and have people\n make faces at you? Always remember\n to be considerate to\n others.\"\n\n\n \"Even lions, Miss Burton?\"\n\n\n \"Even lions.\"\n\n\n \"But Mr. George shot lots of\n lions. Was he considerate of them\n too?\"\n\n\n \"There is no time for silly\n questions,\" said Miss Burton,\n with the same firmness. \"Come\n along.\"\n\n\n They all trouped after her,\n Palit and Manto bringing up the\n rear. Manto giggled, and whispered\n with amusement, \"That\n Pig-Latin business was quick\n thinking, Palit. But in fact, quite\n unnecessary. The things that you\n do to avoid being suspected!\"\n\n\n \"It never hurts to take precautions.\n And I think that now it is\n time to leave.\"\n\n\n \"No, not yet. You are always\n anxious to learn details before\n reporting. Why not learn a few\n more details now?\"\n\n\n \"Because they are not necessary.\n We already have a good\n understanding of human customs\n and psychology.\"\n\n\n \"But not of the psychology of\n children. And they, if you remember,\n are the ones who will\n have to adapt. We shall be asked\n about them. It would be nice if\n we could report that they are fit\n for all-purpose service, on a wide\n range of planets. Let us stay\n awhile longer.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" conceded Palit,\n grudgingly.\nSo they stayed, and out of\n some twigs and leaves they\n shaped the necessary coins with\n which to buy peanuts, and popcorn,\n and ice cream, and other\n delicacies favored by the young.\n Manto wanted to win easy popularity\n by treating a few of the\n other children, but Palit put his\n girlish foot down. No use arousing\n suspicion. Even as it was—\n\n\n \"Gee, your father gives you an\n awful lot of spending money,\"\n said Frances enviously. \"Is he\n rich?\"\n\n\n \"We get as much as we want,\"\n replied Manto carelessly.\n\n\n \"Gosh, I wish I did.\"\n\n\n Miss Burton collected her\n brood. \"Come together, children,\n I have something to say to you.\n Soon it will be time to go in and\n hear Mr. George. Now, if Mr.\n George is so kind as to entertain\n us, don't you think that it's only\n proper for us to entertain him?\"\n\n\n \"We could put on our class\n play!\" yelled Barbara.\n\n\n \"Barbara's a fine one to talk,\"\n said Frances. \"She doesn't even\n remember her lines.\"\n\n\n \"No, children, we mustn't do\n anything we can't do well. That\n wouldn't make a good impression.\n And besides, there is no\n time for a play. Perhaps Barbara\n will sing—\"\n\n\n \"I can sing a 'Thank You'\n song,\" interrupted Frances.\n\n\n \"That would be nice.\"\n\n\n \"I can recite,\" added another\n little girl.\n\n\n \"Fine. How about you, Carolyn?\n You and your little friend,\n Doris. Can she act too?\"\n\n\n Carolyn giggled. \"Oh, yes, she\n can act very well. I can act like\n people. She can act like animals.\"\n The laughing, girlish eyes evaded\n a dirty look from the little\n friend. \"She can act like\n any\n kind of animal.\"\n\n\n \"She's certainly a talented\n child. But she seems so shy!\"\n\n\n \"Oh, no,\" said Carolyn. \"She\n likes to be coaxed.\"\n\n\n \"She shouldn't be like that.\n Perhaps, Carolyn, you and Doris\n can do something together. And\n perhaps, too, Mr. George will be\n pleased to see that your teacher\n also has talent.\"\n\n\n \"You, Miss Burton?\"\n\n\n Miss Burton coughed modestly.\n \"Yes, children, I never told you,\n but I was once ambitious to be\n an actress too. I studied dramatics,\n and really, I was quite\n good at it. I was told that if I\n persevered I might actually be\n famous. Just think, your teacher\n might actually have been a famous\n actress! However, in my\n day, there were many coarse people\n on the stage, and the life of\n the theater was not attractive—but\n perhaps we'd better not\n speak of that. At any rate, I\n know the principles of the dramatic\n art very well.\"\n\"God knows what I'll have to\n go through,\" said Curt. \"And I\n don't see how I can take it\n sober.\"\n\n\n \"I don't see how they can take\n you drunk,\" replied Carol.\n\n\n \"Why go through with it at\n all? Why not call the whole thing\n quits?\"\n\n\n \"Because people are depending\n on you. You always want to call\n quits whenever you run into\n something you don't like. You\n may as well call quits to your\n contract if that's the way you\n feel.\"\n\n\n \"And to your ten per cent,\n darling.\"\n\n\n \"You think I'd mind that. I\n work for my ten per cent, Curt,\n sweetheart. I work too damn\n hard for that ten per cent.\"\n\n\n \"You can marry me and take\n it easy. Honest, Carol, if you\n treated me better, if you showed\n me I meant something to you,\n I'd give up drinking.\"\n\n\n She made a face. \"Don't talk\n nonsense. Take your outfit, and\n let's get ready to go. Unless you\n want to change here, and walk\n around dressed as a lion hunter.\"\n\n\n \"Why not? I've walked around\n dressed as worse. A drunk.\"\n\n\n \"Drunks don't attract attention.\n They're too ordinary.\"\n\n\n \"But a drunken lion hunter—that's\n something special.\" He\n went into the next room and began\n to change. \"Carol,\" he\n called. \"Do you like me?\"\n\n\n \"At times.\"\n\n\n \"Would you say that you liked\n me very much?\"\n\n\n \"When you're sober. Rarely.\"\n\n\n \"Love me?\"\n\n\n \"Once in a blue moon.\"\n\n\n \"What would I have to do for\n you to want to marry me?\"\n\n\n \"Amount to something.\"\n\n\n \"I like that. Don't you think I\n amount to something now?\n Women swoon at the sight of my\n face on the screen, and come to\n life again at the sound of my\n voice.\"\n\n\n \"The women who swoon at you\n will swoon at anybody. Besides,\n I don't consider that making nitwits\n swoon is a useful occupation\n for a real man.\"\n\n\n \"How can I be useful, Carol?\n No one ever taught me how.\"\n\n\n \"Some people manage without\n being taught.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose I could think how\n if I had a drink inside me.\"\n\n\n \"Then you'll have to do without\n thinking.\"\n\n\n He came into the room again,\n powerful, manly, determined-looking.\n There was an expression\n in his eye which indicated\n courage without end, a courage\n that would enable him to brave\n the wrath of man, beast, or devil.\n\n\n \"How do I look?\"\n\n\n \"Your noble self, of course. A\n poor woman's edition of Rudolph\n Valentino.\"\n\n\n \"I feel terrified. I don't know\n how I'm going to face those kids.\n If they were boys it wouldn't be\n so bad, but a bunch of little\n girls!\"\n\n\n \"They'll grow up to be your\n fans, if you're still alive five\n years from now. Meanwhile, into\n each life some rain must fall.\"\n\n\n \"You would talk of water,\n when you know how I feel.\"\n\n\n \"Sorry. Come on, let's go.\"\nThe lecture hall resounded\n with giggles. And beneath the\n giggles was a steady undercurrent\n of whispers, of girlish confidences\n exchanged, of girlish\n hopes that would now be fulfilled.\n Miss Burton's class was\n not the only one which had come\n to hear the famous actor-hunter\n describe his brave exploits. There\n were at least five others like it,\n and by some mistake, a class of\n boys, who also whispered to each\n other, in manly superiority, and\n pretended to find amusement in\n the presence of so many of the\n fairer sex.\n\n\n In this atmosphere of giggles\n and whispers, Manto and Palit\n could exchange confidences without\n being noticed. Palit said savagely,\n \"Why did you tell her that\n I could act too?\"\n\n\n \"Why, because it's the truth.\n You're a very good animal performer.\n You make a wonderful\n dragon, for instance. Go on,\n Palit, show her what a fine\n dragon you can—\"\n\n\n \"Stop it, you fool, before you\n cause trouble!\"\n\n\n \"Very well, Palit. Did I tempt\n you?\"\n\n\n \"Did you tempt me! You and\n your sense of humor!\"\n\n\n \"You and your lack of it! But\n let's not argue now, Palit. Here,\n I think, comes the lion-hunter.\n Let's scream, and be as properly\n excited as every one else is.\"\nMy God, he thought, how can\n they keep their voices so high\n so long? My eardrums hurt already.\n How do they stand a lifetime\n of it? Even an hour?\n\n\n \"Go ahead,\" whispered Carol.\n \"You've seen the script—go into\n your act. Tell them what a hero\n you are. You have the odds in\n your favor to start with.\"\n\n\n \"My lovely looks,\" he said,\n with some bitterness.\n\n\n \"Lovely is the word for you.\n But forget that. If you're good—you'll\n get a drink afterwards.\"\n\n\n \"Will it be one of those occasions\n when you love me?\"\n\n\n \"If the moon turns blue.\"\n\n\n He strode to the front of the\n platform, an elephant gun swinging\n easily at his side, an easy\n grin radiating from his confident,\n rugged face. The cheers\n rose to a shrill fortissimo, but\n the grin did not vanish. What a\n great actor he really was, he told\n himself, to be able to pretend he\n liked this.\n\n\n An assistant curator of some\n collection in the zoo, a flustered\n old woman, was introducing him.\n There were a few laudatory references\n to his great talents as an\n actor, and he managed to look\n properly modest as he listened.\n The remarks about his knowledge\n of wild and ferocious beasts\n were a little harder to take, but\n he took them. Then the old\n woman stepped back, and he was\n facing his fate alone.\n\n\n \"Children,\" he began. A pause,\n a bashful grin. \"Perhaps I\n should rather say, my friends.\n I'm not one to think of you as\n children. Some people think of\n me as a child myself, because I\n like to hunt, and have adventures.\n They think that such\n things are childish. But if they\n are, I'm glad to be a child. I'm\n glad to be one of you. Yes, I\n think I\n will\n call you my friends.\n\n\n \"Perhaps you regard me, my\n friends, as a very lucky person.\n But when I recall some of the\n narrow escapes I have had, I\n don't agree with you. I remember\n once, when we were on the\n trail of a rogue elephant—\"\n\n\n He told the story of the rogue\n elephant, modestly granting a co-hero's\n role to his guide. Then\n another story illustrating the\n strange ways of lions. The elephant\n gun figured in still another\n tale, this time of a vicious\n rhinoceros. His audience was\n quiet now, breathless with interest,\n and he welcomed the respite\n from shrillness he had won\n for his ears.\n\n\n \"And now, my friends, it is\n time to say farewell.\" He actually\n looked sad and regretful.\n \"But it is my hope that I shall\n be able to see you again—\"\n\n\n Screams of exultation, shrill\n as ever, small hands beating\n enthusiastically to indicate joy.\n Thank God that's over with, he\n thought. Now for those drinks—and\n he didn't mean drink,\n singular. Talk of being useful,\n he'd certainly been useful now.\n He'd made those kids happy.\n What more can any reasonable\n person want?\nBut it wasn't over with. Another\n old lady had stepped up on\n the platform.\n\n\n \"Mr. George,\" she said, in a\n strangely affected voice, like that\n of the first dramatic teacher he\n had ever had, the one who had\n almost ruined his acting career.\n \"Mr. George, I can't tell you\n how happy you have made us all,\n young and old. Hasn't Mr.\n George made us happy, children?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Miss Burton!\" came the\n shrill scream.\n\n\n \"And we feel that it would be\n no more than fair to repay you\n in some small measure for the\n pleasure you have given us.\n First, a 'Thank You' song by\n Frances Heller—\"\n\n\n He hadn't expected this, and\n he repressed a groan. Mercifully,\n the first song was short.\n He grinned the thanks he didn't\n feel. To think that he could take\n this, while sober as a judge!\n What strength of character,\n what will-power!\n\n\n Next, Miss Burton introduced\n another kid, who recited. And\n then, Miss Burton stood upright\n and recited herself.\n\n\n That was the worst of all. He\n winced once, then bore up. You\n can get used even to torture, he\n told himself. An adult making a\n fool of herself is always more\n painful than a kid. And that\n affected elocutionist's voice gave\n him the horrors. But he thanked\n her too. His good deed for the\n day. Maybe Carol would have\n him now, he thought.\n\n\n A voice shrilled, \"Miss Burton?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, dear?\"\n\n\n \"Aren't you going to call on\n Carolyn to act?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes, I was forgetting.\n Come up here, Carolyn, come up,\n Doris. Carolyn and Doris, Mr.\n George, are studying how to act.\n They act people\n and\n animals.\n Who knows? Some day they, too,\n may be in the movies, just as you\n are, Mr. George. Wouldn't that\n be nice, children?\"\n\n\n What the devil do you do in a\n case like that? You grin, of\n course—but what do you say,\n without handing over your soul\n to the devil? Agree how nice it\n would be to have those sly little\n brats with faces magnified on\n every screen all over the country?\n Like hell you do.\n\n\n \"Now, what are we going to\n act, children?\"\n\n\n \"Please, Miss Burton,\" said\n Doris. \"I don't know how to act.\n I can't even imitate a puppy.\n Really I can't, Miss Burton—\"\n\n\n \"Come, come, mustn't be shy.\n Your friend says that you act\n very nicely indeed. Can't want to\n go on the stage and still be shy.\n Now, do you know any movie\n scenes? Shirley Temple used to\n be a good little actress, I remember.\n Can you do any scenes that\n she does?\"\nThe silence was getting to be\n embarrassing. And Carol said he\n didn't amount to anything, he\n never did anything useful. Why,\n if thanks to his being here this\n afternoon, those kids lost the\n ambition to go on the stage, the\n whole human race would have\n cause to be grateful to him. To\n him, and to Miss Burton. She'd\n kill ambition in anybody.\n\n\n Miss Burton had an idea. \"I\n know what to do, children. If\n you can act animals—Mr. George\n has shown you what the hunter\n does; you show him what the\n lions do. Yes, Carolyn and Doris,\n you're going to be lions. You are\n waiting in your lairs, ready to\n pounce on the unwary hunter.\n Crouch now, behind that chair.\n Closer and closer he comes—you\n act it out, Mr. George, please,\n that's the way—ever closer, and\n now your muscles tighten for\n the spring, and you open\n your great, wide, red mouths\n in a great, great big roar—\"\n\n\n A deep and tremendous roar,\n as of thunder, crashed through\n the auditorium. A roar—and\n then, from the audience, an outburst\n of terrified screaming such\n as he had never heard. The\n bristles rose at the back of his\n neck, and his heart froze.\n\n\n Facing him across the platform\n were two lions, tensed as\n if to leap. Where they had come\n from he didn't know, but there\n they were, eyes glaring, manes\n ruffled, more terrifying than any\n he had seen in Africa. There\n they were, with the threat of\n death and destruction in their\n fierce eyes, and here he was,\n terror and helplessness on his\n handsome, manly, and bloodless\n face, heart unfrozen now and\n pounding fiercely, knees melting,\n hands—\n\n\n Hands clutching an elephant\n gun. The thought was like a director's\n command. With calm efficiency,\n with all the precision of\n an actor playing a scene rehearsed\n a thousand times, the\n gun leaped to his shoulder, and\n now its own roar thundered out\n a challenge to the roaring of the\n wild beasts, shouted at them in\n its own accents of barking\n thunder.\n\n\n The shrill screaming continued\n long after the echoes of the gun's\n speech had died away. Across\n the platform from him were two\n great bodies, the bodies of lions,\n and yet curiously unlike the\n beasts in some ways, now that\n they were dead and dissolving as\n if corroded by some invisible\n acid.\n\n\n Carol's hand was on his arm,\n Carol's thin and breathless voice\n shook as she said, \"A drink—all\n the drinks you want.\"\n\n\n \"One will do. And you.\"\n\n\n \"And me. I guess you're kind\n of—kind of useful after all.\"\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis e-text was produced from\n Space Science Fiction\n February 1953.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright\n on this publication was renewed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was the class of girls at the zoo?", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_1", "options": ["To study the lions", "To put on a class play", "To see the polar bears, grizzlies, and penguins", "To meet Curt George"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where did the two extra girls in Miss Burton's group come from?", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_2", "options": ["They were aliens who could shapeshift", "They were lost from another class", "They were from the boys class wearing disguises", "They were at the zoo with their families"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the real reason for Curt George's shakiness?", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_3", "options": ["PTSD from his time in Africa", "Alcohol withdrawals", "Old Age", "Jungle Fever"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Carol refuse to be with Curt George?", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_4", "options": ["He doesn't have any money", "She will not risk their professional relationship", "She wants him to be sober", "He has too many other girlfriends "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is implied by the whispered conversation between Manto and Palit?", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_5", "options": ["They are aliens who are hiding from their own people", "They are planning on abducting one of the students", "They are aliens who are looking to colonize the planet", "They are planning on harming Curt George"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do the shapeshifters almost get caught by Miss Burton?", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_6", "options": ["By mimicking her face", "Speaking in an alien language", "Almost admitting to being 200 years old", "All three other options are correct"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was likely Miss Burton's real motivation for \"entertaining\" Curt George? ", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_7", "options": ["To make Mr. George unhappy with the high screams", "To thank him for coming", "To show him her own acting skills", "To oust the shapeshifters hiding as girls"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Mr. George upset by the repayment from the children?", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_8", "options": ["It took the spotlight off of him", "He had another show to do and was running late", "The performance was very bad", "It was preventing him from getting his drink"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Curt George consider himself to be an excellent actor?", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_9", "options": ["His previous films were critically acclaimed", "The story about his shakes being from Jungle Fever", "He was able to hold a smile for the crowd of children", "He pretended to be afraid of the fake lions"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the lions Mr. George shot dissolve \"as if corroded by some invisible acid?\"", "question_unique_id": "22524_N885O1MX_10", "options": ["They were alien shapeshifters, not actual lions", "They were props during the shooting of one of Mr. George's movies", "It was a part of the stage show that Mr. George was putting on ", "Mr. George used a gun with special bullets in it"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/2/22524//22524-h//22524-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22579", "set_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Bread Overhead", "year": 1951, "author": "Leiber, Fritz", "topic": "Short stories; PS; Business -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "Bread\n\n Overhead\nBy FRITZ LEIBER\nThe Staff of Life suddenly and\n\n disconcertingly sprouted wings\n\n —and mankind had to eat crow!\nIllustrated by WOOD\nAS a blisteringly hot but\n guaranteed weather-controlled\n future summer day\n dawned on the Mississippi Valley,\n the walking mills of Puffy Products\n (\"Spike to Loaf in One\n Operation!\") began to tread delicately\n on their centipede legs\n across the wheat fields of Kansas.\n\n\n The walking mills resembled fat\n metal serpents, rather larger than\n those Chinese paper dragons animated\n by files of men in procession.\n Sensory robot devices in\n their noses informed them that\n the waiting wheat had reached ripe\n perfection.\n\n\n As they advanced, their heads\n swung lazily from side to side, very\n much like snakes, gobbling the yellow\n grain. In their throats, it was\n threshed, the chaff bundled and\n burped aside for pickup by the\n crawl trucks of a chemical corporation,\n the kernels quick-dried\n and blown along into the mighty\n chests of the machines. There the\n tireless mills ground the kernels\n to flour, which was instantly sifted,\n the bran being packaged and\n dropped like the chaff for pickup.\n A cluster of tanks which gave\n the metal serpents a decidedly\n humpbacked appearance added\n water, shortening, salt and other\n ingredients, some named and some\n not. The dough was at the same\n time infused with gas from a tank\n conspicuously labeled \"Carbon\n Dioxide\" (\"No Yeast Creatures\n in Your Bread!\").\n\n\n Thus instantly risen, the dough\n was clipped into loaves and shot\n into radionic ovens forming the\n midsections of the metal serpents.\n There the bread was baked in a\n matter of seconds, a fierce heat-front\n browning the crusts, and the\n piping-hot loaves sealed in transparent\n plastic bearing the proud\n Puffyloaf emblem (two cherubs\n circling a floating loaf) and ejected\n onto the delivery platform at each\n serpent's rear end, where a cluster\n of pickup machines, like hungry\n piglets, snatched at the loaves\n with hygienic claws.\n\n\n A few loaves would be hurried\n off for the day's consumption,\n the majority stored for winter in\n strategically located mammoth\n deep freezes.\n\n\n But now, behold a wonder! As\n loaves began to appear on the\n delivery platform of the first walking\n mill to get into action, they\n did not linger on the conveyor\n belt, but rose gently into the air\n and slowly traveled off down-wind\n across the hot rippling fields.\nTHE robot claws of the pickup\n machines clutched in vain, and,\n not noticing the difference, proceeded\n carefully to stack emptiness,\n tier by tier. One errant loaf,\n rising more sluggishly than its fellows,\n was snagged by a thrusting\n claw. The machine paused, clumsily\n wiped off the injured loaf, set\n it aside—where it bobbed on one\n corner, unable to take off again—and\n went back to the work of\n storing nothingness.\n\n\n A flock of crows rose from the\n trees of a nearby shelterbelt as the\n flight of loaves approached. The\n crows swooped to investigate and\n then suddenly scattered, screeching\n in panic.\n\n\n The helicopter of a hangoverish\n Sunday traveler bound for Wichita\n shied very similarly from the\n brown fliers and did not return for\n a second look.\n\n\n A black-haired housewife spied\n them over her back fence, crossed\n herself and grabbed her walkie-talkie\n from the laundry basket.\n Seconds later, the yawning correspondent\n of a regional newspaper\n was jotting down the lead of a humorous\n news story which, recalling\n the old flying-saucer scares, stated\n that now apparently bread was to\n be included in the mad aerial tea\n party.\n\n\n The congregation of an open-walled\n country church, standing\n up to recite the most familiar of\n Christian prayers, had just reached\n the petition for daily sustenance,\n when a sub-flight of the loaves,\n either forced down by a vagrant\n wind or lacking the natural buoyancy\n of the rest, came coasting silently\n as the sunbeams between the\n graceful pillars at the altar end of\n the building.\n\n\n Meanwhile, the main flight, now\n augmented by other bread flocks\n from scores and hundreds of walking\n mills that had started work a\n little later, mounted slowly and\n majestically into the cirrus-flecked\n upper air, where a steady\n wind was blowing strongly toward\n the east.\n\n\n About one thousand miles farther\n on in that direction, where a cluster\n of stratosphere-tickling towers\n marked the location of the metropolis\n of NewNew York, a tender\n scene was being enacted in the\n pressurized penthouse managerial\n suite of Puffy Products. Megera\n Winterly, Secretary in Chief to the\n Managerial Board and referred to\n by her underlings as the Blonde\n Icicle, was dealing with the advances\n of Roger (\"Racehorse\")\n Snedden, Assistant Secretary to the\n Board and often indistinguishable\n from any passing office boy.\n\n\n \"Why don't you jump out the\n window, Roger, remembering to\n shut the airlock after you?\" the\n Golden Glacier said in tones not\n unkind. \"When are your high-strung,\n thoroughbred nerves going\n to accept the fact that I would\n never consider marriage with a\n business inferior? You have about\n as much chance as a starving\n Ukrainian kulak now that Moscow's\n clapped on the interdict.\"\nROGER'S voice was calm, although\n his eyes were feverishly\n bright, as he replied, \"A lot\n of things are going to be different\n around here, Meg, as soon as the\n Board is forced to admit that only\n my quick thinking made it possible\n to bring the name of Puffyloaf in\n front of the whole world.\"\n\n\n \"Puffyloaf could do with a little\n of that,\" the business girl observed\n judiciously. \"The way sales have\n been plummeting, it won't be long\n before the Government deeds our\n desks to the managers of Fairy\n Bread and asks us to take the Big\n Jump. But just where does your\n quick thinking come into this, Mr.\n Snedden? You can't be referring to\n the helium—that was Rose Thinker's\n brainwave.\"\n\n\n She studied him suspiciously.\n \"You've birthed another promotional\n bumble, Roger. I can see it\n in your eyes. I only hope it's not\n as big a one as when you put the\n Martian ambassador on 3D and he\n thanked you profusely for the gross\n of Puffyloaves, assuring you that\n he'd never slept on a softer mattress\n in all his life on two planets.\"\n\n\n \"Listen to me, Meg. Today—yes,\n today!—you're going to see\n the Board eating out of my hand.\"\n\n\n \"Hah! I guarantee you won't\n have any fingers left. You're bold\n enough now, but when Mr. Gryce\n and those two big machines come\n through that door—\"\n\n\n \"Now wait a minute, Meg—\"\n\n\n \"Hush! They're coming now!\"\n\n\n Roger leaped three feet in the\n air, but managed to land without a\n sound and edged toward his stool.\n Through the dilating iris of the\n door strode Phineas T. Gryce,\n flanked by Rose Thinker and Tin\n Philosopher.\n\n\n The man approached the conference\n table in the center of the room\n with measured pace and gravely\n expressionless face. The rose-tinted\n machine on his left did a couple\n of impulsive pirouettes on the way\n and twittered a greeting to Meg\n and Roger. The other machine quietly\n took the third of the high seats\n and lifted a claw at Meg, who now\n occupied a stool twice the height of\n Roger's.\n\n\n \"Miss Winterly, please—our\n theme.\"\n\n\n The Blonde Icicle's face thawed\n into a little-girl smile as she chanted\n bubblingly:\n\n\"\nMade up of tiny wheaten motes\nAnd reinforced with sturdy oats,\nIt rises through the air and floats—\nThe bread on which all Terra dotes!\n\"\n\"THANK YOU, Miss Winterly,\"\n said Tin Philosopher.\n \"Though a purely figurative statement,\n that bit about rising through\n the air always gets me—here.\" He\n rapped his midsection, which gave\n off a high musical\nclang\n.\n\n\n \"Ladies—\" he inclined his photocells\n toward Rose Thinker and Meg—\"and\n gentlemen. This is a historic\n occasion in Old Puffy's long history,\n the inauguration of the helium-filled\n loaf ('So Light It Almost Floats\n Away!') in which that inert and\n heaven-aspiring gas replaces old-fashioned\n carbon dioxide. Later,\n there will be kudos for Rose\n Thinker, whose bright relays genius-sparked\n the idea, and also for Roger\n Snedden, who took care of the\n details.\n\n\n \"By the by, Racehorse, that was\n a brilliant piece of work getting the\n helium out of the government—they've\n been pretty stuffy lately\n about their monopoly. But first I\n want to throw wide the casement in\n your minds that opens on the Long\n View of Things.\"\n\n\n Rose Thinker spun twice on her\n chair and opened her photocells\n wide. Tin Philosopher coughed to\n limber up the diaphragm of his\n speaker and continued:\n\n\n \"Ever since the first cave wife\n boasted to her next-den neighbor\n about the superior paleness and fluffiness\n of her tortillas, mankind has\n sought lighter, whiter bread. Indeed,\n thinkers wiser than myself have\n equated the whole upward course of\n culture with this poignant quest.\n Yeast was a wonderful discovery—for\n its primitive day. Sifting the\n bran and wheat germ from the flour\n was an even more important advance.\n Early bleaching and preserving\n chemicals played their humble\n parts.\n\n\n \"For a while, barbarous faddists—blind\n to the deeply spiritual nature\n of bread, which is recognized\n by all great religions—held back\n our march toward perfection with\n their hair-splitting insistence on the\n vitamin content of the wheat germ,\n but their case collapsed when tasteless\n colorless substitutes were\n triumphantly synthesized and introduced\n into the loaf, which for flawless\n purity, unequaled airiness and\n sheer intangible goodness was rapidly\n becoming mankind's supreme\n gustatory experience.\"\n\n\n \"I wonder what the stuff tastes\n like,\" Rose Thinker said out of a\n clear sky.\n\n\n \"I wonder what taste tastes like,\"\n Tin Philosopher echoed dreamily.\n Recovering himself, he continued:\n\n\n \"Then, early in the twenty-first\n century, came the epochal researches\n of Everett Whitehead,\n Puffyloaf chemist, culminating in\n his paper 'The Structural Bubble\n in Cereal Masses' and making possible\n the baking of airtight bread\n twenty times stronger (for its\n weight) than steel and of a\n lightness that would have been\n incredible even to the advanced\n chemist-bakers of the twentieth\n century—a lightness so great that,\n besides forming the backbone of\n our own promotion, it has forever\n since been capitalized on by our\n conscienceless competitors of Fairy\n Bread with their enduring slogan:\n 'It Makes Ghost Toast'.\"\n\n\n \"That's a beaut, all right, that\n ecto-dough blurb,\" Rose Thinker\n admitted, bugging her photocells\n sadly. \"Wait a sec. How about?—\n\n\"\nThere'll be bread\nOverhead\nWhen you're dead—\nIt is said.\n\"\nPHINEAS T. GRYCE wrinkled\n his nostrils at the pink machine\n as if he smelled her insulation\n smoldering. He said mildly, \"A\n somewhat unhappy jingle, Rose,\n referring as it does to the end of\n the customer as consumer. Moreover,\n we shouldn't overplay the\n figurative 'rises through the air'\n angle. What inspired you?\"\n\n\n She shrugged. \"I don't know—oh,\n yes, I do. I was remembering\n one of the workers' songs we machines\n used to chant during the Big\n Strike—\n\n\"\nWork and pray,\nLive on hay.\nYou'll get pie\nIn the sky\nWhen you die—\nIt's a lie!\n\"I don't know why we chanted\n it,\" she added. \"We didn't want pie—or\n hay, for that matter. And\n machines don't pray, except Tibetan\n prayer wheels.\"\n\n\n Phineas T. Gryce shook his head.\n \"Labor relations are another topic\n we should stay far away from.\n However, dear Rose, I'm glad you\n keep trying to outjingle those dirty\n crooks at Fairy Bread.\" He scowled,\n turning back his attention to Tin\n Philosopher. \"I get whopping mad,\n Old Machine, whenever I hear that\n other slogan of theirs, the discriminatory\n one—'Untouched by Robot\n Claws.' Just because they employ a\n few filthy androids in their factories!\"\n\n\n Tin Philosopher lifted one of his\n own sets of bright talons. \"Thanks,\n P.T. But to continue my historical\n resume, the next great advance in\n the baking art was the substitution\n of purified carbon dioxide, recovered\n from coal smoke, for the gas\n generated by yeast organisms indwelling\n in the dough and later\n killed by the heat of baking, their\n corpses remaining\nin situ\n. But even\n purified carbon dioxide is itself a\n rather repugnant gas, a product of\n metabolism whether fast or slow,\n and forever associated with those\n life processes which are obnoxious\n to the fastidious.\"\n\n\n Here the machine shuddered\n with delicate clinkings. \"Therefore,\n we of Puffyloaf are taking today\n what may be the ultimate step\n toward purity: we are aerating our\n loaves with the noble gas helium,\n an element which remains virginal\n in the face of all chemical temptations\n and whose slim molecules are\n eleven times lighter than obese\n carbon dioxide—yes, noble uncontaminable\n helium, which, if it be a\n kind of ash, is yet the ash only of\n radioactive burning, accomplished\n or initiated entirely on the Sun, a\n safe 93 million miles from this\n planet. Let's have a cheer for the\n helium loaf!\"\nWITHOUT changing expression,\n Phineas T. Gryce rapped\n the table thrice in solemn applause,\n while the others bowed their heads.\n\n\n \"Thanks, T.P.,\" P.T. then said.\n \"And now for the Moment of\n Truth. Miss Winterly, how is the\n helium loaf selling?\"\n\n\n The business girl clapped on a\n pair of earphones and whispered\n into a lapel mike. Her gaze grew\n abstracted as she mentally translated\n flurries of brief squawks into\n coherent messages. Suddenly a single\n vertical furrow creased her\n matchlessly smooth brow.\n\n\n \"It isn't, Mr. Gryce!\" she gasped\n in horror. \"Fairy Bread is outselling\n Puffyloaves by an infinity factor.\n So far this morning,\nthere has\n not been one single delivery of\n Puffyloaves to any sales spot\n! Complaints\n about non-delivery are pouring\n in from both walking stores and\n sessile shops.\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Snedden!\" Gryce barked.\n \"What bug in the new helium\n process might account for this\n delay?\"\n\n\n Roger was on his feet, looking\n bewildered. \"I can't imagine, sir,\n unless—just possibly—there's\n been some unforeseeable difficulty\n involving the new metal-foil wrappers.\"\n\n\n \"Metal-foil wrappers? Were\nyou\nresponsible for those?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. Last-minute recalculations\n showed that the extra lightness\n of the new loaf might be great\n enough to cause drift during stackage.\n Drafts in stores might topple\n sales pyramids. Metal-foil wrappers,\n by their added weight, took\n care of the difficulty.\"\n\n\n \"And you ordered them without\n consulting the Board?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. There was hardly time\n and—\"\n\n\n \"Why, you fool! I noticed that\n order for metal-foil wrappers, assumed\n it was some sub-secretary's\n mistake, and canceled it last night!\"\n\n\n Roger Snedden turned pale.\n \"You canceled it?\" he quavered.\n \"And told them to go back to the\n lighter plastic wrappers?\"\n\n\n \"Of course! Just what is behind\n all this, Mr. Snedden?\nWhat\nrecalculations\n were you trusting, when\n our physicists had demonstrated\n months ago that the helium loaf\n was safely stackable in light airs\n and gentle breezes—winds up to\n Beaufort's scale 3.\nWhy\nshould a\n change from heavier to lighter\n wrappers result in complete non-delivery?\"\nROGER Snedden's paleness became\n tinged with an interesting\n green. He cleared his throat\n and made strange gulping noises.\n Tin Philosopher's photocells focused\n on him calmly, Rose\n Thinker's with unfeigned excitement.\n P.T. Gryce's frown grew\n blacker by the moment, while\n Megera Winterly's Venus-mask\n showed an odd dawning of dismay\n and awe. She was getting new\n squawks in her earphones.\n\n\n \"Er ... ah ... er....\" Roger\n said in winning tones. \"Well, you\n see, the fact is that I....\"\n\n\n \"Hold it,\" Meg interrupted\n crisply. \"Triple-urgent from Public\n Relations, Safety Division. Tulsa-Topeka\n aero-express makes emergency\n landing after being buffeted\n in encounter with vast flight of\n objects first described as brown\n birds, although no failures reported\n in airway's electronic anti-bird\n fences. After grounding safely near\n Emporia—no fatalities—pilot's\n windshield found thinly plastered\n with soft white-and-brown material.\n Emblems on plastic wrappers embedded\n in material identify it incontrovertibly\n as an undetermined\n number of Puffyloaves cruising at\n three thousand feet!\"\n\n\n Eyes and photocells turned inquisitorially\n upon Roger Snedden.\n He went from green to Puffyloaf\n white and blurted: \"All right, I did\n it, but it was the only way out!\n Yesterday morning, due to the\n Ukrainian crisis, the government\n stopped sales and deliveries of all\n strategic stockpiled materials, including\n helium gas. Puffy's new\n program of advertising and promotion,\n based on the lighter loaf, was\n already rolling. There was only one\n thing to do, there being only one\n other gas comparable in lightness\n to helium. I diverted the necessary\n quantity of hydrogen gas from the\n Hydrogenated Oils Section of our\n Magna-Margarine Division and\n substituted it for the helium.\"\n\n\n \"You substituted ... hydrogen ... for\n the ... helium?\" Phineas\n T. Gryce faltered in low mechanical\n tones, taking four steps backward.\n\n\n \"Hydrogen is twice as light as\n helium,\" Tin Philosopher remarked\n judiciously.\n\n\n \"And many times cheaper—did\n you know that?\" Roger countered\n feebly. \"Yes, I substituted hydrogen.\n The metal-foil wrapping would\n have added just enough weight to\n counteract the greater buoyancy of\n the hydrogen loaf. But—\"\n\n\n \"So, when this morning's loaves\n began to arrive on the delivery\n platforms of the walking mills....\"\n Tin Philosopher left the remark\n unfinished.\n\n\n \"Exactly,\" Roger agreed dismally.\n\n\n \"Let me ask you, Mr. Snedden,\"\n Gryce interjected, still in low tones,\n \"if you expected people to jump to\n the kitchen ceiling for their Puffybread\n after taking off the metal\n wrapper, or reach for the sky if\n they happened to unwrap the stuff\n outdoors?\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Gryce,\" Roger said reproachfully,\n \"you have often assured\n me that what people do with\n Puffybread after they buy it is no\n concern of ours.\"\n\n\n \"I seem to recall,\" Rose Thinker\n chirped somewhat unkindly, \"that\n dictum was created to answer inquiries\n after Roger put the famous\n sculptures-in-miniature artist on 3D\n and he testified that he always\n molded his first attempts from\n Puffybread, one jumbo loaf squeezing\n down to approximately the size\n of a peanut.\"\nHER photocells dimmed and\n brightened. \"Oh, boy—hydrogen!\n The loaf's unwrapped. After\n a while, in spite of the crust-seal, a\n little oxygen diffuses in. An explosive\n mixture. Housewife in curlers\n and kimono pops a couple slices in\n the toaster. Boom!\"\n\n\n The three human beings in the\n room winced.\n\n\n Tin Philosopher kicked her under\n the table, while observing, \"So\n you see, Roger, that the non-delivery\n of the hydrogen loaf carries\n some consolations. And I must confess\n that one aspect of the affair\n gives me great satisfaction, not as a\n Board Member but as a private\n machine. You have at last made a\n reality of the 'rises through the air'\n part of Puffybread's theme. They\n can't ever take that away from you.\n By now, half the inhabitants of the\n Great Plains must have observed\n our flying loaves rising high.\"\n\n\n Phineas T. Gryce shot a frightened\n look at the west windows and\n found his full voice.\n\n\n \"Stop the mills!\" he roared at\n Meg Winterly, who nodded and\n whispered urgently into her mike.\n\n\n \"A sensible suggestion,\" Tin\n Philosopher said. \"But it comes a\n trifle late in the day. If the mills\n are still walking and grinding, approximately\n seven billion Puffyloaves\n are at this moment cruising\n eastward over Middle America.\n Remember that a six-month supply\n for deep-freeze is involved and that\n the current consumption of bread,\n due to its matchless airiness, is\n eight and one-half loaves per person\n per day.\"\n\n\n Phineas T. Gryce carefully inserted\n both hands into his scanty\n hair, feeling for a good grip. He\n leaned menacingly toward Roger\n who, chin resting on the table, regarded\n him apathetically.\n\n\n \"Hold it!\" Meg called sharply.\n \"Flock of multiple-urgents coming\n in. News Liaison: information bureaus\n swamped with flying-bread\n inquiries. Aero-expresslines: Clear\n our airways or face law suit. U. S.\n Army: Why do loaves flame when\n hit by incendiary bullets? U. S.\n Customs: If bread intended for\n export, get export license or face\n prosecution. Russian Consulate in\n Chicago: Advise on destination of\n bread-lift. And some Kansas church\n is accusing us of a hoax inciting to\n blasphemy, of faking miracles—I\n don't know\nwhy\n.\"\n\n\n The business girl tore off her\n headphones. \"Roger Snedden,\" she\n cried with a hysteria that would\n have dumfounded her underlings,\n \"you've brought the name of Puffyloaf\n in front of the whole world, all\n right! Now do something about the\n situation!\"\n\n\n Roger nodded obediently. But\n his pallor increased a shade, the\n pupils of his eyes disappeared under\n the upper lids, and his head\n burrowed beneath his forearms.\n\n\n \"Oh, boy,\" Rose Thinker called\n gayly to Tin Philosopher, \"this\n looks like the start of a real crisis\n session! Did you remember to\n bring spare batteries?\"\nMEANWHILE, the monstrous\n flight of Puffyloaves, filling\n midwestern skies as no small fliers\n had since the days of the passenger\n pigeon, soared steadily onward.\n\n\n Private fliers approached the\n brown and glistening bread-front in\n curiosity and dipped back in awe.\n Aero-expresslines organized sightseeing\n flights along the flanks.\n Planes of the government forestry\n and agricultural services and 'copters\n bearing the Puffyloaf emblem\n hovered on the fringes, watching\n developments and waiting for orders.\n A squadron of supersonic\n fighters hung menacingly above.\n\n\n The behavior of birds varied\n considerably. Most fled or gave the\n loaves a wide berth, but some\n bolder species, discovering the minimal\n nutritive nature of the translucent\n brown objects, attacked\n them furiously with beaks and\n claws. Hydrogen diffusing slowly\n through the crusts had now distended\n most of the sealed plastic\n wrappers into little balloons, which\n ruptured, when pierced, with disconcerting\npops\n.\n\n\n Below, neck-craning citizens\n crowded streets and back yards,\n cranks and cultists had a field day,\n while local and national governments\n raged indiscriminately at\n Puffyloaf and at each other.\n\n\n Rumors that a fusion weapon\n would be exploded in the midst of\n the flying bread drew angry protests\n from conservationists and a flood\n of telefax pamphlets titled \"H-Loaf\n or H-bomb?\"\n\n\n Stockholm sent a mystifying\n note of praise to the United Nations\n Food Organization.\n\n\n Delhi issued nervous denials of a\n millet blight that no one had heard\n of until that moment and reaffirmed\n India's ability to feed her\n population with no outside help\n except the usual.\n\n\n Radio Moscow asserted that the\n Kremlin would brook no interference\n in its treatment of the Ukrainians,\n jokingly referred to the flying\n bread as a farce perpetrated by\n mad internationalists inhabiting\n Cloud Cuckoo Land, added contradictory\n references to airborne\n bread booby-trapped by Capitalist\n gangsters, and then fell moodily\n silent on the whole topic.\n\n\n Radio Venus reported to its\n winged audience that Earth's\n inhabitants were establishing food\n depots in the upper air, preparatory\n to taking up permanent aerial\n residence \"such as we have always\n enjoyed on Venus.\"\nNEWNEW YORK made feverish\n preparations for the passage\n of the flying bread. Tickets\n for sightseeing space in skyscrapers\n were sold at high prices; cold meats\n and potted spreads were hawked to\n viewers with the assurance that\n they would be able to snag the\n bread out of the air and enjoy a\n historic sandwich.\n\n\n Phineas T. Gryce, escaping from\n his own managerial suite, raged\n about the city, demanding general\n cooperation in the stretching of\n great nets between the skyscrapers\n to trap the errant loaves. He was\n captured by Tin Philosopher, escaped\n again, and was found posted\n with oxygen mask and submachine gun\n on the topmost spire of Puffyloaf\n Tower, apparently determined\n to shoot down the loaves as they\n appeared and before they involved\n his company in more trouble with\n Customs and the State Department.\n\n\n Recaptured by Tin Philosopher,\n who suffered only minor bullet\n holes, he was given a series of mild\n electroshocks and returned to the\n conference table, calm and clear-headed\n as ever.\n\n\n But the bread flight, swinging\n away from a hurricane moving up\n the Atlantic coast, crossed a\n clouded-in Boston by night and\n disappeared into a high Atlantic\n overcast, also thereby evading a\n local storm generated by the\n Weather Department in a last-minute\n effort to bring down or at\n least disperse the H-loaves.\n\n\n Warnings and counterwarnings\n by Communist and Capitalist governments\n seriously interfered with\n military trailing of the flight during\n this period and it was actually\n lost in touch with for several days.\n\n\n At scattered points, seagulls were\n observed fighting over individual\n loaves floating down from the gray\n roof—that was all.\n\n\n A mood of spirituality strongly\n tinged with humor seized the people\n of the world. Ministers sermonized\n about the bread, variously\n interpreting it as a call to charity,\n a warning against gluttony, a parable\n of the evanescence of all\n earthly things, and a divine joke.\n Husbands and wives, facing each\n other across their walls of breakfast\n toast, burst into laughter. The\n mere sight of a loaf of bread anywhere\n was enough to evoke guffaws.\n An obscure sect, having as\n part of its creed the injunction\n \"Don't take yourself so damn seriously,\"\n won new adherents.\n\n\n The bread flight, rising above an\n Atlantic storm widely reported to\n have destroyed it, passed unobserved\n across a foggy England and\n rose out of the overcast only over\n Mittel-europa. The loaves had at\n last reached their maximum altitude.\n\n\n The Sun's rays beat through the\n rarified air on the distended plastic\n wrappers, increasing still further\n the pressure of the confined hydrogen.\n They burst by the millions\n and tens of millions. A high-flying\n Bulgarian evangelist, who had happened\n to mistake the up-lever for\n the east-lever in the cockpit of his\n flier and who was the sole witness\n of the event, afterward described it\n as \"the foaming of a sea of diamonds,\n the crackle of God's\n knuckles.\"\nBY THE millions and tens of\n millions, the loaves coasted\n down into the starving Ukraine.\n Shaken by a week of humor that\n threatened to invade even its own\n grim precincts, the Kremlin made\n a sudden about-face. A new policy\n was instituted of communal ownership\n of the produce of communal\n farms, and teams of hunger-fighters\n and caravans of trucks loaded with\n pumpernickel were dispatched into\n the Ukraine.\n\n\n World distribution was given to\n a series of photographs showing\n peasants queueing up to trade scavenged\n Puffyloaves for traditional\n black bread, recently aerated itself\n but still extra solid by comparison,\n the rate of exchange demanded by\n the Moscow teams being twenty\n Puffyloaves to one of pumpernickel.\n\n\n Another series of photographs,\n picturing chubby workers' children\n being blown to bits by booby-trapped\n bread, was quietly destroyed.\n\n\n Congratulatory notes were exchanged\n by various national governments\n and world organizations,\n including the Brotherhood of Free\n Business Machines. The great\n bread flight was over, though for\n several weeks afterward scattered\n falls of loaves occurred, giving rise\n to a new folklore of manna among\n lonely Arabian tribesmen, and in\n one well-authenticated instance in\n Tibet, sustaining life in a party of\n mountaineers cut off by a snow\n slide.\n\n\n Back in NewNew York, the\n managerial board of Puffy Products\n slumped in utter collapse\n around the conference table, the\n long crisis session at last ended.\n Empty coffee cartons were scattered\n around the chairs of the three\n humans, dead batteries around\n those of the two machines. For a\n while, there was no movement\n whatsoever. Then Roger Snedden\n reached out wearily for the earphones\n where Megera Winterly\n had hurled them down, adjusted\n them to his head, pushed a button\n and listened apathetically.\n\n\n After a bit, his gaze brightened.\n He pushed more buttons and listened\n more eagerly. Soon he was\n sitting tensely upright on his stool,\n eyes bright and lower face all\n a-smile, muttering terse comments\n and questions into the lapel mike\n torn from Meg's fair neck.\n\n\n The others, reviving, watched\n him, at first dully, then with quickening\n interest, especially when he\n jerked off the earphones with a\n happy shout and sprang to his feet.\n\"LISTEN to this!\" he cried in\n a ringing voice. \"As a result\n of the worldwide publicity, Puffyloaves\n are outselling Fairy Bread\n three to one—and that's just the\n old carbon-dioxide stock from our\n freezers! It's almost exhausted, but\n the government, now that the\n Ukrainian crisis is over, has taken\n the ban off helium and will also\n sell us stockpiled wheat if we need\n it. We can have our walking mills\n burrowing into the wheat caves in\n a matter of hours!\n\n\n \"But that isn't all! The far\n greater demand everywhere is for\n Puffyloaves that will actually float.\n Public Relations, Child Liaison\n Division, reports that the kiddies\n are making their mothers' lives\n miserable about it. If only we can\n figure out some way to make\n hydrogen non-explosive or the\n helium loaf float just a little—\"\n\n\n \"I'm sure we can take care of\n that quite handily,\" Tin Philosopher\n interrupted briskly. \"Puffyloaf\n has kept it a corporation secret—even\n you've never been told\n about it—but just before he went\n crazy, Everett Whitehead discovered\n a way to make bread using\n only half as much flour as we do in\n the present loaf. Using this secret\n technique, which we've been saving\n for just such an emergency, it will\n be possible to bake a helium loaf as\n buoyant in every respect as the\n hydrogen loaf.\"\n\n\n \"Good!\" Roger cried. \"We'll\n tether 'em on strings and sell 'em\n like balloons. No mother-child\n shopping team will leave the store\n without a cluster. Buying bread\n balloons will be the big event of\n the day for kiddies. It'll make the\n carry-home shopping load lighter\n too! I'll issue orders at once—\"\nHE broke off, looking at Phineas\n T. Gryce, said with quiet\n assurance, \"Excuse me, sir, if I\n seem to be taking too much upon\n myself.\"\n\n\n \"Not at all, son; go straight\n ahead,\" the great manager said approvingly.\n \"You're\"—he laughed\n in anticipation of getting off a\n memorable remark—\"rising to the\n challenging situation like a genuine\n Puffyloaf.\"\n\n\n Megera Winterly looked from\n the older man to the younger.\n Then in a single leap she was upon\n Roger, her arms wrapped tightly\n around him.\n\n\n \"My sweet little ever-victorious,\n self-propelled monkey wrench!\" she\n crooned in his ear. Roger looked\n fatuously over her soft shoulder at\n Tin Philosopher who, as if moved\n by some similar feeling, reached\n over and touched claws with Rose\n Thinker.\n\n\n This, however, was what he telegraphed\n silently to his fellow machine\n across the circuit so completed:\n\n\n \"Good-o, Rosie! That makes another\n victory for robot-engineered\n world unity, though you almost\n gave us away at the start with that\n 'bread overhead' jingle. We've\n struck another blow against the\n next world war, in which—as we\n know only too well!—we machines\n would suffer the most. Now if we\n can only arrange, say, a fur-famine\n in Alaska and a migration of long-haired\n Siberian lemmings across\n Behring Straits ... we'd have to\n swing the Japanese Current up\n there so it'd be warm enough for\n the little fellows.... Anyhow,\n Rosie, with a spot of help from the\n Brotherhood, those humans will\n paint themselves into the peace\n corner yet.\"\n\n\n Meanwhile, he and Rose Thinker\n quietly watched the Blonde Icicle\n melt.\n—FRITZ LEIBER\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nGalaxy\nFebruary 1958. Extensive\n research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on\n this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors\n have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What production process caused the Puffyloaves to float away?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_1", "options": ["Being made with Helium", "Being made with yeast", "Being made with Carbon Dioxide", "Being made with hydrogen"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who is the highest ranking employee at Puffyloaves mentioned in this story?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_2", "options": ["Rose Thinker", "Roger Snedden", "Phineas T. Gryce", "Meg Winterly"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What changes Meg's mind about a relationship with Roger?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_3", "options": ["His jingle writing ability", "His handling of the crisis at hand", "His thoroughbred nerves", "His deal with the Martian ambassador"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What qualities does the Tin Philosopher think are most valued in bread?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_4", "options": ["Lighter and paler", "Stronger and harder", "Heavier and darker", "More nutritious"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Roger mortified at the news about the cancelled metal-foil wrapper order?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_5", "options": ["The consumers would now be able to see the product", "The loaves would go stale much more quickly now", "They now had nothing to wrap the loaves with", "The loaves would now be too light and float away"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the main reason for hydrogen being substituted for helium?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_6", "options": ["It was much cheaper", "The helium made the loaves taste bad", "Helium would make the loaves too light ", "The government halted supply of helium"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why were the Puffyloaves flaming when hit with incendiary rounds?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_7", "options": ["There was too much bran and germ left in the wheat used to make the loaves ", "The helium in the loaves was catching on fire", "Oxygen mixing into the hydrogen and creating a flammable substance", "The clear plastic wrappers were extremely flammable"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What caused the loaves to eventually fall on the Ukraine?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_8", "options": ["A storm generated by the weather service", "A Bulgarian evangelist who did so on accident", "Being shot down by Soviet planes", "The sun bursting the plastic wrappers"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Roger ecstatic when putting on Meg's headphones?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_9", "options": ["He was escaping from the discussion with P.T. Gryce", "He was happy to be sharing with Meg", "He found out he was getting a promotion", "He had solved the crisis that he created"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What made Roger decide to sell Puffyloaves like balloons?", "question_unique_id": "22579_RQ3GB4A1_10", "options": ["Shipping constraints", "Government regulation", "Cheaper packaging materials", "Children's demands of their parents"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/7/22579//22579-h//22579-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22590", "set_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Wind", "year": 1962, "author": "Fontenay, Charles L.", "topic": "Venus (Planet) -- Fiction; Short stories; PS; Space colonies -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "WIND\nBy CHARLES L. FONTENAY\nWhen you have an engine with no fuel, and fuel\n \nwithout an engine, and a life-and-death deadline\n \nto meet, you have a problem indeed. Unless you are\n \na stubborn Dutchman—and Jan Van Artevelde was\n \nthe stubbornest Dutchman on Venus.\nJAN WILLEM van Artevelde\n claimed descent from William\n of Orange. He had no genealogy\n to prove it, but on Venus there\n was no one who could disprove it,\n either.\n\n\n Jan Willem van Artevelde\n smoked a clay pipe, which only a\n Dutchman can do properly, because\n the clay bit grates on less\n stubborn teeth.\n\n\n Jan needed all his Dutch stubbornness,\n and a good deal of pure\n physical strength besides, to maneuver\n the roach-flat groundcar\n across the tumbled terrain of\n Den Hoorn into the teeth of the\n howling gale that swept from the\n west. The huge wheels twisted\n and jolted against the rocks outside,\n and Jan bounced against his\n seat belt, wrestled the steering\n wheel and puffed at his\npijp\n. The\n mild aroma of Heerenbaai-Tabak\n filled the airtight groundcar.\n\n\n There came a new swaying\n that was not the roughness of\n the terrain. Through the thick\n windshield Jan saw all the\n ground about him buckle and\n heave for a second or two before\n it settled to rugged quiescence\n again. This time he was really\n heaved about.\n\n\n Jan mentioned this to the\n groundcar radio.\n\n\n \"That's the third time in half\n an hour,\" he commented. \"The\n place tosses like the IJsselmeer\n on a rough day.\"\n\n\n \"You just don't forget it\nisn't\nthe Zuider Zee,\" retorted Heemskerk\n from the other end. \"You\n sink there and you don't come up\n three times.\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry,\" said Jan. \"I'll\n be back on time, with a broom at\n the masthead.\"\n\n\n \"This I shall want to see,\"\n chuckled Heemskerk; a logical\n reaction, considering the scarcity\n of brooms on Venus.\nTwo hours earlier the two men\n had sat across a small table playing\n chess, with little indication\n there would be anything else to\n occupy their time before blastoff\n of the stubby gravity-boat. It\n would be their last chess game\n for many months, for Jan was a\n member of the Dutch colony at\n Oostpoort in the northern hemisphere\n of Venus, while Heemskerk\n was pilot of the G-boat from\n the Dutch spaceship\nVanderdecken\n,\n scheduled to begin an\n Earthward orbit in a few hours.\n\n\n It was near the dusk of the\n 485-hour Venerian day, and the\n Twilight Gale already had arisen,\n sweeping from the comparatively\n chill Venerian nightside into\n the superheated dayside. Oostpoort,\n established near some outcroppings\n that contained uranium\n ore, was protected from\n both the Dawn Gale and the Twilight\n Gale, for it was in a valley\n in the midst of a small range of\n mountains.\n\n\n Jan had just figured out a combination\n by which he hoped to\n cheat Heemskerk out of one of\n his knights, when Dekker, the\nburgemeester\nof Oostpoort, entered\n the spaceport ready room.\n\n\n \"There's been an emergency\n radio message,\" said Dekker.\n \"They've got a passenger for the\n Earthship over at Rathole.\"\n\n\n \"Rathole?\" repeated Heemskerk.\n \"What's that? I didn't\n know there was another colony\n within two thousand kilometers.\"\n\n\n \"It isn't a colony, in the sense\n Oostpoort is,\" explained Dekker.\n \"The people are the families of a\n bunch of laborers left behind\n when the colony folded several\n years ago. It's about eighty kilometers\n away, right across the\n Hoorn, but they don't have any\n vehicles that can navigate when\n the wind's up.\"\n\n\n Heemskerk pushed his short-billed\n cap back on his close-cropped\n head, leaned back in his chair\n and folded his hands over his\n comfortable stomach.\n\n\n \"Then the passenger will have\n to wait for the next ship,\" he\n pronounced. \"The\nVanderdecken\nhas to blast off in thirty hours to\n catch Earth at the right orbital\n spot, and the G-boat has to blast\n off in ten hours to catch the\nVanderdecken\n.\"\n\n\n \"This passenger can't wait,\"\n said Dekker. \"He needs to be\n evacuated to Earth immediately.\n He's suffering from the Venus\n Shadow.\"\n\n\n Jan whistled softly. He had\n seen the effects of that disease.\n Dekker was right.\n\n\n \"Jan, you're the best driver in\n Oostpoort,\" said Dekker. \"You\n will have to take a groundcar to\n Rathole and bring the fellow\n back.\"\nSo now Jan gripped his clay\n pipe between his teeth and piloted\n the groundcar into the teeth\n of the Twilight Gale.\n\n\n Den Hoorn was a comparatively\n flat desert sweep that ran\n along the western side of the\n Oost Mountains, just over the\n mountain from Oostpoort. It was\n a thin fault area of a planet\n whose crust was peculiarly subject\n to earthquakes, particularly\n at the beginning and end of each\n long day when temperatures of\n the surface rocks changed. On\n the other side of it lay Rathole, a\n little settlement that eked a precarious\n living from the Venerian\n vegetation. Jan never had seen it.\n\n\n He had little difficulty driving\n up and over the mountain, for the\n Dutch settlers had carved a\n rough road through the ravines.\n But even the 2½-meter wheels of\n the groundcar had trouble amid\n the tumbled rocks of Den Hoorn.\n The wind hit the car in full\n strength here and, though the\n body of the groundcar was suspended\n from the axles, there was\n constant danger of its being flipped\n over by a gust if not handled\n just right.\n\n\n The three earthshocks that had\n shaken Den Hoorn since he had\n been driving made his task no\n easier, but he was obviously\n lucky, at that. Often he had to\n detour far from his course to\n skirt long, deep cracks in the\n surface, or steep breaks where\n the crust had been raised or\n dropped several meters by past\n quakes.\n\n\n The groundcar zig-zagged\n slowly westward. The tattered\n violet-and-indigo clouds boiled\n low above it, but the wind was as\n dry as the breath of an oven.\n Despite the heavy cloud cover,\n the afternoon was as bright as\n an Earth-day. The thermometer\n showed the outside temperature\n to have dropped to 40 degrees\n Centigrade in the west wind, and\n it was still going down.\n\n\n Jan reached the edge of a\n crack that made further progress\n seem impossible. A hundred\n meters wide, of unknown depth,\n it stretched out of sight in both\n directions. For the first time he\n entertained serious doubts that\n Den Hoorn could be crossed by\n land.\n\n\n After a moment's hesitation,\n he swung the groundcar northward\n and raced along the edge of\n the chasm as fast as the car\n would negotiate the terrain. He\n looked anxiously at his watch.\n Nearly three hours had passed\n since he left Oostpoort. He had\n seven hours to go and he was\n still at least 16 kilometers from\n Rathole. His pipe was out, but\n he could not take his hands\n from the wheel to refill it.\n\n\n He had driven at least eight\n kilometers before he realized\n that the crack was narrowing.\n At least as far again, the two\n edges came together, but not at\n the same level. A sheer cliff\n three meters high now barred\n his passage. He drove on.\nApparently it was the result\n of an old quake. He found a spot\n where rocks had tumbled down,\n making a steep, rough ramp up\n the break. He drove up it and\n turned back southwestward.\n\n\n He made it just in time. He\n had driven less than three hundred\n meters when a quake more\n severe than any of the others\n struck. Suddenly behind him the\n break reversed itself, so that\n where he had climbed up coming\n westward he would now\n have to climb a cliff of equal\n height returning eastward.\n\n\n The ground heaved and buckled\n like a tempestuous sea.\n Rocks rolled and leaped through\n the air, several large ones striking\n the groundcar with ominous\n force. The car staggered forward\n on its giant wheels like a\n drunken man. The quake was so\n violent that at one time the vehicle\n was hurled several meters\n sideways, and almost overturned.\n And the wind smashed down\n on it unrelentingly.\n\n\n The quake lasted for several\n minutes, during which Jan was\n able to make no progress at all\n and struggled only to keep the\n groundcar upright. Then, in unison,\n both earthquake and wind\n died to absolute quiescence.\n\n\n Jan made use of this calm to\n step down on the accelerator and\n send the groundcar speeding\n forward. The terrain was easier\n here, nearing the western edge\n of Den Hoorn, and he covered\n several kilometers before the\n wind struck again, cutting his\n speed down considerably. He\n judged he must be nearing Rathole.\n\n\n Not long thereafter, he rounded\n an outcropping of rock and it\n lay before him.\n\n\n A wave of nostalgia swept\n over him. Back at Oostpoort, the\n power was nuclear, but this little\n settlement made use of the\n cheapest, most obviously available\n power source. It was dotted\n with more than a dozen windmills.\n\n\n Windmills! Tears came to\n Jan's eyes. For a moment, he\n was carried back to the flat\n lands around 's Gravenhage. For\n a moment he was a tow-headed,\n round-eyed boy again, clumping\n in wooden shoes along the edge\n of the tulip fields.\n\n\n But there were no canals here.\n The flat land, stretching into the\n darkening west, was spotted\n with patches of cactus and\n leather-leaved Venerian plants.\n Amid the windmills, low domes\n protruded from the earth, indicating\n that the dwellings of Rathole\n were, appropriately, partly\n underground.\nHe drove into the place. There\n were no streets, as such, but\n there were avenues between lines\n of heavy chains strung to short\n iron posts, evidently as handholds\n against the wind. The savage\n gale piled dust and sand in\n drifts against the domes, then,\n shifting slightly, swept them\n clean again.\n\n\n There was no one moving\n abroad, but just inside the community\n Jan found half a dozen\n men in a group, clinging to one\n of the chains and waving to him.\n He pulled the groundcar to a\n stop beside them, stuck his pipe\n in a pocket of his plastic venusuit,\n donned his helmet and\n got out.\n\n\n The wind almost took him\n away before one of them grabbed\n him and he was able to\n grasp the chain himself. They\n gathered around him. They were\n swarthy, black-eyed men, with\n curly hair. One of them grasped\n his hand.\n\n\n \"\nBienvenido, señor\n,\" said the\n man.\n\n\n Jan recoiled and dropped the\n man's hand. All the Orangeman\n blood he claimed protested in\n outrage.\n\n\n Spaniards! All these men were\n Spaniards!\nJan recovered himself at once.\n He had been reading too much\n ancient history during his leisure\n hours. The hot monotony of\n Venus was beginning to affect\n his brain. It had been 500 years\n since the Netherlands revolted\n against Spanish rule. A lot of\n water over the dam since then.\n\n\n A look at the men around him,\n the sound of their chatter, convinced\n him that he need not try\n German or Hollandsch here. He\n fell back on the international\n language.\n\n\n \"Do you speak English?\" he\n asked. The man brightened but\n shook his head.\n\n\n \"\nNo hablo inglés\n,\" he said,\n \"\npero el médico lo habla. Venga\n conmigo.\n\"\n\n\n He gestured for Jan to follow\n him and started off, pulling his\n way against the wind along the\n chain. Jan followed, and the\n other men fell in behind in single\n file. A hundred meters farther\n on, they turned, descended\n some steps and entered one of\n the half-buried domes. A gray-haired,\n bearded man was in the\n well-lighted room, apparently\n the living room of a home, with\n a young woman.\n\n\n \"\nÉl médico\n,\" said the man who\n had greeted Jan, gesturing. \"\nÉl\n habla inglés.\n\"\n\n\n He went out, shutting the airlock\n door behind him.\n\n\n \"You must be the man from\n Oostpoort,\" said the bearded\n man, holding out his hand. \"I\n am Doctor Sanchez. We are very\n grateful you have come.\"\n\n\n \"I thought for a while I\n wouldn't make it,\" said Jan ruefully,\n removing his venushelmet.\n\n\n \"This is Mrs. Murillo,\" said\n Sanchez.\n\n\n The woman was a Spanish\n blonde, full-lipped and beautiful,\n with golden hair and dark, liquid\n eyes. She smiled at Jan.\n\n\n \"\nEncantada de conocerlo,\n señor\n,\" she greeted him.\n\n\n \"Is this the patient, Doctor?\"\n asked Jan, astonished. She looked\n in the best of health.\n\n\n \"No, the patient is in the next\n room,\" answered Sanchez.\n\n\n \"Well, as much as I'd like to\n stop for a pipe, we'd better start\n at once,\" said Jan. \"It's a hard\n drive back, and blastoff can't be\n delayed.\"\n\n\n The woman seemed to sense\n his meaning. She turned and\n called: \"\nDiego!\n\"\n\n\n A boy appeared in the door, a\n dark-skinned, sleepy-eyed boy of\n about eight. He yawned. Then,\n catching sight of the big Dutchman,\n he opened his eyes wide\n and smiled.\n\n\n The boy was healthy-looking,\n alert, but the mark of the Venus\n Shadow was on his face. There\n was a faint mottling, a criss-cross\n of dead-white lines.\n\n\n Mrs. Murillo spoke to him rapidly\n in Spanish and he nodded.\n She zipped him into a venusuit\n and fitted a small helmet on his\n head.\n\n\n \"Good luck,\namigo\n,\" said Sanchez,\n shaking Jan's hand again.\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" replied Jan. He donned\n his own helmet. \"I'll need it,\n if the trip over was any indication.\"\nJan and Diego made their way\n back down the chain to the\n groundcar. There was a score of\n men there now, and a few\n women. They let the pair go\n through, and waved farewell as\n Jan swung the groundcar around\n and headed back eastward.\n\n\n It was easier driving with the\n wind behind him, and Jan hit a\n hundred kilometers an hour several\n times before striking the\n rougher ground of Den Hoorn.\n Now, if he could only find a way\n over the bluff raised by that last\n quake....\n\n\n The ground of Den Hoorn was\n still shivering. Jan did not realize\n this until he had to brake the\n groundcar almost to a stop at one\n point, because it was not shaking\n in severe, periodic shocks as it\n had earlier. It quivered constantly,\n like the surface of quicksand.\n\n\n The ground far ahead of him\n had a strange color to it. Jan,\n watching for the cliff he had to\n skirt and scale, had picked up\n speed over some fairly even terrain,\n but now he slowed again,\n puzzled. There was something\n wrong ahead. He couldn't quite\n figure it out.\n\n\n Diego, beside him, had sat\n quietly so far, peering eagerly\n through the windshield, not saying\n a word. Now suddenly he\n cried in a high thin tenor:\n\n\n \"\nCuidado! Cuidado! Un abismo!\n\"\n\n\n Jim saw it at the same time\n and hit the brakes so hard the\n groundcar would have stood on\n its nose had its wheels been\n smaller. They skidded to a stop.\n\n\n The chasm that had caused\n him such a long detour before\n had widened, evidently in the big\n quake that had hit earlier. Now\n it was a canyon, half a kilometer\n wide. Five meters from the edge\n he looked out over blank space\n at the far wall, and could not see\n the bottom.\n\n\n Cursing choice Dutch profanity,\n Jan wheeled the groundcar\n northward and drove along the\n edge of the abyss as fast as he\n could. He wasted half an hour before\n realizing that it was getting\n no narrower.\n\n\n There was no point in going\n back southward. It might be a\n hundred kilometers long or a\n thousand, but he never could\n reach the end of it and thread\n the tumbled rocks of Den Hoorn\n to Oostpoort before the G-boat\n blastoff.\n\n\n There was nothing to do but\n turn back to Rathole and see if\n some other way could not be\n found.\nJan sat in the half-buried room\n and enjoyed the luxury of a pipe\n filled with some of Theodorus\n Neimeijer's mild tobacco. Before\n him, Dr. Sanchez sat with crossed\n legs, cleaning his fingernails\n with a scalpel. Diego's mother\n talked to the boy in low, liquid\n tones in a corner of the room.\nJan was at a loss to know how\n people whose technical knowledge\n was as skimpy as it obviously\n was in Rathole were able to build\n these semi-underground domes to\n resist the earth shocks that came\n from Den Hoorn. But this one\n showed no signs of stress. A religious\n print and a small pencil\n sketch of Señora Murillo, probably\n done by the boy, were awry\n on the inward-curving walls, but\n that was all.\n\n\n Jan felt justifiably exasperated\n at these Spanish-speaking people.\n\n\n \"If some effort had been made\n to take the boy to Oostpoort from\n here, instead of calling on us to\n send a car, Den Hoorn could have\n been crossed before the crack\n opened,\" he pointed out.\n\n\n \"An effort was made,\" replied\n Sanchez quietly. \"Perhaps you do\n not fully realize our position\n here. We have no engines except\n the stationary generators that\n give us current for our air-conditioning\n and our utilities. They\n are powered by the windmills. We\n do not have gasoline engines for\n vehicles, so our vehicles are operated\n by hand.\"\n\n\n \"You push them?\" demanded\n Jan incredulously.\n\n\n \"No. You've seen pictures of\n the pump-cars that once were\n used on terrestrial railroads?\n Ours are powered like that, but\n we cannot operate them when the\n Venerian wind is blowing. By the\n time I diagnosed the Venus Shadow\n in Diego, the wind was coming\n up, and we had no way to get\n him to Oostpoort.\"\n\n\n \"Mmm,\" grunted Jan. He\n shifted uncomfortably and looked\n at the pair in the corner. The\n blonde head was bent over the\n boy protectingly, and over his\n mother's shoulder Diego's black\n eyes returned Jan's glance.\n\n\n \"If the disease has just started,\n the boy could wait for the\n next Earth ship, couldn't he?\"\n asked Jan.\n\n\n \"I said I had just diagnosed it,\n not that it had just started,\nseñor\n,\" corrected Sanchez. \"As\n you know, the trip to Earth takes\n 145 days and it can be started\n only when the two planets are at\n the right position in their orbits.\n Have you ever seen anyone die\n of the Venus Shadow?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I have,\" replied Jan in a\n low voice. He had seen two people\n die of it, and it had not been\n pleasant.\n\n\n Medical men thought it was a\n deficiency disease, but they had\n not traced down the deficiency responsible.\n Treatment by vitamins,\n diet, antibiotics, infrared\n and ultraviolet rays, all were useless.\n The only thing that could\n arrest and cure the disease was\n removal from the dry, cloud-hung\n surface of Venus and return to a\n moist, sunny climate on Earth.\n\n\n Without that treatment, once\n the typical mottled texture of the\n skin appeared, the flesh rapidly\n deteriorated and fell away in\n chunks. The victim remained unfevered\n and agonizingly conscious\n until the degeneration\n reached a vital spot.\n\n\n \"If you have,\" said Sanchez,\n \"you must realize that Diego cannot\n wait for a later ship, if his\n life is to be saved. He must get\n to Earth at once.\"\nJan puffed at the Heerenbaai-Tabak\n and cogitated. The place\n was aptly named. It was a ratty\n community. The boy was a dark-skinned\n little Spaniard—of Mexican\n origin, perhaps. But he was\n a boy, and a human being.\n\n\n A thought occurred to him.\n From what he had seen and\n heard, the entire economy of Rathole\n could not support the tremendous\n expense of sending the\n boy across the millions of miles\n to Earth by spaceship.\n\n\n \"Who's paying his passage?\"\n he asked. \"The Dutch Central\n Venus Company isn't exactly a\n charitable institution.\"\n\n\n \"Your\nSeñor\nDekker said that\n would be taken care of,\" replied\n Sanchez.\n\n\n Jan relit his pipe silently, making\n a mental resolution that Dekker\n wouldn't take care of it alone.\n Salaries for Venerian service\n were high, and many of the men\n at Oostpoort would contribute\n readily to such a cause.\n\n\n \"Who is Diego's father?\" he\n asked.\n\n\n \"He was Ramón Murillo, a very\n good mechanic,\" answered Sanchez,\n with a sliding sidelong\n glance at Jan's face. \"He has\n been dead for three years.\"\n\n\n Jan grunted.\n\n\n \"The copters at Oostpoort can't\n buck this wind,\" he said thoughtfully,\n \"or I'd have come in one of\n those in the first place instead of\n trying to cross Den Hoorn by\n land. But if you have any sort of\n aircraft here, it might make it\n downwind—if it isn't wrecked on\n takeoff.\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid not,\" said Sanchez.\n\n\n \"Too bad. There's nothing we\n can do, then. The nearest settlement\n west of here is more than\n a thousand kilometers away, and\n I happen to know they have no\n planes, either. Just copters. So\n that's no help.\"\n\n\n \"Wait,\" said Sanchez, lifting\n the scalpel and tilting his head.\n \"I believe there is something,\n though we cannot use it. This\n was once an American naval base,\n and the people here were civilian\n employes who refused to move\n north with it. There was a flying\n machine they used for short-range\n work, and one was left behind—probably\n with a little help\n from the people of the settlement.\n But....\"\n\n\n \"What kind of machine? Copter\n or plane?\"\n\n\n \"They call it a flying platform.\n It carries two men, I believe.\n But,\nseñor\n....\"\n\n\n \"I know them. I've operated\n them, before I left Earth. Man,\n you don't expect me to try to fly\n one of those little things in this\n wind? They're tricky as they can\n be, and the passengers are absolutely\n unprotected!\"\n\n\n \"\nSeñor\n, I have asked you to do\n nothing.\"\n\n\n \"No, you haven't,\" muttered\n Jan. \"But you know I'll do it.\"\n\n\n Sanchez looked into his face,\n smiling faintly and a little sadly.\n\n\n \"I was sure you would be willing,\"\n he said. He turned and\n spoke in Spanish to Mrs. Murillo.\n\n\n The woman rose to her feet\n and came to them. As Jan arose,\n she looked up at him, tears in\n her eyes.\n\n\n \"\nGracias\n,\" she murmured. \"\nUn\n millón de gracias.\n\"\n\n\n She lifted his hands in hers\n and kissed them.\n\n\n Jan disengaged himself gently,\n embarrassed. But it occurred to\n him, looking down on the bowed\n head of the beautiful young\n widow, that he might make some\n flying trips back over here in his\n leisure time. Language barriers\n were not impassable, and feminine\n companionship might cure\n his neurotic, history-born distaste\n for Spaniards, for more\n than one reason.\n\n\n Sanchez was tugging at his\n elbow.\n\n\n \"\nSeñor\n, I have been trying to\n tell you,\" he said. \"It is generous\n and good of you, and I wanted\nSeñora\nMurillo to know what a\n brave man you are. But have you\n forgotten that we have no gasoline\n engines here? There is no\n fuel for the flying platform.\"\nThe platform was in a warehouse\n which, like the rest of the\n structures in Rathole, was a\n half-buried dome. The platform's\n ring-shaped base was less than a\n meter thick, standing on four\n metal legs. On top of it, in the\n center, was a railed circle that\n would hold two men, but would\n crowd them. Two small gasoline\n engines sat on each side of this\n railed circle and between them on\n a third side was the fuel tank.\n The passengers entered it on the\n fourth side.\n\n\n The machine was dusty and\n spotted with rust, Jan, surrounded\n by Sanchez, Diego and a dozen\n men, inspected it thoughtfully.\n The letters USN*SES were\n painted in white on the platform\n itself, and each engine bore the\n label \"Hiller.\"\n\n\n Jan peered over the edge of the\n platform at the twin-ducted fans\n in their plastic shrouds. They\n appeared in good shape. Each\n was powered by one of the engines,\n transmitted to it by heavy\n rubber belts.\n\n\n Jan sighed. It was an unhappy\n situation. As far as he could determine,\n without making tests,\n the engines were in perfect condition.\n Two perfectly good engines,\n and no fuel for them.\n\n\n \"You're sure there's no gasoline,\n anywhere in Rathole?\" he\n asked Sanchez.\n\n\n Sanchez smiled ruefully, as he\n had once before, at Jan's appellation\n for the community. The inhabitants'\n term for it was simply\n \"\nLa Ciudad Nuestra\n\"—\"Our\n Town.\" But he made no protest.\n He turned to one of the other\n men and talked rapidly for a few\n moments in Spanish.\n\n\n \"None,\nseñor\n,\" he said, turning\n back to Jan. \"The Americans, of\n course, kept much of it when\n they were here, but the few\n things we take to Oostpoort to\n trade could not buy precious gasoline.\n We have electricity in\n plenty if you can power the platform\n with it.\"\n\n\n Jan thought that over, trying\n to find a way.\n\n\n \"No, it wouldn't work,\" he\n said. \"We could rig batteries on\n the platform and electric motors\n to turn the propellers. But batteries\n big enough to power it all\n the way to Oostpoort would be\n so heavy the machine couldn't lift\n them off the ground. If there\n were some way to carry a power\n line all the way to Oostpoort, or\n to broadcast the power to it....\n But it's a light-load machine,\n and must have an engine that\n gives it the necessary power from\n very little weight.\"\n\n\n Wild schemes ran through his\n head. If they were on water, instead\n of land, he could rig up a\n sail. He could still rig up a sail,\n for a groundcar, except for the\n chasm out on Den Hoorn.\n\n\n The groundcar! Jan straightened\n and snapped his fingers.\n\n\n \"Doctor!\" he explained. \"Send\n a couple of men to drain the rest\n of the fuel from my groundcar.\n And let's get this platform above\n ground and tie it down until we\n can get it started.\"\n\n\n Sanchez gave rapid orders in\n Spanish. Two of the men left at a\n run, carrying five-gallon cans\n with them.\n\n\n Three others picked up the\n platform and carried it up a ramp\n and outside. As soon as they\n reached ground level, the wind\n hit them. They dropped the platform\n to the ground, where it\n shuddered and swayed momentarily,\n and two of the men fell\n successfully on their stomachs.\n The wind caught the third and\n somersaulted him half a dozen\n times before he skidded to a stop\n on his back with outstretched\n arms and legs. He turned over\n cautiously and crawled back to\n them.\n\n\n Jan, his head just above\n ground level, surveyed the terrain.\n There was flat ground to\n the east, clear in a fairly broad\n alley for at least half a kilometer\n before any of the domes protruded\n up into it.\n\n\n \"This is as good a spot for\n takeoff as we'll find,\" he said to\n Sanchez.\n\n\n The men put three heavy ropes\n on the platform's windward rail\n and secured it by them to the\n heavy chain that ran by the\n dome. The platform quivered and\n shuddered in the heavy wind, but\n its base was too low for it to\n overturn.\n\n\n Shortly the two men returned\n with the fuel from the groundcar,\n struggling along the chain.\n Jan got above ground in a\n crouch, clinging to the rail of the\n platform, and helped them fill\n the fuel tank with it. He primed\n the carburetors and spun the\n engines.\n\n\n Nothing happened.\nHe turned the engines over\n again. One of them coughed, and\n a cloud of blue smoke burst from\n its exhaust, but they did not\n catch.\n\n\n \"What is the matter,\nseñor\n?\"\n asked Sanchez from the dome entrance.\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" replied Jan.\n \"Maybe it's that the engines\n haven't been used in so long. I'm\n afraid I'm not a good enough\n mechanic to tell.\"\n\n\n \"Some of these men were good\n mechanics when the navy was\n here,\" said Sanchez. \"Wait.\"\n\n\n He turned and spoke to someone\n in the dome. One of the men\n of Rathole came to Jan's side and\n tried the engines. They refused\n to catch. The man made carburetor\n adjustments and tried\n again. No success.\n\n\n He sniffed, took the cap from\n the fuel tank and stuck a finger\n inside. He withdrew it, wet and\n oily, and examined it. He turned\n and spoke to Sanchez.\n\n\n \"He says that your groundcar\n must have a diesel engine,\" Sanchez\n interpreted to Jan. \"Is that\n correct?\"\n\n\n \"Why, yes, that's true.\"\n\n\n \"He says the fuel will not work\n then,\nseñor\n. He says it is low-grade\n fuel and the platform must\n have high octane gasoline.\"\n\n\n Jan threw up his hands and\n went back into the dome.\n\n\n \"I should have known that,\" he\n said unhappily. \"I would have\n known if I had thought of it.\"\n\n\n \"What is to be done, then?\"\n asked Sanchez.\n\n\n \"There's nothing that can be\n done,\" answered Jan. \"They may\n as well put the fuel back in my\n groundcar.\"\n\n\n Sanchez called orders to the\n men at the platform. While they\n worked, Jan stared out at the\n furiously spinning windmills that\n dotted Rathole.\n\n\n \"There's nothing that can be\n done,\" he repeated. \"We can't\n make the trip overland because\n of the chasm out there in Den\n Hoorn, and we can't fly the platform\n because we have no power\n for it.\"\n\n\n Windmills. Again Jan could\n imagine the flat land around\n them as his native Holland, with\n the Zuider Zee sparkling to the\n west where here the desert\n stretched under darkling clouds.\nJan looked at his watch. A\n little more than two hours before\n the G-boat's blastoff time, and it\n couldn't wait for them. It was\n nearly eight hours since he had\n left Oostpoort, and the afternoon\n was getting noticeably\n darker.\n\n\n Jan was sorry. He had done his\n best, but Venus had beaten him.\n\n\n He looked around for Diego.\n The boy was not in the dome. He\n was outside, crouched in the lee\n of the dome, playing with some\n sticks.\n\n\n Diego must know of his ailment,\n and why he had to go to\n Oostpoort. If Jan was any judge\n of character, Sanchez would have\n told him that. Whether Diego\n knew it was a life-or-death matter\n for him to be aboard the\nVanderdecken\nwhen it blasted\n off for Earth, Jan did not know.\n But the boy was around eight\n years old and he was bright, and\n he must realize the seriousness\n involved in a decision to send him\n all the way to Earth.\n\n\n Jan felt ashamed of the exuberant\n foolishness which had\n led him to spout ancient history\n and claim descent from William\n of Orange. It had been a hobby,\n and artificial topic for conversation\n that amused him and his\n companions, a defense against\n the monotony of Venus that had\n begun to affect his personality\n perhaps a bit more than he realized.\n He did not dislike Spaniards;\n he had no reason to dislike\n them. They were all humans—the\n Spanish, the Dutch, the Germans,\n the Americans, even the\n Russians—fighting a hostile\n planet together. He could not understand\n a word Diego said when\n the boy spoke to him, but he\n liked Diego and wished desperately\n he could do something.\n\n\n Outside, the windmills of Rathole\n spun merrily.\n\n\n There was power, the power\n that lighted and air-conditioned\n Rathole, power in the air all\n around them. If he could only use\n it! But to turn the platform on\n its side and let the wind spin the\n propellers was pointless.\n\n\n He turned to Sanchez.\n\n\n \"Ask the men if there are any\n spare parts for the platform,\" he\n said. \"Some of those legs it\n stands on, transmission belts,\n spare propellers.\"\n\n\n Sanchez asked.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" he said. \"Many spare\n parts, but no fuel.\"\n\n\n Jan smiled a tight smile.\n\n\n \"Tell them to take the engines\n out,\" he said. \"Since we have no\n fuel, we may as well have no\n engines.\"\nPieter Heemskerk stood by the\n ramp to the stubby G-boat and\n checked his watch. It was X\n minus fifteen—fifteen minutes\n before blastoff time.\n\n\n Heemskerk wore a spacesuit.\n Everything was ready, except\n climbing aboard, closing the airlock\n and pressing the firing pin.\n\n\n What on Venus could have happened\n to Van Artevelde? The last\n radio message they had received,\n more than an hour ago, had said\n he and the patient took off successfully\n in an aircraft. What\n sort of aircraft could he be flying\n that would require an hour to\n cover eighty kilometers, with the\n wind?\n\n\n Heemskerk could only draw the\n conclusion that the aircraft had\n been wrecked somewhere in Den\n Hoorn. As a matter of fact, he\n knew that preparations were being\n made now to send a couple of\n groundcars out to search for it.\n\n\n This, of course, would be too\n late to help the patient Van Artevelde\n was bringing, but Heemskerk\n had no personal interest in\n the patient. His worry was all for\n his friend. The two of them had\n enjoyed chess and good beer together\n on his last three trips to\n Venus, and Heemskerk hoped\n very sincerely that the big blond\n man wasn't hurt.\n\n\n He glanced at his watch again.\n X minus twelve. In two minutes,\n it would be time for him to walk\n up the ramp into the G-boat. In\n seven minutes the backward\n count before blastoff would start\n over the area loudspeakers.\n\n\n Heemskerk shook his head sadly.\n And Van Artevelde had promised\n to come back triumphant,\n with a broom at his masthead!\n\n\n It was a high thin whine borne\n on the wind, carrying even\n through the walls of his spacehelmet,\n that attracted Heemskerk's\n attention and caused him\n to pause with his foot on the\n ramp. Around him, the rocket\n mechanics were staring up at the\n sky, trying to pinpoint the noise.\n\n\n Heemskerk looked westward.\n At first he could see nothing,\n then there was a moving dot\n above the mountain, against the\n indigo umbrella of clouds. It\n grew, it swooped, it approached\n and became a strange little flying\n disc with two people standing on\n it and\nsomething\nsticking up\n from its deck in front of them.\n\n\n A broom?\n\n\n No. The platform hovered and\n began to settle nearby, and there\n was Van Artevelde leaning over\n its rail and fiddling frantically\n with whatever it was that stuck\n up on it—a weird, angled contraption\n of pipes and belts topped\n by a whirring blade. A boy stood\n at his shoulder and tried to help\n him. As the platform descended\n to a few meters above ground,\n the Dutchman slashed at the contraption,\n the cut ends of belts\n whipped out wildly and the platform\n slid to the ground with a\n rush. It hit with a clatter and its\n two passengers tumbled prone to\n the ground.\n\n\n \"Jan!\" boomed Heemskerk,\n forcing his voice through the helmet\n diaphragm and rushing over\n to his friend. \"I was afraid you\n were lost!\"\n\n\n Jan struggled to his feet and\n leaned down to help the boy up.\n\n\n \"Here's your patient, Pieter,\"\n he said. \"Hope you have a spacesuit\n in his size.\"\n\n\n \"I can find one. And we'll have\n to hurry for blastoff. But, first,\n what happened? Even that\n damned thing ought to get here\n from Rathole faster than that.\"\n\n\n \"Had no fuel,\" replied Jan\n briefly. \"My engines were all\n right, but I had no power to run\n them. So I had to pull the engines\n and rig up a power source.\"\n\n\n Heemskerk stared at the platform.\n On its railing was rigged a\n tripod of battered metal pipes,\n atop which a big four-blade propeller\n spun slowly in what wind\n was left after it came over the\n western mountain. Over the\n edges of the platform, running\n from the two propellers in its\n base, hung a series of tattered\n transmission belts.\n\n\n \"Power source?\" repeated\n Heemskerk. \"That?\"\n\n\n \"Certainly,\" replied Jan with\n dignity. \"The power source any\n good Dutchman turns to in an\n emergency: a windmill!\"\nTHE END\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAmazing Science Fiction Stories\nApril 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\n Minor spelling and typographical errors\n have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Jan in the groundcar diving across Den Hoorn?", "question_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U_1", "options": ["To retrieve a medical patient", "To flee the storm that was hitting the main station", "To refill his fuel", "To bring supplies to the settlement of Rathole"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Jan unable to return to Oosport in the same way that he left?", "question_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U_2", "options": ["The storms became too intense", "He forgot the route that he took", "His ground car ran out of fuel", "An earthquake altered the terrain"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What about the settlers at Rathole was off-putting to Jan?", "question_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U_3", "options": ["They used windmills for power", "They were of Spanish-speaking descent", "They were sick with the Venus Shadow", "They lived underground"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Jan referring to when he thanked Sanchez for the good luck wishes?", "question_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U_4", "options": ["Dealing with the symptoms of Venus Shadow", "Helping the sick child", "The difficulty of the first crossing", "Returning to Earth"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the colony of Rathole not have any fuel?", "question_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U_5", "options": ["It had been stolen by the Russian settlers", "It had frozen solid", "They relied on wind and manual power", "They had run out very recently"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why could the helicopters from the main settlement pick up Jan and Diego?", "question_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U_6", "options": ["They were out of fuel", "The wind was too severe", "They had been moved north with the naval base", "The distance was too far"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Jan's reason for wanting to return to Rathole after the rescue mission?", "question_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U_7", "options": ["To rescue more sick settlers", "To visit Mrs. Murillo", "To bring fuel and supplies", "To return the platform"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the fuel from the groundcar not work in the flying platform?", "question_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U_8", "options": ["The fuel was too cold to be combusted", "The fuel was old and no longer good", "It was the wrong type of fuel", "The engines in the flying platform had gone bad"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Jan end up using to power the flying platform?", "question_unique_id": "22590_LPM54M2U_9", "options": ["A sail", "A broom", "A windmill", "Fuel from the ground car"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/9/22590//22590-h//22590-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22867", "set_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Meeting of the Board", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "Satire; PS; Industrial relations -- Fiction; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nThe Counterfeit Man More Science Fiction\n Stories by Alan E. Nourse\npublished in 1963. Extensive research did\n not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was\n renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected\n without note.\nMeeting\n\n of the\n\n Board\nIt\n was going to be a bad day. As he pushed his way nervously\n through the crowds toward the Exit Strip, Walter Towne\n turned the dismal prospect over and over in his mind. The\n potential gloominess of this particular day had descended upon\n him the instant the morning buzzer had gone off, making it\n even more tempting than usual just to roll over and forget\n about it all. Twenty minutes later, the water-douse came to\n drag him, drenched and gurgling, back to the cruel cold world.\n He had wolfed down his morning Koffee-Kup with one eye\n on the clock and one eye on his growing sense of impending\n crisis. And now, to make things just a trifle worse, he was\n going to be late again.\n\n\n He struggled doggedly across the rumbling Exit strip toward\n the plant entrance. After all, he told himself, why should he be\n so upset? He\nwas\nVice President-in-Charge-of-Production of\n the Robling Titanium Corporation. What could they do to\n him, really? He had rehearsed\nhis\npart many times, squaring\n his thin shoulders, looking the union boss straight in the eye\n and saying, \"Now, see here, Torkleson—\" But he knew, when\n the showdown came, that he wouldn't say any such thing. And\n this was the morning that the showdown would come.\n\n\n Oh, not because of the\nlateness\n. Of course Bailey, the shop\n steward, would take his usual delight in bringing that up. But\n this seemed hardly worthy of concern this morning. The reports\n waiting on his desk were what worried him. The sales\n reports. The promotion-draw reports. The royalty reports. The\n anticipated dividend reports. Walter shook his head wearily.\n The shop steward was a goad, annoying, perhaps even infuriating,\n but tolerable. Torkleson was a different matter.\n\n\n He pulled his worn overcoat down over frayed shirt sleeves,\n and tried vainly to straighten the celluloid collar that kept\n scooting his tie up under his ear. Once off the moving strip, he\n started up the Robling corridor toward the plant gate. Perhaps\n he would be fortunate. Maybe the reports would be late.\n Maybe his secretary's two neurones would fail to synapse this\n morning, and she'd lose them altogether. And, as long as he\n was dreaming, maybe Bailey would break his neck on the way\n to work. He walked quickly past the workers' lounge, glancing\n in at the groups of men, arguing politics and checking the\n stock market reports before they changed from their neat gray\n business suits to their welding dungarees. Running up the\n stairs to the administrative wing, he paused outside the door\n to punch the time clock. 8:04. Damn. If only Bailey could be\n sick—\n\n\n Bailey was not sick. The administrative offices were humming\n with frantic activity as Walter glanced down the rows\n of cubbyholes. In the middle of it all sat Bailey, in his black-and-yellow\n checkered tattersall, smoking a large cigar. His\n feet were planted on his desk top, but he hadn't started on his\n morning Western yet. He was busy glaring, first at the clock,\n then at Walter.\n\n\n \"Late again, I see,\" the shop steward growled.\n\n\n Walter gulped. \"Yes, sir. Just four minutes, this time, sir.\n You know those crowded strips—\"\n\n\n \"So it's\njust\nfour minutes now, eh?\" Bailey's feet came down\n with a crash. \"After last month's fine production record, you\n think four minutes doesn't matter, eh? Think just because\n you're a vice president it's all right to mosey in here whenever\n you feel like it.\" He glowered. \"Well, this is three times this\n month you've been late, Towne. That's a demerit for each\n time, and you know what that means.\"\n\n\n \"You wouldn't count four minutes as a whole demerit!\"\n\n\n Bailey grinned. \"Wouldn't I, now! You just add up your\n pay envelope on Friday. Ten cents an hour off for each\n demerit.\"\n\n\n Walter sighed and shuffled back to his desk. Oh, well. It\n could have been worse. They might have fired him like poor\n Cartwright last month. He'd just\nhave\nto listen to that morning\n buzzer.\n\n\n The reports were on his desk. He picked them up warily.\n Maybe they wouldn't be so bad. He'd had more freedom this\n last month than before, maybe there'd been a policy change.\n Maybe Torkleson was gaining confidence in him. Maybe—\n\n\n The reports were worse than he had ever dreamed.\n\n\n \"\nTowne!\n\"\n\n\n Walter jumped a foot. Bailey was putting down the visiphone\n receiver. His grin spread unpleasantly from ear to ear.\n \"What have you been doing lately? Sabotaging the production\n line?\"\n\n\n \"What's the trouble now?\"\n\n\n Bailey jerked a thumb significantly at the ceiling. \"The\n boss wants to see you. And you'd better have the right answers,\n too. The boss seems to have a lot of questions.\"\n\n\n Walter rose slowly from his seat. This was it, then. Torkleson\n had already seen the reports. He started for the door, his\n knees shaking.\n\n\n It hadn't always been like this, he reflected miserably.\n Time was when things had been very different. It had\nmeant\nsomething to be vice president of a huge industrial firm like\n Robling Titanium. A man could have had a fine house of\n his own, and a 'copter-car, and belong to the Country Club;\n maybe even have a cottage on a lake somewhere.\n\n\n Walter could almost remember those days with Robling,\n before the switchover, before that black day when the exchange\n of ten little shares of stock had thrown the Robling\n Titanium Corporation into the hands of strange and unnatural\n owners.\nThe door was of heavy stained oak, with bold letters edged\n in gold:\nTITANIUM WORKERS\n\n OF AMERICA\n\n Amalgamated Locals\n\n Daniel P. Torkleson, Secretary\n\n\n The secretary flipped down the desk switch and eyed Walter\n with pity. \"Mr. Torkleson will see you.\"\n\n\n Walter pushed through the door into the long, handsome\n office. For an instant he felt a pang of nostalgia—the floor-to-ceiling\n windows looking out across the long buildings of the\n Robling plant, the pine paneling, the broad expanse of desk—\n\n\n \"Well? Don't just stand there. Shut the door and come over\n here.\" The man behind the desk hoisted his three hundred\n well-dressed pounds and glared at Walter from under flagrant\n eyebrows. Torkleson's whole body quivered as he slammed\n a sheaf of papers down on the desk. \"Just what do you think\n you're doing with this company, Towne?\"\n\n\n Walter swallowed. \"I'm production manager of the corporation.\"\n\n\n \"And just what does the production manager\ndo\nall day?\"\n\n\n Walter reddened. \"He organizes the work of the plant, establishes\n production lines, works with Promotion and Sales,\n integrates Research and Development, operates the planning\n machines.\"\n\n\n \"And you think you do a pretty good job of it, eh? Even\n asked for a raise last year!\" Torkleson's voice was dangerous.\n\n\n Walter spread his hands. \"I do my best. I've been doing it\n for thirty years. I should know what I'm doing.\"\n\n\n \"\nThen how do you explain these reports?\n\" Torkleson threw\n the heap of papers into Walter's arms, and paced up and down\n behind the desk. \"\nLook\nat them! Sales at rock bottom. Receipts\n impossible. Big orders canceled. The worst reports in\n seven years, and you say you know your job!\"\n\n\n \"I've been doing everything I could,\" Walter snapped. \"Of\n course the reports are bad, they couldn't help but be. We\n haven't met a production schedule in over two years. No plant\n can keep up production the way the men are working.\"\n\n\n Torkleson's face darkened. He leaned forward slowly. \"So\n it's the\nmen\nnow, is it? Go ahead. Tell me what's wrong with\n the men.\"\n\n\n \"Nothing's wrong with the men—if they'd only work. But\n they come in when they please, and leave when they please,\n and spend half their time changing and the other half on\n Koffee-Kup. No company could survive this. But that's only\n half of it—\" Walter searched through the reports frantically.\n \"This International Jet Transport account—they dropped us\n because we haven't had a new engine in six years. Why? Because\n Research and Development hasn't had any money for\n six years. What can two starved engineers and a second rate\n chemist drag out of an attic laboratory for competition in the\n titanium market?\" Walter took a deep breath. \"I've warned\n you time and again. Robling had built up accounts over the\n years with fine products and new models. But since the switchover\n seven years ago, you and your board have forced me to\n play the cheap products for the quick profit in order to give\n your men their dividends. Now the bottom's dropped out. We\n couldn't turn a quick profit on the big, important accounts, so\n we had to cancel them. If you had let me manage the company\n the way it should have been run—\"\n\n\n Torkleson had been slowly turning purple. Now he slammed\n his fist down on the desk. \"We should just turn the company\n back to Management again, eh? Just let you have a free hand\n to rob us blind again. Well, it won't work, Towne. Not while\n I'm secretary of this union. We fought long and hard for control\n of this corporation, just the way all the other unions did.\n I know. I was through it all.\" He sat back smugly, his cheeks\n quivering with emotion. \"You might say that I was a national\n leader in the movement. But I did it only for the men. The\n men want their dividends. They own the stock, stock is supposed\n to pay dividends.\"\n\n\n \"But they're cutting their own throats,\" Walter wailed.\n \"You can't build a company and make it grow the way I've\n been forced to run it.\"\n\n\n \"Details!\" Torkleson snorted. \"I don't care\nhow\nthe dividends\n come in. That's your job. My job is to report a dividend\n every six months to the men who own the stock, the men working\n on the production lines.\"\n\n\n Walter nodded bitterly. \"And every year the dividend has\n to be higher than the last, or you and your fat friends are\n likely to be thrown out of your jobs—right? No more steaks\n every night. No more private gold-plated Buicks for you boys.\n No more twenty-room mansions in Westchester. No more big\n game hunting in the Rockies. No, you don't have to know\n anything but how to whip a board meeting into a frenzy so\n they'll vote you into office again each year.\"\n\n\n Torkleson's eyes glittered. His voice was very soft. \"I've always\n liked you, Walter. So I'm going to pretend I didn't hear\n you.\" He paused, then continued. \"But here on my desk is a\n small bit of white paper. Unless you have my signature on\n that paper on the first of next month, you are out of a job,\n on grounds of incompetence. And I will personally see that\n you go on every White list in the country.\"\n\n\n Walter felt the fight go out of him like a dying wind. He\n knew what the White list meant. No job, anywhere, ever, in\n management. No chance, ever, to join a union. No more\n house, no more weekly pay envelope. He spread his hands\n weakly. \"What do you want?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"I want a production plan on my desk within twenty-four\n hours. A plan that will guarantee me a five per cent increase\n in dividends in the next six months. And you'd better move\n fast, because I'm not fooling.\"\nBack in his cubbyhole downstairs, Walter stared hopelessly\n at the reports. He had known it would come to this sooner or\n later. They all knew it—Hendricks of Promotion, Pendleton\n of Sales, the whole managerial staff.\n\n\n It was wrong, all the way down the line. Walter had\n fought it tooth and nail since the day Torkleson had installed\n the moose heads in Walter's old office, and moved him down\n to the cubbyhole, under Bailey's watchful eye. He had argued,\n and battled, and pleaded, and lost. He had watched the company\n deteriorate day by day. Now they blamed him, and\n threatened his job, and he was helpless to do anything about it.\n\n\n He stared at the machines, clicking busily against the wall.\n An idea began to form in his head. Helpless?\n\n\n Not quite. Not if the others could see it, go along with it.\n It was a repugnant idea. But there was one thing they could\n do that even Torkleson and his fat-jowled crew would understand.\n\n\n They could go on strike.\n\"It's ridiculous,\" the lawyer spluttered, staring at the circle\n of men in the room. \"How can I give you an opinion on the\n legality of the thing? There isn't any legal precedent that I\n know of.\" He mopped his bald head with a large white handkerchief.\n \"There just hasn't\nbeen\na case of a company's management\n striking against its own labor. It—it isn't done. Oh,\n there have been lockouts, but this isn't the same thing at all.\"\n\n\n Walter nodded. \"Well, we couldn't very well lock the men\n out, they own the plant. We were thinking more of a lock-\nin\nsort of thing.\" He turned to Paul Hendricks and the others.\n \"We know how the machines operate. They don't. We also\n know that the data we keep in the machines is essential to\n running the business; the machines figure production quotas,\n organize blueprints, prepare distribution lists, test promotion\n schemes. It would take an office full of managerial experts to\n handle even a single phase of the work without the machines.\"\n\n\n The man at the window hissed, and Pendleton quickly\n snapped out the lights. They sat in darkness, hardly daring to\n breathe. Then: \"Okay. Just the man next door coming home.\"\n\n\n Pendleton sighed. \"You're sure you didn't let them suspect\n anything, Walter? They wouldn't be watching the house?\"\n\n\n \"I don't think so. And you all came alone, at different\n times.\" He nodded to the window guard, and turned back to\n the lawyer. \"So we can't be sure of the legal end. You'd have\n to be on your toes.\"\n\n\n \"I still don't see how we could work it,\" Hendricks objected.\n His heavy face was wrinkled with worry. \"Torkleson is no\n fool, and he has a lot of power in the National Association of\n Union Stockholders. All he'd need to do is ask for managers,\n and a dozen companies would throw them to him on loan.\n They'd be able to figure out the machine system and take over\n without losing a day.\"\n\n\n \"Not quite.\" Walter was grinning. \"That's why I spoke of\n a lock-in. Before we leave, we throw the machines into feedback,\n every one of them. Lock them into reverberating circuits\n with a code sequence key. Then all they'll do is buzz and sputter\n until the feedback is broken with the key. And the key is\n our secret. It'll tie the Robling office into granny knots, and\n scabs won't be able to get any more data out of the machines\n than Torkleson could. With a lawyer to handle injunctions,\n we've got them strapped.\"\n\n\n \"For what?\" asked the lawyer.\n\n\n Walter turned on him sharply. \"For new contracts. Contracts\n to let us manage the company the way it should be managed.\n If they won't do it, they won't get another Titanium\n product off their production lines for the rest of the year, and\n their dividends will\nreally\ntake a nosedive.\"\n\n\n \"That means you'll have to beat Torkleson,\" said Bates.\n \"He'll never go along.\"\n\n\n \"Then he'll be left behind.\"\n\n\n Hendricks stood up, brushing off his dungarees. \"I'm with\n you, Walter. I've taken all of Torkleson that I want to. And\n I'm sick of the junk we've been trying to sell people.\"\n\n\n The others nodded. Walter rubbed his hands together. \"All\n right. Tomorrow we work as usual, until the noon whistle.\n When we go off for lunch, we throw the machines into lock-step.\n Then we just don't come back. But the big thing is to\n keep it quiet until the noon whistle.\" He turned to the lawyer.\n \"Are you with us, Jeff?\"\n\n\n Jeff Bates shook his head sadly. \"I'm with you. I don't know\n why, you haven't got a leg to stand on. But if you want to\n commit suicide, that's all right with me.\" He picked up his\n briefcase, and started for the door. \"I'll have your contract\n demands by tomorrow,\" he grinned. \"See you at the lynching.\"\n\n\n They got down to the details of planning.\nThe news hit the afternoon telecasts the following day.\n Headlines screamed:\nMANAGEMENT SABOTAGES ROBLING MACHINES\n\n OFFICE STRIKERS THREATEN LABOR ECONOMY\n\n ROBLING LOCK-IN CREATES PANDEMONIUM\n\n\n There was a long, indignant statement from Daniel P.\n Torkleson, condemning Towne and his followers for \"flagrant\n violation of management contracts and illegal fouling of managerial\n processes.\" Ben Starkey, President of the Board of\n American Steel, expressed \"shock and regret\"; the Amalgamated\n Buttonhole Makers held a mass meeting in protest, demanding\n that \"the instigators of this unprecedented crime be\n permanently barred from positions in American Industry.\"\n\n\n In Washington, the nation's economists were more cautious\n in their views. Yes, it\nwas\nan unprecedented action. Yes, there\n would undoubtedly be repercussions—many industries were\n having managerial troubles; but as for long term effects, it was\n difficult to say just at present.\n\n\n On the Robling production lines the workmen blinked at\n each other, and at their machines, and wondered vaguely what\n it was all about.\n\n\n Yet in all the upheaval, there was very little expression of\n surprise. Step by step, through the years, economists had been\n watching with wary eyes the growing movement toward union,\n control of industry. Even as far back as the '40's and '50's\n unions, finding themselves oppressed with the administration\n of growing sums of money—pension funds, welfare funds,\n medical insurance funds, accruing union dues—had begun investing\n in corporate stock. It was no news to them that money\n could make money. And what stock more logical to buy than\n stock in their own companies?\n\n\n At first it had been a quiet movement. One by one the\n smaller firms had tottered, bled drier and drier by increasing\n production costs, increasing labor demands, and an ever-dwindling\n margin of profit. One by one they had seen their\n stocks tottering as they faced bankruptcy, only to be gobbled\n up by the one ready buyer with plenty of funds to buy with.\n At first, changes had been small and insignificant: boards of\n directors shifted; the men were paid higher wages and worked\n shorter hours; there were tighter management policies; and\n a little less money was spent on extras like Research and\n Development.\n\n\n At first—until that fateful night when Daniel P. Torkleson\n of TWA and Jake Squill of Amalgamated Buttonhole Makers\n spent a long evening with beer and cigars in a hotel room, and\n floated the loan that threw steel to the unions. Oil had followed\n with hardly a fight, and as the unions began to feel their oats,\n the changes grew more radical.\n\n\n Walter Towne remembered those stormy days well. The\n gradual undercutting of the managerial salaries, the tightening\n up of inter-union collusion to establish the infamous White\n list of Recalcitrant Managers. The shift from hourly wage to\n annual salary for the factory workers, and the change to the\n other pole for the managerial staff. And then, with creeping\n malignancy, the hungry howling of the union bosses for more\n and higher dividends, year after year, moving steadily toward\n the inevitable crisis.\n\n\n Until Shop Steward Bailey suddenly found himself in charge\n of a dozen sputtering machines and an empty office.\nTorkleson was waiting to see the shop steward when he\n came in next morning. The union boss's office was crowded\n with TV cameras, newsmen, and puzzled workmen. The floor\n was littered with piles of ominous-looking paper. Torkleson\n was shouting into a telephone, and three lawyers were shouting\n into Torkleson's ear. He spotted Bailey and waved him through\n the crowd into an inner office room. \"Well? Did they get them\n fixed?\"\n\n\n Bailey spread his hands nervously. \"The electronics boys\n have been at it since yesterday afternoon. Practically had the\n machines apart on the floor.\"\n\n\n \"I know that, stupid,\" Torkleson roared. \"I ordered them\n there. Did they get the machines\nfixed\n?\"\n\n\n \"Uh—well, no, as a matter of fact—\"\n\n\n \"Well,\nwhat's holding them up\n?\"\n\n\n Bailey's face was a study in misery. \"The machines just go\n in circles. The circuits are locked. They just reverberate.\"\n\n\n \"Then call American Electronics. Have them send down an\n expert crew.\"\n\n\n Bailey shook his head. \"They won't come.\"\n\n\n \"They\nwhat\n?\"\n\n\n \"They said thanks, but no thanks. They don't want their\n fingers in this pie at all.\"\n\n\n \"Wait until I get O'Gilvy on the phone.\"\n\n\n \"It won't do any good, sir. They've got their own management\n troubles. They're scared silly of a sympathy strike.\"\n\n\n The door burst open, and a lawyer stuck his head in. \"What\n about those injunctions, Dan?\"\n\n\n \"Get them moving,\" Torkleson howled. \"They'll start those\n machines again, or I'll have them in jail so fast—\" He turned\n back to Bailey. \"What about the production lines?\"\n\n\n The shop steward's face lighted. \"They slipped up, there.\n There was one program that hadn't been coded into the machines\n yet. Just a minor item, but it's a starter. We found it in\n Towne's desk, blueprints all ready, promotion all planned.\"\n\n\n \"Good, good,\" Torkleson breathed. \"I have a directors'\n meeting right now, have to get the workers quieted down a\n bit. You put the program through, and give those electronics\n men three more hours to unsnarl this knot, or we throw them\n out of the union.\" He started for the door. \"What were the\n blueprints for?\"\n\n\n \"Trash cans,\" said Bailey. \"Pure titanium-steel trash cans.\"\n\n\n It took Robling Titanium approximately two days to convert\n its entire production line to titanium-steel trash cans. With the\n total resources of the giant plant behind the effort, production\n was phenomenal. In two more days the available markets were\n glutted. Within two weeks, at a conservative estimate, there\n would be a titanium-steel trash can for every man, woman,\n child, and hound dog on the North American continent. The\n jet engines, structural steels, tubing, and other pre-strike products\n piled up in the freight yards, their routing slips and order\n requisitions tied up in the reverberating machines.\n\n\n But the machines continued to buzz and sputter.\n\n\n The workers grew restive. From the first day, Towne and\n Hendricks and all the others had been picketing the plant,\n until angry crowds of workers had driven them off with shotguns.\n Then they came back in an old, weatherbeaten 'copter\n which hovered over the plant entrance carrying a banner with\n a plaintive message:\n robling titanium unfair to management\n .\n Tomatoes were hurled, fists were shaken, but the 'copter\n remained.\n\n\n The third day, Jeff Bates was served with an injunction ordering\n Towne to return to work. It was duly appealed, legal\n machinery began tying itself in knots, and the strikers still\n struck. By the fifth day there was a more serious note.\n\n\n \"You're going to have to appear, Walter. We can't dodge\n this one.\"\n\n\n \"When?\"\n\n\n \"Tomorrow morning. And before a labor-rigged judge, too.\"\n The little lawyer paced his office nervously. \"I don't like it.\n Torkleson's getting desperate. The workers are putting pressure\n on him.\"\n\n\n Walter grinned. \"Then Pendleton is doing a good job of\n selling.\"\n\n\n \"But you haven't got\ntime\n,\" the lawyer wailed. \"They'll have\n you in jail if you don't start the machines again. They may\n have you in jail if you\ndo\nstart them, too, but that's another\n bridge. Right now they want those machines going again.\"\n\n\n \"We'll see,\" said Walter. \"What time tomorrow?\"\n\n\n \"Ten o'clock.\" Bates looked up. \"And don't try to skip.\n You be there, because\nI\ndon't know what to tell them.\"\n\n\n Walter was there a half hour early. Torkleson's legal staff\n glowered from across the room. The judge glowered from\n the bench. Walter closed his eyes with a little smile as the\n charges were read: \"—breach of contract, malicious mischief,\n sabotage of the company's machines, conspiring to destroy the\n livelihood of ten thousand workers. Your Honor, we are preparing\n briefs to prove further that these men have formed a\n conspiracy to undermine the economy of the entire nation.\n We appeal to the spirit of orderly justice—\"\n\n\n Walter yawned as the words went on.\n\n\n \"Of course, if the defendant will waive his appeals against\n the previous injunctions, and will release the machines that\n were sabotaged, we will be happy to formally withdraw these\n charges.\"\n\n\n There was a rustle of sound through the courtroom. His\n Honor turned to Jeff Bates. \"Are you counsel for the defendant?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\" Bates mopped his bald scalp. \"The defendant\n pleads guilty to all counts.\"\n\n\n The union lawyer dropped his glasses on the table with a\n crash. The judge stared. \"Mr. Bates, if you plead guilty, you\n leave me no alternative—\"\n\n\n \"—but to send me to jail,\" said Walter Towne. \"Go ahead.\n Send me to jail. In fact, I\ninsist\nupon going to jail.\"\n\n\n The union lawyer's jaw sagged. There was a hurried conference.\n A recess was pleaded. Telephones buzzed. Then:\n \"Your Honor, the plaintiff desires to withdraw all charges at\n this time.\"\n\n\n \"Objection,\" Bates exclaimed. \"We've already pleaded.\"\n\n\n \"—feel sure that a settlement can be effected out of court—\"\n\n\n The case was thrown out on its ear.\n\n\n And still the machines sputtered.\nBack at the plant rumor had it that the machines were permanently\n gutted, and that the plant could never go back into\n production. Conflicting scuttlebutt suggested that persons high\n in uniondom had perpetrated the crisis deliberately, bullying\n Management into the strike for the sole purpose of cutting current\n dividends and selling stock to themselves cheaply. The\n rumors grew easier and easier to believe. The workers came\n to the plants in business suits, it was true, and lounged in the\n finest of lounges, and read the\nWall Street Journal\n, and felt like\n stockholders. But to face facts, their salaries were not the\n highest. Deduct union dues, pension fees, medical insurance\n fees, and sundry other little items which had formerly been\n paid by well-to-do managements, and very little was left but\n the semi-annual dividend checks. And now the dividends were\n tottering.\n\n\n Production lines slowed. There were daily brawls on the\n plant floor, in the lounge and locker rooms. Workers began\n joking about the trash cans; then the humor grew more and\n more remote. Finally, late in the afternoon of the eighth day,\n Bailey was once again in Torkleson's office.\n\n\n \"Well? Speak up! What's the beef this time?\"\n\n\n \"Sir—the men—I mean, there's been some nasty talk.\n They're tired of making trash cans. No challenge in it. Anyway,\n the stock room is full, and the freight yard is full, and\n the last run of orders we sent out came back because nobody\n wants any more trash cans.\" Bailey shook his head. \"The men\n won't swallow it any more. There's—well, there's been talk\n about having a board meeting.\"\n\n\n Torkleson's ruddy cheeks paled. \"Board meeting, huh?\"\n He licked his heavy lips. \"Now look, Bailey, we've always\n worked well together. I consider you a good friend of mine.\n You've got to get things under control. Tell the men we're\n making progress. Tell them Management is beginning to\n weaken from its original stand. Tell them we expect to have\n the strike broken in another few hours. Tell them anything.\"\n\n\n He waited until Bailey was gone. Then, with a trembling\n hand he lifted the visiphone receiver. \"Get me Walter Towne,\"\n he said.\n\"I'm not an unreasonable man,\" Torkleson was saying\n miserably, waving his fat paws in the air as he paced back and\n forth in front of the spokesmen for the striking managers.\n \"Perhaps we were a little demanding, I concede it! Overenthusiastic\n with our ownership, and all that. But I'm sure we\n can come to some agreement. A hike in wage scale is certainly\n within reason. Perhaps we can even arrange for better company\n houses.\"\n\n\n Walter Towne stifled a yawn. \"Perhaps you didn't understand\n us. The men are agitating for a meeting of the board of\n directors. We want to be at that meeting. That's the only thing\n we're interested in right now.\"\n\n\n \"But there wasn't anything about a board meeting in the\n contract your lawyer presented.\"\n\n\n \"I know, but you rejected that contract. So we tore it up.\n Anyway, we've changed our minds.\"\n\n\n Torkleson sat down, his heavy cheeks quivering. \"Gentlemen,\n be reasonable! I can guarantee you your jobs, even give\n you a free hand with the management. So the dividends won't be\n so large—the men will have to get used to that. That's it, we'll\n put it through at the next executive conference, give you—\"\n\n\n \"The board meeting,\" Walter said gently. \"That'll be enough\n for us.\"\n\n\n The union boss swore and slammed his fist on the desk.\n \"Walk out in front of those men after what you've done? You're\n fools! Well, I've given you your chance. You'll get your board\n meeting. But you'd better come armed. Because I know how\n to handle this kind of board meeting, and if I have anything\n to say about it, this one will end with a massacre.\"\nThe meeting was held in a huge auditorium in the Robling\n administration building. Since every member of the union\n owned stock in the company, every member had the right to\n vote for members of the board of directors. But in the early\n days of the switchover, the idea of a board of directors smacked\n too strongly of the old system of corporate organization to suit\n the men. The solution had been simple, if a trifle ungainly.\n Everyone who owned stock in Robling Titanium was automatically\n a member of the board of directors, with Torkleson\n as chairman of the board. The stockholders numbered over\n ten thousand.\n\n\n They were all present. They were packed in from the wall\n to the stage, and hanging from the rafters. They overflowed\n into the corridors. They jammed the lobby. Ten thousand men\n rose with a howl of anger when Walter Towne walked out on\n the stage. But they quieted down again as Dan Torkleson\n started to speak.\n\n\n It was a masterful display of rabble-rousing. Torkleson\n paced the stage, his fat body shaking with agitation, pointing\n a chubby finger again and again at Walter Towne. He pranced\n and he ranted. He paused at just the right times for thunderous\n peals of applause.\n\n\n \"This morning in my office we offered to compromise with\n these jackals,\" he cried, \"and they rejected compromise. Even\n at the cost of lowering dividends, of taking food from the\n mouths of your wives and children, we made our generous\n offers. They were rejected with scorn. These thieves have one\n desire in mind, my friends, to starve you all, and to destroy\n your company and your jobs. To every appeal they heartlessly\n refused to divulge the key to the lock-in. And now this man—the\n ringleader who keeps the key word buried in secrecy—has\n the temerity to ask an audience with you. You're angry men;\n you want to know the man to blame for our hardship.\"\n\n\n He pointed to Towne with a flourish. \"I give you your man.\n Do what you want with him.\"\n\n\n The hall exploded in angry thunder. The first wave of men\n rushed onto the stage as Walter stood up. A tomato whizzed\n past his ear and splattered against the wall. More men clambered\n up on the stage, shouting and shaking their fists.\n\n\n Then somebody appeared with a rope.\n\n\n Walter gave a sharp nod to the side of the stage. Abruptly\n the roar of the men was drowned in another sound—a soul-rending,\n teeth-grating, bone-rattling screech. The men froze,\n jaws sagging, eyes wide, hardly believing their ears. In the\n instant of silence as the factory whistle died away, Walter\n grabbed the microphone. \"You want the code word to start\n the machines again? I'll give it to you before I sit down!\"\n\n\n The men stared at him, shuffling, a murmur rising. Torkleson\n burst to his feet. \"It's a trick!\" he howled. \"Wait 'til you\n hear their price.\"\n\n\n \"We have no price, and no demands,\" said Walter Towne.\n \"We will\ngive\nyou the code word, and we ask nothing in return\n but that you listen for sixty seconds.\" He glanced back at\n Torkleson, and then out to the crowd. \"You men here are an\n electing body—right? You own this great plant and company,\n top to bottom—right?\nYou should all be rich\n, because Robling\n could make you rich. But not one of you out there is rich.\n Only the fat ones on this stage are. But I'll tell you how\nyou\ncan be rich.\"\n\n\n They listened. Not a peep came from the huge hall. Suddenly,\n Walter Towne was talking their language.\n\n\n \"You think that since you own the company, times have\n changed. Well, have they? Are you any better off than you\n were? Of course not. Because you haven't learned yet that\n oppression by either side leads to misery for both. You haven't\n learned moderation. And you never will, until you throw out\n the ones who have fought moderation right down to the last\n ditch. You know whom I mean. You know who's grown richer\n and richer since the switchover. Throw him out, and you too\n can be rich.\" He paused for a deep breath. \"You want the code\n word to unlock the machines? All right, I'll give it to you.\"\n\n\n He swung around to point a long finger at the fat man\n sitting there. \"The code word is TORKLESON!\"\nMuch later, Walter Towne and Jeff Bates pried the trophies\n off the wall of the big office. The lawyer shook his head sadly.\n \"Pity about Dan Torkleson. Gruesome affair.\"\n\n\n Walter nodded as he struggled down with a moose head.\n \"Yes, a pity, but you know the boys when they get upset.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose so.\" The lawyer stopped to rest, panting. \"Anyway,\n with the newly elected board of directors, things will be\n different for everybody. You took a long gamble.\"\n\n\n \"Not so long. Not when you knew what they wanted to hear.\n It just took a little timing.\"\n\n\n \"Still, I didn't think they'd elect you secretary of the union.\n It just doesn't figure.\"\n\n\n Walter Towne chuckled. \"Doesn't it? I don't know. Everything's\n been a little screwy since the switchover. And in a\n screwy world like this—\" He shrugged, and tossed down the\n moose head. \"\nAnything\nfigures.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Walter Towne worried about going to work that day?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_1", "options": ["There was a lot of traffic on the Exit Strip", "He was feeling sick that day", "He didn't want to speak to Torkleson about the reports", "He didn't want a demerit from Bailey for being late"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why were the reports for the Robling company bad?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_2", "options": ["Poor production and no innovation", "Too high of union dues and insurance fees", "Too much spending by the executives", "Walter asking for too high of a salary raise"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the production line workers care about the profits of the company?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_3", "options": ["They would be fired if they did not meet a certain quota", "They received stock options and wanted higher dividends ", "They were passionate about the products that they make", "The company was on the verge of shutting down"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the managers shut the plant down for a strike?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_4", "options": ["By locking all of the workers in the plant", "By cutting the power for the plant", "By sending the production machines into feedback loops", "By locking out all of the workers"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the managers on strike need a lawyer?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_5", "options": ["To avoid injunctions by the company ", "They were being sued by the production line workers", "To handle the negative press", "To sue the executives of the company"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Walter concerned about being put on a white-list?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_6", "options": ["It meant he could not work in the industry anymore", "His salary would be decreased", "He wouldn't be eligible for dividends any longer", "He did not want to be contacted by the government"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Robling Titanium begin to sell instead of its' old products?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_7", "options": ["Jet engines", "Steel tubing", "Shotguns", "Trash cans"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was the judge glowering at Walter during the trial?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_8", "options": ["The judge was favorable towards unions and laborers", "Walter was speaking out of turn", "The judge owned stock in Robling Titanium", "Walter was at the trial earlier than he should have been"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Walter being served criminal charges at the trial?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_9", "options": ["For selling company secrets", "For disabling the company's production abilities", "For leaving the company without notice", "For committing securities fraud"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the union's lawyer not want Walter to go to jail?", "question_unique_id": "22867_TJ9SPIHC_10", "options": ["No one would be able to unlock the machines ", "The laborers were beginning to side with Walter", "The media would make the union look very bad if they did so", "They simply wanted to fire him, not imprison him"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/6/22867//22867-h//22867-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22875", "set_unique_id": "22875_L821878U", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Circus", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "Science fiction; Authors -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nThe Counterfeit Man More Science Fiction\n Stories by Alan E. Nourse\npublished in 1963. Extensive research did\n not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was\n renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected\n without note.\nCircus\n\"Just\n suppose,\" said Morgan, \"that I\ndid\nbelieve you. Just\n for argument.\" He glanced up at the man across the restaurant\n table. \"Where would we go from here?\"\n\n\n The man shifted uneasily in his seat. He was silent, staring\n down at his plate. Not a strange-looking man, Morgan thought.\n Rather ordinary, in fact. A plain face, nose a little too long,\n fingers a little too dainty, a suit that doesn't quite seem to fit,\n but all in all, a perfectly ordinary looking man.\n\n\n Maybe\ntoo\nordinary, Morgan thought.\n\n\n Finally the man looked up. His eyes were dark, with a\n hunted look in their depths that chilled Morgan a little. \"Where\n do we go? I don't know. I've tried to think it out, and I get\n nowhere. But you've\ngot\nto believe me, Morgan. I'm lost,\n I mean it. If I can't get help, I don't know where it's going to\n end.\"\n\n\n \"I'll tell you where it's going to end,\" said Morgan. \"It's\n going to end in a hospital. A mental hospital. They'll lock you\n up and they'll lose the key somewhere.\" He poured himself\n another cup of coffee and sipped it, scalding hot. \"And that,\"\n he added, \"will be that.\"\nThe place was dark and almost empty. Overhead, a rotary\n fan swished patiently. The man across from Morgan ran a hand\n through his dark hair. \"There must be some other way,\" he\n said. \"There has to be.\"\n\n\n \"All right, let's start from the beginning again,\" Morgan\n said. \"Maybe we can pin something down a little better. You\n say your name is Parks—right?\"\n\n\n The man nodded. \"Jefferson Haldeman Parks, if that helps\n any. Haldeman was my mother's maiden name.\"\n\n\n \"All right. And you got into town on Friday—right?\"\n\n\n Parks nodded.\n\n\n \"Fine. Now go through the whole story again. What happened\n first?\"\n\n\n The man thought for a minute. \"As I said, first there was\n a fall. About twenty feet. I didn't break any bones, but I was\n shaken up and limping. The fall was near the highway going\n to the George Washington Bridge. I got over to the highway\n and tried to flag down a ride.\"\n\n\n \"How did you feel? I mean, was there anything strange that\n you noticed?\"\n\n\n \"\nStrange!\n\" Parks' eyes widened. \"I—I was speechless. At\n first I hadn't noticed too much—I was concerned with the fall,\n and whether I was hurt or not. I didn't really think about much\n else until I hobbled up to that highway and saw those cars\n coming. Then I could hardly believe my eyes. I thought I was\n crazy. But a car stopped and asked me if I was going into the\n city, and I knew I wasn't crazy.\"\n\n\n Morgan's mouth took a grim line. \"You understood the\n language?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes. I don't see how I could have, but I did. We talked\n all the way into New York—nothing very important, but we\n understood each other. His speech had an odd sound, but—\"\n\n\n Morgan nodded. \"I know, I noticed. What did you do when\n you got to New York?\"\n\n\n \"Well, obviously, I needed money. I had gold coin. There\n had been no way of knowing if it would be useful, but I'd\n taken it on chance. I tried to use it at a newsstand first, and the\n man wouldn't touch it. Asked me if I thought I was the U.S.\n Treasury or something. When he saw that I was serious, he\n sent me to a money lender, a hock shop, I think he called it.\n So I found a place—\"\n\n\n \"Let me see the coins.\"\n\n\n Parks dropped two small gold discs on the table. They were\n perfectly smooth and perfectly round, tapered by wear to a\n thin blunt edge. There was no design on them, and no printing.\n Morgan looked up at the man sharply. \"What did you get for\n these?\"\n\n\n Parks shrugged. \"Too little, I suspect. Two dollars for the\n small one, five for the larger.\"\n\n\n \"You should have gone to a bank.\"\n\n\n \"I know that now. I didn't then. Naturally, I assumed that\n with everything else so similar, principles of business would\n also be similar.\"\n\n\n Morgan sighed and leaned back in his chair. \"Well, then\n what?\"\n\n\n Parks poured some more coffee. His face was very pale,\n Morgan thought, and his hands trembled as he raised the cup\n to his lips. Fright? Maybe. Hard to tell. The man put down\n the cup and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.\n \"First, I went to the mayor's office,\" he said. \"I kept trying to\n think what anyone at home would do in my place. That seemed\n a good bet. I asked a policeman where it was, and then I went\n there.\"\n\n\n \"But you didn't get to see him.\"\n\n\n \"No. I saw a secretary. She said the mayor was in conference,\n and that I would have to have an appointment. She let\n me speak to another man, one of the mayor's assistants.\"\n\n\n \"And you told him?\"\n\n\n \"No. I wanted to see the mayor himself. I thought that was\n the best thing to do. I waited for a couple of hours, until\n another assistant came along and told me flatly that the mayor\n wouldn't see me unless I stated my business first.\" He drew in\n a deep breath. \"So I stated it. And then I was gently but firmly\n ushered back into the street again.\"\n\n\n \"They didn't believe you,\" said Morgan.\n\n\n \"Not for a minute. They laughed in my face.\"\n\n\n Morgan nodded. \"I'm beginning to get the pattern. So what\n did you do next?\"\n\n\n \"Next I tried the police. I got the same treatment there,\n only they weren't so gentle. They wouldn't listen either. They\n muttered something about cranks and their crazy notions, and\n when they asked me where I lived, they thought I was—what\n did they call it?—a wise guy! Told me to get out and not come\n back with any more wild stories.\"\n\n\n \"I see,\" said Morgan.\n\n\n Jefferson Parks finished his last bite of pie and pushed the\n plate away. \"By then I didn't know quite what to do. I'd been\n prepared for almost anything excepting this. It was frightening.\n I tried to rationalize it, and then I quit trying. It wasn't\n that I attracted attention, or anything like that, quite the contrary.\n Nobody even looked at me, unless I said something to\n them. I began to look for things that were\ndifferent\n, things that\n I could show them, and say, see, this proves that I'm telling\n the truth, look at it—\" He looked up helplessly.\n\n\n \"And what did you find?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing. Oh, little things, insignificant little things. Your\n calendars, for instance. Naturally, I couldn't understand your\n frame of reference. And the coinage, you stamp your coins; we\n don't. And cigarettes. We don't have any such thing as tobacco.\"\n The man gave a short laugh. \"And your house dogs!\n We have little animals that look more like rabbits than poodles.\n But there was nothing any more significant than that. Absolutely\n nothing.\"\n\n\n \"Except yourself,\" Morgan said.\n\n\n \"Ah, yes. I thought that over carefully. I looked for differences,\n obvious ones. I couldn't find any. You can see that, just\n looking at me. So I searched for more subtle things. Skin texture,\n fingerprints, bone structure, body proportion. I still\n couldn't find anything. Then I went to a doctor.\"\n\n\n Morgan's eyebrows lifted. \"Good,\" he said.\n\n\n Parks shrugged tiredly. \"Not really. He examined me. He\n practically took me apart. I carefully refrained from saying\n anything about who I was or where I came from; just said\n I wanted a complete physical examination, and let him go\n to it. He was thorough, and when he finished he patted me\n on the back and said, 'Parks, you've got nothing to worry\n about. You're as fine, strapping a specimen of a healthy human\n being as I've ever seen.' And that was that.\" Parks laughed\n bitterly. \"I guess I was supposed to be happy with the verdict,\n and instead I was ready to knock him down. It was idiotic, it\n defied reason, it was infuriating.\"\n\n\n Morgan nodded sourly. \"Because you're not a human\n being,\" he said.\n\n\n \"That's right. I'm not a human being at all.\"\n\"How did you happen to pick this planet, or this sun?\"\n Morgan asked curiously. \"There must have been a million\n others to choose from.\"\n\n\n Parks unbuttoned his collar and rubbed his stubbled chin\n unhappily. \"I didn't make the choice. Neither did anyone else.\n Travel by warp is a little different from travel by the rocket\n you fiction writers make so much of. With a rocket vehicle you\n pick your destination, make your calculations, and off you go.\n The warp is blind flying, strictly blind. We send an unmanned\n scanner ahead. It probes around more or less hit-or-miss until\n it locates something, somewhere, that looks habitable. When\n it spots a likely looking place, we keep a tight beam on it\n and send through a manned scout.\" He grinned sourly. \"Like\n me. If it looks good to the scout, he signals back, and they\n leave the warp anchored for a sort of permanent gateway until\n we can get a transport beam built. But we can't control the\n directional and dimensional scope of the warp. There are an\n infinity of ways it can go, until we have a guide beam transmitting\n from the other side. Then we can just scan a segment of\n space with the warp, and the scanner picks up the beam.\"\n\n\n He shook his head wearily. \"We're new at it, Morgan. We've\n only tried a few dozen runs. We're not too far ahead of you in\n technology. We've been using rocket vehicles just like yours for\n over a century. That's fine for a solar system, but it's not much\n good for the stars. When the warp principle was discovered, it\n looked like the answer. But something went wrong, the scanner\n picked up this planet, and I was coming through, and then\n something blew. Next thing I knew I was falling. When I tried\n to make contact again, the scanner was gone!\"\n\n\n \"And you found things here the same as back home,\" said\n Morgan.\n\n\n \"The same! Your planet and mine are practically twins.\n Similar cities, similar technology, everything. The people are\n the same, with precisely the same anatomy and physiology, the\n same sort of laws, the same institutions, even compatible languages.\n Can't you see the importance of it? This planet is on\n the other side of the universe from mine, with the first intelligent\n life we've yet encountered anywhere. But when I try to\n tell your people that I'm a native of another star system,\nthey\n won't believe me\n!\"\n\n\n \"Why should they?\" asked Morgan. \"You look like a human\n being. You talk like one. You eat like one. You act like one.\n What you're asking them to believe is utterly incredible.\"\n\n\n \"\nBut it's true.\n\"\n\n\n Morgan shrugged. \"So it's true. I won't argue with you. But\n as I asked before, even if I\ndid\nbelieve you, what do you\n expect\nme\nto do about it? Why pick\nme\n, of all the people you've\n seen?\"\n\n\n There was a desperate light in Parks' eyes. \"I was tired, tired\n of being laughed at, tired of having people looking at me as\n though I'd lost my wits when I tried to tell them the truth.\n You were here, you were alone, so I started talking. And then\n I found out you wrote stories.\" He looked up eagerly. \"I've\n got to get back, Morgan, somehow. My life is there, my family.\n And think what it would mean to both of our worlds—contact\n with another intelligent race! Combine our knowledges,\n our technologies, and we could explore the galaxy!\"\n\n\n He leaned forward, his thin face intense. \"I need money and\n I need help. I know some of the mathematics of the warp principle,\n know some of the design, some of the power and wiring\n principles. You have engineers here, technologists, physicists.\n They could fill in what I don't know and build a guide beam.\n But they won't do it if they don't believe me. Your government\n won't listen to me, they won't appropriate any money.\"\n\n\n \"Of course they won't. They've got a war or two on their\n hands, they have public welfare, and atomic bombs, and\n rockets to the moon to sink their money into.\" Morgan stared\n at the man. \"But what can\nI\ndo?\"\n\n\n \"You can\nwrite\n! That's what you can do. You can tell the\n world about me, you can tell exactly what has happened. I\n know how public interest can be aroused in my world. It must\n be the same in yours.\"\n\n\n Morgan didn't move. He just stared. \"How many people\n have you talked to?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"A dozen, a hundred, maybe a thousand.\"\n\n\n \"And how many believed you?\"\n\n\n \"None.\"\n\n\n \"You mean\nnobody\nwould believe you?\"\n\n\n \"\nNot one soul.\nUntil I talked to you.\"\n\n\n And then Morgan was laughing, laughing bitterly, tears\n rolling down his cheeks. \"And I'm the one man who couldn't\n help you if my life depended on it,\" he gasped.\n\n\n \"You believe me?\"\n\n\n Morgan nodded sadly. \"I believe you. Yes. I think your\n warp brought you through to a parallel universe of your own\n planet, not to another star, but I think you're telling the truth.\"\n\n\n \"Then you\ncan\nhelp me.\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid not.\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"Because I'd be worse than no help at all.\"\n\n\n Jefferson Parks gripped the table, his knuckles white.\n \"Why?\" he cried hoarsely. \"If you believe me, why can't you\n help me?\"\n\n\n Morgan pointed to the magazine lying on the table. \"I write,\n yes,\" he said sadly. \"Ever read stories like this before?\"\n\n\n Parks picked up the magazine, glanced at the bright cover.\n \"I barely looked at it.\"\n\n\n \"You should look more closely. I have a story in this issue.\n The readers thought it was very interesting,\" Morgan grinned.\n \"Go ahead, look at it.\"\n\n\n The stranger from the stars leafed through the magazine,\n stopped at a page that carried Roger Morgan's name. His eyes\n caught the first paragraph and he turned white. He set the\n magazine down with a trembling hand. \"I see,\" he said, and\n the life was gone out of his voice. He spread the pages viciously,\n read the lines again.\n\n\n The paragraph said:\n\n\n \"Just suppose,\" said Martin, \"that I\ndid\nbelieve you. Just\n for argument.\" He glanced up at the man across the table.\n \"Where do we go from here?\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why won't people believe that Parks' is an extraterrestrial?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_1", "options": ["He has too good of a disguise", "He refuses to provide any proof besides his work", "He has a head injury ", "He looks and sounds like a human"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the people at the mayor's office and Police station laugh at Parks?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_2", "options": ["He claimed he was an extra-terrestrial", "He waited for hours to speak to someome", "He had inhuman like features", "He wouldn't tell them where he lived"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was a Dr. able to examine Parks without being suspicious?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_3", "options": ["The Dr. was not trained very well", "Parks used a special technique to confuse and manipulate the Dr.", "The anatomy of the beings on Parks' planet was almost identical to humans", "Parks had too strong of a disguise"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Parks stuck on Earth?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_4", "options": ["He is outlawed on his own planet", "He must to finish his mission before his is allowed to leave", "The warp beacon blew up", "His rocket ship blew up"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where does Morgan think Parks came from?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_5", "options": ["This planet, he is just insane", "The future", "Another planet in space", "Another dimension"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why can Morgan not help spread Parks' story?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_6", "options": ["Morgan is considered insane and no one would trust him", "Morgan is retired from writing and refuses to start again", "Morgan authored a story with the exact same premise", "Morgan is not qualified enough to speak on the subject"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Morgan assume when he thought that principles of business would be the same in both worlds?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_7", "options": ["That he would be able to start a business without any issues", "That he would be able to get a newspaper for free", "That his money would be good in this world", "That he could negotiate the price of items at the store"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Parks end up on Morgan's planet?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_8", "options": ["He was sent on a scouting mission", "He was sent on a rescue mission", "His rocket crashed there", "He was kidnapped"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Parks want to speak with Morgan?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_9", "options": ["Morgan had enough knowledge to help Parks build a beacon", "Parks found Morgan by pure chance", "Morgan had enough money to help Parks build a ship", "Morgan could write Parks' story and spread it for him"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Morgan think that Parks' world was an alternate reality version of his own?", "question_unique_id": "22875_L821878U_10", "options": ["Parks told him that this was the case", "Parks looked too different from regular humans to be from his own world", "There were too many similarities between the worlds and societies on them", "The government let Morgan know that this was true"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/7/22875//22875-h//22875-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22876", "set_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Link", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "PS; Short stories; Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nThe Counterfeit Man More Science Fiction\n Stories by Alan E. Nourse\npublished in 1963. Extensive research did\n not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was\n renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected\n without note.\nThe\n\n Link\nIt\n was nearly sundown when Ravdin eased the ship down\n into the last slow arc toward the Earth's surface. Stretching\n his arms and legs, he tried to relax and ease the tension in\n his tired muscles. Carefully, he tightened the seat belt for\n landing; below him he could see the vast, tangled expanse of\n Jungle-land spreading out to the horizon. Miles ahead was the\n bright circle of the landing field and the sparkling glow of the\n city beyond. Ravdin peered to the north of the city, hoping to\n catch a glimpse of the concert before his ship was swallowed\n by the brilliant landing lights.\n\n\n A bell chimed softly in his ear. Ravdin forced his attention\n back to the landing operation. He was still numb and shaken\n from the Warp-passage, his mind still muddled by the abrupt\n and incredible change. Moments before, the sky had been a\n vast, starry blanket of black velvet; then, abruptly, he had\n been hovering over the city, sliding down toward warm\n friendly lights and music. He checked the proper switches, and\n felt the throbbing purr of the anti-grav motors as the ship slid\n in toward the landing slot. Tall spires of other ships rose to\n meet him, circle upon circle of silver needles pointing skyward.\n A little later they were blotted out as the ship was grappled\n into the berth from which it had risen days before.\n\n\n With a sigh, Ravdin eased himself out of the seat, his heart\n pounding with excitement. Perhaps, he thought, he was too\n excited, too eager to be home, for his mind was still reeling\n from the fearful discovery of his journey.\n\n\n The station was completely empty as Ravdin walked down\n the ramp to the shuttles. At the desk he checked in with the\n shiny punch-card robot, and walked swiftly across the polished\n floor. The wall panels pulsed a somber blue-green,\n broken sharply by brilliant flashes and overtones of scarlet,\n reflecting with subtle accuracy the tumult in his own mind.\n Not a sound was in the air, not a whisper nor sign of human\n habitation. Vaguely, uneasiness grew in his mind as he entered\n the shuttle station. Suddenly, the music caught him, a long,\n low chord of indescribable beauty, rising and falling in the\n wind, a distant whisper of life....\n\n\n The concert, of course. Everyone would be at the concert\n tonight, and even from two miles away, the beauty of\n four hundred perfectly harmonized voices was carried on\n the breeze. Ravdin's uneasiness disappeared; he was eager to\n discharge his horrible news, get it off his mind and join the\n others in the great amphitheater set deep in the hillside outside\n the city. But he knew instinctively that Lord Nehmon,\n anticipating his return, would not be at the concert.\n\n\n Riding the shuttle over the edges of Jungle-land toward the\n shining bright beauty of the city, Ravdin settled back, trying\n to clear his mind of the shock and horror he had encountered\n on his journey. The curves and spires of glowing plastic passed\n him, lighted with a million hues. He realized that his whole\n life was entangled in the very beauty of this wonderful city.\n Everything he had ever hoped or dreamed lay sheltered here\n in the ever-changing rhythm of colors and shapes and sounds.\n And now, he knew, he would soon see his beloved city burning\n once again, turning to flames and ashes in a heart-breaking\n memorial to the age-old fear of his people.\n\n\n The little shuttle-car settled down softly on the green terrace\n near the center of the city. The building was a masterpiece\n of smoothly curving walls and tasteful lines, opening a\n full side to the south to catch the soft sunlight and warm\n breezes. Ravdin strode across the deep carpeting of the terrace.\n There was other music here, different music, a wilder,\n more intimate fantasy of whirling sound. An oval door opened\n for him, and he stopped short, staggered for a moment by the\n overpowering beauty in the vaulted room.\n\n\n A girl with red hair the color of new flame was dancing\n with enthralling beauty and abandon, her body moving like\n ripples of wind to the music which filled the room with its\n throbbing cry. Her beauty was exquisite, every motion, every\n flowing turn a symphony of flawless perfection as she danced\n to the wild music.\n\n\n \"Lord Nehmon!\"\n\n\n The dancer threw back her head sharply, eyes wide, her\n body frozen in mid-air, and then, abruptly, she was gone, leaving\n only the barest flickering image of her fiery hair. The\n music slowed, singing softly, and Ravdin could see the old\n man waiting in the room. Nehmon rose, his gaunt face and\n graying hair belying the youthful movement of his body. Smiling,\n he came forward, clapped Ravdin on the shoulder, and\n took his hand warmly. \"You're too late for the concert—it's\n a shame. Mischana is the master tonight, and the whole city\n is there.\"\n\n\n Ravdin's throat tightened as he tried to smile. \"I had to\n let you know,\" he said. \"\nThey're coming\n, Nehmon! I saw\n them, hours ago.\"\n\n\n The last overtones of the music broke abruptly, like a glass\n shattered on stone. The room was deathly still. Lord Nehmon\n searched the young man's face. Then he turned away, not quite\n concealing the sadness and pain in his eyes. \"You're certain?\n You couldn't be mistaken?\"\n\n\n \"No chance. I found signs of their passing in a dozen places.\n Then I saw\nthem\n, their whole fleet. There were hundreds.\n They're coming, I saw them.\"\n\n\n \"Did they see you?\" Nehmon's voice was sharp.\n\n\n \"No, no. The Warp is a wonderful thing. With it I could\n come and go in the twinkling of an eye. But I could see them\n in the twinkling of an eye.\"\n\n\n \"And it couldn't have been anyone else?\"\n\n\n \"Could anyone else build ships like the Hunters?\"\n\n\n Nehmon sighed wearily. \"No one that we know.\" He\n glanced up at the young man. \"Sit down, son, sit down. I—I'll\n just have to rearrange my thinking a little. Where were\n they? How far?\"\n\n\n \"Seven light years,\" Ravdin said. \"Can you imagine it?\n Just seven, and moving straight this way.\nThey know where\n we are\n, and they are coming quickly.\" His eyes filled with\n fear. \"They\ncouldn't\nhave found us so soon, unless they too\n have discovered the Warp and how to use it to travel.\"\n\n\n The older man's breath cut off sharply, and there was real\n alarm in his eyes. \"You're right,\" he said softly. \"Six months\n ago it was eight hundred light years away, in an area completely\n remote from us. Now just\nseven\n. In six months they\n have come so close.\"\n\n\n The scout looked up at Nehmon in desperation. \"But what\n can we do? We have only weeks, maybe days, before they're\n here. We have no time to plan, no time to prepare for them.\n What can we do?\"\n\n\n The room was silent. Finally the aged leader stood up,\n wearily, some fraction of his six hundred years of life showing\n in his face for the first time in centuries. \"We can do once\n again what we always have done before when the Hunters\n came,\" he said sadly. \"We can run away.\"\nThe bright street below the oval window was empty and\n quiet. Not a breath of air stirred in the city. Ravdin stared out\n in bitter silence. \"Yes, we can run away. Just as we always\n have before. After we have worked so hard, accomplished so\n much here, we must burn the city and flee again.\" His voice\n trailed off to silence. He stared at Nehmon, seeking in the old\n man's face some answer, some reassurance. But he found no\n answer there, only sadness. \"Think of the concerts. It's taken\n so long, but at last we've come so close to the ultimate goal.\"\n He gestured toward the thought-sensitive sounding boards lining\n the walls, the panels which had made the dancer-illusion\n possible. \"Think of the beauty and peace we've found here.\"\n\n\n \"I know. How well I know.\"\n\n\n \"Yet now the Hunters come again, and again we must run\n away.\" Ravdin stared at the old man, his eyes suddenly bright.\n \"Nehmon, when I saw those ships I began thinking.\"\n\n\n \"I've spent many years thinking, my son.\"\n\n\n \"Not what I've been thinking.\" Ravdin sat down, clasping\n his hands in excitement. \"The Hunters come and we run away,\n Nehmon. Think about that for a moment. We run, and we run,\n and we run. From what? We run from the Hunters. They're\n hunting\nus\n, these Hunters. They've never quite found us, because\n we've always already run. We're clever, we're fortunate,\n and we have a way of life that they do not, so whenever they\n have come close to finding us, we have run.\"\n\n\n Nehmon nodded slowly. \"For thousands of years.\"\n\n\n Ravdin's eyes were bright. \"Yes, we flee, we cringe, we hide\n under stones, we break up our lives and uproot our families,\n running like frightened animals in the shadows of night and\n secrecy.\" He gulped a breath, and his eyes sought Nehmon's\n angrily. \"\nWhy do we run, my lord?\n\"\n\n\n Nehmon's eyes widened. \"Because we have no choice,\" he\n said. \"We must run or be killed. You know that. You've seen\n the records, you've been taught.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes, I know what I've been taught. I've been taught\n that eons ago our remote ancestors fought the Hunters, and\n lost, and fled, and were pursued. But why do we keep running?\n Time after time we've been cornered, and we've turned and\n fled.\nWhy?\nEven animals know that when they're cornered\n they must turn and fight.\"\n\n\n \"We are not animals.\" Nehmon's voice cut the air like a\n whiplash.\n\n\n \"But we could fight.\"\n\n\n \"Animals fight. We do not. We fought once, like animals,\n and now we must run from the Hunters who continue to fight\n like animals. So be it. Let the Hunters fight.\"\n\n\n Ravdin shook his head. \"Do you mean that the Hunters are\n not men like us?\" he said. \"That's what you're saying, that\n they are animals. All right. We kill animals for our food, isn't\n that true? We kill the tiger-beasts in the Jungle to protect\n ourselves, why not kill the Hunters to protect ourselves?\"\n\n\n Nehmon sighed, and reached out a hand to the young man.\n \"I'm sorry,\" he said gently. \"It seems logical, but it's false\n logic. The Hunters are men just like you and me. Their lives\n are different, their culture is different, but they are men. And\n human life is sacred, to us, above all else. This is the fundamental\n basis of our very existence. Without it we would be\n Hunters, too. If we fight, we are dead even if we live. That's\n why we must run away now, and always. Because we know\n that we must not kill men.\"\nOn the street below, the night air was suddenly full of\n voices, chattering, intermingled with whispers of song and occasional\n brief harmonic flutterings. The footfalls were muted\n on the polished pavement as the people passed slowly, their\n voices carrying a hint of puzzled uneasiness.\n\n\n \"The concert's over!\" Ravdin walked to the window, feeling\n a chill pass through him. \"So soon, I wonder why?\" Eagerly\n he searched the faces passing in the street for Dana's face,\n sensing the lurking discord in the quiet talk of the crowd. Suddenly\n the sound-boards in the room tinkled a carillon of ruby\n tones in his ear, and she was in the room, rushing into his arms\n with a happy cry, pressing her soft cheek to his rough chin.\n \"You're back! Oh, I'm so glad, so very glad!\" She turned to\n the old man. \"Nehmon, what has happened? The concert was\n ruined tonight. There was something in the air, everybody felt\n it. For some reason the people seemed\nafraid\n.\"\n\n\n Ravdin turned away from his bride. \"Tell her,\" he said to\n the old man.\n\n\n Dana looked at them, her gray eyes widening in horror.\n \"The Hunters! They've found us?\"\n\n\n Ravdin nodded wordlessly.\n\n\n Her hands trembled as she sat down, and there were tears\n in her eyes. \"We came so close tonight, so very close. I\nfelt\nthe music before it was sung, do you realize that? I\nfelt\nthe\n fear around me, even though no one said a word. It wasn't\n vague or fuzzy, it was\nclear\n! The transference was perfect.\"\n She turned to face the old man. \"It's taken so long to come\n this far, Nehmon. So much work, so much training to reach a\n perfect communal concert. We've had only two hundred years\n here, only\ntwo hundred\n! I was just a little girl when we came,\n I can't even remember before that. Before we came here we\n were undisturbed for a thousand years, and before that, four\n thousand. But\ntwo hundred\n—we\ncan't\nleave now. Not when\n we've come so far.\"\n\n\n Ravdin nodded. \"That's the trouble. They come closer every\n time. This time they will catch us. Or the next time, or the\n next. And that will be the end of everything for us, unless we\n fight them.\" He paused, watching the last groups dispersing on\n the street below. \"If we only knew, for certain, what we were\n running from.\"\n\n\n There was a startled silence. The girl's breath came in a\n gasp and her eyes widened as his words sank home. \"Ravdin,\"\n she said softly, \"\nhave you ever seen a Hunter\n?\"\n\n\n Ravdin stared at her, and felt a chill of excitement. Music\n burst from the sounding-board, odd, wild music, suddenly\n hopeful. \"No,\" he said, \"no, of course not. You know that.\"\n\n\n The girl rose from her seat. \"Nor have I. Never, not once.\"\n She turned to Lord Nehmon. \"Have\nyou\n?\"\n\n\n \"Never.\" The old man's voice was harsh.\n\n\n \"Has\nanyone\never seen a Hunter?\"\n\n\n Ravdin's hand trembled. \"I—I don't know. None of us living\n now, no. It's been too long since they last actually found\n us. I've read—oh, I can't remember. I think my grandfather\n saw them, or my great-grandfather, somewhere back there.\n It's been thousands of years.\"\n\n\n \"Yet we've been tearing ourselves up by the roots, fleeing\n from planet to planet, running and dying and still running.\n But suppose we don't need to run anymore?\"\n\n\n He stared at her. \"They keep coming. They keep searching\n for us. What more proof do you need?\"\n\n\n Dana's face glowed with excitement, alive with new vitality,\n new hope. \"Ravdin, can't you see?\nThey might have changed.\nThey might not be the same. Things can happen. Look at us,\n how we've grown since the wars with the Hunters. Think how\n our philosophy and culture have matured! Oh, Ravdin, you\n were to be master at a concert next month. Think how the concerts\n have changed! Even my grandmother can remember\n when the concerts were just a few performers playing, and\n everyone else just sitting and\nlistening\n! Can you imagine anything\n more silly? They hadn't even thought of transference\n then, they never dreamed what a\nreal\nconcert could be! Why,\n those people had never begun to understand music until they\n themselves became a part of it. Even we can see these changes,\n why couldn't the Hunters have grown and changed just as\n we have?\"\n\n\n Nehmon's voice broke in, almost harshly, as he faced the\n excited pair. \"The Hunters don't have concerts,\" he said\n grimly. \"You're deluding yourself, Dana. They laugh at our\n music, they scoff at our arts and twist them into obscene\n mockeries. They have no concept of beauty in their language.\n The Hunters are incapable of change.\"\n\n\n \"And you can be certain of that when\nnobody has seen\n them for thousands of years\n?\"\n\n\n Nehmon met her steady eyes, read the strength and determination\n there. He knew, despairingly, what she was thinking—that\n he was old, that he couldn't understand, that his\n mind was channeled now beyond the approach of wisdom.\n \"You mustn't think what you're thinking,\" he said weakly.\n \"You'd be blind. You wouldn't know, you couldn't have any\n idea what you would find. If you tried to contact them, you\n could be lost completely, tortured, killed. If they haven't\n changed, you wouldn't stand a chance. You'd never come\n back, Dana.\"\n\n\n \"But she's right all the same,\" Ravdin said softly. \"You're\n wrong, my lord. We can't continue this way if we're to survive.\n Sometime our people must contact them, find the link that\n was once between us, and forge it strong again. We could do\n it, Dana and I.\"\n\n\n \"I could forbid you to go.\"\n\n\n Dana looked at her husband, and her eyes were proud.\n \"You could forbid us,\" she said, facing the old man. \"But\n you could never stop us.\"\nAt the edge of the Jungle-land a great beast stood with\n green-gleaming eyes, licking his fanged jaws as he watched the\n glowing city, sensing somehow that the mystifying circle of\n light and motion was soon to become his Jungle-land again.\n In the city the turmoil bubbled over, as wave after wave of\n the people made the short safari across the intervening jungle\n to the circles of their ships. Husbands, wives, fathers, mothers—all\n carried their small, frail remembrances out to the ships.\n There was music among them still, but it was a different sort\n of music, now, an eerie, hopeless music that drifted out of the\n city in the wind. It caused all but the bravest of the beasts,\n their hair prickling on their backs, to run in panic through\n the jungle darkness. It was a melancholy music, carried from\n thought to thought, from voice to voice as the people of the\n city wearily prepared themselves once again for the long\n journey.\n\n\n To run away. In the darkness of secrecy, to be gone, without\n a trace, without symbol or vestige of their presence, leaving\n only the scorched circle of land for the jungle to reclaim,\n so that no eyes, not even the sharpest, would ever know how\n long they had stayed, nor where they might have gone.\n\n\n In the rounded room of his house, Lord Nehmon dispatched\n the last of his belongings, a few remembrances, nothing more,\n because the space on the ships must take people, not remembrances,\n and he knew that the remembrances would bring only\n pain. All day Nehmon had supervised the loading, the intricate\n preparation, following plans laid down millennia before.\n He saw the libraries and records transported, mile upon endless\n mile of microfilm, carted to the ships prepared to carry\n them, stored until a new resting place was found. The history\n of a people was recorded on that film, a people once proud and\n strong, now equally proud, but dwindling in numbers as toll\n for the constant roving. A proud people, yet a people who\n would turn and run without thought, in a panic of age-old\n fear. They\nhad\nto run, Nehmon knew, if they were to survive.\n\n\n And with a blaze of anger in his heart, he almost hated the\n two young people waiting here with him for the last ship to be\n filled. For these two would not go.\n\n\n It had been a long and painful night. He had pleaded and\n begged, tried to persuade them that there was no hope, that\n the very idea of remaining behind or trying to contact the\n Hunters was insane. Yet he knew\nthey\nwere sane, perhaps unwise,\n naive, but their decision had been reached, and they\n would not be shaken.\n\n\n The day was almost gone as the last ships began to fill.\n Nehmon turned to Ravdin and Dana, his face lined and tired.\n \"You'll have to go soon,\" he said. \"The city will be burned,\n of course, as always. You'll be left with food, and with weapons\n against the jungle. The Hunters will know that we've been\n here, but they'll not know when, nor where we have gone.\"\n He paused. \"It will be up to you to see that they don't learn.\"\n\n\n Dana shook her head. \"We'll tell them nothing, unless it's\n safe for them to know.\"\n\n\n \"They'll question you, even torture you.\"\n\n\n She smiled calmly. \"Perhaps they won't. But as a last resort,\n we can blank out.\"\n\n\n Nehmon's face went white. \"You know there is no coming\n back, once you do that. You would never regain your memory.\n You must save it for a last resort.\"\n\n\n Down below on the street the last groups of people were\n passing; the last sweet, eerie tones of the concert were rising\n in the gathering twilight. Soon the last families would have\n taken their refuge in the ships, waiting for Nehmon to trigger\n the fire bombs to ignite the beautiful city after the ships\n started on their voyage. The concerts were over; there would\n be long years of aimless wandering before another home could\n be found, another planet safe from the Hunters and their ships.\n Even then it would be more years before the concerts could\n again rise from their hearts and throats and minds, generations\n before they could begin work again toward the climactic expression\n of their heritage.\n\n\n Ravdin felt the desolation in the people's minds, saw the\n utter hopelessness in the old man's face, and suddenly felt the\n pressure of despair. It was such a slender hope, so frail and\n so dangerous. He knew of the terrible fight, the war of his\n people against the Hunters, so many thousand years before.\n They had risen together, a common people, their home a single\n planet. And then, the gradual splitting of the nations, his own\n people living in peace, seeking the growth and beauty of the\n arts, despising the bitterness and barrenness of hatred and killing—and\n the Hunters, under an iron heel of militarism, of\n government for the perpetuation of government, split farther\n and farther from them. It was an ever-widening split as the\n Hunters sneered and ridiculed, and then grew to hate Ravdin's\n people for all the things the Hunters were losing: peace, love,\n happiness. Ravdin knew of his people's slowly dawning awareness\n of the sanctity of life, shattered abruptly by the horrible\n wars, and then the centuries of fear and flight, hiding from the\n wrath of the Hunters' vengeance. His people had learned much\n in those long years. They had conquered disease. They had\n grown in strength as they dwindled in numbers. But now the\n end could be seen, crystal clear, the end of his people and a\n ghastly grave.\n\n\n Nehmon's voice broke the silence. \"If you must stay behind,\n then go now. The city will burn an hour after the\n count-down.\"\n\n\n \"We will be safe, outside the city.\" Dana gripped her husband's\n hand, trying to transmit to him some part of her\n strength and confidence. \"Wish us the best, Nehmon. If a link\n can be forged, we will forge it.\"\n\n\n \"I wish you the best in everything.\" There were tears in the\n old man's eyes as he turned and left the room.\nThey stood in the Jungle-land, listening to the scurry of\n frightened animals, and shivering in the cool night air as the\n bright sparks of the ships' exhausts faded into the black starry\n sky. A man and a woman alone, speechless, watching, staring\n with awful longing into the skies as the bright rocket jets\n dwindled to specks and flickered out.\n\n\n The city burned. Purple spumes of flame shot high into the\n air, throwing a ghastly light on the frightened Jungle-land.\n Spires of flame seemed to be seeking the stars with their fingers\n as the plastic walls and streets of the city hissed and shriveled,\n blackening, bubbling into a vanishing memory before\n their eyes. The flames shot high, carrying with them the last\n remnants of the city which had stood proud and tall an hour\n before. Then a silence fell, deathly, like the lifeless silence of\n a grave. Out of the silence, little whispering sounds of the\n Jungle-land crept to their ears, first frightened, then curious,\n then bolder and bolder as the wisps of grass and little animals\n ventured out and out toward the clearing where the city had\n stood. Bit by bit the Jungle-land gathered courage, and the\n clearing slowly, silently, began to disappear.\n\n\n Days later new sparks of light appeared in the black sky.\n They grew to larger specks, then to flares, and finally settled\n to the earth as powerful, flaming jets.\n\n\n They were squat, misshapen vessels, circling down like vultures,\n hissing, screeching, landing with a grinding crash in the\n tall thicket near the place where the city had stood. Ravdin's\n signal had guided them in, and the Hunters had seen them,\n standing on a hilltop above the demolished amphitheater.\n Men had come out of the ships, large men with cold faces and\n dull eyes, weapons strapped to their trim uniforms. The Hunters\n had blinked at them, unbelieving, with their weapons held\n at ready. Ravdin and Dana were seized and led to the\n flagship.\n\n\n As they approached it, their hearts sank and they clasped\n hands to bolster their failing hope.\n\n\n The leader of the Hunters looked up from his desk as they\n were thrust into his cabin. Frankle's face was a graven mask\n as he searched their faces dispassionately. The captives were\n pale and seemed to cringe from the pale interrogation light.\n \"Chickens!\" the Hunter snorted. \"We have been hunting down\n chickens.\" His eyes turned to one of the guards. \"They have\n been searched?\"\n\n\n \"Of course, master.\"\n\n\n \"And questioned?\"\n\n\n The guard frowned. \"Yes, sir. But their language is almost\n unintelligible.\"\n\n\n \"You've studied the basic tongues, haven't you?\" Frankle's\n voice was as cold as his eyes.\n\n\n \"Of course, sir, but this is so different.\"\n\n\n Frankle stared in contempt at the fair-skinned captives, fixing\n his eyes on them for a long moment. Finally he said,\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n Ravdin glanced briefly at Dana's white face. His voice\n seemed weak and high-pitched in comparison to the Hunter's\n baritone. \"You are the leader of the Hunters?\"\n\n\n Frankle regarded him sourly, without replying. His thin\n face was swarthy, his short-cut gray hair matching the cold\n gray of his eyes. It was an odd face, completely blank of any\n thought or emotion, yet capable of shifting to a strange biting\n slyness in the briefest instant. It was a rich face, a face of\n inscrutable depth. He pushed his chair back, his eyes watchful.\n \"We know your people were here,\" he said suddenly. \"Now\n they've gone, and yet you remain behind. There must be a\n reason for such rashness. Are you sick? Crippled?\"\n\n\n Ravdin shook his head. \"We are not sick.\"\n\n\n \"Then criminals, perhaps? Being punished for rebellious\n plots?\"\n\n\n \"We are not criminals.\"\n\n\n The Hunter's fist crashed on the desk. \"Then why are you\n here?\nWhy?\nAre you going to tell me now, or do you propose\n to waste a few hours of my time first?\"\n\n\n \"There is no mystery,\" Ravdin said softly. \"We stayed behind\n to plead for peace.\"\n\n\n \"For peace?\" Frankle stared in disbelief. Then he shrugged,\n his face tired. \"I might have known. Peace! Where have your\n people gone?\"\n\n\n Ravdin met him eye for eye. \"I can't say.\"\n\n\n The Hunter laughed. \"Let's be precise, you don't\nchoose\nto\n say, just now. But perhaps very soon you will wish with all\n your heart to tell me.\"\n\n\n Dana's voice was sharp. \"We're telling you the truth. We\n want peace, nothing more. This constant hunting and running\n is senseless, exhausting to both of us. We want to make peace\n with you, to bring our people together again.\"\n\n\n Frankle snorted. \"You came to us in war, once, long ago.\n Now you want peace. What would you do, clasp us to your\n bosom, smother us in your idiotic music? Or have you gone on\n to greater things?\"\n\n\n Ravdin's face flushed hotly. \"Much greater things,\" he\n snapped.\n\n\n Frankle sat down slowly. \"No doubt,\" he said. \"Now understand\n me clearly. Very soon you will be killed. How quickly\n or slowly you die will depend largely upon the civility of your\n tongues. A civil tongue answers questions with the right answers.\n That is my definition of a civil tongue.\" He sat back\n coldly. \"Now, shall we commence asking questions?\"\n\n\n Dana stepped forward suddenly, her cheeks flushed. \"We\n don't have the words to express ourselves,\" she said softly.\n \"We can't tell you in words what we have to say, but music\n is a language even you can understand. We can tell you what\n we want in music.\"\n\n\n Frankle scowled. He knew about the magic of this music,\n he had heard of the witchcraft these weak chicken-people\n could weave, of their strange, magic power to steal strong\n men's minds from them and make them like children before\n wolves. But he had never heard this music with his own ears.\n He looked at them, his eyes strangely bright. \"You know I\n cannot listen to your music. It is forbidden, even you should\n know that. How dare you propose—\"\n\n\n \"But this is different music.\" Dana's eyes widened, and she\n threw an excited glance at her husband. \"Our music is beautiful,\n wonderful to hear. If you could only hear it—\"\n\n\n \"Never.\" The man hesitated. \"Your music is forbidden,\n poisonous.\"\n\n\n Her smile was like sweet wine, a smile that worked into the\n Hunter's mind like a gentle, lazy drug. \"But who is to permit\n or forbid? After all, you are the leader here, and forbidden\n pleasures are all the sweeter.\"\n\n\n Frankle's eyes were on hers, fascinated. Slowly, with a\n graceful movement, she drew the gleaming thought-sensitive\n stone from her clothing. It glowed in the room with a pearly\n luminescence, and she saw the man's eyes turning to it, drawn\n as if by magic. Then he looked away, and a cruel smile curled\n his lips. He motioned toward the stone. \"All right,\" he said\n mockingly. \"Do your worst. Show me your precious music.\"\n\n\n Like a tinkle of glass breaking in a well, the stone flashed\n its fiery light in the room. Little swirls of music seemed to swell\n from it, blossoming in the silence. Frankle tensed, a chill running\n up his spine, his eyes drawn back to the gleaming jewel.\n Suddenly, the music filled the room, rising sweetly like an\n overpowering wave, filling his mind with strange and wonderful\n images. The stone shimmered and changed, taking the\n form of dancing clouds of light, swirling with the music as it\n rose. Frankle felt his mind groping toward the music, trying\n desperately to reach into the heart of it, to become part of it.\n\n\n Ravdin and Dana stood there, trancelike, staring transfixed\n at the gleaming center of light, forcing their joined minds to\n create the crashing, majestic chords as the song lifted from the\n depths of oblivion to the heights of glory in the old, old song\n of their people.\n\n\n A song of majesty, and strength, and dignity. A song of\n love, of aspiration, a song of achievement. A song of peoples\n driven by ancient fears across the eons of space, seeking only\n peace, even peace with those who drove them.\n\n\n Frankle heard the music, and could not comprehend, for\n his mind could not grasp the meaning, the true overtones of\n those glorious chords, but he felt the strangeness in the pangs\n of fear which groped through his mind, cringing from the wonderful\n strains, dazzled by the dancing light. He stared wide-eyed\n and trembling at the couple across the room, and for an\n instant it seemed that he was stripped naked. For a fleeting moment\n the authority was gone from his face; gone too was the\n cruelty, the avarice, the sardonic mockery. For the briefest moment\n his cold gray eyes grew incredibly tender with a sudden\n ancient, long-forgotten longing, crying at last to be heard.\n\n\n And then, with a scream of rage he was stumbling into the\n midst of the light, lashing out wildly at the heart of its shimmering\n brilliance. His huge hand caught the hypnotic stone\n and swept it into crashing, ear-splitting cacophony against the\n cold steel bulkhead. He stood rigid, his whole body shaking,\n eyes blazing with fear and anger and hatred as he turned on\n Ravdin and Dana. His voice was a raging storm of bitterness\n drowning out the dying strains of the music.\n\n\n \"Spies! You thought you could steal my mind away, make\n me forget my duty and listen to your rotten, poisonous noise!\n Well, you failed, do you hear? I didn't hear it, I didn't listen,\nI didn't\n! I'll hunt you down as my fathers hunted you down,\n I'll bring my people their vengeance and glory, and your foul\n music will be dead!\"\n\n\n He turned to the guards, wildly, his hands still trembling.\n \"Take them out! Whip them, burn them, do anything! But\n find out where their people have gone. Find out! Music! We'll\n take the music out of them, once and for all.\"\nThe inquisition had been horrible. Their minds had had no\n concept of such horror, such relentless, racking pain. The\n blazing lights, the questions screaming in their ears, Frankle's\n vicious eyes burning in frustration, and their own screams,\n rising with each question they would not answer until their\n throats were scorched and they could no longer scream. Finally\n they reached the limit they could endure, and muttered\n together the hoarse words that could deliver them. Not words\n that Frankle could hear, but words to bring deliverance, to\n blank out their minds like a wet sponge over slate. The hypnotic\n key clicked into the lock of their minds; their screams\n died in their brains. Frankle stared at them, and knew instantly\n what they had done, a technique of memory obliteration\n known and dreaded for so many thousands of years that\n history could not remember. As his captives stood mindless\n before him, he let out one hoarse, agonized scream of frustration\n and defeat.\n\n\n But strangely enough he did not kill them. He left them\n on a cold stone ledge, blinking dumbly at each other as the\n ships of his fleet rose one by one and vanished like fireflies in\n the dark night sky. Naked, they sat alone on the planet of the\n Jungle-land. They knew no words, no music, nothing. And they\n did not even know that in the departing ships a seed had been\n planted. For Frankle\nhad\nheard the music. He had grasped the\n beauty of his enemies for that brief instant, and in that instant\n they had become less his enemies. A tiny seed of doubt had\n been planted. The seed would grow.\n\n\n The two sat dumbly, shivering. Far in the distance, a beast\n roared against the heavy night, and a light rain began to fall.\n They sat naked, the rain soaking their skin and hair. Then one\n of them grunted, and moved into the dry darkness of the cave.\n Deep within him some instinct spoke, warning him to fear\n the roar of the animal.\n\n\n Blinking dully, the woman crept into the cave after him.\n Three thoughts alone filled their empty minds. Not thoughts of\n Nehmon and his people; to them, Nehmon had never existed,\n forgotten as completely as if he had never been. No thoughts\n of the Hunters, either, nor of their unheard-of mercy in leaving\n them their lives—lives of memoryless oblivion, like animals\n in this green Jungle-land, but lives nonetheless.\n\n\n Only three thoughts filled their minds:\n\n\n It was raining.\n\n\n They were hungry.\n\n\n The Saber-tooth was prowling tonight.\n\n\n They never knew that the link had been forged.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was the bad news that Ravdin was eager to deliver?", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_1", "options": ["His ship had been destroyed", "He had been discovered on his mission", "He discovered that the hunters were coming to the city", "The concert had been cancelled"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is \"the link\" mentioned in the title?", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_2", "options": ["The link between Ravdin's people and the hunters", "The link between the communities' minds at the concerts", "The link between Ravdin and Dana", "The warp-passage that linked worlds"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was the city going to be burned?", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_3", "options": ["Ravdin's society would burn it to hide from the Hunters", "The hunters would burn it when they discovered it", "The warp-passage was malfunctioning and would explode", "A wildfire from the Jungle was coming"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the peaceful society's ultimate goal?", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_4", "options": ["Fighting against the Hunters", "Finding a permanent hiding place from the Hunters", "Having a perfect communal concert", "Electing a new leader"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is Ravdin willing to try and make peace with the Hunters?", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_5", "options": ["They have offered messages of peace recently", "It has been thousands of years since they have had contact", "He believes he can convince their leader", "He is going to try and trick the Hunters"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Dana mean by the saying the concerts \"have come so far?\"", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_6", "options": ["They have traveled a great distance to keep having concerts", "The concerts have gotten much longer in length", "The concerts have become an event that involves the entire community", "The Hunters are starting to like the concerts even more"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Nehmon most worried about while talking with Ravdin and Dana?", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_7", "options": ["The society not being able to leave quickly enough to avoid the hunters", "That they will not achieve the perfect community concert", "That Ravdin may be mistaken about the Hunters knowing their location", "Ravdin and Dana's plan to stay behind and speak with the Hunters"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Frankle mean when he asked to see Dana's magic?", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_8", "options": ["He would allow Dana to use the warp-passage", "He would allow them to show him music", "He would allow them to contact their people", "He wanted to see more of her smile"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Ravdin and Dana enter a cave in the jungle at the end of the story?", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_9", "options": ["To hide from their society so they could meet the Hunters", "To flee from the Hunters' inquisition ", "They had wiped their own minds, becoming uncivilized", "To wait for their society to return and pick them up"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Ravdin and Dana accomplish by staying behind?", "question_unique_id": "22876_2BBI3WOT_10", "options": ["They successfully hid from the Hunters", "They started a tenuous link with the Hunters via their music", "They finally completed the perfect concert", "They convinced their people to fight back against the Hunters"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/7/22876//22876-h//22876-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22958", "set_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "One-Shot", "year": 1966, "author": "Blish, James", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "ONE-SHOT\nYou\n can do a great deal if\n you have enough data, and\n enough time to compute on it,\n by logical methods. But given\n the situation that neither data\n nor time is adequate, and an\n answer must be produced ...\n what do you do?\nBY JAMES BLISH\nIllustrated by van Dongen\n\n\n On the day that the Polish freighter\nLudmilla\nlaid an egg in New\n York harbor, Abner Longmans\n (\"One-Shot\") Braun was in the city\n going about his normal business,\n which was making another million\n dollars. As we found out later, almost\n nothing else was normal about\n that particular week end for Braun.\n For one thing, he had brought his\n family with him—a complete departure\n from routine—reflecting the unprecedentedly\n legitimate nature of\n the deals he was trying to make.\n From every point of view it was a\n bad week end for the CIA to mix\n into his affairs, but nobody had explained\n that to the master of the\nLudmilla\n.\n\n\n I had better add here that we\n knew nothing about this until afterward;\n from the point of view of the\n storyteller, an organization like Civilian\n Intelligence Associates gets to\n all its facts backwards, entering the\n tale at the pay-off, working back to\n the hook, and winding up with a\n sheaf of background facts to feed\n into the computer for Next Time. It's\n rough on the various people who've\n tried to fictionalize what we do—particularly\n for the lazy examples of\n the breed, who come to us expecting\n that their plotting has already been\n done for them—but it's inherent in\n the way we operate, and there it is.\n\n\n Certainly nobody at CIA so much\n as thought of Braun when the news\n first came through. Harry Anderton,\n the Harbor Defense chief, called us\n at 0830 Friday to take on the job of\n identifying the egg; this was when\n our records show us officially entering\n the affair, but, of course, Anderton\n had been keeping the wires to\n Washington steaming for an hour before\n that, getting authorization to\n spend some of his money on us (our\n clearance status was then and is now\n C&R—clean and routine).\n\n\n I was in the central office when\n the call came through, and had some\n difficulty in making out precisely\n what Anderton wanted of us. \"Slow\n down, Colonel Anderton, please,\" I\n begged him. \"Two or three seconds\n won't make that much difference.\n How did you find out about this egg\n in the first place?\"\n\n\n \"The automatic compartment bulkheads\n on the\nLudmilla\nwere defective,\"\n he said. \"It seems that this\n egg was buried among a lot of other\n crates in the dump-cell of the\n hold—\"\n\n\n \"What's a dump cell?\"\n\n\n \"It's a sea lock for getting rid of\n dangerous cargo. The bottom of it\n opens right to Davy Jones. Standard\n fitting for ships carrying explosives,\n radioactives, anything that might act\n up unexpectedly.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" I said. \"Go ahead.\"\n\n\n \"Well, there was a timer on the\n dump-cell floor, set to drop the egg\n when the ship came up the river.\n That worked fine, but the automatic\n bulkheads that are supposed to keep\n the rest of the ship from being flooded\n while the cell's open, didn't. At\n least they didn't do a thorough job.\n The\nLudmilla\nbegan to list and the\n captain yelled for help. When the\n Harbor Patrol found the dump-cell\n open, they called us in.\"\n\n\n \"I see.\" I thought about it a moment.\n \"In other words, you don't\n know whether the\nLudmilla\nreally\n laid an egg or not.\"\n\n\n \"That's what I keep trying to explain\n to you, Dr. Harris. We don't\n know what she dropped and we\n haven't any way of finding out. It\n could be a bomb—it could be anything.\n We're sweating everybody on\n board the ship now, but it's my guess\n that none of them know anything;\n the whole procedure was designed to\n be automatic.\"\n\n\n \"All right, we'll take it,\" I said.\n \"You've got divers down?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, but—\"\n\n\n \"We'll worry about the buts from\n here on. Get us a direct line from\n your barge to the big board here so\n we can direct the work. Better get\n on over here yourself.\"\n\n\n \"Right.\" He sounded relieved.\n Official people have a lot of confidence\n in CIA; too much, in my estimation.\n Some day the job will come\n along that we can't handle, and then\n Washington will be kicking itself—or,\n more likely, some scapegoat—for\n having failed to develop a comparable\n government department.\n\n\n Not that there was much prospect\n of Washington's doing that. Official\n thinking had been running in the\n other direction for years. The precedent\n was the Associated Universities\n organization which ran Brookhaven;\n CIA had been started the same way,\n by a loose corporation of universities\n and industries all of which had\n wanted to own an ULTIMAC and\n no one of which had had the money\n to buy one for itself. The Eisenhower\n administration, with its emphasis\n on private enterprise and concomitant\n reluctance to sink federal\n funds into projects of such size, had\n turned the two examples into a nice\n fat trend, which ULTIMAC herself\n said wasn't going to be reversed\n within the practicable lifetime of\n CIA.\nI buzzed for two staffers, and in\n five minutes got Clark Cheyney and\n Joan Hadamard, CIA's business manager\n and social science division chief\n respectively. The titles were almost\n solely for the benefit of the T/O—that\n is, Clark and Joan do serve in\n those capacities, but said service takes\n about two per cent of their capacities\n and their time. I shot them a couple\n of sentences of explanation, trusting\n them to pick up whatever else they\n needed from the tape, and checked\n the line to the divers' barge.\n\n\n It was already open; Anderton had\n gone to work quickly and with decision\n once he was sure we were taking\n on the major question. The television\n screen lit, but nothing showed\n on it but murky light, striped with\n streamers of darkness slowly rising\n and falling. The audio went\ncloonck\n...\noing\n,\noing\n...\nbonk\n...\noing\n... Underwater noises, shapeless\n and characterless.\n\n\n \"Hello, out there in the harbor.\n This is CIA, Harris calling. Come in,\n please.\"\n\n\n \"Monig here,\" the audio said.\nBoink\n...\noing\n,\noing\n...\n\n\n \"Got anything yet?\"\n\n\n \"Not a thing, Dr. Harris,\" Monig\n said. \"You can't see three inches in\n front of your face down here—it's\n too silty. We've bumped into a couple\n of crates, but so far, no egg.\"\n\n\n \"Keep trying.\"\n\n\n Cheyney, looking even more like\n a bulldog than usual, was setting his\n stopwatch by one of the eight clocks\n on ULTIMAC's face. \"Want me to\n take the divers?\" he said.\n\n\n \"No, Clark, not yet. I'd rather\n have Joan do it for the moment.\" I\n passed the mike to her. \"You'd better\n run a probability series first.\"\n\n\n \"Check.\" He began feeding tape\n into the integrator's mouth. \"What's\n your angle, Peter?\"\n\n\n \"The ship. I want to see how heavily\n shielded that dump-cell is.\"\n\n\n \"It isn't shielded at all,\" Anderton's\n voice said behind me. I hadn't\n heard him come in. \"But that doesn't\n prove anything. The egg might have\n carried sufficient shielding in itself.\n Or maybe the Commies didn't care\n whether the crew was exposed or not.\n Or maybe there isn't any egg.\"\n\n\n \"All that's possible,\" I admitted.\n \"But I want to see it, anyhow.\"\n\n\n \"Have you taken blood tests?\"\n Joan asked Anderton.\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Get the reports through to me,\n then. I want white-cell counts, differentials,\n platelet counts, hematocrit\n and sed rates on every man.\"\n\n\n Anderton picked up the phone and\n I took a firm hold on the doorknob.\n\n\n \"Hey,\" Anderton said, putting the\n phone down again. \"Are you going\n to duck out just like that? Remember,\n Dr. Harris, we've got to evacuate the\n city first of all! No matter whether\n it's a real egg or not—we can't take\n the chance on it's\nnot\nbeing an egg!\"\n\n\n \"Don't move a man until you get\n a go-ahead from CIA,\" I said. \"For\n all we know now, evacuating the city\n may be just what the enemy wants us\n to do—so they can grab it unharmed.\n Or they may want to start a panic\n for some other reason, any one of\n fifty possible reasons.\"\n\n\n \"You can't take such a gamble,\"\n he said grimly. \"There are eight and\n a half million lives riding on it. I\n can't let you do it.\"\n\n\n \"You passed your authority to us\n when you hired us,\" I pointed out.\n \"If you want to evacuate without our\n O.K., you'll have to fire us first. It'll\n take another hour to get that cleared\n from Washington—so you might as\n well give us the hour.\"\n\n\n He stared at me for a moment, his\n lips thinned. Then he picked up the\n phone again to order Joan's blood\n count, and I got out the door, fast.\nA reasonable man would have said\n that I found nothing useful on the\nLudmilla\n, except negative information.\n But the fact is that anything I\n found would have been a surprise to\n me; I went down looking for surprises.\n I found nothing but a faint\n trail to Abner Longmans Braun, most\n of which was fifteen years cold.\n\n\n There'd been a time when I'd\n known Braun, briefly and to no\n profit to either of us. As an undergraduate\n majoring in social sciences,\n I'd taken on a term paper on the old\n International Longshoreman's Association,\n a racket-ridden union now\n formally extinct—although anyone\n who knew the signs could still pick\n up some traces on the docks. In those\n days, Braun had been the business\n manager of an insurance firm, the\n sole visible function of which had\n been to write policies for the ILA\n and its individual dock-wallopers.\n For some reason, he had been amused\n by the brash youngster who'd barged\n in on him and demanded the lowdown,\n and had shown me considerable\n lengths of ropes not normally\n in view of the public—nothing incriminating,\n but enough to give me\n a better insight into how the union\n operated than I had had any right to\n expect—or even suspect.\n\n\n Hence I was surprised to hear\n somebody on the docks remark that\n Braun was in the city over the week\n end. It would never have occurred\n to me that he still interested himself\n in the waterfront, for he'd gone respectable\n with a vengeance. He was\n still a professional gambler, and according\n to what he had told the\n Congressional Investigating Committee\n last year, took in thirty to fifty\n thousand dollars a year at it, but his\n gambles were no longer concentrated\n on horses, the numbers, or shady insurance\n deals. Nowadays what he did\n was called investment—mostly in real\n estate; realtors knew him well as the\n man who had\nalmost\nbought the Empire\n State Building. (The\nalmost\nin\n the equation stands for the moment\n when the shoestring broke.)\n\n\n Joan had been following his career,\n too, not because she had ever met\n him, but because for her he was a\n type study in the evolution of what\n she called \"the extra-legal ego.\"\n \"With personalities like that, respectability\n is a disease,\" she told me.\n \"There's always an almost-open conflict\n between the desire to be powerful\n and the desire to be accepted;\n your ordinary criminal is a moral imbecile,\n but people like Braun are\n damned with a conscience, and sooner\n or later they crack trying to appease\n it.\"\n\n\n \"I'd sooner try to crack a Timkin\n bearing,\" I said. \"Braun's ten-point\n steel all the way through.\"\n\n\n \"Don't you believe it. The symptoms\n are showing all over him. Now\n he's backing Broadway plays, sponsoring\n beginning actresses, joining\n playwrights' groups—he's the only\n member of Buskin and Brush who's\n never written a play, acted in one, or\n so much as pulled the rope to raise\n the curtain.\"\n\n\n \"That's investment,\" I said.\n \"That's his business.\"\n\n\n \"Peter, you're only looking at the\n surface. His real investments almost\n never fail. But the plays he backs\nalways\ndo. They have to; he's sinking\n money in them to appease his conscience,\n and if they were to succeed it\n would double his guilt instead of\n salving it. It's the same way with the\n young actresses. He's not sexually\n interested in them—his type never is,\n because living a rigidly orthodox\n family life is part of the effort towards\n respectability. He's backing\n them to 'pay his debt to society'—in\n other words, they're talismans to\n keep him out of jail.\"\n\n\n \"It doesn't seem like a very satisfactory\n substitute.\"\n\n\n \"Of course it isn't,\" Joan had said.\n \"The next thing he'll do is go in for\n direct public service—giving money\n to hospitals or something like that.\n You watch.\"\n\n\n She had been right; within the\n year, Braun had announced the\n founding of an association for clearing\n the Detroit slum area where he\n had been born—the plainest kind of\n symbolic suicide:\nLet's not have any\n more Abner Longmans Brauns born\n down here\n. It depressed me to see it\n happen, for next on Joan's agenda\n for Braun was an entry into politics\n as a fighting liberal—a New Dealer\n twenty years too late. Since I'm mildly\n liberal myself when I'm off duty,\n I hated to think what Braun's career\n might tell me about my own motives,\n if I'd let it.\nAll of which had nothing to do\n with why I was prowling around the\nLudmilla\n—or did it? I kept remembering\n Anderton's challenge: \"You\n can't take such a gamble. There are\n eight and a half million lives riding\n on it—\" That put it up into Braun's\n normal operating area, all right. The\n connection was still hazy, but on the\n grounds that any link might be useful,\n I phoned him.\n\n\n He remembered me instantly; like\n most uneducated, power-driven men,\n he had a memory as good as any machine's.\n\n\n \"You never did send me that paper\n you was going to write,\" he said. His\n voice seemed absolutely unchanged,\n although he was in his seventies now.\n \"You promised you would.\"\n\n\n \"Kids don't keep their promises\n as well as they should,\" I said. \"But\n I've still got copies and I'll see to it\n that you get one, this time. Right\n now I need another favor—something\n right up your alley.\"\n\n\n \"CIA business?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. I didn't know you knew I\n was with CIA.\"\n\n\n Braun chuckled. \"I still know a\n thing or two,\" he said. \"What's the\n angle?\"\n\n\n \"That I can't tell you over the\n phone. But it's the biggest gamble\n there ever was, and I think we need\n an expert. Can you come down to\n CIA's central headquarters right\n away?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah, if it's that big. If it ain't,\n I got lots of business here, Andy.\n And I ain't going to be in town long.\n You're sure it's top stuff?\"\n\n\n \"My word on it.\"\n\n\n He was silent a moment. Then he\n said, \"Andy, send me your paper.\"\n\n\n \"The paper? Sure, but—\" Then I\n got it. I'd given him my word.\n \"You'll get it,\" I said. \"Thanks, Mr.\n Braun.\"\n\n\n I called headquarters and sent a\n messenger to my apartment to look\n for one of those long-dusty blue folders\n with the legal-length sheets inside\n them, with orders to scorch it over\n to Braun without stopping to breathe\n more than once. Then I went back\n myself.\n\n\n The atmosphere had changed. Anderton\n was sitting by the big desk,\n clenching his fists and sweating; his\n whole posture telegraphed his controlled\n helplessness. Cheyney was\n bent over a seismograph, echo-sounding\n for the egg through the river\n bottom. If that even had a prayer of\n working, I knew, he'd have had the\n trains of the Hudson & Manhattan\n stopped; their rumbling course\n through their tubes would have\n blanked out any possible echo-pip\n from the egg.\n\n\n \"Wild goose chase?\" Joan said,\n scanning my face.\n\n\n \"Not quite. I've got something, if\n I can just figure out what it is. Remember\n One-Shot Braun?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. What's he got to do with\n it?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing,\" I said. \"But I want\n to bring him in. I don't think we'll\n lick this project before deadline without\n him.\"\n\n\n \"What good is a professional\n gambler on a job like this? He'll just\n get in the way.\"\n\n\n I looked toward the television\n screen, which now showed an\n amorphous black mass, jutting up\n from a foundation of even deeper\n black. \"Is that operation getting you\n anywhere?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing's gotten us anywhere,\"\n Anderton interjected harshly. \"We\n don't even know if that's the egg—the\n whole area is littered with crates.\n Harris, you've got to let me get that\n alert out!\"\n\n\n \"Clark, how's the time going?\"\n\n\n Cheyney consulted the stopwatch.\n \"Deadline in twenty-nine minutes,\"\n he said.\n\n\n \"All right, let's use those minutes.\n I'm beginning to see this thing\n a little clearer. Joan, what we've got\n here is a one-shot gamble; right?\"\n\n\n \"In effect,\" she said cautiously.\n\n\n \"And it's my guess that we're\n never going to get the answer by\n diving for it—not in time, anyhow.\n Remember when the Navy lost a\n barge-load of shells in the harbor,\n back in '52? They scrabbled for them\n for a year and never pulled up a one;\n they finally had to warn the public\n that if it found anything funny-looking\n along the shore it shouldn't bang\n said object, or shake it either. We're\n better equipped than the Navy was\n then—but we're working against a\n deadline.\"\n\n\n \"If you'd admitted that earlier,\"\n Anderton said hoarsely, \"we'd have\n half a million people out of the city\n by now. Maybe even a million.\"\n\n\n \"We haven't given up yet, colonel.\n The point is this, Joan: what\n we need is an inspired guess. Get\n anything from the prob series, Clark?\n I thought not. On a one-shot gamble\n of this kind, the 'laws' of chance are\n no good at all. For that matter, the\n so-called ESP experiments showed us\n long ago that even the way we construct\n random tables is full of holes—and\n that a man with a feeling for\n the essence of a gamble can make a\n monkey out of chance almost at will.\n\n\n \"And if there ever was such a\n man, Braun is it. That's why I asked\n him to come down here. I want him\n to look at that lump on the screen\n and—play a hunch.\"\n\n\n \"You're out of your mind,\" Anderton\n said.\nA decorous knock spared me the\n trouble of having to deny, affirm or\n ignore the judgment. It was Braun;\n the messenger had been fast, and\n the gambler hadn't bothered to read\n what a college student had thought\n of him fifteen years ago. He came\n forward and held out his hand, while\n the others looked him over frankly.\n\n\n He was impressive, all right. It\n would have been hard for a stranger\n to believe that he was aiming at respectability;\n to the eye, he was already\n there. He was tall and spare,\n and walked perfectly erect, not without\n spring despite his age. His clothing\n was as far from that of a\n gambler as you could have taken it\n by design: a black double-breasted\n suit with a thin vertical stripe, a gray\n silk tie with a pearl stickpin just\n barely large enough to be visible at\n all, a black Homburg; all perfectly\n fitted, all worn with proper casualness—one\n might almost say a formal\n casualness. It was only when he\n opened his mouth that One-Shot\n Braun was in the suit with him.\n\n\n \"I come over as soon as your runner\n got to me,\" he said. \"What's the\n pitch, Andy?\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Braun, this is Joan Hadamard,\n Clark Cheyney, Colonel Anderton.\n I'll be quick because we need\n speed now. A Polish ship has dropped\n something out in the harbor.\n We don't know what it is. It may be\n a hell-bomb, or it may be just somebody's\n old laundry. Obviously we've\n got to find out which—and we want\n you to tell us.\"\n\n\n Braun's aristocratic eyebrows went\n up. \"Me? Hell, Andy, I don't know\n nothing about things like that. I'm\n surprised with you. I thought CIA\n had all the brains it needed—ain't\n you got machines to tell you answers\n like that?\"\n\n\n I pointed silently to Joan, who had\n gone back to work the moment the\n introductions were over. She was still\n on the mike to the divers. She was\n saying: \"What does it look like?\"\n\n\n \"It's just a lump of something,\n Dr. Hadamard. Can't even tell its\n shape—it's buried too deeply in the\n mud.\"\nCloonk\n...\nOing\n,\noing\n...\n\n\n \"Try the Geiger.\"\n\n\n \"We did. Nothing but background.\"\n\n\n \"Scintillation counter?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing, Dr. Hadamard. Could\n be it's shielded.\"\n\n\n \"Let us do the guessing, Monig.\n All right, maybe it's got a clockwork\n fuse that didn't break with the impact.\n Or a gyroscopic fuse. Stick a\n stethoscope on it and see if you pick\n up a ticking or anything that sounds\n like a motor running.\"\nThere was a lag and I turned back\n to Braun. \"As you can see, we're\n stymied. This is a long shot, Mr.\n Braun. One throw of the dice—one\n show-down hand. We've got to have\n an expert call it for us—somebody\n with a record of hits on long shots.\n That's why I called you.\"\n\n\n \"It's no good,\" he said. He took\n off the Homburg, took his handkerchief\n from his breast pocket, and\n wiped the hatband. \"I can't do it.\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"It ain't my\nkind\nof thing,\" he\n said. \"Look, I never in my life run\n odds on anything that made any difference.\n But this makes a difference.\n If I guess wrong—\"\n\n\n \"Then we're all dead ducks. But\n why should you guess wrong? Your\n hunches have been working for sixty\n years now.\"\n\n\n Braun wiped his face. \"No. You\n don't get it. I wish you'd listen to\n me. Look, my wife and my kids are\n in the city. It ain't only my life, it's\n theirs, too. That's what I care about.\n That's why it's no good. On things\n that matter to me,\nmy hunches don't\n work\n.\"\n\n\n I was stunned, and so, I could see,\n were Joan and Cheyney. I suppose I\n should have guessed it, but it had\n never occurred to me.\n\n\n \"Ten minutes,\" Cheyney said.\n\n\n I looked up at Braun. He was\n frightened, and again I was surprised\n without having any right to\n be. I tried to keep at least my voice\n calm.\n\n\n \"Please try it anyhow, Mr. Braun—as\n a favor. It's already too late to\n do it any other way. And if you guess\n wrong, the outcome won't be any\n worse than if you don't try at all.\"\n\n\n \"My kids,\" he whispered. I don't\n think he knew that he was speaking\n aloud. I waited.\n\n\n Then his eyes seemed to come back\n to the present. \"All right,\" he said.\n \"I told you the truth, Andy. Remember\n that. So—is it a bomb or ain't it?\n That's what's up for grabs, right?\"\n\n\n I nodded. He closed his eyes. An\n unexpected stab of pure fright went\n down my back. Without the eyes,\n Braun's face was a death mask.\n\n\n The water sounds and the irregular\n ticking of a Geiger counter\n seemed to spring out from the audio\n speaker, four times as loud as before.\n I could even hear the pen of\n the seismograph scribbling away, until\n I looked at the instrument and\n saw that Clark had stopped it, probably\n long ago.\n\n\n Droplets of sweat began to form\n along Braun's forehead and his upper\n lip. The handkerchief remained\n crushed in his hand.\n\n\n Anderton said, \"Of all the fool—\"\n\n\n \"Hush!\" Joan said quietly.\nSlowly, Braun opened his eyes.\n \"All right,\" he said. \"You guys\n wanted it this way.\nI say it's a bomb.\n\"\n He stared at us for a moment more—and\n then, all at once, the Timkin\n bearing burst. Words poured out of\n it. \"Now you guys do something, do\n your job like I did mine—get my\n wife and kids out of there—empty\n the city—do something,\ndo something\n!\"\n\n\n Anderton was already grabbing\n for the phone. \"You're right, Mr.\n Braun. If it isn't already too late—\"\n\n\n Cheyney shot out a hand and\n caught Anderton's telephone arm by\n the wrist. \"Wait a minute,\" he said.\n\n\n \"What d'you mean, 'wait a minute'?\n Haven't you already shot\n enough time?\"\n\n\n Cheyney did not let go; instead,\n he looked inquiringly at Joan and\n said, \"One minute, Joan. You might\n as well go ahead.\"\n\n\n She nodded and spoke into the\n mike. \"Monig, unscrew the cap.\"\n\n\n \"Unscrew the cap?\" the audio\n squawked. \"But Dr. Hadamard, if\n that sets it off—\"\n\n\n \"It won't go off. That's the one\n thing you can be sure it won't do.\"\n\n\n \"What is this?\" Anderton demanded.\n \"And what's this deadline\n stuff, anyhow?\"\n\n\n \"The cap's off,\" Monig reported.\n \"We're getting plenty of radiation\n now. Just a minute— Yeah. Dr.\n Hadamard, it's a bomb, all right.\n But it hasn't got a fuse. Now how\n could they have made a fool mistake\n like that?\"\n\n\n \"In other words, it's a dud,\" Joan\n said.\n\n\n \"That's right, a dud.\"\n\n\n Now, at last, Braun wiped his face,\n which was quite gray. \"I told you\n the truth,\" he said grimly. \"My\n hunches don't work on stuff like\n this.\"\n\n\n \"But they do,\" I said. \"I'm sorry\n we put you through the wringer—and\n you too, colonel—but we couldn't\n let an opportunity like this slip.\n It was too good a chance for us to\n test how our facilities would stand\n up in a real bomb-drop.\"\n\n\n \"A real drop?\" Anderton said.\n \"Are you trying to say that CIA\n staged this? You ought to be shot,\n the whole pack of you!\"\n\n\n \"No, not exactly,\" I said. \"The\n enemy's responsible for the drop, all\n right. We got word last month from\n our man in Gdynia that they were\n going to do it, and that the bomb\n would be on board the\nLudmilla\n. As\n I say, it was too good an opportunity\n to miss. We wanted to find out just\n how long it would take us to figure\n out the nature of the bomb—which\n we didn't know in detail—after it\n was dropped here. So we had our\n people in Gdynia defuse the thing\n after it was put on board the ship,\n but otherwise leave it entirely alone.\n\n\n \"Actually, you see, your hunch was\n right on the button as far as it went.\n We didn't ask you whether or not\n that object was a live bomb. We\n asked whether it was a bomb or not.\n You said it was, and you were right.\"\n\n\n The expression on Braun's face\n was exactly like the one he had worn\n while he had been searching for his\n decision—except that, since his eyes\n were open, I could see that it was\n directed at me. \"If this was the old\n days,\" he said in an ice-cold voice,\n \"I might of made the colonel's idea\n come true. I don't go for tricks like\n this, Andy.\"\n\n\n \"It was more than a trick,\" Clark\n put in. \"You'll remember we had\n a deadline on the test, Mr. Braun.\n Obviously, in a real drop we wouldn't\n have all the time in the world\n to figure out what kind of a thing\n had been dropped. If we had still\n failed to establish that when the\n deadline ran out, we would have\n had to allow evacuation of the city,\n with all the attendant risk that that\n was exactly what the enemy wanted\n us to do.\"\n\n\n \"So?\"\n\n\n \"So we failed the test,\" I said. \"At\n one minute short of the deadline,\n Joan had the divers unscrew the cap.\n In a real drop that would have resulted\n in a detonation, if the bomb\n was real; we'd never risk it. That\n we did do it in the test was a concession\n of failure—an admission that\n our usual methods didn't come\n through for us in time.\n\n\n \"And that means that you were\n the only person who did come\n through, Mr. Braun. If a real bomb-drop\n ever comes, we're going to have\n to have you here, as an active part of\n our investigation. Your intuition for\n the one-shot gamble was the one\n thing that bailed us out this time.\n Next time it may save eight million\n lives.\"\n\n\n There was quite a long silence. All\n of us, Anderton included, watched\n Braun intently, but his impassive\n face failed to show any trace of how\n his thoughts were running.\n\n\n When he did speak at last, what\n he said must have seemed insanely\n irrelevant to Anderton, and maybe\n to Cheyney too. And perhaps it\n meant nothing more to Joan than\n the final clinical note in a case history.\n\n\n \"It's funny,\" he said, \"I was\n thinking of running for Congress\n next year from my district. But maybe\n this is more important.\"\n\n\n It was, I believe, the sigh of a man\n at peace with himself.\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAstounding Science Fiction\nAugust\n 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is Ludmilla?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_1", "options": ["A chicken", "A city", "An American submarine ", "A Polish ship"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where are they?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_2", "options": ["New York", "California", "Poland", "Michigan"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does it mean for the Ludmilla to lay an egg?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_3", "options": ["The egg refers to illegal drugs being transported on the ship. ", "Stolen goods were smuggled onto the ship. ", "An oil spill polluted the ocean. ", "An object, likely a bomb, was dropped from the ship into the ocean. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Dr. Harris call Braun?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_4", "options": ["He is a diver.", "He has a criminal past.  ", "He knows how to defuse bombs. ", "He has good intuition. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What do Dr. Harris and Dr. Hadamard know that the others don’t know?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_5", "options": ["Braun is being framed. ", "The bomb has already been defused. ", "There is no bomb. ", "The CIA planted the bomb. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Braun sigh a relief in the end?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_6", "options": ["He remembers that his wife and children are in a different city. ", "He gave Mr. Harris the wrong answer, but it didn't matter. ", "He realizes he is not in trouble. ", "Working with the CIA makes him feel that he is doing something respectable. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Braun sweats with anxiety. What makes this gamble different from other gambles?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_7", "options": ["He is too old and lost his hunches. ", "The stakes are too high because his family is at risk. ", "He doesn't have enough information. ", "He doesn't like to gamble in a time crunch. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Dr. Harris know Braun?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_8", "options": ["Dr. Harris arrested Braun for fraud. ", "They went to undergraduate college together. ", "Braun used to work for the CIA. ", "Dr. Harris wrote a term paper about Braun and his business.  "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is the CIA interested in following Braun's career?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_9", "options": ["He wants to run for political office. ", "He donates lots of money to charities. ", "He makes deals with the Polish. ", "He is a professional gambler who teeters on the line between legal and illegal work. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Mr. Harris trying to do?", "question_unique_id": "22958_CIJCBUXL_10", "options": ["Find the object that was dropped from the ship. ", "Save the city from the ticking bomb. ", "Facilitate a drill to see if the team would be able to stop a real bomb-threat. ", "Evacuate the city before the Polish attack. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/9/5/22958//22958-h//22958-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22966", "set_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Toy Shop", "year": 1968, "author": "Harrison, Harry", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; PS", "article": "The gadget was strictly,\n\n beyond any question, a toy.\n\n Not a real, workable device.\n\n Except for the way it could work\n\n under a man's mental skin....\nBY HARRY HARRISON\nBecause there were few adults in\n the crowd, and Colonel \"Biff\" Hawton\n stood over six feet tall, he could\n see every detail of the demonstration.\n The children—and most of the\n parents—gaped in wide-eyed wonder.\n Biff Hawton was too sophisticated\n to be awed. He stayed on because\n he wanted to find out what the\n trick was that made the gadget work.\n\n\n \"It's all explained right here in\n your instruction book,\" the demonstrator\n said, holding up a garishly\n printed booklet opened to a four-color\n diagram. \"You all know how\n magnets pick up things and I bet\n you even know that the earth itself is\n one great big magnet—that's why\n compasses always point north. Well\n ... the Atomic Wonder Space\n Wave Tapper hangs onto those space\n waves. Invisibly all about us, and\n even going right through us, are the\n magnetic waves of the earth. The\n Atomic Wonder rides these waves\n just the way a ship rides the waves\n in the ocean. Now watch....\"\n\n\n Every eye was on him as he put the\n gaudy model rocketship on top of the\n table and stepped back. It was made\n of stamped metal and seemed as incapable\n of flying as a can of ham—which\n it very much resembled. Neither\n wings, propellors, nor jets broke\n through the painted surface. It rested\n on three rubber wheels and coming\n out through the bottom was a double\n strand of thin insulated wire. This\n white wire ran across the top of the\n black table and terminated in a control\n box in the demonstrator's hand.\n An indicator light, a switch and a\n knob appeared to be the only controls.\n\n\n \"I turn on the Power Switch, sending\n a surge of current to the Wave\n Receptors,\" he said. The switch\n clicked and the light blinked on and\n off with a steady pulse. Then the\n man began to slowly turn the knob.\n \"A careful touch on the Wave Generator\n is necessary as we are dealing\n with the powers of the whole world\n here....\"\n\n\n A concerted\nahhhh\nswept through\n the crowd as the Space Wave Tapper\n shivered a bit, then rose slowly into\n the air. The demonstrator stepped\n back and the toy rose higher and\n higher, bobbing gently on the invisible\n waves of magnetic force that\n supported it. Ever so slowly the power\n was reduced and it settled back to\n the table.\n\n\n \"Only $17.95,\" the young man\n said, putting a large price sign on the\n table. \"For the complete set of the\n Atomic Wonder, the Space Tapper\n control box, battery and instruction\n book ...\"\n\n\n At the appearance of the price\n card the crowd broke up noisily and\n the children rushed away towards the\n operating model trains. The demonstrator's\n words were lost in their\n noisy passage, and after a moment he\n sank into a gloomy silence. He put\n the control box down, yawned and\n sat on the edge of the table. Colonel\n Hawton was the only one left after\n the crowd had moved on.\n\n\n \"Could you tell me how this thing\n works?\" the colonel asked, coming\n forward. The demonstrator brightened\n up and picked up one of the\n toys.\n\n\n \"Well, if you will look here,\n sir....\" He opened the hinged top.\n \"You will see the Space Wave coils\n at each end of the ship.\" With a pencil\n he pointed out the odd shaped\n plastic forms about an inch in diameter\n that had been wound—apparently\n at random—with a few turns of\n copper wire. Except for these coils\n the interior of the model was empty.\n The coils were wired together and\n other wires ran out through the hole\n in the bottom of the control box.\n Biff Hawton turned a very quizzical\n eye on the gadget and upon the demonstrator\n who completely ignored this\n sign of disbelief.\n\n\n \"Inside the control box is the battery,\"\n the young man said, snapping\n it open and pointing to an ordinary\n flashlight battery. \"The current goes\n through the Power Switch and Power\n Light to the Wave Generator ...\"\n\n\n \"What you mean to say,\" Biff\n broke in, \"is that the juice from this\n fifteen cent battery goes through this\n cheap rheostat to those meaningless\n coils in the model and absolutely\n nothing happens. Now tell me what\n really flies the thing. If I'm going to\n drop eighteen bucks for six-bits\n worth of tin, I want to know what\n I'm getting.\"\n\n\n The demonstrator flushed. \"I'm\n sorry, sir,\" he stammered. \"I wasn't\n trying to hide anything. Like any\n magic trick this one can't be really\n demonstrated until it has been purchased.\"\n He leaned forward and whispered\n confidentially. \"I'll tell you\n what I'll do though. This thing is way\n overpriced and hasn't been moving at\n all. The manager said I could let them\n go at three dollars if I could find any\n takers. If you want to buy it for that\n price....\"\n\n\n \"Sold, my boy!\" the colonel said,\n slamming three bills down on the\n table. \"I'll give that much for it no\n matter\nhow\nit works. The boys in the\n shop will get a kick out of it,\" he\n tapped the winged rocket on his\n chest. \"Now\nreally\n—what holds it\n up?\"\n\n\n The demonstrator looked around\n carefully, then pointed. \"Strings!\" he\n said. \"Or rather a black thread. It\n runs from the top of the model,\n through a tiny loop in the ceiling,\n and back down to my hand—tied to\n this ring on my finger. When I back\n up—the model rises. It's as simple as\n that.\"\n\n\n \"All good illusions are simple,\"\n the colonel grunted, tracing the black\n thread with his eye. \"As long as\n there is plenty of flimflam to distract\n the viewer.\"\n\n\n \"If you don't have a black table, a\n black cloth will do,\" the young man\n said. \"And the arch of a doorway is a\n good site, just see that the room in\n back is dark.\"\n\n\n \"Wrap it up, my boy, I wasn't born\n yesterday. I'm an old hand at this\n kind of thing.\"\nBiff Hawton sprang it at the next\n Thursday-night poker party. The\n gang were all missile men and they\n cheered and jeered as he hammed\n up the introduction.\n\n\n \"Let me copy the diagram, Biff, I\n could use some of those magnetic\n waves in the new bird!\"\n\n\n \"Those flashlight batteries are\n cheaper than lox, this is the thing of\n the future!\"\n\n\n Only Teddy Kaner caught wise as\n the flight began. He was an amateur\n magician and spotted the gimmick at\n once. He kept silent with professional\n courtesy, and smiled ironically as\n the rest of the bunch grew silent one\n by one. The colonel was a good showman\n and he had set the scene well.\n He almost had them believing in the\n Space Wave Tapper before he was\n through. When the model had landed\n and he had switched it off he couldn't\n stop them from crowding around\n the table.\n\n\n \"A thread!\" one of the engineers\n shouted, almost with relief, and they\n all laughed along with him.\n\n\n \"Too bad,\" the head project physicist\n said, \"I was hoping that a little\n Space Wave Tapping could help us\n out. Let me try a flight with it.\"\n\n\n \"Teddy Kaner first,\" Biff announced.\n \"He spotted it while you\n were all watching the flashing lights,\n only he didn't say anything.\"\n\n\n Kaner slipped the ring with the\n black thread over his finger and started\n to step back.\n\n\n \"You have to turn the switch on\n first,\" Biff said.\n\n\n \"I know,\" Kaner smiled. \"But\n that's part of illusion—the spiel and\n the misdirection. I'm going to try\n this cold first, so I can get it moving\n up and down smoothly, then go\n through it with the whole works.\"\n\nILLUSTRATED BY BREY\n\n He moved his hand back smoothly,\n in a professional manner that drew\n no attention to it. The model lifted\n from the table—then crashed back\n down.\n\n\n \"The thread broke,\" Kaner said.\n\n\n \"You jerked it, instead of pulling\n smoothly,\" Biff said and knotted the\n broken thread. \"Here let me show\n you how to do it.\"\n\n\n The thread broke again when Biff\n tried it, which got a good laugh that\n made his collar a little warm. Someone\n mentioned the poker game.\n\n\n This was the only time that poker\n was mentioned or even remembered\n that night. Because very soon after\n this they found that the thread would\n lift the model only when the switch\n was on and two and a half volts\n flowing through the joke coils. With\n the current turned off the model was\n too heavy to lift. The thread broke\n every time.\n\"I still think it's a screwy idea,\"\n the young man said. \"One week getting\n fallen arches, demonstrating\n those toy ships for every brat within\n a thousand miles. Then selling the\n things for three bucks when they\n must have cost at least a hundred dollars\n apiece to make.\"\n\n\n \"But you\ndid\nsell the ten of them\n to people who would be interested?\"\n the older man asked.\n\n\n \"I think so, I caught a few Air\n Force officers and a colonel in missiles\n one day. Then there was one official\n I remembered from the Bureau\n of Standards. Luckily he didn't recognize\n me. Then those two professors\n you spotted from the university.\"\n\n\n \"Then the problem is out of our\n hands and into theirs. All we have to\n do now is sit back and wait for results.\"\n\n\n \"\nWhat\nresults?! These people\n weren't interested when we were\n hammering on their doors with the\n proof. We've patented the coils and\n can prove to anyone that there is a\n reduction in weight around them\n when they are operating....\"\n\n\n \"But a small reduction. And we\n don't know what is causing it. No\n one can be interested in a thing like\n that—a fractional weight decrease in\n a clumsy model, certainly not enough\n to lift the weight of the generator.\n No one wrapped up in massive fuel\n consumption, tons of lift and such is\n going to have time to worry about a\n crackpot who thinks he has found a\n minor slip in Newton's laws.\"\n\n\n \"You think they will now?\" the\n young man asked, cracking his knuckles\n impatiently.\n\n\n \"I\nknow\nthey will. The tensile\n strength of that thread is correctly adjusted\n to the weight of the model.\n The thread will break if you try to\n lift the model with it. Yet you can\n lift the model—after a small increment\n of its weight has been removed\n by the coils. This is going to bug\n these men. Nobody is going to ask\n them to solve the problem or concern\n themselves with it. But it will\n nag at them because they know this\n effect can't possibly exist. They'll see\n at once that the magnetic-wave theory\n is nonsense. Or perhaps true? We\n don't know. But they will all be\n thinking about it and worrying about\n it. Someone is going to experiment\n in his basement—just as a hobby of\n course—to find the cause of the error.\n And he or someone else is going\n to find out what makes those coils\n work, or maybe a way to improve\n them!\"\n\n\n \"And we have the patents....\"\n\n\n \"Correct. They will be doing the\n research that will take them out of\n the massive-lift-propulsion business\n and into the field of pure space\n flight.\"\n\n\n \"And in doing so they will be making\n us rich—whenever the time\n comes to manufacture,\" the young\n man said cynically.\n\n\n \"We'll all be rich, son,\" the older\n man said, patting him on the shoulder.\n \"Believe me, you're not going to\n recognize this old world ten years\n from now.\"\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAnalog\nApril 1962.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does the  Atomic Wonder Space Wave Tapper gadget do?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_1", "options": ["It can drive itself. ", "It levitates in the air.", "It flies in the air. ", "It can detect live in outer space. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Biff stay to watch the demonstration?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_2", "options": ["He wants a job at the toy shop. ", "He wants to see if the gadget will go on sale. ", "He wants to buy the gadget for his nephew. ", "He wants to know the trick to how the gadget works."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the secret to how the gadget works?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_3", "options": ["The battery and coils power it. ", "It's real magic. ", "There is a hidden motor inside. ", "It moves on hidden strings. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are Biff’s friends so intrigued with the gadget?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_4", "options": ["They are scientists and enjoy figuring out magic tricks.", "They are bored from playing poker every week. ", "They all have children who would like the gadget. ", "They are all magicians. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What distracts Biff and his friends from continuing their poker game?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_5", "options": ["They can't figure out how to do the trick because the thread keeps breaking. ", "They get called to duty from the military. ", "The demonstrator arrives to sell more gadgets. ", "They discover that the trick only works when the power button is on. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "The inventors of the gadget are targeting who to buy it?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_6", "options": ["People with children", "Educators", "Senior citizens", "Scientists"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the demonstrator reduce the price to $3 for Biff?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_7", "options": ["Biff only had $3 in cash. ", "Biff said the gadget was only worth $1.", "He knew Biff would buy it for such a low price.", "It costs $4 to make, so he would still make a profit."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are the inventors of the gadget hoping to achieve with it?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_8", "options": ["Buyers will get other people to buy it. ", "They will get rich from selling the gadget. ", "The gadget will be used in magic shows. ", "Buyers will conduct research with the gadget. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What have the inventors of the gadget patented?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_9", "options": ["The wave generator of the gadget. ", "The coils that reduce the weight of the gadget. ", "The batteries inside the model rocket ship. ", "The propellers of the model rocket ship. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How are the inventors of the gadget hoping to get rich?", "question_unique_id": "22966_6AF3S2P3_10", "options": ["They will earn money from any inventions that use the same technology as the gadget. ", "They want to sell the gadget to children as a toy. ", "A university will fund their research through grants. ", "They want to sell the gadget to the military. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/9/6/22966//22966-h//22966-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22967", "set_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Stoker and the Stars", "year": 1965, "author": "Budrys, Algis", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "THE STOKER\n\n AND THE STARS\nBY JOHN A. SENTRY\nWhen\nyou've had your ears pinned\n back in a bowknot, it's sometimes hard\n to remember that an intelligent people\n has no respect for a whipped enemy\n ... but does for a fairly beaten enemy.\nIllustrated by van Dongen\nKnow\n him? Yes, I know\n him—\nknew\nhim. That\n was twenty years ago.\n\n\n Everybody knows\n him now. Everybody\n who passed him on the street knows\n him. Everybody who went to the same\n schools, or even to different schools\n in different towns, knows him now.\n Ask them. But I knew him. I lived\n three feet away from him for a month\n and a half. I shipped with him and\n called him by his first name.\n\n\n What was he like? What was he\n thinking, sitting on the edge of his\n bunk with his jaw in his palm and\n his eyes on the stars? What did he\n think he was after?\n\n\n Well ... Well, I think he— You\n know, I think I never did know him,\n after all. Not well. Not as well as\n some of those people who're writing\n the books about him seem to.\n\n\n I couldn't really describe him to\n you. He had a duffelbag in his hand\n and a packed airsuit on his back. The\n skin of his face had been dried out\n by ship's air, burned by ultraviolet\n and broiled by infra red. The pupils\n of his eyes had little cloudy specks in\n them where the cosmic rays had shot\n through them. But his eyes were\n steady and his body was hard. What\n did he look like? He looked like a\n man.\nIt was after the war, and we were\n beaten. There used to be a school of\n thought among us that deplored our\n combativeness; before we had ever\n met any people from off Earth, even,\n you could hear people saying we\n were toughest, cruelest life-form in\n the Universe, unfit to mingle with\n the gentler wiser races in the stars,\n and a sure bet to steal their galaxy\n and corrupt it forever. Where\n these people got their information, I\n don't know.\n\n\n We were beaten. We moved out\n beyond Centaurus, and Sirius, and\n then we met the Jeks, the Nosurwey,\n the Lud. We tried Terrestrial know-how,\n we tried Production Miracles,\n we tried patriotism, we tried damning\n the torpedoes and full speed\n ahead ... and we were smashed back\n like mayflies in the wind. We died in\n droves, and we retreated from the\n guttering fires of a dozen planets, we\n dug in, we fought through the last\n ditch, and we were dying on Earth\n itself before Baker mutinied, shot\n Cope, and surrendered the remainder\n of the human race to the wiser, gentler\n races in the stars. That way, we\n lived. That way, we were permitted\n to carry on our little concerns, and\n mind our manners. The Jeks and the\n Lud and the Nosurwey returned to\n their own affairs, and we knew they\n would leave us alone so long as we\n didn't bother them.\n\n\n We liked it that way. Understand\n me—we didn't accept it, we didn't\n knuckle under with waiting murder\n in our hearts—we\nliked\nit. We were\n grateful just to be left alone again.\n We were happy we hadn't been\n wiped out like the upstarts the rest\n of the Universe thought us to be.\n When they let us keep our own solar\n system and carry on a trickle of trade\n with the outside, we accepted it for\n the fantastically generous gift it was.\n Too many of our best men were dead\n for us to have any remaining claim\n on these things in our own right. I\n know how it was. I was there, twenty\n years ago. I was a little, pudgy\n man with short breath and a high-pitched\n voice. I was a typical Earthman.\nWe were out on a God-forsaken\n landing field on Mars, MacReidie\n and I, loading cargo aboard the\nSerenus\n. MacReidie was First Officer.\n I was Second. The stranger came\n walking up to us.\n\n\n \"Got a job?\" he asked, looking at\n MacReidie.\n\n\n Mac looked him over. He saw the\n same things I'd seen. He shook his\n head. \"Not for you. The only thing\n we're short on is stokers.\"\n\n\n You wouldn't know. There's no\n such thing as a stoker any more, with\n automatic ships. But the stranger\n knew what Mac meant.\nSerenus\nhad what they called an\n electronic drive. She had to run with\n an evacuated engine room. The leaking\n electricity would have broken any\n stray air down to ozone, which eats\n metal and rots lungs. So the engine\n room had the air pumped out of her,\n and the stokers who tended the dials\n and set the cathode attitudes had to\n wear suits, smelling themselves for\n twelve hours at a time and standing\n a good chance of cooking where they\n sat when the drive arced.\nSerenus\nwas\n an ugly old tub. At that, we were the\n better of the two interstellar freighters\n the human race had left.\n\n\n \"You're bound over the border,\n aren't you?\"\n\n\n MacReidie nodded. \"That's right.\n But—\"\n\n\n \"I'll stoke.\"\n\n\n MacReidie looked over toward me\n and frowned. I shrugged my shoulders\n helplessly. I was a little afraid\n of the stranger, too.\n\n\n The trouble was the look of him.\n It was the look you saw in the bars\n back on Earth, where the veterans of\n the war sat and stared down into\n their glasses, waiting for night to\n fall so they could go out into the\n alleys and have drunken fights among\n themselves. But he had brought that\n look to Mars, to the landing field,\n and out here there was something\n disquieting about it.\n\n\n He'd caught Mac's look and turned\n his head to me. \"I'll stoke,\" he repeated.\n\n\n I didn't know what to say. MacReidie\n and I—almost all of the men\n in the Merchant Marine—hadn't\n served in the combat arms. We had\n freighted supplies, and we had seen\n ships dying on the runs—we'd had\n our own brushes with commerce raiders,\n and we'd known enough men\n who joined the combat forces. But\n very few of the men came back, and\n the war this man had fought hadn't\n been the same as ours. He'd commanded\n a fighting ship, somewhere,\n and come to grips with things we\n simply didn't know about. The mark\n was on him, but not on us. I couldn't\n meet his eyes. \"O.K. by me,\" I mumbled\n at last.\n\n\n I saw MacReidie's mouth turn\n down at the corners. But he couldn't\n gainsay the man any more than I\n could. MacReidie wasn't a mumbling\n man, so he said angrily: \"O.K.,\n bucko, you'll stoke. Go and sign on.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks.\" The stranger walked\n quietly away. He wrapped a hand\n around the cable on a cargo hook and\n rode into the hold on top of some\n freight. Mac spat on the ground and\n went back to supervising his end of\n the loading. I was busy with mine,\n and it wasn't until we'd gotten the\nSerenus\nloaded and buttoned up that\n Mac and I even spoke to each other\n again. Then we talked about the trip.\n We didn't talk about the stranger.\nDaniels, the Third, had signed him\n on and had moved him into the empty\n bunk above mine. We slept all in\n a bunch on the\nSerenus\n—officers and\n crew. Even so, we had to sleep in\n shifts, with the ship's designers giving\n ninety per cent of her space to\n cargo, and eight per cent to power\n and control. That left very little for\n the people, who were crammed in\n any way they could be. I said empty\n bunk. What I meant was, empty during\n my sleep shift. That meant he\n and I'd be sharing work shifts—me\n up in the control blister, parked in\n a soft chair, and him down in the\n engine room, broiling in a suit for\n twelve hours.\n\n\n But I ate with him, used the head\n with him; you can call that rubbing\n elbows with greatness, if you want to.\n\n\n He was a very quiet man. Quiet in\n the way he moved and talked. When\n we were both climbing into our\n bunks, that first night, I introduced\n myself and he introduced himself.\n Then he heaved himself into his\n bunk, rolled over on his side, fixed\n his straps, and fell asleep. He was\n always friendly toward me, but he\n must have been very tired that first\n night. I often wondered what kind\n of a life he'd lived after the war—what\n he'd done that made him different\n from the men who simply\n grew older in the bars. I wonder,\n now, if he really did do anything\n different. In an odd way, I like to\n think that one day, in a bar, on a\n day that seemed like all the rest to\n him when it began, he suddenly looked\n up with some new thought, put\n down his glass, and walked straight\n to the Earth-Mars shuttle field.\n\n\n He might have come from any\n town on Earth. Don't believe the historians\n too much. Don't pay too much\n attention to the Chamber of Commerce\n plaques. When a man's name\n becomes public property, strange\n things happen to the facts.\nIt was MacReidie who first found\n out what he'd done during the war.\n\n\n I've got to explain about MacReidie.\n He takes his opinions fast\n and strong. He's a good man—is, or\n was; I haven't seen him for a long\n while—but he liked things simple.\n\n\n MacReidie said the duffelbag broke\n loose and floated into the middle of\n the bunkroom during acceleration.\n He opened it to see whose it was.\n When he found out, he closed it up\n and strapped it back in its place at\n the foot of the stoker's bunk.\n\n\n MacReidie was my relief on the\n bridge. When he came up, he didn't\n relieve me right away. He stood next\n to my chair and looked out through\n the ports.\n\n\n \"Captain leave any special instructions\n in the Order Book?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Just the usual. Keep a tight watch\n and proceed cautiously.\"\n\n\n \"That new stoker,\" Mac said.\n\n\n \"Yeah?\"\n\n\n \"I knew there was something\n wrong with him. He's got an old\n Marine uniform in his duffel.\"\n\n\n I didn't say anything. Mac glanced\n over at me. \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know.\" I didn't.\n\n\n I couldn't say I was surprised. It\n had to be something like that, about\n the stoker. The mark was on him, as\n I've said.\n\n\n It was the Marines that did Earth's\n best dying. It had to be. They were\n trained to be the best we had, and\n they believed in their training. They\n were the ones who slashed back the\n deepest when the other side hit us.\n They were the ones who sallied out\n into the doomed spaces between the\n stars and took the war to the other\n side as well as any human force could\n ever hope to. They were always the\n last to leave an abandoned position.\n If Earth had been giving medals to\n members of her forces in the war,\n every man in the Corps would have\n had the Medal of Honor two and\n three times over. Posthumously. I\n don't believe there were ten of them\n left alive when Cope was shot. Cope\n was one of them. They were a kind\n of human being neither MacReidie\n nor I could hope to understand.\n\n\n \"You don't know,\" Mac said. \"It's\n there. In his duffel. Damn it, we're\n going out to trade with his sworn\n enemies! Why do you suppose he\n wanted to sign on? Why do you suppose\n he's so eager to go!\"\n\n\n \"You think he's going to try to\n start something?\"\n\n\n \"Think! That's exactly what he's\n going for. One last big alley fight.\n One last brawl. When they cut him\n down—do you suppose they'll stop\n with him? They'll kill us, and then\n they'll go in and stamp Earth flat!\n You know it as well as I do.\"\n\n\n \"I don't know, Mac,\" I said. \"Go\n easy.\" I could feel the knots in my\n stomach. I didn't want any trouble.\n Not from the stoker, not from Mac.\n None of us wanted trouble—not\n even Mac, but he'd cause it to get\n rid of it, if you follow what I mean\n about his kind of man.\n\n\n Mac hit the viewport with his fist.\n \"Easy! Easy—nothing's easy. I hate\n this life,\" he said in a murderous\n voice. \"I don't know why I keep\n signing on. Mars to Centaurus and\n back, back and forth, in an old rust\n tub that's going to blow herself up\n one of these—\"\nDaniels called me on the phone\n from Communications. \"Turn up\n your Intercom volume,\" he said.\n \"The stoker's jamming the circuit.\"\n\n\n I kicked the selector switch over,\n and this is what I got:\n\n\n \"\n—so there we were at a million\n per, and the air was gettin' thick. The\n Skipper says 'Cheer up, brave boys,\n we'll—'\n\"\n\n\n He was singing. He had a terrible\n voice, but he could carry a tune, and\n he was hammering it out at the top\n of his lungs.\n\n\n \"\nTwas the last cruise of the\nVenus,\nby God you should of seen us! The\n pipes were full of whisky, and just\n to make things risky, the jets\n were ...\n\"\n\n\n The crew were chuckling into their\n own chest phones. I could hear Daniels\n trying to cut him off. But he\n kept going. I started laughing myself.\n No one's supposed to jam an\n intercom, but it made the crew feel\n good. When the crew feels good, the\n ship runs right, and it had been a\n long time since they'd been happy.\n\n\n He went on for another twenty\n minutes. Then his voice thinned out,\n and I heard him cough a little.\n \"Daniels,\" he said, \"get a relief\n down here for me.\nJump to it!\n\" He\n said the last part in a Master's voice.\n Daniels didn't ask questions. He sent\n a man on his way down.\n\n\n He'd been singing, the stoker had.\n He'd been singing while he worked\n with one arm dead, one sleeve ripped\n open and badly patched because the\n fabric was slippery with blood.\n There'd been a flashover in the drivers.\n By the time his relief got down\n there, he had the insulation back on,\n and the drive was purring along the\n way it should have been. It hadn't\n even missed a beat.\n\n\n He went down to sick bay, got the\n arm wrapped, and would have gone\n back on shift if Daniels'd let him.\n\n\n Those of us who were going off\n shift found him toying with the\n theremin in the mess compartment.\n He didn't know how to play it, and\n it sounded like a dog howling.\n\n\n \"Sing, will you!\" somebody yelled.\n He grinned and went back to the\n \"Good Ship\nVenus\n.\" It wasn't good,\n but it was loud. From that, we went\n to \"Starways, Farways, and Barways,\"\n and \"The Freefall Song.\" Somebody\n started \"I Left Her Behind For You,\"\n and that got us off into sentimental\n things, the way these sessions would\n sometimes wind up when spacemen\n were far from home. But not since\n the war, we all seemed to realize together.\n We stopped, and looked at\n each other, and we all began drifting\n out of the mess compartment.\n\n\n And maybe it got to him, too. It\n may explain something. He and I\n were the last to leave. We went to\n the bunkroom, and he stopped in the\n middle of taking off his shirt. He\n stood there, looking out the porthole,\n and forgot I was there. I heard him\n reciting something, softly, under his\n breath, and I stepped a little closer.\n This is what it was:\n\n\"\nThe rockets rise against the skies,\nSlowly; in sunlight gleaming\nWith silver hue upon the blue.\nAnd the universe waits, dreaming.\n\"\nFor men must go where the flame-winds blow,\nThe gas clouds softly plaiting;\nWhere stars are spun and worlds begun,\nAnd men will find them waiting.\n\"\nThe song that roars where the rocket soars\nIs the song of the stellar flame;\nThe dreams of Man and galactic span\nAre equal and much the same.\n\"\n \n\n What was he thinking of? Make\n your own choice. I think I came close\n to knowing him, at that moment, but\n until human beings turn telepath, no\n man can be sure of another.\n\n\n He shook himself like a dog out\n of cold water, and got into his bunk.\n I got into mine, and after a while\n I fell asleep.\nI don't know what MacReidie may\n have told the skipper about the stoker,\n or if he tried to tell him anything.\n The captain was the senior ticket\n holder in the Merchant Service, and\n a good man, in his day. He kept\n mostly to his cabin. And there was\n nothing MacReidie could do on his\n own authority—nothing simple, that\n is. And the stoker had saved the\n ship, and ...\n\n\n I think what kept anything from\n happening between MacReidie and\n the stoker, or anyone else and the\n stoker, was that it would have meant\n trouble in the ship. Trouble, confined\n to our little percentage of the ship's\n volume, could seem like something\n much more important than the fate\n of the human race. It may not seem\n that way to you. But as long as no\n one began anything, we could all get\n along. We could have a good trip.\n\n\n MacReidie worried, I'm sure. I\n worried, sometimes. But nothing\n happened.\n\n\n When we reached Alpha Centaurus,\n and set down at the trading field\n on the second planet, it was the same\n as the other trips we'd made, and the\n same kind of landfall. The Lud factor\n came out of his post after we'd\n waited for a while, and gave us our\n permit to disembark. There was a Jek\n ship at the other end of the field,\n loaded with the cargo we would get\n in exchange for our holdful of\n goods. We had the usual things;\n wine, music tapes, furs, and the like.\n The Jeks had been giving us light\n machinery lately—probably we'd get\n two or three more loads, and then\n they'd begin giving us something\n else.\n\n\n But I found that this trip wasn't\n quite the same. I found myself looking\n at the factor's post, and I realized\n for the first time that the Lud hadn't\n built it. It was a leftover from the\n old colonial human government. And\n the city on the horizon—men had\n built it; the touch of our architecture\n was on every building. I wondered\n why it had never occurred to me that\n this was so. It made the landfall different\n from all the others, somehow.\n It gave a new face to the entire\n planet.\nMac and I and some of the other\n crewmen went down on the field to\n handle the unloading. Jeks on self-propelled\n cargo lifts jockeyed among\n us, scooping up the loads as we unhooked\n the slings, bringing cases of\n machinery from their own ship. They\n sat atop their vehicles, lean and\n aloof, dashing in, whirling, shooting\n across the field to their ship and\n back like wild horsemen on the plains\n of Earth, paying us no notice.\n\n\n We were almost through when\n Mac suddenly grabbed my arm.\n \"Look!\"\n\n\n The stoker was coming down on\n one of the cargo slings. He stood\n upright, his booted feet planted wide,\n one arm curled up over his head and\n around the hoist cable. He was in his\n dusty brown Marine uniform, the\n scarlet collar tabs bright as blood at\n his throat, his major's insignia glittering\n at his shoulders, the battle\n stripes on his sleeves.\n\n\n The Jeks stopped their lifts. They\n knew that uniform. They sat up in\n their saddles and watched him come\n down. When the sling touched the\n ground, he jumped off quietly and\n walked toward the nearest Jek. They\n all followed him with their eyes.\n\n\n \"We've got to stop him,\" Mac\n said, and both of us started toward\n him. His hands were both in plain\n sight, one holding his duffelbag,\n which was swelled out with the bulk\n of his airsuit. He wasn't carrying a\n weapon of any kind. He was walking\n casually, taking his time.\n\n\n Mac and I had almost reached him\n when a Jek with insignia on his\n coveralls suddenly jumped down\n from his lift and came forward to\n meet him. It was an odd thing to\n see—the stoker, and the Jek, who\n did not stand as tall. MacReidie and\n I stepped back.\n\n\n The Jek was coal black, his scales\n glittering in the cold sunlight, his\n hatchet-face inscrutable. He stopped\n when the stoker was a few paces\n away. The stoker stopped, too. All\n the Jeks were watching him and paying\n no attention to anything else. The\n field might as well have been empty\n except for those two.\n\n\n \"They'll kill him. They'll kill him\n right now,\" MacReidie whispered.\n\n\n They ought to have. If I'd been\n a Jek, I would have thought that uniform\n was a death warrant. But the\n Jek spoke to him:\n\n\n \"Are you entitled to wear that?\"\n\n\n \"I was at this planet in '39. I was\n closer to your home world the year\n before that,\" the stoker said. \"I was\n captain of a destroyer. If I'd had a\n cruiser's range, I would have reached\n it.\" He looked at the Jek. \"Where\n were you?\"\n\n\n \"I was here when you were.\"\n\n\n \"I want to speak to your ship's\n captain.\"\n\n\n \"All right. I'll drive you over.\"\n\n\n The stoker nodded, and they walked\n over to his vehicle together. They\n drove away, toward the Jek ship.\n\n\n \"All right, let's get back to work,\"\n another Jek said to MacReidie and\n myself, and we went back to unloading\n cargo.\nThe stoker came back to our ship\n that night, without his duffelbag. He\n found me and said:\n\n\n \"I'm signing off the ship. Going\n with the Jeks.\"\n\n\n MacReidie was with me. He said\n loudly: \"What do you mean, you're\n going with the Jeks?\"\n\n\n \"I signed on their ship,\" the stoker\n said. \"Stoking. They've got a micro-nuclear\n drive. It's been a while since\n I worked with one, but I think I'll\n make out all right, even with the\n screwball way they've got it set up.\"\n\n\n \"Huh?\"\n\n\n The stoker shrugged. \"Ships are\n ships, and physics is physics, no matter\n where you go. I'll make out.\"\n\n\n \"What kind of a deal did you\n make with them? What do you think\n you're up to?\"\n\n\n The stoker shook his head. \"No\n deal. I signed on as a crewman. I'll\n do a crewman's work for a crewman's\n wages. I thought I'd wander around a\n while. It ought to be interesting,\" he\n said.\n\n\n \"On a Jek ship.\"\n\n\n \"Anybody's ship. When I get to\n their home world, I'll probably ship\n out with some people from farther\n on. Why not? It's honest work.\"\n\n\n MacReidie had no answer to that.\n\n\n \"But—\" I said.\n\n\n \"What?\" He looked at me as if\n he couldn't understand what might\n be bothering me, but I think perhaps\n he could.\n\n\n \"Nothing,\" I said, and that was\n that, except MacReidie was always a\n sourer man from that time up to as\n long as I knew him afterwards. We\n took off in the morning. The stoker\n had already left on the Jek ship, and\n it turned out he'd trained an apprentice\n boy to take his place.\nIt was strange how things became\n different for us, little by little after\n that. It was never anything you could\n put your finger on, but the Jeks began\n taking more goods, and giving us\n things we needed when we told them\n we wanted them. After a while,\nSerenus\nwas going a little deeper into\n Jek territory, and when she wore out,\n the two replacements let us trade with\n the Lud, too. Then it was the Nosurwey,\n and other people beyond them,\n and things just got better for us,\n somehow.\n\n\n We heard about our stoker, occasionally.\n He shipped with the Lud,\n and the Nosurwey, and some people\n beyond them, getting along, going to\n all kinds of places. Pay no attention\n to the precise red lines you see on the\n star maps; nobody knows exactly\n what path he wandered from people\n to people. Nobody could. He just\n kept signing on with whatever ship\n was going deeper into the galaxy,\n going farther and farther. He messed\n with green shipmates and blue ones.\n One and two and three heads, tails,\n six legs—after all, ships are ships\n and they've all got to have something\n to push them along. If a man knows\n his business, why not? A man can\n live on all kinds of food, if he wants\n to get used to it. And any nontoxic\n atmosphere will do, as long as there's\n enough oxygen in it.\n\n\n I don't know what he did, to make\n things so much better for us. I don't\n know if he did anything, but stoke\n their ships and, I suppose, fix them\n when they were in trouble. I wonder\n if he sang dirty songs in that bad\n voice of his, to people who couldn't\n possibly understand what the songs\n were about. All I know is, for some\n reason those people slowly began\n treating us with respect. We changed,\n too, I think—I'm not the same man\n I was ... I think—not altogether\n the same; I'm a captain now, with\n master's papers, and you won't find\n me in my cabin very often ... there's\n a kind of joy in standing on a bridge,\n looking out at the stars you're moving\n toward. I wonder if it mightn't\n have kept my old captain out of that\n place he died in, finally, if he'd tried\n it.\n\n\n So, I don't know. The older I get,\n the less I know. The thing people remember\n the stoker for—the thing\n that makes him famous, and, I think,\n annoys him—I'm fairly sure is only\n incidental to what he really did. If he\n did anything. If he meant to. I wish\n I could be sure of the exact answer\n he found in the bottom of that last\n glass at the bar before he worked his\n passage to Mars and the\nSerenus\n, and\n began it all.\n\n\n So, I can't say what he ought to be\n famous for. But I suppose it's enough\n to know for sure that he was the first\n living being ever to travel all the way\n around the galaxy.\nTHE END\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAstounding Science Fiction\nFebruary\n 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "According to the narrator, who started the inter-galactic war?", "question_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI_1", "options": ["The Jeks", "The Lud", "The Nosurwey", "People from Earth"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Serenus?", "question_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI_2", "options": ["A galaxy", "A planet", "A spaceship", "An alien race"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the stoker do on the ship to ease the tension?", "question_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI_3", "options": ["He keeps to himself. ", "He recites poetry. ", "He sings. ", "He jokes with the crew. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship between the stoker and the narrator?", "question_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI_4", "options": ["They worked together for 6 weeks. ", "They fought in the war together. ", "They met in a bar on Earth. ", "The narrator was the stoker's boss. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is it significant that the stoker has a Marine uniform?", "question_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI_5", "options": ["The surviving Marines spent most of their time in bars. Mac is worried that the stoker is not mentally stable. ", "The Marines were hit the hardest during the war and most of them died. Mac is worried that the stoker may want revenge. ", "The narrator realizes he fought with the stoker in the same unit. ", "Mac realizes he fought with the stoker in the same unit. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which word does NOT describe the stoker's character?", "question_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI_6", "options": ["Hard working", "Resilient", "Aggressive", "Quiet"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a theme of the story?", "question_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI_7", "options": ["Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. ", "War changes people. ", "The effects of war last through generations. ", "Simple actions can mend deep conflict. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0043", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "In the beginning of the story, what is the relationship between the humans and the alien races?", "question_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI_8", "options": ["The aliens are distrustful of the humans, but leave them alone in a truce. ", "The humans are allies with the Jeks against the Lud and the Nosurwey. ", "They are at war. ", "The aliens rule the humans. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "In the end, what is the relationship between the humans and the alien races?", "question_unique_id": "22967_0XT2L7PI_9", "options": ["The relationship is hostile.", "The relationship is cordial. ", "There is no more communication between the species. ", "The species live in communities together. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/9/6/22967//22967-h//22967-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "23104", "set_unique_id": "23104_4MQFQVNM", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Blue Tower", "year": 1961, "author": "Smith, Evelyn E.", "topic": "PS; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "THE\n\n BLUE\n\n TOWER\nBy EVELYN E. SMITH\nAs the vastly advanced guardians of mankind, the Belphins knew how to make a lesson stick—but whom?\nIllustrated by DICK FRANCIS\nTranscriber's Note:\n This etext was produced from Galaxy, February, 1958. Extensive research did not reveal any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\n\n\n Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Ludovick Eversole sat in the golden sunshine outside his house, writing a poem as he watched the street flow gently past him. There were very few people on it, for he lived in a slow part of town, and those who went in for travel generally preferred streets where the pace was quicker.\n\n\n Moreover, on a sultry spring afternoon like this one, there would be few people wandering abroad. Most would be lying on sun-kissed white beaches or in sun-drenched parks, or, for those who did not fancy being either kissed or drenched by the sun, basking in the comfort of their own air-conditioned villas.\n\n\n Some would, like Ludovick, be writing poems; others composing symphonies; still others painting pictures. Those who were without creative talent or the inclination to indulge it would be relaxing their well-kept golden bodies in whatever surroundings they had chosen to spend this particular one of the perfect days that stretched in an unbroken line before every member of the human race from the cradle to the crematorium.\n\n\n Only the Belphins were much in evidence. Only the Belphins had duties to perform. Only the Belphins worked.\n\n\n Ludovick stretched his own well-kept golden body and rejoiced in the knowing that he was a man and not a Belphin. Immediately afterward, he was sorry for the heartless thought. Didn't the Belphins work only to serve humanity? How ungrateful, then, it was to gloat over them! Besides, he comforted himself, probably, if the truth were known, the Belphins\nliked\nto work. He hailed a passing Belphin for assurance on this point.\n\n\n Courteous, like all members of his species, the creature leaped from the street and listened attentively to the young man's question. \"We Belphins have but one like and one dislike,\" he replied. \"We like what is right and we dislike what is wrong.\"\n\n\n \"But how can you tell what is right and what is wrong?\" Ludovick persisted.\n\n\n \"We\nknow\n,\" the Belphin said, gazing reverently across the city to the blue spire of the tower where The Belphin of Belphins dwelt, in constant communication with every member of his race at all times, or so they said. \"That is why we were placed in charge of humanity. Someday you, too, may advance to the point where you\nknow\n, and we shall return whence we came.\"\n\n\n \"But\nwho\nplaced you in charge,\" Ludovick asked, \"and whence\ndid\nyou come?\" Fearing he might seem motivated by vulgar curiosity, he explained, \"I am doing research for an epic poem.\"\nA lifetime spent under their gentle guardianship had made Ludovick able to interpret the expression that flitted across this Belphin's frontispiece as a sad, sweet smile.\n\n\n \"We come from beyond the stars,\" he said. Ludovick already knew that; he had hoped for something a little more specific. \"We were placed in power by those who had the right. And the power through which we rule is the power of love! Be happy!\"\n\n\n And with that conventional farewell (which also served as a greeting), he stepped onto the sidewalk and was borne off. Ludovick looked after him pensively for a moment, then shrugged. Why\nshould\nthe Belphins surrender their secrets to gratify the idle curiosity of a poet?\n\n\n Ludovick packed his portable scriptwriter in its case and went to call on the girl next door, whom he loved with a deep and intermittently requited passion.\n\n\n As he passed between the tall columns leading into the Flockhart courtyard, he noted with regret that there were quite a number of Corisande's relatives present, lying about sunning themselves and sipping beverages which probably touched the legal limit of intoxicatability.\n\n\n Much as he hated to think harshly of anyone, he did not like Corisande Flockhart's relatives. He had never known anybody who had as many relatives as she did, and sometimes he suspected they were not all related to her. Then he would dismiss the thought as unworthy of him or any right-thinking human being. He loved Corisande for herself alone and not for her family. Whether they were actually her family or not was none of his business.\n\n\n \"Be happy!\" he greeted the assemblage cordially, sitting down beside Corisande on the tessellated pavement.\n\n\n \"Bah!\" said old Osmond Flockhart, Corisande's grandfather. Ludovick was sure that, underneath his crustiness, the gnarled patriarch hid a heart of gold. Although he had been mining assiduously, the young man had not yet been able to strike that vein; however, he did not give up hope, for not giving up hope was one of the principles that his wise old Belphin teacher had inculcated in him. Other principles were to lead the good life and keep healthy.\n\n\n \"Now, Grandfather,\" Corisande said, \"no matter what your politics, that does not excuse impoliteness.\"\n\n\n Ludovick wished she would not allude so blatantly to politics, because he had a lurking notion that Corisande's \"family\" was, in fact, a band of conspirators ... such as still dotted the green and pleasant planet and proved by their existence that Man was not advancing anywhere within measurable distance of that totality of knowledge implied by the Belphin.\n\n\n You could tell malcontents, even if they did not voice their dissatisfactions, by their faces. The vast majority of the human race, living good and happy lives, had smooth and pleasant faces. Malcontents' faces were lined and sometimes, in extreme cases, furrowed. Everyone could easily tell who they were by looking at them, and most people avoided them.\nIt was not that griping was illegal, for the Belphins permitted free speech and reasonable conspiracy; it was that such behavior was considered ungenteel. Ludovick would never have dreamed of associating with this set of neighbors, once he had discovered their tendencies, had he not lost his heart to the purple-eyed Corisande at their first meeting.\n\n\n \"Politeness, bah!\" old Osmond said. \"To see a healthy young man simply—simply accepting the status quo!\"\n\n\n \"If the status quo is a good status quo,\" Ludovick said uneasily, for he did not like to discuss such subjects, \"why should I not accept it? We have everything we could possibly want. What do we lack?\"\n\n\n \"Our freedom,\" Osmond retorted.\n\n\n \"But we\nare\nfree,\" Ludovick said, perplexed. \"We can say what we like, do what we like, so long as it is consonant with the public good.\"\n\n\n \"Ah, but who determines what is consonant with the public good?\"\n\n\n Ludovick could no longer temporize with truth, even for Corisande's sake. \"Look here, old man, I have read books. I know about the old days before the Belphins came from the stars. Men were destroying themselves quickly through wars, or slowly through want. There is none of that any more.\"\n\n\n \"All lies and exaggeration,\" old Osmond said. \"\nMy\ngrandfather told me that, when the Belphins took over Earth, they rewrote all the textbooks to suit their own purposes. Now nothing but Belphin propaganda is taught in the schools.\"\n\n\n \"But surely some of what they teach about the past must be true,\" Ludovick insisted. \"And today every one of us has enough to eat and drink, a place to live, beautiful garments to wear, and all the time in the world to utilize as he chooses in all sorts of pleasant activities. What is missing?\"\n\n\n \"They've taken away our frontiers!\"\n\n\n Behind his back, Corisande made a little filial face at Ludovick.\n\n\n Ludovick tried to make the old man see reason. \"But I'm happy. And everybody is happy, except—except a few\nkilljoys\nlike you.\"\n\n\n \"They certainly did a good job of brainwashing you, boy,\" Osmond sighed. \"And of most of the young ones,\" he added mournfully. \"With each succeeding generation, more of our heritage is lost.\" He patted the girl's hand. \"You're a good girl, Corrie. You don't hold with this being cared for like some damn pet poodle.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind Osmond, Eversole,\" one of Corisande's alleged uncles grinned. \"He talks a lot, but of course he doesn't mean a quarter of what he says. Come, have some wine.\"\nHe handed a glass to Ludovick. Ludovick sipped and coughed. It tasted as if it were well above the legal alcohol limit, but he didn't like to say anything. They were taking an awful risk, though, doing a thing like that. If they got caught, they might receive a public scolding—which was, of course, no more than they deserved—but he could not bear to think of Corisande exposed to such an ordeal.\n\n\n \"It's only reasonable,\" the uncle went on, \"that older people should have a—a thing about being governed by foreigners.\"\n\n\n Ludovick smiled and set his nearly full glass down on a plinth. \"You could hardly call the Belphins foreigners; they've been on Earth longer than even the oldest of us.\"\n\n\n \"You seem to be pretty chummy with 'em,\" the uncle said, looking narrow-eyed at Ludovick.\n\n\n \"No more so than any other loyal citizen,\" Ludovick replied.\n\n\n The uncle sat up and wrapped his arms around his thick bare legs. He was a powerful, hairy brute of a creature who had not taken advantage of the numerous cosmetic techniques offered by the benevolent Belphins. \"Don't you think it's funny they can breathe our air so easily?\"\n\n\n \"Why shouldn't they?\" Ludovick bit into an apple that Corisande handed him from one of the dishes of fruit and other delicacies strewn about the courtyard. \"It's excellent air,\" he continued through a full mouth, \"especially now that it's all purified. I understand that in the old days——\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" the uncle said, \"but don't you think it's a coincidence they breathe exactly the same kind of air we do, considering they claim to come from another solar system?\"\n\n\n \"No coincidence at all,\" said Ludovick shortly, no longer able to pretend he didn't know what the other was getting at. He had heard the ugly rumor before. Of course sacrilege was not illegal, but it was in bad taste. \"Only one combination of elements spawns intelligent life.\"\n\n\n \"They say,\" the uncle continued, impervious to Ludovick's unconcealed dislike for the subject, \"that there's really only one Belphin, who lives in the Blue Tower—in a tank or something, because he can't breathe our atmosphere—and that the others are a sort of robot he sends out to do his work for him.\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense!\" Ludovick was goaded to irritation at last. \"How could a robot have that delicate play of expression, that subtle economy of movement?\"\n\n\n Corisande and the uncle exchanged glances. \"But they are absolutely blank,\" the uncle began hesitantly. \"Perhaps, with your rich poetic imagination....\"\n\n\n \"See?\" old Osmond remarked with satisfaction. \"The kid's brain-washed. I told you so.\"\n\"Even if The Belphin is a single entity,\" Ludovick went on, \"that doesn't necessarily make him less benevolent——\"\n\n\n He was again interrupted by the grandfather. \"I won't listen to any more of this twaddle. Benevolent, bah! He or she or it or them is or are just plain exploiting us! Taking our mineral resources away—I've seen 'em loading ore on the spaceships—and——\"\n\n\n \"—and exchanging it for other resources from the stars,\" Ludovick said tightly, \"without which we could not have the perfectly balanced society we have today. Without which we would be, technologically, back in the dark ages from which they rescued us.\"\n\n\n \"It's not the stuff they bring in from outside that runs this technology,\" the uncle said. \"It's some power they've got that we can't seem to figure out. Though Lord knows we've tried,\" he added musingly.\n\n\n \"Of course they have their own source of power,\" Ludovick informed them, smiling to himself, for his old Belphin teacher had taken great care to instill a sense of humor into him. \"A Belphin was explaining that to me only today.\"\n\n\n Twenty heads swiveled toward him. He felt uncomfortable, for he was a modest young man and did not like to be the cynosure of all eyes.\n\n\n \"Tell us, dear boy,\" the uncle said, grabbing Ludovick's glass from the plinth and filling it, \"what exactly did he say?\"\n\n\n \"He said the Belphins rule through the power of love.\"\n\n\n The glass crashed to the tesserae as the uncle uttered a very unworthy word.\n\n\n \"And I suppose it was love that killed Mieczyslaw and George when they tried to storm the Blue Tower——\" old Osmond began, then halted at the looks he was getting from everybody.\n\n\n Ludovick could no longer pretend his neighbors were a group of eccentrics whom he himself was eccentric enough to regard as charming.\n\n\n \"So!\" He stood up and wrapped his mantle about him. \"I knew you were against the government, and, of course, you have a legal right to disagree with its policies, but I didn't think you were actual—actual—\" he dredged a word up out of his schooldays—\"\nanarchists\n.\"\nHe turned to the girl, who was looking thoughtful as she stroked the glittering jewel that always hung at her neck. \"Corisande, how can you stay with these—\" he found another word—\"these\nsubversives\n?\"\n\n\n She smiled sadly. \"Don't forget: they're my family, Ludovick, and I owe them dutiful respect, no matter how pig-headed they are.\" She pressed his hand. \"But don't give up hope.\"\n\n\n That rang a bell inside his brain. \"I won't,\" he vowed, giving her hand a return squeeze. \"I promise I won't.\"\nOutside the Flockhart villa, he paused, struggling with his inner self. It was an unworthy thing to inform upon one's neighbors; on the other hand, could he stand idly by and let those neighbors attempt to destroy the social order? Deciding that the greater good was the more important—and that, moreover, it was the only way of taking Corisande away from all this—he went in search of a Belphin. That is, he waited until one glided past and called to him to leave the walk.\n\n\n \"I wish to report a conspiracy at No. 7 Mimosa Lane,\" he said. \"The girl is innocent, but the others are in it to the hilt.\"\n\n\n The Belphin appeared to think for a minute. Then he gave off a smile. \"Oh, them,\" he said. \"We know. They are harmless.\"\n\n\n \"Harmless!\" Ludovick repeated. \"Why, I understand they've already tried to—to attack the Blue Tower by\nforce\n!\"\n\n\n \"Quite. And failed. For we are protected from hostile forces, as you were told earlier, by the power of love.\"\n\n\n Ludovick knew, of course, that the Belphin used the word\nlove\nmetaphorically, that the Tower was protected by a series of highly efficient barriers of force to repel attackers—barriers which, he realized now, from the sad fate of Mieczyslaw and George, were potentially lethal. However, he did not blame the Belphin for being so cagy about his race's source of power, not with people like the Flockharts running about subverting and whatnot.\n\n\n \"You certainly do have a wonderful intercommunication system,\" he murmured.\n\n\n \"Everything about us is wonderful,\" the Belphin said noncommittally. \"That's why we're so good to you people. Be happy!\" And he was off.\n\n\n But Ludovick could not be happy. He wasn't precisely sad yet, but he was thoughtful. Of course the Belphins knew better than he did, but still.... Perhaps they underestimated the seriousness of the Flockhart conspiracy. On the other hand, perhaps it was he who was taking the Flockharts too seriously. Maybe he should investigate further before doing anything rash.\n\n\n Later that night, he slipped over to the Flockhart villa and nosed about in the courtyard until he found the window behind which the family was conspiring. He peered through a chink in the curtains, so he could both see and hear.\n\n\n Corisande was saying, \"And so I think there is a lot in what Ludovick said....\"\n\n\n Bless her, he thought emotionally. Even in the midst of her plotting, she had time to spare a kind word for him. And then it hit him:\nshe, too, was a plotter\n.\n\n\n \"You suggest that we try to turn the power of love against the Belphins?\" the uncle asked ironically.\n\n\n Corisande gave a rippling laugh as she twirled her glittering pendant. \"In a manner of speaking,\" she said. \"I have an idea for a secret weapon which might do the trick——\"\nAt that moment, Ludovick stumbled over a jug which some careless relative had apparently left lying about the courtyard. It crashed to the tesserae, spattering Ludovick's legs and sandals with a liquid which later proved to be extremely red wine.\n\n\n \"There's someone outside!\" the uncle declared, half-rising.\n\n\n \"Nonsense!\" Corisande said, putting her hand on his shoulder. \"I didn't hear anything.\"\n\n\n The uncle looked dubious, and Ludovick thought it prudent to withdraw at this point. Besides, he had heard enough. Corisande—his Corisande—was an integral part of the conspiracy.\n\n\n He lay down to sleep that night beset by doubts. If he told the Belphins about the conspiracy, he would be betraying Corisande. As a matter of fact, he now remembered, he\nhad\nalready told them about the conspiracy and they hadn't believed him. But supposing he could\nconvince\nthem, how could he give Corisande up to them? True, it was the right thing to do—but, for the first time in his life, he could not bring himself to do what he knew to be right. He was weak, weak—and weakness was sinful. His old Belphin teacher had taught him that, too.\n\n\n As Ludovick writhed restlessly upon his bed, he became aware that someone had come into his chamber.\n\n\n \"Ludovick,\" a soft, beloved voice whispered, \"I have come to ask your help....\" It was so dark, he could not see her; he knew where she was only by the glitter of the jewel on her neck-chain as it arced through the blackness.\n\n\n \"Corisande....\" he breathed.\n\n\n \"Ludovick....\" she sighed.\n\n\n Now that the amenities were over, she resumed, \"Against my will, I have been involved in the family plot. My uncle has invented a secret weapon which he believes will counteract the power of the barriers.\"\n\n\n \"But I thought you devised it!\"\n\n\n \"So it\nwas\nyou in the courtyard. Well, what happened was I wanted to gain time, so I said I had a secret weapon of my own invention which I had not perfected, but which would cost considerably less than my uncle's model. We have to watch the budget, you know, because we can hardly expect the Belphins to supply the components for this job. Anyhow, I thought that, while my folks were waiting for me to finish it, you would have a chance to warn the Belphins.\"\n\n\n \"Corisande,\" he murmured, \"you are as noble and clever as you are beautiful.\"\nThen he caught the full import of her remarks. \"\nMe!\nBut they won't pay any attention to me!\"\n\n\n \"How do you know?\" When he remained silent, she said, \"I suppose you've already tried to warn them about us.\"\n\n\n \"I—I said\nyou\nhad nothing to do with the plot.\"\n\n\n \"That was good of you.\" She continued in a warmer tone: \"How many Belphins did you warn, then?\"\n\n\n \"Just one. When you tell one something, you tell them all. You know that. Everyone knows that.\"\n\n\n \"That's just theory,\" she said. \"It's never been proven. All we do know is that they have some sort of central clearing house of information, presumably The Belphin of Belphins. But we don't know that they are incapable of thinking or acting individually. We don't really know much about them at all; they're very secretive.\"\n\n\n \"Aloof,\" he corrected her, \"as befits a ruling race. But always affable.\"\n\n\n \"You must warn as many Belphins as you can.\"\n\n\n \"And if none listens to me?\"\n\n\n \"Then,\" she said dramatically, \"you must approach The Belphin of Belphins himself.\"\n\n\n \"But no human being has ever come near him!\" he said plaintively. \"You know that all those who have tried perished. And that can't be a rumor, because your grandfather said——\"\n\n\n \"But they came to\nattack\nThe Belphin. You're coming to\nwarn\nhim! That makes a big difference. Ludovick....\" She took his hands in hers; in the darkness, the jewel swung madly on her presumably heaving bosom. \"This is bigger than both of us. It's for Earth.\"\n\n\n He knew it was his patriotic duty to do as she said; still, he had enjoyed life so much. \"Corisande, wouldn't it be much simpler if we just destroyed your uncle's secret weapon?\"\n\n\n \"He'd only make another. Don't you see, Ludovick, this is our only chance to save the Belphins, to save humanity.... But, of course, I don't have the right to send you. I'll go myself.\"\n\n\n \"No, Corisande,\" he sighed. \"I can't let you go. I'll do it.\"\nNext morning, he set out to warn Belphins. He knew it wasn't much use, but it was all he could do. The first half dozen responded in much the same way the Belphin he had warned the previous day had done, by courteously acknowledging his solicitude and assuring him there was no need for alarm; they knew all about the Flockharts and everything would be all right.\n\n\n After that, they started to get increasingly huffy—which would, he thought, substantiate the theory that they were all part of one vast coordinate network of identity. Especially since each Belphin behaved as if Ludovick had been repeatedly annoying\nhim\n.\n\n\n Finally, they refused to get off the walks when he hailed them—which was unheard of, for no Belphin had ever before failed to respond to an Earthman's call—and when he started running along the walks after them, they ran much faster than he could.\n\n\n At last he gave up and wandered about the city for hours, speaking to neither human nor Belphin, wondering what to do. That is, he knew what he had to do; he was wondering\nhow\nto do it. He would never be able to reach The Belphin of Belphins. No human being had ever done it. Mieczyslaw and George had died trying to reach him (or it). Even though their intentions had been hostile and Ludovick's would be helpful, there was little chance he would be allowed to reach The Belphin with all the other Belphins against him. What guarantee was there that The Belphin would not be against him, too?\n\n\n And yet he knew that he would have to risk his life; there was no help for it. He had never wanted to be a hero, and here he had heroism thrust upon him. He knew he could not succeed; equally well, he knew he could not turn back, for his Belphin teacher had instructed him in the meaning of duty.\n\n\n It was twilight when he approached the Blue Tower. Commending himself to the Infinite Virtue, he entered. The Belphin at the reception desk did not give off the customary smiling expression. In fact, he seemed to radiate a curiously apprehensive aura.\n\n\n \"Go back, young man,\" he said. \"You're not wanted here.\"\n\n\n \"I must see The Belphin of Belphins. I must warn him against the Flockharts.\"\n\n\n \"He has been warned,\" the receptionist told him. \"Go home and be happy!\"\n\n\n \"I don't trust you or your brothers. I must see The Belphin himself.\"\n\n\n Suddenly this particular Belphin lost his commanding manners. He began to wilt, insofar as so rigidly constructed a creature could go limp. \"Please, we've done so much for you. Do this for us.\"\n\n\n \"The Belphin of Belphins did things for us,\" Ludovick countered. \"You are all only his followers. How do I know you are\nreally\nfollowing him? How do I know you haven't turned against him?\"\n\n\n Without giving the creature a chance to answer, he strode forward. The Belphin attempted to bar his way. Ludovick knew one Belphin was a myriad times as strong as a human, so it was out of utter futility that he struck.\n\n\n The Belphin collapsed completely, flying apart in a welter of fragile springs and gears. The fact was of some deeper significance, Ludovick knew, but he was too numbed by his incredible success to be able to think clearly. All he knew was that The Belphin would be able to explain things to him.\nBells began to clash and clang. That meant the force barriers had gone up. He could see the shimmering insubstance of the first one before him. Squaring his shoulders, he charged it ... and walked right through. He looked himself up and down. He was alive and entire.\n\n\n Then the whole thing was a fraud; the barriers were not lethal—or perhaps even actual. But what of Mieczyslaw? And George? And countless rumored others? He would not let himself even try to think of them. He would not let himself even try to think of anything save his duty.\n\n\n A staircase spiraled up ahead of him. A Belphin was at its foot. Behind him, a barrier iridesced.\n\n\n \"Please, young man——\" the Belphin began. \"You don't understand. Let me explain.\"\n\n\n But Ludovick destroyed the thing before it could say anything further, and he passed right through the barrier. He had to get to the top and warn The Belphin of Belphins, whoever or whatever he (or it) was, that the Flockharts had a secret weapon which might be able to annihilate it (or him). Belphin after Belphin Ludovick destroyed, and barrier after barrier he penetrated until he reached the top. At the head of the stairs was a vast golden door.\n\n\n \"Go no further, Ludovick Eversole!\" a mighty voice roared from within. \"To open that door is to bring disaster upon your race.\"\n\n\n But all Ludovick knew was that he had to get to The Belphin within and warn him. He battered down the door; that is, he would have battered down the door if it had not turned out to be unlocked. A stream of noxious vapor rushed out of the opening, causing him to black out.\n\n\n When he came to, most of the vapor had dissipated. The Belphin of Belphins was already dying of asphyxiation, since it was, in fact, a single alien entity who breathed another combination of elements. The room at the head of the stairs had been its tank.\n\n\n \"You fool....\" it gasped. \"Through your muddle-headed integrity ... you have destroyed not only me ... but Earth's future. I tried to make ... this planet a better place for humanity ... and this is my reward....\"\n\n\n \"But I don't understand!\" Ludovick wept. \"\nWhy\ndid you let me do it? Why were Mieczyslaw and George and all the others killed? Why was it that I could pass the barriers and they could not?\"\n\n\n \"The barriers were triggered ... to respond to hostility.... You meant well ... so our defenses ... could not work.\" Ludovick had to bend low to hear the creature's last words: \"There is ... Earth proverb ... should have warned me ... 'I can protect myself ... against my enemies ... but who will protect me ... from my friends'...?\"\n\n\n The Belphin of Belphins died in Ludovick's arms. He was the last of his race, so far as Earth was concerned, for no more came. If, as they had said themselves, some outside power had sent them to take care of the human race, then that power had given up the race as a bad job. If they were merely exploiting Earth, as the malcontents had kept suggesting, apparently it had proven too dangerous or too costly a venture.\nShortly after The Belphin's demise, the Flockharts arrived en masse. \"We won't need your secret weapons now,\" Ludovick told them dully. \"The Belphin of Belphins is dead.\"\n\n\n Corisande gave one of the rippling laughs he was to grow to hate so much. \"Darling,\nyou\nwere my secret weapon all along!\" She beamed at her \"relatives,\" and it was then he noticed the faint lines of her forehead. \"I told you I could use the power of love to destroy the Belphins!\" And then she added gently: \"I think there is no doubt who is head of 'this family' now.\"\n\n\n The uncle gave a strained laugh. \"You're going to have a great little first lady there, boy,\" he said to Ludovick.\n\n\n \"First lady?\" Ludovick repeated, still absorbed in his grief.\n\n\n \"Yes, I imagine the people will want to make you our first President by popular acclaim.\"\n\n\n Ludovick looked at him through a haze of tears. \"But I killed The Belphin. I didn't mean to, but ... they must hate me!\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense, my boy; they'll adore you. You'll be a hero!\"\n\n\n Events proved him right. Even those people who had lived in apparent content under the Belphins, accepting what they were given and seemingly enjoying their carefree lives, now declared themselves to have been suffering in silent resentment all along. They hurled flowers and adulatory speeches at Ludovick and composed extremely flattering songs about him.\n\n\n Shortly after he was universally acclaimed President, he married Corisande. He couldn't escape.\n\n\n \"Why doesn't she become President herself?\" he wailed, when the relatives came and found him hiding in the ruins of the Blue Tower. The people had torn the Tower down as soon as they were sure The Belphin was dead and the others thereby rendered inoperant. \"It would spare her a lot of bother.\"\n\n\n \"Because she is not The Belphin-slayer,\" the uncle said, dragging him out. \"Besides, she loves you. Come on, Ludovick, be a man.\" So they hauled him off to the wedding and, amid much feasting, he was married to Corisande.\nHe never drew another happy breath. In the first place, now that The Belphin was dead, all the machinery that had been operated by him stopped and no one knew how to fix it. The sidewalks stopped moving, the air conditioners stopped conditioning, the food synthesizers stopped synthesizing, and so on. And, of course, everybody blamed it all on Ludovick—even that year's run of bad weather.\n\n\n There were famines, riots, plagues, and, after the waves of mob hostility had coalesced into national groupings, wars. It was like the old days again, precisely as described in the textbooks.\n\n\n In the second place, Ludovick could never forget that, when Corisande had sent him to the Blue Tower, she could not have been sure that her secret weapon would work. Love might\nnot\nhave conquered all—in fact, it was the more likely hypothesis that it wouldn't—and he would have been killed by the first barrier. And no husband likes to think that his wife thinks he's expendable; it makes him feel she doesn't really love him.\n\n\n So, in thirtieth year of his reign as Dictator of Earth, Ludovick poisoned Corisande—that is, had her poisoned, for by now he had a Minister of Assassination to handle such little matters—and married a very pretty, very young, very affectionate blonde. He wasn't particularly happy with her, either, but at least it was a change.\n\n\n\n\n —EVELYN E. SMITH\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the relationship between the humans and the Belphins?", "question_unique_id": "23104_4MQFQVNM_1", "options": ["The Belphins made the humans their servants. ", "The humans made the Belphins their servants. ", "The Belphins rule over the humans. ", "The humans rule over the Belphins. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What genre is the story?", "question_unique_id": "23104_4MQFQVNM_2", "options": ["Realistic Fiction", "Horror", "Dystopian", "Romance"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Corisande’s secret weapon?", "question_unique_id": "23104_4MQFQVNM_3", "options": ["She uses Ludovick's obedient nature and moral character to trick him into going into the Blue Tower. ", "She uses Ludovick's poetry to convince others to join her cause. ", "A virus to make the Belphin robots malfunction. ", "The love between Corisande and Ludovick. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is a good description of Ludovick at the beginning of the story?", "question_unique_id": "23104_4MQFQVNM_4", "options": ["Ludovick is a famous poet in the beginning. ", "Ludovick is naive and good-natured in the beginning. ", "Ludovick is suspicious in the beginning. ", "Ludovick is happy, but brain-washed. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a good description of Ludovick at the end of the story?", "question_unique_id": "23104_4MQFQVNM_5", "options": ["Ludovick is a hero in the end. ", "Ludovick is in love in the end. ", "Ludovick is a revolutionary in the end. ", "Ludovick is unhappy and cruel in the end. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who are the Belphins?", "question_unique_id": "23104_4MQFQVNM_6", "options": ["The royal family.", "Politicians ", "An alien race", "Robots"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/0/23104//23104-h//23104-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "23160", "set_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Solomon's Orbit", "year": 1974, "author": "Carroll, William", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "Solomon's Orbit\nThere will, sooner or later, be problems\n\n of \"space junk,\" and the right to dump in space.\n\n But not like this...!\nby William Carroll\nIllustrated by Schoenherr\n\n\n \"Comrades,\" said the senior technician,\n \"notice the clear view of\n North America. From here we\n watch everything; rivers, towns,\n almost the people. And see, our\n upper lens shows the dark spot of\n a meteor in space. Comrades, the\n meteor gets larger. It is going to\n pass close to our wondrous\n machine. Comrades ... Comrades ... turn\n to my channel. It is no\n meteor—it is square. The accursed\n Americans have sent up a house.\n Comrades ... an ancient automobile\n is flying toward our space\n machine. Comrades ... it is going\n to—Ah ... the picture is\n gone.\"\n\n\n Moscow reported the conversation,\n verbatim, to prove their space\n vehicle was knocked from the sky\n by a capitalistic plot. Motion pictures\n clearly showed an American\n automobile coming toward the\n Russian satellite. Russian astronomers\n ordered to seek other strange\n orbiting devices reported: \"We've\n observed cars for weeks. Have been\n exiling technicians and photographers\n to Siberia for making jokes\n of Soviet science. If television\n proves ancient automobiles are\n orbiting the world, Americans are\n caught in obvious attempt to ridicule\n our efforts to probe mysteries\n of space.\"\nConfusion was also undermining\n American scientific study of the\n heavens. At Mount Palomar the\n busy 200-inch telescope was\n photographing a strange new object,\n but plates returned from the\n laboratory caused astronomers to\n explode angrily. In full glory, the\n photograph showed a tiny image of\n an ancient car. This first development\n only affected two photographers\n at Mount Palomar. They were\n fired for playing practical jokes on\n the astronomers. Additional exposures\n of other newfound objects\n were made. Again the plates were\n returned; this time with three little\n old cars parading proudly across the\n heavens as though they truly belonged\n among the stars.\n\n\n The night the Russian protest\n crossed trails with the Palomar\n report, Washington looked like a\n kid with chicken pox, as dozens\n of spotty yellow windows marked\n midnight meetings of the nation's\n greatest minds. The military denied\n responsibility for cars older than\n 1942. Civil aviation proved they\n had no projects involving motor\n vehicles. Central Intelligence swore\n on their classification manual they\n were not dropping junk over Cuba\n in an attempt to hit Castro. Disgusted,\n the President established a\n civilian commission which soon\n located three more reports.\n\n\n Two were from fliers. The pilot\n of Flight 26, New York to Los\n Angeles, had two weeks before\n reported a strange object rising\n over Southern California about ten\n the evening of April 3rd. A week\n after this report, a private pilot\n on his way from Las Vegas claimed\n seeing an old car flying over Los\n Angeles. His statement was ignored,\n as he was arrested later\n while trying to drink himself silly\n because no one believed his story.\n\n\n Fortunately, at the approximate\n times both pilots claimed sighting\n unknown objects, radar at Los\n Angeles International recorded\n something rising from earth's surface\n into the stratosphere. Within\n hours after the three reports met,\n in the President's commission's\n office, mobile radar was spotted on\n Southern California hilltops in\n twenty-four-hour watches for unscheduled\n flights not involving\n aircraft.\n\n\n Number Seven, stationed in the\n Mount Wilson television tower\n parking lot, caught one first. \"Hey\n fellows,\" came his excited voice,\n \"check 124 degrees, vector 62 now ... rising ... 124\n degrees ... vector 66 ... rising—\"\nNine\nand\nFour\ncaught it moments\n later. Then\nThree\n, Army long-range\n radar, picked it up. \"O.K., we're\n on. It's still rising ... leaving\n the atmosphere ... gone. Anyone\n else catch it?\" Negative responses\n came from all but\nSeven\n,\nNine\nand\nFour\n. So well spread were\n they, that within minutes headquarters\n had laid four lines over\n Southern California. They crossed\n where the unsuspecting community\n of Fullerton was more or less sound\n asleep, totally unaware of the\n making of history in its back yard.\nThe history of what astronomers\n call Solomon's Orbit had its beginning\n about three months ago.\n Solomon, who couldn't remember\n his first name, was warming tired\n bones in the sun, in front of his\n auto-wrecking yard a mile south of\n Fullerton. Though sitting, he was\n propped against the office; a tin\n shed decorated like a Christmas tree\n with hundreds of hub caps dangling\n from sagging wooden rafters. The\n back door opened on two acres of\n what Solomon happily agreed was\n the finest junk in all California.\n Fords on the left, Chevys on the\n right, and across the sagging back\n fence, a collection of honorable\n sedans whose makers left the business\n world years ago. They were\n known as Solomon's \"Classics.\"\n\n\n The bright sun had Solomon's\n tiny eyes burrowed under a shaggy\n brow which, added to an Einstein-like\n shock of white hair, gave him\n the appearance of a professor on\n sabbatical. Eyes closed, Solomon\n was fondling favorite memories,\n when as a lad he repaired steam\n tractors and followed wheat across\n central plains of the United States.\n Happiness faded as the reverie was\n broken by spraying gravel signaling\n arrival of a customer's car.\n\n\n \"There's Uncle Solomon, Dad,\"\n a boy's voice was saying. \"He gives\n us kids good deals on hot-rod parts.\n You've just gotta take a look at\n his old cars, 'cause if you want\n a classic Uncle Solomon would\n make you a good deal, too. I just\n know he would.\"\n\n\n \"Sure, Son, let's go in and see\n what he's got,\" replied a man's\n voice. As Solomon opened his eyes,\n the two popped into reality. Heaving\n himself out of the sports car\n bucket seat that was his office\n chair, Solomon stood awaiting approach\n of the pair.\n\n\n \"Mr Solomon, Georgie here\n tells me you have some fine old\n cars for sale?\"\n\n\n \"Sure have. Sure have. They're\n in back. Come along. I'll show you\n the short cuts.\" Without waiting\n for a reply, Solomon started, head\n bent, white hair blowing; through\n the office, out the back door and\n down passages hardly wide enough\n for a boy, let alone a man. He disappeared\n around a hearse, and surfaced\n on the other side of a convertible,\n leading the boy and his\n father a chase that was more a\n guided tour of Solomon's yard than\n a short cut. \"Yes, sir, here they\n are,\" announced Solomon over his\n shoulder. Stepping aside he made\n room for the boy and his father to\n pass, between a couple of Ford\n Tudors.\n\n\n Three pair of eyes, one young,\n one old, the other tired, were faced\n by two rows of hulks, proud in the\n silent agony of their fate. Sold,\n resold and sold again, used until\n exhaustion set in, they reached\n Solomon's for a last brave stand.\n No matter what beauties they were\n to Solomon's prejudiced eyes; missing\n fenders, rusted body panels,\n broken wheels and rotted woodwork\n bespoke the utter impossibility\n of restoration.\n\n\n \"See, Dad, aren't they great?\"\n Georgie gleefully asked. He could\n just imagine shaking the guys at\n school with the old Packard, after\n Dad restored it.\n\n\n \"Are you kidding?\" Georgie's\n Dad exploded, \"Those wrecks\n aren't good for anything but shooting\n at the moon. Let's go.\" Not\n another word did he say. Heading\n back to the car parked outside\n Solomon's office, his footsteps were\n echoed by those of a crestfallen boy.\n Solomon, a figure of lonely dejection\n in the gloom overshadowing his\n unloved old cars, was troubled with\n smog causing his eyes to water as\n tired feet aimlessly found their way\n back to his seat in the sun.\n\n\n That night, to take his mind off\n worrisome old cars, Solomon began\n reading the previous Sunday's\n newspaper. There were pictures of\n moon shots, rockets and astronauts,\n which started Solomon to thinking;\n \"So, my classics are good only for\n shooting at the moon. This thing\n called an ion engine, which creates\n a force field to move satellites,\n seems like a lot of equipment. Could\n do it easier with one of my old\n engines, I bet.\"\n\n\n As Solomon told the people in\n Washington several months later,\n he was only resting his eyes, thinking\n about shop manuals and parts\n in the back yard. When suddenly he\n figured there was an easier way to\n build a satellite power plant. But,\n as it was past his bedtime, he'd\n put one together tomorrow.\n\n\n It was late the next afternoon\n before Solomon had a chance to\n try his satellite power plant idea.\n Customers were gone and he was\n free of interruption. The engine\n of his elderly Moreland tow-truck\n was brought to life by Solomon\n almost hidden behind the huge\n wooden steering wheel. The truck\n lumbered carefully down rows of\n cars to an almost completely\n stripped wreck holding only a\n broken engine. In a few minutes,\n Solomon had the engine waving\n behind the truck while he reversed\n to a clear space near the center of\n his yard.\n\n\n Once the broken engine was\n blocked upright on the ground,\n Solomon backed his Moreland out\n of the way, carried a tray of tools\n to the engine and squatted in the\n dirt to work. First, the intake\n manifold came off and was bolted\n to the clutch housing so the carburetor\n mounting flange faced skyward.\n Solomon stopped for a minute\n to worry. \"If it works,\" he\n thought, \"when I get them nearer\n each other, it'll go up in my face.\"\n Scanning the yard he thought of\n fenders, doors, wheels, hub caps\n and ... that was it. A hub cap\n would do the trick.\n\n\n At his age, running was a senseless\n activity, but walking faster\n than usual, Solomon took a direct\n route to his office. From the ceiling\n of hub caps, he selected a small cap\n from an old Chevy truck. Back at\n the engine, he punched a hole in\n the cap, through which he tied a\n length of strong twine. The cap was\n laid on the carburetor flange and\n stuck in place with painter's masking\n tape. He then bolted the\n exhaust manifold over the intake\n so the muffler connection barely\n touched the hub cap. Solomon\n stood up, kicked the manifolds\n with his heavy boots to make sure\n they were solid and grunted with\n satisfaction of a job well done.\n\n\n He moved his tray of tools away\n and trailed the hub cap twine behind\n the solid body of a big old\n Ford station wagon. He'd read of\n scientists in block houses when\n they shot rockets and was taking\n no chances. Excitement glistened\n Solomon's old eyes as what blood\n pressure there was rose a point or\n two with happy thoughts. If his\n idea worked, he would be free of\n the old cars, yet not destroy a single\n one. Squatting behind the station\n wagon, to watch the engine, Solomon\n gingerly pulled the twine to\n eliminate slack. As it tightened, he\n tensed, braced himself with a free\n hand on the wagon's bumper, and\n taking a deep breath, jerked the\n cord. Tired legs failed and Solomon\n slipped backward when the hub\n cap broke free of the tape and sailed\n through the air to clang against\n the wagon's fender. Lying on his\n back, struggling to rise, Solomon\n heard a slight swish as though a\n whirlwind had come through the\n yard. The scent of air-borne dust\n bit his nostrils as he struggled\n to his feet.\nDeep in the woods behind Solomon's\n yard two boys were hunting\n crows. Eyes high, they scanned\n branches and horizons for game.\n \"Look, there goes one,\" the\n younger cried as a large dark object\n majestically rose into the sky and\n rapidly disappeared into high\n clouds.\n\n\n \"Yup, maybe so,\" said the other.\n \"But it's flying too high for us.\"\n\"I must be a silly old man,\" Solomon\n thought, scanning the cleared\n space behind his tow truck where\n he remembered an engine. There\n was nothing there, and as Solomon\n now figured it, never had been.\n Heart heavy with belief in the\n temporary foolishness of age, Solomon\n went to the hub cap, glittering\n the sun where it lit after bouncing\n off the fender. It was untied from\n the string, and in the tool tray,\n before Solomon realized he'd not\n been daydreaming. In the cleared\n area, were two old manifold\n gaskets, several rusty nuts, and dirt\n blown smooth in a wide circle\n around greasy blocks on which he'd\n propped the now missing engine.\n\n\n That night was a whirlwind of\n excitement for Solomon. He had\n steak for dinner, then sat back to\n consider future success. Once the\n classic cars were gone, he could use\n the space for more profitable Fords\n and Chevys. All he'd have to do\n would be bolt manifolds from spare\n engines on a different car every\n night, and he'd be rid of it. All he\n used was vacuum in the intake\n manifold, drawing pressure from\n the outlet side of the exhaust. The\n resulting automatic power flow\n raised anything they were attached\n to. Solomon couldn't help but\n think, \"The newspapers said scientists\n were losing rockets and space\n capsules, so a few old cars could get\n lost in the clouds without hurting\n anything.\"\n\n\n Early the next morning, he\n towed the oldest hulk, an Essex, to\n the cleared space. Manifolds from\n junk engines were bolted to the\n wheels but this time carburetor\n flanges were covered by wooden\n shingles because Solomon figured\n he couldn't afford to ruin four salable\n hub caps just to get rid of his\n old sedans. Each shingle was taped\n in place so they could be pulled\n off in unison with a strong pull on\n the twine. The tired Essex was\n pretty big, so Solomon waited until\n bedtime before stumbling through\n the dark to the launching pad in\n his yard. Light from kitchen\n matches helped collect the shingle\n cords as he crouched behind the\n Ford wagon. He held the cords\n in one calloused hand, a burning\n match in the other so he could\n watch the Essex. Solomon tightened\n his fist, gave a quick tug to\n jerk all shingles at the same time,\n and watched in excited satisfaction\n as the old sedan rose in a soft\n swish of midsummer air flowing\n through ancient curves of four\n rusty manifold assemblies.\n\n\n Day after day, only a mile from\n Fullerton, Solomon busied himself\n buying wrecked cars and selling\n usable parts. Each weekday night—Solomon\n never worked on Sunday—another\n old car from his back lot\n went silently heavenward with the\n aid of Solomon's unique combination\n of engine vacuum and exhaust\n pressure. His footsteps were\n light with accomplishment as he\n thought, \"In four more days,\n they'll all be gone.\"\nWhile the Fullerton radar net\n smoked innumerable cigarettes and\n cursed luck ruining the evening,\n Solomon scrambled two eggs, enjoyed\n his coffee and relaxed with\n a newly found set of old 1954 Buick\n shop manuals. As usual, when the\n clock neared ten, he closed his\n manuals and let himself out the\n back door.\n\n\n City lights, reflected in low\n clouds, brightened the way Solomon\n knew well. He was soon kneeling\n behind the Ford wagon without\n having stumbled once. Only two\n kitchen matches were needed to\n collect the cords from a big Packard,\n handsome in the warmth of a\n moonless summer night. With a\n faint \"God Bless You,\" Solomon\n pulled the shingles and watched\n its massive hulk rise and disappear\n into orbit with his other orphans.\n\n\n If you'd been able to see it all,\n you'd have worried. The full circle\n of radar and communications crews\n around Fullerton had acted as\n though the whole town were going\n to pussyfoot away at sundown.\nNine\nwas hidden in a curious farmer's\n orange grove.\nSeven\nwas tucked\n between station wagons in the back\n row of a used car lot.\nFour\nwas\n assigned the loading dock of a\n meat-packing plant, but the night\n watchman wouldn't allow them to\n stay. They moved across the street\n behind a fire station.\nThree\nwas too\n big to hide, so it opened for business\n inside the National Guard\n Armory.\n\n\n They all caught the Packard's\n takeoff. Degree lines from the four\n stations around Fullerton were\n crossed on the map long before\n Solomon reached his back door.\n By the time bedroom lights were\n out and covers under his bristly\n chin, a task force of quiet men was\n speeding on its way to surround\n four blocks of country land; including\n a chicken ranch, Solomon's\n junk yard and a small frame house.\n Dogs stirred, yapping at sudden\n activity they alone knew of, then\n nose to tail, returned to sleep when\n threats of intrusion failed to materialize.\n\n\n The sun was barely up when the\n chicken farmer was stopped a block\n from his house, Highway patrolmen\n slowly inspected his truck\n from front to back, while three cars\n full of civilians, by the side of the\n road, watched every move. Finding\n nothing unusual, a patrolman reported\n to the first civilian car then\n returned to wave the farmer on\n his way. When the widow teacher\n from the frame house, started for\n school, she too, was stopped.\n After a cursory inspection the\n patrolman passed her on. Two of\n the three accounted for. What of\n the third?\nQuietly a cavalcade formed, converged\n in Solomon's front yard and\n parked facing the road ready for\n quick departure. Some dozen civilians\n muddied shoes and trousers\n circling the junk yard, taking stations\n so they could watch all\n approaches. Once they were in\n position, a Highway patrolman and\n two civilians went to Solomon's\n door.\n\n\n His last cup of coffee was almost\n gone as Solomon heard the noise\n of their shoes, followed by knuckles\n thumping his front door. Wondering\n who could be in such a hurry,\n so early in the morning, he pulled\n on boots and buttoned a denim\n jacket as he went to answer.\n \"Hello,\" said Solomon to the\n patrolman, while opening the door.\n \"Why you bother me so early?\n You know I only buy cars from\n owners.\"\n\n\n \"No, Mr. Solomon, we're not\n worried about your car buying.\n This man, from Washington, wants\n to ask you a few questions.\"\n\n\n \"Sure, come in,\" Solomon replied.\n\n\n The questions were odd: Do you\n have explosives here? Can you weld\n metal tanks? What is your education?\n Were you ever an engineer?\n What were you doing last night?\n To these, and bewildering others,\n Solomon told the truth. He had\n no explosives, couldn't weld, didn't\n finish school and was here, in bed,\n all night.\n\n\n Then they wanted to see his cars.\n Through the back door, so he'd\n not have to open the office, Solomon\n led the three men into his\n yard. Once inside, and without asking\n permission, they began searching\n like a hungry hound trailing\n a fat rabbit. Solomon's eyes, blinking\n in the glare of early morning\n sun, watched invasion of his privacy.\n \"What they want?\" he wondered.\n He'd broken no laws in all\n the years he'd been in the United\n States. \"For what do they bother\n a wrecking yard?\" he asked himself.\n\n\n His depressing thoughts were\n rudely shattered by a hail from the\n larger civilian, standing at the\n back of Solomon's yard. There,\n three old cars stood in an isolated\n row. \"Solomon, come here a moment,\"\n he shouted. Solomon\n trudged back, followed by the\n short civilian and patrolman who\n left their curious searching to follow\n Solomon's lead. When he\n neared, the tall stranger asked, \"I\n see where weeds grew under other\n cars which, from the tracks, have\n been moved out in the past few\n weeks. How many did you have?\"\n\n\n \"Twenty; but these are all I have\n left,\" Solomon eagerly replied,\n hoping at last he'd a customer for\n the best of his old cars. \"They make\n classic cars, if you'd take the time\n to fix them up. That one, the Hupmobile,\n is the last—\"\n\n\n \"Who bought the others?\" the\n big man interrupted.\n\n\n \"No one,\" quavered Solomon,\n terror gripping his throat with a\n nervous hand. Had he done wrong\n to send cars into the sky? Everyone\n else was sending things up. Newspapers\n said Russians and Americans\n were racing to send things into the\n air. What had he done that was\n wrong? Surely there was no law\n he'd broken. Wasn't the air free,\n like the seas? People dumped things\n into the ocean.\n\n\n \"Then where did they go?\"\n snapped his questioner.\n\n\n \"Up there,\" pointed Solomon.\n \"I needed the space. They were too\n good to cut up. No one would buy\n them. So I sent them up. The\n newspapers—\"\n\n\n \"You did what?\"\n\n\n \"I sent them into the sky,\"\n quavered Solomon. So this is what\n he did wrong. Would they lock\n him up? What would happen to his\n cars? And his business?\n\n\n \"How did you ... no! Wait a\n minute. Don't say a word. Officer,\n go and tell my men to prevent\n anyone from approaching or leaving\n this place.\" The patrolman\n almost saluted, thought better of\n it, and left grumbling about being\n left out of what must be something\n big.\n\n\n Solomon told the civilians of\n matching vacuum in intake manifolds\n to pressure from exhaust\n manifolds. A logical way to make\n an engine that would run on pressure,\n like satellite engines he'd\n read about in newspapers. It\n worked on a cracked engine block,\n so he'd used scrap manifolds to\n get rid of old cars no one would\n buy. It hadn't hurt anything, had\n it?\nWell, no, it hadn't. But as you\n can imagine, things happened\n rather fast. They let Solomon get\n clean denims and his razor. Then\n without a bye-your-leave, hustled\n him to the Ontario airport where\n an unmarked jet flew him to\n Washington and a hurriedly arranged\n meeting with the President.\n They left guards posted inside the\n fence of Solomon's yard, so they'll\n cause no attention while protecting\n his property. A rugged individual\n sits in the office and tells buyers\n and sellers alike, that he is Solomon's\n nephew. \"The old man had\n to take a trip in a hurry.\" Because\n he knows nothing of the business,\n they'll have to wait until Solomon\n returns.\n\n\n Where's Solomon now? Newspaper\n stories have him in Nevada\n showing the Air Force how to\n build gigantic intake and exhaust\n manifolds, which the Strategic Air\n Command is planning to attach\n to a stratospheric decompression\n test chamber. They figure if they\n can throw it into the sky, they can\n move anything up to what astronomers\n now call Solomon's Orbit,\n where at last count, sixteen of the\n seventeen cars are still merrily\n circling the earth. As you know,\n one recently hit the Russian television\n satellite.\n\n\n The Russians? We're told they're\n still burning their fingers trying\n to orbit a car. They can't figure\n how to control vacuum and pressure\n from the manifolds. Solomon\n didn't tell many people about the\n shingles he uses for control panels,\n and the Russians think control\n is somehow related to kitchen\n matches a newspaper reporter found\n scattered behind a station wagon in\n Solomon's junk yard.\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAnalog Science Fact Science Fiction\nNovember 1962.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What strange objects are people seeing in the sky?", "question_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G_1", "options": ["old cars", "televisions", "satellites ", "meteors"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the setting of the story?", "question_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G_2", "options": ["California, United States", "Ontario, Canada", "Havana, Cuba", "Moscow, Russia"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Solomon’s goal?", "question_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G_3", "options": ["He wants to be recruited by Nasa. ", "He wants to get rid of his old cars that aren't selling to make space for cars that he can sell. ", "He wants to interfere with the Russians' spacecrafts. ", "He wants to become famous and be in the newspaper. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What motivates Solomon to experiment with the old cars?", "question_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G_4", "options": ["He is bored and starts tinkering around. ", "He gets a notice from the city that he needs to clean up his yard. ", "He likes the old cars too much to destroy them. He wants to get rid of them, but also keep them intact. ", "He doesn't know how else to get rid of the cars from his yard. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What best describes Solomon?", "question_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G_5", "options": ["Extravagant ", "Clever", "Naïve", "Untrustworthy"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How is Solomon like his classics?", "question_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G_6", "options": ["He is old and tired. Likewise, the cars are old and worn out. ", "He is energetic and full of life. Likewise, the cars are shiny and fast. ", "They both represent nostalgia for the golden days. ", "They are both past their prime. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is a theme of the story?", "question_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G_7", "options": ["The best inventions are made by accident. ", "There is great value in ordinary things and people. ", "Some things are not salvageable. ", "Junk is difficult to get rid of. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why do the patrolmen come to Solomon's business?", "question_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G_8", "options": ["They suspect he is a con artist. ", "They want to know how he is sending cars into space.  ", "They think he is dangerous. ", "They suspect he is building a bomb. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What happens to Solomon?", "question_unique_id": "23160_KJQ9Z35G_9", "options": ["He is arrested by the patrolmen for dumping junk into space. ", "He sells his business and works for NASA. ", "He becomes famous for being the crazy old man who polluted space. ", "He meets the President and is asked to share his discovery with the Air Force. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/6/23160//23160-h//23160-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "23563", "set_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Viewpoint", "year": 1957, "author": "Garrett, Randall", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "VIEWPOINT.\nBY RANDALL GARRETT\nIllustrated by Bernklau\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science\n Fiction January 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence\n that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nA fearsome thing is a thing you're afraid of—and it has nothing\n whatever to do with whether others are afraid, nor with whether it\n is in fact dangerous. It's your view of the matter that counts!\nThere was a dizzy, sickening whirl of mental blackness—not true\n blackness, but a mind-enveloping darkness that was filled with the\n multi-colored little sparks of thoughts and memories that scattered\n through the darkness like tiny glowing mice, fleeing from something\n unknown, fleeing outwards and away toward a somewhere that was equally\n unknown; scurrying, moving, changing—each half recognizable as it\n passed, but leaving only a vague impression behind.\n\n\n Memories were shattered into their component data bits in that maelstrom\n of not-quite-darkness, and scattered throughout infinity and eternity.\n Then the pseudo-dark stopped its violent motion and became still, no\n longer scattering the fleeing memories, but merely blanketing them. And\n slowly—ever so slowly—the powerful cohesive forces that existed\n between the data-bits began pulling them back together again as the\n not-blackness faded. The associative powers of the mind began putting\n the frightened little things together as they drifted back in from vast\n distances, trying to fit them together again in an ordered whole. Like a\n vast jigsaw puzzle in five dimensions, little clots and patches formed\n as the bits were snuggled into place here and there.\n\n\n The process was far from complete when Broom regained consciousness.\nBroom sat up abruptly and looked around him. The room was totally\n unfamiliar. For a moment, that seemed perfectly understandable. Why\n shouldn't the room look odd, after he had gone through—\n\n\n What?\n\n\n He rubbed his head and looked around more carefully. It was not just\n that the room itself was unfamiliar as a whole; the effect was greater\n than that. It was not the first time in his life he had regained\n consciousness in unfamiliar surroundings, but always before he had been\n aware that only the pattern was different, not the details.\n\n\n He sat there on the floor and took stock of himself and his\n surroundings.\n\n\n He was a big man—six feet tall when he stood up, and proportionately\n heavy, a big-boned frame covered with hard, well-trained muscles. His\n hair and beard were a dark blond, and rather shaggy because of the time\n he'd spent in prison.\n\n\n Prison!\n\n\n Yes, he'd been in prison. The rough clothing he was wearing was\n certainly nothing like the type of dress he was used to.\n\n\n He tried to force his memory to give him the information he was looking\n for, but it wouldn't come. A face flickered in his mind for a moment,\n and a name. Contarini. He seemed to remember a startled look on the\n Italian's face, but he could neither remember the reason for it nor when\n it had been. But it would come back; he was sure of that.\n\n\n Meanwhile, where the devil was he?\n\n\n From where he was sitting, he could see that the room was fairly large,\n but not extraordinarily so. A door in one wall led into another room of\n about the same size. But they were like no other rooms he had ever seen\n before. He looked down at the floor. It was soft, almost as soft as a\n bed, covered with a thick, even, resilient layer of fine material of\n some kind. It was some sort of carpeting that covered the floor from\n wall to wall, but no carpet had ever felt like this.\n\n\n He lifted himself gingerly to his feet. He wasn't hurt, at least. He\n felt fine, except for the gaps in his memory.\n\n\n The room was well lit. The illumination came from the ceiling, which\n seemed to be made of some glowing, semitranslucent metal that cast a\n shadowless glow over everything. There was a large, bulky table near the\n wall away from the door; it looked almost normal, except that the\n objects on it were like nothing that had ever existed. Their purposes\n were unknown, and their shapes meaningless.\n\n\n He jerked his head away, not wanting to look at the things on the table.\n\n\n The walls, at least, looked familiar. They seemed to be paneled in some\n fine wood. He walked over and touched it.\n\n\n And knew immediately that, no matter what it looked like, it wasn't\n wood. The illusion was there to the eye, but no wood ever had such a\n hard, smooth, glasslike surface as this. He jerked his fingertips away.\n\n\n He recognized, then, the emotion that had made him turn away from the\n objects on the table and pull his hand away from the unnatural wall. It\n was fear.\n\n\n Fear? Nonsense! He put his hand out suddenly and slapped the wall with\n his palm and held it there. There was nothing to be afraid of!\n\n\n He laughed at himself softly. He'd faced death a hundred times during\n the war without showing fear; this was no time to start. What would his\n men think of him if they saw him getting shaky over the mere touch of a\n woodlike wall?\n\n\n The memories were coming back. This time, he didn't try to probe for\n them; he just let them flow.\n\n\n He turned around again and looked deliberately at the big, bulky table.\n There was a faint humming noise coming from it which had escaped his\n notice before. He walked over to it and looked at the queerly-shaped\n things that lay on its shining surface. He had already decided that the\n table was no more wood than the wall, and a touch of a finger to the\n surface verified the decision.\n\n\n The only thing that looked at all familiar on the table was a sheaf of\n written material. He picked it up and glanced over the pages, noticing\n the neat characters, so unlike any that he knew. He couldn't read a word\n of it. He grinned and put the sheets back down on the smooth table top.\n\n\n The humming appeared to be coming from a metal box on the other side of\n the table. He circled around and took a look at the thing. It had levers\n and knobs and other projections, but their functions were not\n immediately discernible. There were several rows of studs with various\n unrecognizable symbols on them.\n\n\n This would certainly be something to tell in London—when and if he ever\n got back.\n\n\n He reached out a tentative finger and touched one of the symbol-marked\n studs.\n\n\n There was a loud\nclick!\nin the stillness of the room, and he leaped\n back from the device. He watched it warily for a moment, but nothing\n more seemed to be forthcoming. Still, he decided it might be best to let\n things alone. There was no point in messing with things that undoubtedly\n controlled forces beyond his ability to cope with, or understand. After\n all, such a long time—\n\n\n He stopped, Time?\nTime?\nWhat had Contarini said about time? Something about its being like a\n river that flowed rapidly—that much he remembered. Oh, yes—and that it\n was almost impossible to try to swim backwards against the current or\n ... something else. What?\n\n\n He shook his head. The more he tried to remember what his fellow\n prisoner had told him, the more elusive it became.\n\n\n He had traveled in time, that much was certain, but how far, and in\n which direction? Toward the future, obviously; Contarini had made it\n plain that going into the past was impossible. Then could he, Broom, get\n back to his own time, or was he destined to stay in this—place?\n Wherever and whenever it was.\n\n\n Evidently movement through the time-river had a tendency to disorganize\n a man's memories. Well, wasn't that obvious anyway? Even normal movement\n through time, at the rate of a day per day, made some memories fade. And\n some were lost entirely, while others remained clear and bright. What\n would a sudden jump of centuries do?\n\n\n His memory was improving, though. If he just let it alone, most of it\n would come back, and he could orient himself. Meanwhile, he might as\n well explore his surroundings a little more. He resolved to keep his\n hands off anything that wasn't readily identifiable.\nThere was a single oddly-shaped chair by the bulky table, and behind the\n chair was a heavy curtain which apparently covered a window. He could\n see a gleam of light coming through the division in the curtains.\n\n\n Broom decided he might as well get a good look at whatever was outside\n the building he was in. He stepped over, parted the curtains, and—\n\n\n —And gasped!\n\n\n It was night time outside, and the sky was clear. He recognized the\n familiar constellations up there. But they were dimmed by the light from\n the city that stretched below him.\n\n\n And what a city! At first, it was difficult for his eyes to convey their\n impressions intelligently to his brain. What they were recording was so\n unfamiliar that his brain could not decode the messages they sent.\n\n\n There were broad, well-lit streets that stretched on and on, as far as\n he could see, and beyond them, flittering fairy bridges rose into the\n air and arched into the distance. And the buildings towered over\n everything. He forced himself to look down, and it made him dizzy. The\n building he was in was so high that it would have projected through the\n clouds if there had been any clouds.\n\n\n Broom backed away from the window and let the curtain close. He'd had\n all of that he could take for right now. The inside of the building, his\n immediate surroundings, looked almost homey after seeing that monstrous,\n endless city outside.\n\n\n He skirted the table with its still-humming machine and walked toward\n the door that led to the other room. A picture hanging on a nearby wall\n caught his eye, and he stopped. It was a portrait of a man in\n unfamiliar, outlandish clothing, but Broom had seen odder clothing in\n his travels. But the thing that had stopped him was the amazing reality\n of the picture. It was almost as if there were a mirror there,\n reflecting the face of a man who stood invisibly before it.\n\n\n It wasn't, of course; it was only a painting. But the lifelike, somber\n eyes of the man were focused directly on him. Broom decided he didn't\n like the effect at all, and hurried into the next room.\n\n\n There were several rows of the bulky tables in here, each with its own\n chair. Broom's footsteps sounded loud in the room, the echoes rebounding\n from the walls. He stopped and looked down. This floor wasn't covered\n with the soft carpeting; it had a square, mosaic pattern, as though it\n might be composed of tile of some kind. And yet, though it was harder\n than the carpet it had a kind of queer resiliency of its own.\n\n\n The room itself was larger than the one he had just quitted, and not as\n well lit. For the first time, he thought of the possibility that there\n might be someone else here besides himself. He looked around, wishing\n that he had a weapon of some kind. Even a knife would have made him feel\n better.\n\n\n But there had been no chance of that, of course. Prisoners of war are\n hardly allowed to carry weapons with them, so none had been available.\n\n\n He wondered what sort of men lived in this fantastic city. So far, he\n had seen no one. The streets below had been filled with moving vehicles\n of some kind, but it had been difficult to tell whether there had been\n anyone walking down there from this height.\n\n\n Contarini had said that it would be ... how had he said it? \"Like\n sleeping for hundreds of years and waking up in a strange world.\"\n\n\n Well, it was that, all right.\n\n\n Did anyone know he was here? He had the uneasy feeling that hidden,\n unseen eyes were watching his every move, and yet he could detect\n nothing. There was no sound except the faint humming from the device in\n the room behind him, and a deeper, almost inaudible, rushing, rumbling\n sound that seemed to come from far below.\n\n\n His wish for a weapon came back, stronger than before. The very fact\n that he had seen no one set his nerves on edge even more than the sight\n of a known enemy would have done.\n\n\n He was suddenly no longer interested in his surroundings. He felt\n trapped in this strange, silent room. He could see a light shining\n through a door at the far end of the room—perhaps it was a way out. He\n walked toward it, trying to keep his footsteps as silent as possible as\n he moved.\n\n\n The door had a pane of translucent glass in it, and there were more of\n the unreadable characters on it. He wished fervently that he could\n decipher them; they might tell him where he was.\n\n\n Carefully, he grasped the handle of the door, twisted it, and pulled.\n And, careful as he had been, the door swung inward with surprising\n rapidity. It was a great deal thinner and lighter than he had supposed.\n\n\n He looked down at it, wondering if there were any way the door could be\n locked. There was a tiny vertical slit set in a small metal panel in the\n door, but it was much too tiny to be a keyhole. Still—\n\n\n It didn't matter. If necessary, he could smash the glass to get through\n the door. He stepped out into what was obviously a hallway beyond the\n door.\nThe hallway stretched away to either side, lined with doors similar to\n the one he had just come through. How did a man get out of this place,\n anyway? The door behind him was pressing against his hand with a patient\n insistence, as though it wanted to close itself. He almost let it close,\n but, at the last second, he changed his mind.\nBetter the devil we know than the devil we don't\n, he thought to\n himself.\n\n\n He went back into the office and looked around for something to prop the\n door open. He found a small, beautifully formed porcelain dish on one of\n the desks, picked it up, and went back to the door. The dish held the\n door open an inch or so. That was good enough. If someone locked the\n door, he could still smash in the glass if he wanted to, but the absence\n of the dish when he returned would tell him that he was not alone in\n this mysterious place.\n\n\n He started down the hallway to his right, checking the doors as he went.\n They were all locked. He knew that he could break into any of them, but\n he had a feeling that he would find no exit through any of them. They\n all looked as though they concealed more of the big rooms.\n\n\n None of them had any lights behind them. Only the one door that he had\n come through showed the telltale glow from the other side. Why?\n\n\n He had the terrible feeling that he had been drawn across time to this\n place for a purpose, and yet he could think of no rational reason for\n believing so.\n\n\n He stopped as another memory came back. He remembered being in the\n stone-walled dungeon, with its smelly straw beds, lit only by the faint\n shaft of sunlight that came from the barred window high overhead.\n\n\n Contarini, the short, wiry little Italian who was in the next cell,\n looked at him through the narrow opening. \"I still think it can be done,\n my friend. It is the mind and the mind alone that sees the flow of time.\n The body experiences, but does not see. Only the soul is capable of\n knowing eternity.\"\n\n\n Broom outranked the little Italian, but prison can make brothers of all\n men. \"You think it's possible then, to get out of a place like this,\n simply by thinking about it?\"\n\n\n Contarini nodded. \"Why not? Did not the saints do so? And what was that?\n Contemplation of the Eternal, my comrade; contemplation of the Eternal.\"\n\n\n Broom held back a grin. \"Then why, my Venetian friend, have you not left\n this place long since?\"\n\n\n \"I try,\" Contarini had said simply, \"but I cannot do it. You wish to\n know why? It is because I am afraid.\"\n\n\n \"Afraid?\" Broom raised an eyebrow. He had seen Contarini on the\n battlefield, dealing death in hand-to-hand combat, and the Italian\n hadn't impressed him as a coward.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" said the Venetian. \"Afraid. Oh, I am not afraid of men. I fight.\n Some day, I may die—\nwill\ndie. This does not frighten me, death. I am\n not afraid of what men may do to me.\" He stopped and frowned. \"But, of\n this, I have a great fear. Only a saint can handle such things, and I am\n no saint.\"\n\n\n \"I hope, my dear Contarini,\" Broom said dryly, \"that you are not under\n the impression that\nI\nam a saint.\"\n\n\n \"No, perhaps not,\" Contarini said. \"Perhaps not. But you are braver than\n I. I am not afraid of any man living. But you are afraid of neither the\n living nor the dead, nor of man nor devil—which is a great deal more\n than I can say for myself. Besides, there is the blood of kings in your\n veins. And has not a king protection that even a man of noble blood such\n as myself does not have? I think so.\n\n\n \"Oh, I have no doubt that you could do it, if you but would. And then,\n perhaps, when you are free, you would free me—for teaching you all I\n know to accomplish this. My fear holds me chained here, but you have no\n chains of fear.\"\n\n\n Broom had thought that over for a moment, then grinned. \"All right, my\n friend; I'll try it. What's your first lesson?\"\n\n\n The memory faded from Broom's mind. Had he really moved through some\n segment of Eternity to reach this ... this place? Had he—\n\n\n He felt a chill run through him. What was he doing here? How could he\n have taken it all so calmly. Afraid of man or devil, no—but this was\n neither. He had to get back. The utter alienness of this bright,\n shining, lifeless wonderland was too much for him.\n\n\n Instinctively, he turned and ran back toward the room he had left. If he\n got back to the place where he had appeared in this world,\n perhaps—somehow—some force would return him to where he belonged.\nThe door was as he had left it, the porcelain dish still in place. He\n scooped up the dish in one big hand and ran on into the room, letting\n the door shut itself behind him. He ran on, through the large room with\n its many tables, into the brightly lighted room beyond.\n\n\n He stopped. What could he do now? He tried to remember the things that\n the Italian had told him to do, and he could not for the life of him\n remember them. His memory still had gaps in it—gaps he did not know\n were there because he had not yet probed for them. He closed his eyes in\n concentration, trying to bring back a memory that would not come.\n\n\n He did not hear the intruder until the man's voice echoed in the room.\n\n\n Broom's eyes opened, and instantly every muscle and nerve in his\n hard-trained body tensed for action. There was a man standing in the\n doorway of the office.\n\n\n He was not a particularly impressive man, in spite of the queer cut of\n his clothes. He was not as tall as Broom, and he looked soft and\n overfed. His paunch protruded roundly from the open front of the short\n coat, and there was a fleshiness about his face that betrayed too much\n good living.\n\n\n And he looked even more frightened than Broom had been a few minutes\n before.\n\n\n He was saying something in a language that Broom did not understand, and\n the tenseness in his voice betrayed his fear. Broom relaxed. He had\n nothing to fear from this little man.\n\n\n \"I won't hurt you,\" Broom said. \"I had no intention of intruding on your\n property, but all I ask is help.\"\n\n\n The little man was blinking and backing away, as though he were going to\n turn and bolt at any moment.\n\n\n Broom laughed. \"You have nothing to fear from me, little man. Permit me\n to introduce myself. I am Richard Broom, known as—\" He stopped, and his\n eyes widened. Total memory flooded over him as he realized fully who he\n was and where he belonged.\n\n\n And the fear hit him again in a raging flood, sweeping over his mind and\n blotting it out. Again, the darkness came.\nThis time, the blackness faded quickly. There was a face, a worried\n face, looking at him through an aperture in the stone wall. The\n surroundings were so familiar, that the bits of memory which had been\n scattered again during the passage through centuries of time came back\n more quickly and settled back into their accustomed pattern more easily.\n\n\n The face was that of the Italian, Contarini. He was looking both worried\n and disappointed.\n\n\n \"You were not gone long, my lord king,\" he said. \"But you\nwere\ngone.\n Of that there can be no doubt. Why did you return?\"\n\n\n Richard Broom sat up on his palette of straw. The scene in the strange\n building already seemed dreamlike, but the fear was still there. \"I\n couldn't remember,\" he said softly. \"I couldn't remember who I was nor\n why I had gone to that ... that place. And when I remembered, I came\n back.\"\n\n\n Contarini nodded sadly. \"It is as I have heard. The memory ties one too\n strongly to the past—to one's own time. One must return as soon as the\n mind had adjusted. I am sorry, my friend; I had hoped we could escape.\n But now it appears that we must wait until our ransoms are paid. And I\n much fear that mine will never be paid.\"\n\n\n \"Nor mine,\" said the big man dully. \"My faithful Blondin found me, but\n he may not have returned to London. And even if he has, my brother John\n may be reluctant to raise the money.\"\n\n\n \"What? Would England hesitate to ransom the brave king who has fought so\n gallantly in the Holy Crusades? Never! You will be free, my friend.\"\n\n\n But Richard Plantagenet just stared at the little dish that he still\n held in his hand, the fear still in his heart. Men would still call him\n \"Lion-hearted,\" but he knew that he would never again deserve the title.\nAnd, nearly eight centuries away in time and thousands of miles away in\n space, a Mr. Edward Jasperson was speaking hurriedly into the telephone\n that stood by the electric typewriter on his desk.\n\n\n \"That's right, Officer; Suite 8601, Empire State Building. I was working\n late, and I left the lights on in my office when I went out to get a cup\n of coffee. When I came back, he was here—a big, bearded man, wearing a\n thing that looked like a monk's robe made out of gunny sack. What? No, I\n locked the door when I left. What? Well, the only thing that's missing\n as far as I can tell is a ceramic ash tray from one of the desks; he was\n holding that in his hand when I saw him. What? Oh. Where did he go?\" Mr.\n Jasperson paused in his rush of words. \"Well, I must have gotten a\n little dizzy—I was pretty shocked, you know. To be honest, I didn't see\n where he went. I must have fainted.\n\n\n \"But I think you can pick him up if you hurry. With that getup on, he\n can't get very far away. All right. Thank you, Officer.\"\n\n\n He cradled the phone, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and dabbed\n at his damp forehead. He was a very frightened little man, but he knew\n he'd get over it by morning.\n\n\n THE END\n", "questions": [{"question": "Where is Broom in the beginning of the story?", "question_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI_1", "options": ["An office", "A mental hospital", "An apartment building", "A prison"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Where is Broom from?", "question_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI_2", "options": ["Venice, Italy", "Paris, France", "London, England", "New York City, U.S.A."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When was Broom born?", "question_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI_3", "options": ["The Industrial Revolution, around the 19th century. ", "Modern day, The middle of the 20th century. ", "The Medieval Period, around the 12th century. ", "The Renaissance, around the 15th century. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the metal box that makes a humming sound?", "question_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI_4", "options": ["A television", "A typewriter", "A telephone", "A computer"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Broom’s relationship with Contarini?", "question_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI_5", "options": ["They are strangers. ", "They are both prisoners. ", "They are brothers. ", "They are both con artists. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Broom’s relationship to Mr. Edward Jasperson?", "question_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI_6", "options": ["They are both prisoners. ", "They are brothers.", "They are strangers. ", "They are both con artists. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Broom go to prison for?", "question_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI_7", "options": ["Theft of a ceramic ash tray.", "He was a spy in the war. ", "Treason against the English crown. ", "He is a prisoner of war. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why doesn’t Broom know where he is or who he is?", "question_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI_8", "options": ["He has gone mad and is hallucinating. ", "He was kidnapped and tortured. ", "He time traveled to the future, which caused amnesia. ", "He had his memory wiped by the government. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What war did Broom fight in?", "question_unique_id": "23563_36E7PFLI_9", "options": ["World War I", "The Vietnam War", "The Holy Crusades", "The American Revolutionary War"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/3/5/6/23563//23563-h//23563-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22590", "set_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Wind", "year": 1962, "author": "Fontenay, Charles L.", "topic": "Venus (Planet) -- Fiction; Short stories; PS; Space colonies -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "WIND\nBy CHARLES L. FONTENAY\nWhen you have an engine with no fuel, and fuel\n \nwithout an engine, and a life-and-death deadline\n \nto meet, you have a problem indeed. Unless you are\n \na stubborn Dutchman—and Jan Van Artevelde was\n \nthe stubbornest Dutchman on Venus.\nJAN WILLEM van Artevelde\n claimed descent from William\n of Orange. He had no genealogy\n to prove it, but on Venus there\n was no one who could disprove it,\n either.\n\n\n Jan Willem van Artevelde\n smoked a clay pipe, which only a\n Dutchman can do properly, because\n the clay bit grates on less\n stubborn teeth.\n\n\n Jan needed all his Dutch stubbornness,\n and a good deal of pure\n physical strength besides, to maneuver\n the roach-flat groundcar\n across the tumbled terrain of\n Den Hoorn into the teeth of the\n howling gale that swept from the\n west. The huge wheels twisted\n and jolted against the rocks outside,\n and Jan bounced against his\n seat belt, wrestled the steering\n wheel and puffed at his\npijp\n. The\n mild aroma of Heerenbaai-Tabak\n filled the airtight groundcar.\n\n\n There came a new swaying\n that was not the roughness of\n the terrain. Through the thick\n windshield Jan saw all the\n ground about him buckle and\n heave for a second or two before\n it settled to rugged quiescence\n again. This time he was really\n heaved about.\n\n\n Jan mentioned this to the\n groundcar radio.\n\n\n \"That's the third time in half\n an hour,\" he commented. \"The\n place tosses like the IJsselmeer\n on a rough day.\"\n\n\n \"You just don't forget it\nisn't\nthe Zuider Zee,\" retorted Heemskerk\n from the other end. \"You\n sink there and you don't come up\n three times.\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry,\" said Jan. \"I'll\n be back on time, with a broom at\n the masthead.\"\n\n\n \"This I shall want to see,\"\n chuckled Heemskerk; a logical\n reaction, considering the scarcity\n of brooms on Venus.\nTwo hours earlier the two men\n had sat across a small table playing\n chess, with little indication\n there would be anything else to\n occupy their time before blastoff\n of the stubby gravity-boat. It\n would be their last chess game\n for many months, for Jan was a\n member of the Dutch colony at\n Oostpoort in the northern hemisphere\n of Venus, while Heemskerk\n was pilot of the G-boat from\n the Dutch spaceship\nVanderdecken\n,\n scheduled to begin an\n Earthward orbit in a few hours.\n\n\n It was near the dusk of the\n 485-hour Venerian day, and the\n Twilight Gale already had arisen,\n sweeping from the comparatively\n chill Venerian nightside into\n the superheated dayside. Oostpoort,\n established near some outcroppings\n that contained uranium\n ore, was protected from\n both the Dawn Gale and the Twilight\n Gale, for it was in a valley\n in the midst of a small range of\n mountains.\n\n\n Jan had just figured out a combination\n by which he hoped to\n cheat Heemskerk out of one of\n his knights, when Dekker, the\nburgemeester\nof Oostpoort, entered\n the spaceport ready room.\n\n\n \"There's been an emergency\n radio message,\" said Dekker.\n \"They've got a passenger for the\n Earthship over at Rathole.\"\n\n\n \"Rathole?\" repeated Heemskerk.\n \"What's that? I didn't\n know there was another colony\n within two thousand kilometers.\"\n\n\n \"It isn't a colony, in the sense\n Oostpoort is,\" explained Dekker.\n \"The people are the families of a\n bunch of laborers left behind\n when the colony folded several\n years ago. It's about eighty kilometers\n away, right across the\n Hoorn, but they don't have any\n vehicles that can navigate when\n the wind's up.\"\n\n\n Heemskerk pushed his short-billed\n cap back on his close-cropped\n head, leaned back in his chair\n and folded his hands over his\n comfortable stomach.\n\n\n \"Then the passenger will have\n to wait for the next ship,\" he\n pronounced. \"The\nVanderdecken\nhas to blast off in thirty hours to\n catch Earth at the right orbital\n spot, and the G-boat has to blast\n off in ten hours to catch the\nVanderdecken\n.\"\n\n\n \"This passenger can't wait,\"\n said Dekker. \"He needs to be\n evacuated to Earth immediately.\n He's suffering from the Venus\n Shadow.\"\n\n\n Jan whistled softly. He had\n seen the effects of that disease.\n Dekker was right.\n\n\n \"Jan, you're the best driver in\n Oostpoort,\" said Dekker. \"You\n will have to take a groundcar to\n Rathole and bring the fellow\n back.\"\nSo now Jan gripped his clay\n pipe between his teeth and piloted\n the groundcar into the teeth\n of the Twilight Gale.\n\n\n Den Hoorn was a comparatively\n flat desert sweep that ran\n along the western side of the\n Oost Mountains, just over the\n mountain from Oostpoort. It was\n a thin fault area of a planet\n whose crust was peculiarly subject\n to earthquakes, particularly\n at the beginning and end of each\n long day when temperatures of\n the surface rocks changed. On\n the other side of it lay Rathole, a\n little settlement that eked a precarious\n living from the Venerian\n vegetation. Jan never had seen it.\n\n\n He had little difficulty driving\n up and over the mountain, for the\n Dutch settlers had carved a\n rough road through the ravines.\n But even the 2½-meter wheels of\n the groundcar had trouble amid\n the tumbled rocks of Den Hoorn.\n The wind hit the car in full\n strength here and, though the\n body of the groundcar was suspended\n from the axles, there was\n constant danger of its being flipped\n over by a gust if not handled\n just right.\n\n\n The three earthshocks that had\n shaken Den Hoorn since he had\n been driving made his task no\n easier, but he was obviously\n lucky, at that. Often he had to\n detour far from his course to\n skirt long, deep cracks in the\n surface, or steep breaks where\n the crust had been raised or\n dropped several meters by past\n quakes.\n\n\n The groundcar zig-zagged\n slowly westward. The tattered\n violet-and-indigo clouds boiled\n low above it, but the wind was as\n dry as the breath of an oven.\n Despite the heavy cloud cover,\n the afternoon was as bright as\n an Earth-day. The thermometer\n showed the outside temperature\n to have dropped to 40 degrees\n Centigrade in the west wind, and\n it was still going down.\n\n\n Jan reached the edge of a\n crack that made further progress\n seem impossible. A hundred\n meters wide, of unknown depth,\n it stretched out of sight in both\n directions. For the first time he\n entertained serious doubts that\n Den Hoorn could be crossed by\n land.\n\n\n After a moment's hesitation,\n he swung the groundcar northward\n and raced along the edge of\n the chasm as fast as the car\n would negotiate the terrain. He\n looked anxiously at his watch.\n Nearly three hours had passed\n since he left Oostpoort. He had\n seven hours to go and he was\n still at least 16 kilometers from\n Rathole. His pipe was out, but\n he could not take his hands\n from the wheel to refill it.\n\n\n He had driven at least eight\n kilometers before he realized\n that the crack was narrowing.\n At least as far again, the two\n edges came together, but not at\n the same level. A sheer cliff\n three meters high now barred\n his passage. He drove on.\nApparently it was the result\n of an old quake. He found a spot\n where rocks had tumbled down,\n making a steep, rough ramp up\n the break. He drove up it and\n turned back southwestward.\n\n\n He made it just in time. He\n had driven less than three hundred\n meters when a quake more\n severe than any of the others\n struck. Suddenly behind him the\n break reversed itself, so that\n where he had climbed up coming\n westward he would now\n have to climb a cliff of equal\n height returning eastward.\n\n\n The ground heaved and buckled\n like a tempestuous sea.\n Rocks rolled and leaped through\n the air, several large ones striking\n the groundcar with ominous\n force. The car staggered forward\n on its giant wheels like a\n drunken man. The quake was so\n violent that at one time the vehicle\n was hurled several meters\n sideways, and almost overturned.\n And the wind smashed down\n on it unrelentingly.\n\n\n The quake lasted for several\n minutes, during which Jan was\n able to make no progress at all\n and struggled only to keep the\n groundcar upright. Then, in unison,\n both earthquake and wind\n died to absolute quiescence.\n\n\n Jan made use of this calm to\n step down on the accelerator and\n send the groundcar speeding\n forward. The terrain was easier\n here, nearing the western edge\n of Den Hoorn, and he covered\n several kilometers before the\n wind struck again, cutting his\n speed down considerably. He\n judged he must be nearing Rathole.\n\n\n Not long thereafter, he rounded\n an outcropping of rock and it\n lay before him.\n\n\n A wave of nostalgia swept\n over him. Back at Oostpoort, the\n power was nuclear, but this little\n settlement made use of the\n cheapest, most obviously available\n power source. It was dotted\n with more than a dozen windmills.\n\n\n Windmills! Tears came to\n Jan's eyes. For a moment, he\n was carried back to the flat\n lands around 's Gravenhage. For\n a moment he was a tow-headed,\n round-eyed boy again, clumping\n in wooden shoes along the edge\n of the tulip fields.\n\n\n But there were no canals here.\n The flat land, stretching into the\n darkening west, was spotted\n with patches of cactus and\n leather-leaved Venerian plants.\n Amid the windmills, low domes\n protruded from the earth, indicating\n that the dwellings of Rathole\n were, appropriately, partly\n underground.\nHe drove into the place. There\n were no streets, as such, but\n there were avenues between lines\n of heavy chains strung to short\n iron posts, evidently as handholds\n against the wind. The savage\n gale piled dust and sand in\n drifts against the domes, then,\n shifting slightly, swept them\n clean again.\n\n\n There was no one moving\n abroad, but just inside the community\n Jan found half a dozen\n men in a group, clinging to one\n of the chains and waving to him.\n He pulled the groundcar to a\n stop beside them, stuck his pipe\n in a pocket of his plastic venusuit,\n donned his helmet and\n got out.\n\n\n The wind almost took him\n away before one of them grabbed\n him and he was able to\n grasp the chain himself. They\n gathered around him. They were\n swarthy, black-eyed men, with\n curly hair. One of them grasped\n his hand.\n\n\n \"\nBienvenido, señor\n,\" said the\n man.\n\n\n Jan recoiled and dropped the\n man's hand. All the Orangeman\n blood he claimed protested in\n outrage.\n\n\n Spaniards! All these men were\n Spaniards!\nJan recovered himself at once.\n He had been reading too much\n ancient history during his leisure\n hours. The hot monotony of\n Venus was beginning to affect\n his brain. It had been 500 years\n since the Netherlands revolted\n against Spanish rule. A lot of\n water over the dam since then.\n\n\n A look at the men around him,\n the sound of their chatter, convinced\n him that he need not try\n German or Hollandsch here. He\n fell back on the international\n language.\n\n\n \"Do you speak English?\" he\n asked. The man brightened but\n shook his head.\n\n\n \"\nNo hablo inglés\n,\" he said,\n \"\npero el médico lo habla. Venga\n conmigo.\n\"\n\n\n He gestured for Jan to follow\n him and started off, pulling his\n way against the wind along the\n chain. Jan followed, and the\n other men fell in behind in single\n file. A hundred meters farther\n on, they turned, descended\n some steps and entered one of\n the half-buried domes. A gray-haired,\n bearded man was in the\n well-lighted room, apparently\n the living room of a home, with\n a young woman.\n\n\n \"\nÉl médico\n,\" said the man who\n had greeted Jan, gesturing. \"\nÉl\n habla inglés.\n\"\n\n\n He went out, shutting the airlock\n door behind him.\n\n\n \"You must be the man from\n Oostpoort,\" said the bearded\n man, holding out his hand. \"I\n am Doctor Sanchez. We are very\n grateful you have come.\"\n\n\n \"I thought for a while I\n wouldn't make it,\" said Jan ruefully,\n removing his venushelmet.\n\n\n \"This is Mrs. Murillo,\" said\n Sanchez.\n\n\n The woman was a Spanish\n blonde, full-lipped and beautiful,\n with golden hair and dark, liquid\n eyes. She smiled at Jan.\n\n\n \"\nEncantada de conocerlo,\n señor\n,\" she greeted him.\n\n\n \"Is this the patient, Doctor?\"\n asked Jan, astonished. She looked\n in the best of health.\n\n\n \"No, the patient is in the next\n room,\" answered Sanchez.\n\n\n \"Well, as much as I'd like to\n stop for a pipe, we'd better start\n at once,\" said Jan. \"It's a hard\n drive back, and blastoff can't be\n delayed.\"\n\n\n The woman seemed to sense\n his meaning. She turned and\n called: \"\nDiego!\n\"\n\n\n A boy appeared in the door, a\n dark-skinned, sleepy-eyed boy of\n about eight. He yawned. Then,\n catching sight of the big Dutchman,\n he opened his eyes wide\n and smiled.\n\n\n The boy was healthy-looking,\n alert, but the mark of the Venus\n Shadow was on his face. There\n was a faint mottling, a criss-cross\n of dead-white lines.\n\n\n Mrs. Murillo spoke to him rapidly\n in Spanish and he nodded.\n She zipped him into a venusuit\n and fitted a small helmet on his\n head.\n\n\n \"Good luck,\namigo\n,\" said Sanchez,\n shaking Jan's hand again.\n\n\n \"Thanks,\" replied Jan. He donned\n his own helmet. \"I'll need it,\n if the trip over was any indication.\"\nJan and Diego made their way\n back down the chain to the\n groundcar. There was a score of\n men there now, and a few\n women. They let the pair go\n through, and waved farewell as\n Jan swung the groundcar around\n and headed back eastward.\n\n\n It was easier driving with the\n wind behind him, and Jan hit a\n hundred kilometers an hour several\n times before striking the\n rougher ground of Den Hoorn.\n Now, if he could only find a way\n over the bluff raised by that last\n quake....\n\n\n The ground of Den Hoorn was\n still shivering. Jan did not realize\n this until he had to brake the\n groundcar almost to a stop at one\n point, because it was not shaking\n in severe, periodic shocks as it\n had earlier. It quivered constantly,\n like the surface of quicksand.\n\n\n The ground far ahead of him\n had a strange color to it. Jan,\n watching for the cliff he had to\n skirt and scale, had picked up\n speed over some fairly even terrain,\n but now he slowed again,\n puzzled. There was something\n wrong ahead. He couldn't quite\n figure it out.\n\n\n Diego, beside him, had sat\n quietly so far, peering eagerly\n through the windshield, not saying\n a word. Now suddenly he\n cried in a high thin tenor:\n\n\n \"\nCuidado! Cuidado! Un abismo!\n\"\n\n\n Jim saw it at the same time\n and hit the brakes so hard the\n groundcar would have stood on\n its nose had its wheels been\n smaller. They skidded to a stop.\n\n\n The chasm that had caused\n him such a long detour before\n had widened, evidently in the big\n quake that had hit earlier. Now\n it was a canyon, half a kilometer\n wide. Five meters from the edge\n he looked out over blank space\n at the far wall, and could not see\n the bottom.\n\n\n Cursing choice Dutch profanity,\n Jan wheeled the groundcar\n northward and drove along the\n edge of the abyss as fast as he\n could. He wasted half an hour before\n realizing that it was getting\n no narrower.\n\n\n There was no point in going\n back southward. It might be a\n hundred kilometers long or a\n thousand, but he never could\n reach the end of it and thread\n the tumbled rocks of Den Hoorn\n to Oostpoort before the G-boat\n blastoff.\n\n\n There was nothing to do but\n turn back to Rathole and see if\n some other way could not be\n found.\nJan sat in the half-buried room\n and enjoyed the luxury of a pipe\n filled with some of Theodorus\n Neimeijer's mild tobacco. Before\n him, Dr. Sanchez sat with crossed\n legs, cleaning his fingernails\n with a scalpel. Diego's mother\n talked to the boy in low, liquid\n tones in a corner of the room.\nJan was at a loss to know how\n people whose technical knowledge\n was as skimpy as it obviously\n was in Rathole were able to build\n these semi-underground domes to\n resist the earth shocks that came\n from Den Hoorn. But this one\n showed no signs of stress. A religious\n print and a small pencil\n sketch of Señora Murillo, probably\n done by the boy, were awry\n on the inward-curving walls, but\n that was all.\n\n\n Jan felt justifiably exasperated\n at these Spanish-speaking people.\n\n\n \"If some effort had been made\n to take the boy to Oostpoort from\n here, instead of calling on us to\n send a car, Den Hoorn could have\n been crossed before the crack\n opened,\" he pointed out.\n\n\n \"An effort was made,\" replied\n Sanchez quietly. \"Perhaps you do\n not fully realize our position\n here. We have no engines except\n the stationary generators that\n give us current for our air-conditioning\n and our utilities. They\n are powered by the windmills. We\n do not have gasoline engines for\n vehicles, so our vehicles are operated\n by hand.\"\n\n\n \"You push them?\" demanded\n Jan incredulously.\n\n\n \"No. You've seen pictures of\n the pump-cars that once were\n used on terrestrial railroads?\n Ours are powered like that, but\n we cannot operate them when the\n Venerian wind is blowing. By the\n time I diagnosed the Venus Shadow\n in Diego, the wind was coming\n up, and we had no way to get\n him to Oostpoort.\"\n\n\n \"Mmm,\" grunted Jan. He\n shifted uncomfortably and looked\n at the pair in the corner. The\n blonde head was bent over the\n boy protectingly, and over his\n mother's shoulder Diego's black\n eyes returned Jan's glance.\n\n\n \"If the disease has just started,\n the boy could wait for the\n next Earth ship, couldn't he?\"\n asked Jan.\n\n\n \"I said I had just diagnosed it,\n not that it had just started,\nseñor\n,\" corrected Sanchez. \"As\n you know, the trip to Earth takes\n 145 days and it can be started\n only when the two planets are at\n the right position in their orbits.\n Have you ever seen anyone die\n of the Venus Shadow?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I have,\" replied Jan in a\n low voice. He had seen two people\n die of it, and it had not been\n pleasant.\n\n\n Medical men thought it was a\n deficiency disease, but they had\n not traced down the deficiency responsible.\n Treatment by vitamins,\n diet, antibiotics, infrared\n and ultraviolet rays, all were useless.\n The only thing that could\n arrest and cure the disease was\n removal from the dry, cloud-hung\n surface of Venus and return to a\n moist, sunny climate on Earth.\n\n\n Without that treatment, once\n the typical mottled texture of the\n skin appeared, the flesh rapidly\n deteriorated and fell away in\n chunks. The victim remained unfevered\n and agonizingly conscious\n until the degeneration\n reached a vital spot.\n\n\n \"If you have,\" said Sanchez,\n \"you must realize that Diego cannot\n wait for a later ship, if his\n life is to be saved. He must get\n to Earth at once.\"\nJan puffed at the Heerenbaai-Tabak\n and cogitated. The place\n was aptly named. It was a ratty\n community. The boy was a dark-skinned\n little Spaniard—of Mexican\n origin, perhaps. But he was\n a boy, and a human being.\n\n\n A thought occurred to him.\n From what he had seen and\n heard, the entire economy of Rathole\n could not support the tremendous\n expense of sending the\n boy across the millions of miles\n to Earth by spaceship.\n\n\n \"Who's paying his passage?\"\n he asked. \"The Dutch Central\n Venus Company isn't exactly a\n charitable institution.\"\n\n\n \"Your\nSeñor\nDekker said that\n would be taken care of,\" replied\n Sanchez.\n\n\n Jan relit his pipe silently, making\n a mental resolution that Dekker\n wouldn't take care of it alone.\n Salaries for Venerian service\n were high, and many of the men\n at Oostpoort would contribute\n readily to such a cause.\n\n\n \"Who is Diego's father?\" he\n asked.\n\n\n \"He was Ramón Murillo, a very\n good mechanic,\" answered Sanchez,\n with a sliding sidelong\n glance at Jan's face. \"He has\n been dead for three years.\"\n\n\n Jan grunted.\n\n\n \"The copters at Oostpoort can't\n buck this wind,\" he said thoughtfully,\n \"or I'd have come in one of\n those in the first place instead of\n trying to cross Den Hoorn by\n land. But if you have any sort of\n aircraft here, it might make it\n downwind—if it isn't wrecked on\n takeoff.\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid not,\" said Sanchez.\n\n\n \"Too bad. There's nothing we\n can do, then. The nearest settlement\n west of here is more than\n a thousand kilometers away, and\n I happen to know they have no\n planes, either. Just copters. So\n that's no help.\"\n\n\n \"Wait,\" said Sanchez, lifting\n the scalpel and tilting his head.\n \"I believe there is something,\n though we cannot use it. This\n was once an American naval base,\n and the people here were civilian\n employes who refused to move\n north with it. There was a flying\n machine they used for short-range\n work, and one was left behind—probably\n with a little help\n from the people of the settlement.\n But....\"\n\n\n \"What kind of machine? Copter\n or plane?\"\n\n\n \"They call it a flying platform.\n It carries two men, I believe.\n But,\nseñor\n....\"\n\n\n \"I know them. I've operated\n them, before I left Earth. Man,\n you don't expect me to try to fly\n one of those little things in this\n wind? They're tricky as they can\n be, and the passengers are absolutely\n unprotected!\"\n\n\n \"\nSeñor\n, I have asked you to do\n nothing.\"\n\n\n \"No, you haven't,\" muttered\n Jan. \"But you know I'll do it.\"\n\n\n Sanchez looked into his face,\n smiling faintly and a little sadly.\n\n\n \"I was sure you would be willing,\"\n he said. He turned and\n spoke in Spanish to Mrs. Murillo.\n\n\n The woman rose to her feet\n and came to them. As Jan arose,\n she looked up at him, tears in\n her eyes.\n\n\n \"\nGracias\n,\" she murmured. \"\nUn\n millón de gracias.\n\"\n\n\n She lifted his hands in hers\n and kissed them.\n\n\n Jan disengaged himself gently,\n embarrassed. But it occurred to\n him, looking down on the bowed\n head of the beautiful young\n widow, that he might make some\n flying trips back over here in his\n leisure time. Language barriers\n were not impassable, and feminine\n companionship might cure\n his neurotic, history-born distaste\n for Spaniards, for more\n than one reason.\n\n\n Sanchez was tugging at his\n elbow.\n\n\n \"\nSeñor\n, I have been trying to\n tell you,\" he said. \"It is generous\n and good of you, and I wanted\nSeñora\nMurillo to know what a\n brave man you are. But have you\n forgotten that we have no gasoline\n engines here? There is no\n fuel for the flying platform.\"\nThe platform was in a warehouse\n which, like the rest of the\n structures in Rathole, was a\n half-buried dome. The platform's\n ring-shaped base was less than a\n meter thick, standing on four\n metal legs. On top of it, in the\n center, was a railed circle that\n would hold two men, but would\n crowd them. Two small gasoline\n engines sat on each side of this\n railed circle and between them on\n a third side was the fuel tank.\n The passengers entered it on the\n fourth side.\n\n\n The machine was dusty and\n spotted with rust, Jan, surrounded\n by Sanchez, Diego and a dozen\n men, inspected it thoughtfully.\n The letters USN*SES were\n painted in white on the platform\n itself, and each engine bore the\n label \"Hiller.\"\n\n\n Jan peered over the edge of the\n platform at the twin-ducted fans\n in their plastic shrouds. They\n appeared in good shape. Each\n was powered by one of the engines,\n transmitted to it by heavy\n rubber belts.\n\n\n Jan sighed. It was an unhappy\n situation. As far as he could determine,\n without making tests,\n the engines were in perfect condition.\n Two perfectly good engines,\n and no fuel for them.\n\n\n \"You're sure there's no gasoline,\n anywhere in Rathole?\" he\n asked Sanchez.\n\n\n Sanchez smiled ruefully, as he\n had once before, at Jan's appellation\n for the community. The inhabitants'\n term for it was simply\n \"\nLa Ciudad Nuestra\n\"—\"Our\n Town.\" But he made no protest.\n He turned to one of the other\n men and talked rapidly for a few\n moments in Spanish.\n\n\n \"None,\nseñor\n,\" he said, turning\n back to Jan. \"The Americans, of\n course, kept much of it when\n they were here, but the few\n things we take to Oostpoort to\n trade could not buy precious gasoline.\n We have electricity in\n plenty if you can power the platform\n with it.\"\n\n\n Jan thought that over, trying\n to find a way.\n\n\n \"No, it wouldn't work,\" he\n said. \"We could rig batteries on\n the platform and electric motors\n to turn the propellers. But batteries\n big enough to power it all\n the way to Oostpoort would be\n so heavy the machine couldn't lift\n them off the ground. If there\n were some way to carry a power\n line all the way to Oostpoort, or\n to broadcast the power to it....\n But it's a light-load machine,\n and must have an engine that\n gives it the necessary power from\n very little weight.\"\n\n\n Wild schemes ran through his\n head. If they were on water, instead\n of land, he could rig up a\n sail. He could still rig up a sail,\n for a groundcar, except for the\n chasm out on Den Hoorn.\n\n\n The groundcar! Jan straightened\n and snapped his fingers.\n\n\n \"Doctor!\" he explained. \"Send\n a couple of men to drain the rest\n of the fuel from my groundcar.\n And let's get this platform above\n ground and tie it down until we\n can get it started.\"\n\n\n Sanchez gave rapid orders in\n Spanish. Two of the men left at a\n run, carrying five-gallon cans\n with them.\n\n\n Three others picked up the\n platform and carried it up a ramp\n and outside. As soon as they\n reached ground level, the wind\n hit them. They dropped the platform\n to the ground, where it\n shuddered and swayed momentarily,\n and two of the men fell\n successfully on their stomachs.\n The wind caught the third and\n somersaulted him half a dozen\n times before he skidded to a stop\n on his back with outstretched\n arms and legs. He turned over\n cautiously and crawled back to\n them.\n\n\n Jan, his head just above\n ground level, surveyed the terrain.\n There was flat ground to\n the east, clear in a fairly broad\n alley for at least half a kilometer\n before any of the domes protruded\n up into it.\n\n\n \"This is as good a spot for\n takeoff as we'll find,\" he said to\n Sanchez.\n\n\n The men put three heavy ropes\n on the platform's windward rail\n and secured it by them to the\n heavy chain that ran by the\n dome. The platform quivered and\n shuddered in the heavy wind, but\n its base was too low for it to\n overturn.\n\n\n Shortly the two men returned\n with the fuel from the groundcar,\n struggling along the chain.\n Jan got above ground in a\n crouch, clinging to the rail of the\n platform, and helped them fill\n the fuel tank with it. He primed\n the carburetors and spun the\n engines.\n\n\n Nothing happened.\nHe turned the engines over\n again. One of them coughed, and\n a cloud of blue smoke burst from\n its exhaust, but they did not\n catch.\n\n\n \"What is the matter,\nseñor\n?\"\n asked Sanchez from the dome entrance.\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" replied Jan.\n \"Maybe it's that the engines\n haven't been used in so long. I'm\n afraid I'm not a good enough\n mechanic to tell.\"\n\n\n \"Some of these men were good\n mechanics when the navy was\n here,\" said Sanchez. \"Wait.\"\n\n\n He turned and spoke to someone\n in the dome. One of the men\n of Rathole came to Jan's side and\n tried the engines. They refused\n to catch. The man made carburetor\n adjustments and tried\n again. No success.\n\n\n He sniffed, took the cap from\n the fuel tank and stuck a finger\n inside. He withdrew it, wet and\n oily, and examined it. He turned\n and spoke to Sanchez.\n\n\n \"He says that your groundcar\n must have a diesel engine,\" Sanchez\n interpreted to Jan. \"Is that\n correct?\"\n\n\n \"Why, yes, that's true.\"\n\n\n \"He says the fuel will not work\n then,\nseñor\n. He says it is low-grade\n fuel and the platform must\n have high octane gasoline.\"\n\n\n Jan threw up his hands and\n went back into the dome.\n\n\n \"I should have known that,\" he\n said unhappily. \"I would have\n known if I had thought of it.\"\n\n\n \"What is to be done, then?\"\n asked Sanchez.\n\n\n \"There's nothing that can be\n done,\" answered Jan. \"They may\n as well put the fuel back in my\n groundcar.\"\n\n\n Sanchez called orders to the\n men at the platform. While they\n worked, Jan stared out at the\n furiously spinning windmills that\n dotted Rathole.\n\n\n \"There's nothing that can be\n done,\" he repeated. \"We can't\n make the trip overland because\n of the chasm out there in Den\n Hoorn, and we can't fly the platform\n because we have no power\n for it.\"\n\n\n Windmills. Again Jan could\n imagine the flat land around\n them as his native Holland, with\n the Zuider Zee sparkling to the\n west where here the desert\n stretched under darkling clouds.\nJan looked at his watch. A\n little more than two hours before\n the G-boat's blastoff time, and it\n couldn't wait for them. It was\n nearly eight hours since he had\n left Oostpoort, and the afternoon\n was getting noticeably\n darker.\n\n\n Jan was sorry. He had done his\n best, but Venus had beaten him.\n\n\n He looked around for Diego.\n The boy was not in the dome. He\n was outside, crouched in the lee\n of the dome, playing with some\n sticks.\n\n\n Diego must know of his ailment,\n and why he had to go to\n Oostpoort. If Jan was any judge\n of character, Sanchez would have\n told him that. Whether Diego\n knew it was a life-or-death matter\n for him to be aboard the\nVanderdecken\nwhen it blasted\n off for Earth, Jan did not know.\n But the boy was around eight\n years old and he was bright, and\n he must realize the seriousness\n involved in a decision to send him\n all the way to Earth.\n\n\n Jan felt ashamed of the exuberant\n foolishness which had\n led him to spout ancient history\n and claim descent from William\n of Orange. It had been a hobby,\n and artificial topic for conversation\n that amused him and his\n companions, a defense against\n the monotony of Venus that had\n begun to affect his personality\n perhaps a bit more than he realized.\n He did not dislike Spaniards;\n he had no reason to dislike\n them. They were all humans—the\n Spanish, the Dutch, the Germans,\n the Americans, even the\n Russians—fighting a hostile\n planet together. He could not understand\n a word Diego said when\n the boy spoke to him, but he\n liked Diego and wished desperately\n he could do something.\n\n\n Outside, the windmills of Rathole\n spun merrily.\n\n\n There was power, the power\n that lighted and air-conditioned\n Rathole, power in the air all\n around them. If he could only use\n it! But to turn the platform on\n its side and let the wind spin the\n propellers was pointless.\n\n\n He turned to Sanchez.\n\n\n \"Ask the men if there are any\n spare parts for the platform,\" he\n said. \"Some of those legs it\n stands on, transmission belts,\n spare propellers.\"\n\n\n Sanchez asked.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" he said. \"Many spare\n parts, but no fuel.\"\n\n\n Jan smiled a tight smile.\n\n\n \"Tell them to take the engines\n out,\" he said. \"Since we have no\n fuel, we may as well have no\n engines.\"\nPieter Heemskerk stood by the\n ramp to the stubby G-boat and\n checked his watch. It was X\n minus fifteen—fifteen minutes\n before blastoff time.\n\n\n Heemskerk wore a spacesuit.\n Everything was ready, except\n climbing aboard, closing the airlock\n and pressing the firing pin.\n\n\n What on Venus could have happened\n to Van Artevelde? The last\n radio message they had received,\n more than an hour ago, had said\n he and the patient took off successfully\n in an aircraft. What\n sort of aircraft could he be flying\n that would require an hour to\n cover eighty kilometers, with the\n wind?\n\n\n Heemskerk could only draw the\n conclusion that the aircraft had\n been wrecked somewhere in Den\n Hoorn. As a matter of fact, he\n knew that preparations were being\n made now to send a couple of\n groundcars out to search for it.\n\n\n This, of course, would be too\n late to help the patient Van Artevelde\n was bringing, but Heemskerk\n had no personal interest in\n the patient. His worry was all for\n his friend. The two of them had\n enjoyed chess and good beer together\n on his last three trips to\n Venus, and Heemskerk hoped\n very sincerely that the big blond\n man wasn't hurt.\n\n\n He glanced at his watch again.\n X minus twelve. In two minutes,\n it would be time for him to walk\n up the ramp into the G-boat. In\n seven minutes the backward\n count before blastoff would start\n over the area loudspeakers.\n\n\n Heemskerk shook his head sadly.\n And Van Artevelde had promised\n to come back triumphant,\n with a broom at his masthead!\n\n\n It was a high thin whine borne\n on the wind, carrying even\n through the walls of his spacehelmet,\n that attracted Heemskerk's\n attention and caused him\n to pause with his foot on the\n ramp. Around him, the rocket\n mechanics were staring up at the\n sky, trying to pinpoint the noise.\n\n\n Heemskerk looked westward.\n At first he could see nothing,\n then there was a moving dot\n above the mountain, against the\n indigo umbrella of clouds. It\n grew, it swooped, it approached\n and became a strange little flying\n disc with two people standing on\n it and\nsomething\nsticking up\n from its deck in front of them.\n\n\n A broom?\n\n\n No. The platform hovered and\n began to settle nearby, and there\n was Van Artevelde leaning over\n its rail and fiddling frantically\n with whatever it was that stuck\n up on it—a weird, angled contraption\n of pipes and belts topped\n by a whirring blade. A boy stood\n at his shoulder and tried to help\n him. As the platform descended\n to a few meters above ground,\n the Dutchman slashed at the contraption,\n the cut ends of belts\n whipped out wildly and the platform\n slid to the ground with a\n rush. It hit with a clatter and its\n two passengers tumbled prone to\n the ground.\n\n\n \"Jan!\" boomed Heemskerk,\n forcing his voice through the helmet\n diaphragm and rushing over\n to his friend. \"I was afraid you\n were lost!\"\n\n\n Jan struggled to his feet and\n leaned down to help the boy up.\n\n\n \"Here's your patient, Pieter,\"\n he said. \"Hope you have a spacesuit\n in his size.\"\n\n\n \"I can find one. And we'll have\n to hurry for blastoff. But, first,\n what happened? Even that\n damned thing ought to get here\n from Rathole faster than that.\"\n\n\n \"Had no fuel,\" replied Jan\n briefly. \"My engines were all\n right, but I had no power to run\n them. So I had to pull the engines\n and rig up a power source.\"\n\n\n Heemskerk stared at the platform.\n On its railing was rigged a\n tripod of battered metal pipes,\n atop which a big four-blade propeller\n spun slowly in what wind\n was left after it came over the\n western mountain. Over the\n edges of the platform, running\n from the two propellers in its\n base, hung a series of tattered\n transmission belts.\n\n\n \"Power source?\" repeated\n Heemskerk. \"That?\"\n\n\n \"Certainly,\" replied Jan with\n dignity. \"The power source any\n good Dutchman turns to in an\n emergency: a windmill!\"\nTHE END\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAmazing Science Fiction Stories\nApril 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\n Minor spelling and typographical errors\n have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does Jan have to go to Rathole?", "question_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8_1", "options": ["Jan wants to see how the people in Rathole are living. ", "Jan needs to take fuel to Rathole because they have run out. ", "Someone is sick and needs to be taken to Earth on the Vanderdecken. ", "Someone is sick and Jan needs to bring medicine to him. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How far is Rathole from Oostpoort?", "question_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8_2", "options": ["10 hour drive in a car", "10 hour flight ", "2 Earth days", "Half a Venus day "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is Rathole?", "question_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8_3", "options": ["A small city of former Spanish slaves who were taken to Venus by the Dutch. ", "A Spanish colony on Venus. ", "Rathole is a derogatory term for slum on Venus. ", "An old colony turned into a small city by Spanish laborers.  "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship between Diego and Jan?", "question_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8_4", "options": ["Diego is sick and Jan agrees to take him to Oostpoort. ", "Diego needs Jan's help getting his aircraft to fly. ", "Diego and Jan are both Dutch pilots. ", "Jan is Diego's father."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are windmills significant to Jan?", "question_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8_5", "options": ["The windmills make Jan nostalgic for his childhood home on Earth. ", "The windmills are a cure for the Venus Shadow. ", "Jan brought windmills to Venus to power the colonies. ", "Jan invented windmills. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What hinders Jan from leaving Rathole?", "question_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8_6", "options": ["He does not want to help the Spaniards. ", "The weather on Venus makes it impossible to travel long distances. ", "He wants to stay to start a relationship with Diego's mother. ", "He does not have proper transportation because the city has no fuel to power an aircraft. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the Venus Shadow?", "question_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8_7", "options": ["The time of day when travel is impossible because there is no light. ", "The name of Jan's aircraft. ", "A deadly disease that can only be cured by traveling to Earth. ", "The quakes that shake the ground. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Jan get power to the aircraft?", "question_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8_8", "options": ["The Spaniards find fuel left over from the Americans. ", "He creates a makeshift windmill. ", "He uses fuel from his car. ", "He creates a hot air balloon. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Jan change throughout the story?", "question_unique_id": "22590_L3MXZ6V8_9", "options": ["Jan starts out prejudice against the dark-skinned Spaniards but in the end he sees them as humans just like himself. ", "Jan starts out being lazy and selfish, but in the end he learns to care about others. ", "Jan learns to be clever and problem solve dilemmas. ", "Jan realizes that it was wrong to colonize Venus and decides to return to Holland. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/9/22590//22590-h//22590-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22867", "set_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Meeting of the Board", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "Satire; PS; Industrial relations -- Fiction; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nThe Counterfeit Man More Science Fiction\n Stories by Alan E. Nourse\npublished in 1963. Extensive research did\n not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was\n renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected\n without note.\nMeeting\n\n of the\n\n Board\nIt\n was going to be a bad day. As he pushed his way nervously\n through the crowds toward the Exit Strip, Walter Towne\n turned the dismal prospect over and over in his mind. The\n potential gloominess of this particular day had descended upon\n him the instant the morning buzzer had gone off, making it\n even more tempting than usual just to roll over and forget\n about it all. Twenty minutes later, the water-douse came to\n drag him, drenched and gurgling, back to the cruel cold world.\n He had wolfed down his morning Koffee-Kup with one eye\n on the clock and one eye on his growing sense of impending\n crisis. And now, to make things just a trifle worse, he was\n going to be late again.\n\n\n He struggled doggedly across the rumbling Exit strip toward\n the plant entrance. After all, he told himself, why should he be\n so upset? He\nwas\nVice President-in-Charge-of-Production of\n the Robling Titanium Corporation. What could they do to\n him, really? He had rehearsed\nhis\npart many times, squaring\n his thin shoulders, looking the union boss straight in the eye\n and saying, \"Now, see here, Torkleson—\" But he knew, when\n the showdown came, that he wouldn't say any such thing. And\n this was the morning that the showdown would come.\n\n\n Oh, not because of the\nlateness\n. Of course Bailey, the shop\n steward, would take his usual delight in bringing that up. But\n this seemed hardly worthy of concern this morning. The reports\n waiting on his desk were what worried him. The sales\n reports. The promotion-draw reports. The royalty reports. The\n anticipated dividend reports. Walter shook his head wearily.\n The shop steward was a goad, annoying, perhaps even infuriating,\n but tolerable. Torkleson was a different matter.\n\n\n He pulled his worn overcoat down over frayed shirt sleeves,\n and tried vainly to straighten the celluloid collar that kept\n scooting his tie up under his ear. Once off the moving strip, he\n started up the Robling corridor toward the plant gate. Perhaps\n he would be fortunate. Maybe the reports would be late.\n Maybe his secretary's two neurones would fail to synapse this\n morning, and she'd lose them altogether. And, as long as he\n was dreaming, maybe Bailey would break his neck on the way\n to work. He walked quickly past the workers' lounge, glancing\n in at the groups of men, arguing politics and checking the\n stock market reports before they changed from their neat gray\n business suits to their welding dungarees. Running up the\n stairs to the administrative wing, he paused outside the door\n to punch the time clock. 8:04. Damn. If only Bailey could be\n sick—\n\n\n Bailey was not sick. The administrative offices were humming\n with frantic activity as Walter glanced down the rows\n of cubbyholes. In the middle of it all sat Bailey, in his black-and-yellow\n checkered tattersall, smoking a large cigar. His\n feet were planted on his desk top, but he hadn't started on his\n morning Western yet. He was busy glaring, first at the clock,\n then at Walter.\n\n\n \"Late again, I see,\" the shop steward growled.\n\n\n Walter gulped. \"Yes, sir. Just four minutes, this time, sir.\n You know those crowded strips—\"\n\n\n \"So it's\njust\nfour minutes now, eh?\" Bailey's feet came down\n with a crash. \"After last month's fine production record, you\n think four minutes doesn't matter, eh? Think just because\n you're a vice president it's all right to mosey in here whenever\n you feel like it.\" He glowered. \"Well, this is three times this\n month you've been late, Towne. That's a demerit for each\n time, and you know what that means.\"\n\n\n \"You wouldn't count four minutes as a whole demerit!\"\n\n\n Bailey grinned. \"Wouldn't I, now! You just add up your\n pay envelope on Friday. Ten cents an hour off for each\n demerit.\"\n\n\n Walter sighed and shuffled back to his desk. Oh, well. It\n could have been worse. They might have fired him like poor\n Cartwright last month. He'd just\nhave\nto listen to that morning\n buzzer.\n\n\n The reports were on his desk. He picked them up warily.\n Maybe they wouldn't be so bad. He'd had more freedom this\n last month than before, maybe there'd been a policy change.\n Maybe Torkleson was gaining confidence in him. Maybe—\n\n\n The reports were worse than he had ever dreamed.\n\n\n \"\nTowne!\n\"\n\n\n Walter jumped a foot. Bailey was putting down the visiphone\n receiver. His grin spread unpleasantly from ear to ear.\n \"What have you been doing lately? Sabotaging the production\n line?\"\n\n\n \"What's the trouble now?\"\n\n\n Bailey jerked a thumb significantly at the ceiling. \"The\n boss wants to see you. And you'd better have the right answers,\n too. The boss seems to have a lot of questions.\"\n\n\n Walter rose slowly from his seat. This was it, then. Torkleson\n had already seen the reports. He started for the door, his\n knees shaking.\n\n\n It hadn't always been like this, he reflected miserably.\n Time was when things had been very different. It had\nmeant\nsomething to be vice president of a huge industrial firm like\n Robling Titanium. A man could have had a fine house of\n his own, and a 'copter-car, and belong to the Country Club;\n maybe even have a cottage on a lake somewhere.\n\n\n Walter could almost remember those days with Robling,\n before the switchover, before that black day when the exchange\n of ten little shares of stock had thrown the Robling\n Titanium Corporation into the hands of strange and unnatural\n owners.\nThe door was of heavy stained oak, with bold letters edged\n in gold:\nTITANIUM WORKERS\n\n OF AMERICA\n\n Amalgamated Locals\n\n Daniel P. Torkleson, Secretary\n\n\n The secretary flipped down the desk switch and eyed Walter\n with pity. \"Mr. Torkleson will see you.\"\n\n\n Walter pushed through the door into the long, handsome\n office. For an instant he felt a pang of nostalgia—the floor-to-ceiling\n windows looking out across the long buildings of the\n Robling plant, the pine paneling, the broad expanse of desk—\n\n\n \"Well? Don't just stand there. Shut the door and come over\n here.\" The man behind the desk hoisted his three hundred\n well-dressed pounds and glared at Walter from under flagrant\n eyebrows. Torkleson's whole body quivered as he slammed\n a sheaf of papers down on the desk. \"Just what do you think\n you're doing with this company, Towne?\"\n\n\n Walter swallowed. \"I'm production manager of the corporation.\"\n\n\n \"And just what does the production manager\ndo\nall day?\"\n\n\n Walter reddened. \"He organizes the work of the plant, establishes\n production lines, works with Promotion and Sales,\n integrates Research and Development, operates the planning\n machines.\"\n\n\n \"And you think you do a pretty good job of it, eh? Even\n asked for a raise last year!\" Torkleson's voice was dangerous.\n\n\n Walter spread his hands. \"I do my best. I've been doing it\n for thirty years. I should know what I'm doing.\"\n\n\n \"\nThen how do you explain these reports?\n\" Torkleson threw\n the heap of papers into Walter's arms, and paced up and down\n behind the desk. \"\nLook\nat them! Sales at rock bottom. Receipts\n impossible. Big orders canceled. The worst reports in\n seven years, and you say you know your job!\"\n\n\n \"I've been doing everything I could,\" Walter snapped. \"Of\n course the reports are bad, they couldn't help but be. We\n haven't met a production schedule in over two years. No plant\n can keep up production the way the men are working.\"\n\n\n Torkleson's face darkened. He leaned forward slowly. \"So\n it's the\nmen\nnow, is it? Go ahead. Tell me what's wrong with\n the men.\"\n\n\n \"Nothing's wrong with the men—if they'd only work. But\n they come in when they please, and leave when they please,\n and spend half their time changing and the other half on\n Koffee-Kup. No company could survive this. But that's only\n half of it—\" Walter searched through the reports frantically.\n \"This International Jet Transport account—they dropped us\n because we haven't had a new engine in six years. Why? Because\n Research and Development hasn't had any money for\n six years. What can two starved engineers and a second rate\n chemist drag out of an attic laboratory for competition in the\n titanium market?\" Walter took a deep breath. \"I've warned\n you time and again. Robling had built up accounts over the\n years with fine products and new models. But since the switchover\n seven years ago, you and your board have forced me to\n play the cheap products for the quick profit in order to give\n your men their dividends. Now the bottom's dropped out. We\n couldn't turn a quick profit on the big, important accounts, so\n we had to cancel them. If you had let me manage the company\n the way it should have been run—\"\n\n\n Torkleson had been slowly turning purple. Now he slammed\n his fist down on the desk. \"We should just turn the company\n back to Management again, eh? Just let you have a free hand\n to rob us blind again. Well, it won't work, Towne. Not while\n I'm secretary of this union. We fought long and hard for control\n of this corporation, just the way all the other unions did.\n I know. I was through it all.\" He sat back smugly, his cheeks\n quivering with emotion. \"You might say that I was a national\n leader in the movement. But I did it only for the men. The\n men want their dividends. They own the stock, stock is supposed\n to pay dividends.\"\n\n\n \"But they're cutting their own throats,\" Walter wailed.\n \"You can't build a company and make it grow the way I've\n been forced to run it.\"\n\n\n \"Details!\" Torkleson snorted. \"I don't care\nhow\nthe dividends\n come in. That's your job. My job is to report a dividend\n every six months to the men who own the stock, the men working\n on the production lines.\"\n\n\n Walter nodded bitterly. \"And every year the dividend has\n to be higher than the last, or you and your fat friends are\n likely to be thrown out of your jobs—right? No more steaks\n every night. No more private gold-plated Buicks for you boys.\n No more twenty-room mansions in Westchester. No more big\n game hunting in the Rockies. No, you don't have to know\n anything but how to whip a board meeting into a frenzy so\n they'll vote you into office again each year.\"\n\n\n Torkleson's eyes glittered. His voice was very soft. \"I've always\n liked you, Walter. So I'm going to pretend I didn't hear\n you.\" He paused, then continued. \"But here on my desk is a\n small bit of white paper. Unless you have my signature on\n that paper on the first of next month, you are out of a job,\n on grounds of incompetence. And I will personally see that\n you go on every White list in the country.\"\n\n\n Walter felt the fight go out of him like a dying wind. He\n knew what the White list meant. No job, anywhere, ever, in\n management. No chance, ever, to join a union. No more\n house, no more weekly pay envelope. He spread his hands\n weakly. \"What do you want?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"I want a production plan on my desk within twenty-four\n hours. A plan that will guarantee me a five per cent increase\n in dividends in the next six months. And you'd better move\n fast, because I'm not fooling.\"\nBack in his cubbyhole downstairs, Walter stared hopelessly\n at the reports. He had known it would come to this sooner or\n later. They all knew it—Hendricks of Promotion, Pendleton\n of Sales, the whole managerial staff.\n\n\n It was wrong, all the way down the line. Walter had\n fought it tooth and nail since the day Torkleson had installed\n the moose heads in Walter's old office, and moved him down\n to the cubbyhole, under Bailey's watchful eye. He had argued,\n and battled, and pleaded, and lost. He had watched the company\n deteriorate day by day. Now they blamed him, and\n threatened his job, and he was helpless to do anything about it.\n\n\n He stared at the machines, clicking busily against the wall.\n An idea began to form in his head. Helpless?\n\n\n Not quite. Not if the others could see it, go along with it.\n It was a repugnant idea. But there was one thing they could\n do that even Torkleson and his fat-jowled crew would understand.\n\n\n They could go on strike.\n\"It's ridiculous,\" the lawyer spluttered, staring at the circle\n of men in the room. \"How can I give you an opinion on the\n legality of the thing? There isn't any legal precedent that I\n know of.\" He mopped his bald head with a large white handkerchief.\n \"There just hasn't\nbeen\na case of a company's management\n striking against its own labor. It—it isn't done. Oh,\n there have been lockouts, but this isn't the same thing at all.\"\n\n\n Walter nodded. \"Well, we couldn't very well lock the men\n out, they own the plant. We were thinking more of a lock-\nin\nsort of thing.\" He turned to Paul Hendricks and the others.\n \"We know how the machines operate. They don't. We also\n know that the data we keep in the machines is essential to\n running the business; the machines figure production quotas,\n organize blueprints, prepare distribution lists, test promotion\n schemes. It would take an office full of managerial experts to\n handle even a single phase of the work without the machines.\"\n\n\n The man at the window hissed, and Pendleton quickly\n snapped out the lights. They sat in darkness, hardly daring to\n breathe. Then: \"Okay. Just the man next door coming home.\"\n\n\n Pendleton sighed. \"You're sure you didn't let them suspect\n anything, Walter? They wouldn't be watching the house?\"\n\n\n \"I don't think so. And you all came alone, at different\n times.\" He nodded to the window guard, and turned back to\n the lawyer. \"So we can't be sure of the legal end. You'd have\n to be on your toes.\"\n\n\n \"I still don't see how we could work it,\" Hendricks objected.\n His heavy face was wrinkled with worry. \"Torkleson is no\n fool, and he has a lot of power in the National Association of\n Union Stockholders. All he'd need to do is ask for managers,\n and a dozen companies would throw them to him on loan.\n They'd be able to figure out the machine system and take over\n without losing a day.\"\n\n\n \"Not quite.\" Walter was grinning. \"That's why I spoke of\n a lock-in. Before we leave, we throw the machines into feedback,\n every one of them. Lock them into reverberating circuits\n with a code sequence key. Then all they'll do is buzz and sputter\n until the feedback is broken with the key. And the key is\n our secret. It'll tie the Robling office into granny knots, and\n scabs won't be able to get any more data out of the machines\n than Torkleson could. With a lawyer to handle injunctions,\n we've got them strapped.\"\n\n\n \"For what?\" asked the lawyer.\n\n\n Walter turned on him sharply. \"For new contracts. Contracts\n to let us manage the company the way it should be managed.\n If they won't do it, they won't get another Titanium\n product off their production lines for the rest of the year, and\n their dividends will\nreally\ntake a nosedive.\"\n\n\n \"That means you'll have to beat Torkleson,\" said Bates.\n \"He'll never go along.\"\n\n\n \"Then he'll be left behind.\"\n\n\n Hendricks stood up, brushing off his dungarees. \"I'm with\n you, Walter. I've taken all of Torkleson that I want to. And\n I'm sick of the junk we've been trying to sell people.\"\n\n\n The others nodded. Walter rubbed his hands together. \"All\n right. Tomorrow we work as usual, until the noon whistle.\n When we go off for lunch, we throw the machines into lock-step.\n Then we just don't come back. But the big thing is to\n keep it quiet until the noon whistle.\" He turned to the lawyer.\n \"Are you with us, Jeff?\"\n\n\n Jeff Bates shook his head sadly. \"I'm with you. I don't know\n why, you haven't got a leg to stand on. But if you want to\n commit suicide, that's all right with me.\" He picked up his\n briefcase, and started for the door. \"I'll have your contract\n demands by tomorrow,\" he grinned. \"See you at the lynching.\"\n\n\n They got down to the details of planning.\nThe news hit the afternoon telecasts the following day.\n Headlines screamed:\nMANAGEMENT SABOTAGES ROBLING MACHINES\n\n OFFICE STRIKERS THREATEN LABOR ECONOMY\n\n ROBLING LOCK-IN CREATES PANDEMONIUM\n\n\n There was a long, indignant statement from Daniel P.\n Torkleson, condemning Towne and his followers for \"flagrant\n violation of management contracts and illegal fouling of managerial\n processes.\" Ben Starkey, President of the Board of\n American Steel, expressed \"shock and regret\"; the Amalgamated\n Buttonhole Makers held a mass meeting in protest, demanding\n that \"the instigators of this unprecedented crime be\n permanently barred from positions in American Industry.\"\n\n\n In Washington, the nation's economists were more cautious\n in their views. Yes, it\nwas\nan unprecedented action. Yes, there\n would undoubtedly be repercussions—many industries were\n having managerial troubles; but as for long term effects, it was\n difficult to say just at present.\n\n\n On the Robling production lines the workmen blinked at\n each other, and at their machines, and wondered vaguely what\n it was all about.\n\n\n Yet in all the upheaval, there was very little expression of\n surprise. Step by step, through the years, economists had been\n watching with wary eyes the growing movement toward union,\n control of industry. Even as far back as the '40's and '50's\n unions, finding themselves oppressed with the administration\n of growing sums of money—pension funds, welfare funds,\n medical insurance funds, accruing union dues—had begun investing\n in corporate stock. It was no news to them that money\n could make money. And what stock more logical to buy than\n stock in their own companies?\n\n\n At first it had been a quiet movement. One by one the\n smaller firms had tottered, bled drier and drier by increasing\n production costs, increasing labor demands, and an ever-dwindling\n margin of profit. One by one they had seen their\n stocks tottering as they faced bankruptcy, only to be gobbled\n up by the one ready buyer with plenty of funds to buy with.\n At first, changes had been small and insignificant: boards of\n directors shifted; the men were paid higher wages and worked\n shorter hours; there were tighter management policies; and\n a little less money was spent on extras like Research and\n Development.\n\n\n At first—until that fateful night when Daniel P. Torkleson\n of TWA and Jake Squill of Amalgamated Buttonhole Makers\n spent a long evening with beer and cigars in a hotel room, and\n floated the loan that threw steel to the unions. Oil had followed\n with hardly a fight, and as the unions began to feel their oats,\n the changes grew more radical.\n\n\n Walter Towne remembered those stormy days well. The\n gradual undercutting of the managerial salaries, the tightening\n up of inter-union collusion to establish the infamous White\n list of Recalcitrant Managers. The shift from hourly wage to\n annual salary for the factory workers, and the change to the\n other pole for the managerial staff. And then, with creeping\n malignancy, the hungry howling of the union bosses for more\n and higher dividends, year after year, moving steadily toward\n the inevitable crisis.\n\n\n Until Shop Steward Bailey suddenly found himself in charge\n of a dozen sputtering machines and an empty office.\nTorkleson was waiting to see the shop steward when he\n came in next morning. The union boss's office was crowded\n with TV cameras, newsmen, and puzzled workmen. The floor\n was littered with piles of ominous-looking paper. Torkleson\n was shouting into a telephone, and three lawyers were shouting\n into Torkleson's ear. He spotted Bailey and waved him through\n the crowd into an inner office room. \"Well? Did they get them\n fixed?\"\n\n\n Bailey spread his hands nervously. \"The electronics boys\n have been at it since yesterday afternoon. Practically had the\n machines apart on the floor.\"\n\n\n \"I know that, stupid,\" Torkleson roared. \"I ordered them\n there. Did they get the machines\nfixed\n?\"\n\n\n \"Uh—well, no, as a matter of fact—\"\n\n\n \"Well,\nwhat's holding them up\n?\"\n\n\n Bailey's face was a study in misery. \"The machines just go\n in circles. The circuits are locked. They just reverberate.\"\n\n\n \"Then call American Electronics. Have them send down an\n expert crew.\"\n\n\n Bailey shook his head. \"They won't come.\"\n\n\n \"They\nwhat\n?\"\n\n\n \"They said thanks, but no thanks. They don't want their\n fingers in this pie at all.\"\n\n\n \"Wait until I get O'Gilvy on the phone.\"\n\n\n \"It won't do any good, sir. They've got their own management\n troubles. They're scared silly of a sympathy strike.\"\n\n\n The door burst open, and a lawyer stuck his head in. \"What\n about those injunctions, Dan?\"\n\n\n \"Get them moving,\" Torkleson howled. \"They'll start those\n machines again, or I'll have them in jail so fast—\" He turned\n back to Bailey. \"What about the production lines?\"\n\n\n The shop steward's face lighted. \"They slipped up, there.\n There was one program that hadn't been coded into the machines\n yet. Just a minor item, but it's a starter. We found it in\n Towne's desk, blueprints all ready, promotion all planned.\"\n\n\n \"Good, good,\" Torkleson breathed. \"I have a directors'\n meeting right now, have to get the workers quieted down a\n bit. You put the program through, and give those electronics\n men three more hours to unsnarl this knot, or we throw them\n out of the union.\" He started for the door. \"What were the\n blueprints for?\"\n\n\n \"Trash cans,\" said Bailey. \"Pure titanium-steel trash cans.\"\n\n\n It took Robling Titanium approximately two days to convert\n its entire production line to titanium-steel trash cans. With the\n total resources of the giant plant behind the effort, production\n was phenomenal. In two more days the available markets were\n glutted. Within two weeks, at a conservative estimate, there\n would be a titanium-steel trash can for every man, woman,\n child, and hound dog on the North American continent. The\n jet engines, structural steels, tubing, and other pre-strike products\n piled up in the freight yards, their routing slips and order\n requisitions tied up in the reverberating machines.\n\n\n But the machines continued to buzz and sputter.\n\n\n The workers grew restive. From the first day, Towne and\n Hendricks and all the others had been picketing the plant,\n until angry crowds of workers had driven them off with shotguns.\n Then they came back in an old, weatherbeaten 'copter\n which hovered over the plant entrance carrying a banner with\n a plaintive message:\n robling titanium unfair to management\n .\n Tomatoes were hurled, fists were shaken, but the 'copter\n remained.\n\n\n The third day, Jeff Bates was served with an injunction ordering\n Towne to return to work. It was duly appealed, legal\n machinery began tying itself in knots, and the strikers still\n struck. By the fifth day there was a more serious note.\n\n\n \"You're going to have to appear, Walter. We can't dodge\n this one.\"\n\n\n \"When?\"\n\n\n \"Tomorrow morning. And before a labor-rigged judge, too.\"\n The little lawyer paced his office nervously. \"I don't like it.\n Torkleson's getting desperate. The workers are putting pressure\n on him.\"\n\n\n Walter grinned. \"Then Pendleton is doing a good job of\n selling.\"\n\n\n \"But you haven't got\ntime\n,\" the lawyer wailed. \"They'll have\n you in jail if you don't start the machines again. They may\n have you in jail if you\ndo\nstart them, too, but that's another\n bridge. Right now they want those machines going again.\"\n\n\n \"We'll see,\" said Walter. \"What time tomorrow?\"\n\n\n \"Ten o'clock.\" Bates looked up. \"And don't try to skip.\n You be there, because\nI\ndon't know what to tell them.\"\n\n\n Walter was there a half hour early. Torkleson's legal staff\n glowered from across the room. The judge glowered from\n the bench. Walter closed his eyes with a little smile as the\n charges were read: \"—breach of contract, malicious mischief,\n sabotage of the company's machines, conspiring to destroy the\n livelihood of ten thousand workers. Your Honor, we are preparing\n briefs to prove further that these men have formed a\n conspiracy to undermine the economy of the entire nation.\n We appeal to the spirit of orderly justice—\"\n\n\n Walter yawned as the words went on.\n\n\n \"Of course, if the defendant will waive his appeals against\n the previous injunctions, and will release the machines that\n were sabotaged, we will be happy to formally withdraw these\n charges.\"\n\n\n There was a rustle of sound through the courtroom. His\n Honor turned to Jeff Bates. \"Are you counsel for the defendant?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir.\" Bates mopped his bald scalp. \"The defendant\n pleads guilty to all counts.\"\n\n\n The union lawyer dropped his glasses on the table with a\n crash. The judge stared. \"Mr. Bates, if you plead guilty, you\n leave me no alternative—\"\n\n\n \"—but to send me to jail,\" said Walter Towne. \"Go ahead.\n Send me to jail. In fact, I\ninsist\nupon going to jail.\"\n\n\n The union lawyer's jaw sagged. There was a hurried conference.\n A recess was pleaded. Telephones buzzed. Then:\n \"Your Honor, the plaintiff desires to withdraw all charges at\n this time.\"\n\n\n \"Objection,\" Bates exclaimed. \"We've already pleaded.\"\n\n\n \"—feel sure that a settlement can be effected out of court—\"\n\n\n The case was thrown out on its ear.\n\n\n And still the machines sputtered.\nBack at the plant rumor had it that the machines were permanently\n gutted, and that the plant could never go back into\n production. Conflicting scuttlebutt suggested that persons high\n in uniondom had perpetrated the crisis deliberately, bullying\n Management into the strike for the sole purpose of cutting current\n dividends and selling stock to themselves cheaply. The\n rumors grew easier and easier to believe. The workers came\n to the plants in business suits, it was true, and lounged in the\n finest of lounges, and read the\nWall Street Journal\n, and felt like\n stockholders. But to face facts, their salaries were not the\n highest. Deduct union dues, pension fees, medical insurance\n fees, and sundry other little items which had formerly been\n paid by well-to-do managements, and very little was left but\n the semi-annual dividend checks. And now the dividends were\n tottering.\n\n\n Production lines slowed. There were daily brawls on the\n plant floor, in the lounge and locker rooms. Workers began\n joking about the trash cans; then the humor grew more and\n more remote. Finally, late in the afternoon of the eighth day,\n Bailey was once again in Torkleson's office.\n\n\n \"Well? Speak up! What's the beef this time?\"\n\n\n \"Sir—the men—I mean, there's been some nasty talk.\n They're tired of making trash cans. No challenge in it. Anyway,\n the stock room is full, and the freight yard is full, and\n the last run of orders we sent out came back because nobody\n wants any more trash cans.\" Bailey shook his head. \"The men\n won't swallow it any more. There's—well, there's been talk\n about having a board meeting.\"\n\n\n Torkleson's ruddy cheeks paled. \"Board meeting, huh?\"\n He licked his heavy lips. \"Now look, Bailey, we've always\n worked well together. I consider you a good friend of mine.\n You've got to get things under control. Tell the men we're\n making progress. Tell them Management is beginning to\n weaken from its original stand. Tell them we expect to have\n the strike broken in another few hours. Tell them anything.\"\n\n\n He waited until Bailey was gone. Then, with a trembling\n hand he lifted the visiphone receiver. \"Get me Walter Towne,\"\n he said.\n\"I'm not an unreasonable man,\" Torkleson was saying\n miserably, waving his fat paws in the air as he paced back and\n forth in front of the spokesmen for the striking managers.\n \"Perhaps we were a little demanding, I concede it! Overenthusiastic\n with our ownership, and all that. But I'm sure we\n can come to some agreement. A hike in wage scale is certainly\n within reason. Perhaps we can even arrange for better company\n houses.\"\n\n\n Walter Towne stifled a yawn. \"Perhaps you didn't understand\n us. The men are agitating for a meeting of the board of\n directors. We want to be at that meeting. That's the only thing\n we're interested in right now.\"\n\n\n \"But there wasn't anything about a board meeting in the\n contract your lawyer presented.\"\n\n\n \"I know, but you rejected that contract. So we tore it up.\n Anyway, we've changed our minds.\"\n\n\n Torkleson sat down, his heavy cheeks quivering. \"Gentlemen,\n be reasonable! I can guarantee you your jobs, even give\n you a free hand with the management. So the dividends won't be\n so large—the men will have to get used to that. That's it, we'll\n put it through at the next executive conference, give you—\"\n\n\n \"The board meeting,\" Walter said gently. \"That'll be enough\n for us.\"\n\n\n The union boss swore and slammed his fist on the desk.\n \"Walk out in front of those men after what you've done? You're\n fools! Well, I've given you your chance. You'll get your board\n meeting. But you'd better come armed. Because I know how\n to handle this kind of board meeting, and if I have anything\n to say about it, this one will end with a massacre.\"\nThe meeting was held in a huge auditorium in the Robling\n administration building. Since every member of the union\n owned stock in the company, every member had the right to\n vote for members of the board of directors. But in the early\n days of the switchover, the idea of a board of directors smacked\n too strongly of the old system of corporate organization to suit\n the men. The solution had been simple, if a trifle ungainly.\n Everyone who owned stock in Robling Titanium was automatically\n a member of the board of directors, with Torkleson\n as chairman of the board. The stockholders numbered over\n ten thousand.\n\n\n They were all present. They were packed in from the wall\n to the stage, and hanging from the rafters. They overflowed\n into the corridors. They jammed the lobby. Ten thousand men\n rose with a howl of anger when Walter Towne walked out on\n the stage. But they quieted down again as Dan Torkleson\n started to speak.\n\n\n It was a masterful display of rabble-rousing. Torkleson\n paced the stage, his fat body shaking with agitation, pointing\n a chubby finger again and again at Walter Towne. He pranced\n and he ranted. He paused at just the right times for thunderous\n peals of applause.\n\n\n \"This morning in my office we offered to compromise with\n these jackals,\" he cried, \"and they rejected compromise. Even\n at the cost of lowering dividends, of taking food from the\n mouths of your wives and children, we made our generous\n offers. They were rejected with scorn. These thieves have one\n desire in mind, my friends, to starve you all, and to destroy\n your company and your jobs. To every appeal they heartlessly\n refused to divulge the key to the lock-in. And now this man—the\n ringleader who keeps the key word buried in secrecy—has\n the temerity to ask an audience with you. You're angry men;\n you want to know the man to blame for our hardship.\"\n\n\n He pointed to Towne with a flourish. \"I give you your man.\n Do what you want with him.\"\n\n\n The hall exploded in angry thunder. The first wave of men\n rushed onto the stage as Walter stood up. A tomato whizzed\n past his ear and splattered against the wall. More men clambered\n up on the stage, shouting and shaking their fists.\n\n\n Then somebody appeared with a rope.\n\n\n Walter gave a sharp nod to the side of the stage. Abruptly\n the roar of the men was drowned in another sound—a soul-rending,\n teeth-grating, bone-rattling screech. The men froze,\n jaws sagging, eyes wide, hardly believing their ears. In the\n instant of silence as the factory whistle died away, Walter\n grabbed the microphone. \"You want the code word to start\n the machines again? I'll give it to you before I sit down!\"\n\n\n The men stared at him, shuffling, a murmur rising. Torkleson\n burst to his feet. \"It's a trick!\" he howled. \"Wait 'til you\n hear their price.\"\n\n\n \"We have no price, and no demands,\" said Walter Towne.\n \"We will\ngive\nyou the code word, and we ask nothing in return\n but that you listen for sixty seconds.\" He glanced back at\n Torkleson, and then out to the crowd. \"You men here are an\n electing body—right? You own this great plant and company,\n top to bottom—right?\nYou should all be rich\n, because Robling\n could make you rich. But not one of you out there is rich.\n Only the fat ones on this stage are. But I'll tell you how\nyou\ncan be rich.\"\n\n\n They listened. Not a peep came from the huge hall. Suddenly,\n Walter Towne was talking their language.\n\n\n \"You think that since you own the company, times have\n changed. Well, have they? Are you any better off than you\n were? Of course not. Because you haven't learned yet that\n oppression by either side leads to misery for both. You haven't\n learned moderation. And you never will, until you throw out\n the ones who have fought moderation right down to the last\n ditch. You know whom I mean. You know who's grown richer\n and richer since the switchover. Throw him out, and you too\n can be rich.\" He paused for a deep breath. \"You want the code\n word to unlock the machines? All right, I'll give it to you.\"\n\n\n He swung around to point a long finger at the fat man\n sitting there. \"The code word is TORKLESON!\"\nMuch later, Walter Towne and Jeff Bates pried the trophies\n off the wall of the big office. The lawyer shook his head sadly.\n \"Pity about Dan Torkleson. Gruesome affair.\"\n\n\n Walter nodded as he struggled down with a moose head.\n \"Yes, a pity, but you know the boys when they get upset.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose so.\" The lawyer stopped to rest, panting. \"Anyway,\n with the newly elected board of directors, things will be\n different for everybody. You took a long gamble.\"\n\n\n \"Not so long. Not when you knew what they wanted to hear.\n It just took a little timing.\"\n\n\n \"Still, I didn't think they'd elect you secretary of the union.\n It just doesn't figure.\"\n\n\n Walter Towne chuckled. \"Doesn't it? I don't know. Everything's\n been a little screwy since the switchover. And in a\n screwy world like this—\" He shrugged, and tossed down the\n moose head. \"\nAnything\nfigures.\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is ironic about the story’s ending?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_1", "options": ["Torkleson becomes the production manager.", "Walter replaced Torkleson as the union leader. ", "Walter becomes rich. ", "Walter is demoted to a titanium worker. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship between Walter and Torkleson?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_2", "options": ["Walter is Torkleson’s boss at the factory. ", "Walter and Torkleson are co-workers.", "Torkleson is Walter’s boss at the factory. ", "Torkelson is Walter’s secretary. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0036", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship between Walter and Bailey?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_3", "options": ["Bailey is Walter’s secretary. ", "Walter is Bailey’s boss at work. ", "Bailey supervises Walter at work. ", "Walter and Bailey are workers in the factory. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is wrong with the reports?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_4", "options": ["Production and sales are down.", "Walter forgot to do them. ", "Walter put in false information to make it appear as though the company is thriving. ", "Walter did the reports the late. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is strange about how the titanium company operates?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_5", "options": ["The workers are richer than management. ", "The company is owned and operated by the government. ", "The company is owned by the union leader. ", "The company is owned by the workers and management has little control. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Walter in trouble?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_6", "options": ["He is production manager and sales are down. ", "He spends too much company time on Koffee-Kup. ", "He was late to work by 4 minutes. ", "He comes and goes as he pleases. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who earns the most money at the titanium plant?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_7", "options": ["The union secretary", "Research and Development ", "The shop steward", "The production manager"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are the workers \"cutting their own throats\"?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_8", "options": ["The workers agree to work for less money. ", "They decide to only make trash cans and become bored. ", "The workers own the stock of the company. They will lose money if the company doesn't make a profit. ", "They go on strike and jeopardize their jobs. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Walter change his situation?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_9", "options": ["He runs for public office. ", "He turns the workers against Torkleson. ", "He goes on strike to demand better pay and hours. ", "He quits his job in management. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How will Walter change the company?", "question_unique_id": "22867_IZGAWLCJ_10", "options": ["Walter will give management total control again. ", "Walter will bankrupt the company. ", "Walter will be just like Torkleson. ", "Walter will work with management and the workers to make the company profitable. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/6/22867//22867-h//22867-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22875", "set_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Circus", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "Science fiction; Authors -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nThe Counterfeit Man More Science Fiction\n Stories by Alan E. Nourse\npublished in 1963. Extensive research did\n not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was\n renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected\n without note.\nCircus\n\"Just\n suppose,\" said Morgan, \"that I\ndid\nbelieve you. Just\n for argument.\" He glanced up at the man across the restaurant\n table. \"Where would we go from here?\"\n\n\n The man shifted uneasily in his seat. He was silent, staring\n down at his plate. Not a strange-looking man, Morgan thought.\n Rather ordinary, in fact. A plain face, nose a little too long,\n fingers a little too dainty, a suit that doesn't quite seem to fit,\n but all in all, a perfectly ordinary looking man.\n\n\n Maybe\ntoo\nordinary, Morgan thought.\n\n\n Finally the man looked up. His eyes were dark, with a\n hunted look in their depths that chilled Morgan a little. \"Where\n do we go? I don't know. I've tried to think it out, and I get\n nowhere. But you've\ngot\nto believe me, Morgan. I'm lost,\n I mean it. If I can't get help, I don't know where it's going to\n end.\"\n\n\n \"I'll tell you where it's going to end,\" said Morgan. \"It's\n going to end in a hospital. A mental hospital. They'll lock you\n up and they'll lose the key somewhere.\" He poured himself\n another cup of coffee and sipped it, scalding hot. \"And that,\"\n he added, \"will be that.\"\nThe place was dark and almost empty. Overhead, a rotary\n fan swished patiently. The man across from Morgan ran a hand\n through his dark hair. \"There must be some other way,\" he\n said. \"There has to be.\"\n\n\n \"All right, let's start from the beginning again,\" Morgan\n said. \"Maybe we can pin something down a little better. You\n say your name is Parks—right?\"\n\n\n The man nodded. \"Jefferson Haldeman Parks, if that helps\n any. Haldeman was my mother's maiden name.\"\n\n\n \"All right. And you got into town on Friday—right?\"\n\n\n Parks nodded.\n\n\n \"Fine. Now go through the whole story again. What happened\n first?\"\n\n\n The man thought for a minute. \"As I said, first there was\n a fall. About twenty feet. I didn't break any bones, but I was\n shaken up and limping. The fall was near the highway going\n to the George Washington Bridge. I got over to the highway\n and tried to flag down a ride.\"\n\n\n \"How did you feel? I mean, was there anything strange that\n you noticed?\"\n\n\n \"\nStrange!\n\" Parks' eyes widened. \"I—I was speechless. At\n first I hadn't noticed too much—I was concerned with the fall,\n and whether I was hurt or not. I didn't really think about much\n else until I hobbled up to that highway and saw those cars\n coming. Then I could hardly believe my eyes. I thought I was\n crazy. But a car stopped and asked me if I was going into the\n city, and I knew I wasn't crazy.\"\n\n\n Morgan's mouth took a grim line. \"You understood the\n language?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes. I don't see how I could have, but I did. We talked\n all the way into New York—nothing very important, but we\n understood each other. His speech had an odd sound, but—\"\n\n\n Morgan nodded. \"I know, I noticed. What did you do when\n you got to New York?\"\n\n\n \"Well, obviously, I needed money. I had gold coin. There\n had been no way of knowing if it would be useful, but I'd\n taken it on chance. I tried to use it at a newsstand first, and the\n man wouldn't touch it. Asked me if I thought I was the U.S.\n Treasury or something. When he saw that I was serious, he\n sent me to a money lender, a hock shop, I think he called it.\n So I found a place—\"\n\n\n \"Let me see the coins.\"\n\n\n Parks dropped two small gold discs on the table. They were\n perfectly smooth and perfectly round, tapered by wear to a\n thin blunt edge. There was no design on them, and no printing.\n Morgan looked up at the man sharply. \"What did you get for\n these?\"\n\n\n Parks shrugged. \"Too little, I suspect. Two dollars for the\n small one, five for the larger.\"\n\n\n \"You should have gone to a bank.\"\n\n\n \"I know that now. I didn't then. Naturally, I assumed that\n with everything else so similar, principles of business would\n also be similar.\"\n\n\n Morgan sighed and leaned back in his chair. \"Well, then\n what?\"\n\n\n Parks poured some more coffee. His face was very pale,\n Morgan thought, and his hands trembled as he raised the cup\n to his lips. Fright? Maybe. Hard to tell. The man put down\n the cup and rubbed his forehead with the back of his hand.\n \"First, I went to the mayor's office,\" he said. \"I kept trying to\n think what anyone at home would do in my place. That seemed\n a good bet. I asked a policeman where it was, and then I went\n there.\"\n\n\n \"But you didn't get to see him.\"\n\n\n \"No. I saw a secretary. She said the mayor was in conference,\n and that I would have to have an appointment. She let\n me speak to another man, one of the mayor's assistants.\"\n\n\n \"And you told him?\"\n\n\n \"No. I wanted to see the mayor himself. I thought that was\n the best thing to do. I waited for a couple of hours, until\n another assistant came along and told me flatly that the mayor\n wouldn't see me unless I stated my business first.\" He drew in\n a deep breath. \"So I stated it. And then I was gently but firmly\n ushered back into the street again.\"\n\n\n \"They didn't believe you,\" said Morgan.\n\n\n \"Not for a minute. They laughed in my face.\"\n\n\n Morgan nodded. \"I'm beginning to get the pattern. So what\n did you do next?\"\n\n\n \"Next I tried the police. I got the same treatment there,\n only they weren't so gentle. They wouldn't listen either. They\n muttered something about cranks and their crazy notions, and\n when they asked me where I lived, they thought I was—what\n did they call it?—a wise guy! Told me to get out and not come\n back with any more wild stories.\"\n\n\n \"I see,\" said Morgan.\n\n\n Jefferson Parks finished his last bite of pie and pushed the\n plate away. \"By then I didn't know quite what to do. I'd been\n prepared for almost anything excepting this. It was frightening.\n I tried to rationalize it, and then I quit trying. It wasn't\n that I attracted attention, or anything like that, quite the contrary.\n Nobody even looked at me, unless I said something to\n them. I began to look for things that were\ndifferent\n, things that\n I could show them, and say, see, this proves that I'm telling\n the truth, look at it—\" He looked up helplessly.\n\n\n \"And what did you find?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing. Oh, little things, insignificant little things. Your\n calendars, for instance. Naturally, I couldn't understand your\n frame of reference. And the coinage, you stamp your coins; we\n don't. And cigarettes. We don't have any such thing as tobacco.\"\n The man gave a short laugh. \"And your house dogs!\n We have little animals that look more like rabbits than poodles.\n But there was nothing any more significant than that. Absolutely\n nothing.\"\n\n\n \"Except yourself,\" Morgan said.\n\n\n \"Ah, yes. I thought that over carefully. I looked for differences,\n obvious ones. I couldn't find any. You can see that, just\n looking at me. So I searched for more subtle things. Skin texture,\n fingerprints, bone structure, body proportion. I still\n couldn't find anything. Then I went to a doctor.\"\n\n\n Morgan's eyebrows lifted. \"Good,\" he said.\n\n\n Parks shrugged tiredly. \"Not really. He examined me. He\n practically took me apart. I carefully refrained from saying\n anything about who I was or where I came from; just said\n I wanted a complete physical examination, and let him go\n to it. He was thorough, and when he finished he patted me\n on the back and said, 'Parks, you've got nothing to worry\n about. You're as fine, strapping a specimen of a healthy human\n being as I've ever seen.' And that was that.\" Parks laughed\n bitterly. \"I guess I was supposed to be happy with the verdict,\n and instead I was ready to knock him down. It was idiotic, it\n defied reason, it was infuriating.\"\n\n\n Morgan nodded sourly. \"Because you're not a human\n being,\" he said.\n\n\n \"That's right. I'm not a human being at all.\"\n\"How did you happen to pick this planet, or this sun?\"\n Morgan asked curiously. \"There must have been a million\n others to choose from.\"\n\n\n Parks unbuttoned his collar and rubbed his stubbled chin\n unhappily. \"I didn't make the choice. Neither did anyone else.\n Travel by warp is a little different from travel by the rocket\n you fiction writers make so much of. With a rocket vehicle you\n pick your destination, make your calculations, and off you go.\n The warp is blind flying, strictly blind. We send an unmanned\n scanner ahead. It probes around more or less hit-or-miss until\n it locates something, somewhere, that looks habitable. When\n it spots a likely looking place, we keep a tight beam on it\n and send through a manned scout.\" He grinned sourly. \"Like\n me. If it looks good to the scout, he signals back, and they\n leave the warp anchored for a sort of permanent gateway until\n we can get a transport beam built. But we can't control the\n directional and dimensional scope of the warp. There are an\n infinity of ways it can go, until we have a guide beam transmitting\n from the other side. Then we can just scan a segment of\n space with the warp, and the scanner picks up the beam.\"\n\n\n He shook his head wearily. \"We're new at it, Morgan. We've\n only tried a few dozen runs. We're not too far ahead of you in\n technology. We've been using rocket vehicles just like yours for\n over a century. That's fine for a solar system, but it's not much\n good for the stars. When the warp principle was discovered, it\n looked like the answer. But something went wrong, the scanner\n picked up this planet, and I was coming through, and then\n something blew. Next thing I knew I was falling. When I tried\n to make contact again, the scanner was gone!\"\n\n\n \"And you found things here the same as back home,\" said\n Morgan.\n\n\n \"The same! Your planet and mine are practically twins.\n Similar cities, similar technology, everything. The people are\n the same, with precisely the same anatomy and physiology, the\n same sort of laws, the same institutions, even compatible languages.\n Can't you see the importance of it? This planet is on\n the other side of the universe from mine, with the first intelligent\n life we've yet encountered anywhere. But when I try to\n tell your people that I'm a native of another star system,\nthey\n won't believe me\n!\"\n\n\n \"Why should they?\" asked Morgan. \"You look like a human\n being. You talk like one. You eat like one. You act like one.\n What you're asking them to believe is utterly incredible.\"\n\n\n \"\nBut it's true.\n\"\n\n\n Morgan shrugged. \"So it's true. I won't argue with you. But\n as I asked before, even if I\ndid\nbelieve you, what do you\n expect\nme\nto do about it? Why pick\nme\n, of all the people you've\n seen?\"\n\n\n There was a desperate light in Parks' eyes. \"I was tired, tired\n of being laughed at, tired of having people looking at me as\n though I'd lost my wits when I tried to tell them the truth.\n You were here, you were alone, so I started talking. And then\n I found out you wrote stories.\" He looked up eagerly. \"I've\n got to get back, Morgan, somehow. My life is there, my family.\n And think what it would mean to both of our worlds—contact\n with another intelligent race! Combine our knowledges,\n our technologies, and we could explore the galaxy!\"\n\n\n He leaned forward, his thin face intense. \"I need money and\n I need help. I know some of the mathematics of the warp principle,\n know some of the design, some of the power and wiring\n principles. You have engineers here, technologists, physicists.\n They could fill in what I don't know and build a guide beam.\n But they won't do it if they don't believe me. Your government\n won't listen to me, they won't appropriate any money.\"\n\n\n \"Of course they won't. They've got a war or two on their\n hands, they have public welfare, and atomic bombs, and\n rockets to the moon to sink their money into.\" Morgan stared\n at the man. \"But what can\nI\ndo?\"\n\n\n \"You can\nwrite\n! That's what you can do. You can tell the\n world about me, you can tell exactly what has happened. I\n know how public interest can be aroused in my world. It must\n be the same in yours.\"\n\n\n Morgan didn't move. He just stared. \"How many people\n have you talked to?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"A dozen, a hundred, maybe a thousand.\"\n\n\n \"And how many believed you?\"\n\n\n \"None.\"\n\n\n \"You mean\nnobody\nwould believe you?\"\n\n\n \"\nNot one soul.\nUntil I talked to you.\"\n\n\n And then Morgan was laughing, laughing bitterly, tears\n rolling down his cheeks. \"And I'm the one man who couldn't\n help you if my life depended on it,\" he gasped.\n\n\n \"You believe me?\"\n\n\n Morgan nodded sadly. \"I believe you. Yes. I think your\n warp brought you through to a parallel universe of your own\n planet, not to another star, but I think you're telling the truth.\"\n\n\n \"Then you\ncan\nhelp me.\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid not.\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"Because I'd be worse than no help at all.\"\n\n\n Jefferson Parks gripped the table, his knuckles white.\n \"Why?\" he cried hoarsely. \"If you believe me, why can't you\n help me?\"\n\n\n Morgan pointed to the magazine lying on the table. \"I write,\n yes,\" he said sadly. \"Ever read stories like this before?\"\n\n\n Parks picked up the magazine, glanced at the bright cover.\n \"I barely looked at it.\"\n\n\n \"You should look more closely. I have a story in this issue.\n The readers thought it was very interesting,\" Morgan grinned.\n \"Go ahead, look at it.\"\n\n\n The stranger from the stars leafed through the magazine,\n stopped at a page that carried Roger Morgan's name. His eyes\n caught the first paragraph and he turned white. He set the\n magazine down with a trembling hand. \"I see,\" he said, and\n the life was gone out of his voice. He spread the pages viciously,\n read the lines again.\n\n\n The paragraph said:\n\n\n \"Just suppose,\" said Martin, \"that I\ndid\nbelieve you. Just\n for argument.\" He glanced up at the man across the table.\n \"Where do we go from here?\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "Describe Parks’ situation.", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_1", "options": ["He is from another planet but does not have a way to get back home. ", "He is a writer but no one will buy his work. ", "He is lost and no one will help him get home.", "He is having a psychotic episode. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is it significant that Parks is so ordinary?", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_2", "options": ["He does not look like a stereotypical criminal, which makes him more credible. ", "He appears to be mentally stable, proving that anyone can have a mental illness. ", "He appears to be a regular human, which makes his story more unbelievable. ", "Writers often find ordinary things to be interesting. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0011", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Parks think Morgan can help him?", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_3", "options": ["He works for NASA and can construct a rocket ship for Parks. ", "He is a writer and can share Parks' story. ", "He is the mayor. ", "He is a doctor."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why would Morgan be “worse than no help at all”?", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_4", "options": ["He writes fiction, so people will think he made up Parks' story. ", "He is against space exploration. ", "He lost his credibility by writing a fact story. ", "He is also lost and homeless. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Morgan believe Parks?", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_5", "options": ["He noticed that there was something odd about him right away. ", "He met someone like Parks before. ", "He wrote a story that predicted Parks' predicament. ", "He doesn't believe him, but plays along to keep Parks calm. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is ironic about the story?", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_6", "options": ["Parks ends up helping Morgan. ", "The one and only person who believes Parks cannot help him. ", "Morgan is famous for preaching that there is no life on other planets. ", "Morgan is Parks' twin from a parallel universe. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What will likely happen to Parks if no one believes him?", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_7", "options": ["He will continue having hallucinations. ", "The government will use him for experiments. ", "He will be stuck on Earth in a mental hospital. ", "He will get arrested. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is setting?", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_8", "options": ["A restaurant in New York City. ", "A restaurant on a parallel planet to Earth. ", "A doctor's office in New York City. ", "A restaurant on Mars. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is a theme of the story?", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_9", "options": ["People who tell lies often will eventually get themselves into trouble. ", "The truth does not matter if no one believes it. ", "Space travel is dangerous. ", "There are aliens walking among us. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship between Parks and Morgan?", "question_unique_id": "22875_539MKDEK_10", "options": ["They are old friends. ", "Parks is a customer of Morgan. ", "They are strangers who just met. ", "They were born in the same city. "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/7/22875//22875-h//22875-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22876", "set_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1021", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Link", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "PS; Short stories; Extraterrestrial beings -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nThe Counterfeit Man More Science Fiction\n Stories by Alan E. Nourse\npublished in 1963. Extensive research did\n not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was\n renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected\n without note.\nThe\n\n Link\nIt\n was nearly sundown when Ravdin eased the ship down\n into the last slow arc toward the Earth's surface. Stretching\n his arms and legs, he tried to relax and ease the tension in\n his tired muscles. Carefully, he tightened the seat belt for\n landing; below him he could see the vast, tangled expanse of\n Jungle-land spreading out to the horizon. Miles ahead was the\n bright circle of the landing field and the sparkling glow of the\n city beyond. Ravdin peered to the north of the city, hoping to\n catch a glimpse of the concert before his ship was swallowed\n by the brilliant landing lights.\n\n\n A bell chimed softly in his ear. Ravdin forced his attention\n back to the landing operation. He was still numb and shaken\n from the Warp-passage, his mind still muddled by the abrupt\n and incredible change. Moments before, the sky had been a\n vast, starry blanket of black velvet; then, abruptly, he had\n been hovering over the city, sliding down toward warm\n friendly lights and music. He checked the proper switches, and\n felt the throbbing purr of the anti-grav motors as the ship slid\n in toward the landing slot. Tall spires of other ships rose to\n meet him, circle upon circle of silver needles pointing skyward.\n A little later they were blotted out as the ship was grappled\n into the berth from which it had risen days before.\n\n\n With a sigh, Ravdin eased himself out of the seat, his heart\n pounding with excitement. Perhaps, he thought, he was too\n excited, too eager to be home, for his mind was still reeling\n from the fearful discovery of his journey.\n\n\n The station was completely empty as Ravdin walked down\n the ramp to the shuttles. At the desk he checked in with the\n shiny punch-card robot, and walked swiftly across the polished\n floor. The wall panels pulsed a somber blue-green,\n broken sharply by brilliant flashes and overtones of scarlet,\n reflecting with subtle accuracy the tumult in his own mind.\n Not a sound was in the air, not a whisper nor sign of human\n habitation. Vaguely, uneasiness grew in his mind as he entered\n the shuttle station. Suddenly, the music caught him, a long,\n low chord of indescribable beauty, rising and falling in the\n wind, a distant whisper of life....\n\n\n The concert, of course. Everyone would be at the concert\n tonight, and even from two miles away, the beauty of\n four hundred perfectly harmonized voices was carried on\n the breeze. Ravdin's uneasiness disappeared; he was eager to\n discharge his horrible news, get it off his mind and join the\n others in the great amphitheater set deep in the hillside outside\n the city. But he knew instinctively that Lord Nehmon,\n anticipating his return, would not be at the concert.\n\n\n Riding the shuttle over the edges of Jungle-land toward the\n shining bright beauty of the city, Ravdin settled back, trying\n to clear his mind of the shock and horror he had encountered\n on his journey. The curves and spires of glowing plastic passed\n him, lighted with a million hues. He realized that his whole\n life was entangled in the very beauty of this wonderful city.\n Everything he had ever hoped or dreamed lay sheltered here\n in the ever-changing rhythm of colors and shapes and sounds.\n And now, he knew, he would soon see his beloved city burning\n once again, turning to flames and ashes in a heart-breaking\n memorial to the age-old fear of his people.\n\n\n The little shuttle-car settled down softly on the green terrace\n near the center of the city. The building was a masterpiece\n of smoothly curving walls and tasteful lines, opening a\n full side to the south to catch the soft sunlight and warm\n breezes. Ravdin strode across the deep carpeting of the terrace.\n There was other music here, different music, a wilder,\n more intimate fantasy of whirling sound. An oval door opened\n for him, and he stopped short, staggered for a moment by the\n overpowering beauty in the vaulted room.\n\n\n A girl with red hair the color of new flame was dancing\n with enthralling beauty and abandon, her body moving like\n ripples of wind to the music which filled the room with its\n throbbing cry. Her beauty was exquisite, every motion, every\n flowing turn a symphony of flawless perfection as she danced\n to the wild music.\n\n\n \"Lord Nehmon!\"\n\n\n The dancer threw back her head sharply, eyes wide, her\n body frozen in mid-air, and then, abruptly, she was gone, leaving\n only the barest flickering image of her fiery hair. The\n music slowed, singing softly, and Ravdin could see the old\n man waiting in the room. Nehmon rose, his gaunt face and\n graying hair belying the youthful movement of his body. Smiling,\n he came forward, clapped Ravdin on the shoulder, and\n took his hand warmly. \"You're too late for the concert—it's\n a shame. Mischana is the master tonight, and the whole city\n is there.\"\n\n\n Ravdin's throat tightened as he tried to smile. \"I had to\n let you know,\" he said. \"\nThey're coming\n, Nehmon! I saw\n them, hours ago.\"\n\n\n The last overtones of the music broke abruptly, like a glass\n shattered on stone. The room was deathly still. Lord Nehmon\n searched the young man's face. Then he turned away, not quite\n concealing the sadness and pain in his eyes. \"You're certain?\n You couldn't be mistaken?\"\n\n\n \"No chance. I found signs of their passing in a dozen places.\n Then I saw\nthem\n, their whole fleet. There were hundreds.\n They're coming, I saw them.\"\n\n\n \"Did they see you?\" Nehmon's voice was sharp.\n\n\n \"No, no. The Warp is a wonderful thing. With it I could\n come and go in the twinkling of an eye. But I could see them\n in the twinkling of an eye.\"\n\n\n \"And it couldn't have been anyone else?\"\n\n\n \"Could anyone else build ships like the Hunters?\"\n\n\n Nehmon sighed wearily. \"No one that we know.\" He\n glanced up at the young man. \"Sit down, son, sit down. I—I'll\n just have to rearrange my thinking a little. Where were\n they? How far?\"\n\n\n \"Seven light years,\" Ravdin said. \"Can you imagine it?\n Just seven, and moving straight this way.\nThey know where\n we are\n, and they are coming quickly.\" His eyes filled with\n fear. \"They\ncouldn't\nhave found us so soon, unless they too\n have discovered the Warp and how to use it to travel.\"\n\n\n The older man's breath cut off sharply, and there was real\n alarm in his eyes. \"You're right,\" he said softly. \"Six months\n ago it was eight hundred light years away, in an area completely\n remote from us. Now just\nseven\n. In six months they\n have come so close.\"\n\n\n The scout looked up at Nehmon in desperation. \"But what\n can we do? We have only weeks, maybe days, before they're\n here. We have no time to plan, no time to prepare for them.\n What can we do?\"\n\n\n The room was silent. Finally the aged leader stood up,\n wearily, some fraction of his six hundred years of life showing\n in his face for the first time in centuries. \"We can do once\n again what we always have done before when the Hunters\n came,\" he said sadly. \"We can run away.\"\nThe bright street below the oval window was empty and\n quiet. Not a breath of air stirred in the city. Ravdin stared out\n in bitter silence. \"Yes, we can run away. Just as we always\n have before. After we have worked so hard, accomplished so\n much here, we must burn the city and flee again.\" His voice\n trailed off to silence. He stared at Nehmon, seeking in the old\n man's face some answer, some reassurance. But he found no\n answer there, only sadness. \"Think of the concerts. It's taken\n so long, but at last we've come so close to the ultimate goal.\"\n He gestured toward the thought-sensitive sounding boards lining\n the walls, the panels which had made the dancer-illusion\n possible. \"Think of the beauty and peace we've found here.\"\n\n\n \"I know. How well I know.\"\n\n\n \"Yet now the Hunters come again, and again we must run\n away.\" Ravdin stared at the old man, his eyes suddenly bright.\n \"Nehmon, when I saw those ships I began thinking.\"\n\n\n \"I've spent many years thinking, my son.\"\n\n\n \"Not what I've been thinking.\" Ravdin sat down, clasping\n his hands in excitement. \"The Hunters come and we run away,\n Nehmon. Think about that for a moment. We run, and we run,\n and we run. From what? We run from the Hunters. They're\n hunting\nus\n, these Hunters. They've never quite found us, because\n we've always already run. We're clever, we're fortunate,\n and we have a way of life that they do not, so whenever they\n have come close to finding us, we have run.\"\n\n\n Nehmon nodded slowly. \"For thousands of years.\"\n\n\n Ravdin's eyes were bright. \"Yes, we flee, we cringe, we hide\n under stones, we break up our lives and uproot our families,\n running like frightened animals in the shadows of night and\n secrecy.\" He gulped a breath, and his eyes sought Nehmon's\n angrily. \"\nWhy do we run, my lord?\n\"\n\n\n Nehmon's eyes widened. \"Because we have no choice,\" he\n said. \"We must run or be killed. You know that. You've seen\n the records, you've been taught.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes, I know what I've been taught. I've been taught\n that eons ago our remote ancestors fought the Hunters, and\n lost, and fled, and were pursued. But why do we keep running?\n Time after time we've been cornered, and we've turned and\n fled.\nWhy?\nEven animals know that when they're cornered\n they must turn and fight.\"\n\n\n \"We are not animals.\" Nehmon's voice cut the air like a\n whiplash.\n\n\n \"But we could fight.\"\n\n\n \"Animals fight. We do not. We fought once, like animals,\n and now we must run from the Hunters who continue to fight\n like animals. So be it. Let the Hunters fight.\"\n\n\n Ravdin shook his head. \"Do you mean that the Hunters are\n not men like us?\" he said. \"That's what you're saying, that\n they are animals. All right. We kill animals for our food, isn't\n that true? We kill the tiger-beasts in the Jungle to protect\n ourselves, why not kill the Hunters to protect ourselves?\"\n\n\n Nehmon sighed, and reached out a hand to the young man.\n \"I'm sorry,\" he said gently. \"It seems logical, but it's false\n logic. The Hunters are men just like you and me. Their lives\n are different, their culture is different, but they are men. And\n human life is sacred, to us, above all else. This is the fundamental\n basis of our very existence. Without it we would be\n Hunters, too. If we fight, we are dead even if we live. That's\n why we must run away now, and always. Because we know\n that we must not kill men.\"\nOn the street below, the night air was suddenly full of\n voices, chattering, intermingled with whispers of song and occasional\n brief harmonic flutterings. The footfalls were muted\n on the polished pavement as the people passed slowly, their\n voices carrying a hint of puzzled uneasiness.\n\n\n \"The concert's over!\" Ravdin walked to the window, feeling\n a chill pass through him. \"So soon, I wonder why?\" Eagerly\n he searched the faces passing in the street for Dana's face,\n sensing the lurking discord in the quiet talk of the crowd. Suddenly\n the sound-boards in the room tinkled a carillon of ruby\n tones in his ear, and she was in the room, rushing into his arms\n with a happy cry, pressing her soft cheek to his rough chin.\n \"You're back! Oh, I'm so glad, so very glad!\" She turned to\n the old man. \"Nehmon, what has happened? The concert was\n ruined tonight. There was something in the air, everybody felt\n it. For some reason the people seemed\nafraid\n.\"\n\n\n Ravdin turned away from his bride. \"Tell her,\" he said to\n the old man.\n\n\n Dana looked at them, her gray eyes widening in horror.\n \"The Hunters! They've found us?\"\n\n\n Ravdin nodded wordlessly.\n\n\n Her hands trembled as she sat down, and there were tears\n in her eyes. \"We came so close tonight, so very close. I\nfelt\nthe music before it was sung, do you realize that? I\nfelt\nthe\n fear around me, even though no one said a word. It wasn't\n vague or fuzzy, it was\nclear\n! The transference was perfect.\"\n She turned to face the old man. \"It's taken so long to come\n this far, Nehmon. So much work, so much training to reach a\n perfect communal concert. We've had only two hundred years\n here, only\ntwo hundred\n! I was just a little girl when we came,\n I can't even remember before that. Before we came here we\n were undisturbed for a thousand years, and before that, four\n thousand. But\ntwo hundred\n—we\ncan't\nleave now. Not when\n we've come so far.\"\n\n\n Ravdin nodded. \"That's the trouble. They come closer every\n time. This time they will catch us. Or the next time, or the\n next. And that will be the end of everything for us, unless we\n fight them.\" He paused, watching the last groups dispersing on\n the street below. \"If we only knew, for certain, what we were\n running from.\"\n\n\n There was a startled silence. The girl's breath came in a\n gasp and her eyes widened as his words sank home. \"Ravdin,\"\n she said softly, \"\nhave you ever seen a Hunter\n?\"\n\n\n Ravdin stared at her, and felt a chill of excitement. Music\n burst from the sounding-board, odd, wild music, suddenly\n hopeful. \"No,\" he said, \"no, of course not. You know that.\"\n\n\n The girl rose from her seat. \"Nor have I. Never, not once.\"\n She turned to Lord Nehmon. \"Have\nyou\n?\"\n\n\n \"Never.\" The old man's voice was harsh.\n\n\n \"Has\nanyone\never seen a Hunter?\"\n\n\n Ravdin's hand trembled. \"I—I don't know. None of us living\n now, no. It's been too long since they last actually found\n us. I've read—oh, I can't remember. I think my grandfather\n saw them, or my great-grandfather, somewhere back there.\n It's been thousands of years.\"\n\n\n \"Yet we've been tearing ourselves up by the roots, fleeing\n from planet to planet, running and dying and still running.\n But suppose we don't need to run anymore?\"\n\n\n He stared at her. \"They keep coming. They keep searching\n for us. What more proof do you need?\"\n\n\n Dana's face glowed with excitement, alive with new vitality,\n new hope. \"Ravdin, can't you see?\nThey might have changed.\nThey might not be the same. Things can happen. Look at us,\n how we've grown since the wars with the Hunters. Think how\n our philosophy and culture have matured! Oh, Ravdin, you\n were to be master at a concert next month. Think how the concerts\n have changed! Even my grandmother can remember\n when the concerts were just a few performers playing, and\n everyone else just sitting and\nlistening\n! Can you imagine anything\n more silly? They hadn't even thought of transference\n then, they never dreamed what a\nreal\nconcert could be! Why,\n those people had never begun to understand music until they\n themselves became a part of it. Even we can see these changes,\n why couldn't the Hunters have grown and changed just as\n we have?\"\n\n\n Nehmon's voice broke in, almost harshly, as he faced the\n excited pair. \"The Hunters don't have concerts,\" he said\n grimly. \"You're deluding yourself, Dana. They laugh at our\n music, they scoff at our arts and twist them into obscene\n mockeries. They have no concept of beauty in their language.\n The Hunters are incapable of change.\"\n\n\n \"And you can be certain of that when\nnobody has seen\n them for thousands of years\n?\"\n\n\n Nehmon met her steady eyes, read the strength and determination\n there. He knew, despairingly, what she was thinking—that\n he was old, that he couldn't understand, that his\n mind was channeled now beyond the approach of wisdom.\n \"You mustn't think what you're thinking,\" he said weakly.\n \"You'd be blind. You wouldn't know, you couldn't have any\n idea what you would find. If you tried to contact them, you\n could be lost completely, tortured, killed. If they haven't\n changed, you wouldn't stand a chance. You'd never come\n back, Dana.\"\n\n\n \"But she's right all the same,\" Ravdin said softly. \"You're\n wrong, my lord. We can't continue this way if we're to survive.\n Sometime our people must contact them, find the link that\n was once between us, and forge it strong again. We could do\n it, Dana and I.\"\n\n\n \"I could forbid you to go.\"\n\n\n Dana looked at her husband, and her eyes were proud.\n \"You could forbid us,\" she said, facing the old man. \"But\n you could never stop us.\"\nAt the edge of the Jungle-land a great beast stood with\n green-gleaming eyes, licking his fanged jaws as he watched the\n glowing city, sensing somehow that the mystifying circle of\n light and motion was soon to become his Jungle-land again.\n In the city the turmoil bubbled over, as wave after wave of\n the people made the short safari across the intervening jungle\n to the circles of their ships. Husbands, wives, fathers, mothers—all\n carried their small, frail remembrances out to the ships.\n There was music among them still, but it was a different sort\n of music, now, an eerie, hopeless music that drifted out of the\n city in the wind. It caused all but the bravest of the beasts,\n their hair prickling on their backs, to run in panic through\n the jungle darkness. It was a melancholy music, carried from\n thought to thought, from voice to voice as the people of the\n city wearily prepared themselves once again for the long\n journey.\n\n\n To run away. In the darkness of secrecy, to be gone, without\n a trace, without symbol or vestige of their presence, leaving\n only the scorched circle of land for the jungle to reclaim,\n so that no eyes, not even the sharpest, would ever know how\n long they had stayed, nor where they might have gone.\n\n\n In the rounded room of his house, Lord Nehmon dispatched\n the last of his belongings, a few remembrances, nothing more,\n because the space on the ships must take people, not remembrances,\n and he knew that the remembrances would bring only\n pain. All day Nehmon had supervised the loading, the intricate\n preparation, following plans laid down millennia before.\n He saw the libraries and records transported, mile upon endless\n mile of microfilm, carted to the ships prepared to carry\n them, stored until a new resting place was found. The history\n of a people was recorded on that film, a people once proud and\n strong, now equally proud, but dwindling in numbers as toll\n for the constant roving. A proud people, yet a people who\n would turn and run without thought, in a panic of age-old\n fear. They\nhad\nto run, Nehmon knew, if they were to survive.\n\n\n And with a blaze of anger in his heart, he almost hated the\n two young people waiting here with him for the last ship to be\n filled. For these two would not go.\n\n\n It had been a long and painful night. He had pleaded and\n begged, tried to persuade them that there was no hope, that\n the very idea of remaining behind or trying to contact the\n Hunters was insane. Yet he knew\nthey\nwere sane, perhaps unwise,\n naive, but their decision had been reached, and they\n would not be shaken.\n\n\n The day was almost gone as the last ships began to fill.\n Nehmon turned to Ravdin and Dana, his face lined and tired.\n \"You'll have to go soon,\" he said. \"The city will be burned,\n of course, as always. You'll be left with food, and with weapons\n against the jungle. The Hunters will know that we've been\n here, but they'll not know when, nor where we have gone.\"\n He paused. \"It will be up to you to see that they don't learn.\"\n\n\n Dana shook her head. \"We'll tell them nothing, unless it's\n safe for them to know.\"\n\n\n \"They'll question you, even torture you.\"\n\n\n She smiled calmly. \"Perhaps they won't. But as a last resort,\n we can blank out.\"\n\n\n Nehmon's face went white. \"You know there is no coming\n back, once you do that. You would never regain your memory.\n You must save it for a last resort.\"\n\n\n Down below on the street the last groups of people were\n passing; the last sweet, eerie tones of the concert were rising\n in the gathering twilight. Soon the last families would have\n taken their refuge in the ships, waiting for Nehmon to trigger\n the fire bombs to ignite the beautiful city after the ships\n started on their voyage. The concerts were over; there would\n be long years of aimless wandering before another home could\n be found, another planet safe from the Hunters and their ships.\n Even then it would be more years before the concerts could\n again rise from their hearts and throats and minds, generations\n before they could begin work again toward the climactic expression\n of their heritage.\n\n\n Ravdin felt the desolation in the people's minds, saw the\n utter hopelessness in the old man's face, and suddenly felt the\n pressure of despair. It was such a slender hope, so frail and\n so dangerous. He knew of the terrible fight, the war of his\n people against the Hunters, so many thousand years before.\n They had risen together, a common people, their home a single\n planet. And then, the gradual splitting of the nations, his own\n people living in peace, seeking the growth and beauty of the\n arts, despising the bitterness and barrenness of hatred and killing—and\n the Hunters, under an iron heel of militarism, of\n government for the perpetuation of government, split farther\n and farther from them. It was an ever-widening split as the\n Hunters sneered and ridiculed, and then grew to hate Ravdin's\n people for all the things the Hunters were losing: peace, love,\n happiness. Ravdin knew of his people's slowly dawning awareness\n of the sanctity of life, shattered abruptly by the horrible\n wars, and then the centuries of fear and flight, hiding from the\n wrath of the Hunters' vengeance. His people had learned much\n in those long years. They had conquered disease. They had\n grown in strength as they dwindled in numbers. But now the\n end could be seen, crystal clear, the end of his people and a\n ghastly grave.\n\n\n Nehmon's voice broke the silence. \"If you must stay behind,\n then go now. The city will burn an hour after the\n count-down.\"\n\n\n \"We will be safe, outside the city.\" Dana gripped her husband's\n hand, trying to transmit to him some part of her\n strength and confidence. \"Wish us the best, Nehmon. If a link\n can be forged, we will forge it.\"\n\n\n \"I wish you the best in everything.\" There were tears in the\n old man's eyes as he turned and left the room.\nThey stood in the Jungle-land, listening to the scurry of\n frightened animals, and shivering in the cool night air as the\n bright sparks of the ships' exhausts faded into the black starry\n sky. A man and a woman alone, speechless, watching, staring\n with awful longing into the skies as the bright rocket jets\n dwindled to specks and flickered out.\n\n\n The city burned. Purple spumes of flame shot high into the\n air, throwing a ghastly light on the frightened Jungle-land.\n Spires of flame seemed to be seeking the stars with their fingers\n as the plastic walls and streets of the city hissed and shriveled,\n blackening, bubbling into a vanishing memory before\n their eyes. The flames shot high, carrying with them the last\n remnants of the city which had stood proud and tall an hour\n before. Then a silence fell, deathly, like the lifeless silence of\n a grave. Out of the silence, little whispering sounds of the\n Jungle-land crept to their ears, first frightened, then curious,\n then bolder and bolder as the wisps of grass and little animals\n ventured out and out toward the clearing where the city had\n stood. Bit by bit the Jungle-land gathered courage, and the\n clearing slowly, silently, began to disappear.\n\n\n Days later new sparks of light appeared in the black sky.\n They grew to larger specks, then to flares, and finally settled\n to the earth as powerful, flaming jets.\n\n\n They were squat, misshapen vessels, circling down like vultures,\n hissing, screeching, landing with a grinding crash in the\n tall thicket near the place where the city had stood. Ravdin's\n signal had guided them in, and the Hunters had seen them,\n standing on a hilltop above the demolished amphitheater.\n Men had come out of the ships, large men with cold faces and\n dull eyes, weapons strapped to their trim uniforms. The Hunters\n had blinked at them, unbelieving, with their weapons held\n at ready. Ravdin and Dana were seized and led to the\n flagship.\n\n\n As they approached it, their hearts sank and they clasped\n hands to bolster their failing hope.\n\n\n The leader of the Hunters looked up from his desk as they\n were thrust into his cabin. Frankle's face was a graven mask\n as he searched their faces dispassionately. The captives were\n pale and seemed to cringe from the pale interrogation light.\n \"Chickens!\" the Hunter snorted. \"We have been hunting down\n chickens.\" His eyes turned to one of the guards. \"They have\n been searched?\"\n\n\n \"Of course, master.\"\n\n\n \"And questioned?\"\n\n\n The guard frowned. \"Yes, sir. But their language is almost\n unintelligible.\"\n\n\n \"You've studied the basic tongues, haven't you?\" Frankle's\n voice was as cold as his eyes.\n\n\n \"Of course, sir, but this is so different.\"\n\n\n Frankle stared in contempt at the fair-skinned captives, fixing\n his eyes on them for a long moment. Finally he said,\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n Ravdin glanced briefly at Dana's white face. His voice\n seemed weak and high-pitched in comparison to the Hunter's\n baritone. \"You are the leader of the Hunters?\"\n\n\n Frankle regarded him sourly, without replying. His thin\n face was swarthy, his short-cut gray hair matching the cold\n gray of his eyes. It was an odd face, completely blank of any\n thought or emotion, yet capable of shifting to a strange biting\n slyness in the briefest instant. It was a rich face, a face of\n inscrutable depth. He pushed his chair back, his eyes watchful.\n \"We know your people were here,\" he said suddenly. \"Now\n they've gone, and yet you remain behind. There must be a\n reason for such rashness. Are you sick? Crippled?\"\n\n\n Ravdin shook his head. \"We are not sick.\"\n\n\n \"Then criminals, perhaps? Being punished for rebellious\n plots?\"\n\n\n \"We are not criminals.\"\n\n\n The Hunter's fist crashed on the desk. \"Then why are you\n here?\nWhy?\nAre you going to tell me now, or do you propose\n to waste a few hours of my time first?\"\n\n\n \"There is no mystery,\" Ravdin said softly. \"We stayed behind\n to plead for peace.\"\n\n\n \"For peace?\" Frankle stared in disbelief. Then he shrugged,\n his face tired. \"I might have known. Peace! Where have your\n people gone?\"\n\n\n Ravdin met him eye for eye. \"I can't say.\"\n\n\n The Hunter laughed. \"Let's be precise, you don't\nchoose\nto\n say, just now. But perhaps very soon you will wish with all\n your heart to tell me.\"\n\n\n Dana's voice was sharp. \"We're telling you the truth. We\n want peace, nothing more. This constant hunting and running\n is senseless, exhausting to both of us. We want to make peace\n with you, to bring our people together again.\"\n\n\n Frankle snorted. \"You came to us in war, once, long ago.\n Now you want peace. What would you do, clasp us to your\n bosom, smother us in your idiotic music? Or have you gone on\n to greater things?\"\n\n\n Ravdin's face flushed hotly. \"Much greater things,\" he\n snapped.\n\n\n Frankle sat down slowly. \"No doubt,\" he said. \"Now understand\n me clearly. Very soon you will be killed. How quickly\n or slowly you die will depend largely upon the civility of your\n tongues. A civil tongue answers questions with the right answers.\n That is my definition of a civil tongue.\" He sat back\n coldly. \"Now, shall we commence asking questions?\"\n\n\n Dana stepped forward suddenly, her cheeks flushed. \"We\n don't have the words to express ourselves,\" she said softly.\n \"We can't tell you in words what we have to say, but music\n is a language even you can understand. We can tell you what\n we want in music.\"\n\n\n Frankle scowled. He knew about the magic of this music,\n he had heard of the witchcraft these weak chicken-people\n could weave, of their strange, magic power to steal strong\n men's minds from them and make them like children before\n wolves. But he had never heard this music with his own ears.\n He looked at them, his eyes strangely bright. \"You know I\n cannot listen to your music. It is forbidden, even you should\n know that. How dare you propose—\"\n\n\n \"But this is different music.\" Dana's eyes widened, and she\n threw an excited glance at her husband. \"Our music is beautiful,\n wonderful to hear. If you could only hear it—\"\n\n\n \"Never.\" The man hesitated. \"Your music is forbidden,\n poisonous.\"\n\n\n Her smile was like sweet wine, a smile that worked into the\n Hunter's mind like a gentle, lazy drug. \"But who is to permit\n or forbid? After all, you are the leader here, and forbidden\n pleasures are all the sweeter.\"\n\n\n Frankle's eyes were on hers, fascinated. Slowly, with a\n graceful movement, she drew the gleaming thought-sensitive\n stone from her clothing. It glowed in the room with a pearly\n luminescence, and she saw the man's eyes turning to it, drawn\n as if by magic. Then he looked away, and a cruel smile curled\n his lips. He motioned toward the stone. \"All right,\" he said\n mockingly. \"Do your worst. Show me your precious music.\"\n\n\n Like a tinkle of glass breaking in a well, the stone flashed\n its fiery light in the room. Little swirls of music seemed to swell\n from it, blossoming in the silence. Frankle tensed, a chill running\n up his spine, his eyes drawn back to the gleaming jewel.\n Suddenly, the music filled the room, rising sweetly like an\n overpowering wave, filling his mind with strange and wonderful\n images. The stone shimmered and changed, taking the\n form of dancing clouds of light, swirling with the music as it\n rose. Frankle felt his mind groping toward the music, trying\n desperately to reach into the heart of it, to become part of it.\n\n\n Ravdin and Dana stood there, trancelike, staring transfixed\n at the gleaming center of light, forcing their joined minds to\n create the crashing, majestic chords as the song lifted from the\n depths of oblivion to the heights of glory in the old, old song\n of their people.\n\n\n A song of majesty, and strength, and dignity. A song of\n love, of aspiration, a song of achievement. A song of peoples\n driven by ancient fears across the eons of space, seeking only\n peace, even peace with those who drove them.\n\n\n Frankle heard the music, and could not comprehend, for\n his mind could not grasp the meaning, the true overtones of\n those glorious chords, but he felt the strangeness in the pangs\n of fear which groped through his mind, cringing from the wonderful\n strains, dazzled by the dancing light. He stared wide-eyed\n and trembling at the couple across the room, and for an\n instant it seemed that he was stripped naked. For a fleeting moment\n the authority was gone from his face; gone too was the\n cruelty, the avarice, the sardonic mockery. For the briefest moment\n his cold gray eyes grew incredibly tender with a sudden\n ancient, long-forgotten longing, crying at last to be heard.\n\n\n And then, with a scream of rage he was stumbling into the\n midst of the light, lashing out wildly at the heart of its shimmering\n brilliance. His huge hand caught the hypnotic stone\n and swept it into crashing, ear-splitting cacophony against the\n cold steel bulkhead. He stood rigid, his whole body shaking,\n eyes blazing with fear and anger and hatred as he turned on\n Ravdin and Dana. His voice was a raging storm of bitterness\n drowning out the dying strains of the music.\n\n\n \"Spies! You thought you could steal my mind away, make\n me forget my duty and listen to your rotten, poisonous noise!\n Well, you failed, do you hear? I didn't hear it, I didn't listen,\nI didn't\n! I'll hunt you down as my fathers hunted you down,\n I'll bring my people their vengeance and glory, and your foul\n music will be dead!\"\n\n\n He turned to the guards, wildly, his hands still trembling.\n \"Take them out! Whip them, burn them, do anything! But\n find out where their people have gone. Find out! Music! We'll\n take the music out of them, once and for all.\"\nThe inquisition had been horrible. Their minds had had no\n concept of such horror, such relentless, racking pain. The\n blazing lights, the questions screaming in their ears, Frankle's\n vicious eyes burning in frustration, and their own screams,\n rising with each question they would not answer until their\n throats were scorched and they could no longer scream. Finally\n they reached the limit they could endure, and muttered\n together the hoarse words that could deliver them. Not words\n that Frankle could hear, but words to bring deliverance, to\n blank out their minds like a wet sponge over slate. The hypnotic\n key clicked into the lock of their minds; their screams\n died in their brains. Frankle stared at them, and knew instantly\n what they had done, a technique of memory obliteration\n known and dreaded for so many thousands of years that\n history could not remember. As his captives stood mindless\n before him, he let out one hoarse, agonized scream of frustration\n and defeat.\n\n\n But strangely enough he did not kill them. He left them\n on a cold stone ledge, blinking dumbly at each other as the\n ships of his fleet rose one by one and vanished like fireflies in\n the dark night sky. Naked, they sat alone on the planet of the\n Jungle-land. They knew no words, no music, nothing. And they\n did not even know that in the departing ships a seed had been\n planted. For Frankle\nhad\nheard the music. He had grasped the\n beauty of his enemies for that brief instant, and in that instant\n they had become less his enemies. A tiny seed of doubt had\n been planted. The seed would grow.\n\n\n The two sat dumbly, shivering. Far in the distance, a beast\n roared against the heavy night, and a light rain began to fall.\n They sat naked, the rain soaking their skin and hair. Then one\n of them grunted, and moved into the dry darkness of the cave.\n Deep within him some instinct spoke, warning him to fear\n the roar of the animal.\n\n\n Blinking dully, the woman crept into the cave after him.\n Three thoughts alone filled their empty minds. Not thoughts of\n Nehmon and his people; to them, Nehmon had never existed,\n forgotten as completely as if he had never been. No thoughts\n of the Hunters, either, nor of their unheard-of mercy in leaving\n them their lives—lives of memoryless oblivion, like animals\n in this green Jungle-land, but lives nonetheless.\n\n\n Only three thoughts filled their minds:\n\n\n It was raining.\n\n\n They were hungry.\n\n\n The Saber-tooth was prowling tonight.\n\n\n They never knew that the link had been forged.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is Ravdin’s job?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_1", "options": ["He scouts space for the Hunters. ", "He is a warrior. ", "He is a spy. ", "He is a musician."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which word does NOT describe Lord Nehmon’s leadership?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_2", "options": ["Passive", "Resilient", "Gentle", "Ineffective "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the relationship between Ravdin and Dana?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_3", "options": ["They are married.", "Dana is Ravdin’s supervisor. ", "They are brother and sister.", "They are both watchmen. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0043", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why do they need to burn the city?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_4", "options": ["They need to destroy evidence of their civilization to throw the Hunters off their trail.  ", "The Hunters will destroy the city anyway. ", "They don’t want to share their resources with others. ", "They don’t want the Hunters to steal their secrets. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0043", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which word describes Frankle’s leadership?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_5", "options": ["Ineffective", "Militaristic ", "Democratic ", "Passive "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Predict: was Ravdin and Dana’s plan successful?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_6", "options": ["No, because the Hunters will never change their hostile ways. ", "Yes, because Frankle decided to declare peace. ", "No, because they were left in the jungle, separated from the rest of their people. ", "Yes, because they planted the seed in Frankle’s mind to change their hostile ways. "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is “the link”?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_7", "options": ["Ravdin planted a microchip on Frankle so that his people will know where the Hunters are. ", "The magical music connects people by bringing out their humanity. ", "The peace offering from the Hunters. ", "The magic that Ravdin and Dana use to blank out their minds. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a theme in the story?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_8", "options": ["Good will always triumph over evil. ", "Art has the power to change hearts. ", "Hatred is stronger than benevolence. ", "It is better to flee than to fight. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why do Dana and Ravdin stay behind?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_9", "options": ["They want to populate the Jungle-land to ensure the survival of their race. ", "They want to resolve the conflict with the Hunters to stop the endless cycle of fleeing.", "They will shoot down the Hunter's ship to stop their attack. ", "They will spy on the Hunters to find out where they are going next. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Nehmon wants to flee, but Ravdin and Dana argue with him. What is Dana's argument?", "question_unique_id": "22876_RFMXOBNA_10", "options": ["She believes the Hunters may have changed and that peace is possible. ", "She wants to fight the Hunters and kill them. ", "She wants to surrender to the Hunters. ", "She wants to burn the Hunters' space ship. "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/8/7/22876//22876-h//22876-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22073", "set_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Repairman", "year": 1968, "author": "Harrison, Harry", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; PS; Human-alien encounters -- Fiction", "article": "The Repairman\nBy Harry Harrison\nIllustrated by Kramer\nBeing an interstellar trouble shooter wouldn’t be so bad …\n if I could shoot the trouble!\n\n\n The\n Old Man had that look of intense glee on his face that meant someone\n was in for a very rough time. Since we were alone, it took no great feat\n of intelligence to figure it would be me. I talked first, bold attack\n being the best defense and so forth.\n\n\n “I quit. Don’t bother telling me what dirty job you have\n cooked up, because I have already quit and you do not want to reveal\n company secrets to me.”\n\n\n The grin was even wider now and he actually chortled as he thumbed a\n button on his console. A thick legal document slid out of the delivery\n slot onto his desk.\n\n\n “This is your contract,” he said. “It tells how and\n when you will work. A steel-and-vanadium-bound contract that you\n couldn’t crack with a molecular disruptor.”\n\n\n I leaned out quickly, grabbed it and threw it into the air with a single\n motion. Before it could fall, I had my Solar out and, with a wide-angle\n shot, burned the contract to ashes.\n\n\n The Old Man pressed the button again and another contract slid out on\n his desk. If possible, the smile was still wider now.\n\n\n “I should have said a\n duplicate\n of your contract—like this\n one here.” He made a quick note on his secretary plate. “I\n have deducted 13 credits from your salary for the cost of the\n duplicate—as well as a 100-credit fine for firing a Solar inside a\n building.”\n\n\n I slumped, defeated, waiting for the blow to land. The Old Man fondled\n my contract.\n\n\n “According to this document, you can’t quit. Ever. Therefore\n I have a little job I know you’ll enjoy. Repair job. The Centauri\n beacon has shut down. It’s a Mark III beacon.…”\n\n\n “\n What\n kind of beacon?” I asked him. I have repaired\n hyperspace beacons from one arm of the Galaxy to the other and was sure\n I had worked on every type or model made. But I had never heard of this\n kind.\n\n\n “Mark III,” the Old Man repeated, practically chortling.\n “I never heard of it either until Records dug up the specs. They\n found them buried in the back of their oldest warehouse. This was the\n earliest type of beacon ever built—by Earth, no less. Considering\n its location on one of the Proxima Centauri planets, it might very well\n be the first beacon.”\nI looked\n at the blueprints he handed me and felt my eyes glaze with\n horror. “It’s a monstrosity! It looks more like a distillery\n than a beacon—must be at least a few hundred meters high.\n I’m a repairman, not an archeologist. This pile of junk is over\n 2000 years old. Just forget about it and build a new one.”\n\n\n The Old Man leaned over his desk, breathing into my face. “It\n would take a year to install a new beacon—besides being too\n expensive—and this relic is on one of the main routes. We have\n ships making fifteen-light-year detours now.”\n\n\n He leaned back, wiped his hands on his handkerchief and gave me Lecture\n Forty-four on Company Duty and My Troubles.\n\n\n “This department is officially called Maintenance and Repair, when\n it really should be called trouble-shooting. Hyperspace beacons are made\n to last forever—or damn close to it. When one of them breaks down,\n it is\n never\n an accident, and repairing the thing is never a matter of\n just plugging in a new part.”\n\n\n He was telling\n me\n —the guy who did the job while he sat back on his\n fat paycheck in an air-conditioned office.\n\n\n He rambled on. “How I wish that were all it took! I would have a\n fleet of parts ships and junior mechanics to install them. But its not\n like that at all. I have a fleet of expensive ships that are equipped to\n do almost anything—manned by a bunch of irresponsibles like\n you\n .”\n\n\n I nodded moodily at his pointing finger.\n\n\n “How I wish I could fire you all! Combination space-jockeys,\n mechanics, engineers, soldiers, con-men and anything else it takes to do\n the repairs. I have to browbeat, bribe, blackmail and bulldoze you thugs\n into doing a simple job. If you think you’re fed up, just think\n how I feel. But the ships must go through! The beacons must\n operate!”\n\n\n I recognized this deathless line as the curtain speech and crawled to my\n feet. He threw the Mark III file at me and went back to scratching in\n his papers. Just as I reached the door, he looked up and impaled me on\n his finger again.\n\n\n “And don’t get any fancy ideas about jumping your contract.\n We can attach that bank account of yours on Algol II long before you\n could draw the money out.”\n\n\n I smiled, a little weakly, I’m afraid, as if I had never meant to\n keep that account a secret. His spies were getting more efficient every\n day. Walking down the hall, I tried to figure a way to transfer the\n money without his catching on—and knew at the same time he was\n figuring a way to outfigure me.\n\n\n It was all very depressing, so I stopped for a drink, then went on to\n the spaceport.\nBy\n the time the ship was serviced, I had a course charted. The nearest\n beacon to the broken-down Proxima Centauri Beacon was on one of the\n planets of Beta Circinus and I headed there first, a short trip of only\n about nine days in hyperspace.\n\n\n To understand the importance of the beacons, you have to understand\n hyperspace. Not that many people do, but it is easy enough to understand\n that in this\n non\n -space the regular rules don’t apply. Speed and\n measurements are a matter of relationship, not constant facts like the\n fixed universe.\n\n\n The first ships to enter hyperspace had no place to go—and no way\n to even tell if they had moved. The beacons solved that problem and\n opened the entire universe. They are built on planets and generate\n tremendous amounts of power. This power is turned into radiation that is\n punched through into hyperspace. Every beacon has a code signal as part\n of its radiation and represents a measurable point in hyperspace.\n Triangulation and quadrature of the beacons works for\n navigation—only it follows its own rules. The rules are complex\n and variable, but they are still rules that a navigator can follow.\n\n\n For a hyperspace jump, you need at least four beacons for an accurate\n fix. For long jumps, navigators use as many as seven or eight. So every\n beacon is important and every one has to keep operating. That is where I\n and the other trouble-shooters came in.\n\n\n We travel in well-stocked ships that carry a little bit of everything;\n only one man to a ship because that is all it takes to operate the\n overly efficient repair machinery. Due to the very nature of our job, we\n spend most of our time just rocketing through normal space. After all,\n when a beacon breaks down, how do you find it?\n\n\n Not through hyperspace. All you can do is approach as close as you can\n by using other beacons, then finish the trip in normal space. This can\n take months, and often does.\n\n\n This job didn’t turn out to be quite that bad. I zeroed on the\n Beta Circinus beacon and ran a complicated eight-point problem through\n the navigator, using every beacon I could get an accurate fix on. The\n computer gave me a course with an estimated point-of-arrival as well as\n a built-in safety factor I never could eliminate from the machine.\n\n\n I would much rather take a chance of breaking through near some star\n than spend time just barreling through normal space, but apparently Tech\n knows this, too. They had a safety factor built into the computer so you\n couldn’t end up inside a star no matter how hard you tried.\n I’m sure there was no humaneness in this decision. They just\n didn’t want to lose the ship.\nIt\n was a twenty-hour jump, ship’s time, and I came through in the\n middle of nowhere. The robot analyzer chuckled to itself and scanned all\n the stars, comparing them to the spectra of Proxima Centauri. It finally\n rang a bell and blinked a light. I peeped through the eyepiece.\n\n\n A fast reading with the photocell gave me the apparent magnitude and a\n comparison with its absolute magnitude showed its distance. Not as bad\n as I had thought—a six-week run, give or take a few days. After\n feeding a course tape into the robot pilot, I strapped into the\n acceleration tank and went to sleep.\n\n\n The time went fast. I rebuilt my camera for about the twentieth time and\n just about finished a correspondence course in nucleonics. Most\n repairmen take these courses. Besides their always coming in handy, the\n company grades your pay by the number of specialties you can handle. All\n this, with some oil painting and free-fall workouts in the gym, passed\n the time. I was asleep when the alarm went off that announced planetary\n distance.\n\n\n Planet two, where the beacon was situated according to the old charts,\n was a mushy-looking, wet kind of globe. I tried to make sense out of\n the ancient directions and finally located the right area. Staying\n outside the atmosphere, I sent a flying eye down to look things over. In\n this business, you learn early when and where to risk your own skin. The\n eye would be good enough for the preliminary survey.\n\n\n The old boys had enough brains to choose a traceable site for the\n beacon, equidistant on a line between two of the most prominent mountain\n peaks. I located the peaks easily enough and started the eye out from\n the first peak and kept it on a course directly toward the second. There\n was a nose and tail radar in the eye and I fed their signals into a\n scope as an amplitude curve. When the two peaks coincided, I spun the\n eye controls and dived the thing down.\n\n\n I cut out the radar and cut in the nose orthicon and sat back to watch\n the beacon appear on the screen.\n\n\n The image blinked, focused—and a great damn pyramid swam into\n view. I cursed and wheeled the eye in circles, scanning the surrounding\n country. It was flat, marshy bottom land without a bump. The only thing\n in a ten-mile circle was this pyramid—and that definitely\n wasn’t my beacon.\n\n\n Or wasn’t it?\n\n\n I dived the eye lower. The pyramid was a crude-looking thing of\n undressed stone, without carvings or decorations. There was a shimmer of\n light from the top and I took a closer look at it. On the peak of the\n pyramid was a hollow basin filled with water. When I saw that, something\n clicked in my mind.\nLocking\n the eye in a circular course, I dug through the Mark III\n plans—and there it was. The beacon had a precipitating field and a\n basin on top of it for water; this was used to cool the reactor that\n powered the monstrosity. If the water was still there, the beacon was\n still there—inside the pyramid. The natives, who, of course,\n weren’t even mentioned by the idiots who constructed the thing,\n had built a nice heavy, thick stone pyramid around the beacon.\n\n\n I took another look at the screen and realized that I had locked the eye\n into a circular orbit about twenty feet above the pyramid. The summit of\n the stone pile was now covered with lizards of some type, apparently the\n local life-form. They had what looked like throwing sticks and arbalasts\n and were trying to shoot down the eye, a cloud of arrows and rocks\n flying in every direction.\n\n\n I pulled the eye straight up and away and threw in the control circuit\n that would return it automatically to the ship.\n\n\n Then I went to the galley for a long, strong drink. My beacon was not\n only locked inside a mountain of handmade stone, but I had managed to\n irritate the things who had built the pyramid. A great beginning for a\n job and one clearly designed to drive a stronger man than me to the\n bottle.\n\n\n Normally, a repairman stays away from native cultures. They are poison.\n Anthropologists may not mind being dissected for their science, but a\n repairman wants to make no sacrifices of any kind for his job. For this\n reason, most beacons are built on uninhabited planets. If a beacon\n has\n to go on a planet with a culture, it is usually built in some\n inaccessible place.\n\n\n Why this beacon had been built within reach of the local claws, I had\n yet to find out. But that would come in time. The first thing to do was\n make contact. To make contact, you have to know the local language.\n\n\n And, for\n that\n , I had long before worked out a system that was\n fool-proof.\n\n\n I had a pryeye of my own construction. It looked like a piece of rock\n about a foot long. Once on the ground, it would never be noticed, though\n it was a little disconcerting to see it float by. I located a lizard\n town about a thousand kilometers from the pyramid and dropped the eye.\n It swished down and landed at night in the bank of the local mud wallow.\n This was a favorite spot that drew a good crowd during the day. In the\n morning, when the first wallowers arrived, I flipped on the recorder.\n\n\n After about five of the local days, I had a sea of native conversation\n in the memory bank of the machine translator and had tagged a few\n expressions. This is fairly easy to do when you have a machine memory to\n work with. One of the lizards gargled at another one and the second one\n turned around. I tagged this expression with the phrase, “Hey,\n George!” and waited my chance to use it. Later the same day, I\n caught one of them alone and shouted “Hey, George!” at him.\n It gurgled out through the speaker in the local tongue and he turned\n around.\n\n\n When you get enough reference phrases like this in the memory bank, the\n MT brain takes over and starts filling in the missing pieces. As soon as\n the MT could give a running translation of any conversation it heard, I\n figured it was time to make a contact.\nI found\n him easily enough. He was the Centaurian version of a\n goat-boy—he herded a particularly loathsome form of local life in\n the swamps outside the town. I had one of the working eyes dig a cave in\n an outcropping of rock and wait for him.\n\n\n When he passed next day, I whispered into the mike: “Welcome, O\n Goat-boy Grandson! This is your grandfather’s spirit speaking from\n paradise.” This fitted in with what I could make out of the local\n religion.\n\n\n Goat-boy stopped as if he’d been shot. Before he could move, I\n pushed a switch and a handful of the local currency, wampum-type shells,\n rolled out of the cave and landed at his feet.\n\n\n “Here is some money from paradise, because you have been a good\n boy.” Not really from paradise—I had lifted it from the\n treasury the night before. “Come back tomorrow and we will talk\n some more,” I called after the fleeing figure. I was pleased to\n notice that he took the cash before taking off.\n\n\n After that, Grandpa in paradise had many heart-to-heart talks with\n Grandson, who found the heavenly loot more than he could resist. Grandpa\n had been out of touch with things since his death and Goat-boy happily\n filled him in.\n\n\n I learned all I needed to know of the history, past and recent, and it\n wasn’t nice.\n\n\n In addition to the pyramid being around the beacon, there was a nice\n little religious war going on around the pyramid.\n\n\n It all began with the land bridge. Apparently the local lizards had been\n living in the swamps when the beacon was built, but the builders\n didn’t think much of them. They were a low type and confined to a\n distant continent. The idea that the race would develop and might reach\n this\n continent never occurred to the beacon mechanics. Which is, of\n course, what happened.\n\n\n A little geological turnover, a swampy land bridge formed in the right\n spot, and the lizards began to wander up beacon valley. And found\n religion. A shiny metal temple out of which poured a constant stream of\n magic water—the reactor-cooling water pumped down from the\n atmosphere condenser on the roof. The radioactivity in the water\n didn’t hurt the natives. It caused mutations that bred true.\n\n\n A city was built around the temple and, through the centuries, the\n pyramid was put up around the beacon. A special branch of the priesthood\n served the temple. All went well until one of the priests violated the\n temple and destroyed the holy waters. There had been revolt, strife,\n murder and destruction since then. But still the holy waters would not\n flow. Now armed mobs fought around the temple each day and a new band of\n priests guarded the sacred fount.\n\n\n And I had to walk into the middle of that mess and repair the thing.\n\n\n It would have been easy enough if we were allowed a little mayhem. I\n could have had a lizard fry, fixed the beacon and taken off. Only\n “native life-forms” were quite well protected. There were\n spy cells on my ship, all of which I hadn’t found, that would\n cheerfully rat on me when I got back.\n\n\n Diplomacy was called for. I sighed and dragged out the plastiflesh\n equipment.\nWorking\n from 3D snaps of Grandson, I modeled a passable reptile head\n over my own features. It was a little short in the jaw, me not having\n one of their toothy mandibles, but that was all right. I didn’t\n have to look\n exactly\n like them, just something close, to soothe the\n native mind. It’s logical. If I were an ignorant aborigine of\n Earth and I ran into a Spican, who looks like a two-foot gob of dried\n shellac, I would immediately leave the scene. However, if the Spican was\n wearing a suit of plastiflesh that looked remotely humanoid, I would at\n least stay and talk to him. This was what I was aiming to do with the\n Centaurians.\n\n\n When the head was done, I peeled it off and attached it to an attractive\n suit of green plastic, complete with tail. I was really glad they had\n tails. The lizards didn’t wear clothes and I wanted to take along\n a lot of electronic equipment. I built the tail over a metal frame that\n anchored around my waist. Then I filled the frame with all the equipment\n I would need and began to wire the suit.\n\n\n When it was done, I tried it on in front of a full-length mirror. It was\n horrible but effective. The tail dragged me down in the rear and gave me\n a duck-waddle, but that only helped the resemblance.\n\n\n That night I took the ship down into the hills nearest the pyramid, an\n out-of-the-way dry spot where the amphibious natives would never go. A\n little before dawn, the eye hooked onto my shoulders and we sailed\n straight up. We hovered above the temple at about 2,000 meters, until it\n was light, then dropped straight down.\n\n\n It must have been a grand sight. The eye was camouflaged to look like a\n flying lizard, sort of a cardboard pterodactyl, and the slowly flapping\n wings obviously had nothing to do with our flight. But it was impressive\n enough for the natives. The first one that spotted me screamed and\n dropped over on his back. The others came running. They milled and\n mobbed and piled on top of one another, and by that time I had landed in\n the plaza fronting the temple. The priesthood arrived.\n\n\n I folded my arms in a regal stance. “Greetings, O noble servers of\n the Great God,” I said. Of course I didn’t say it out loud,\n just whispered loud enough for the throat mike to catch. This was\n radioed back to the MT and the translation shot back to a speaker in my\n jaws.\n\n\n The natives chomped and rattled and the translation rolled out almost\n instantly. I had the volume turned up and the whole square echoed.\n\n\n Some of the more credulous natives prostrated themselves and others fled\n screaming. One doubtful type raised a spear, but no one else tried that\n after the pterodactyl-eye picked him up and dropped him in the swamp.\n The priests were a hard-headed lot and weren’t buying any lizards\n in a poke; they just stood and muttered. I had to take the offensive\n again.\n\n\n “Begone, O faithful steed,” I said to the eye, and pressed\n the control in my palm at the same time.\n\n\n It took off straight up a bit faster than I wanted; little pieces of\n wind-torn plastic rained down. While the crowd was ogling this ascent, I\n walked through the temple doors.\n\n\n “I would talk with you, O noble priests,” I said.\n\n\n Before they could think up a good answer, I was inside.\nThe\n temple was a small one built against the base of the pyramid. I\n hoped I wasn’t breaking too many taboos by going in. I\n wasn’t stopped, so it looked all right. The temple was a single\n room with a murky-looking pool at one end. Sloshing in the pool was an\n ancient reptile who clearly was one of the leaders. I waddled toward him\n and he gave me a cold and fishy eye, then growled something.\n\n\n The MT whispered into my ear, “Just what in the name of the\n thirteenth sin are you and what are you doing here?”\n\n\n I drew up my scaly figure in a noble gesture and pointed toward the\n ceiling. “I come from your ancestors to help you. I am here to\n restore the Holy Waters.”\n\n\n This raised a buzz of conversation behind me, but got no rise out of the\n chief. He sank slowly into the water until only his eyes were showing. I\n could almost hear the wheels turning behind that moss-covered forehead.\n Then he lunged up and pointed a dripping finger at me.\n\n\n “You are a liar! You are no ancestor of ours! We\n will—”\n\n\n “Stop!” I thundered before he got so far in that he\n couldn’t back out. “I said your ancestors sent me as\n emissary—I am not one of your ancestors. Do not try to harm me or\n the wrath of those who have Passed On will turn against you.”\n\n\n When I said this, I turned to jab a claw at the other priests, using the\n motion to cover my flicking a coin grenade toward them. It blew a nice\n hole in the floor with a great show of noise and smoke.\n\n\n The First Lizard knew I was talking sense then and immediately called a\n meeting of the shamans. It, of course, took place in the public bathtub\n and I had to join them there. We jawed and gurgled for about an hour and\n settled all the major points.\n\n\n I found out that they were new priests; the previous ones had all been\n boiled for letting the Holy Waters cease. They found out I was there\n only to help them restore the flow of the waters. They bought this,\n tentatively, and we all heaved out of the tub and trickled muddy paths\n across the floor. There was a bolted and guarded door that led into the\n pyramid proper. While it was being opened, the First Lizard turned to\n me.\n\n\n “Undoubtedly you know of the rule,” he said. “Because\n the old priests did pry and peer, it was ruled henceforth that only the\n blind could enter the Holy of Holies.” I’d swear he was\n smiling, if thirty teeth peeking out of what looked like a crack in an\n old suitcase can be called smiling.\n\n\n He was also signaling to him an underpriest who carried a brazier of\n charcoal complete with red-hot irons. All I could do was stand and watch\n as he stirred up the coals, pulled out the ruddiest iron and turned\n toward me. He was just drawing a bead on my right eyeball when my brain\n got back in gear.\n\n\n “Of course,” I said, “blinding is only right. But in\n my case you will have to blind me before I\n leave\n the Holy of Holies, not\n now. I need my eyes to see and mend the Fount of Holy Waters. Once the\n waters flow again, I will laugh as I hurl myself on the burning\n iron.”\nHe\n took a good thirty seconds to think it over and had to agree with me.\n The local torturer sniffled a bit and threw a little more charcoal on\n the fire. The gate crashed open and I stalked through; then it banged to\n behind me and I was alone in the dark.\n\n\n But not for long—there was a shuffling nearby and I took a chance\n and turned on my flash. Three priests were groping toward me, their\n eye-sockets red pits of burned flesh. They knew what I wanted and led\n the way without a word.\n\n\n A crumbling and cracked stone stairway brought us up to a solid metal\n doorway labeled in archaic script\n MARK III BEACON—AUTHORIZED\n PERSONNEL ONLY\n . The trusting builders counted on the sign to do the\n whole job, for there wasn’t a trace of a lock on the door. One\n lizard merely turned the handle and we were inside the beacon.\n\n\n I unzipped the front of my camouflage suit and pulled out the\n blueprints. With the faithful priests stumbling after me, I located the\n control room and turned on the lights. There was a residue of charge in\n the emergency batteries, just enough to give a dim light. The meters and\n indicators looked to be in good shape; if anything, unexpectedly bright\n from constant polishing.\n\n\n I checked the readings carefully and found just what I had suspected.\n One of the eager lizards had managed to open a circuit box and had\n polished the switches inside. While doing this, he had thrown one of the\n switches and that had caused the trouble.\nRather\n , that had\n started\n the trouble. It wasn’t going to be ended\n by just reversing the water-valve switch. This valve was supposed to be\n used only for repairs, after the pile was damped. When the water was cut\n off with the pile in operation, it had started to overheat and the\n automatic safeties had dumped the charge down the pit.\n\n\n I could start the water again easily enough, but there was no fuel left\n in the reactor.\n\n\n I wasn’t going to play with the fuel problem at all. It would be\n far easier to install a new power plant. I had one in the ship that was\n about a tenth the size of the ancient bucket of bolts and produced at\n least four times the power. Before I sent for it, I checked over the\n rest of the beacon. In 2000 years, there should be\n some\n sign of wear.\n\n\n The old boys had built well, I’ll give them credit for that.\n Ninety per cent of the machinery had no moving parts and had suffered no\n wear whatever. Other parts they had beefed up, figuring they would wear,\n but slowly. The water-feed pipe from the roof, for example. The pipe\n walls were at least three meters thick—and the pipe opening itself\n no bigger than my head. There were some things I could do, though, and I\n made a list of parts.\n\n\n The parts, the new power plant and a few other odds and ends were chuted\n into a neat pile on the ship. I checked all the parts by screen before\n they were loaded in a metal crate. In the darkest hour before dawn, the\n heavy-duty eye dropped the crate outside the temple and darted away\n without being seen.\n\n\n I watched the priests through the pryeye while they tried to open it.\n When they had given up, I boomed orders at them through a speaker in the\n crate. They spent most of the day sweating the heavy box up through the\n narrow temple stairs and I enjoyed a good sleep. It was resting inside\n the beacon door when I woke up.\nThe\n repairs didn’t take long, though there was plenty of groaning\n from the blind lizards when they heard me ripping the wall open to get\n at the power leads. I even hooked a gadget to the water pipe so their\n Holy Waters would have the usual refreshing radioactivity when they\n started flowing again. The moment this was all finished, I did the job\n they were waiting for.\n\n\n I threw the switch that started the water flowing again.\n\n\n There were a few minutes while the water began to gurgle down through\n the dry pipe. Then a roar came from outside the pyramid that must have\n shaken its stone walls. Shaking my hands once over my head, I went down\n for the eye-burning ceremony.\n\n\n The blind lizards were waiting for me by the door and looked even\n unhappier than usual. When I tried the door, I found out why—it\n was bolted and barred from the other side.\n\n\n “It has been decided,” a lizard said, “that you shall\n remain here forever and tend the Holy Waters. We will stay with you and\n serve your every need.”\n\n\n A delightful prospect, eternity spent in a locked beacon with three\n blind lizards. In spite of their hospitality, I couldn’t accept.\n\n\n “What—you dare interfere with the messenger of your\n ancestors!” I had the speaker on full volume and the vibration\n almost shook my head off.\n\n\n The lizards cringed and I set my Solar for a narrow beam and ran it\n around the door jamb. There was a great crunching and banging from the\n junk piled against it, and then the door swung free. I threw it open.\n Before they could protest, I had pushed the priests out through it.\n\n\n The rest of their clan showed up at the foot of the stairs and made a\n great ruckus while I finished welding the door shut. Running through the\n crowd, I faced up to the First Lizard in his tub. He sank slowly beneath\n the surface.\n\n\n “What lack of courtesy!” I shouted. He made little bubbles\n in the water. “The ancestors are annoyed and have decided to\n forbid entrance to the Inner Temple forever; though, out of kindness,\n they will let the waters flow. Now I must return—on with the\n ceremony!”\n\n\n The torture-master was too frightened to move, so I grabbed out his hot\n iron. A touch on the side of my face dropped a steel plate over my eyes,\n under the plastiskin. Then I jammed the iron hard into my phony\n eye-sockets and the plastic gave off an authentic odor.\n\n\n A cry went up from the crowd as I dropped the iron and staggered in\n blind circles. I must admit it went off pretty well.\nBefore\n they could get any more bright ideas, I threw the switch and my\n plastic pterodactyl sailed in through the door. I couldn’t see it,\n of course, but I knew it had arrived when the grapples in the claws\n latched onto the steel plates on my shoulders.\n\n\n I had got turned around after the eye-burning and my flying beast hooked\n onto me backward. I had meant to sail out bravely, blind eyes facing\n into the sunset; instead, I faced the crowd as I soared away, so I made\n the most of a bad situation and threw them a snappy military salute.\n Then I was out in the fresh air and away.\n\n\n When I lifted the plate and poked holes in the seared plastic, I could\n see the pyramid growing smaller behind me, water gushing out of the base\n and a happy crowd of reptiles sporting in its radioactive rush. I\n counted off on my talons to see if I had forgotten anything.\n\n\n One: The beacon was repaired.\n\n\n Two: The door was sealed, so there should be no more sabotage,\n accidental or deliberate.\n\n\n Three: The priests should be satisfied. The water was running again, my\n eyes had been duly burned out, and they were back in business. Which\n added up to—\n\n\n Four: The fact that they would probably let another repairman in, under\n the same conditions, if the beacon conked out again. At least I had done\n nothing, like butchering a few of them, that would make them\n antagonistic toward future ancestral messengers.\n\n\n I stripped off my tattered lizard suit back in the ship, very glad that\n it would be some other repairman who’d get the job.\n—\nHarry Harrison\nTranscriber’s Note\n\n\n This etext was produced from\n Galaxy\n February 1958. Extensive research\n did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication\n was renewed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Is the main character good at his job?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_1", "options": ["Yes, he will break any rule to fulfill his duties.", "No, he wants to quit.", "No, he spends too much time drinking and messing around.", "Yes, he is both creative and professional."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are the beacons important?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_2", "options": ["Ships travel through beacons in hyperspace.", "Beacons are religious focal points for natives.", "They aren't; ships can travel without them.", "Beacons are like landmarks or stars for ships to use in navigation."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why were the buttons in the temple so polished?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_3", "options": ["The original builders had built them well.", "They were cleaned by the priests in reverence.", "They were worn from overuse.", "They were cleaned with the Holy Waters."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following words best describes the main character's personality?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_4", "options": ["Sarcastic", "Good-natured", "Serious", "Reverent"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why didn't the main character use his gun to fix the problem with the locals?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_5", "options": ["He did not want to kill off a species just to fix a beacon.", "His time with the natives caused him to respect them.", "He was not allowed to use violence.", "He did not have a gun."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the main character spend so much time with Goat-boy?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_6", "options": ["He needed time to think of a plan.", "He needed to continue learning the language.", "He needed an ally to infiltrate the community.", "He needed to understand the culture and current events."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following technologies does the main character not use to impress the natives?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_7", "options": ["Robots", "The Beacon", "Explosives", "Microphones"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the natives believe the main character was who he said he was?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_8", "options": ["The natives were credulous.", "They did not really believe him.", "The plastiskin made him look like the natives.", "The main character tricked them with technology."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the main character feel while he was in the temple?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_9", "options": ["Angry", "Relaxed", "Happy", "Worried"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have happened if the main character had been less diplomatic and more aggressive?", "question_unique_id": "22073_KJM8YN1V_10", "options": ["All of the options are correct.", "He would have needed to resort to violence.", "He would have been fined for disrupting the natives.", "He could make future repairs more difficult."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/0/7/22073//22073-h//22073-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22102", "set_unique_id": "22102_NZCNKEWF", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Hills of Home", "year": 1962, "author": "Coppel, Alfred", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "[115]\nTHE HILLS OF HOME\n\n by Alfred Coppel\n“Normality” is a myth; we're all a little neurotic, and the\n study of neurosis has been able to classify the general types of\n disturbance which are most common. And some types (providing the subject\n is not suffering so extreme a case as to have crossed the border into\n psychosis) can be not only useful, but perhaps necessary for certain\n kinds of work....\nThe river ran still and deep, green and gray in the eddies with the\n warm smell of late summer rising out of the slow water. Madrone and\n birch and willow, limp in the evening quiet, and the taste of\n smouldering leaves....\n\n\n It wasn’t the Russian River. It was the Sacred Iss. The sun had touched\n the gem-encrusted cliffs by the shores of the Lost Sea of Korus and had\n vanished, leaving only the stillness of the dusk and the lonely cry of\n shore birds.\n\n\n From downstream came the faint sounds of music. It might have been a\n phonograph playing in one of the summer cabins with names like Polly Ann\n Roost and Patches and Seventh Heaven, but to Kimmy it was the hated cry\n of the Father of Therns calling the dreadful Plant Men to their feast of\n victims borne into\n [116]\n this Valley Dor by the mysterious Iss.\n\n\n Kimmy shifted the heavy Martian pistol into his left hand and checked\n his harness. A soft smile touched his lips. He was well armed; there was\n nothing he had to fear from the Plant Men. His bare feet turned\n up-stream, away from the sound of the phonograph, toward the shallows in\n the river that would permit him to cross and continue his search along\n the base of the Golden Cliffs—\nThe sergeant's voice cut through the pre-dawn darkness. “Oh, three\n hundred, Colonel.... Briefing in thirty minutes.”\n\n\n Kimball tried to see him in the black gloom. He hadn’t been asleep. It\n would have been hard to waste this last night that way. Instead he had\n been remembering. “All right, Sergeant,” he said.\n “Coming up.”\n\n\n He swung his feet to the bare boards and sat for a moment, wishing he\n hadn’t had to give up smoking. He could almost imagine the textured\n taste of the cigaret on his tongue.\n\n\n Oddly enough, he wasn’t tired. He wasn’t excited, either. And that was\n much stranger. He stood up and opened the window to look out into the\n desert night. Overhead the stars were brilliant and cold. Mars gleamed\n russet-colored against the sable sky. He smiled, remembering again. So\n long a road, he thought, from then to now.\n\n\n Then he stopped smiling and turned away from the window. It hadn’t been\n an easy path and what was coming up now was the hardest part. The goddam\n psychs were the toughest, always wanting him to bug out on the deal\n because of their brainwave graphs and word association tests and their\n Rorschach blots.\n\n\n “You’re a lonely man, Colonel Kimball——”\n\n\n “Too much imagination could be bad for this job.”\n\n\n How could you sit there with pentothal in your veins and wires running\n out of your head and tell them about the still waters of Korus, or the\n pennons flying from the twin towers of Greater Helium or the way the\n tiny, slanting sun gleamed at dawn through the rigging of a flyer?\n\n\n Kimball snapped on a light and looked at his watch. 0310. Zero minus one\n fifty. He opened the steel locker and began to dress.\nThe water swirled warm and velvety around his ankles. There, behind\n that madrone, Kimmy thought. Was that a Plant Man? The thick white trunk\n and the grasping, blood-sucking arms——\n\n\n The radium pistol’s weight made his wrist ache, but he clung to it\n tightly, knowing that he\n [117]\n could never cope with a Plant Man with a sword\n alone. The certainty of coming battle made him smile a little, the way\n John Carter would smile if he were here in the Valley Dor ready to\n attack the white Therns and their Plant Men.\n\n\n For a moment, Kimmy felt a thrill of apprehension. The deepening\n stillness of the river was closing in around him. Even the music from\n the phonograph was very, very faint. Above him, the great vault of the\n sky was changing from pink to gray to dusty blue. A bright star was\n breaking through the curtain of fading light. He knew it was Venus, the\n Evening Star. But let it be Earth, he thought. And instead of white, let\n it be the color of an emerald.\n\n\n He paused in midstream, letting the warm water riffle around his feet.\n Looking up at the green beacon of his home planet, he thought: I’ve left\n all that behind me. It was never really what I wanted. Mars is where I\n belong. With my friends, Tars Tarkas the great Green Jeddak, and Carter,\n the Warlord, and all the beautiful brave people.\nThe phonograph sang with Vallee’s voice: “Cradle me where\n southern skies can watch me with a million eyes——”\n\n\n Kimmy’s eyes narrowed and he waded stealthily across the sacred river.\n That would be Matai Shang, the Father of Holy Therns—spreading his arms\n to the sunset and standing safely on his high balcony in the Golden\n Cliffs while the Plant Men gathered to attack the poor pilgrims Iss had\n brought to this cursed valley.\n\n\n “Sing me to sleep, lullaby of the leaves”—the phonograph\n sang. Kimmy stepped cautiously ashore and moved into the cover of a\n clump of willows. The sky was darkening fast. Other stars were shining\n through. There wasn’t much time left.\nKimball stood now in the bright glare of the briefing shack, a strange\n figure in blood-colored plastic. The representatives of the press had\n been handed the mimeographed releases by the PRO and now they sat in\n silence, studying the red figure of the man who was to ride the rocket.\n\n\n They were thinking: Why him? Out of all the scores of\n applicants—because there are always applicants for a sure-death\n job—and all the qualified pilots, why this one?\n\n\n The Public Relations Officer was speaking now, reading from the mimeoed\n release as though these civilians couldn’t be trusted to get the sparse\n information given them straight without his help, given grudgingly and\n without expression.\n\n\n [118]\n Kimball listened, only half aware of what was being said. He watched the\n faces of the men sitting on the rows of folding chairs, saw their eyes\n like wounds, red from the early morning hour and the murmuring reception\n of the night before in the Officers’ Club. They are wondering how\nI\nfeel, he was thinking. And asking themselves why I want to go.\n\n\n On the dais nearby, listening to the PRO, but watching Kimball, sat\n Steinhart, the team analyst. Kimball returned his steady gaze thinking:\n They start out burning with desire to cure the human mind and end with\n the shadow of the images. The words become the fact, the therapy the\n aim. What could Steinhart know of longing? No, he thought, I’m not being\n fair. Steinhart was only doing his job.\n\n\n The big clock on the back wall of the briefing shack said three\n fifty-five. Zero minus one hour and five minutes.\n\n\n Kimball looked around the room at the pale faces, the open mouths. What\n have I to do with you now, he thought?\nOutside, the winter night lay cold and still over the Base. Floodlights\n spilled brilliance over the dunes and the scrubby earth, high fences\n casting laced shadows across the burning white expanses of\n ferroconcrete.\n\n\n As they filed out of the briefing shack, Steinhart climbed into the\n command car with Kimball. Chance or design? Kimball wondered. The\n others, he noticed, were leaving both of them alone.\n\n\n “We haven’t gotten on too well, have we, Colonel?” Steinhart\n observed in a quiet voice.\n\n\n Kimball thought: He’s pale skinned and very blond. What is it that he\n reminds me of? Shouldn’t there be a diadem on his forehead? He smiled\n vaguely into the rumbling night. That’s what it was. Odd that he should\n have forgotten. How many rocket pilots, he wondered, were weaned on\n Burroughs’ books? And how many remembered now that the Thern priests all\n wore yellow wings and a circlet of gold with some fantastic jewel on\n their forehead?\n\n\n “We’ve done as well as could be expected,” he said.\n\n\n Steinhart reached for a cigaret and then stopped, remembering that\n Kimball had had to give them up because of the flight. Kimball caught\n the movement and half-smiled.\n\n\n “I didn’t try to kill the assignment for you, Kim,” the\n psych said.\n\n\n “It doesn’t matter now.”\n\n\n “No, I suppose not.”\n\n\n “You just didn’t think I was the man for the job.”\n\n\n “Your record is good all the way. You know that,” Steinhart\n [119]\n said. “It’s just some of the things——”\n\n\n Kimball said: “I talked too much.”\n\n\n “You had to.”\n\n\n “You wouldn’t think my secret life was so dangerous, would\n you,” the Colonel said smiling.\n\n\n “You were married, Kim. What happened?”\n\n\n “More therapy?”\n\n\n “I’d like to know. This is for me.”\nKimball shrugged. “It didn’t work. She was a fine girl—but she\n finally told me it was no go. ‘You don’t live here’ was the\n way she put it.”\n\n\n “She knew you were a career officer; what did she\n expect——?”\n\n\n “That isn’t what she meant. You know that.”\n\n\n “Yes,” the psych said slowly. “I know that.”\n\n\n They rode in silence, across the dark Base, between the concrete sheds\n and the wooden barracks. Overhead, the stars like dust across the sky.\n Kimball, swathed in plastic, a fantastic figure not of earth, watched\n them wheel across the clear, deep night.\n\n\n “I wish you luck, Kim,” Steinhart said. “I mean\n that.”\n\n\n “Thanks.” Vaguely, as though from across a deep and widening\n gulf.\n\n\n “What will you do?”\n\n\n “You know the answers as well as I,” the Colonel said\n impatiently. “Set up the camp and wait for the next rocket. If it\n comes.”\n\n\n “In two years.”\n\n\n “In two years,” the plastic figure said. Didn’t he know that\n it didn’t matter?\n\n\n He glanced at his watch. Zero minus fifty-six minutes.\n\n\n “Kim,” Steinhart said slowly. “There’s something you\n should know about. Something you really should be prepared for.”\n\n\n “Yes?” Disinterest in his voice now, Steinhart noted\n clinically. Natural under the circumstances? Or neurosis building up\n already?\n\n\n “Our tests showed you to be a schizoid—well-compensated, of\n course. You know there’s no such thing as a\nnormal\nhuman being. We all\n have tendencies toward one or more types of psychoses. In your case the\n symptoms are an overly active imagination and in some cases an inability\n to distinguish reality from—well, fancy.”\nKimball turned to regard the psych\n coolly\n .\n “What’s reality, Steinhart? Do\nyou\nknow?”\n\n\n The analyst flushed. “No.”\n\n\n “I didn’t think so.”\n\n\n “You lived pretty much in your mind when you were a child,”\n Steinhart went on doggedly. “You were a solitary, a lonely\n child.”\n\n\n [120]\n Kimball was watching the sky again.\n\n\n Steinhart felt futile and out of his depth. “We know so little\n about the psychology of space-flight, Kim——”\n\n\n Silence. The rumble of the tires on the packed sand of the road, the\n murmur of the command car’s engine, spinning oilily, and lit by tiny\n sunbright flashes deep in the hollows of the hot metal.\n\n\n “You’re glad to be leaving, aren’t you—” Steinhart said\n finally. “Happy to be the first man to try for the\n planets——”\n\n\n Kimball nodded absently, wishing the man would be quiet. Mars, a dull\n rusty point of light low on the horizon, seemed to beckon.\n\n\n They topped the last hillock and dropped down into the lighted bowl of\n the launching site. The rocket towered, winged and monstrously checkered\n in white and orange, against the first flickerings of the false dawn.\nKimmy saw the girls before they saw him. In their new, low waisted\n middies and skirts, they looked strange and out of place standing by the\n pebbled shore of the River Iss.\n\n\n They were his sisters, Rose and Margaret. Older than he at fifteen and\n seventeen. But they walked by the river and into danger. Behind him he\n could hear the rustling sound of the Plant Men as the evening breeze\n came up.\n\n\n “Kimm-eeeee—”\n\n\n They were calling him. In the deepening dusk their voices carried far\n down the river. “Kimmmmm—eeeeeeeeee—”\n\n\n He knew he should answer them, but he did not. Behind him he could hear\n the awful Plant Men approaching. He shivered with delicious horror.\n\n\n He stood very still, listening to his sisters talking, letting their\n voices carry down to where he hid from the dangers of the Valley Dor.\n\n\n “Where is that little brat, anyway?”\n\n\n “He always wanders off just at dinnertime and then we have to find\n him——”\n\n\n “Playing with that old faucet—” Mimicry. “‘My\n rad-ium pis-tol——’”\n\n\n “Cracked—just cracked. Oh, where IS he, anyway? Kimmm-eee, you\n AN-swer!”\n\n\n Something died in him. It wasn’t a faucet, it WAS a radium pistol. He\n looked at his sisters with dismay. They weren’t really his sisters. They\n were Therns, with their yellow hair and their pale skins. He and John\n Carter and Tars Tarkas had fought them many times, piling their bodies\n for barricades and weaving a flashing pattern of skillful swords in the\n shifting light of the two moons.\n\n\n [121]\n “Kimmmm—eeee Mom’s going to be mad at you! Answer us!”\n\n\n If only Tars Tarkas would come now. If only the great Green Jeddak would\n come splashing across the stream on his huge thoat, his two swords\n clashing——\n\n\n “He’s up there in that clump of willows—hiding!”\n\n\n “Kimmy! You come down here this instant!”\n\n\n The Valley Dor was blurring, fading. The Golden Cliffs were turning into\n sandy, river-worn banks. The faucet felt heavy in his grimy hand. He\n shivered, not with horror now. With cold.\n\n\n He walked slowly out of the willows, stumbling a little over the rocks.\nHe lay like an embryo in the viscera of the ship, protected and quite\n alone. The plastic sac contained him, fed him; and the rocket, silent\n now, coursed through the airless deep like a questing thought. Time was\n measured by the ticking of the telemeters and the timers, but Kimball\n slept insulated and complete.\n\n\n And he dreamed.\n\n\n He dreamed of that summer when the river lay still and deep under the\n hanging willows. He dreamed of his sisters, thin and angular creatures\n as he remembered them through the eyes of a nine-year-old——\n\n\n And his mother, tall and shadowy, standing on the porch of the rented\n cottage and saying exasperatedly: “\nWhy do you run off by\n yourself, Kimmy? I worry about you so——\n”\n\n\n And his sisters: “\nPlaying with his wooden swords and his radium\n pistol and never wanting to take his nose out of those awful\n books——\n”\n\n\n He dreamed of the low, beamed ceiling of the cottage, sweltering in the\n heat of the summer nights and the thick longing in his throat for red\n hills and a sky that burned deep blue through the long, long days and\n canals, clear and still. A land that he knew somehow never was, but\n which lived, for him, through some alchemy of the mind. He dreamed of\n Mars.\n\n\n And Steinhart: “\nWhat is reality, Kimmy?\n”\nThe hours stretched into days, the days into months. Time wasn’t. Time\n was a deep night and a starshot void. And dreams.\n\n\n He awoke seldom. His tasks were simple. The plastic sac and the tender\n care of the ship were more real than the routine jobs of telemetering\n information back to the Base across the empty miles, across the rim of\n the world.\n\n\n He dreamed of his wife. “\nYou don’t live here, Kim.\n”\n\n\n She was right, of course. He\n [122]\n wasn’t of earth. Never had been. My love\n is in the sky, he thought, filled with an immense satisfaction.\n\n\n And time slipped by, the weeks into months; the sun dwindled and earth\n was gone. All around him lay the stunning star-dusted night.\n\n\n He lay curled in the plastic womb when the ship turned. He awoke\n sluggishly and dragged himself into awareness.\n\n\n “I’ve changed,” he thought aloud. “My face is younger;\n I feel different.”\n\n\n The keening sound of air over the wings brought a thrill. Below him, a\n great curving disk of reds and browns and yellows. He could see dust\n storms raging and the heavy, darkened lines of the canals.\n\n\n There was skill in his hands. He righted the rocket, balanced it. Began\n the tricky task of landing. It took all of his talent, all of his\n training. Ponderously, the ship settled into the iron sand; slowly, the\n internal fires died.\nKimball stood in the control room, his heart pounding. Slowly, the ports\n opened. Through the thick quartz he could see the endless plain. Reddish\n brown, empty. The basin of some long ago sea. The sky was a deep,\n burning blue with stars shining at midday at the zenith. It looked\n unreal, a painting of unworldly quiet and desolation.\nWhat is reality, Kimmy?\nSteinhart was right, he thought vaguely. A tear streaked his cheek. He\n had never been so alone.\n\n\n And then he imagined he saw something moving on the great plain. He\n scrambled down through the ship, past the empty fuel tanks and the\n lashed supplies. His hands were clawing desperately at the dogs of the\n outer valve. Suddenly the pressure jerked the hatch from his hands and\n he gasped at the icy air, his lungs laboring to breathe.\n\n\n He dropped to one knee and sucked at the thin, frigid air. His vision\n was cloudy and his head felt light. But there\nwas\nsomething moving on\n the plain.\n\n\n A shadowy cavalcade.\nStrange monstrous men on\n fantastic\n war-mounts, long spears and\n fluttering pennons. Huge golden chariots with scythes flashing on the\n circling hubs and armored giants, the figments of a long remembered\n dream——\n\n\n He dropped to the sand and dug his hands into the dry powdery soil. He\n could scarcely see now, for blackness was flickering at the edges of his\n vision and his failing heart and lungs were near collapse.\nKimmm-eee!\n[123]\n A huge green warrior on a gray monster of a thoat was beckoning to him.\n Pointing toward the low hills on the oddly near horizon.\nKimmmm-eeeee!\nThe voice was thin and distant on the icy wind. Kimball knew that voice.\n He knew it from long ago in the Valley Dor, from the shores of the Lost\n Sea of Korus where the tideless waters lay black and deep——\n\n\n He began stumbling across the empty, lifeless plain. He knew the voice,\n he knew the man, and he knew the hills that he must reach, quickly now,\n or die.\n\n\n They were the hills of home.\nTranscriber’s Note and Errata\nThis etext was produced from “Future Science Fiction” No. 30\n 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed.\nThe original page numbers from the magazine have been preserved.\nThe following errors have been corrected:\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the age difference between Kimball and his oldest sister?", "question_unique_id": "22102_NZCNKEWF_1", "options": ["9 years", "15 years", "17 years", "8 years"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Kimball's home planet?", "question_unique_id": "22102_NZCNKEWF_2", "options": ["Unknown", "Venus", "Mars", "Earth"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Kimball's marriage end?", "question_unique_id": "22102_NZCNKEWF_3", "options": ["We never learn why it ended.", "He was a career officer.", "She ended it because she felt he wasn't committed.", "He left his wife because he was bored."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is wrong with Kimball?", "question_unique_id": "22102_NZCNKEWF_4", "options": ["He is neurotic.", "He is completely psychotic.", "There is nothing wrong with him.", "His schizoid tendencies are amplified by space travel."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Did Kimball's sisters like him?", "question_unique_id": "22102_NZCNKEWF_5", "options": ["Yes, they go out to make sure he's safe.", "No, they seem burdened by having him around.", "No, they hate him.", "Yes, they play make believe with him."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Kimball like to do when he was a boy?", "question_unique_id": "22102_NZCNKEWF_6", "options": ["Smoke cigarets.", "Read.", "Play with his sisters.", "Fight Therns."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does young Kimball use as a weapon?", "question_unique_id": "22102_NZCNKEWF_7", "options": ["A radium pistol", "A book", "A faucet", "A Martian pistol"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Is Kimball happy?", "question_unique_id": "22102_NZCNKEWF_8", "options": ["No, he wishes he never left.", "No, he is terribly lonely.", "Yes, he gets to travel all over.", "Yes, he loves losing himself in imagination."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/1/0/22102//22102-h//22102-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22218", "set_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Street That Wasn't There", "year": 1952, "author": "Jacobi, Carl; Simak, Clifford D.", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\n\n\n This etext was produced from Comet, July 1941. Extensive research did\n not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication\n was renewed.\nThe Street That\n\n Wasn't There\nby CLIFFORD D. SIMAK and CARL JACOBI\nMr. Jonathon Chambers left his house on Maple Street at exactly\n seven o'clock in the evening and set out on the daily walk he had\n taken, at the same time, come rain or snow, for twenty solid\n years.\n\n\n The walk never varied. He paced two blocks down Maple Street,\n stopped at the Red Star confectionery to buy a Rose Trofero\n perfecto, then walked to the end of the fourth block on Maple.\n There he turned right on Lexington, followed Lexington to Oak,\n down Oak and so by way of Lincoln back to Maple again and to his\n home.\n\n\n He didn't walk fast. He took his time. He always returned to his\n front door at exactly 7:45. No one ever stopped to talk with\n him. Even the man at the Red Star confectionery, where he bought\n his cigar, remained silent while the purchase was being made. Mr.\n Chambers merely tapped on the glass top of the counter with a\n coin, the man reached in and brought forth the box, and Mr.\n Chambers took his cigar. That was all.\n\n\n For people long ago had gathered that Mr. Chambers desired to be\n left alone. The newer generation of townsfolk called it\n eccentricity. Certain uncouth persons had a different word for\n it. The oldsters remembered that this queer looking individual\n with his black silk muffler, rosewood cane and bowler hat once\n had been a professor at State University.\n\n\n A professor of metaphysics, they seemed to recall, or some such\n outlandish subject. At any rate a furore of some sort was\n connected with his name ... at the time an academic scandal. He\n had written a book, and he had taught the subject matter of that\n volume to his classes. What that subject matter was, had long been\n forgotten, but whatever it was had been considered sufficiently\n revolutionary to cost Mr. Chambers his post at the university.\n\n\n A silver moon shone over the chimney tops and a chill, impish\n October wind was rustling the dead leaves when Mr. Chambers\n started out at seven o'clock.\n\n\n It was a good night, he told himself, smelling the clean, crisp\n air of autumn and the faint pungence of distant wood smoke.\n\n\n He walked unhurriedly, swinging his cane a bit less jauntily than\n twenty years ago. He tucked the muffler more securely under the\n rusty old topcoat and pulled his bowler hat more firmly on his\n head.\n\n\n He noticed that the street light at the corner of Maple and\n Jefferson was out and he grumbled a little to himself when he was\n forced to step off the walk to circle a boarded-off section of\n newly-laid concrete work before the driveway of 816.\n\n\n It seemed that he reached the corner of Lexington and Maple just\n a bit too quickly, but he told himself that this couldn't be. For\n he never did that. For twenty years, since the year following his\n expulsion from the university, he had lived by the clock.\n\n\n The same thing, at the same time, day after day. He had not\n deliberately set upon such a life of routine. A bachelor, living\n alone with sufficient money to supply his humble needs, the timed\n existence had grown on him gradually.\n\n\n So he turned on Lexington and back on Oak. The dog at the corner\n of Oak and Jefferson was waiting for him once again and came out\n snarling and growling, snapping at his heels. But Mr. Chambers\n pretended not to notice and the beast gave up the chase.\n\n\n A radio was blaring down the street and faint wisps of what it\n was blurting floated to Mr. Chambers.\n\n\n \"... still taking place ... Empire State building disappeared ...\n thin air ... famed scientist, Dr. Edmund Harcourt....\"\n\n\n The wind whipped the muted words away and Mr. Chambers grumbled\n to himself. Another one of those fantastic radio dramas,\n probably. He remembered one from many years before, something\n about the Martians. And Harcourt! What did Harcourt have to do\n with it? He was one of the men who had ridiculed the book\n Mr. Chambers had written.\n\n\n But he pushed speculation away, sniffed the clean, crisp air again,\n looked at the familiar things that materialized out of the late\n autumn darkness as he walked along. For there was nothing ...\n absolutely nothing in the world ... that he would let upset him.\n That was a tenet he had laid down twenty years ago.\nThere was a crowd of men in front of the drugstore at the corner\n of Oak and Lincoln and they were talking excitedly. Mr. Chambers\n caught some excited words: \"It's happening everywhere.... What\n do you think it is.... The scientists can't explain....\"\n\n\n But as Mr. Chambers neared them they fell into what seemed an\n abashed silence and watched him pass. He, on his part, gave them\n no sign of recognition. That was the way it had been for many\n years, ever since the people had become convinced that he did not\n wish to talk.\n\n\n One of the men half started forward as if to speak to him, but\n then stepped back and Mr. Chambers continued on his walk.\n\n\n Back at his own front door he stopped and as he had done a\n thousand times before drew forth the heavy gold watch from his\n pocket.\n\n\n He started violently. It was only 7:30!\n\n\n For long minutes he stood there staring at the watch in\n accusation. The timepiece hadn't stopped, for it still ticked\n audibly.\n\n\n But 15 minutes too soon! For twenty years, day in, day out, he\n had started out at seven and returned at a quarter of eight.\n Now....\n\n\n It wasn't until then that he realized something else was wrong.\n He had no cigar. For the first time he had neglected to purchase\n his evening smoke.\n\n\n Shaken, muttering to himself, Mr. Chambers let himself in his\n house and locked the door behind him.\n\n\n He hung his hat and coat on the rack in the hall and walked\n slowly into the living room. Dropping into his favorite chair, he\n shook his head in bewilderment.\n\n\n Silence filled the room. A silence that was measured by the\n ticking of the old fashioned pendulum clock on the mantelpiece.\n\n\n But silence was no strange thing to Mr. Chambers. Once he had\n loved music ... the kind of music he could get by tuning in\n symphonic orchestras on the radio. But the radio stood silent in\n the corner, the cord out of its socket. Mr. Chambers had pulled\n it out many years before. To be precise, upon the night when the\n symphonic broadcast had been interrupted to give a news flash.\n\n\n He had stopped reading newspapers and magazines too, had exiled\n himself to a few city blocks. And as the years flowed by, that\n self exile had become a prison, an intangible, impassable wall\n bounded by four city blocks by three. Beyond them lay utter,\n unexplainable terror. Beyond them he never went.\n\n\n But recluse though he was, he could not on occasion escape from\n hearing things. Things the newsboy shouted on the streets, things\n the men talked about on the drugstore corner when they didn't see\n him coming.\n\n\n And so he knew that this was the year 1960 and that the wars in\n Europe and Asia had flamed to an end to be followed by a terrible\n plague, a plague that even now was sweeping through country after\n country like wild fire, decimating populations. A plague\n undoubtedly induced by hunger and privation and the miseries of\n war.\n\n\n But those things he put away as items far removed from his own\n small world. He disregarded them. He pretended he had never heard\n of them. Others might discuss and worry over them if they wished.\n To him they simply did not matter.\n\n\n But there were two things tonight that did matter. Two curious,\n incredible events. He had arrived home fifteen minutes early. He\n had forgotten his cigar.\n\n\n Huddled in the chair, he frowned slowly. It was disquieting to\n have something like that happen. There must be something wrong.\n Had his long exile finally turned his mind ... perhaps just a\n very little ... enough to make him queer? Had he lost his sense\n of proportion, of perspective?\n\n\n No, he hadn't. Take this room, for example. After twenty years it\n had come to be as much a part of him as the clothes he wore.\n Every detail of the room was engraved in his mind with ...\n clarity; the old center leg table with its green covering and\n stained glass lamp; the mantelpiece with the dusty bric-a-brac;\n the pendulum clock that told the time of day as well as the day\n of the week and month; the elephant ash tray on the tabaret and,\n most important of all, the marine print.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers loved that picture. It had depth, he always said. It\n showed an old sailing ship in the foreground on a placid sea. Far\n in the distance, almost on the horizon line, was the vague\n outline of a larger vessel.\n\n\n There were other pictures, too. The forest scene above the\n fireplace, the old English prints in the corner where he sat, the\n Currier and Ives above the radio. But the ship print was directly\n in his line of vision. He could see it without turning his head.\n He had put it there because he liked it best.\n\n\n Further reverie became an effort as Mr. Chambers felt himself\n succumbing to weariness. He undressed and went to bed. For an\n hour he lay awake, assailed by vague fears he could neither\n define nor understand.\n\n\n When finally he dozed off it was to lose himself in a series of\n horrific dreams. He dreamed first that he was a castaway on a\n tiny islet in mid-ocean, that the waters around the island teemed\n with huge poisonous sea snakes ... hydrophinnae ... and that\n steadily those serpents were devouring the island.\n\n\n In another dream he was pursued by a horror which he could\n neither see nor hear, but only could imagine. And as he sought to\n flee he stayed in the one place. His legs worked frantically,\n pumping like pistons, but he could make no progress. It was as if\n he ran upon a treadway.\n\n\n Then again the terror descended on him, a black, unimagined thing\n and he tried to scream and couldn't. He opened his mouth and\n strained his vocal cords and filled his lungs to bursting with\n the urge to shriek ... but not a sound came from his lips.\nAll next day he was uneasy and as he left the house that evening,\n at precisely seven o'clock, he kept saying to himself: \"You must\n not forget tonight! You must remember to stop and get your\n cigar!\"\n\n\n The street light at the corner of Jefferson was still out and in\n front of 816 the cemented driveway was still boarded off.\n Everything was the same as the night before.\n\n\n And now, he told himself, the Red Star confectionery is in the\n next block. I must not forget tonight. To forget twice in a row\n would be just too much.\n\n\n He grasped that thought firmly in his mind, strode just a bit\n more rapidly down the street.\n\n\n But at the corner he stopped in consternation. Bewildered, he\n stared down the next block. There was no neon sign, no splash of\n friendly light upon the sidewalk to mark the little store tucked\n away in this residential section.\n\n\n He stared at the street marker and read the word slowly: GRANT. He\n read it again, unbelieving, for this shouldn't be Grant Street, but\n Marshall. He had walked two blocks and the confectionery was between\n Marshall and Grant. He hadn't come to Marshall yet ... and here was\n Grant.\n\n\n Or had he, absent-mindedly, come one block farther than he\n thought, passed the store as on the night before?\n\n\n For the first time in twenty years, Mr. Chambers retraced his\n steps. He walked back to Jefferson, then turned around and went\n back to Grant again and on to Lexington. Then back to Grant\n again, where he stood astounded while a single, incredible fact\n grew slowly in his brain:\nThere wasn't any confectionery! The block from Marshall to Grant\n had disappeared!\nNow he understood why he had missed the store on the night\n before, why he had arrived home fifteen minutes early.\n\n\n On legs that were dead things he stumbled back to his home. He\n slammed and locked the door behind him and made his way\n unsteadily to his chair in the corner.\n\n\n What was this? What did it mean? By what inconceivable\n necromancy could a paved street with houses, trees and buildings\n be spirited away and the space it had occupied be closed up?\n\n\n Was something happening in the world which he, in his secluded\n life, knew nothing about?\n\n\n Mr. Chambers shivered, reached to turn up the collar of his coat,\n then stopped as he realized the room must be warm. A fire blazed\n merrily in the grate. The cold he felt came from something ...\n somewhere else. The cold of fear and horror, the chill of a half\n whispered thought.\n\n\n A deathly silence had fallen, a silence still measured by the\n pendulum clock. And yet a silence that held a different tenor than\n he had ever sensed before. Not a homey, comfortable silence ... but\n a silence that hinted at emptiness and nothingness.\n\n\n There was something back of this, Mr. Chambers told himself.\n Something that reached far back into one corner of his brain and\n demanded recognition. Something tied up with the fragments of\n talk he had heard on the drugstore corner, bits of news\n broadcasts he had heard as he walked along the street, the\n shrieking of the newsboy calling his papers. Something to do with\n the happenings in the world from which he had excluded himself.\nHe brought them back to mind now and lingered over the one\n central theme of the talk he overheard: the wars and plagues.\n Hints of a Europe and Asia swept almost clean of human life, of\n the plague ravaging Africa, of its appearance in South America,\n of the frantic efforts of the United States to prevent its spread\n into that nation's boundaries.\n\n\n Millions of people were dead in Europe and Asia, Africa and South\n America. Billions, perhaps.\n\n\n And somehow those gruesome statistics seemed tied up with his own\n experience. Something, somewhere, some part of his earlier life,\n seemed to hold an explanation. But try as he would his befuddled\n brain failed to find the answer.\n\n\n The pendulum clock struck slowly, its every other chime as usual\n setting up a sympathetic vibration in the pewter vase that stood\n upon the mantel.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers got to his feet, strode to the door, opened it and\n looked out.\n\n\n Moonlight tesselated the street in black and silver, etching the\n chimneys and trees against a silvered sky.\n\n\n But the house directly across the street was not the same. It was\n strangely lop-sided, its dimensions out of proportion, like a\n house that suddenly had gone mad.\n\n\n He stared at it in amazement, trying to determine what was wrong\n with it. He recalled how it had always stood, foursquare, a solid\n piece of mid-Victorian architecture.\n\n\n Then, before his eyes, the house righted itself again. Slowly it\n drew together, ironed out its queer angles, readjusted its\n dimensions, became once again the stodgy house he knew it had\n to be.\n\n\n With a sigh of relief, Mr. Chambers turned back into the hall.\n\n\n But before he closed the door, he looked again. The house was\n lop-sided ... as bad, perhaps worse than before!\n\n\n Gulping in fright, Mr. Chambers slammed the door shut, locked it\n and double bolted it. Then he went to his bedroom and took two\n sleeping powders.\n\n\n His dreams that night were the same as on the night before. Again\n there was the islet in mid-ocean. Again he was alone upon it.\n Again the squirming hydrophinnae were eating his foothold piece\n by piece.\n\n\n He awoke, body drenched with perspiration. Vague light of early\n dawn filtered through the window. The clock on the bedside table\n showed 7:30. For a long time he lay there motionless.\n\n\n Again the fantastic happenings of the night before came back to\n haunt him and as he lay there, staring at the windows, he\n remembered them, one by one. But his mind, still fogged by sleep\n and astonishment, took the happenings in its stride, mulled over\n them, lost the keen edge of fantastic terror that lurked around\n them.\n\n\n The light through the windows slowly grew brighter. Mr. Chambers\n slid out of bed, slowly crossed to the window, the cold of the\n floor biting into his bare feet. He forced himself to look out.\n\n\n There was nothing outside the window. No shadows. As if there\n might be a fog. But no fog, however, thick, could hide the apple\n tree that grew close against the house.\n\n\n But the tree was there ... shadowy, indistinct in the gray, with\n a few withered apples still clinging to its boughs, a few\n shriveled leaves reluctant to leave the parent branch.\n\n\n The tree was there now. But it hadn't been when he first had\n looked. Mr. Chambers was sure of that.\nAnd now he saw the faint outlines of his neighbor's house ... but\n those outlines were all wrong. They didn't jibe and fit together ...\n they were out of plumb. As if some giant hand had grasped the house\n and wrenched it out of true. Like the house he had seen across the\n street the night before, the house that had painfully righted itself\n when he thought of how it should look.\n\n\n Perhaps if he thought of how his neighbor's house should look, it\n too might right itself. But Mr. Chambers was very weary. Too\n weary to think about the house.\n\n\n He turned from the window and dressed slowly. In the living room\n he slumped into his chair, put his feet on the old cracked\n ottoman. For a long time he sat, trying to think.\n\n\n And then, abruptly, something like an electric shock ran through\n him. Rigid, he sat there, limp inside at the thought. Minutes\n later he arose and almost ran across the room to the old mahogany\n bookcase that stood against the wall.\n\n\n There were many volumes in the case: his beloved classics on the\n first shelf, his many scientific works on the lower shelves. The\n second shelf contained but one book. And it was around this book\n that Mr. Chambers' entire life was centered.\n\n\n Twenty years ago he had written it and foolishly attempted to teach\n its philosophy to a class of undergraduates. The newspapers, he\n remembered, had made a great deal of it at the time. Tongues had\n been set to wagging. Narrow-minded townsfolk, failing to understand\n either his philosophy or his aim, but seeing in him another exponent\n of some anti-rational cult, had forced his expulsion from the\n school.\n\n\n It was a simple book, really, dismissed by most authorities as\n merely the vagaries of an over-zealous mind.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers took it down now, opened its cover and began\n thumbing slowly through the pages. For a moment the memory of\n happier days swept over him.\n\n\n Then his eyes focused on the paragraph, a paragraph written so\n long ago the very words seemed strange and unreal:\nMan himself, by the power of mass suggestion, holds the physical\n fate of this earth ... yes, even the universe. Billions of minds\n seeing trees as trees, houses as houses, streets as streets ...\n and not as something else. Minds that see things as they are and\n have kept things as they were.... Destroy those minds and the\n entire foundation of matter, robbed of its regenerative power,\n will crumple and slip away like a column of sand....\nHis eyes followed down the page:\nYet this would have nothing to do with matter itself ... but\n only with matter's form. For while the mind of man through long\n ages may have moulded an imagery of that space in which he lives,\n mind would have little conceivable influence upon the existence\n of that matter. What exists in our known universe shall exist\n always and can never be destroyed, only altered or transformed.\nBut in modern astrophysics and mathematics we gain an insight\n into the possibility ... yes probability ... that there are other\n dimensions, other brackets of time and space impinging on the one\n we occupy.\nIf a pin is thrust into a shadow, would that shadow have any\n knowledge of the pin? It would not, for in this case the shadow\n is two dimensional, the pin three dimensional. Yet both occupy\n the same space.\nGranting then that the power of men's minds alone holds this\n universe, or at least this world in its present form, may we not\n go farther and envision other minds in some other plane watching\n us, waiting, waiting craftily for the time they can take over the\n domination of matter? Such a concept is not impossible. It is a\n natural conclusion if we accept the double hypothesis: that mind\n does control the formation of all matter; and that other worlds\n lie in juxtaposition with ours.\nPerhaps we shall come upon a day, far distant, when our plane,\n our world will dissolve beneath our feet and before our eyes as\n some stronger intelligence reaches out from the dimensional\n shadows of the very space we live in and wrests from us the\n matter which we know to be our own.\nHe stood astounded beside the bookcase, his eyes staring unseeing\n into the fire upon the hearth.\nHe\nhad written that. And because of those words he had been\n called a heretic, had been compelled to resign his position at\n the university, had been forced into this hermit life.\n\n\n A tumultuous idea hammered at him. Men had died by the millions\n all over the world. Where there had been thousands of minds there\n now were one or two. A feeble force to hold the form of matter\n intact.\nThe plague had swept Europe and Asia almost clean of life, had\n blighted Africa, had reached South America ... might even have\n come to the United States. He remembered the whispers he had\n heard, the words of the men at the drugstore corner, the\n buildings disappearing. Something scientists could not explain.\n But those were merely scraps of information. He did not know the\n whole story ... he could not know. He never listened to the\n radio, never read a newspaper.\n\n\n But abruptly the whole thing fitted together in his brain like\n the missing piece of a puzzle into its slot. The significance of\n it all gripped him with damning clarity.\n\n\n There were not sufficient minds in existence to retain the\n material world in its mundane form. Some other power from another\n dimension was fighting to supersede man's control\nand take his\n universe into its own plane!\nAbruptly Mr. Chambers closed the book, shoved it back in the case\n and picked up his hat and coat.\n\n\n He had to know more. He had to find someone who could tell him.\n\n\n He moved through the hall to the door, emerged into the street.\n On the walk he looked skyward, trying to make out the sun. But\n there wasn't any sun ... only an all pervading grayness that\n shrouded everything ... not a gray fog, but a gray emptiness that\n seemed devoid of life, of any movement.\n\n\n The walk led to his gate and there it ended, but as he moved\n forward the sidewalk came into view and the house ahead loomed\n out of the gray, but a house with differences.\n\n\n He moved forward rapidly. Visibility extended only a few feet and as\n he approached them the houses materialized like two dimensional\n pictures without perspective, like twisted cardboard soldiers lining\n up for review on a misty morning.\n\n\n Once he stopped and looked back and saw that the grayness had\n closed in behind him. The houses were wiped out, the sidewalk\n faded into nothing.\n\n\n He shouted, hoping to attract attention. But his voice frightened\n him. It seemed to ricochet up and into the higher levels of the\n sky, as if a giant door had been opened to a mighty room high\n above him.\n\n\n He went on until he came to the corner of Lexington. There, on\n the curb, he stopped and stared. The gray wall was thicker there\n but he did not realize how close it was until he glanced down at\n his feet and saw there was nothing, nothing at all beyond the\n curbstone. No dull gleam of wet asphalt, no sign of a street. It\n was as if all eternity ended here at the corner of Maple and\n Lexington.\n\n\n With a wild cry, Mr. Chambers turned and ran. Back down the\n street he raced, coat streaming after him in the wind, bowler hat\n bouncing on his head.\n\n\n Panting, he reached the gate and stumbled up the walk, thankful\n that it still was there.\n\n\n On the stoop he stood for a moment, breathing hard. He glanced\n back over his shoulder and a queer feeling of inner numbness\n seemed to well over him. At that moment the gray nothingness\n appeared to thin ... the enveloping curtain fell away, and he\n saw....\n\n\n Vague and indistinct, yet cast in stereoscopic outline, a\n gigantic city was lined against the darkling sky. It was a city\n fantastic with cubed domes, spires, and aerial bridges and flying\n buttresses. Tunnel-like streets, flanked on either side by\n shining metallic ramps and runways, stretched endlessly to the\n vanishing point. Great shafts of multicolored light probed huge\n streamers and ellipses above the higher levels.\n\n\n And beyond, like a final backdrop, rose a titanic wall. It was\n from that wall ... from its crenelated parapets and battlements\n that Mr. Chambers felt the eyes peering at him.\n\n\n Thousands of eyes glaring down with but a single purpose.\n\n\n And as he continued to look, something else seemed to take form\n above that wall. A design this time, that swirled and writhed in\n the ribbons of radiance and rapidly coalesced into strange\n geometric features, without definite line or detail. A colossal\n face, a face of indescribable power and evil, it was, staring\n down with malevolent composure.\nThen the city and the face slid out of focus; the vision faded\n like a darkened magic-lantern, and the grayness moved in again.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers pushed open the door of his house. But he did not\n lock it. There was no need of locks ... not any more.\n\n\n A few coals of fire still smouldered in the grate and going\n there, he stirred them up, raked away the ash, piled on more\n wood. The flames leaped merrily, dancing in the chimney's throat.\n\n\n Without removing his hat and coat, he sank exhausted in his\n favorite chair, closed his eyes then opened them again.\n\n\n He sighed with relief as he saw the room was unchanged.\n Everything in its accustomed place: the clock, the lamp, the\n elephant ash tray, the marine print on the wall.\n\n\n Everything was as it should be. The clock measured the silence\n with its measured ticking; it chimed abruptly and the vase sent\n up its usual sympathetic vibration.\n\n\n This was his room, he thought. Rooms acquire the personality of\n the person who lives in them, become a part of him. This was his\n world, his own private world, and as such it would be the last to\n go.\n\n\n But how long could he ... his brain ... maintain its existence?\n\n\n Mr. Chambers stared at the marine print and for a moment a little\n breath of reassurance returned to him.\nThey\ncouldn't take this\n away. The rest of the world might dissolve because there was\n insufficient power of thought to retain its outward form.\n\n\n But this room was his. He alone had furnished it. He alone, since\n he had first planned the house's building, had lived here.\n\n\n This room would stay. It must stay on ... it must....\n\n\n He rose from his chair and walked across the room to the book\n case, stood staring at the second shelf with its single volume.\n His eyes shifted to the top shelf and swift terror gripped him.\n\n\n For all the books weren't there. A lot of books weren't there!\n Only the most beloved, the most familiar ones.\n\n\n So the change already had started here! The unfamiliar books were\n gone and that fitted in the pattern ... for it would be the least\n familiar things that would go first.\n\n\n Wheeling, he stared across the room. Was it his imagination, or\n did the lamp on the table blur and begin to fade away?\n\n\n But as he stared at it, it became clear again, a solid,\n substantial thing.\n\n\n For a moment real fear reached out and touched him with chilly\n fingers. For he knew that this room no longer was proof against\n the thing that had happened out there on the street.\n\n\n Or had it really happened? Might not all this exist within his\n own mind? Might not the street be as it always was, with laughing\n children and barking dogs? Might not the Red Star confectionery\n still exist, splashing the street with the red of its neon sign?\n\n\n Could it be that he was going mad? He had heard whispers when he\n had passed, whispers the gossiping housewives had not intended\n him to hear. And he had heard the shouting of boys when he walked\n by. They thought him mad. Could he be really mad?\n\n\n But he knew he wasn't mad. He knew that he perhaps was the sanest\n of all men who walked the earth. For he, and he alone, had\n foreseen this very thing. And the others had scoffed at him for\n it.\n\n\n Somewhere else the children might be playing on a street. But it\n would be a different street. And the children undoubtedly would\n be different too.\n\n\n For the matter of which the street and everything upon it had\n been formed would now be cast in a different mold, stolen by\n different minds in a different dimension.\nPerhaps we shall come upon a day, far distant, when our plane,\n our world will dissolve beneath our feet and before our eyes as\n some stronger intelligence reaches out from the dimensional\n shadows of the very space we live in and wrests from us the\n matter which we know to be our own.\nBut there had been no need to wait for that distant day. Scant\n years after he had written those prophetic words the thing was\n happening. Man had played unwittingly into the hands of those\n other minds in the other dimension. Man had waged a war and war\n had bred a pestilence. And the whole vast cycle of events was but\n a detail of a cyclopean plan.\n\n\n He could see it all now. By an insidious mass hypnosis minions from\n that other dimension ... or was it one supreme intelligence ... had\n deliberately sown the seeds of dissension. The reduction of the\n world's mental power had been carefully planned with diabolic\n premeditation.\n\n\n On impulse he suddenly turned, crossed the room and opened the\n connecting door to the bedroom. He stopped on the threshold and a\n sob forced its way to his lips.\n\n\n There was no bedroom. Where his stolid four poster and dresser\n had been there was greyish nothingness.\n\n\n Like an automaton he turned again and paced to the hall door.\n Here, too, he found what he had expected. There was no hall, no\n familiar hat rack and umbrella stand.\n\n\n Nothing....\n\n\n Weakly Mr. Chambers moved back to his chair in the corner.\n\n\n \"So here I am,\" he said, half aloud.\n\n\n So there he was. Embattled in the last corner of the world that\n was left to him.\n\n\n Perhaps there were other men like him, he thought. Men who stood\n at bay against the emptiness that marked the transition from one\n dimension to another. Men who had lived close to the things they\n loved, who had endowed those things with such substantial form by\n power of mind alone that they now stood out alone against the\n power of some greater mind.\n\n\n The street was gone. The rest of his house was gone. This room\n still retained its form.\n\n\n This room, he knew, would stay the longest. And when the rest of\n the room was gone, this corner with his favorite chair would\n remain. For this was the spot where he had lived for twenty\n years. The bedroom was for sleeping, the kitchen for eating. This\n room was for living. This was his last stand.\n\n\n These were the walls and floors and prints and lamps that had\n soaked up his will to make them walls and prints and lamps.\n\n\n He looked out the window into a blank world. His neighbors'\n houses already were gone. They had not lived with them as he had\n lived with this room. Their interests had been divided, thinly\n spread; their thoughts had not been concentrated as his upon an\n area four blocks by three, or a room fourteen by twelve.\nStaring through the window, he saw it again. The same vision he\n had looked upon before and yet different in an indescribable way.\n There was the city illumined in the sky. There were the\n elliptical towers and turrets, the cube-shaped domes and\n battlements. He could see with stereoscopic clarity the aerial\n bridges, the gleaming avenues sweeping on into infinitude. The\n vision was nearer this time, but the depth and proportion had\n changed ... as if he were viewing it from two concentric angles\n at the same time.\n\n\n And the face ... the face of magnitude ... of power of cosmic\n craft and evil....\n\n\n Mr. Chambers turned his eyes back into the room. The clock was\n ticking slowly, steadily. The greyness was stealing into the\n room.\n\n\n The table and radio were the first to go. They simply faded away\n and with them went one corner of the room.\n\n\n And then the elephant ash tray.\n\n\n \"Oh, well,\" said Mr. Chambers, \"I never did like that very well.\"\n\n\n Now as he sat there it didn't seem queer to be without the table\n or the radio. It was as if it were something quite normal.\n Something one could expect to happen.\n\n\n Perhaps, if he thought hard enough, he could bring them back.\n\n\n But, after all, what was the use? One man, alone, could not stand\n off the irresistible march of nothingness. One man, all alone,\n simply couldn't do it.\n\n\n He wondered what the elephant ash tray looked like in that other\n dimension. It certainly wouldn't be an elephant ash tray nor\n would the radio be a radio, for perhaps they didn't have ash\n trays or radios or elephants in the invading dimension.\n\n\n He wondered, as a matter of fact, what he himself would look like\n when he finally slipped into the unknown. For he was matter, too,\n just as the ash tray and radio were matter.\n\n\n He wondered if he would retain his individuality ... if he still\n would be a person. Or would he merely be a thing?\n\n\n There was one answer to all of that. He simply didn't know.\n\n\n Nothingness advanced upon him, ate its way across the room,\n stalking him as he sat in the chair underneath the lamp. And he\n waited for it.\n\n\n The room, or what was left of it, plunged into dreadful silence.\n\n\n Mr. Chambers started. The clock had stopped. Funny ... the first\n time in twenty years.\n\n\n He leaped from his chair and then sat down again.\n\n\n The clock hadn't stopped.\n\n\n It wasn't there.\n\n\n There was a tingling sensation in his feet.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which of the following words best describes Mr. Jonathan Chambers?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_1", "options": ["Habitual", "Mad", "Mean", "Shy"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Mr. Chambers fired from his university?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_2", "options": ["He was too unsociable.", "Dr. Harcourt did not like him.", "He exposed students to a philosophy.", "He wrote a book."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Dr. Harcourt likely feel about Mr. Chambers' book now?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_3", "options": ["He does not like it.", "He likes it, but does not believe it could be true.", "He ridicules it.", "He has decided that it could be true."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do Mr. Chambers' dreams connect with the events of the story?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_4", "options": ["The island is his job at the university, and the snakes are the people who fired him.", "The island is his solitude, and the snakes are people who want to talk to him.", "The dreams are unrelated.", "The island is his room, and the snakes are the other minds."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does Mr. Chambers' favorite picture symbolize the events in the story?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_5", "options": ["Mr. Chambers is the ship in the foreground and the other universe is the vague outline of the larger ship.", "The picture does not symbolize any events in the story.", "Mr. Chambers is the ship in the foreground, and his old life is the vague outline of the larger ship.", "Mr. Chambers is the ship in the foreground, and other people are the vague outline of the larger ship."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How is the other universe taking over Mr. Chambers' universe?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_6", "options": ["Thousands of minds from another universe are working together.", "All of these factors contribute.", "War and plague wiped out billions of people.", "One powerful mind set its sights and machinations on Mr. Chambers' universe."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Mr. Chambers' room last so much longer than other parts of the neighborhood?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_7", "options": ["He is actually only imagining this.", "His mind is unusually strong.", "He has spend so much time and attention in this room.", "The other minds are worried about him."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why doesn't Mr. Chambers talk to anyone?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_8", "options": ["He wants to, but other people don't want to talk to him.", "He is shy.", "He gave up on relationships after losing his job.", "He does not like people."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why doesn't Mr. Chambers' read or listen to the news?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_9", "options": ["He does not like the news.", "He does not like to be tricked by radio dramas.", "He does read and listen to the news.", "He gave up on current events after losing his job."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Mr. Chambers' first indication that something is wrong?", "question_unique_id": "22218_WHLS3NE4_10", "options": ["He arrives home early.", "He overhears upsetting news about the Empire State Building.", "He forgot a cigar.", "He is having bad dreams."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/2/1/22218//22218-h//22218-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "22346", "set_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Exile", "year": 1958, "author": "Fyfe, H. B. (Horace Bowne)", "topic": "PS; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "[101]\nEXILE\nBY H. B. FYFE\nILLUSTRATED BY EMSH\n\n\n The Dome of Eyes made it almost impossible for\n Terrans to reach the world of Tepokt. For those\n who did land there, there was no returning—only\n the bitterness of respect—and justice!\n\n\n The Tepoktan student, whose\n blue robe in George Kinton's\n opinion clashed with the dull\n purple of his scales, twiddled a\n three-clawed hand for attention.\n Kinton nodded to him from his\n place on the dais before the\n group.\n\n\n \"Then you can give us no precise\n count of the stars in the\n galaxy, George?\"\n\n\n Kinton smiled wrily, and ran\n a wrinkled hand through his\n graying hair. In the clicking Tepoktan\n speech, his name came\n out more like \"Chortch.\"\n\n\n Questions like this had been\n put to him often during the ten\n years since his rocket had\n hurtled through the meteorite\n belt and down to the surface of\n Tepokt, leaving him the only survivor.\n Barred off as they were\n from venturing into space, the\n highly civilized Tepoktans constantly\n displayed the curiosity of\n dreamers in matters related to\n the universe. Because of the veil\n of meteorites and satellite fragments\n whirling about their\n planet, their astronomers had acquired\n torturous skills but only\n scraps of real knowledge.\n\n\n \"As I believe I mentioned in\n some of my recorded lectures,\"\n Kinton answered in their language,\n [103]\n \"the number is actually\n as vast as it seems to those of\n you peering through the Dome\n of Eyes. The scientists of my\n race have not yet encountered\n any beings capable of estimating\n the total.\"\n\n\n He leaned back and scanned\n the faces of his interviewers,\n faces that would have been oddly\n humanoid were it not for the\n elongated snouts and pointed,\n sharp-toothed jaws. The average\n Tepoktan was slightly under\n Kinton's height of five-feet-ten,\n with a long, supple trunk. Under\n the robes their scholars affected,\n the shortness of their two bowed\n legs was not obvious; but the\n sight of the short, thick arms\n carried high before their chests\n still left Kinton with a feeling\n of misproportion.\n\n\n He should be used to it after\n ten years, he thought, but even\n the reds or purples of the scales\n or the big teeth seemed more\n natural.\n\n\n \"I sympathize with your curiosity,\"\n he added. \"It is a marvel\n that your scientists have\n managed to measure the distances\n of so many stars.\"\n\n\n He could tell that they were\n pleased by his admiration, and\n wondered yet again why any\n little show of approval by him\n was so eagerly received. Even\n though he was the first stellar\n visitor in their recorded history,\n Kinton remained conscious of the\n fact that in many fields he was\n unable to offer the Tepoktans any\n new ideas. In one or two ways,\n he believed, no Terran could\n teach their experts anything.\n\n\n \"Then will you tell us, George,\n more about the problems of your\n first space explorers?\" came another\n question.\nBefore Kinton had formed his\n answer, the golden curtains at\n the rear of the austerely simple\n chamber parted. Klaft, the Tepoktan\n serving the current year\n as Kinton's chief aide, hurried\n toward the dais. The twenty-odd\n members of the group fell silent\n on their polished stone benches,\n turning their pointed visages to\n follow Klaft's progress.\n\n\n The aide reached Kinton and\n bent to hiss and cluck into the\n latter's ear in what he presumably\n considered an undertone.\n The Terran laboriously spelled\n out the message inscribed on the\n limp, satiny paper held before his\n eyes. Then he rose and took one\n step toward the waiting group.\n\n\n \"I regret I shall have to conclude\n this discussion,\" he announced.\n \"I am informed that\n another ship from space has\n reached the surface of Tepokt.\n My presence is requested in case\n the crew are of my own planet.\"\n\n\n [104]\n Klaft excitedly skipped down\n to lead the way up the aisle, but\n Kinton hesitated. Those in the\n audience were scholars or officials\n to whom attendance at one\n of Kinton's limited number of\n personal lectures was awarded as\n an honor.\n\n\n They would hardly learn anything\n from him directly that was\n not available in recordings made\n over the course of years. The\n Tepoktan scientists, historians,\n and philosophers had respectfully\n but eagerly gathered every\n crumb of information Kinton\n knowingly had to offer—and\n some he thought he had forgotten.\n Still ... he sensed the disappointment\n at his announcement.\n\n\n \"I shall arrange for you to\n await my return here in town,\"\n Kinton said, and there were murmurs\n of pleasure.\n\n\n Later, aboard the jet helicopter\n that was basically like\n those Kinton remembered using\n on Terra twenty light years\n away, he shook his head at\n Klaft's respectful protest.\n\n\n \"But George! It was enough\n that they were present when you\n received the news. They can talk\n about that the rest of their lives!\n You must not waste your\n strength on these people who\n come out of curiosity.\"\n\n\n Kinton smiled at his aide's\n earnest concern. Then he turned\n to look out the window as he recalled\n the shadow that underlay\n such remonstrances. He estimated\n that he was about forty-eight\n now, as nearly as he could tell\n from the somewhat longer revolutions\n of Tepokt. The time\n would come when he would age\n and die. Whose wishes would\n then prevail?\n\n\n Maybe he was wrong, he\n thought. Maybe he shouldn't\n stand in the way of their biologists\n and surgeons. But he'd\n rather be buried, even if that\n left them with only what he\n could tell them about the human\n body.\nTo help himself forget the\n rather preoccupied manner in\n which some of the Tepoktan scientists\n occasionally eyed him, he\n peered down at the big dam of\n the hydro-electric project being\n completed to Kinton's design.\n Power from this would soon\n light the town built to house the\n staff of scientists, students, and\n workers assigned to the institute\n organized about the person\n of Kinton.\n\n\n Now, there was an example of\n their willingness to repay him\n for whatever help he had been,\n he reflected. They hadn't needed\n that for themselves.\n\n\n In some ways, compared to\n [105]\n those of Terra, the industries of\n Tepokt were underdeveloped. In\n the first place, the population\n was smaller and had different\n standards of luxury. In the second,\n a certain lack of drive resulted\n from the inability to\n break out into interplanetary\n space. Kinton had been inexplicably\n lucky to have reached the\n surface even in a battered hulk.\n The shell of meteorites was at\n least a hundred miles thick and\n constantly shifting.\n\n\n \"We do not know if they have\n always been meteorites,\" the\n Tepoktans had told Kinton, \"or\n whether part of them come from\n a destroyed satellite; but our observers\n have proved mathematically\n that no direct path through\n them may be predicted more than\n a very short while in advance.\"\n\n\n Kinton turned away from the\n window as he caught the glint\n of Tepokt's sun upon the hull of\n the spaceship they had also built\n for him. Perhaps ... would it\n be fair to encourage the newcomer\n to attempt the barrier?\n\n\n For ten years, Kinton had\n failed to work up any strong desire\n to try it. The Tepoktans\n called the ever-shifting lights\n the Dome of Eyes, after a myth\n in which each tiny satellite\n bright enough to be visible was\n supposed to watch over a single\n individual on the surface. Like\n their brothers on Terra, the native\n astronomers could trace\n their science back to a form of\n astrology; and Kinton often told\n them jokingly that he felt no\n urge to risk a physical encounter\n with his own personal Eye.\nThe helicopter started to descend,\n and Kinton remembered\n that the city named in his message\n was only about twenty miles\n from his home. The brief twilight\n of Tepokt was passing by\n the time he set foot on the landing\n field, and he paused to look\n up.\n\n\n The brighter stars visible from\n this part of the planet twinkled\n back at him, and he knew that\n each was being scrutinized by\n some amateur or professional\n astronomer. Before an hour had\n elapsed, most of them would be\n obscured by the tiny moonlets,\n some of which could already be\n seen. These could easily be mistaken\n for stars or the other five\n planets of the system, but in a\n short while the tinier ones in\n groups would cause a celestial\n haze resembling a miniature\n Milky Way.\n\n\n Klaft, who had descended first,\n leaving the pilot to bring up the\n rear, noticed Kinton's pause.\n\n\n \"Glory glitters till it is known\n for a curse,\" he remarked, quoting\n a Tepoktan proverb often applied\n [106]\n by the disgruntled scientists\n to the Dome of Eyes.\n\n\n Kinton observed, however,\n that his aide also stared upward\n for a long moment. The Tepoktans\n loved speculating about the\n unsolvable. They had even founded\n clubs to argue whether two\n satellites had been destroyed or\n only one.\n\n\n Half a dozen officials hastened\n up to escort the party to the\n vehicle awaiting Kinton. Klaft\n succeeded in quieting the lesser\n members of the delegation so\n that Kinton was able to learn a\n few facts about the new arrival.\n The crash had been several hundred\n miles away, but someone\n had thought of the hospital in\n this city which was known to\n have a doctor rating as an expert\n in human physiology. The survivor—only\n one occupant of the\n wreck, alive or dead, had\n been discovered—had accordingly\n been flown here.\n\n\n With a clanging of bells, the\n little convoy of ground cars\n drew up in front of the hospital.\n A way was made through the\n chittering crowd around the\n entrance. Within a few minutes,\n Kinton found himself looking\n down at a pallet upon which lay\n another Terran.\n\n\n A man! he thought, then\n curled a lip wrily at the sudden,\n unexpected pang of disappointment.\n Well, he hadn't realized\n until then what he was really\n hoping for!\nThe spaceman had been\n cleaned up and bandaged by the\n native medicos. Kinton saw that\n his left thigh was probably\n broken. Other dressings suggested\n cracked ribs and lacerations\n on the head and shoulders. The\n man was dark-haired but pale of\n skin, with a jutting chin and a\n nose that had been flattened in\n some earlier mishap. The flaring\n set of his ears somehow emphasized\n an overall leanness. Even in\n sleep, his mouth was thin and\n hard.\n\n\n \"Thrown across the controls\n after his belt broke loose?\" Kinton\n guessed.\n\n\n \"I bow to your wisdom,\n George,\" said the plump Tepoktan\n doctor who appeared to be\n in charge.\n\n\n Kinton could not remember\n him, but everyone on the planet\n addressed the Terran by the\n sound they fondly thought to be\n his first name.\n\n\n \"This is Doctor Chuxolkhee,\"\n murmured Klaft.\n\n\n Kinton made the accepted gesture\n of greeting with one hand\n and said, \"You seem to have\n treated him very expertly.\"\n\n\n Chuxolkhee ruffled the scales\n around his neck with pleasure.\n\n\n [107]\n \"I have studied Terran physiology,\"\n he admitted complacently.\n \"From your records and\n drawings, of course, George, for\n I have not yet had the good fortune\n to visit you.\"\n\n\n \"We must arrange a visit\n soon,\" said Kinton. \"Klaft\n will—\"\n\n\n He broke off at the sound from\n the patient.\n\n\n \"A Terran!\" mumbled the injured\n man.\n\n\n He shook his head dazedly,\n tried to sit up, and subsided with\n a groan.\nWhy, he looked scared when\n he saw me\n, thought Kinton.\n\n\n \"You're all right now,\" he said\n soothingly. \"It's all over and\n you're in good hands. I gather\n there were no other survivors of\n the crash?\"\n\n\n The man stared curiously. Kinton\n realized that his own language\n sputtered clumsily from\n his lips after ten years. He tried\n again.\n\n\n \"My name is George Kinton.\n I don't blame you if I'm hard to\n understand. You see, I've been\n here ten years without ever having\n another Terran to speak to.\"\n\n\n The spaceman considered that\n for a few breaths, then seemed\n to relax.\n\n\n \"Al Birken,\" he introduced\n himself laconically. \"Ten years?\"\n\n\n \"A little over,\" confirmed Kinton.\n \"It's extremely unusual that\n anything gets through to the\n surface, let alone a spaceship.\n What happened to you?\"\nBirken's stare was suspicious.\n\n\n \"Then you ain't heard about\n the new colonies? Naw—you\n musta come here when all the\n planets were open.\"\n\n\n \"We had a small settlement on\n the second planet,\" Kinton told\n him. \"You mean there are new\n Terran colonies?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah. Jet-hoppers spreadin'\n all over the other five. None of\n the land-hungry poops figured a\n way to set down here, though, or\n they'd be creepin' around this\n planet too.\"\n\n\n \"How did you happen to do\n it? Run out of fuel?\"\n\n\n The other eyed him for a few\n seconds before dropping his\n gaze. Kinton was struck with\n sudden doubt. The outposts of\n civilization were followed by less\n desirable developments as a general\n rule—prisons, for instance.\n He resolved to be wary of the\n visitor.\n\n\n \"Ya might say I was explorin',\"\n Birken replied at last.\n \"That's why I come alone.\n Didn't want nobody else hurt if\n I didn't make it. Say, how bad\n am I banged up?\"\n\n\n Kinton realized guiltily that\n the man should be resting. He\n [108]\n had lost track of the moments\n he had wasted in talk while the\n others with him stood attentively\n about.\n\n\n He questioned the doctor briefly\n and relayed the information\n that Birken's leg was broken but\n that the other injuries were not\n serious.\n\n\n \"They'll fix you up,\" he assured\n the spaceman. \"They're\n quite good at it, even if the sight\n of one does make you think a\n little of an iguana. Rest up, now;\n and I'll come back again when\n you're feeling better.\"\n\n\n For the next three weeks, Kinton\n flew back and forth from his\n own town nearly every day. He\n felt that he should not neglect\n the few meetings which were the\n only way he could repay the Tepoktans\n for all they did for him.\n On the other hand, the chance\n to see and talk with one of his\n own kind drew him like a magnet\n to the hospital.\n\n\n The doctors operated upon\n Birken's leg, inserting a metal\n rod inside the bone by a method\n they had known before Kinton\n described it. The new arrival expected\n to be able to walk, with\n care, almost any day; although\n the pin would have to be removed\n after the bone had healed. Meanwhile,\n Birken seemed eager to\n learn all Kinton could tell him\n about the planet, Tepokt.\n\n\n About himself, he was remarkably\n reticent. Kinton worried\n about this.\n\n\n \"I think we should not expect\n too much of this Terran,\" he\n warned Klaft uneasily. \"You,\n too, have citizens who do not always\n obey, your laws, who sometimes\n ... that is—\"\n\n\n \"Who are born to die under\n the axe, as we say,\" interrupted\n Klaft, as if to ease the concern\n plain on Kinton's face. \"In other\n words, criminals. You suspect\n this Albirken is such a one,\n George?\"\n\n\n \"It is not impossible,\" admitted\n Kinton unhappily. \"He will\n tell me little about himself. It\n may be that he was caught in\n Tepokt's gravity while fleeing\n from justice.\"\n\n\n To himself, he wished he had\n not told Birken about the spaceship.\n He didn't think the man\n exactly believed his explanation\n of why there was no use taking\n off in it.\nYet he continued to spend as\n much time as he could visiting\n the other man. Then, as his helicopter\n landed at the city airport\n one gray dawn, the news reached\n him.\n\n\n \"The other Terran has gone,\"\n Klaft reported, turning from the\n breathless messenger as Kinton\n followed him from the machine.\n\n\n [109]\n \"Gone? Where did they take\n him?\"\n\n\n Klaft looked uneasy, embarrassed.\n Kinton repeated his question,\n wondering about the group\n of armed police on hand.\n\n\n \"In the night,\" Klaft hissed\n and clucked, \"when none would\n think to watch him, they tell me\n ... and quite rightly, I think—\"\n\n\n \"Get on with it, Klaft!\n Please!\"\n\n\n \"In the night, then, Albirken\n left the chamber in which he lay.\n He can walk some now, you\n know, because of Dr. Chuxolkhee's\n metal pin. He—he stole a\n ground car and is gone.\"\n\n\n \"He did?\" Kinton had an\n empty feeling in the pit of his\n stomach. \"Is it known where he\n went? I mean ... he has been\n curious to see some of Tepokt.\n Perhaps—\"\n\n\n He stopped, his own words\n braying in his ears. Klaft was\n clicking two claws together, a\n sign of emphatic disagreement.\n\n\n \"Albirken,\" he said, \"was soon\n followed by three police constables\n in another vehicle. They\n found him heading in the direction\n of our town.\"\n\n\n \"Why did he say he was traveling\n that way?\" asked Kinton,\n thinking to himself of the spaceship!\n Was the man crazy?\n\n\n \"He did not say,\" answered\n Klaft expressionlessly. \"Taking\n them by surprise, he killed two\n of the constables and injured\n the third before fleeing with one\n of their spears.\"\n\n\n \"\nWhat?\n\"\n\n\n Kinton felt his eyes bulging\n with dismay.\n\n\n \"Yes, for they carried only the\n short spears of their authority,\n not expecting to need fire weapons.\"\nKinton looked from him to the\n messenger, noticing for the first\n time that the latter was an under-officer\n of police. He shook his\n head distractedly. It appeared\n that his suspicions concerning\n Birken had been only too accurate.\n\n\n Why was it one like him who\n got through? he asked himself\n in silent anguish. After ten\n years. The Tepoktans had been\n thinking well of Terrans, but\n now—\n\n\n He did not worry about his\n own position. That was well\n enough established, whether or\n not he could again hold up his\n head before the purple-scaled\n people who had been so generous\n to him.\n\n\n Even if they had been aroused\n to a rage by the killing, Kinton\n told himself, he would not have\n been concerned about himself. He\n had reached a fairly ripe age for\n a spaceman. In fact, he had already\n [110]\n enjoyed a decade of borrowed\n time.\n\n\n But they were more civilized\n than that wanton murderer, he\n realized.\n\n\n He straightened up, forcing\n back his early-morning weariness.\n\n\n \"We must get into the air\n immediately,\" he told Klaft.\n \"Perhaps we may see him before\n he reaches—\"\n\n\n He broke off at the word\n \"spaceship\" but he noticed a reserved\n expression on Klaft's\n pointed face. His aide had probably\n reached a conclusion similar\n to his own.\n\n\n They climbed back into the\n cabin and Klaft gave brisk orders\n to the lean young pilot. A\n moment later, Kinton saw the\n ground outside drop away.\n\n\n Only upon turning around did\n he realize that two armed Tepoktans\n had materialized in time to\n follow Klaft inside.\n\n\n One was a constable but the\n other he recognized for an officer\n of some rank. Both wore slung\n across their chests weapons resembling\n long-barreled pistols\n with large, oddly indented butts\n to fit Tepoktan claws. The constable,\n in addition, carried a\n contraption with a quadruple\n tube for launching tiny rockets\n no thicker than Kinton's thumb.\n These, he knew, were loaded\n with an explosive worthy of respect\n on any planet he had heard\n of.\n\n\n To protect him, he wondered.\n Or to get Birken?\n\n\n The pilot headed the craft\n back toward Kinton's town in\n the brightening sky of early day.\n Long before the buildings of\n Kinton's institute came into\n view, they received a radio message\n about Birken.\n\n\n \"He has been seen on the road\n passing the dam,\" Klaft reported\n soberly after having been called\n to the pilot's compartment. \"He\n stopped to demand fuel from\n some maintenance workers, but\n they had been warned and fled.\"\n\n\n \"Couldn't they have seized\n him?\" demanded Kinton, his tone\n sharp with the worry he endeavored\n to control. \"He has that\n spear, I suppose; but he is only\n one and injured.\"\n\n\n Klaft hesitated.\n\n\n \"Well, couldn't they?\"\n\n\n The aide looked away, out one\n of the windows at some sun-dyed\n clouds ranging from pink\n to orange. He grimaced and\n clicked his showy teeth uncomfortably.\n\n\n \"Perhaps they thought you\n might be offended, George,\" he\n answered at last.\n\n\n Kinton settled back in the seat\n especially padded to fit the contours\n of his Terran body, and\n [111]\n stared silently at the partition\n behind the pilot.\n\n\n In other words, he thought, he\n was responsible for Birken, who\n was a Terran, one of his own\n kind. Maybe they really didn't\n want to risk hurting his feelings,\n but that was only part of it.\n They were leaving it up to him\n to handle what they considered\n his private affair.\n\n\n He wondered what to do. He\n had no actual faith in the idea\n that Birken was delirious, or acting\n under any influence but that\n of a criminally self-centered nature.\n\n\n \"I\nshouldn't\nhave told him\n about the ship!\" Kinton muttered,\n gnawing the knuckle of\n his left thumb. \"He's on the run,\n all right. Probably scared the\n colonial authorities will trail him\n right down through the Dome of\n Eyes. Wonder what he did?\"\n\n\n He caught himself and looked\n around to see if he had been overheard.\n Klaft and the police officers\n peered from their respective\n windows, in calculated withdrawal.\n Kinton, disturbed, tried\n to remember whether he had\n spoken in Terran or Tepoktan.\n\n\n Would Birken listen if he tried\n reasoning, he asked himself.\n Maybe if he showed the man how\n they had proved the unpredictability\n of openings through the\n shifting Dome of Eyes—\n\n\n An exclamation from the constable\n drew his attention. He\n rose, and room was made for him\n at the opposite window.\nIn the distance, beyond the\n town landing field they were now\n approaching, Kinton saw a halted\n ground car. Across the plain\n which was colored a yellowish\n tan by a short, grass-like growth,\n a lone figure plodded toward the\n upthrust bulk of the spaceship\n that had never flown.\n\n\n \"Never mind landing at the\n town!\" snapped Kinton. \"Go directly\n out to the ship!\"\n\n\n Klaft relayed the command to\n the pilot. The helicopter swept\n in a descending curve across the\n plain toward the gleaming hull.\n\n\n As they passed the man below,\n Birken looked up. He continued\n to limp along at a brisk\n pace with the aid of what looked\n like a short spear.\n\n\n \"Go down!\" Kinton ordered.\n\n\n The pilot landed about a hundred\n yards from the spaceship.\n By the time his passengers had\n alighted, however, Birken had\n drawn level with them, about\n fifty feet away.\n\n\n \"Birken!\" shouted Kinton.\n \"Where do you think you're going?\"\n\n\n Seeing that no one ran after\n him, Birken slowed his pace, but\n kept walking toward the ship.\n [112]\n He watched them over his shoulder.\n\n\n \"Sorry, Kinton,\" he shouted\n with no noticeable tone of regret.\n \"I figure I better travel on for\n my health.\"\n\n\n \"It's not so damn healthy up\n there!\" called Kinton. \"I told\n you how there's no clear path—\"\n\n\n \"Yeah, yeah, you told me. That\n don't mean I gotta believe it.\"\n\n\n \"Wait! Don't you think they\n tried sending unmanned rockets\n up? Every one was struck and\n exploded.\"\n\n\n Birken showed no more change\n of expression than if the other\n had commented on the weather.\n\n\n Kinton had stepped forward\n six or eight paces, irritated despite\n his anxiety at the way Birken\n persisted in drifting before\n him.\n\n\n Kinton couldn't just grab him—bad\n leg or not, he could probably\n break the older man in two.\n\n\n He glanced back at the Tepoktans\n beside the helicopter, Klaft,\n the pilot, the officer, the constable\n with the rocket weapon.\n\n\n They stood quietly, looking\n back at him.\n\n\n The call for help that had risen\n to his lips died there.\n\n\n \"Not\ntheir\nparty,\" he muttered.\n He turned again to Birken,\n who still retreated toward the\n ship. \"But he'll only get himself\n killed\nand\ndestroy the ship! Or\n if some miracle gets him\n through, that's worse! He's\n nothing to turn loose on a civilized\n colony again.\"\nA twinge of shame tugged\n down the corners of his mouth\n as he realized that keeping Birken\n here would also expose a\n highly cultured people to an unscrupulous\n criminal who had already\n committed murder the very\n first time he had been crossed.\n\n\n \"Birken!\" he shouted. \"For\n the last time! Do you want me\n to send them to drag you back\n here?\"\n\n\n Birken stopped at that. He regarded\n the motionless Tepoktans\n with a derisive sneer.\n\n\n \"They don't look too eager to\n me,\" he taunted.\n\n\n Kinton growled a Tepoktan expression\n the meaning of which\n he had deduced after hearing it\n used by the dam workers.\n\n\n He whirled to run toward the\n helicopter. Hardly had he taken\n two steps, however, when he saw\n startled changes in the carefully\n blank looks of his escort. The\n constable half raised his heavy\n weapon, and Klaft sprang forward\n with a hissing cry.\n\n\n By the time Kinton's aging\n muscles obeyed his impulse to\n sidestep, the spear had already\n hurtled past. It had missed him\n by an error of over six feet.\n\n\n [113]\n He felt his face flushing with\n sudden anger. Birken was running\n as best he could toward the\n spaceship, and had covered nearly\n half the distance.\n\n\n Kinton ran at the Tepoktans,\n brushing aside the concerned\n Klaft. He snatched the heavy\n weapon from the surprised constable.\n\n\n He turned and raised it to his\n chest. Because of the shortness\n of Tepoktan arms, the launcher\n was constructed so that the butt\n rested against the chest with the\n sighting loops before the eyes.\n The little rocket tubes were\n above head height, to prevent the\n handler's catching the blast.\n\n\n The circles of the sights\n weaved and danced about the\n running figure. Kinton realized\n to his surprise that the effort of\n seizing the weapon had him panting.\n Or was it the fright at having\n a spear thrown at him? He\n decided that Birken had not come\n close enough for that, and wondered\n if he was afraid of his\n own impending action.\n\n\n It wasn't fair, he complained\n to himself. The poor slob only\n had a spear, and a man couldn't\n blame him for wanting to get\n back to his own sort. He was\n limping ... hurt ... how could\n they expect him to realize—?\n\n\n Then, abruptly, his lips tightened\n to a thin line. The sights\n steadied on Birken as the latter\n approached the foot of the ladder\n leading to the entrance port\n of the spaceship.\n\n\n Kinton pressed the firing stud.\n\n\n Across the hundred-yard space\n streaked four flaring little projectiles.\n Kinton, without exactly\n seeing each, was aware of the\n general lines of flight diverging\n gradually to bracket the figure\n of Birken.\n\n\n One struck the ground beside\n the man just as he set one foot\n on the bottom rung of the ladder,\n and skittered away past one fin\n of the ship before exploding.\n Two others burst against the\n hull, scattering metal fragments,\n and another puffed on the upright\n of the ladder just above\n Birken's head.\nThe spaceman was blown back\n from the ladder. He balanced on\n his heels for a moment with outstretched\n fingers reaching toward\n the grips from which they\n had been torn. Then he crumpled\n into a limp huddle on the yellowing\n turf.\n\n\n Kinton sighed.\n\n\n The constable took the weapon\n from him, reloaded deftly, and\n proffered it again. When the\n Terran did not reach for it, the\n officer held out a clawed hand to\n receive it. He gestured silently,\n and the constable trotted across\n [114]\n the intervening ground to bend\n over Birken.\n\n\n \"He is dead,\" said Klaft when\n the constable straightened up\n with a curt wave.\n\n\n \"Will ... will you have someone\n see to him, please?\" Kinton\n requested, turning toward the\n helicopter.\n\n\n \"Yes, George,\" said Klaft.\n \"George...?\"\n\n\n \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"It would be very instructive—that\n is, I believe Dr. Chuxolkhee\n would like to—\"\n\n\n \"All right!\" yielded Kinton,\n surprised at the harshness of his\n own voice. \"Just tell him not to\n bring around any sketches of the\n various organs for a few\n months!\"\n\n\n He climbed into the helicopter\n and slumped into his seat. Presently,\n he was aware of Klaft edging\n into the seat across the aisle.\n He looked up.\n\n\n \"The police will stay until cars\n from town arrive. They are coming\n now,\" said his aide.\nKinton stared at his hands,\n wondering at the fact that they\n were not shaking. He felt dejected,\n empty, not like a man who\n had just been at a high pitch of\n excitement.\n\n\n \"Why did you not let him go,\n George?\"\n\n\n \"What? Why ... why ... he\n would have destroyed the ship\n you worked so hard to build.\n There is no safe path through\n the Dome of Eyes.\"\n\n\n \"No predictable path,\" Klaft\n corrected. \"But what then? We\n would have built you another\n ship, George, for it was you who\n showed us how.\"\n\n\n Kinton flexed his fingers\n slowly.\n\n\n \"He was just no good. You\n know the murder he did here;\n we can only guess what he did\n among my own ... among Terrans.\n Should he have a chance to\n go back and commit more\n crimes?\"\n\n\n \"I understand, George, the\n logic of it,\" said Klaft. \"I meant\n ... it is not my place to say this\n ... but you seem unhappy.\"\n\n\n \"Possibly,\" grunted Kinton\n wrily.\n\n\n \"We, too, have criminals,\" said\n the aide, as gently as was possible\n in his clicking language.\n \"We do not think it necessary\n to grieve for the pain they bring\n upon themselves.\"\n\n\n \"No, I suppose not,\" sighed\n Kinton. \"I ... it's just—\"\n\n\n He looked up at the pointed\n visage, at the strange eyes regarding\n him sympathetically\n from beneath the sloping, purple-scaled\n forehead.\n\n\n \"It's just that now I'm lonely\n ... again,\" he said.\nTranscriber's Note:\n\n This e-text was produced from\n Space Science Fiction\n February\n 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the\n U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Who did Kinton want to land on Tepokt?", "question_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1_1", "options": ["A woman", "Anyone", "A man", "Birken"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following are most true about how the Tepoktans regard Kinton?", "question_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1_2", "options": ["They are afraid of him.", "They treat him like one of their own.", "They treat him with respect.", "They treat him like an alien."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Kinton survive his crash onto Tepokt?", "question_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1_3", "options": ["He is a great pilot.", "He had an extra strong spaceship.", "He followed a specific path.", "He got lucky."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Kinton struggle with his choice about Al Birken's fate?", "question_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1_4", "options": ["He is lonely without another human around.", "He does not struggle with him choice.", "He thinks Al could possibly help him get off the Tepokt.", "He likes Al."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do the first two lines connect with the rest of the story?", "question_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1_5", "options": ["Birken feels the bitterness of respect and justice.", "The lines do not connect to the rest of the story.", "Kinton feels the bitterness of respect and justice.", "No more Terrans land on Tepokt."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What do the Tepoktan scientists want to do with Kinton after he dies?", "question_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1_6", "options": ["They want to bury him.", "We do not know what they want to do.", "They want to honor him with a grand funeral.", "They want to dissect his body."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How can the quoted Tepoktan proverb apply to the story?", "question_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1_7", "options": ["It does not apply to the story.", "It only applies to the Dome of Eyes.", "It can apply to Kinton's fame and loneliness.", "It can apply to Birken's choices."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are the Tepoktans so interested in space travel?", "question_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1_8", "options": ["They do not know anything about the stars.", "They want to leave their planet.", "They are interested in what they cannot do.", "They are not interested in space travel."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have most likely happened if Kinton had let Birken take the spaceship?", "question_unique_id": "22346_DOS3P3V1_9", "options": ["Klaft would have shot it down with a rocket.", "Birken would have decided to stay with Kinton.", "Birken would have escaped.", "Birken would have crashed into the Dome of Eyes."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/3/4/22346//22346-h//22346-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22462", "set_unique_id": "22462_BUA2LH2S", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Slingshot", "year": 1958, "author": "Lande, Irving W.", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; PS", "article": "SLINGSHOT\nBY\n\n IRVING W. LANDE\nIllustrated by Emsh\nThe slingshot\n was, I believe, one of the few\n weapons of history that wasn't used in the last war.\n That doesn't mean it won't be used in the next!\n\"Got a bogey at three o'clock high.\n Range about six hundred miles.\"\n Johnson spoke casually, but his voice\n in the intercom was thin with tension.\n\n\n Captain Paul Coulter, commanding\n Space Fighter 308, 58th Squadron,\n 33rd Fighter Wing, glanced up out\n of his canopy in the direction indicated,\n and smiled to himself at the\n instinctive reaction. Nothing there\n but the familiar starry backdrop, the\n moon far down to the left. If the\n light wasn't right, a ship might be\n invisible at half a mile. He squeezed\n the throttle mike button. \"Any IFF?\"\n\n\n \"No IFF.\"\n\n\n \"O.K., let me know as soon as you\n have his course.\" Coulter squashed\n out his cigar and began his cockpit\n check, grinning without humor as he\n noticed that his breathing had deepened\n and his palms were moist on\n the controls. He looked down to\n make sure his radio was snug in its\n pocket on his leg; checked the thigh\n harness of his emergency rocket,\n wrapped in its thick belly pad; checked\n the paired tanks of oxygen behind\n him, hanging level from his shoulders\n into their niche in the \"cradle.\"\n He flipped his helmet closed, locked\n it, and opened it again. He tossed\n a sardonic salute at the photograph\n of a young lady who graced the side\n of the cockpit. \"Wish us luck, sugar.\"\n He pressed the mike button again.\n\n\n \"You got anything yet, Johnny?\"\n\n\n \"He's going our way, Paul. Have\n it exact in a minute.\"\n\n\n Coulter scanned the full arch of\n sky visible through the curving panels\n of the dome, thinking the turgid\n thoughts that always came when action\n was near. His chest was full of\n the familiar weakness—not fear exactly,\n but a tight, helpless feeling\n that grew and grew with the waiting.\n\n\n His eyes and hands were busy in\n the familiar procedure, readying the\n ship for combat, checking and re-checking\n the details that could mean\n life and death, but his mind watched\n disembodied, yearning back to earth.\n\n\n Sylvia always came back first. Inviting\n smile and outstretched hands.\n Nyloned knees, pink sweater, and\n that clinging, clinging white silk\n skirt. A whirling montage of laughing,\n challenging eyes and tossing sky-black\n hair and soft arms tightening\n around his neck.\n\n\n Then Jean, cool and self-possessed\n and slightly disapproving,\n with warmth and humor peeping\n through from underneath when she\n smiled. A lazy, crinkly kind of smile,\n like Christmas lights going on one\n by one. He wished he'd acted more\n grown up that night they watched\n the rain dance at the pueblo. For the\n hundredth time, he went over what\n he remembered of their last date,\n seeing the gleam of her shoulder, and\n the angry disappointment in her eyes;\n hearing again his awkward apologies.\n She was a nice kid. Silently his mouth\n formed the words. \"You're a nice\n kid.\"\nI think she loves me. She was just\n mad because I got drunk.\nThe tension of approaching combat\n suddenly blended with the memory,\n welling up into a rush of tenderness\n and affection. He whispered her\n name, and suddenly he knew that if\n he got back he was going to ask her\n to marry him.\n\n\n He thought of his father, rocking\n on the porch of the Pennsylvania\n farm, pipe in his mouth, the weathered\n old face serene, as he puffed and\n listened to the radio beside him. He\n wished he'd written him last night,\n instead of joining the usual beer and\n bull session in the wardroom. He\n wished—. He wished.\n\n\n \"I've got him, Paul. He's got two\n point seven miles of RV on us. Take\n thirty degrees high on two point one\n o'clock for course to IP.\"\nAutomatically he turned the control\n wheel to the right and eased it\n back. The gyros recorded the turn to\n course.\n\n\n \"Hold 4 G's for one six five seconds,\n then coast two minutes for initial\n point five hundred miles on his\n tail.\"\n\n\n \"Right, Johnny. One sixty-five,\n then two minutes.\" He set the timer,\n advanced the throttle to 4 G's, and\n stepped back an inch as the acceleration\n took him snugly into the cradle.\n The Return-To-Station-Fuel and Relative-Velocity-To-Station\n gauges did\n their usual double takes on a change\n of course, as the ship computer recorded\n the new information. He\n liked those two gauges—the two old\n ladies.\n\n\n Mrs. RSF kept track of how much\n more fuel they had than they needed\n to get home. When they were moving\n away from station, she dropped\n in alarmed little jumps, but when\n they were headed home, she inched\n along in serene contentment, or if\n they were coasting, sneaked triumphantly\n back up the dial.\n\n\n Mrs. RVS started to get jittery at\n about ten mps away from home, and\n above fifteen, she was trembling\n steadily. He didn't blame the old\n ladies for worrying. With one hour\n of fuel at 5 G's, you didn't fire a\n single squirt unless there was a good\n reason for it. Most of their time on\n a mission was spent free wheeling,\n in the anxiety-laden boredom that\n fighting men have always known.\nWish the Red was coming in across\n our course.\nIt would have taken less\n fuel, and the chase wouldn't have\n taken them so far out. But then\n they'd probably have been spotted,\n and lost the precious element of surprise.\n\n\n He blessed the advantage of better\n radar. In this crazy \"war,\" so like\n the dogfights of the first world war,\n the better than two hundred mile\n edge of American radar was more\n often than not the margin of victory.\n The American crews were a little\n sharper, a little better trained, but\n with their stripped down ships, and\n midget crewmen, with no personal\n safety equipment, the Reds could\n accelerate longer and faster, and go\n farther out. You had to get the jump\n on them, or it was just too bad.\n\n\n The second hand hit forty-five in\n its third cycle, and he stood loose in\n the cradle as the power died.\nSixty-two combat missions but the\n government says there's no war.\nHis\n mind wandered back over eight years\n in the service. Intelligence tests. Physical\n tests. Psychological tests. Six\n months of emotional adjustment in\n the screep. Primary training. Basic\n and advanced training. The pride and\n excitement of being chosen for space\n fighters. By the time he graduated,\n the United States and Russia each had\n several satellite stations operating, but\n in 1979, the United States had won\n the race for a permanent station on\n the Moon. What a grind it had been,\n bringing in the supplies.\n\n\n A year later the Moon station had\n \"blown up.\" No warning. No survivors.\n Just a brand-new medium-sized\n crater. And six months later,\n the new station, almost completed,\n went up again. The diplomats had\n buzzed like hornets, with accusations\n and threats, but nothing could be\n proven—there\nwere\nbombs stored at\n the station. The implication was clear\n enough. There wasn't going to be\n any Moon station until one government\n ruled Earth. Or until the United\n States and Russia figured out a way\n to get along with each other. And so\n far, getting along with Russia was\n like trying to get along with an\n octopus.\n\n\n Of course there were rumors that\n the psych warfare boys had some\n gimmick cooked up, to turn the\n U. S. S. R. upside down in a revolution,\n the next time power changed\n hands, but he'd been hearing that one\n for years. Still, with four new dictators\n over there in the last eleven\n years, there was always a chance.\n\n\n Anyway, he was just a space\n jockey, doing his job in this screwball\n fight out here in the empty reaches.\n Back on Earth, there was no war. The\n statesmen talked, held conferences,\n played international chess as ever.\n Neither side bothered the other's\n satellites, though naturally they were\n on permanent alert. There just wasn't\n going to be any Moon station for a\n while. Nobody knew what there\n might be on the Moon, but if one\n side couldn't have it, then the other\n side wasn't going to have it either.\n\n\n And meanwhile, the struggle was\n growing deadlier, month by month,\n each side groping for the stranglehold,\n looking for the edge that would\n give domination of space, or make\n all-out war a good risk. They hadn't\n found it yet, but it was getting bloodier\n out here all the time. For a while,\n it had been a supreme achievement\n just to get a ship out and back, but\n gradually, as the ships improved,\n there was a little margin left over for\n weapons. Back a year ago, the average\n patrol was nothing but a sightseeing\n tour. Not that there was much to see,\n when you'd been out a few times.\n Now, there were Reds around practically\n every mission.\nThirteen missions to go, after today.\nHe wondered if he'd quit at\n seventy-five. Deep inside him, the old\n pride and excitement were still\n strong. He still got a kick out of the\n way the girls looked at the silver\n rocket on his chest. But he didn't\n feel as lucky as he used to. Twenty-nine\n years old, and he was starting\n to feel like an old man. He pictured\n himself lecturing to a group of eager\n kids.\nHad a couple of close calls, those\n last two missions.\nThat Red had\n looked easy, the way he was wandering\n around. He hadn't spotted them\n until they were well into their run,\n but when he got started he'd made\n them look like slow motion, just the\n same. If he hadn't tried that harebrained\n sudden deceleration....\n Coulter shook his head at the memory.\n And on the last mission they'd\n been lucky to get a draw. Those boys\n were good shots.\n\"We're crossing his track, Paul.\n Turn to nine point five o'clock and\n hold 4 G's for thirty-two seconds,\n starting on the count ... five—four—three—two—one—go!\"\n He completed\n the operation in silence, remarking\n to himself how lucky he was\n to have Johnson. The boy loved a\n chase. He navigated like a hungry\n hawk, though you had to admit his\n techniques were a bit irregular.\n\n\n Coulter chuckled at the ad lib way\n they operated, remembering the\n courses, the tests, the procedures practiced\n until they could do them backwards\n blindfolded. When they tangled\n with a Red, the Solter co-ordinates\n went out the hatch. They navigated\n by the enemy. There were times\n during a fight when he had no more\n idea of his position than what the\n old ladies told him, and what he\n could see of the Sun, the Earth, and\n the Moon.\n\n\n And using \"right side up\" as a\n basis for navigation. He chuckled\n again. Still, the service had had to\n concede on \"right side up,\" in designing\n the ships, so there was something\n to be said for it. They hadn't\n been able to simulate gravity without\n fouling up the ships so they had\n to call the pilot's head \"up.\" There\n was something comforting about it.\n He'd driven a couple of the experimental\n jobs, one with the cockpit set\n on gimbals, and one where the whole\n ship rotated, and he hadn't cared for\n them at all. Felt disoriented, with\n something nagging at his mind all\n the time, as though the ships had\n been sabotaged. A couple of pilots\n had gone nuts in the \"spindizzy,\"\n and remembering his own feelings as\n he watched the sky go by, it was easy\n to understand.\n\n\n Anyway, \"right side up\" tied in\n perfectly with the old \"clock\" system\n Garrity had dug out of those magazines\n he was always reading. Once\n they got used to it, it had turned out\n really handy. Old Doc Hoffman, his\n astrogation prof, would have turned\n purple if he'd ever dreamed they'd\n use such a conglomeration. But\n it worked. And when you were\n in a hurry, it worked in a hurry, and\n that was good enough for Coulter.\n He'd submitted a report on it to\n Colonel Silton.\n\n\n \"You've got him, Paul. We're\n dead on his tail, five hundred miles\n back, and matching velocity. Turn\n forty-two degrees right, and you're\n lined up right on him.\" Johnson was\n pleased with the job he'd done.\n\n\n Coulter watched the pip move into\n his sightscreen. It settled less than a\n degree off dead center. He made the\n final corrections in course, set the air\n pressure control to eight pounds, and\n locked his helmet.\n\n\n \"Nice job, Johnny. Let's button\n up. You with us, Guns?\"\n\n\n Garrity sounded lazy as a well-fed\n tiger. \"Ah'm with yew, cap'n.\"\n\n\n Coulter advanced the throttle to\n 5 G's. And with the hiss of power,\n SF 308 began the deadly, intricate,\n precarious maneuver called a combat\n pass—a maneuver inherited from the\n aerial dogfight—though it often turned\n into something more like the\n broadside duels of the old sailing\n ships—as the best and least suicidal\n method of killing a spaceship. To\n start on the enemy's tail, just out of\n his radar range. To come up his track\n at 2 mps relative velocity, firing six\n .30 caliber machine guns from fifty\n miles out. In the last three or four\n seconds, to break out just enough to\n clear him, praying that he won't\n break in the same direction.\nAnd to\n keep on going.\nFour minutes and thirty-four seconds\n to the break.\nSixty seconds at\n 5 G's; one hundred ninety-two seconds\n of free wheeling; and then, if\n they were lucky, the twenty-two frantic\n seconds they were out here for—throwing\n a few pounds of steel slugs\n out before them in one unbroken\n burst, groping out fifty miles into\n the darkness with steel and radar fingers\n to kill a duplicate of themselves.\nThis is the worst. These three minutes\n are the worst.\nOne hundred\n ninety-two eternal seconds of waiting,\n of deathly silence and deathly\n calm, feeling and hearing nothing\n but the slow pounding of their own\n heartbeats. Each time he got back, it\n faded away, and all he remembered\n was the excitement. But each time\n he went through it, it was worse. Just\n standing and waiting in the silence,\n praying they weren't spotted—staring\n at the unmoving firmament and\n knowing he was a projectile hurtling\n two miles each second straight at a\n clump of metal and flesh that was\n the enemy. Knowing the odds were\n twenty to one against their scoring\n a kill ... unless they ran into him.\nAt eighty-five seconds, he corrected\n slightly to center the pip. The momentary\n hiss of the rockets was a\n relief. He heard the muffled yammering\n as Guns fired a short burst\n from the .30's standing out of their\n compartments around the sides of the\n ship. They were practically recoilless,\n but the burst drifted him forward\n against the cradle harness.\n\n\n And suddenly the waiting was\n over. The ship filled with vibration\n as Guns opened up.\nTwenty-five seconds\n to target.\nHis eyes flicked from\n the sightscreen to the sky ahead,\n looking for the telltale flare of rockets—ready\n to follow like a ferret.\nThere he is!\nAt eighteen miles\n from target, a tiny blue light flickered\n ahead. He forgot everything but the\n sightscreen, concentrating on keeping\n the pip dead center. The guns hammered\n on. It seemed they'd been firing\n for centuries. At ten-mile range,\n the combat radar kicked the automatics\n in, turning the ship ninety\n degrees to her course in one and a\n half seconds. He heard the lee side\n firing cut out, as Garrity hung on\n with two, then three guns.\n\n\n He held it as long as he could.\n Closer than he ever had before. At\n four miles he poured 12 G's for two\n seconds.\n\n\n They missed ramming by something\n around a hundred yards. The\n enemy ship flashed across his tail in\n a fraction of a second, already turned\n around and heading up its own track,\n yet it seemed to Paul he could make\n out every detail—the bright red star,\n even the tortured face of the pilot.\n Was there something lopsided in the\n shape of that rocket plume, or was\n he just imagining it in the blur of\n their passing? And did he hear a\nping\njust at that instant, feel the\n ship vibrate for a second?\n\n\n He continued the turn in the direction\n the automatics had started, bringing\n his nose around to watch the\n enemy's track. And as the shape of\n the plume told him the other ship\n was still heading back toward Earth,\n he brought the throttle back up to\n 12 G's, trying to overcome the lead\n his pass had given away.\n\n\n Guns spoke quietly to Johnson.\n \"Let me know when we kill his RV.\n Ah may get another shot at him.\"\n\n\n And Johnny answered, hurt,\n \"What do you think I'm doing down\n here—reading one of your magazines?\"\n\n\n Paul was struggling with hundred-pound\n arms, trying to focus the telescope\n that swiveled over the panel.\n As the field cleared, he could see that\n the plume was flaring unevenly, flickering\n red and orange along one side.\n Quietly and viciously, he was talking\n to himself. \"Blow! Blow!\"\nAnd she blew. Like a dirty ragged\n bit of fireworks, throwing tiny handfuls\n of sparks into the blackness.\n Something glowed red for a while,\n and slowly faded.\nThere, but for the grace of God....\nPaul shuddered in a confused\n mixture of relief and revulsion.\n\n\n He cut back to 4 G's, noting that\n RVS registered about a mile per\n second away from station, and suddenly\n became aware that the red light\n was on for loss of air. The cabin\n pressure gauge read zero, and his\n heart throbbed into his throat as he\n remembered that\npinging\nsound, just\n as they passed the enemy ship. He\n told Garrity to see if he could locate\n the loss, and any other damage, and\n was shortly startled by a low amazed\n whistle in his earphones.\n\n\n \"If Ah wasn't lookin' at it, Ah\n wouldn't believe it. Musta been one\n of his shells went right around the\n fuel tank and out again, without hittin'\n it. There's at least three inches of\n tank on a line between the holes! He\n musta been throwin' curves at us.\n Man, cap'n, this is our lucky day!\"\n\n\n Paul felt no surprise, only relief\n at having the trouble located. The\n reaction to the close call might not\n come till hours later. \"This kind of\n luck we can do without. Can you\n patch the holes?\"\n\n\n \"Ah can patch the one where it\n came in, but it musta been explodin'\n on the way out. There's a hole Ah\n could stick mah head through.\"\n\n\n \"That's a good idea.\" Johnson was\n not usually very witty, but this was\n one he couldn't resist.\n\n\n \"Never mind, Guns. A patch that\n big wouldn't be safe to hold air.\"\nThey were about eighty thousand\n miles out. He set course for Earth at\n about five and a half mps, which\n Johnson calculated to bring them in\n on the station on the \"going away\"\n side of its orbit, and settled back for\n the tedious two hours of free wheeling.\n For ten or fifteen minutes, the\n interphone crackled with the gregariousness\n born of recent peril, and\n gradually the ship fell silent as each\n man returned to his own private\n thoughts.\n\n\n Paul was wondering about the men\n on the other ship—whether any of\n them were still alive. Eighty thousand\n miles to fall. That was a little\n beyond the capacity of an emergency\n rocket—about 2 G's for sixty seconds—even\n if they had them. What a\n way to go home! He wondered what\n he'd do if it happened to him. Would\n he wait out his time, or just unlock\n his helmet.\n\n\n Guns' drawl broke into his reverie.\n \"Say, cap'n, Ah've been readin' in\n this magazine about a trick they used\n to use, called skip bombin'. They'd\n hang a bomb on the bottom of one\n of these airplanes, and fly along the\n ground, right at what they wanted\n to hit. Then they'd let the bomb go\n and get out of there, and the bomb\n would sail right on into the target.\n You s'pose we could fix this buggy\n up with an A bomb or an H bomb\n we could let go a few hundred miles\n out? Stick a proximity fuse on it, and\n a time fuse, too, in case we missed.\n Just sittin' half a mile apart and\n tradin' shots like we did on that last\n mission is kinda hard on mah nerves,\n and it's startin' to happen too often.\"\n\n\n \"Nice work if we could get it.\n I'm not crazy about those broadside\n battles myself. You'd think they'd\n have found something better than\n these thirty caliber popguns by now,\n but the odds say we've got to throw\n as many different chunks of iron as\n we can, to have a chance of hitting\n anything, and even then it's twenty\n to one against us. You wouldn't have\n one chance in a thousand of scoring\n a hit with a bomb at that distance,\n even if they didn't spot it and take\n off. What you'd need would be a\n rocket that could chase them, with\n the bomb for a head. And there's no\n way we could carry that size rocket,\n or fire it if we could. Some day these\n crates will come with men's rooms,\n and we'll have a place to carry something\n like that.\"\n\n\n \"How big would a rocket like that\n be?\"\n\n\n \"Five, six feet, by maybe a foot.\n Weigh at least three hundred\n pounds.\"\n\n\n It was five minutes before Guns\n spoke again. \"Ah been thinkin',\n cap'n. With a little redecoratin', Ah\n think Ah could get a rocket that size\n in here with me. We could weld a\n rail to one of the gun mounts that\n would hold it up to five or six G's.\n Then after we got away from station,\n Ah could take it outside and mount\n it on the rail.\"\n\n\n \"Forget it, lad. If they ever caught\n us pulling a trick like that, they'd\n have us on hydroponic duty for the\n next five years. They just don't want\n us playing around with bombs, till\n the experts get all the angles figured\n out, and build ships to handle them.\n And besides, who do you think will\n rig a bomb like that, without anybody\n finding out? And where do you think\n we'd get a bomb in the first place?\n They don't leave those things lying\n around. Kovacs watches them like a\n mother hen. I think he counts them\n twice a day.\"\n\n\n \"Sorry, cap'n. Ah just figured if\n you could get hold of a bomb, Ah\n know a few of the boys who could\n rig the thing up for us and keep\n their mouths shut.\"\n\n\n \"Well, forget about it. It's not a\n bad idea, but we haven't any bomb.\"\n\n\n \"Right, cap'n.\"\nBut it was Paul who couldn't forget\n about it. All the rest of the way\n back to station, he kept seeing visions\n of a panel sliding aside in the nose\n of a sleek and gleaming ship, while\n a small rocket pushed its deadly snout\n forward, and then streaked off at\n tremendous acceleration.\n\n\n Interrogation was brief. The mission\n had turned up nothing new.\n Their kill made eight against seven\n for Doc Miller's crew, and they made\n sure Miller and the boys heard about\n it. They were lightheaded with the\n elation that followed a successful\n mission, swapping insults with the\n rest of the squadron, and reveling in\n the sheer contentment of being back\n safe.\n\n\n It wasn't until he got back to his\n stall, and started to write his father\n a long overdue letter, that he remembered\n he had heard Kovacs say he\n was going on leave.\n\n\n When he finished the letter, he\n opened the copy of \"Lady Chatterley's\n Lover\" he had borrowed from\n Rodriguez's limited but colorful library.\n He couldn't keep his mind on\n it. He kept thinking of the armament\n officer.\n\n\n Kovacs was a quiet, intelligent kid,\n devoted to his work. Coulter wasn't\n too intimate with him. He wasn't a\n spaceman, for one thing. One of those\n illogical but powerful distinctions\n that sub-divided the men of the station.\n And he was a little too polite to\n be easy company.\n\n\n Paul remembered the time he had\n walked into the Muroc Base Officer's\n Club with Marge Halpern on his\n arm. The hunger that had lain undisguised\n on Kovacs' face the moment\n he first saw them. Marge was\n a striking blonde with a direct manner,\n who liked men, especially orbit\n station men. He hadn't thought about\n the incident since then, but the look\n in Kovacs' eyes kept coming back to\n him as he tried to read.\n\n\n He wasn't sure how he got there,\n or why, when he found himself walking\n into Colonel Silton's office to ask\n for the leave he'd passed up at his\n fiftieth mission. He'd considered taking\n it several times, but the thought\n of leaving the squadron, even for a\n couple of weeks, had made him feel\n guilty, as though he were quitting.\n\n\n Once he had his papers, he started\n to get excited about it. As he cleaned\n up his paper work and packed his\n musette, his hands were fumbling,\n and his mind was full of Sylvia.\nThe vastness of Muroc Base was as\n incredible as ever. Row on uncounted\n row of neat buildings, each resting at\n the top of its own hundred-yard\n deep elevator shaft. A pulsing, throbbing\n city, dedicated to the long slow\n struggle to get into space and stay\n there. The service crew eyed them\n with studied indifference, as they\n writhed out of the small hatch and\n stepped to the ground. They drew a\n helijet at operations, and headed immediately\n for Los Angeles.\n\n\n Kovacs had been impressed when\n Paul asked if he'd care to room together\n while they were on leave. He\n was quiet on the flight, as he had\n been on the way down, listening contentedly,\n while Paul talked combat\n and women with Bob Parandes, another\n pilot going on leave.\n\n\n They parked the helijet at Municipal\n Field and headed for the public\n PV booths, picking up a coterie of\n two dogs and five assorted children\n on the way. The kids followed quietly\n in their wake, ecstatic at the sight of\n their uniforms.\n\n\n Paul squared his shoulders, as befitted\n a hero, and tousled a couple of\n uncombed heads as they walked. The\n kids clustered around the booths, as\n Kovacs entered one to locate a hotel\n room, and Paul another, to call\n Sylvia.\n\n\n \"Honey, I've been so scared you\n weren't coming back. Where are you?\n When will I see you? Why didn't\n you write?...\" She sputtered to a\n stop as he held up both hands in\n defense.\n\n\n \"Whoa, baby. One thing at a time.\n I'm at the airport. You'll see me tonight,\n and I'll tell you the rest then.\n That is, if you're free tonight. And\n tomorrow. And the day after, and\n the day after that. Are you free?\"\n\n\n Her hesitation was only momentary.\n \"Well, I was going out—with\n a girl friend. But she'll understand.\n What's up?\"\n\n\n He took a deep breath. \"I'd like\n to get out of the city for a few days,\n where we can take things easy and\n be away from the crowds. And there\n is another guy I'd like to bring\n along.\"\n\n\n \"We could take my helijet out to\n my dad's cottage at—\nWhat did you\n say?\n\"\n\n\n It was a ticklish job explaining\n about Kovacs, but when she understood\n that he just wanted to do a\n friend a favor, and she'd still have\n Paul all to herself, she calmed down.\n They made their arrangements quickly,\n and switched off.\n\n\n He hesitated a minute before he\n called Marge. She was quite a dish\n to give up. Once she'd seen him with\n Sylvia, he'd be strictly\npersona non\n grata\n—that was for sure. It was an\n unhappy thought. Well, maybe it was\n in a good cause. He shrugged and\n called her.\n\n\n She nearly cut him off when she\n first heard his request, but he did\n some fast talking. The idea of several\n days at the cottage intrigued her, and\n when he described how smitten\n Kovacs had been, she brightened up\n and agreed to come. He switched off,\n adjusted the drape of his genuine\n silk scarf, and stepped out of the\n booth.\n\n\n Kovacs and the kids were waiting.\n The armament officer had apparently\n been telling them of Paul's exploits.\n They glowed with admiration. The\n oldest boy, about eleven, had true\n worship in his eyes. He hesitated a\n moment, then asked gravely: \"Would\n you tell us how you kill a Red, sir?\"\n\n\n Paul eyed the time-honored weapon\n that dangled from the youngster's\n hand. He bent over and tapped it\n with his finger. His voice was warm\n and confiding, but his eyes were far\n away.\n\n\n \"I think next we're going to try\n a slingshot,\" he said.\nTHE END\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAstounding Science Fiction\nNovember 1955.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright\n on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors\n have been corrected without note.\n***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SLINGSHOT***\n\n\n ******* This file should be named 22462-h.txt or 22462-h.zip *******\n\n\n This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:\n\n http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/4/6/22462\n\n\n Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions\n will be renamed.\n\n\n Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no\n one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation\n (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without\n permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,\n set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to\n copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to\n protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project\n Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you\n charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you\n do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the\n rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose\n such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and\n research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do\n practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is\n subject to the trademark license, especially commercial\n redistribution.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which old lady helps Coulter return home?", "question_unique_id": "22462_BUA2LH2S_1", "options": ["Sylvia", "Both old ladies", "Mrs. RSF", "Mrs. RVS"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the Moon stations blow up?", "question_unique_id": "22462_BUA2LH2S_2", "options": ["Reds blew it up", "Accident", "Americans blew it up", "Unclear"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0015", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following does the title of the story likely reference?", "question_unique_id": "22462_BUA2LH2S_3", "options": ["The Space Race", "The Arms Race", "How Coulter treats women", "How spaceships work"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Coulter help Kovacs on leave?", "question_unique_id": "22462_BUA2LH2S_4", "options": ["Coulter doesn't want to be distracted by Marge anymore", "To get Kovacs away from the armaments", "Coulter feels embarrassed for Kovacs", "Coulter likes Kovacs"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the ping that Coulter heard?", "question_unique_id": "22462_BUA2LH2S_5", "options": ["The sound of the lopsided rocket plume in the Red ship", "The sound of an impact in the fuel tanks", "The sound of the cabin depressurizing", "The sound of the Red pilot killing his RV"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0023", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/4/6/22462//22462-h//22462-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "22524", "set_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Hunters", "year": 1950, "author": "Samachson, Joseph", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "THE HUNTERS\nBY WILLIAM MORRISON\nILLUSTRATED BY VAN DONGEN\nTo all who didn't know him, Curt George was a\n mighty hunter and actor. But this time he was\n up against others who could really act, and\n whose business was the hunting of whole worlds.\n\n\n There were thirty or more of\n the little girls, their ages ranging\n apparently from nine to\n eleven, all of them chirping\n away like a flock of chicks as\n they followed the old mother hen\n past the line of cages. \"Now,\n now, girls,\" called Miss Burton\n cheerily. \"Don't scatter. I can't\n keep my eye on you if you get\n too far away from me. You,\n Hilda, give me that water pistol.\n No, don't fill it up first at that\n fountain. And Frances, stop\n bouncing your ball. You'll lose it\n through the bars, and a polar\n bear may get it and not want to\n give it back.\"\n\n\n Frances giggled. \"Oh, Miss\n Burton, do you think the polar\n bear would want to play catch?\"\n\n\n The two men who were looking\n on wore pleased smiles.\n \"Charming,\" said Manto. \"But\n somewhat unpredictable, despite\n all our experiences,\n muy amigo\n .\"\n\n\n \"No attempts at Spanish, Manto,\n not here. It calls attention to\n us. And you are not sure of the\n grammar anyway. You may find\n yourself saying things you do\n not intend.\"\n\n\n \"Sorry, Palit. It wasn't an attempt\n to show my skill, I assure\n you. It's that by now I have a\n tendency to confuse one language\n with another.\"\n\n\n \"I know. You were never a linguist.\n But about these interesting\n creatures—\"\n\n\n \"I suggest that they could\n stand investigation. It would be\n good to know how they think.\"\n\n\n \"Whatever you say, Manto. If\n you wish, we shall join the little\n ladies.\"\n\n\n \"We must have our story prepared\n first.\"\n\n\n Palit nodded, and the two men\n stepped under the shade of a\n tree whose long, drooping, leaf-covered\n branches formed a convenient\n screen. For a moment,\n the tree hid silence. Then there\n came from beneath the branches\n the chatter of girlish voices, and\n two little girls skipped merrily\n away. Miss Burton did not at\n first notice that now she had an\n additional two children in her\n charge.\n\n\n \"Do you think you will be able\n to keep your English straight?\"\n asked one of the new little girls.\n\n\n The other one smiled with\n amusement and at first did not\n answer. Then she began to skip\n around her companion and\n chant, \"I know a secret, I know\n a secret.\"\n\n\n There was no better way to\n make herself inconspicuous. For\n some time, Miss Burton did not\n notice her.\nThe polar bears, the grizzlies,\n the penguins, the reptiles, all\n were left behind. At times the\n children scattered, but Miss Burton\n knew how to get them together\n again, and not one was\n lost.\n\n\n \"Here, children, is the building\n where the kangaroos live.\n Who knows where kangaroos\n come from?\"\n\n\n \"Australia!\" clanged the shrill\n chorus.\n\n\n \"That's right. And what other\n animals come from Australia?\"\n\n\n \"I know, Miss Burton!\" cried\n Frances, a dark-haired nine-year-old\n with a pair of glittering\n eyes that stared like a pair\n of critics from a small heart-shaped\n face. \"I've been here before.\n Wallabies and wombats!\"\n\n\n \"Very good, Frances.\"\n\n\n Frances smirked at the approbation.\n \"I've been to the zoo\n lots of times,\" she said to the\n girl next to her. \"My father\n takes me.\"\n\n\n \"I wish my father would take\n me too,\" replied the other little\n girl, with an air of wistfulness.\n\n\n \"Why don't you ask him to?\"\n Before the other little girl could\n answer, Frances paused, cocked\n her head slightly, and demanded,\n \"Who are you? You aren't in our\n class.\"\n\n\n \"I'm in Miss Hassel's class.\"\n\n\n \"Miss Hassel? Who is she? Is\n she in our school?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know,\" said the other\n little girl uncertainly. \"I go to\n P. S. 77—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Miss Burton,\" screamed\n Frances. \"Here's a girl who isn't\n in our class! She got lost from\n her own class!\"\n\"Really?\" Miss Burton seemed\n rather pleased at the idea that\n some other teacher had been so\n careless as to lose one of her\n charges. \"What's your name,\n child?\"\n\n\n \"I'm Carolyn.\"\n\n\n \"Carolyn what?\"\n\n\n \"Carolyn Manto. Please, Miss\n Burton, I had to go to the bathroom,\n and then when I came\n out—\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, I know.\"\n\n\n A shrill cry came from another\n section of her class. \"Oh, Miss\n Burton, here's another one who's\n lost!\"\n\n\n The other little girl was\n pushed forward. \"Now, who are\n you\n ?\" Miss Burton asked.\n\n\n \"I'm Doris Palit. I went with\n Carolyn to the bathroom—\"\nMiss Burton made a sound of\n annoyance. Imagine losing\n two\n children and not noticing it right\n away. The other teacher must\n be frantic by now, and serve her\n right for being so careless.\n\n\n \"All right, you may stay with\n us until we find a policeman—\"\n She interrupted herself. \"Frances,\n what are you giggling at\n now?\"\n\n\n \"It's Carolyn. She's making\n faces just like you!\"\n\n\n \"Really, Carolyn, that isn't at\n all nice!\"\n\n\n Carolyn's face altered itself in\n a hurry, so as to lose any resemblance\n to Miss Burton's. \"I'm\n sorry, Miss Burton, I didn't\n really mean to do anything\n wrong.\"\n\n\n \"Well, I'd like to know how\n you were brought up, if you\n don't know that it's wrong to\n mimic people to their faces. A\n big girl like you, too. How old\n are you, Carolyn?\"\n\n\n Carolyn shrank, she hoped imperceptibly,\n by an inch. \"I'm\n two—\"\n\n\n An outburst of shrill laughter.\n \"She's two years old, she's\n two years old!\"\n\n\n \"I was going to say, I'm\n to\n welve\n . Almost, anyway.\"\n\n\n \"Eleven years old,\" said Miss\n Burton. \"Old enough to know\n better.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Miss Burton. And\n honest, Miss Burton, I didn't\n mean anything, but I'm studying\n to be an actress, and I imitate\n people, like the actors you\n see on television—\"\n\n\n \"Oh, Miss Burton, please don't\n make her go home with a policeman.\n If she's going to be an\n actress, I'll bet she'd love to see\n Curt George!\"\n\n\n \"Well, after the way she's behaved,\n I don't know whether I\n should let her. I really don't.\"\n\n\n \"Please, Miss Burton, it was\n an accident. I won't do it again.\"\n\n\n \"All right, if you're good, and\n cause no trouble. But we still\n have plenty of time before seeing\n Mr. George. It's only two now,\n and we're not supposed to go to\n the lecture hall until four.\"\n\n\n \"Miss Burton,\" called Barbara\n Willman, \"do you think he'd give\n us his autograph?\"\n\n\n \"Now, children, I've warned\n you about that. You mustn't\n annoy him. Mr. George is a famous\n movie actor, and his time\n is valuable. It's very kind of him\n to offer to speak to us, especially\n when so many grown-up people\n are anxious to hear him, but\n we mustn't take advantage of his\n kindness.\"\n\n\n \"But he likes children, Miss\n Burton! My big sister read in a\n movie magazine where it said\n he's just crazy about them.\"\n\n\n \"I know, but—he's not in good\n health, children. They say he got\n jungle fever in Africa, where he\n was shooting all those lions, and\n rhinoceroses, and elephants for\n his new picture. That's why you\n mustn't bother him too much.\"\n\n\n \"But he looks so big and\n strong, Miss Burton. It wouldn't\n hurt him to sign an autograph!\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes, it would,\" asserted\n one little girl. \"He shakes. When\n he has an attack of fever, his\n hand shakes.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Africa is a dangerous\n continent, and one never knows\n how the dangers will strike one,\"\n said Miss Burton complacently.\n \"So we must all remember how\n bravely Mr. George is fighting\n his misfortune, and do our best\n not to tire him out.\"\nIn the bright light that flooded\n the afternoon breakfast table,\n Curt George's handsome, manly\n face wore an expression of distress.\n He groaned dismally, and\n muttered, \"What a head I've got,\n what a head. How do you expect\n me to face that gang of kids\n without a drink to pick me up?\"\n\n\n \"You've had your drink,\" said\n Carol. She was slim, attractive,\n and efficient. At the moment she\n was being more efficient than attractive,\n and she could sense his\n resentment. \"That's all you get.\n Now, lay off, and try to be\n reasonably sober, for a change.\"\n\n\n \"But those kids! They'll squeal\n and giggle—\"\n\n\n \"They're about the only audience\n in the world that won't\n spot you as a drunk. God knows\n where I could find any one else\n who'd believe that your hand\n shakes because of fever.\"\n\n\n \"I know that you're looking\n out for my best interests, Carol.\n But one more drink wouldn't\n hurt me.\"\n\n\n She said wearily, but firmly, \"I\n don't argue with drunks, Curt. I\n just go ahead and protect them\n from themselves. No drinks.\"\n\n\n \"Afterwards?\"\n\n\n \"I can't watch you the way a\n mother watches a child.\"\n\n\n The contemptuous reply sent\n his mind off on a new tack. \"You\n could if we were married.\"\n\n\n \"I've never believed in marrying\n weak characters to reform\n them.\"\n\n\n \"But if I proved to you that I\n could change—\"\n\n\n \"Prove it first, and I'll consider\n your proposal afterwards.\"\n\n\n \"You certainly are a cold-blooded\n creature, Carol. But I\n suppose that in your profession\n you have to be.\"\n\n\n \"Cold, suspicious, nasty—and\n reliable. It's inevitable when I\n must deal with such warm-hearted,\n trusting, and unreliable\n clients.\"\n\n\n He watched her move about\n the room, clearing away the\n dishes from his meager breakfast.\n \"What are you humming,\n Carol?\"\n\n\n \"Was I humming?\"\n\n\n \"I thought I recognized it—\n All\n of Me, Why Not Take All of\n Me\n ? That's it! Your subconscious\n gives you away. You really\n want to marry me!\"\n\n\n \"A mistake,\" she said coolly.\n \"My subconscious doesn't know\n what it's talking about. All I\n want of you is the usual ten per\n cent.\"\n\n\n \"Can't you forget for a moment\n that you're an agent, and\n remember that you're a woman,\n too?\"\n\n\n \"No. Not unless you forget\n that you're a drunk, and remember\n that you're a man. Not unless\n you make me forget that you\n drank your way through\n Africa—\"\n\n\n \"Because you weren't there\n with me!\"\n\n\n \"—with hardly enough energy\n to let them dress you in that\n hunter's outfit and photograph\n you as if you were shooting\n lions.\"\n\n\n \"You're so unforgiving, Carol.\n You don't have much use for me,\n do you—consciously, that is?\"\n\n\n \"Frankly, Curt, no. I don't\n have much use for useless people.\"\n\n\n \"I'm not entirely useless. I\n earn you that ten per cent—\"\n\n\n \"I'd gladly forego that to see\n you sober.\"\n\n\n \"But it's your contempt for me\n that drives me to drink. And\n when I think of having to face\n those dear little kiddies with\n nothing inside me—\"\n\n\n \"There should be happiness inside\n you at the thought of your\n doing a good deed. Not a drop,\n George, not a drop.\"\nThe two little girls drew apart\n from the others and began to\n whisper into each other's ears.\n The whispers were punctuated\n by giggles which made the entire\n childish conversation seem quite\n normal. But Palit was in no\n laughing mood. He said, in his\n own language, \"You're getting\n careless, Manto. You had no\n business imitating her expression.\"\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, Palit, but it was\n so suggestive. And I'm a very\n suggestible person.\"\n\n\n \"So am I. But I control myself.\"\n\n\n \"Still, if the temptation were\n great enough, I don't think you'd\n be able to resist either.\"\n\n\n \"The issues are important\n enough to make me resist.\"\n\n\n \"Still, I thought I saw your\n own face taking on a bit of her\n expression too.\"\n\n\n \"You are imagining things,\n Manto. Another thing, that mistake\n in starting to say you were\n two hundred years old—\"\n\n\n \"They would have thought it\n a joke. And I think I got out of\n that rather neatly.\"\n\n\n \"You like to skate on thin ice,\n don't you, Manto? Just as you\n did when you changed your\n height. You had no business\n shrinking right out in public like\n that.\"\n\n\n \"I did it skillfully. Not a\n single person noticed.\"\n\n\n \"\n I\n noticed.\"\n\n\n \"Don't quibble.\"\n\n\n \"I don't intend to. Some of\n these children have very sharp\n eyes. You'd be surprised at what\n they see.\"\n\n\n Manto said tolerantly, \"You're\n getting jittery, Palit. We've\n been away from home too long.\"\n\n\n \"I am not jittery in the least.\n But I believe in taking due care.\"\n\n\n \"What could possibly happen\n to us? If we were to announce\n to the children and the teacher,\n and to every one in this zoo, for\n that matter, exactly who and\n what we were, they wouldn't believe\n us. And even if they did,\n they wouldn't be able to act rapidly\n enough to harm us.\"\n\n\n \"You never can tell about such\n things. Wise—people—simply\n don't take unnecessary chances.\"\n\n\n \"I'll grant that you're my superior\n in such wisdom.\"\n\n\n \"You needn't be sarcastic,\n Manto, I\n know\n I'm superior.\n I\n realize what a godsend this\n planet is—you don't. It has the\n right gravity, a suitable atmosphere,\n the proper chemical composition—everything.\"\n\n\n \"Including a population that\n will be helpless before us.\"\n\n\n \"And you would take chances\n of losing all this.\"\n\n\n \"Don't be silly, Palit. What\n chances am I taking?\"\n\n\n \"The chance of being discovered.\n Here we stumble on this\n place quite by accident. No one\n at home knows about it, no one\n so much as suspects that it exists.\n We must get back and report—and\n you do all sorts of silly\n things which may reveal what\n we are, and lead these people to\n suspect their danger.\"\nThis time, Manto's giggle was\n no longer mere camouflage, but\n expressed to a certain degree\n how he felt. \"They cannot possibly\n suspect. We have been all\n over the world, we have taken\n many forms and adapted ourselves\n to many customs, and no\n one has suspected. And even if\n danger really threatened, it\n would be easy to escape. I could\n take the form of the school\n teacher herself, of a policeman,\n of any one in authority. However,\n at present there is not the\n slightest shadow of danger. So,\n Palit, you had better stop being\n fearful.\"\n\n\n Palit said firmly, \"Be careful,\n and I won't be fearful. That's all\n there is to it.\"\n\n\n \"I'll be careful. After all, I\n shouldn't want us to lose these\n children. They're so exactly the\n kind we need. Look how inquiring\n they are, how unafraid, how\n quick to adapt to any circumstances—\"\n\n\n Miss Burton's voice said,\n \"Good gracious, children, what\n language\n are\n you using? Greek?\"\n\n\n They had been speaking too\n loud, they had been overheard.\n Palit and Manto stared at each\n other, and giggled coyly. Then,\n after a second to think, Palit\n said, \"Onay, Issmay Urtonbay!\"\n\n\n \"What?\"\n\n\n Frances shrilled triumphantly,\n \"It isn't Greek, Miss Burton, it's\n Latin—Pig-Latin. She said,\n 'No, Miss Burton.'\"\n\n\n \"Good heavens, what is Pig-Latin?\"\n\n\n \"It's a kind of way of talking\n where you talk kind of backwards.\n Like, you don't say,\n Me\n ,\n you say,\n Emay\n .\"\n\n\n \"You don't say,\n Yes\n , you say\n Esyay\n ,\" added another little girl.\n\n\n \"You don't say,\n You\n , you say,\n Ouyay\n . You don't say—\"\n\n\n \"All right, all right, I get the\n idea.\"\n\n\n \"You don't say—\"\n\n\n \"That'll do,\" said Miss Burton\n firmly. \"Now, let's get along\n to the lion house. And please,\n children, do not make faces at\n the lions. How would you like to\n be in a cage and have people\n make faces at you? Always remember\n to be considerate to\n others.\"\n\n\n \"Even lions, Miss Burton?\"\n\n\n \"Even lions.\"\n\n\n \"But Mr. George shot lots of\n lions. Was he considerate of them\n too?\"\n\n\n \"There is no time for silly\n questions,\" said Miss Burton,\n with the same firmness. \"Come\n along.\"\n\n\n They all trouped after her,\n Palit and Manto bringing up the\n rear. Manto giggled, and whispered\n with amusement, \"That\n Pig-Latin business was quick\n thinking, Palit. But in fact, quite\n unnecessary. The things that you\n do to avoid being suspected!\"\n\n\n \"It never hurts to take precautions.\n And I think that now it is\n time to leave.\"\n\n\n \"No, not yet. You are always\n anxious to learn details before\n reporting. Why not learn a few\n more details now?\"\n\n\n \"Because they are not necessary.\n We already have a good\n understanding of human customs\n and psychology.\"\n\n\n \"But not of the psychology of\n children. And they, if you remember,\n are the ones who will\n have to adapt. We shall be asked\n about them. It would be nice if\n we could report that they are fit\n for all-purpose service, on a wide\n range of planets. Let us stay\n awhile longer.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" conceded Palit,\n grudgingly.\nSo they stayed, and out of\n some twigs and leaves they\n shaped the necessary coins with\n which to buy peanuts, and popcorn,\n and ice cream, and other\n delicacies favored by the young.\n Manto wanted to win easy popularity\n by treating a few of the\n other children, but Palit put his\n girlish foot down. No use arousing\n suspicion. Even as it was—\n\n\n \"Gee, your father gives you an\n awful lot of spending money,\"\n said Frances enviously. \"Is he\n rich?\"\n\n\n \"We get as much as we want,\"\n replied Manto carelessly.\n\n\n \"Gosh, I wish I did.\"\n\n\n Miss Burton collected her\n brood. \"Come together, children,\n I have something to say to you.\n Soon it will be time to go in and\n hear Mr. George. Now, if Mr.\n George is so kind as to entertain\n us, don't you think that it's only\n proper for us to entertain him?\"\n\n\n \"We could put on our class\n play!\" yelled Barbara.\n\n\n \"Barbara's a fine one to talk,\"\n said Frances. \"She doesn't even\n remember her lines.\"\n\n\n \"No, children, we mustn't do\n anything we can't do well. That\n wouldn't make a good impression.\n And besides, there is no\n time for a play. Perhaps Barbara\n will sing—\"\n\n\n \"I can sing a 'Thank You'\n song,\" interrupted Frances.\n\n\n \"That would be nice.\"\n\n\n \"I can recite,\" added another\n little girl.\n\n\n \"Fine. How about you, Carolyn?\n You and your little friend,\n Doris. Can she act too?\"\n\n\n Carolyn giggled. \"Oh, yes, she\n can act very well. I can act like\n people. She can act like animals.\"\n The laughing, girlish eyes evaded\n a dirty look from the little\n friend. \"She can act like\n any\n kind of animal.\"\n\n\n \"She's certainly a talented\n child. But she seems so shy!\"\n\n\n \"Oh, no,\" said Carolyn. \"She\n likes to be coaxed.\"\n\n\n \"She shouldn't be like that.\n Perhaps, Carolyn, you and Doris\n can do something together. And\n perhaps, too, Mr. George will be\n pleased to see that your teacher\n also has talent.\"\n\n\n \"You, Miss Burton?\"\n\n\n Miss Burton coughed modestly.\n \"Yes, children, I never told you,\n but I was once ambitious to be\n an actress too. I studied dramatics,\n and really, I was quite\n good at it. I was told that if I\n persevered I might actually be\n famous. Just think, your teacher\n might actually have been a famous\n actress! However, in my\n day, there were many coarse people\n on the stage, and the life of\n the theater was not attractive—but\n perhaps we'd better not\n speak of that. At any rate, I\n know the principles of the dramatic\n art very well.\"\n\"God knows what I'll have to\n go through,\" said Curt. \"And I\n don't see how I can take it\n sober.\"\n\n\n \"I don't see how they can take\n you drunk,\" replied Carol.\n\n\n \"Why go through with it at\n all? Why not call the whole thing\n quits?\"\n\n\n \"Because people are depending\n on you. You always want to call\n quits whenever you run into\n something you don't like. You\n may as well call quits to your\n contract if that's the way you\n feel.\"\n\n\n \"And to your ten per cent,\n darling.\"\n\n\n \"You think I'd mind that. I\n work for my ten per cent, Curt,\n sweetheart. I work too damn\n hard for that ten per cent.\"\n\n\n \"You can marry me and take\n it easy. Honest, Carol, if you\n treated me better, if you showed\n me I meant something to you,\n I'd give up drinking.\"\n\n\n She made a face. \"Don't talk\n nonsense. Take your outfit, and\n let's get ready to go. Unless you\n want to change here, and walk\n around dressed as a lion hunter.\"\n\n\n \"Why not? I've walked around\n dressed as worse. A drunk.\"\n\n\n \"Drunks don't attract attention.\n They're too ordinary.\"\n\n\n \"But a drunken lion hunter—that's\n something special.\" He\n went into the next room and began\n to change. \"Carol,\" he\n called. \"Do you like me?\"\n\n\n \"At times.\"\n\n\n \"Would you say that you liked\n me very much?\"\n\n\n \"When you're sober. Rarely.\"\n\n\n \"Love me?\"\n\n\n \"Once in a blue moon.\"\n\n\n \"What would I have to do for\n you to want to marry me?\"\n\n\n \"Amount to something.\"\n\n\n \"I like that. Don't you think I\n amount to something now?\n Women swoon at the sight of my\n face on the screen, and come to\n life again at the sound of my\n voice.\"\n\n\n \"The women who swoon at you\n will swoon at anybody. Besides,\n I don't consider that making nitwits\n swoon is a useful occupation\n for a real man.\"\n\n\n \"How can I be useful, Carol?\n No one ever taught me how.\"\n\n\n \"Some people manage without\n being taught.\"\n\n\n \"I suppose I could think how\n if I had a drink inside me.\"\n\n\n \"Then you'll have to do without\n thinking.\"\n\n\n He came into the room again,\n powerful, manly, determined-looking.\n There was an expression\n in his eye which indicated\n courage without end, a courage\n that would enable him to brave\n the wrath of man, beast, or devil.\n\n\n \"How do I look?\"\n\n\n \"Your noble self, of course. A\n poor woman's edition of Rudolph\n Valentino.\"\n\n\n \"I feel terrified. I don't know\n how I'm going to face those kids.\n If they were boys it wouldn't be\n so bad, but a bunch of little\n girls!\"\n\n\n \"They'll grow up to be your\n fans, if you're still alive five\n years from now. Meanwhile, into\n each life some rain must fall.\"\n\n\n \"You would talk of water,\n when you know how I feel.\"\n\n\n \"Sorry. Come on, let's go.\"\nThe lecture hall resounded\n with giggles. And beneath the\n giggles was a steady undercurrent\n of whispers, of girlish confidences\n exchanged, of girlish\n hopes that would now be fulfilled.\n Miss Burton's class was\n not the only one which had come\n to hear the famous actor-hunter\n describe his brave exploits. There\n were at least five others like it,\n and by some mistake, a class of\n boys, who also whispered to each\n other, in manly superiority, and\n pretended to find amusement in\n the presence of so many of the\n fairer sex.\n\n\n In this atmosphere of giggles\n and whispers, Manto and Palit\n could exchange confidences without\n being noticed. Palit said savagely,\n \"Why did you tell her that\n I could act too?\"\n\n\n \"Why, because it's the truth.\n You're a very good animal performer.\n You make a wonderful\n dragon, for instance. Go on,\n Palit, show her what a fine\n dragon you can—\"\n\n\n \"Stop it, you fool, before you\n cause trouble!\"\n\n\n \"Very well, Palit. Did I tempt\n you?\"\n\n\n \"Did you tempt me! You and\n your sense of humor!\"\n\n\n \"You and your lack of it! But\n let's not argue now, Palit. Here,\n I think, comes the lion-hunter.\n Let's scream, and be as properly\n excited as every one else is.\"\nMy God, he thought, how can\n they keep their voices so high\n so long? My eardrums hurt already.\n How do they stand a lifetime\n of it? Even an hour?\n\n\n \"Go ahead,\" whispered Carol.\n \"You've seen the script—go into\n your act. Tell them what a hero\n you are. You have the odds in\n your favor to start with.\"\n\n\n \"My lovely looks,\" he said,\n with some bitterness.\n\n\n \"Lovely is the word for you.\n But forget that. If you're good—you'll\n get a drink afterwards.\"\n\n\n \"Will it be one of those occasions\n when you love me?\"\n\n\n \"If the moon turns blue.\"\n\n\n He strode to the front of the\n platform, an elephant gun swinging\n easily at his side, an easy\n grin radiating from his confident,\n rugged face. The cheers\n rose to a shrill fortissimo, but\n the grin did not vanish. What a\n great actor he really was, he told\n himself, to be able to pretend he\n liked this.\n\n\n An assistant curator of some\n collection in the zoo, a flustered\n old woman, was introducing him.\n There were a few laudatory references\n to his great talents as an\n actor, and he managed to look\n properly modest as he listened.\n The remarks about his knowledge\n of wild and ferocious beasts\n were a little harder to take, but\n he took them. Then the old\n woman stepped back, and he was\n facing his fate alone.\n\n\n \"Children,\" he began. A pause,\n a bashful grin. \"Perhaps I\n should rather say, my friends.\n I'm not one to think of you as\n children. Some people think of\n me as a child myself, because I\n like to hunt, and have adventures.\n They think that such\n things are childish. But if they\n are, I'm glad to be a child. I'm\n glad to be one of you. Yes, I\n think I\n will\n call you my friends.\n\n\n \"Perhaps you regard me, my\n friends, as a very lucky person.\n But when I recall some of the\n narrow escapes I have had, I\n don't agree with you. I remember\n once, when we were on the\n trail of a rogue elephant—\"\n\n\n He told the story of the rogue\n elephant, modestly granting a co-hero's\n role to his guide. Then\n another story illustrating the\n strange ways of lions. The elephant\n gun figured in still another\n tale, this time of a vicious\n rhinoceros. His audience was\n quiet now, breathless with interest,\n and he welcomed the respite\n from shrillness he had won\n for his ears.\n\n\n \"And now, my friends, it is\n time to say farewell.\" He actually\n looked sad and regretful.\n \"But it is my hope that I shall\n be able to see you again—\"\n\n\n Screams of exultation, shrill\n as ever, small hands beating\n enthusiastically to indicate joy.\n Thank God that's over with, he\n thought. Now for those drinks—and\n he didn't mean drink,\n singular. Talk of being useful,\n he'd certainly been useful now.\n He'd made those kids happy.\n What more can any reasonable\n person want?\nBut it wasn't over with. Another\n old lady had stepped up on\n the platform.\n\n\n \"Mr. George,\" she said, in a\n strangely affected voice, like that\n of the first dramatic teacher he\n had ever had, the one who had\n almost ruined his acting career.\n \"Mr. George, I can't tell you\n how happy you have made us all,\n young and old. Hasn't Mr.\n George made us happy, children?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, Miss Burton!\" came the\n shrill scream.\n\n\n \"And we feel that it would be\n no more than fair to repay you\n in some small measure for the\n pleasure you have given us.\n First, a 'Thank You' song by\n Frances Heller—\"\n\n\n He hadn't expected this, and\n he repressed a groan. Mercifully,\n the first song was short.\n He grinned the thanks he didn't\n feel. To think that he could take\n this, while sober as a judge!\n What strength of character,\n what will-power!\n\n\n Next, Miss Burton introduced\n another kid, who recited. And\n then, Miss Burton stood upright\n and recited herself.\n\n\n That was the worst of all. He\n winced once, then bore up. You\n can get used even to torture, he\n told himself. An adult making a\n fool of herself is always more\n painful than a kid. And that\n affected elocutionist's voice gave\n him the horrors. But he thanked\n her too. His good deed for the\n day. Maybe Carol would have\n him now, he thought.\n\n\n A voice shrilled, \"Miss Burton?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, dear?\"\n\n\n \"Aren't you going to call on\n Carolyn to act?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, yes, I was forgetting.\n Come up here, Carolyn, come up,\n Doris. Carolyn and Doris, Mr.\n George, are studying how to act.\n They act people\n and\n animals.\n Who knows? Some day they, too,\n may be in the movies, just as you\n are, Mr. George. Wouldn't that\n be nice, children?\"\n\n\n What the devil do you do in a\n case like that? You grin, of\n course—but what do you say,\n without handing over your soul\n to the devil? Agree how nice it\n would be to have those sly little\n brats with faces magnified on\n every screen all over the country?\n Like hell you do.\n\n\n \"Now, what are we going to\n act, children?\"\n\n\n \"Please, Miss Burton,\" said\n Doris. \"I don't know how to act.\n I can't even imitate a puppy.\n Really I can't, Miss Burton—\"\n\n\n \"Come, come, mustn't be shy.\n Your friend says that you act\n very nicely indeed. Can't want to\n go on the stage and still be shy.\n Now, do you know any movie\n scenes? Shirley Temple used to\n be a good little actress, I remember.\n Can you do any scenes that\n she does?\"\nThe silence was getting to be\n embarrassing. And Carol said he\n didn't amount to anything, he\n never did anything useful. Why,\n if thanks to his being here this\n afternoon, those kids lost the\n ambition to go on the stage, the\n whole human race would have\n cause to be grateful to him. To\n him, and to Miss Burton. She'd\n kill ambition in anybody.\n\n\n Miss Burton had an idea. \"I\n know what to do, children. If\n you can act animals—Mr. George\n has shown you what the hunter\n does; you show him what the\n lions do. Yes, Carolyn and Doris,\n you're going to be lions. You are\n waiting in your lairs, ready to\n pounce on the unwary hunter.\n Crouch now, behind that chair.\n Closer and closer he comes—you\n act it out, Mr. George, please,\n that's the way—ever closer, and\n now your muscles tighten for\n the spring, and you open\n your great, wide, red mouths\n in a great, great big roar—\"\n\n\n A deep and tremendous roar,\n as of thunder, crashed through\n the auditorium. A roar—and\n then, from the audience, an outburst\n of terrified screaming such\n as he had never heard. The\n bristles rose at the back of his\n neck, and his heart froze.\n\n\n Facing him across the platform\n were two lions, tensed as\n if to leap. Where they had come\n from he didn't know, but there\n they were, eyes glaring, manes\n ruffled, more terrifying than any\n he had seen in Africa. There\n they were, with the threat of\n death and destruction in their\n fierce eyes, and here he was,\n terror and helplessness on his\n handsome, manly, and bloodless\n face, heart unfrozen now and\n pounding fiercely, knees melting,\n hands—\n\n\n Hands clutching an elephant\n gun. The thought was like a director's\n command. With calm efficiency,\n with all the precision of\n an actor playing a scene rehearsed\n a thousand times, the\n gun leaped to his shoulder, and\n now its own roar thundered out\n a challenge to the roaring of the\n wild beasts, shouted at them in\n its own accents of barking\n thunder.\n\n\n The shrill screaming continued\n long after the echoes of the gun's\n speech had died away. Across\n the platform from him were two\n great bodies, the bodies of lions,\n and yet curiously unlike the\n beasts in some ways, now that\n they were dead and dissolving as\n if corroded by some invisible\n acid.\n\n\n Carol's hand was on his arm,\n Carol's thin and breathless voice\n shook as she said, \"A drink—all\n the drinks you want.\"\n\n\n \"One will do. And you.\"\n\n\n \"And me. I guess you're kind\n of—kind of useful after all.\"\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis e-text was produced from\n Space Science Fiction\n February 1953.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright\n on this publication was renewed.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is Manto and Palit's own language?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_1", "options": ["Pig-Latin", "Unknown", "Spanish", "English"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What other job does Miss Burton likely wish she had?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_2", "options": ["Teacher", "Agent", "Actor", "Zookeeper"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does George feel about little girls?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_3", "options": ["He likes children.", "He considers them friends.", "He considers himself like them.", "He thinks they're annoying."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where did the lions come from at the end?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_4", "options": ["They escaped from the zoo.", "There weren't really lions there at all.", "Manto and Palit turned into lions to kill George.", "Manto and Palit accidentally turned into lions."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is George's big fault?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_5", "options": ["He is not useful.", "He is not a good actor.", "He does not like kids.", "He drinks too much."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does George like Carol more than other women?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_6", "options": ["She swoons at his movies.", "She works for him.", "He doesn't.", "She stands up to him."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0033", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is it hard for George to give autographs?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_7", "options": ["He does not want to give autographs", "He is a drunk.", "It isn't hard for him to give autographs.", "He shakes from a fever in Africa."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How old is Carolyn?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_8", "options": ["Two", "Two hundred", "Twelve", "We don't know"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are Manto and Palit at the zoo?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_9", "options": ["They are lost.", "They are on a class trip.", "They are observing the animals.", "They are observing the girls."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who accidentally saved humanity from Manto and Palit?", "question_unique_id": "22524_O8TC9MBX_10", "options": ["George", "Miss Burton", "All of three people in different ways", "Carol"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/2/22524//22524-h//22524-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22579", "set_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Bread Overhead", "year": 1951, "author": "Leiber, Fritz", "topic": "Short stories; PS; Business -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "Bread\n\n Overhead\nBy FRITZ LEIBER\nThe Staff of Life suddenly and\n\n disconcertingly sprouted wings\n\n —and mankind had to eat crow!\nIllustrated by WOOD\nAS a blisteringly hot but\n guaranteed weather-controlled\n future summer day\n dawned on the Mississippi Valley,\n the walking mills of Puffy Products\n (\"Spike to Loaf in One\n Operation!\") began to tread delicately\n on their centipede legs\n across the wheat fields of Kansas.\n\n\n The walking mills resembled fat\n metal serpents, rather larger than\n those Chinese paper dragons animated\n by files of men in procession.\n Sensory robot devices in\n their noses informed them that\n the waiting wheat had reached ripe\n perfection.\n\n\n As they advanced, their heads\n swung lazily from side to side, very\n much like snakes, gobbling the yellow\n grain. In their throats, it was\n threshed, the chaff bundled and\n burped aside for pickup by the\n crawl trucks of a chemical corporation,\n the kernels quick-dried\n and blown along into the mighty\n chests of the machines. There the\n tireless mills ground the kernels\n to flour, which was instantly sifted,\n the bran being packaged and\n dropped like the chaff for pickup.\n A cluster of tanks which gave\n the metal serpents a decidedly\n humpbacked appearance added\n water, shortening, salt and other\n ingredients, some named and some\n not. The dough was at the same\n time infused with gas from a tank\n conspicuously labeled \"Carbon\n Dioxide\" (\"No Yeast Creatures\n in Your Bread!\").\n\n\n Thus instantly risen, the dough\n was clipped into loaves and shot\n into radionic ovens forming the\n midsections of the metal serpents.\n There the bread was baked in a\n matter of seconds, a fierce heat-front\n browning the crusts, and the\n piping-hot loaves sealed in transparent\n plastic bearing the proud\n Puffyloaf emblem (two cherubs\n circling a floating loaf) and ejected\n onto the delivery platform at each\n serpent's rear end, where a cluster\n of pickup machines, like hungry\n piglets, snatched at the loaves\n with hygienic claws.\n\n\n A few loaves would be hurried\n off for the day's consumption,\n the majority stored for winter in\n strategically located mammoth\n deep freezes.\n\n\n But now, behold a wonder! As\n loaves began to appear on the\n delivery platform of the first walking\n mill to get into action, they\n did not linger on the conveyor\n belt, but rose gently into the air\n and slowly traveled off down-wind\n across the hot rippling fields.\nTHE robot claws of the pickup\n machines clutched in vain, and,\n not noticing the difference, proceeded\n carefully to stack emptiness,\n tier by tier. One errant loaf,\n rising more sluggishly than its fellows,\n was snagged by a thrusting\n claw. The machine paused, clumsily\n wiped off the injured loaf, set\n it aside—where it bobbed on one\n corner, unable to take off again—and\n went back to the work of\n storing nothingness.\n\n\n A flock of crows rose from the\n trees of a nearby shelterbelt as the\n flight of loaves approached. The\n crows swooped to investigate and\n then suddenly scattered, screeching\n in panic.\n\n\n The helicopter of a hangoverish\n Sunday traveler bound for Wichita\n shied very similarly from the\n brown fliers and did not return for\n a second look.\n\n\n A black-haired housewife spied\n them over her back fence, crossed\n herself and grabbed her walkie-talkie\n from the laundry basket.\n Seconds later, the yawning correspondent\n of a regional newspaper\n was jotting down the lead of a humorous\n news story which, recalling\n the old flying-saucer scares, stated\n that now apparently bread was to\n be included in the mad aerial tea\n party.\n\n\n The congregation of an open-walled\n country church, standing\n up to recite the most familiar of\n Christian prayers, had just reached\n the petition for daily sustenance,\n when a sub-flight of the loaves,\n either forced down by a vagrant\n wind or lacking the natural buoyancy\n of the rest, came coasting silently\n as the sunbeams between the\n graceful pillars at the altar end of\n the building.\n\n\n Meanwhile, the main flight, now\n augmented by other bread flocks\n from scores and hundreds of walking\n mills that had started work a\n little later, mounted slowly and\n majestically into the cirrus-flecked\n upper air, where a steady\n wind was blowing strongly toward\n the east.\n\n\n About one thousand miles farther\n on in that direction, where a cluster\n of stratosphere-tickling towers\n marked the location of the metropolis\n of NewNew York, a tender\n scene was being enacted in the\n pressurized penthouse managerial\n suite of Puffy Products. Megera\n Winterly, Secretary in Chief to the\n Managerial Board and referred to\n by her underlings as the Blonde\n Icicle, was dealing with the advances\n of Roger (\"Racehorse\")\n Snedden, Assistant Secretary to the\n Board and often indistinguishable\n from any passing office boy.\n\n\n \"Why don't you jump out the\n window, Roger, remembering to\n shut the airlock after you?\" the\n Golden Glacier said in tones not\n unkind. \"When are your high-strung,\n thoroughbred nerves going\n to accept the fact that I would\n never consider marriage with a\n business inferior? You have about\n as much chance as a starving\n Ukrainian kulak now that Moscow's\n clapped on the interdict.\"\nROGER'S voice was calm, although\n his eyes were feverishly\n bright, as he replied, \"A lot\n of things are going to be different\n around here, Meg, as soon as the\n Board is forced to admit that only\n my quick thinking made it possible\n to bring the name of Puffyloaf in\n front of the whole world.\"\n\n\n \"Puffyloaf could do with a little\n of that,\" the business girl observed\n judiciously. \"The way sales have\n been plummeting, it won't be long\n before the Government deeds our\n desks to the managers of Fairy\n Bread and asks us to take the Big\n Jump. But just where does your\n quick thinking come into this, Mr.\n Snedden? You can't be referring to\n the helium—that was Rose Thinker's\n brainwave.\"\n\n\n She studied him suspiciously.\n \"You've birthed another promotional\n bumble, Roger. I can see it\n in your eyes. I only hope it's not\n as big a one as when you put the\n Martian ambassador on 3D and he\n thanked you profusely for the gross\n of Puffyloaves, assuring you that\n he'd never slept on a softer mattress\n in all his life on two planets.\"\n\n\n \"Listen to me, Meg. Today—yes,\n today!—you're going to see\n the Board eating out of my hand.\"\n\n\n \"Hah! I guarantee you won't\n have any fingers left. You're bold\n enough now, but when Mr. Gryce\n and those two big machines come\n through that door—\"\n\n\n \"Now wait a minute, Meg—\"\n\n\n \"Hush! They're coming now!\"\n\n\n Roger leaped three feet in the\n air, but managed to land without a\n sound and edged toward his stool.\n Through the dilating iris of the\n door strode Phineas T. Gryce,\n flanked by Rose Thinker and Tin\n Philosopher.\n\n\n The man approached the conference\n table in the center of the room\n with measured pace and gravely\n expressionless face. The rose-tinted\n machine on his left did a couple\n of impulsive pirouettes on the way\n and twittered a greeting to Meg\n and Roger. The other machine quietly\n took the third of the high seats\n and lifted a claw at Meg, who now\n occupied a stool twice the height of\n Roger's.\n\n\n \"Miss Winterly, please—our\n theme.\"\n\n\n The Blonde Icicle's face thawed\n into a little-girl smile as she chanted\n bubblingly:\n\n\"\nMade up of tiny wheaten motes\nAnd reinforced with sturdy oats,\nIt rises through the air and floats—\nThe bread on which all Terra dotes!\n\"\n\"THANK YOU, Miss Winterly,\"\n said Tin Philosopher.\n \"Though a purely figurative statement,\n that bit about rising through\n the air always gets me—here.\" He\n rapped his midsection, which gave\n off a high musical\nclang\n.\n\n\n \"Ladies—\" he inclined his photocells\n toward Rose Thinker and Meg—\"and\n gentlemen. This is a historic\n occasion in Old Puffy's long history,\n the inauguration of the helium-filled\n loaf ('So Light It Almost Floats\n Away!') in which that inert and\n heaven-aspiring gas replaces old-fashioned\n carbon dioxide. Later,\n there will be kudos for Rose\n Thinker, whose bright relays genius-sparked\n the idea, and also for Roger\n Snedden, who took care of the\n details.\n\n\n \"By the by, Racehorse, that was\n a brilliant piece of work getting the\n helium out of the government—they've\n been pretty stuffy lately\n about their monopoly. But first I\n want to throw wide the casement in\n your minds that opens on the Long\n View of Things.\"\n\n\n Rose Thinker spun twice on her\n chair and opened her photocells\n wide. Tin Philosopher coughed to\n limber up the diaphragm of his\n speaker and continued:\n\n\n \"Ever since the first cave wife\n boasted to her next-den neighbor\n about the superior paleness and fluffiness\n of her tortillas, mankind has\n sought lighter, whiter bread. Indeed,\n thinkers wiser than myself have\n equated the whole upward course of\n culture with this poignant quest.\n Yeast was a wonderful discovery—for\n its primitive day. Sifting the\n bran and wheat germ from the flour\n was an even more important advance.\n Early bleaching and preserving\n chemicals played their humble\n parts.\n\n\n \"For a while, barbarous faddists—blind\n to the deeply spiritual nature\n of bread, which is recognized\n by all great religions—held back\n our march toward perfection with\n their hair-splitting insistence on the\n vitamin content of the wheat germ,\n but their case collapsed when tasteless\n colorless substitutes were\n triumphantly synthesized and introduced\n into the loaf, which for flawless\n purity, unequaled airiness and\n sheer intangible goodness was rapidly\n becoming mankind's supreme\n gustatory experience.\"\n\n\n \"I wonder what the stuff tastes\n like,\" Rose Thinker said out of a\n clear sky.\n\n\n \"I wonder what taste tastes like,\"\n Tin Philosopher echoed dreamily.\n Recovering himself, he continued:\n\n\n \"Then, early in the twenty-first\n century, came the epochal researches\n of Everett Whitehead,\n Puffyloaf chemist, culminating in\n his paper 'The Structural Bubble\n in Cereal Masses' and making possible\n the baking of airtight bread\n twenty times stronger (for its\n weight) than steel and of a\n lightness that would have been\n incredible even to the advanced\n chemist-bakers of the twentieth\n century—a lightness so great that,\n besides forming the backbone of\n our own promotion, it has forever\n since been capitalized on by our\n conscienceless competitors of Fairy\n Bread with their enduring slogan:\n 'It Makes Ghost Toast'.\"\n\n\n \"That's a beaut, all right, that\n ecto-dough blurb,\" Rose Thinker\n admitted, bugging her photocells\n sadly. \"Wait a sec. How about?—\n\n\"\nThere'll be bread\nOverhead\nWhen you're dead—\nIt is said.\n\"\nPHINEAS T. GRYCE wrinkled\n his nostrils at the pink machine\n as if he smelled her insulation\n smoldering. He said mildly, \"A\n somewhat unhappy jingle, Rose,\n referring as it does to the end of\n the customer as consumer. Moreover,\n we shouldn't overplay the\n figurative 'rises through the air'\n angle. What inspired you?\"\n\n\n She shrugged. \"I don't know—oh,\n yes, I do. I was remembering\n one of the workers' songs we machines\n used to chant during the Big\n Strike—\n\n\"\nWork and pray,\nLive on hay.\nYou'll get pie\nIn the sky\nWhen you die—\nIt's a lie!\n\"I don't know why we chanted\n it,\" she added. \"We didn't want pie—or\n hay, for that matter. And\n machines don't pray, except Tibetan\n prayer wheels.\"\n\n\n Phineas T. Gryce shook his head.\n \"Labor relations are another topic\n we should stay far away from.\n However, dear Rose, I'm glad you\n keep trying to outjingle those dirty\n crooks at Fairy Bread.\" He scowled,\n turning back his attention to Tin\n Philosopher. \"I get whopping mad,\n Old Machine, whenever I hear that\n other slogan of theirs, the discriminatory\n one—'Untouched by Robot\n Claws.' Just because they employ a\n few filthy androids in their factories!\"\n\n\n Tin Philosopher lifted one of his\n own sets of bright talons. \"Thanks,\n P.T. But to continue my historical\n resume, the next great advance in\n the baking art was the substitution\n of purified carbon dioxide, recovered\n from coal smoke, for the gas\n generated by yeast organisms indwelling\n in the dough and later\n killed by the heat of baking, their\n corpses remaining\nin situ\n. But even\n purified carbon dioxide is itself a\n rather repugnant gas, a product of\n metabolism whether fast or slow,\n and forever associated with those\n life processes which are obnoxious\n to the fastidious.\"\n\n\n Here the machine shuddered\n with delicate clinkings. \"Therefore,\n we of Puffyloaf are taking today\n what may be the ultimate step\n toward purity: we are aerating our\n loaves with the noble gas helium,\n an element which remains virginal\n in the face of all chemical temptations\n and whose slim molecules are\n eleven times lighter than obese\n carbon dioxide—yes, noble uncontaminable\n helium, which, if it be a\n kind of ash, is yet the ash only of\n radioactive burning, accomplished\n or initiated entirely on the Sun, a\n safe 93 million miles from this\n planet. Let's have a cheer for the\n helium loaf!\"\nWITHOUT changing expression,\n Phineas T. Gryce rapped\n the table thrice in solemn applause,\n while the others bowed their heads.\n\n\n \"Thanks, T.P.,\" P.T. then said.\n \"And now for the Moment of\n Truth. Miss Winterly, how is the\n helium loaf selling?\"\n\n\n The business girl clapped on a\n pair of earphones and whispered\n into a lapel mike. Her gaze grew\n abstracted as she mentally translated\n flurries of brief squawks into\n coherent messages. Suddenly a single\n vertical furrow creased her\n matchlessly smooth brow.\n\n\n \"It isn't, Mr. Gryce!\" she gasped\n in horror. \"Fairy Bread is outselling\n Puffyloaves by an infinity factor.\n So far this morning,\nthere has\n not been one single delivery of\n Puffyloaves to any sales spot\n! Complaints\n about non-delivery are pouring\n in from both walking stores and\n sessile shops.\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Snedden!\" Gryce barked.\n \"What bug in the new helium\n process might account for this\n delay?\"\n\n\n Roger was on his feet, looking\n bewildered. \"I can't imagine, sir,\n unless—just possibly—there's\n been some unforeseeable difficulty\n involving the new metal-foil wrappers.\"\n\n\n \"Metal-foil wrappers? Were\nyou\nresponsible for those?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. Last-minute recalculations\n showed that the extra lightness\n of the new loaf might be great\n enough to cause drift during stackage.\n Drafts in stores might topple\n sales pyramids. Metal-foil wrappers,\n by their added weight, took\n care of the difficulty.\"\n\n\n \"And you ordered them without\n consulting the Board?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. There was hardly time\n and—\"\n\n\n \"Why, you fool! I noticed that\n order for metal-foil wrappers, assumed\n it was some sub-secretary's\n mistake, and canceled it last night!\"\n\n\n Roger Snedden turned pale.\n \"You canceled it?\" he quavered.\n \"And told them to go back to the\n lighter plastic wrappers?\"\n\n\n \"Of course! Just what is behind\n all this, Mr. Snedden?\nWhat\nrecalculations\n were you trusting, when\n our physicists had demonstrated\n months ago that the helium loaf\n was safely stackable in light airs\n and gentle breezes—winds up to\n Beaufort's scale 3.\nWhy\nshould a\n change from heavier to lighter\n wrappers result in complete non-delivery?\"\nROGER Snedden's paleness became\n tinged with an interesting\n green. He cleared his throat\n and made strange gulping noises.\n Tin Philosopher's photocells focused\n on him calmly, Rose\n Thinker's with unfeigned excitement.\n P.T. Gryce's frown grew\n blacker by the moment, while\n Megera Winterly's Venus-mask\n showed an odd dawning of dismay\n and awe. She was getting new\n squawks in her earphones.\n\n\n \"Er ... ah ... er....\" Roger\n said in winning tones. \"Well, you\n see, the fact is that I....\"\n\n\n \"Hold it,\" Meg interrupted\n crisply. \"Triple-urgent from Public\n Relations, Safety Division. Tulsa-Topeka\n aero-express makes emergency\n landing after being buffeted\n in encounter with vast flight of\n objects first described as brown\n birds, although no failures reported\n in airway's electronic anti-bird\n fences. After grounding safely near\n Emporia—no fatalities—pilot's\n windshield found thinly plastered\n with soft white-and-brown material.\n Emblems on plastic wrappers embedded\n in material identify it incontrovertibly\n as an undetermined\n number of Puffyloaves cruising at\n three thousand feet!\"\n\n\n Eyes and photocells turned inquisitorially\n upon Roger Snedden.\n He went from green to Puffyloaf\n white and blurted: \"All right, I did\n it, but it was the only way out!\n Yesterday morning, due to the\n Ukrainian crisis, the government\n stopped sales and deliveries of all\n strategic stockpiled materials, including\n helium gas. Puffy's new\n program of advertising and promotion,\n based on the lighter loaf, was\n already rolling. There was only one\n thing to do, there being only one\n other gas comparable in lightness\n to helium. I diverted the necessary\n quantity of hydrogen gas from the\n Hydrogenated Oils Section of our\n Magna-Margarine Division and\n substituted it for the helium.\"\n\n\n \"You substituted ... hydrogen ... for\n the ... helium?\" Phineas\n T. Gryce faltered in low mechanical\n tones, taking four steps backward.\n\n\n \"Hydrogen is twice as light as\n helium,\" Tin Philosopher remarked\n judiciously.\n\n\n \"And many times cheaper—did\n you know that?\" Roger countered\n feebly. \"Yes, I substituted hydrogen.\n The metal-foil wrapping would\n have added just enough weight to\n counteract the greater buoyancy of\n the hydrogen loaf. But—\"\n\n\n \"So, when this morning's loaves\n began to arrive on the delivery\n platforms of the walking mills....\"\n Tin Philosopher left the remark\n unfinished.\n\n\n \"Exactly,\" Roger agreed dismally.\n\n\n \"Let me ask you, Mr. Snedden,\"\n Gryce interjected, still in low tones,\n \"if you expected people to jump to\n the kitchen ceiling for their Puffybread\n after taking off the metal\n wrapper, or reach for the sky if\n they happened to unwrap the stuff\n outdoors?\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Gryce,\" Roger said reproachfully,\n \"you have often assured\n me that what people do with\n Puffybread after they buy it is no\n concern of ours.\"\n\n\n \"I seem to recall,\" Rose Thinker\n chirped somewhat unkindly, \"that\n dictum was created to answer inquiries\n after Roger put the famous\n sculptures-in-miniature artist on 3D\n and he testified that he always\n molded his first attempts from\n Puffybread, one jumbo loaf squeezing\n down to approximately the size\n of a peanut.\"\nHER photocells dimmed and\n brightened. \"Oh, boy—hydrogen!\n The loaf's unwrapped. After\n a while, in spite of the crust-seal, a\n little oxygen diffuses in. An explosive\n mixture. Housewife in curlers\n and kimono pops a couple slices in\n the toaster. Boom!\"\n\n\n The three human beings in the\n room winced.\n\n\n Tin Philosopher kicked her under\n the table, while observing, \"So\n you see, Roger, that the non-delivery\n of the hydrogen loaf carries\n some consolations. And I must confess\n that one aspect of the affair\n gives me great satisfaction, not as a\n Board Member but as a private\n machine. You have at last made a\n reality of the 'rises through the air'\n part of Puffybread's theme. They\n can't ever take that away from you.\n By now, half the inhabitants of the\n Great Plains must have observed\n our flying loaves rising high.\"\n\n\n Phineas T. Gryce shot a frightened\n look at the west windows and\n found his full voice.\n\n\n \"Stop the mills!\" he roared at\n Meg Winterly, who nodded and\n whispered urgently into her mike.\n\n\n \"A sensible suggestion,\" Tin\n Philosopher said. \"But it comes a\n trifle late in the day. If the mills\n are still walking and grinding, approximately\n seven billion Puffyloaves\n are at this moment cruising\n eastward over Middle America.\n Remember that a six-month supply\n for deep-freeze is involved and that\n the current consumption of bread,\n due to its matchless airiness, is\n eight and one-half loaves per person\n per day.\"\n\n\n Phineas T. Gryce carefully inserted\n both hands into his scanty\n hair, feeling for a good grip. He\n leaned menacingly toward Roger\n who, chin resting on the table, regarded\n him apathetically.\n\n\n \"Hold it!\" Meg called sharply.\n \"Flock of multiple-urgents coming\n in. News Liaison: information bureaus\n swamped with flying-bread\n inquiries. Aero-expresslines: Clear\n our airways or face law suit. U. S.\n Army: Why do loaves flame when\n hit by incendiary bullets? U. S.\n Customs: If bread intended for\n export, get export license or face\n prosecution. Russian Consulate in\n Chicago: Advise on destination of\n bread-lift. And some Kansas church\n is accusing us of a hoax inciting to\n blasphemy, of faking miracles—I\n don't know\nwhy\n.\"\n\n\n The business girl tore off her\n headphones. \"Roger Snedden,\" she\n cried with a hysteria that would\n have dumfounded her underlings,\n \"you've brought the name of Puffyloaf\n in front of the whole world, all\n right! Now do something about the\n situation!\"\n\n\n Roger nodded obediently. But\n his pallor increased a shade, the\n pupils of his eyes disappeared under\n the upper lids, and his head\n burrowed beneath his forearms.\n\n\n \"Oh, boy,\" Rose Thinker called\n gayly to Tin Philosopher, \"this\n looks like the start of a real crisis\n session! Did you remember to\n bring spare batteries?\"\nMEANWHILE, the monstrous\n flight of Puffyloaves, filling\n midwestern skies as no small fliers\n had since the days of the passenger\n pigeon, soared steadily onward.\n\n\n Private fliers approached the\n brown and glistening bread-front in\n curiosity and dipped back in awe.\n Aero-expresslines organized sightseeing\n flights along the flanks.\n Planes of the government forestry\n and agricultural services and 'copters\n bearing the Puffyloaf emblem\n hovered on the fringes, watching\n developments and waiting for orders.\n A squadron of supersonic\n fighters hung menacingly above.\n\n\n The behavior of birds varied\n considerably. Most fled or gave the\n loaves a wide berth, but some\n bolder species, discovering the minimal\n nutritive nature of the translucent\n brown objects, attacked\n them furiously with beaks and\n claws. Hydrogen diffusing slowly\n through the crusts had now distended\n most of the sealed plastic\n wrappers into little balloons, which\n ruptured, when pierced, with disconcerting\npops\n.\n\n\n Below, neck-craning citizens\n crowded streets and back yards,\n cranks and cultists had a field day,\n while local and national governments\n raged indiscriminately at\n Puffyloaf and at each other.\n\n\n Rumors that a fusion weapon\n would be exploded in the midst of\n the flying bread drew angry protests\n from conservationists and a flood\n of telefax pamphlets titled \"H-Loaf\n or H-bomb?\"\n\n\n Stockholm sent a mystifying\n note of praise to the United Nations\n Food Organization.\n\n\n Delhi issued nervous denials of a\n millet blight that no one had heard\n of until that moment and reaffirmed\n India's ability to feed her\n population with no outside help\n except the usual.\n\n\n Radio Moscow asserted that the\n Kremlin would brook no interference\n in its treatment of the Ukrainians,\n jokingly referred to the flying\n bread as a farce perpetrated by\n mad internationalists inhabiting\n Cloud Cuckoo Land, added contradictory\n references to airborne\n bread booby-trapped by Capitalist\n gangsters, and then fell moodily\n silent on the whole topic.\n\n\n Radio Venus reported to its\n winged audience that Earth's\n inhabitants were establishing food\n depots in the upper air, preparatory\n to taking up permanent aerial\n residence \"such as we have always\n enjoyed on Venus.\"\nNEWNEW YORK made feverish\n preparations for the passage\n of the flying bread. Tickets\n for sightseeing space in skyscrapers\n were sold at high prices; cold meats\n and potted spreads were hawked to\n viewers with the assurance that\n they would be able to snag the\n bread out of the air and enjoy a\n historic sandwich.\n\n\n Phineas T. Gryce, escaping from\n his own managerial suite, raged\n about the city, demanding general\n cooperation in the stretching of\n great nets between the skyscrapers\n to trap the errant loaves. He was\n captured by Tin Philosopher, escaped\n again, and was found posted\n with oxygen mask and submachine gun\n on the topmost spire of Puffyloaf\n Tower, apparently determined\n to shoot down the loaves as they\n appeared and before they involved\n his company in more trouble with\n Customs and the State Department.\n\n\n Recaptured by Tin Philosopher,\n who suffered only minor bullet\n holes, he was given a series of mild\n electroshocks and returned to the\n conference table, calm and clear-headed\n as ever.\n\n\n But the bread flight, swinging\n away from a hurricane moving up\n the Atlantic coast, crossed a\n clouded-in Boston by night and\n disappeared into a high Atlantic\n overcast, also thereby evading a\n local storm generated by the\n Weather Department in a last-minute\n effort to bring down or at\n least disperse the H-loaves.\n\n\n Warnings and counterwarnings\n by Communist and Capitalist governments\n seriously interfered with\n military trailing of the flight during\n this period and it was actually\n lost in touch with for several days.\n\n\n At scattered points, seagulls were\n observed fighting over individual\n loaves floating down from the gray\n roof—that was all.\n\n\n A mood of spirituality strongly\n tinged with humor seized the people\n of the world. Ministers sermonized\n about the bread, variously\n interpreting it as a call to charity,\n a warning against gluttony, a parable\n of the evanescence of all\n earthly things, and a divine joke.\n Husbands and wives, facing each\n other across their walls of breakfast\n toast, burst into laughter. The\n mere sight of a loaf of bread anywhere\n was enough to evoke guffaws.\n An obscure sect, having as\n part of its creed the injunction\n \"Don't take yourself so damn seriously,\"\n won new adherents.\n\n\n The bread flight, rising above an\n Atlantic storm widely reported to\n have destroyed it, passed unobserved\n across a foggy England and\n rose out of the overcast only over\n Mittel-europa. The loaves had at\n last reached their maximum altitude.\n\n\n The Sun's rays beat through the\n rarified air on the distended plastic\n wrappers, increasing still further\n the pressure of the confined hydrogen.\n They burst by the millions\n and tens of millions. A high-flying\n Bulgarian evangelist, who had happened\n to mistake the up-lever for\n the east-lever in the cockpit of his\n flier and who was the sole witness\n of the event, afterward described it\n as \"the foaming of a sea of diamonds,\n the crackle of God's\n knuckles.\"\nBY THE millions and tens of\n millions, the loaves coasted\n down into the starving Ukraine.\n Shaken by a week of humor that\n threatened to invade even its own\n grim precincts, the Kremlin made\n a sudden about-face. A new policy\n was instituted of communal ownership\n of the produce of communal\n farms, and teams of hunger-fighters\n and caravans of trucks loaded with\n pumpernickel were dispatched into\n the Ukraine.\n\n\n World distribution was given to\n a series of photographs showing\n peasants queueing up to trade scavenged\n Puffyloaves for traditional\n black bread, recently aerated itself\n but still extra solid by comparison,\n the rate of exchange demanded by\n the Moscow teams being twenty\n Puffyloaves to one of pumpernickel.\n\n\n Another series of photographs,\n picturing chubby workers' children\n being blown to bits by booby-trapped\n bread, was quietly destroyed.\n\n\n Congratulatory notes were exchanged\n by various national governments\n and world organizations,\n including the Brotherhood of Free\n Business Machines. The great\n bread flight was over, though for\n several weeks afterward scattered\n falls of loaves occurred, giving rise\n to a new folklore of manna among\n lonely Arabian tribesmen, and in\n one well-authenticated instance in\n Tibet, sustaining life in a party of\n mountaineers cut off by a snow\n slide.\n\n\n Back in NewNew York, the\n managerial board of Puffy Products\n slumped in utter collapse\n around the conference table, the\n long crisis session at last ended.\n Empty coffee cartons were scattered\n around the chairs of the three\n humans, dead batteries around\n those of the two machines. For a\n while, there was no movement\n whatsoever. Then Roger Snedden\n reached out wearily for the earphones\n where Megera Winterly\n had hurled them down, adjusted\n them to his head, pushed a button\n and listened apathetically.\n\n\n After a bit, his gaze brightened.\n He pushed more buttons and listened\n more eagerly. Soon he was\n sitting tensely upright on his stool,\n eyes bright and lower face all\n a-smile, muttering terse comments\n and questions into the lapel mike\n torn from Meg's fair neck.\n\n\n The others, reviving, watched\n him, at first dully, then with quickening\n interest, especially when he\n jerked off the earphones with a\n happy shout and sprang to his feet.\n\"LISTEN to this!\" he cried in\n a ringing voice. \"As a result\n of the worldwide publicity, Puffyloaves\n are outselling Fairy Bread\n three to one—and that's just the\n old carbon-dioxide stock from our\n freezers! It's almost exhausted, but\n the government, now that the\n Ukrainian crisis is over, has taken\n the ban off helium and will also\n sell us stockpiled wheat if we need\n it. We can have our walking mills\n burrowing into the wheat caves in\n a matter of hours!\n\n\n \"But that isn't all! The far\n greater demand everywhere is for\n Puffyloaves that will actually float.\n Public Relations, Child Liaison\n Division, reports that the kiddies\n are making their mothers' lives\n miserable about it. If only we can\n figure out some way to make\n hydrogen non-explosive or the\n helium loaf float just a little—\"\n\n\n \"I'm sure we can take care of\n that quite handily,\" Tin Philosopher\n interrupted briskly. \"Puffyloaf\n has kept it a corporation secret—even\n you've never been told\n about it—but just before he went\n crazy, Everett Whitehead discovered\n a way to make bread using\n only half as much flour as we do in\n the present loaf. Using this secret\n technique, which we've been saving\n for just such an emergency, it will\n be possible to bake a helium loaf as\n buoyant in every respect as the\n hydrogen loaf.\"\n\n\n \"Good!\" Roger cried. \"We'll\n tether 'em on strings and sell 'em\n like balloons. No mother-child\n shopping team will leave the store\n without a cluster. Buying bread\n balloons will be the big event of\n the day for kiddies. It'll make the\n carry-home shopping load lighter\n too! I'll issue orders at once—\"\nHE broke off, looking at Phineas\n T. Gryce, said with quiet\n assurance, \"Excuse me, sir, if I\n seem to be taking too much upon\n myself.\"\n\n\n \"Not at all, son; go straight\n ahead,\" the great manager said approvingly.\n \"You're\"—he laughed\n in anticipation of getting off a\n memorable remark—\"rising to the\n challenging situation like a genuine\n Puffyloaf.\"\n\n\n Megera Winterly looked from\n the older man to the younger.\n Then in a single leap she was upon\n Roger, her arms wrapped tightly\n around him.\n\n\n \"My sweet little ever-victorious,\n self-propelled monkey wrench!\" she\n crooned in his ear. Roger looked\n fatuously over her soft shoulder at\n Tin Philosopher who, as if moved\n by some similar feeling, reached\n over and touched claws with Rose\n Thinker.\n\n\n This, however, was what he telegraphed\n silently to his fellow machine\n across the circuit so completed:\n\n\n \"Good-o, Rosie! That makes another\n victory for robot-engineered\n world unity, though you almost\n gave us away at the start with that\n 'bread overhead' jingle. We've\n struck another blow against the\n next world war, in which—as we\n know only too well!—we machines\n would suffer the most. Now if we\n can only arrange, say, a fur-famine\n in Alaska and a migration of long-haired\n Siberian lemmings across\n Behring Straits ... we'd have to\n swing the Japanese Current up\n there so it'd be warm enough for\n the little fellows.... Anyhow,\n Rosie, with a spot of help from the\n Brotherhood, those humans will\n paint themselves into the peace\n corner yet.\"\n\n\n Meanwhile, he and Rose Thinker\n quietly watched the Blonde Icicle\n melt.\n—FRITZ LEIBER\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nGalaxy\nFebruary 1958. Extensive\n research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on\n this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and typographical errors\n have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What do the robots want?", "question_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0_1", "options": ["To sell bread", "To create world peace", "To improve bread chemistry", "To please humans"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is NOT a response to the flying bread loaves?", "question_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0_2", "options": ["Treating them as a spiritual sign", "Laughing at them", "Worker strikes", "Shooting them"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why does Tin Philosopher tell the history of bread?", "question_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0_3", "options": ["He wants to show how important bread has been to humanity.", "He wants to explain the importance of a new development in bread science.", "He wants to fill time until they find out how well the helium loaves are selling.", "He wants to explain how important robot workers are to the process."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following best describes how the robots feel toward humans?", "question_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0_4", "options": ["Neutral", "Resentful", "Proud", "Protective"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of these words best describes the tone of this story?", "question_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0_5", "options": ["Serious", "Humorous", "Suspenseful", "Romantic"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the Blonde Icicle melt?", "question_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0_6", "options": ["She saw value where she didn't see it before.", "She was so happy about how much money they would make.", "She sang the theme for Puffy Products.", "She stopped being angry about the floating bread."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following is NOT a process of the walking mills?", "question_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0_7", "options": ["Baking the bread", "Separating the wheat from the chaff", "Eating the grain", "Shipping the bread"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What do the robots wish they could experience?", "question_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0_8", "options": ["Caffeine", "Touch", "Love", "Taste"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0041", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Was the flying bread good or bad?", "question_unique_id": "22579_U2JO4GD0_9", "options": ["It was bad because it wasted tons of grain.", "It was good because it alleviated tension.", "It was bad because it created many dangerous situations.", "It was good because it ended hunger all over the world."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/5/7/22579//22579-h//22579-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22958", "set_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "One-Shot", "year": 1966, "author": "Blish, James", "topic": "PS; Science fiction; Short stories", "article": "ONE-SHOT\nYou\n can do a great deal if\n you have enough data, and\n enough time to compute on it,\n by logical methods. But given\n the situation that neither data\n nor time is adequate, and an\n answer must be produced ...\n what do you do?\nBY JAMES BLISH\nIllustrated by van Dongen\n\n\n On the day that the Polish freighter\nLudmilla\nlaid an egg in New\n York harbor, Abner Longmans\n (\"One-Shot\") Braun was in the city\n going about his normal business,\n which was making another million\n dollars. As we found out later, almost\n nothing else was normal about\n that particular week end for Braun.\n For one thing, he had brought his\n family with him—a complete departure\n from routine—reflecting the unprecedentedly\n legitimate nature of\n the deals he was trying to make.\n From every point of view it was a\n bad week end for the CIA to mix\n into his affairs, but nobody had explained\n that to the master of the\nLudmilla\n.\n\n\n I had better add here that we\n knew nothing about this until afterward;\n from the point of view of the\n storyteller, an organization like Civilian\n Intelligence Associates gets to\n all its facts backwards, entering the\n tale at the pay-off, working back to\n the hook, and winding up with a\n sheaf of background facts to feed\n into the computer for Next Time. It's\n rough on the various people who've\n tried to fictionalize what we do—particularly\n for the lazy examples of\n the breed, who come to us expecting\n that their plotting has already been\n done for them—but it's inherent in\n the way we operate, and there it is.\n\n\n Certainly nobody at CIA so much\n as thought of Braun when the news\n first came through. Harry Anderton,\n the Harbor Defense chief, called us\n at 0830 Friday to take on the job of\n identifying the egg; this was when\n our records show us officially entering\n the affair, but, of course, Anderton\n had been keeping the wires to\n Washington steaming for an hour before\n that, getting authorization to\n spend some of his money on us (our\n clearance status was then and is now\n C&R—clean and routine).\n\n\n I was in the central office when\n the call came through, and had some\n difficulty in making out precisely\n what Anderton wanted of us. \"Slow\n down, Colonel Anderton, please,\" I\n begged him. \"Two or three seconds\n won't make that much difference.\n How did you find out about this egg\n in the first place?\"\n\n\n \"The automatic compartment bulkheads\n on the\nLudmilla\nwere defective,\"\n he said. \"It seems that this\n egg was buried among a lot of other\n crates in the dump-cell of the\n hold—\"\n\n\n \"What's a dump cell?\"\n\n\n \"It's a sea lock for getting rid of\n dangerous cargo. The bottom of it\n opens right to Davy Jones. Standard\n fitting for ships carrying explosives,\n radioactives, anything that might act\n up unexpectedly.\"\n\n\n \"All right,\" I said. \"Go ahead.\"\n\n\n \"Well, there was a timer on the\n dump-cell floor, set to drop the egg\n when the ship came up the river.\n That worked fine, but the automatic\n bulkheads that are supposed to keep\n the rest of the ship from being flooded\n while the cell's open, didn't. At\n least they didn't do a thorough job.\n The\nLudmilla\nbegan to list and the\n captain yelled for help. When the\n Harbor Patrol found the dump-cell\n open, they called us in.\"\n\n\n \"I see.\" I thought about it a moment.\n \"In other words, you don't\n know whether the\nLudmilla\nreally\n laid an egg or not.\"\n\n\n \"That's what I keep trying to explain\n to you, Dr. Harris. We don't\n know what she dropped and we\n haven't any way of finding out. It\n could be a bomb—it could be anything.\n We're sweating everybody on\n board the ship now, but it's my guess\n that none of them know anything;\n the whole procedure was designed to\n be automatic.\"\n\n\n \"All right, we'll take it,\" I said.\n \"You've got divers down?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, but—\"\n\n\n \"We'll worry about the buts from\n here on. Get us a direct line from\n your barge to the big board here so\n we can direct the work. Better get\n on over here yourself.\"\n\n\n \"Right.\" He sounded relieved.\n Official people have a lot of confidence\n in CIA; too much, in my estimation.\n Some day the job will come\n along that we can't handle, and then\n Washington will be kicking itself—or,\n more likely, some scapegoat—for\n having failed to develop a comparable\n government department.\n\n\n Not that there was much prospect\n of Washington's doing that. Official\n thinking had been running in the\n other direction for years. The precedent\n was the Associated Universities\n organization which ran Brookhaven;\n CIA had been started the same way,\n by a loose corporation of universities\n and industries all of which had\n wanted to own an ULTIMAC and\n no one of which had had the money\n to buy one for itself. The Eisenhower\n administration, with its emphasis\n on private enterprise and concomitant\n reluctance to sink federal\n funds into projects of such size, had\n turned the two examples into a nice\n fat trend, which ULTIMAC herself\n said wasn't going to be reversed\n within the practicable lifetime of\n CIA.\nI buzzed for two staffers, and in\n five minutes got Clark Cheyney and\n Joan Hadamard, CIA's business manager\n and social science division chief\n respectively. The titles were almost\n solely for the benefit of the T/O—that\n is, Clark and Joan do serve in\n those capacities, but said service takes\n about two per cent of their capacities\n and their time. I shot them a couple\n of sentences of explanation, trusting\n them to pick up whatever else they\n needed from the tape, and checked\n the line to the divers' barge.\n\n\n It was already open; Anderton had\n gone to work quickly and with decision\n once he was sure we were taking\n on the major question. The television\n screen lit, but nothing showed\n on it but murky light, striped with\n streamers of darkness slowly rising\n and falling. The audio went\ncloonck\n...\noing\n,\noing\n...\nbonk\n...\noing\n... Underwater noises, shapeless\n and characterless.\n\n\n \"Hello, out there in the harbor.\n This is CIA, Harris calling. Come in,\n please.\"\n\n\n \"Monig here,\" the audio said.\nBoink\n...\noing\n,\noing\n...\n\n\n \"Got anything yet?\"\n\n\n \"Not a thing, Dr. Harris,\" Monig\n said. \"You can't see three inches in\n front of your face down here—it's\n too silty. We've bumped into a couple\n of crates, but so far, no egg.\"\n\n\n \"Keep trying.\"\n\n\n Cheyney, looking even more like\n a bulldog than usual, was setting his\n stopwatch by one of the eight clocks\n on ULTIMAC's face. \"Want me to\n take the divers?\" he said.\n\n\n \"No, Clark, not yet. I'd rather\n have Joan do it for the moment.\" I\n passed the mike to her. \"You'd better\n run a probability series first.\"\n\n\n \"Check.\" He began feeding tape\n into the integrator's mouth. \"What's\n your angle, Peter?\"\n\n\n \"The ship. I want to see how heavily\n shielded that dump-cell is.\"\n\n\n \"It isn't shielded at all,\" Anderton's\n voice said behind me. I hadn't\n heard him come in. \"But that doesn't\n prove anything. The egg might have\n carried sufficient shielding in itself.\n Or maybe the Commies didn't care\n whether the crew was exposed or not.\n Or maybe there isn't any egg.\"\n\n\n \"All that's possible,\" I admitted.\n \"But I want to see it, anyhow.\"\n\n\n \"Have you taken blood tests?\"\n Joan asked Anderton.\n\n\n \"Yes.\"\n\n\n \"Get the reports through to me,\n then. I want white-cell counts, differentials,\n platelet counts, hematocrit\n and sed rates on every man.\"\n\n\n Anderton picked up the phone and\n I took a firm hold on the doorknob.\n\n\n \"Hey,\" Anderton said, putting the\n phone down again. \"Are you going\n to duck out just like that? Remember,\n Dr. Harris, we've got to evacuate the\n city first of all! No matter whether\n it's a real egg or not—we can't take\n the chance on it's\nnot\nbeing an egg!\"\n\n\n \"Don't move a man until you get\n a go-ahead from CIA,\" I said. \"For\n all we know now, evacuating the city\n may be just what the enemy wants us\n to do—so they can grab it unharmed.\n Or they may want to start a panic\n for some other reason, any one of\n fifty possible reasons.\"\n\n\n \"You can't take such a gamble,\"\n he said grimly. \"There are eight and\n a half million lives riding on it. I\n can't let you do it.\"\n\n\n \"You passed your authority to us\n when you hired us,\" I pointed out.\n \"If you want to evacuate without our\n O.K., you'll have to fire us first. It'll\n take another hour to get that cleared\n from Washington—so you might as\n well give us the hour.\"\n\n\n He stared at me for a moment, his\n lips thinned. Then he picked up the\n phone again to order Joan's blood\n count, and I got out the door, fast.\nA reasonable man would have said\n that I found nothing useful on the\nLudmilla\n, except negative information.\n But the fact is that anything I\n found would have been a surprise to\n me; I went down looking for surprises.\n I found nothing but a faint\n trail to Abner Longmans Braun, most\n of which was fifteen years cold.\n\n\n There'd been a time when I'd\n known Braun, briefly and to no\n profit to either of us. As an undergraduate\n majoring in social sciences,\n I'd taken on a term paper on the old\n International Longshoreman's Association,\n a racket-ridden union now\n formally extinct—although anyone\n who knew the signs could still pick\n up some traces on the docks. In those\n days, Braun had been the business\n manager of an insurance firm, the\n sole visible function of which had\n been to write policies for the ILA\n and its individual dock-wallopers.\n For some reason, he had been amused\n by the brash youngster who'd barged\n in on him and demanded the lowdown,\n and had shown me considerable\n lengths of ropes not normally\n in view of the public—nothing incriminating,\n but enough to give me\n a better insight into how the union\n operated than I had had any right to\n expect—or even suspect.\n\n\n Hence I was surprised to hear\n somebody on the docks remark that\n Braun was in the city over the week\n end. It would never have occurred\n to me that he still interested himself\n in the waterfront, for he'd gone respectable\n with a vengeance. He was\n still a professional gambler, and according\n to what he had told the\n Congressional Investigating Committee\n last year, took in thirty to fifty\n thousand dollars a year at it, but his\n gambles were no longer concentrated\n on horses, the numbers, or shady insurance\n deals. Nowadays what he did\n was called investment—mostly in real\n estate; realtors knew him well as the\n man who had\nalmost\nbought the Empire\n State Building. (The\nalmost\nin\n the equation stands for the moment\n when the shoestring broke.)\n\n\n Joan had been following his career,\n too, not because she had ever met\n him, but because for her he was a\n type study in the evolution of what\n she called \"the extra-legal ego.\"\n \"With personalities like that, respectability\n is a disease,\" she told me.\n \"There's always an almost-open conflict\n between the desire to be powerful\n and the desire to be accepted;\n your ordinary criminal is a moral imbecile,\n but people like Braun are\n damned with a conscience, and sooner\n or later they crack trying to appease\n it.\"\n\n\n \"I'd sooner try to crack a Timkin\n bearing,\" I said. \"Braun's ten-point\n steel all the way through.\"\n\n\n \"Don't you believe it. The symptoms\n are showing all over him. Now\n he's backing Broadway plays, sponsoring\n beginning actresses, joining\n playwrights' groups—he's the only\n member of Buskin and Brush who's\n never written a play, acted in one, or\n so much as pulled the rope to raise\n the curtain.\"\n\n\n \"That's investment,\" I said.\n \"That's his business.\"\n\n\n \"Peter, you're only looking at the\n surface. His real investments almost\n never fail. But the plays he backs\nalways\ndo. They have to; he's sinking\n money in them to appease his conscience,\n and if they were to succeed it\n would double his guilt instead of\n salving it. It's the same way with the\n young actresses. He's not sexually\n interested in them—his type never is,\n because living a rigidly orthodox\n family life is part of the effort towards\n respectability. He's backing\n them to 'pay his debt to society'—in\n other words, they're talismans to\n keep him out of jail.\"\n\n\n \"It doesn't seem like a very satisfactory\n substitute.\"\n\n\n \"Of course it isn't,\" Joan had said.\n \"The next thing he'll do is go in for\n direct public service—giving money\n to hospitals or something like that.\n You watch.\"\n\n\n She had been right; within the\n year, Braun had announced the\n founding of an association for clearing\n the Detroit slum area where he\n had been born—the plainest kind of\n symbolic suicide:\nLet's not have any\n more Abner Longmans Brauns born\n down here\n. It depressed me to see it\n happen, for next on Joan's agenda\n for Braun was an entry into politics\n as a fighting liberal—a New Dealer\n twenty years too late. Since I'm mildly\n liberal myself when I'm off duty,\n I hated to think what Braun's career\n might tell me about my own motives,\n if I'd let it.\nAll of which had nothing to do\n with why I was prowling around the\nLudmilla\n—or did it? I kept remembering\n Anderton's challenge: \"You\n can't take such a gamble. There are\n eight and a half million lives riding\n on it—\" That put it up into Braun's\n normal operating area, all right. The\n connection was still hazy, but on the\n grounds that any link might be useful,\n I phoned him.\n\n\n He remembered me instantly; like\n most uneducated, power-driven men,\n he had a memory as good as any machine's.\n\n\n \"You never did send me that paper\n you was going to write,\" he said. His\n voice seemed absolutely unchanged,\n although he was in his seventies now.\n \"You promised you would.\"\n\n\n \"Kids don't keep their promises\n as well as they should,\" I said. \"But\n I've still got copies and I'll see to it\n that you get one, this time. Right\n now I need another favor—something\n right up your alley.\"\n\n\n \"CIA business?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. I didn't know you knew I\n was with CIA.\"\n\n\n Braun chuckled. \"I still know a\n thing or two,\" he said. \"What's the\n angle?\"\n\n\n \"That I can't tell you over the\n phone. But it's the biggest gamble\n there ever was, and I think we need\n an expert. Can you come down to\n CIA's central headquarters right\n away?\"\n\n\n \"Yeah, if it's that big. If it ain't,\n I got lots of business here, Andy.\n And I ain't going to be in town long.\n You're sure it's top stuff?\"\n\n\n \"My word on it.\"\n\n\n He was silent a moment. Then he\n said, \"Andy, send me your paper.\"\n\n\n \"The paper? Sure, but—\" Then I\n got it. I'd given him my word.\n \"You'll get it,\" I said. \"Thanks, Mr.\n Braun.\"\n\n\n I called headquarters and sent a\n messenger to my apartment to look\n for one of those long-dusty blue folders\n with the legal-length sheets inside\n them, with orders to scorch it over\n to Braun without stopping to breathe\n more than once. Then I went back\n myself.\n\n\n The atmosphere had changed. Anderton\n was sitting by the big desk,\n clenching his fists and sweating; his\n whole posture telegraphed his controlled\n helplessness. Cheyney was\n bent over a seismograph, echo-sounding\n for the egg through the river\n bottom. If that even had a prayer of\n working, I knew, he'd have had the\n trains of the Hudson & Manhattan\n stopped; their rumbling course\n through their tubes would have\n blanked out any possible echo-pip\n from the egg.\n\n\n \"Wild goose chase?\" Joan said,\n scanning my face.\n\n\n \"Not quite. I've got something, if\n I can just figure out what it is. Remember\n One-Shot Braun?\"\n\n\n \"Yes. What's he got to do with\n it?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing,\" I said. \"But I want\n to bring him in. I don't think we'll\n lick this project before deadline without\n him.\"\n\n\n \"What good is a professional\n gambler on a job like this? He'll just\n get in the way.\"\n\n\n I looked toward the television\n screen, which now showed an\n amorphous black mass, jutting up\n from a foundation of even deeper\n black. \"Is that operation getting you\n anywhere?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing's gotten us anywhere,\"\n Anderton interjected harshly. \"We\n don't even know if that's the egg—the\n whole area is littered with crates.\n Harris, you've got to let me get that\n alert out!\"\n\n\n \"Clark, how's the time going?\"\n\n\n Cheyney consulted the stopwatch.\n \"Deadline in twenty-nine minutes,\"\n he said.\n\n\n \"All right, let's use those minutes.\n I'm beginning to see this thing\n a little clearer. Joan, what we've got\n here is a one-shot gamble; right?\"\n\n\n \"In effect,\" she said cautiously.\n\n\n \"And it's my guess that we're\n never going to get the answer by\n diving for it—not in time, anyhow.\n Remember when the Navy lost a\n barge-load of shells in the harbor,\n back in '52? They scrabbled for them\n for a year and never pulled up a one;\n they finally had to warn the public\n that if it found anything funny-looking\n along the shore it shouldn't bang\n said object, or shake it either. We're\n better equipped than the Navy was\n then—but we're working against a\n deadline.\"\n\n\n \"If you'd admitted that earlier,\"\n Anderton said hoarsely, \"we'd have\n half a million people out of the city\n by now. Maybe even a million.\"\n\n\n \"We haven't given up yet, colonel.\n The point is this, Joan: what\n we need is an inspired guess. Get\n anything from the prob series, Clark?\n I thought not. On a one-shot gamble\n of this kind, the 'laws' of chance are\n no good at all. For that matter, the\n so-called ESP experiments showed us\n long ago that even the way we construct\n random tables is full of holes—and\n that a man with a feeling for\n the essence of a gamble can make a\n monkey out of chance almost at will.\n\n\n \"And if there ever was such a\n man, Braun is it. That's why I asked\n him to come down here. I want him\n to look at that lump on the screen\n and—play a hunch.\"\n\n\n \"You're out of your mind,\" Anderton\n said.\nA decorous knock spared me the\n trouble of having to deny, affirm or\n ignore the judgment. It was Braun;\n the messenger had been fast, and\n the gambler hadn't bothered to read\n what a college student had thought\n of him fifteen years ago. He came\n forward and held out his hand, while\n the others looked him over frankly.\n\n\n He was impressive, all right. It\n would have been hard for a stranger\n to believe that he was aiming at respectability;\n to the eye, he was already\n there. He was tall and spare,\n and walked perfectly erect, not without\n spring despite his age. His clothing\n was as far from that of a\n gambler as you could have taken it\n by design: a black double-breasted\n suit with a thin vertical stripe, a gray\n silk tie with a pearl stickpin just\n barely large enough to be visible at\n all, a black Homburg; all perfectly\n fitted, all worn with proper casualness—one\n might almost say a formal\n casualness. It was only when he\n opened his mouth that One-Shot\n Braun was in the suit with him.\n\n\n \"I come over as soon as your runner\n got to me,\" he said. \"What's the\n pitch, Andy?\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Braun, this is Joan Hadamard,\n Clark Cheyney, Colonel Anderton.\n I'll be quick because we need\n speed now. A Polish ship has dropped\n something out in the harbor.\n We don't know what it is. It may be\n a hell-bomb, or it may be just somebody's\n old laundry. Obviously we've\n got to find out which—and we want\n you to tell us.\"\n\n\n Braun's aristocratic eyebrows went\n up. \"Me? Hell, Andy, I don't know\n nothing about things like that. I'm\n surprised with you. I thought CIA\n had all the brains it needed—ain't\n you got machines to tell you answers\n like that?\"\n\n\n I pointed silently to Joan, who had\n gone back to work the moment the\n introductions were over. She was still\n on the mike to the divers. She was\n saying: \"What does it look like?\"\n\n\n \"It's just a lump of something,\n Dr. Hadamard. Can't even tell its\n shape—it's buried too deeply in the\n mud.\"\nCloonk\n...\nOing\n,\noing\n...\n\n\n \"Try the Geiger.\"\n\n\n \"We did. Nothing but background.\"\n\n\n \"Scintillation counter?\"\n\n\n \"Nothing, Dr. Hadamard. Could\n be it's shielded.\"\n\n\n \"Let us do the guessing, Monig.\n All right, maybe it's got a clockwork\n fuse that didn't break with the impact.\n Or a gyroscopic fuse. Stick a\n stethoscope on it and see if you pick\n up a ticking or anything that sounds\n like a motor running.\"\nThere was a lag and I turned back\n to Braun. \"As you can see, we're\n stymied. This is a long shot, Mr.\n Braun. One throw of the dice—one\n show-down hand. We've got to have\n an expert call it for us—somebody\n with a record of hits on long shots.\n That's why I called you.\"\n\n\n \"It's no good,\" he said. He took\n off the Homburg, took his handkerchief\n from his breast pocket, and\n wiped the hatband. \"I can't do it.\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"It ain't my\nkind\nof thing,\" he\n said. \"Look, I never in my life run\n odds on anything that made any difference.\n But this makes a difference.\n If I guess wrong—\"\n\n\n \"Then we're all dead ducks. But\n why should you guess wrong? Your\n hunches have been working for sixty\n years now.\"\n\n\n Braun wiped his face. \"No. You\n don't get it. I wish you'd listen to\n me. Look, my wife and my kids are\n in the city. It ain't only my life, it's\n theirs, too. That's what I care about.\n That's why it's no good. On things\n that matter to me,\nmy hunches don't\n work\n.\"\n\n\n I was stunned, and so, I could see,\n were Joan and Cheyney. I suppose I\n should have guessed it, but it had\n never occurred to me.\n\n\n \"Ten minutes,\" Cheyney said.\n\n\n I looked up at Braun. He was\n frightened, and again I was surprised\n without having any right to\n be. I tried to keep at least my voice\n calm.\n\n\n \"Please try it anyhow, Mr. Braun—as\n a favor. It's already too late to\n do it any other way. And if you guess\n wrong, the outcome won't be any\n worse than if you don't try at all.\"\n\n\n \"My kids,\" he whispered. I don't\n think he knew that he was speaking\n aloud. I waited.\n\n\n Then his eyes seemed to come back\n to the present. \"All right,\" he said.\n \"I told you the truth, Andy. Remember\n that. So—is it a bomb or ain't it?\n That's what's up for grabs, right?\"\n\n\n I nodded. He closed his eyes. An\n unexpected stab of pure fright went\n down my back. Without the eyes,\n Braun's face was a death mask.\n\n\n The water sounds and the irregular\n ticking of a Geiger counter\n seemed to spring out from the audio\n speaker, four times as loud as before.\n I could even hear the pen of\n the seismograph scribbling away, until\n I looked at the instrument and\n saw that Clark had stopped it, probably\n long ago.\n\n\n Droplets of sweat began to form\n along Braun's forehead and his upper\n lip. The handkerchief remained\n crushed in his hand.\n\n\n Anderton said, \"Of all the fool—\"\n\n\n \"Hush!\" Joan said quietly.\nSlowly, Braun opened his eyes.\n \"All right,\" he said. \"You guys\n wanted it this way.\nI say it's a bomb.\n\"\n He stared at us for a moment more—and\n then, all at once, the Timkin\n bearing burst. Words poured out of\n it. \"Now you guys do something, do\n your job like I did mine—get my\n wife and kids out of there—empty\n the city—do something,\ndo something\n!\"\n\n\n Anderton was already grabbing\n for the phone. \"You're right, Mr.\n Braun. If it isn't already too late—\"\n\n\n Cheyney shot out a hand and\n caught Anderton's telephone arm by\n the wrist. \"Wait a minute,\" he said.\n\n\n \"What d'you mean, 'wait a minute'?\n Haven't you already shot\n enough time?\"\n\n\n Cheyney did not let go; instead,\n he looked inquiringly at Joan and\n said, \"One minute, Joan. You might\n as well go ahead.\"\n\n\n She nodded and spoke into the\n mike. \"Monig, unscrew the cap.\"\n\n\n \"Unscrew the cap?\" the audio\n squawked. \"But Dr. Hadamard, if\n that sets it off—\"\n\n\n \"It won't go off. That's the one\n thing you can be sure it won't do.\"\n\n\n \"What is this?\" Anderton demanded.\n \"And what's this deadline\n stuff, anyhow?\"\n\n\n \"The cap's off,\" Monig reported.\n \"We're getting plenty of radiation\n now. Just a minute— Yeah. Dr.\n Hadamard, it's a bomb, all right.\n But it hasn't got a fuse. Now how\n could they have made a fool mistake\n like that?\"\n\n\n \"In other words, it's a dud,\" Joan\n said.\n\n\n \"That's right, a dud.\"\n\n\n Now, at last, Braun wiped his face,\n which was quite gray. \"I told you\n the truth,\" he said grimly. \"My\n hunches don't work on stuff like\n this.\"\n\n\n \"But they do,\" I said. \"I'm sorry\n we put you through the wringer—and\n you too, colonel—but we couldn't\n let an opportunity like this slip.\n It was too good a chance for us to\n test how our facilities would stand\n up in a real bomb-drop.\"\n\n\n \"A real drop?\" Anderton said.\n \"Are you trying to say that CIA\n staged this? You ought to be shot,\n the whole pack of you!\"\n\n\n \"No, not exactly,\" I said. \"The\n enemy's responsible for the drop, all\n right. We got word last month from\n our man in Gdynia that they were\n going to do it, and that the bomb\n would be on board the\nLudmilla\n. As\n I say, it was too good an opportunity\n to miss. We wanted to find out just\n how long it would take us to figure\n out the nature of the bomb—which\n we didn't know in detail—after it\n was dropped here. So we had our\n people in Gdynia defuse the thing\n after it was put on board the ship,\n but otherwise leave it entirely alone.\n\n\n \"Actually, you see, your hunch was\n right on the button as far as it went.\n We didn't ask you whether or not\n that object was a live bomb. We\n asked whether it was a bomb or not.\n You said it was, and you were right.\"\n\n\n The expression on Braun's face\n was exactly like the one he had worn\n while he had been searching for his\n decision—except that, since his eyes\n were open, I could see that it was\n directed at me. \"If this was the old\n days,\" he said in an ice-cold voice,\n \"I might of made the colonel's idea\n come true. I don't go for tricks like\n this, Andy.\"\n\n\n \"It was more than a trick,\" Clark\n put in. \"You'll remember we had\n a deadline on the test, Mr. Braun.\n Obviously, in a real drop we wouldn't\n have all the time in the world\n to figure out what kind of a thing\n had been dropped. If we had still\n failed to establish that when the\n deadline ran out, we would have\n had to allow evacuation of the city,\n with all the attendant risk that that\n was exactly what the enemy wanted\n us to do.\"\n\n\n \"So?\"\n\n\n \"So we failed the test,\" I said. \"At\n one minute short of the deadline,\n Joan had the divers unscrew the cap.\n In a real drop that would have resulted\n in a detonation, if the bomb\n was real; we'd never risk it. That\n we did do it in the test was a concession\n of failure—an admission that\n our usual methods didn't come\n through for us in time.\n\n\n \"And that means that you were\n the only person who did come\n through, Mr. Braun. If a real bomb-drop\n ever comes, we're going to have\n to have you here, as an active part of\n our investigation. Your intuition for\n the one-shot gamble was the one\n thing that bailed us out this time.\n Next time it may save eight million\n lives.\"\n\n\n There was quite a long silence. All\n of us, Anderton included, watched\n Braun intently, but his impassive\n face failed to show any trace of how\n his thoughts were running.\n\n\n When he did speak at last, what\n he said must have seemed insanely\n irrelevant to Anderton, and maybe\n to Cheyney too. And perhaps it\n meant nothing more to Joan than\n the final clinical note in a case history.\n\n\n \"It's funny,\" he said, \"I was\n thinking of running for Congress\n next year from my district. But maybe\n this is more important.\"\n\n\n It was, I believe, the sigh of a man\n at peace with himself.\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAstounding Science Fiction\nAugust\n 1955. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What did the Ludmilla drop?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_1", "options": ["Nothing", "An egg", "A live bomb", "A dead bomb"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the CIA?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_2", "options": ["We never learn", "A civilian organization in charge of keeping the country safe", "A government agency in charge of keeping the country safe", "A group of people in charge of defusing bombs"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the divers find what the object was?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_3", "options": ["They didn't find out", "The unscrewed the top", "They used ESP experiments", "They used a Geiger Counter"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who put the bomb on the ship?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_4", "options": ["People in Gdynia", "Polish", "Commies", "The CIA"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did they choose Mr. Braun to make the decision about the object?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_5", "options": ["He was a good gambler", "He was going to run for Congress", "We do not get a reason", "His family was in the city so it mattered more"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Braun at peace?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_6", "options": ["He saved his family", "He is free to run for Congress", "He finally has a job", "He gets to be valuable and respectable doing what he loves"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the name of the character telling the story?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_7", "options": ["Andy", "Braun", "Clark", "Anderton"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does Braun sponsor beginning actresses?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_8", "options": ["He wants to have a romantic connection with them.", "His wife likes young talent.", "He believes they will become famous and earn him money.", "He is cursed with a conscience."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why didn't the city get evacuated?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_9", "options": ["The CIA members disagreed on what to do.", "There was not enough time.", "The chaos could have caused more damage.", "There was no actual danger to civilians."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What would have happened if Braun gave a different answer to his big question?", "question_unique_id": "22958_8T1HU0MH_10", "options": ["The city would be destroyed.", "He would have been out of a new job.", "He would have lost his chance at Congress.", "He would have gotten in trouble for gambling debt."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/9/5/22958//22958-h//22958-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "22966", "set_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Toy Shop", "year": 1968, "author": "Harrison, Harry", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; PS", "article": "The gadget was strictly,\n\n beyond any question, a toy.\n\n Not a real, workable device.\n\n Except for the way it could work\n\n under a man's mental skin....\nBY HARRY HARRISON\nBecause there were few adults in\n the crowd, and Colonel \"Biff\" Hawton\n stood over six feet tall, he could\n see every detail of the demonstration.\n The children—and most of the\n parents—gaped in wide-eyed wonder.\n Biff Hawton was too sophisticated\n to be awed. He stayed on because\n he wanted to find out what the\n trick was that made the gadget work.\n\n\n \"It's all explained right here in\n your instruction book,\" the demonstrator\n said, holding up a garishly\n printed booklet opened to a four-color\n diagram. \"You all know how\n magnets pick up things and I bet\n you even know that the earth itself is\n one great big magnet—that's why\n compasses always point north. Well\n ... the Atomic Wonder Space\n Wave Tapper hangs onto those space\n waves. Invisibly all about us, and\n even going right through us, are the\n magnetic waves of the earth. The\n Atomic Wonder rides these waves\n just the way a ship rides the waves\n in the ocean. Now watch....\"\n\n\n Every eye was on him as he put the\n gaudy model rocketship on top of the\n table and stepped back. It was made\n of stamped metal and seemed as incapable\n of flying as a can of ham—which\n it very much resembled. Neither\n wings, propellors, nor jets broke\n through the painted surface. It rested\n on three rubber wheels and coming\n out through the bottom was a double\n strand of thin insulated wire. This\n white wire ran across the top of the\n black table and terminated in a control\n box in the demonstrator's hand.\n An indicator light, a switch and a\n knob appeared to be the only controls.\n\n\n \"I turn on the Power Switch, sending\n a surge of current to the Wave\n Receptors,\" he said. The switch\n clicked and the light blinked on and\n off with a steady pulse. Then the\n man began to slowly turn the knob.\n \"A careful touch on the Wave Generator\n is necessary as we are dealing\n with the powers of the whole world\n here....\"\n\n\n A concerted\nahhhh\nswept through\n the crowd as the Space Wave Tapper\n shivered a bit, then rose slowly into\n the air. The demonstrator stepped\n back and the toy rose higher and\n higher, bobbing gently on the invisible\n waves of magnetic force that\n supported it. Ever so slowly the power\n was reduced and it settled back to\n the table.\n\n\n \"Only $17.95,\" the young man\n said, putting a large price sign on the\n table. \"For the complete set of the\n Atomic Wonder, the Space Tapper\n control box, battery and instruction\n book ...\"\n\n\n At the appearance of the price\n card the crowd broke up noisily and\n the children rushed away towards the\n operating model trains. The demonstrator's\n words were lost in their\n noisy passage, and after a moment he\n sank into a gloomy silence. He put\n the control box down, yawned and\n sat on the edge of the table. Colonel\n Hawton was the only one left after\n the crowd had moved on.\n\n\n \"Could you tell me how this thing\n works?\" the colonel asked, coming\n forward. The demonstrator brightened\n up and picked up one of the\n toys.\n\n\n \"Well, if you will look here,\n sir....\" He opened the hinged top.\n \"You will see the Space Wave coils\n at each end of the ship.\" With a pencil\n he pointed out the odd shaped\n plastic forms about an inch in diameter\n that had been wound—apparently\n at random—with a few turns of\n copper wire. Except for these coils\n the interior of the model was empty.\n The coils were wired together and\n other wires ran out through the hole\n in the bottom of the control box.\n Biff Hawton turned a very quizzical\n eye on the gadget and upon the demonstrator\n who completely ignored this\n sign of disbelief.\n\n\n \"Inside the control box is the battery,\"\n the young man said, snapping\n it open and pointing to an ordinary\n flashlight battery. \"The current goes\n through the Power Switch and Power\n Light to the Wave Generator ...\"\n\n\n \"What you mean to say,\" Biff\n broke in, \"is that the juice from this\n fifteen cent battery goes through this\n cheap rheostat to those meaningless\n coils in the model and absolutely\n nothing happens. Now tell me what\n really flies the thing. If I'm going to\n drop eighteen bucks for six-bits\n worth of tin, I want to know what\n I'm getting.\"\n\n\n The demonstrator flushed. \"I'm\n sorry, sir,\" he stammered. \"I wasn't\n trying to hide anything. Like any\n magic trick this one can't be really\n demonstrated until it has been purchased.\"\n He leaned forward and whispered\n confidentially. \"I'll tell you\n what I'll do though. This thing is way\n overpriced and hasn't been moving at\n all. The manager said I could let them\n go at three dollars if I could find any\n takers. If you want to buy it for that\n price....\"\n\n\n \"Sold, my boy!\" the colonel said,\n slamming three bills down on the\n table. \"I'll give that much for it no\n matter\nhow\nit works. The boys in the\n shop will get a kick out of it,\" he\n tapped the winged rocket on his\n chest. \"Now\nreally\n—what holds it\n up?\"\n\n\n The demonstrator looked around\n carefully, then pointed. \"Strings!\" he\n said. \"Or rather a black thread. It\n runs from the top of the model,\n through a tiny loop in the ceiling,\n and back down to my hand—tied to\n this ring on my finger. When I back\n up—the model rises. It's as simple as\n that.\"\n\n\n \"All good illusions are simple,\"\n the colonel grunted, tracing the black\n thread with his eye. \"As long as\n there is plenty of flimflam to distract\n the viewer.\"\n\n\n \"If you don't have a black table, a\n black cloth will do,\" the young man\n said. \"And the arch of a doorway is a\n good site, just see that the room in\n back is dark.\"\n\n\n \"Wrap it up, my boy, I wasn't born\n yesterday. I'm an old hand at this\n kind of thing.\"\nBiff Hawton sprang it at the next\n Thursday-night poker party. The\n gang were all missile men and they\n cheered and jeered as he hammed\n up the introduction.\n\n\n \"Let me copy the diagram, Biff, I\n could use some of those magnetic\n waves in the new bird!\"\n\n\n \"Those flashlight batteries are\n cheaper than lox, this is the thing of\n the future!\"\n\n\n Only Teddy Kaner caught wise as\n the flight began. He was an amateur\n magician and spotted the gimmick at\n once. He kept silent with professional\n courtesy, and smiled ironically as\n the rest of the bunch grew silent one\n by one. The colonel was a good showman\n and he had set the scene well.\n He almost had them believing in the\n Space Wave Tapper before he was\n through. When the model had landed\n and he had switched it off he couldn't\n stop them from crowding around\n the table.\n\n\n \"A thread!\" one of the engineers\n shouted, almost with relief, and they\n all laughed along with him.\n\n\n \"Too bad,\" the head project physicist\n said, \"I was hoping that a little\n Space Wave Tapping could help us\n out. Let me try a flight with it.\"\n\n\n \"Teddy Kaner first,\" Biff announced.\n \"He spotted it while you\n were all watching the flashing lights,\n only he didn't say anything.\"\n\n\n Kaner slipped the ring with the\n black thread over his finger and started\n to step back.\n\n\n \"You have to turn the switch on\n first,\" Biff said.\n\n\n \"I know,\" Kaner smiled. \"But\n that's part of illusion—the spiel and\n the misdirection. I'm going to try\n this cold first, so I can get it moving\n up and down smoothly, then go\n through it with the whole works.\"\n\nILLUSTRATED BY BREY\n\n He moved his hand back smoothly,\n in a professional manner that drew\n no attention to it. The model lifted\n from the table—then crashed back\n down.\n\n\n \"The thread broke,\" Kaner said.\n\n\n \"You jerked it, instead of pulling\n smoothly,\" Biff said and knotted the\n broken thread. \"Here let me show\n you how to do it.\"\n\n\n The thread broke again when Biff\n tried it, which got a good laugh that\n made his collar a little warm. Someone\n mentioned the poker game.\n\n\n This was the only time that poker\n was mentioned or even remembered\n that night. Because very soon after\n this they found that the thread would\n lift the model only when the switch\n was on and two and a half volts\n flowing through the joke coils. With\n the current turned off the model was\n too heavy to lift. The thread broke\n every time.\n\"I still think it's a screwy idea,\"\n the young man said. \"One week getting\n fallen arches, demonstrating\n those toy ships for every brat within\n a thousand miles. Then selling the\n things for three bucks when they\n must have cost at least a hundred dollars\n apiece to make.\"\n\n\n \"But you\ndid\nsell the ten of them\n to people who would be interested?\"\n the older man asked.\n\n\n \"I think so, I caught a few Air\n Force officers and a colonel in missiles\n one day. Then there was one official\n I remembered from the Bureau\n of Standards. Luckily he didn't recognize\n me. Then those two professors\n you spotted from the university.\"\n\n\n \"Then the problem is out of our\n hands and into theirs. All we have to\n do now is sit back and wait for results.\"\n\n\n \"\nWhat\nresults?! These people\n weren't interested when we were\n hammering on their doors with the\n proof. We've patented the coils and\n can prove to anyone that there is a\n reduction in weight around them\n when they are operating....\"\n\n\n \"But a small reduction. And we\n don't know what is causing it. No\n one can be interested in a thing like\n that—a fractional weight decrease in\n a clumsy model, certainly not enough\n to lift the weight of the generator.\n No one wrapped up in massive fuel\n consumption, tons of lift and such is\n going to have time to worry about a\n crackpot who thinks he has found a\n minor slip in Newton's laws.\"\n\n\n \"You think they will now?\" the\n young man asked, cracking his knuckles\n impatiently.\n\n\n \"I\nknow\nthey will. The tensile\n strength of that thread is correctly adjusted\n to the weight of the model.\n The thread will break if you try to\n lift the model with it. Yet you can\n lift the model—after a small increment\n of its weight has been removed\n by the coils. This is going to bug\n these men. Nobody is going to ask\n them to solve the problem or concern\n themselves with it. But it will\n nag at them because they know this\n effect can't possibly exist. They'll see\n at once that the magnetic-wave theory\n is nonsense. Or perhaps true? We\n don't know. But they will all be\n thinking about it and worrying about\n it. Someone is going to experiment\n in his basement—just as a hobby of\n course—to find the cause of the error.\n And he or someone else is going\n to find out what makes those coils\n work, or maybe a way to improve\n them!\"\n\n\n \"And we have the patents....\"\n\n\n \"Correct. They will be doing the\n research that will take them out of\n the massive-lift-propulsion business\n and into the field of pure space\n flight.\"\n\n\n \"And in doing so they will be making\n us rich—whenever the time\n comes to manufacture,\" the young\n man said cynically.\n\n\n \"We'll all be rich, son,\" the older\n man said, patting him on the shoulder.\n \"Believe me, you're not going to\n recognize this old world ten years\n from now.\"\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAnalog\nApril 1962.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did all the kids leave the Atomic Wonder Space Wave Trapper?", "question_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE_1", "options": ["Trains were more interesting", "It was boring", "It was too expensive", "It was held up by string"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What loophole will get other people to do the work and research of the creators of the Atomic Wonder for them?", "question_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE_2", "options": ["Strings", "Magnetic-wave theory", "Wave Generators", "Patents"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Biff buy the toy?", "question_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE_3", "options": ["He wanted to mess with his friends", "He wanted to see how it worked", "He saw the string", "It was only $17.95"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What will likely happen with the Atomic Wonder?", "question_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE_4", "options": ["It will be experimented on over and over", "It will be forgotten", "No kids will buy it", "There is no way to know"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What will cause the buyers to research the toy?", "question_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE_5", "options": ["The promise of profit", "Scientific curiousity", "To find out how they were scammed", "They won't"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why wasn't anyone interested in the coils before the toy?", "question_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE_6", "options": ["They didn't know about it", "They were too busy", "It was too small-scale", "They were interested"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following jobs helped someone recognize the trick of the toy?", "question_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE_7", "options": ["Engineer", "Scientist", "Salesman", "Magician"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was ironic about the colonel saying that all good illusions are simple?", "question_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE_8", "options": ["It wasn't ironic", "He did not see the thread until it was pointed out to him", "The illusion would be spotted by one of his friends", "The illusion was more complicated than he realized"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following most accurately represents how much money they lost selling the toy to the colonel?", "question_unique_id": "22966_9EB51MJE_9", "options": ["About 80 dollars", "About 15 dollars", "At least 97 dollars", "At least 18 dollars"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0034", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/9/6/22966//22966-h//22966-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "22967", "set_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Stoker and the Stars", "year": 1965, "author": "Budrys, Algis", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "THE STOKER\n\n AND THE STARS\nBY JOHN A. SENTRY\nWhen\nyou've had your ears pinned\n back in a bowknot, it's sometimes hard\n to remember that an intelligent people\n has no respect for a whipped enemy\n ... but does for a fairly beaten enemy.\nIllustrated by van Dongen\nKnow\n him? Yes, I know\n him—\nknew\nhim. That\n was twenty years ago.\n\n\n Everybody knows\n him now. Everybody\n who passed him on the street knows\n him. Everybody who went to the same\n schools, or even to different schools\n in different towns, knows him now.\n Ask them. But I knew him. I lived\n three feet away from him for a month\n and a half. I shipped with him and\n called him by his first name.\n\n\n What was he like? What was he\n thinking, sitting on the edge of his\n bunk with his jaw in his palm and\n his eyes on the stars? What did he\n think he was after?\n\n\n Well ... Well, I think he— You\n know, I think I never did know him,\n after all. Not well. Not as well as\n some of those people who're writing\n the books about him seem to.\n\n\n I couldn't really describe him to\n you. He had a duffelbag in his hand\n and a packed airsuit on his back. The\n skin of his face had been dried out\n by ship's air, burned by ultraviolet\n and broiled by infra red. The pupils\n of his eyes had little cloudy specks in\n them where the cosmic rays had shot\n through them. But his eyes were\n steady and his body was hard. What\n did he look like? He looked like a\n man.\nIt was after the war, and we were\n beaten. There used to be a school of\n thought among us that deplored our\n combativeness; before we had ever\n met any people from off Earth, even,\n you could hear people saying we\n were toughest, cruelest life-form in\n the Universe, unfit to mingle with\n the gentler wiser races in the stars,\n and a sure bet to steal their galaxy\n and corrupt it forever. Where\n these people got their information, I\n don't know.\n\n\n We were beaten. We moved out\n beyond Centaurus, and Sirius, and\n then we met the Jeks, the Nosurwey,\n the Lud. We tried Terrestrial know-how,\n we tried Production Miracles,\n we tried patriotism, we tried damning\n the torpedoes and full speed\n ahead ... and we were smashed back\n like mayflies in the wind. We died in\n droves, and we retreated from the\n guttering fires of a dozen planets, we\n dug in, we fought through the last\n ditch, and we were dying on Earth\n itself before Baker mutinied, shot\n Cope, and surrendered the remainder\n of the human race to the wiser, gentler\n races in the stars. That way, we\n lived. That way, we were permitted\n to carry on our little concerns, and\n mind our manners. The Jeks and the\n Lud and the Nosurwey returned to\n their own affairs, and we knew they\n would leave us alone so long as we\n didn't bother them.\n\n\n We liked it that way. Understand\n me—we didn't accept it, we didn't\n knuckle under with waiting murder\n in our hearts—we\nliked\nit. We were\n grateful just to be left alone again.\n We were happy we hadn't been\n wiped out like the upstarts the rest\n of the Universe thought us to be.\n When they let us keep our own solar\n system and carry on a trickle of trade\n with the outside, we accepted it for\n the fantastically generous gift it was.\n Too many of our best men were dead\n for us to have any remaining claim\n on these things in our own right. I\n know how it was. I was there, twenty\n years ago. I was a little, pudgy\n man with short breath and a high-pitched\n voice. I was a typical Earthman.\nWe were out on a God-forsaken\n landing field on Mars, MacReidie\n and I, loading cargo aboard the\nSerenus\n. MacReidie was First Officer.\n I was Second. The stranger came\n walking up to us.\n\n\n \"Got a job?\" he asked, looking at\n MacReidie.\n\n\n Mac looked him over. He saw the\n same things I'd seen. He shook his\n head. \"Not for you. The only thing\n we're short on is stokers.\"\n\n\n You wouldn't know. There's no\n such thing as a stoker any more, with\n automatic ships. But the stranger\n knew what Mac meant.\nSerenus\nhad what they called an\n electronic drive. She had to run with\n an evacuated engine room. The leaking\n electricity would have broken any\n stray air down to ozone, which eats\n metal and rots lungs. So the engine\n room had the air pumped out of her,\n and the stokers who tended the dials\n and set the cathode attitudes had to\n wear suits, smelling themselves for\n twelve hours at a time and standing\n a good chance of cooking where they\n sat when the drive arced.\nSerenus\nwas\n an ugly old tub. At that, we were the\n better of the two interstellar freighters\n the human race had left.\n\n\n \"You're bound over the border,\n aren't you?\"\n\n\n MacReidie nodded. \"That's right.\n But—\"\n\n\n \"I'll stoke.\"\n\n\n MacReidie looked over toward me\n and frowned. I shrugged my shoulders\n helplessly. I was a little afraid\n of the stranger, too.\n\n\n The trouble was the look of him.\n It was the look you saw in the bars\n back on Earth, where the veterans of\n the war sat and stared down into\n their glasses, waiting for night to\n fall so they could go out into the\n alleys and have drunken fights among\n themselves. But he had brought that\n look to Mars, to the landing field,\n and out here there was something\n disquieting about it.\n\n\n He'd caught Mac's look and turned\n his head to me. \"I'll stoke,\" he repeated.\n\n\n I didn't know what to say. MacReidie\n and I—almost all of the men\n in the Merchant Marine—hadn't\n served in the combat arms. We had\n freighted supplies, and we had seen\n ships dying on the runs—we'd had\n our own brushes with commerce raiders,\n and we'd known enough men\n who joined the combat forces. But\n very few of the men came back, and\n the war this man had fought hadn't\n been the same as ours. He'd commanded\n a fighting ship, somewhere,\n and come to grips with things we\n simply didn't know about. The mark\n was on him, but not on us. I couldn't\n meet his eyes. \"O.K. by me,\" I mumbled\n at last.\n\n\n I saw MacReidie's mouth turn\n down at the corners. But he couldn't\n gainsay the man any more than I\n could. MacReidie wasn't a mumbling\n man, so he said angrily: \"O.K.,\n bucko, you'll stoke. Go and sign on.\"\n\n\n \"Thanks.\" The stranger walked\n quietly away. He wrapped a hand\n around the cable on a cargo hook and\n rode into the hold on top of some\n freight. Mac spat on the ground and\n went back to supervising his end of\n the loading. I was busy with mine,\n and it wasn't until we'd gotten the\nSerenus\nloaded and buttoned up that\n Mac and I even spoke to each other\n again. Then we talked about the trip.\n We didn't talk about the stranger.\nDaniels, the Third, had signed him\n on and had moved him into the empty\n bunk above mine. We slept all in\n a bunch on the\nSerenus\n—officers and\n crew. Even so, we had to sleep in\n shifts, with the ship's designers giving\n ninety per cent of her space to\n cargo, and eight per cent to power\n and control. That left very little for\n the people, who were crammed in\n any way they could be. I said empty\n bunk. What I meant was, empty during\n my sleep shift. That meant he\n and I'd be sharing work shifts—me\n up in the control blister, parked in\n a soft chair, and him down in the\n engine room, broiling in a suit for\n twelve hours.\n\n\n But I ate with him, used the head\n with him; you can call that rubbing\n elbows with greatness, if you want to.\n\n\n He was a very quiet man. Quiet in\n the way he moved and talked. When\n we were both climbing into our\n bunks, that first night, I introduced\n myself and he introduced himself.\n Then he heaved himself into his\n bunk, rolled over on his side, fixed\n his straps, and fell asleep. He was\n always friendly toward me, but he\n must have been very tired that first\n night. I often wondered what kind\n of a life he'd lived after the war—what\n he'd done that made him different\n from the men who simply\n grew older in the bars. I wonder,\n now, if he really did do anything\n different. In an odd way, I like to\n think that one day, in a bar, on a\n day that seemed like all the rest to\n him when it began, he suddenly looked\n up with some new thought, put\n down his glass, and walked straight\n to the Earth-Mars shuttle field.\n\n\n He might have come from any\n town on Earth. Don't believe the historians\n too much. Don't pay too much\n attention to the Chamber of Commerce\n plaques. When a man's name\n becomes public property, strange\n things happen to the facts.\nIt was MacReidie who first found\n out what he'd done during the war.\n\n\n I've got to explain about MacReidie.\n He takes his opinions fast\n and strong. He's a good man—is, or\n was; I haven't seen him for a long\n while—but he liked things simple.\n\n\n MacReidie said the duffelbag broke\n loose and floated into the middle of\n the bunkroom during acceleration.\n He opened it to see whose it was.\n When he found out, he closed it up\n and strapped it back in its place at\n the foot of the stoker's bunk.\n\n\n MacReidie was my relief on the\n bridge. When he came up, he didn't\n relieve me right away. He stood next\n to my chair and looked out through\n the ports.\n\n\n \"Captain leave any special instructions\n in the Order Book?\" he asked.\n\n\n \"Just the usual. Keep a tight watch\n and proceed cautiously.\"\n\n\n \"That new stoker,\" Mac said.\n\n\n \"Yeah?\"\n\n\n \"I knew there was something\n wrong with him. He's got an old\n Marine uniform in his duffel.\"\n\n\n I didn't say anything. Mac glanced\n over at me. \"Well?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know.\" I didn't.\n\n\n I couldn't say I was surprised. It\n had to be something like that, about\n the stoker. The mark was on him, as\n I've said.\n\n\n It was the Marines that did Earth's\n best dying. It had to be. They were\n trained to be the best we had, and\n they believed in their training. They\n were the ones who slashed back the\n deepest when the other side hit us.\n They were the ones who sallied out\n into the doomed spaces between the\n stars and took the war to the other\n side as well as any human force could\n ever hope to. They were always the\n last to leave an abandoned position.\n If Earth had been giving medals to\n members of her forces in the war,\n every man in the Corps would have\n had the Medal of Honor two and\n three times over. Posthumously. I\n don't believe there were ten of them\n left alive when Cope was shot. Cope\n was one of them. They were a kind\n of human being neither MacReidie\n nor I could hope to understand.\n\n\n \"You don't know,\" Mac said. \"It's\n there. In his duffel. Damn it, we're\n going out to trade with his sworn\n enemies! Why do you suppose he\n wanted to sign on? Why do you suppose\n he's so eager to go!\"\n\n\n \"You think he's going to try to\n start something?\"\n\n\n \"Think! That's exactly what he's\n going for. One last big alley fight.\n One last brawl. When they cut him\n down—do you suppose they'll stop\n with him? They'll kill us, and then\n they'll go in and stamp Earth flat!\n You know it as well as I do.\"\n\n\n \"I don't know, Mac,\" I said. \"Go\n easy.\" I could feel the knots in my\n stomach. I didn't want any trouble.\n Not from the stoker, not from Mac.\n None of us wanted trouble—not\n even Mac, but he'd cause it to get\n rid of it, if you follow what I mean\n about his kind of man.\n\n\n Mac hit the viewport with his fist.\n \"Easy! Easy—nothing's easy. I hate\n this life,\" he said in a murderous\n voice. \"I don't know why I keep\n signing on. Mars to Centaurus and\n back, back and forth, in an old rust\n tub that's going to blow herself up\n one of these—\"\nDaniels called me on the phone\n from Communications. \"Turn up\n your Intercom volume,\" he said.\n \"The stoker's jamming the circuit.\"\n\n\n I kicked the selector switch over,\n and this is what I got:\n\n\n \"\n—so there we were at a million\n per, and the air was gettin' thick. The\n Skipper says 'Cheer up, brave boys,\n we'll—'\n\"\n\n\n He was singing. He had a terrible\n voice, but he could carry a tune, and\n he was hammering it out at the top\n of his lungs.\n\n\n \"\nTwas the last cruise of the\nVenus,\nby God you should of seen us! The\n pipes were full of whisky, and just\n to make things risky, the jets\n were ...\n\"\n\n\n The crew were chuckling into their\n own chest phones. I could hear Daniels\n trying to cut him off. But he\n kept going. I started laughing myself.\n No one's supposed to jam an\n intercom, but it made the crew feel\n good. When the crew feels good, the\n ship runs right, and it had been a\n long time since they'd been happy.\n\n\n He went on for another twenty\n minutes. Then his voice thinned out,\n and I heard him cough a little.\n \"Daniels,\" he said, \"get a relief\n down here for me.\nJump to it!\n\" He\n said the last part in a Master's voice.\n Daniels didn't ask questions. He sent\n a man on his way down.\n\n\n He'd been singing, the stoker had.\n He'd been singing while he worked\n with one arm dead, one sleeve ripped\n open and badly patched because the\n fabric was slippery with blood.\n There'd been a flashover in the drivers.\n By the time his relief got down\n there, he had the insulation back on,\n and the drive was purring along the\n way it should have been. It hadn't\n even missed a beat.\n\n\n He went down to sick bay, got the\n arm wrapped, and would have gone\n back on shift if Daniels'd let him.\n\n\n Those of us who were going off\n shift found him toying with the\n theremin in the mess compartment.\n He didn't know how to play it, and\n it sounded like a dog howling.\n\n\n \"Sing, will you!\" somebody yelled.\n He grinned and went back to the\n \"Good Ship\nVenus\n.\" It wasn't good,\n but it was loud. From that, we went\n to \"Starways, Farways, and Barways,\"\n and \"The Freefall Song.\" Somebody\n started \"I Left Her Behind For You,\"\n and that got us off into sentimental\n things, the way these sessions would\n sometimes wind up when spacemen\n were far from home. But not since\n the war, we all seemed to realize together.\n We stopped, and looked at\n each other, and we all began drifting\n out of the mess compartment.\n\n\n And maybe it got to him, too. It\n may explain something. He and I\n were the last to leave. We went to\n the bunkroom, and he stopped in the\n middle of taking off his shirt. He\n stood there, looking out the porthole,\n and forgot I was there. I heard him\n reciting something, softly, under his\n breath, and I stepped a little closer.\n This is what it was:\n\n\"\nThe rockets rise against the skies,\nSlowly; in sunlight gleaming\nWith silver hue upon the blue.\nAnd the universe waits, dreaming.\n\"\nFor men must go where the flame-winds blow,\nThe gas clouds softly plaiting;\nWhere stars are spun and worlds begun,\nAnd men will find them waiting.\n\"\nThe song that roars where the rocket soars\nIs the song of the stellar flame;\nThe dreams of Man and galactic span\nAre equal and much the same.\n\"\n \n\n What was he thinking of? Make\n your own choice. I think I came close\n to knowing him, at that moment, but\n until human beings turn telepath, no\n man can be sure of another.\n\n\n He shook himself like a dog out\n of cold water, and got into his bunk.\n I got into mine, and after a while\n I fell asleep.\nI don't know what MacReidie may\n have told the skipper about the stoker,\n or if he tried to tell him anything.\n The captain was the senior ticket\n holder in the Merchant Service, and\n a good man, in his day. He kept\n mostly to his cabin. And there was\n nothing MacReidie could do on his\n own authority—nothing simple, that\n is. And the stoker had saved the\n ship, and ...\n\n\n I think what kept anything from\n happening between MacReidie and\n the stoker, or anyone else and the\n stoker, was that it would have meant\n trouble in the ship. Trouble, confined\n to our little percentage of the ship's\n volume, could seem like something\n much more important than the fate\n of the human race. It may not seem\n that way to you. But as long as no\n one began anything, we could all get\n along. We could have a good trip.\n\n\n MacReidie worried, I'm sure. I\n worried, sometimes. But nothing\n happened.\n\n\n When we reached Alpha Centaurus,\n and set down at the trading field\n on the second planet, it was the same\n as the other trips we'd made, and the\n same kind of landfall. The Lud factor\n came out of his post after we'd\n waited for a while, and gave us our\n permit to disembark. There was a Jek\n ship at the other end of the field,\n loaded with the cargo we would get\n in exchange for our holdful of\n goods. We had the usual things;\n wine, music tapes, furs, and the like.\n The Jeks had been giving us light\n machinery lately—probably we'd get\n two or three more loads, and then\n they'd begin giving us something\n else.\n\n\n But I found that this trip wasn't\n quite the same. I found myself looking\n at the factor's post, and I realized\n for the first time that the Lud hadn't\n built it. It was a leftover from the\n old colonial human government. And\n the city on the horizon—men had\n built it; the touch of our architecture\n was on every building. I wondered\n why it had never occurred to me that\n this was so. It made the landfall different\n from all the others, somehow.\n It gave a new face to the entire\n planet.\nMac and I and some of the other\n crewmen went down on the field to\n handle the unloading. Jeks on self-propelled\n cargo lifts jockeyed among\n us, scooping up the loads as we unhooked\n the slings, bringing cases of\n machinery from their own ship. They\n sat atop their vehicles, lean and\n aloof, dashing in, whirling, shooting\n across the field to their ship and\n back like wild horsemen on the plains\n of Earth, paying us no notice.\n\n\n We were almost through when\n Mac suddenly grabbed my arm.\n \"Look!\"\n\n\n The stoker was coming down on\n one of the cargo slings. He stood\n upright, his booted feet planted wide,\n one arm curled up over his head and\n around the hoist cable. He was in his\n dusty brown Marine uniform, the\n scarlet collar tabs bright as blood at\n his throat, his major's insignia glittering\n at his shoulders, the battle\n stripes on his sleeves.\n\n\n The Jeks stopped their lifts. They\n knew that uniform. They sat up in\n their saddles and watched him come\n down. When the sling touched the\n ground, he jumped off quietly and\n walked toward the nearest Jek. They\n all followed him with their eyes.\n\n\n \"We've got to stop him,\" Mac\n said, and both of us started toward\n him. His hands were both in plain\n sight, one holding his duffelbag,\n which was swelled out with the bulk\n of his airsuit. He wasn't carrying a\n weapon of any kind. He was walking\n casually, taking his time.\n\n\n Mac and I had almost reached him\n when a Jek with insignia on his\n coveralls suddenly jumped down\n from his lift and came forward to\n meet him. It was an odd thing to\n see—the stoker, and the Jek, who\n did not stand as tall. MacReidie and\n I stepped back.\n\n\n The Jek was coal black, his scales\n glittering in the cold sunlight, his\n hatchet-face inscrutable. He stopped\n when the stoker was a few paces\n away. The stoker stopped, too. All\n the Jeks were watching him and paying\n no attention to anything else. The\n field might as well have been empty\n except for those two.\n\n\n \"They'll kill him. They'll kill him\n right now,\" MacReidie whispered.\n\n\n They ought to have. If I'd been\n a Jek, I would have thought that uniform\n was a death warrant. But the\n Jek spoke to him:\n\n\n \"Are you entitled to wear that?\"\n\n\n \"I was at this planet in '39. I was\n closer to your home world the year\n before that,\" the stoker said. \"I was\n captain of a destroyer. If I'd had a\n cruiser's range, I would have reached\n it.\" He looked at the Jek. \"Where\n were you?\"\n\n\n \"I was here when you were.\"\n\n\n \"I want to speak to your ship's\n captain.\"\n\n\n \"All right. I'll drive you over.\"\n\n\n The stoker nodded, and they walked\n over to his vehicle together. They\n drove away, toward the Jek ship.\n\n\n \"All right, let's get back to work,\"\n another Jek said to MacReidie and\n myself, and we went back to unloading\n cargo.\nThe stoker came back to our ship\n that night, without his duffelbag. He\n found me and said:\n\n\n \"I'm signing off the ship. Going\n with the Jeks.\"\n\n\n MacReidie was with me. He said\n loudly: \"What do you mean, you're\n going with the Jeks?\"\n\n\n \"I signed on their ship,\" the stoker\n said. \"Stoking. They've got a micro-nuclear\n drive. It's been a while since\n I worked with one, but I think I'll\n make out all right, even with the\n screwball way they've got it set up.\"\n\n\n \"Huh?\"\n\n\n The stoker shrugged. \"Ships are\n ships, and physics is physics, no matter\n where you go. I'll make out.\"\n\n\n \"What kind of a deal did you\n make with them? What do you think\n you're up to?\"\n\n\n The stoker shook his head. \"No\n deal. I signed on as a crewman. I'll\n do a crewman's work for a crewman's\n wages. I thought I'd wander around a\n while. It ought to be interesting,\" he\n said.\n\n\n \"On a Jek ship.\"\n\n\n \"Anybody's ship. When I get to\n their home world, I'll probably ship\n out with some people from farther\n on. Why not? It's honest work.\"\n\n\n MacReidie had no answer to that.\n\n\n \"But—\" I said.\n\n\n \"What?\" He looked at me as if\n he couldn't understand what might\n be bothering me, but I think perhaps\n he could.\n\n\n \"Nothing,\" I said, and that was\n that, except MacReidie was always a\n sourer man from that time up to as\n long as I knew him afterwards. We\n took off in the morning. The stoker\n had already left on the Jek ship, and\n it turned out he'd trained an apprentice\n boy to take his place.\nIt was strange how things became\n different for us, little by little after\n that. It was never anything you could\n put your finger on, but the Jeks began\n taking more goods, and giving us\n things we needed when we told them\n we wanted them. After a while,\nSerenus\nwas going a little deeper into\n Jek territory, and when she wore out,\n the two replacements let us trade with\n the Lud, too. Then it was the Nosurwey,\n and other people beyond them,\n and things just got better for us,\n somehow.\n\n\n We heard about our stoker, occasionally.\n He shipped with the Lud,\n and the Nosurwey, and some people\n beyond them, getting along, going to\n all kinds of places. Pay no attention\n to the precise red lines you see on the\n star maps; nobody knows exactly\n what path he wandered from people\n to people. Nobody could. He just\n kept signing on with whatever ship\n was going deeper into the galaxy,\n going farther and farther. He messed\n with green shipmates and blue ones.\n One and two and three heads, tails,\n six legs—after all, ships are ships\n and they've all got to have something\n to push them along. If a man knows\n his business, why not? A man can\n live on all kinds of food, if he wants\n to get used to it. And any nontoxic\n atmosphere will do, as long as there's\n enough oxygen in it.\n\n\n I don't know what he did, to make\n things so much better for us. I don't\n know if he did anything, but stoke\n their ships and, I suppose, fix them\n when they were in trouble. I wonder\n if he sang dirty songs in that bad\n voice of his, to people who couldn't\n possibly understand what the songs\n were about. All I know is, for some\n reason those people slowly began\n treating us with respect. We changed,\n too, I think—I'm not the same man\n I was ... I think—not altogether\n the same; I'm a captain now, with\n master's papers, and you won't find\n me in my cabin very often ... there's\n a kind of joy in standing on a bridge,\n looking out at the stars you're moving\n toward. I wonder if it mightn't\n have kept my old captain out of that\n place he died in, finally, if he'd tried\n it.\n\n\n So, I don't know. The older I get,\n the less I know. The thing people remember\n the stoker for—the thing\n that makes him famous, and, I think,\n annoys him—I'm fairly sure is only\n incidental to what he really did. If he\n did anything. If he meant to. I wish\n I could be sure of the exact answer\n he found in the bottom of that last\n glass at the bar before he worked his\n passage to Mars and the\nSerenus\n, and\n began it all.\n\n\n So, I can't say what he ought to be\n famous for. But I suppose it's enough\n to know for sure that he was the first\n living being ever to travel all the way\n around the galaxy.\nTHE END\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAstounding Science Fiction\nFebruary\n 1959. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was the name of the stoker from the title?", "question_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW_1", "options": ["MacReidie", "Baker", "Unknown", "Daniels"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the stranger want to join the trip?", "question_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW_2", "options": ["He wants to fight", "He wants to work", "He is desperate", "He is bored"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Do Mac and the narrator trust the stranger?", "question_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW_3", "options": ["No, he could cause trouble with other races", "Yes, he is a great stoker", "Yes, he was a respected marine", "No, he could cause trouble on the ship"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the Jeks allow the stranger on their ship?", "question_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW_4", "options": ["He snuck on", "He earned respect", "The will allow anyone on their ship", "He tricked them"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the stranger want to join the Jek crew?", "question_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW_5", "options": ["He wants to travel and work", "He is going to sabotage their nuclear drive", "He does not like his own people", "He wants to join the winning side"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did relations between humans and aliens improve after the stranger's travels?", "question_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW_6", "options": ["He put a face to the human race", "He just worked and traveled", "He did all of these things", "He proved the value of humanity"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following best describes the Jeks, Nosurwey, and Lud?", "question_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW_7", "options": ["Gentle", "Powerful", "Wise", "Grudge-holding"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following words best describes the stranger?", "question_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW_8", "options": ["Angry", "Tough", "Happy", "Lost"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following is a lesson we can learn from this story?", "question_unique_id": "22967_23S4S1XW_9", "options": ["Aliens are dangerous.", "Do not lose yourself in defeat", "Travel as much as possible", "Do your job without causing trouble"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/2/9/6/22967//22967-h//22967-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "23104", "set_unique_id": "23104_SRUMQVUD", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Blue Tower", "year": 1961, "author": "Smith, Evelyn E.", "topic": "PS; Short stories; Science fiction", "article": "THE\n\n BLUE\n\n TOWER\nBy EVELYN E. SMITH\nAs the vastly advanced guardians of mankind, the Belphins knew how to make a lesson stick—but whom?\nIllustrated by DICK FRANCIS\nTranscriber's Note:\n This etext was produced from Galaxy, February, 1958. Extensive research did not reveal any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\n\n\n Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n\n\n\n\n\n\n Ludovick Eversole sat in the golden sunshine outside his house, writing a poem as he watched the street flow gently past him. There were very few people on it, for he lived in a slow part of town, and those who went in for travel generally preferred streets where the pace was quicker.\n\n\n Moreover, on a sultry spring afternoon like this one, there would be few people wandering abroad. Most would be lying on sun-kissed white beaches or in sun-drenched parks, or, for those who did not fancy being either kissed or drenched by the sun, basking in the comfort of their own air-conditioned villas.\n\n\n Some would, like Ludovick, be writing poems; others composing symphonies; still others painting pictures. Those who were without creative talent or the inclination to indulge it would be relaxing their well-kept golden bodies in whatever surroundings they had chosen to spend this particular one of the perfect days that stretched in an unbroken line before every member of the human race from the cradle to the crematorium.\n\n\n Only the Belphins were much in evidence. Only the Belphins had duties to perform. Only the Belphins worked.\n\n\n Ludovick stretched his own well-kept golden body and rejoiced in the knowing that he was a man and not a Belphin. Immediately afterward, he was sorry for the heartless thought. Didn't the Belphins work only to serve humanity? How ungrateful, then, it was to gloat over them! Besides, he comforted himself, probably, if the truth were known, the Belphins\nliked\nto work. He hailed a passing Belphin for assurance on this point.\n\n\n Courteous, like all members of his species, the creature leaped from the street and listened attentively to the young man's question. \"We Belphins have but one like and one dislike,\" he replied. \"We like what is right and we dislike what is wrong.\"\n\n\n \"But how can you tell what is right and what is wrong?\" Ludovick persisted.\n\n\n \"We\nknow\n,\" the Belphin said, gazing reverently across the city to the blue spire of the tower where The Belphin of Belphins dwelt, in constant communication with every member of his race at all times, or so they said. \"That is why we were placed in charge of humanity. Someday you, too, may advance to the point where you\nknow\n, and we shall return whence we came.\"\n\n\n \"But\nwho\nplaced you in charge,\" Ludovick asked, \"and whence\ndid\nyou come?\" Fearing he might seem motivated by vulgar curiosity, he explained, \"I am doing research for an epic poem.\"\nA lifetime spent under their gentle guardianship had made Ludovick able to interpret the expression that flitted across this Belphin's frontispiece as a sad, sweet smile.\n\n\n \"We come from beyond the stars,\" he said. Ludovick already knew that; he had hoped for something a little more specific. \"We were placed in power by those who had the right. And the power through which we rule is the power of love! Be happy!\"\n\n\n And with that conventional farewell (which also served as a greeting), he stepped onto the sidewalk and was borne off. Ludovick looked after him pensively for a moment, then shrugged. Why\nshould\nthe Belphins surrender their secrets to gratify the idle curiosity of a poet?\n\n\n Ludovick packed his portable scriptwriter in its case and went to call on the girl next door, whom he loved with a deep and intermittently requited passion.\n\n\n As he passed between the tall columns leading into the Flockhart courtyard, he noted with regret that there were quite a number of Corisande's relatives present, lying about sunning themselves and sipping beverages which probably touched the legal limit of intoxicatability.\n\n\n Much as he hated to think harshly of anyone, he did not like Corisande Flockhart's relatives. He had never known anybody who had as many relatives as she did, and sometimes he suspected they were not all related to her. Then he would dismiss the thought as unworthy of him or any right-thinking human being. He loved Corisande for herself alone and not for her family. Whether they were actually her family or not was none of his business.\n\n\n \"Be happy!\" he greeted the assemblage cordially, sitting down beside Corisande on the tessellated pavement.\n\n\n \"Bah!\" said old Osmond Flockhart, Corisande's grandfather. Ludovick was sure that, underneath his crustiness, the gnarled patriarch hid a heart of gold. Although he had been mining assiduously, the young man had not yet been able to strike that vein; however, he did not give up hope, for not giving up hope was one of the principles that his wise old Belphin teacher had inculcated in him. Other principles were to lead the good life and keep healthy.\n\n\n \"Now, Grandfather,\" Corisande said, \"no matter what your politics, that does not excuse impoliteness.\"\n\n\n Ludovick wished she would not allude so blatantly to politics, because he had a lurking notion that Corisande's \"family\" was, in fact, a band of conspirators ... such as still dotted the green and pleasant planet and proved by their existence that Man was not advancing anywhere within measurable distance of that totality of knowledge implied by the Belphin.\n\n\n You could tell malcontents, even if they did not voice their dissatisfactions, by their faces. The vast majority of the human race, living good and happy lives, had smooth and pleasant faces. Malcontents' faces were lined and sometimes, in extreme cases, furrowed. Everyone could easily tell who they were by looking at them, and most people avoided them.\nIt was not that griping was illegal, for the Belphins permitted free speech and reasonable conspiracy; it was that such behavior was considered ungenteel. Ludovick would never have dreamed of associating with this set of neighbors, once he had discovered their tendencies, had he not lost his heart to the purple-eyed Corisande at their first meeting.\n\n\n \"Politeness, bah!\" old Osmond said. \"To see a healthy young man simply—simply accepting the status quo!\"\n\n\n \"If the status quo is a good status quo,\" Ludovick said uneasily, for he did not like to discuss such subjects, \"why should I not accept it? We have everything we could possibly want. What do we lack?\"\n\n\n \"Our freedom,\" Osmond retorted.\n\n\n \"But we\nare\nfree,\" Ludovick said, perplexed. \"We can say what we like, do what we like, so long as it is consonant with the public good.\"\n\n\n \"Ah, but who determines what is consonant with the public good?\"\n\n\n Ludovick could no longer temporize with truth, even for Corisande's sake. \"Look here, old man, I have read books. I know about the old days before the Belphins came from the stars. Men were destroying themselves quickly through wars, or slowly through want. There is none of that any more.\"\n\n\n \"All lies and exaggeration,\" old Osmond said. \"\nMy\ngrandfather told me that, when the Belphins took over Earth, they rewrote all the textbooks to suit their own purposes. Now nothing but Belphin propaganda is taught in the schools.\"\n\n\n \"But surely some of what they teach about the past must be true,\" Ludovick insisted. \"And today every one of us has enough to eat and drink, a place to live, beautiful garments to wear, and all the time in the world to utilize as he chooses in all sorts of pleasant activities. What is missing?\"\n\n\n \"They've taken away our frontiers!\"\n\n\n Behind his back, Corisande made a little filial face at Ludovick.\n\n\n Ludovick tried to make the old man see reason. \"But I'm happy. And everybody is happy, except—except a few\nkilljoys\nlike you.\"\n\n\n \"They certainly did a good job of brainwashing you, boy,\" Osmond sighed. \"And of most of the young ones,\" he added mournfully. \"With each succeeding generation, more of our heritage is lost.\" He patted the girl's hand. \"You're a good girl, Corrie. You don't hold with this being cared for like some damn pet poodle.\"\n\n\n \"Never mind Osmond, Eversole,\" one of Corisande's alleged uncles grinned. \"He talks a lot, but of course he doesn't mean a quarter of what he says. Come, have some wine.\"\nHe handed a glass to Ludovick. Ludovick sipped and coughed. It tasted as if it were well above the legal alcohol limit, but he didn't like to say anything. They were taking an awful risk, though, doing a thing like that. If they got caught, they might receive a public scolding—which was, of course, no more than they deserved—but he could not bear to think of Corisande exposed to such an ordeal.\n\n\n \"It's only reasonable,\" the uncle went on, \"that older people should have a—a thing about being governed by foreigners.\"\n\n\n Ludovick smiled and set his nearly full glass down on a plinth. \"You could hardly call the Belphins foreigners; they've been on Earth longer than even the oldest of us.\"\n\n\n \"You seem to be pretty chummy with 'em,\" the uncle said, looking narrow-eyed at Ludovick.\n\n\n \"No more so than any other loyal citizen,\" Ludovick replied.\n\n\n The uncle sat up and wrapped his arms around his thick bare legs. He was a powerful, hairy brute of a creature who had not taken advantage of the numerous cosmetic techniques offered by the benevolent Belphins. \"Don't you think it's funny they can breathe our air so easily?\"\n\n\n \"Why shouldn't they?\" Ludovick bit into an apple that Corisande handed him from one of the dishes of fruit and other delicacies strewn about the courtyard. \"It's excellent air,\" he continued through a full mouth, \"especially now that it's all purified. I understand that in the old days——\"\n\n\n \"Yes,\" the uncle said, \"but don't you think it's a coincidence they breathe exactly the same kind of air we do, considering they claim to come from another solar system?\"\n\n\n \"No coincidence at all,\" said Ludovick shortly, no longer able to pretend he didn't know what the other was getting at. He had heard the ugly rumor before. Of course sacrilege was not illegal, but it was in bad taste. \"Only one combination of elements spawns intelligent life.\"\n\n\n \"They say,\" the uncle continued, impervious to Ludovick's unconcealed dislike for the subject, \"that there's really only one Belphin, who lives in the Blue Tower—in a tank or something, because he can't breathe our atmosphere—and that the others are a sort of robot he sends out to do his work for him.\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense!\" Ludovick was goaded to irritation at last. \"How could a robot have that delicate play of expression, that subtle economy of movement?\"\n\n\n Corisande and the uncle exchanged glances. \"But they are absolutely blank,\" the uncle began hesitantly. \"Perhaps, with your rich poetic imagination....\"\n\n\n \"See?\" old Osmond remarked with satisfaction. \"The kid's brain-washed. I told you so.\"\n\"Even if The Belphin is a single entity,\" Ludovick went on, \"that doesn't necessarily make him less benevolent——\"\n\n\n He was again interrupted by the grandfather. \"I won't listen to any more of this twaddle. Benevolent, bah! He or she or it or them is or are just plain exploiting us! Taking our mineral resources away—I've seen 'em loading ore on the spaceships—and——\"\n\n\n \"—and exchanging it for other resources from the stars,\" Ludovick said tightly, \"without which we could not have the perfectly balanced society we have today. Without which we would be, technologically, back in the dark ages from which they rescued us.\"\n\n\n \"It's not the stuff they bring in from outside that runs this technology,\" the uncle said. \"It's some power they've got that we can't seem to figure out. Though Lord knows we've tried,\" he added musingly.\n\n\n \"Of course they have their own source of power,\" Ludovick informed them, smiling to himself, for his old Belphin teacher had taken great care to instill a sense of humor into him. \"A Belphin was explaining that to me only today.\"\n\n\n Twenty heads swiveled toward him. He felt uncomfortable, for he was a modest young man and did not like to be the cynosure of all eyes.\n\n\n \"Tell us, dear boy,\" the uncle said, grabbing Ludovick's glass from the plinth and filling it, \"what exactly did he say?\"\n\n\n \"He said the Belphins rule through the power of love.\"\n\n\n The glass crashed to the tesserae as the uncle uttered a very unworthy word.\n\n\n \"And I suppose it was love that killed Mieczyslaw and George when they tried to storm the Blue Tower——\" old Osmond began, then halted at the looks he was getting from everybody.\n\n\n Ludovick could no longer pretend his neighbors were a group of eccentrics whom he himself was eccentric enough to regard as charming.\n\n\n \"So!\" He stood up and wrapped his mantle about him. \"I knew you were against the government, and, of course, you have a legal right to disagree with its policies, but I didn't think you were actual—actual—\" he dredged a word up out of his schooldays—\"\nanarchists\n.\"\nHe turned to the girl, who was looking thoughtful as she stroked the glittering jewel that always hung at her neck. \"Corisande, how can you stay with these—\" he found another word—\"these\nsubversives\n?\"\n\n\n She smiled sadly. \"Don't forget: they're my family, Ludovick, and I owe them dutiful respect, no matter how pig-headed they are.\" She pressed his hand. \"But don't give up hope.\"\n\n\n That rang a bell inside his brain. \"I won't,\" he vowed, giving her hand a return squeeze. \"I promise I won't.\"\nOutside the Flockhart villa, he paused, struggling with his inner self. It was an unworthy thing to inform upon one's neighbors; on the other hand, could he stand idly by and let those neighbors attempt to destroy the social order? Deciding that the greater good was the more important—and that, moreover, it was the only way of taking Corisande away from all this—he went in search of a Belphin. That is, he waited until one glided past and called to him to leave the walk.\n\n\n \"I wish to report a conspiracy at No. 7 Mimosa Lane,\" he said. \"The girl is innocent, but the others are in it to the hilt.\"\n\n\n The Belphin appeared to think for a minute. Then he gave off a smile. \"Oh, them,\" he said. \"We know. They are harmless.\"\n\n\n \"Harmless!\" Ludovick repeated. \"Why, I understand they've already tried to—to attack the Blue Tower by\nforce\n!\"\n\n\n \"Quite. And failed. For we are protected from hostile forces, as you were told earlier, by the power of love.\"\n\n\n Ludovick knew, of course, that the Belphin used the word\nlove\nmetaphorically, that the Tower was protected by a series of highly efficient barriers of force to repel attackers—barriers which, he realized now, from the sad fate of Mieczyslaw and George, were potentially lethal. However, he did not blame the Belphin for being so cagy about his race's source of power, not with people like the Flockharts running about subverting and whatnot.\n\n\n \"You certainly do have a wonderful intercommunication system,\" he murmured.\n\n\n \"Everything about us is wonderful,\" the Belphin said noncommittally. \"That's why we're so good to you people. Be happy!\" And he was off.\n\n\n But Ludovick could not be happy. He wasn't precisely sad yet, but he was thoughtful. Of course the Belphins knew better than he did, but still.... Perhaps they underestimated the seriousness of the Flockhart conspiracy. On the other hand, perhaps it was he who was taking the Flockharts too seriously. Maybe he should investigate further before doing anything rash.\n\n\n Later that night, he slipped over to the Flockhart villa and nosed about in the courtyard until he found the window behind which the family was conspiring. He peered through a chink in the curtains, so he could both see and hear.\n\n\n Corisande was saying, \"And so I think there is a lot in what Ludovick said....\"\n\n\n Bless her, he thought emotionally. Even in the midst of her plotting, she had time to spare a kind word for him. And then it hit him:\nshe, too, was a plotter\n.\n\n\n \"You suggest that we try to turn the power of love against the Belphins?\" the uncle asked ironically.\n\n\n Corisande gave a rippling laugh as she twirled her glittering pendant. \"In a manner of speaking,\" she said. \"I have an idea for a secret weapon which might do the trick——\"\nAt that moment, Ludovick stumbled over a jug which some careless relative had apparently left lying about the courtyard. It crashed to the tesserae, spattering Ludovick's legs and sandals with a liquid which later proved to be extremely red wine.\n\n\n \"There's someone outside!\" the uncle declared, half-rising.\n\n\n \"Nonsense!\" Corisande said, putting her hand on his shoulder. \"I didn't hear anything.\"\n\n\n The uncle looked dubious, and Ludovick thought it prudent to withdraw at this point. Besides, he had heard enough. Corisande—his Corisande—was an integral part of the conspiracy.\n\n\n He lay down to sleep that night beset by doubts. If he told the Belphins about the conspiracy, he would be betraying Corisande. As a matter of fact, he now remembered, he\nhad\nalready told them about the conspiracy and they hadn't believed him. But supposing he could\nconvince\nthem, how could he give Corisande up to them? True, it was the right thing to do—but, for the first time in his life, he could not bring himself to do what he knew to be right. He was weak, weak—and weakness was sinful. His old Belphin teacher had taught him that, too.\n\n\n As Ludovick writhed restlessly upon his bed, he became aware that someone had come into his chamber.\n\n\n \"Ludovick,\" a soft, beloved voice whispered, \"I have come to ask your help....\" It was so dark, he could not see her; he knew where she was only by the glitter of the jewel on her neck-chain as it arced through the blackness.\n\n\n \"Corisande....\" he breathed.\n\n\n \"Ludovick....\" she sighed.\n\n\n Now that the amenities were over, she resumed, \"Against my will, I have been involved in the family plot. My uncle has invented a secret weapon which he believes will counteract the power of the barriers.\"\n\n\n \"But I thought you devised it!\"\n\n\n \"So it\nwas\nyou in the courtyard. Well, what happened was I wanted to gain time, so I said I had a secret weapon of my own invention which I had not perfected, but which would cost considerably less than my uncle's model. We have to watch the budget, you know, because we can hardly expect the Belphins to supply the components for this job. Anyhow, I thought that, while my folks were waiting for me to finish it, you would have a chance to warn the Belphins.\"\n\n\n \"Corisande,\" he murmured, \"you are as noble and clever as you are beautiful.\"\nThen he caught the full import of her remarks. \"\nMe!\nBut they won't pay any attention to me!\"\n\n\n \"How do you know?\" When he remained silent, she said, \"I suppose you've already tried to warn them about us.\"\n\n\n \"I—I said\nyou\nhad nothing to do with the plot.\"\n\n\n \"That was good of you.\" She continued in a warmer tone: \"How many Belphins did you warn, then?\"\n\n\n \"Just one. When you tell one something, you tell them all. You know that. Everyone knows that.\"\n\n\n \"That's just theory,\" she said. \"It's never been proven. All we do know is that they have some sort of central clearing house of information, presumably The Belphin of Belphins. But we don't know that they are incapable of thinking or acting individually. We don't really know much about them at all; they're very secretive.\"\n\n\n \"Aloof,\" he corrected her, \"as befits a ruling race. But always affable.\"\n\n\n \"You must warn as many Belphins as you can.\"\n\n\n \"And if none listens to me?\"\n\n\n \"Then,\" she said dramatically, \"you must approach The Belphin of Belphins himself.\"\n\n\n \"But no human being has ever come near him!\" he said plaintively. \"You know that all those who have tried perished. And that can't be a rumor, because your grandfather said——\"\n\n\n \"But they came to\nattack\nThe Belphin. You're coming to\nwarn\nhim! That makes a big difference. Ludovick....\" She took his hands in hers; in the darkness, the jewel swung madly on her presumably heaving bosom. \"This is bigger than both of us. It's for Earth.\"\n\n\n He knew it was his patriotic duty to do as she said; still, he had enjoyed life so much. \"Corisande, wouldn't it be much simpler if we just destroyed your uncle's secret weapon?\"\n\n\n \"He'd only make another. Don't you see, Ludovick, this is our only chance to save the Belphins, to save humanity.... But, of course, I don't have the right to send you. I'll go myself.\"\n\n\n \"No, Corisande,\" he sighed. \"I can't let you go. I'll do it.\"\nNext morning, he set out to warn Belphins. He knew it wasn't much use, but it was all he could do. The first half dozen responded in much the same way the Belphin he had warned the previous day had done, by courteously acknowledging his solicitude and assuring him there was no need for alarm; they knew all about the Flockharts and everything would be all right.\n\n\n After that, they started to get increasingly huffy—which would, he thought, substantiate the theory that they were all part of one vast coordinate network of identity. Especially since each Belphin behaved as if Ludovick had been repeatedly annoying\nhim\n.\n\n\n Finally, they refused to get off the walks when he hailed them—which was unheard of, for no Belphin had ever before failed to respond to an Earthman's call—and when he started running along the walks after them, they ran much faster than he could.\n\n\n At last he gave up and wandered about the city for hours, speaking to neither human nor Belphin, wondering what to do. That is, he knew what he had to do; he was wondering\nhow\nto do it. He would never be able to reach The Belphin of Belphins. No human being had ever done it. Mieczyslaw and George had died trying to reach him (or it). Even though their intentions had been hostile and Ludovick's would be helpful, there was little chance he would be allowed to reach The Belphin with all the other Belphins against him. What guarantee was there that The Belphin would not be against him, too?\n\n\n And yet he knew that he would have to risk his life; there was no help for it. He had never wanted to be a hero, and here he had heroism thrust upon him. He knew he could not succeed; equally well, he knew he could not turn back, for his Belphin teacher had instructed him in the meaning of duty.\n\n\n It was twilight when he approached the Blue Tower. Commending himself to the Infinite Virtue, he entered. The Belphin at the reception desk did not give off the customary smiling expression. In fact, he seemed to radiate a curiously apprehensive aura.\n\n\n \"Go back, young man,\" he said. \"You're not wanted here.\"\n\n\n \"I must see The Belphin of Belphins. I must warn him against the Flockharts.\"\n\n\n \"He has been warned,\" the receptionist told him. \"Go home and be happy!\"\n\n\n \"I don't trust you or your brothers. I must see The Belphin himself.\"\n\n\n Suddenly this particular Belphin lost his commanding manners. He began to wilt, insofar as so rigidly constructed a creature could go limp. \"Please, we've done so much for you. Do this for us.\"\n\n\n \"The Belphin of Belphins did things for us,\" Ludovick countered. \"You are all only his followers. How do I know you are\nreally\nfollowing him? How do I know you haven't turned against him?\"\n\n\n Without giving the creature a chance to answer, he strode forward. The Belphin attempted to bar his way. Ludovick knew one Belphin was a myriad times as strong as a human, so it was out of utter futility that he struck.\n\n\n The Belphin collapsed completely, flying apart in a welter of fragile springs and gears. The fact was of some deeper significance, Ludovick knew, but he was too numbed by his incredible success to be able to think clearly. All he knew was that The Belphin would be able to explain things to him.\nBells began to clash and clang. That meant the force barriers had gone up. He could see the shimmering insubstance of the first one before him. Squaring his shoulders, he charged it ... and walked right through. He looked himself up and down. He was alive and entire.\n\n\n Then the whole thing was a fraud; the barriers were not lethal—or perhaps even actual. But what of Mieczyslaw? And George? And countless rumored others? He would not let himself even try to think of them. He would not let himself even try to think of anything save his duty.\n\n\n A staircase spiraled up ahead of him. A Belphin was at its foot. Behind him, a barrier iridesced.\n\n\n \"Please, young man——\" the Belphin began. \"You don't understand. Let me explain.\"\n\n\n But Ludovick destroyed the thing before it could say anything further, and he passed right through the barrier. He had to get to the top and warn The Belphin of Belphins, whoever or whatever he (or it) was, that the Flockharts had a secret weapon which might be able to annihilate it (or him). Belphin after Belphin Ludovick destroyed, and barrier after barrier he penetrated until he reached the top. At the head of the stairs was a vast golden door.\n\n\n \"Go no further, Ludovick Eversole!\" a mighty voice roared from within. \"To open that door is to bring disaster upon your race.\"\n\n\n But all Ludovick knew was that he had to get to The Belphin within and warn him. He battered down the door; that is, he would have battered down the door if it had not turned out to be unlocked. A stream of noxious vapor rushed out of the opening, causing him to black out.\n\n\n When he came to, most of the vapor had dissipated. The Belphin of Belphins was already dying of asphyxiation, since it was, in fact, a single alien entity who breathed another combination of elements. The room at the head of the stairs had been its tank.\n\n\n \"You fool....\" it gasped. \"Through your muddle-headed integrity ... you have destroyed not only me ... but Earth's future. I tried to make ... this planet a better place for humanity ... and this is my reward....\"\n\n\n \"But I don't understand!\" Ludovick wept. \"\nWhy\ndid you let me do it? Why were Mieczyslaw and George and all the others killed? Why was it that I could pass the barriers and they could not?\"\n\n\n \"The barriers were triggered ... to respond to hostility.... You meant well ... so our defenses ... could not work.\" Ludovick had to bend low to hear the creature's last words: \"There is ... Earth proverb ... should have warned me ... 'I can protect myself ... against my enemies ... but who will protect me ... from my friends'...?\"\n\n\n The Belphin of Belphins died in Ludovick's arms. He was the last of his race, so far as Earth was concerned, for no more came. If, as they had said themselves, some outside power had sent them to take care of the human race, then that power had given up the race as a bad job. If they were merely exploiting Earth, as the malcontents had kept suggesting, apparently it had proven too dangerous or too costly a venture.\nShortly after The Belphin's demise, the Flockharts arrived en masse. \"We won't need your secret weapons now,\" Ludovick told them dully. \"The Belphin of Belphins is dead.\"\n\n\n Corisande gave one of the rippling laughs he was to grow to hate so much. \"Darling,\nyou\nwere my secret weapon all along!\" She beamed at her \"relatives,\" and it was then he noticed the faint lines of her forehead. \"I told you I could use the power of love to destroy the Belphins!\" And then she added gently: \"I think there is no doubt who is head of 'this family' now.\"\n\n\n The uncle gave a strained laugh. \"You're going to have a great little first lady there, boy,\" he said to Ludovick.\n\n\n \"First lady?\" Ludovick repeated, still absorbed in his grief.\n\n\n \"Yes, I imagine the people will want to make you our first President by popular acclaim.\"\n\n\n Ludovick looked at him through a haze of tears. \"But I killed The Belphin. I didn't mean to, but ... they must hate me!\"\n\n\n \"Nonsense, my boy; they'll adore you. You'll be a hero!\"\n\n\n Events proved him right. Even those people who had lived in apparent content under the Belphins, accepting what they were given and seemingly enjoying their carefree lives, now declared themselves to have been suffering in silent resentment all along. They hurled flowers and adulatory speeches at Ludovick and composed extremely flattering songs about him.\n\n\n Shortly after he was universally acclaimed President, he married Corisande. He couldn't escape.\n\n\n \"Why doesn't she become President herself?\" he wailed, when the relatives came and found him hiding in the ruins of the Blue Tower. The people had torn the Tower down as soon as they were sure The Belphin was dead and the others thereby rendered inoperant. \"It would spare her a lot of bother.\"\n\n\n \"Because she is not The Belphin-slayer,\" the uncle said, dragging him out. \"Besides, she loves you. Come on, Ludovick, be a man.\" So they hauled him off to the wedding and, amid much feasting, he was married to Corisande.\nHe never drew another happy breath. In the first place, now that The Belphin was dead, all the machinery that had been operated by him stopped and no one knew how to fix it. The sidewalks stopped moving, the air conditioners stopped conditioning, the food synthesizers stopped synthesizing, and so on. And, of course, everybody blamed it all on Ludovick—even that year's run of bad weather.\n\n\n There were famines, riots, plagues, and, after the waves of mob hostility had coalesced into national groupings, wars. It was like the old days again, precisely as described in the textbooks.\n\n\n In the second place, Ludovick could never forget that, when Corisande had sent him to the Blue Tower, she could not have been sure that her secret weapon would work. Love might\nnot\nhave conquered all—in fact, it was the more likely hypothesis that it wouldn't—and he would have been killed by the first barrier. And no husband likes to think that his wife thinks he's expendable; it makes him feel she doesn't really love him.\n\n\n So, in thirtieth year of his reign as Dictator of Earth, Ludovick poisoned Corisande—that is, had her poisoned, for by now he had a Minister of Assassination to handle such little matters—and married a very pretty, very young, very affectionate blonde. He wasn't particularly happy with her, either, but at least it was a change.\n\n\n\n\n —EVELYN E. SMITH\n", "questions": [{"question": "Did Ludovick love Corisande?", "question_unique_id": "23104_SRUMQVUD_1", "options": ["No, she tricked him into killing Belphin", "Yes, he loved her before he married her", "Yes, he loved her until death", "No, he had her murdered"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Ludovick able to get to the Belphin of Belphins?", "question_unique_id": "23104_SRUMQVUD_2", "options": ["He used Corisande's uncle's secret weapon", "He destroyed the machines", "He had only love for Belphin", "His need was high enough"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is it important that Corisande's wrinkles show?", "question_unique_id": "23104_SRUMQVUD_3", "options": ["They show that she is dying", "They point out how old she is", "They reveal her true character", "Ludovick thinks they're ugly"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "According to the story, is the Belphin good or evil?", "question_unique_id": "23104_SRUMQVUD_4", "options": ["He is good because he knows right and wrong", "Everyone has different opinions", "He is evil because he is controlling humans", "He is good because he is helping humans"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "00NA", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Belphin controlling Earth?", "question_unique_id": "23104_SRUMQVUD_5", "options": ["He wants to make lives better for humans", "He wants to weaken the human race", "He wants to rule", "We never learn"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Does Corisande love Ludovick?", "question_unique_id": "23104_SRUMQVUD_6", "options": ["No, she used him for her ends", "Yes, her uncle said so", "Yes, they got married", "No, she wanted to be President"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was a sign that Corisande's family was up to no good?", "question_unique_id": "23104_SRUMQVUD_7", "options": ["The wine they were drinking", "All of these are signs", "Having secret meetings", "Gathering in such large numbers"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0004", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/0/23104//23104-h//23104-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "23160", "set_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Solomon's Orbit", "year": 1974, "author": "Carroll, William", "topic": "Science fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "Solomon's Orbit\nThere will, sooner or later, be problems\n\n of \"space junk,\" and the right to dump in space.\n\n But not like this...!\nby William Carroll\nIllustrated by Schoenherr\n\n\n \"Comrades,\" said the senior technician,\n \"notice the clear view of\n North America. From here we\n watch everything; rivers, towns,\n almost the people. And see, our\n upper lens shows the dark spot of\n a meteor in space. Comrades, the\n meteor gets larger. It is going to\n pass close to our wondrous\n machine. Comrades ... Comrades ... turn\n to my channel. It is no\n meteor—it is square. The accursed\n Americans have sent up a house.\n Comrades ... an ancient automobile\n is flying toward our space\n machine. Comrades ... it is going\n to—Ah ... the picture is\n gone.\"\n\n\n Moscow reported the conversation,\n verbatim, to prove their space\n vehicle was knocked from the sky\n by a capitalistic plot. Motion pictures\n clearly showed an American\n automobile coming toward the\n Russian satellite. Russian astronomers\n ordered to seek other strange\n orbiting devices reported: \"We've\n observed cars for weeks. Have been\n exiling technicians and photographers\n to Siberia for making jokes\n of Soviet science. If television\n proves ancient automobiles are\n orbiting the world, Americans are\n caught in obvious attempt to ridicule\n our efforts to probe mysteries\n of space.\"\nConfusion was also undermining\n American scientific study of the\n heavens. At Mount Palomar the\n busy 200-inch telescope was\n photographing a strange new object,\n but plates returned from the\n laboratory caused astronomers to\n explode angrily. In full glory, the\n photograph showed a tiny image of\n an ancient car. This first development\n only affected two photographers\n at Mount Palomar. They were\n fired for playing practical jokes on\n the astronomers. Additional exposures\n of other newfound objects\n were made. Again the plates were\n returned; this time with three little\n old cars parading proudly across the\n heavens as though they truly belonged\n among the stars.\n\n\n The night the Russian protest\n crossed trails with the Palomar\n report, Washington looked like a\n kid with chicken pox, as dozens\n of spotty yellow windows marked\n midnight meetings of the nation's\n greatest minds. The military denied\n responsibility for cars older than\n 1942. Civil aviation proved they\n had no projects involving motor\n vehicles. Central Intelligence swore\n on their classification manual they\n were not dropping junk over Cuba\n in an attempt to hit Castro. Disgusted,\n the President established a\n civilian commission which soon\n located three more reports.\n\n\n Two were from fliers. The pilot\n of Flight 26, New York to Los\n Angeles, had two weeks before\n reported a strange object rising\n over Southern California about ten\n the evening of April 3rd. A week\n after this report, a private pilot\n on his way from Las Vegas claimed\n seeing an old car flying over Los\n Angeles. His statement was ignored,\n as he was arrested later\n while trying to drink himself silly\n because no one believed his story.\n\n\n Fortunately, at the approximate\n times both pilots claimed sighting\n unknown objects, radar at Los\n Angeles International recorded\n something rising from earth's surface\n into the stratosphere. Within\n hours after the three reports met,\n in the President's commission's\n office, mobile radar was spotted on\n Southern California hilltops in\n twenty-four-hour watches for unscheduled\n flights not involving\n aircraft.\n\n\n Number Seven, stationed in the\n Mount Wilson television tower\n parking lot, caught one first. \"Hey\n fellows,\" came his excited voice,\n \"check 124 degrees, vector 62 now ... rising ... 124\n degrees ... vector 66 ... rising—\"\nNine\nand\nFour\ncaught it moments\n later. Then\nThree\n, Army long-range\n radar, picked it up. \"O.K., we're\n on. It's still rising ... leaving\n the atmosphere ... gone. Anyone\n else catch it?\" Negative responses\n came from all but\nSeven\n,\nNine\nand\nFour\n. So well spread were\n they, that within minutes headquarters\n had laid four lines over\n Southern California. They crossed\n where the unsuspecting community\n of Fullerton was more or less sound\n asleep, totally unaware of the\n making of history in its back yard.\nThe history of what astronomers\n call Solomon's Orbit had its beginning\n about three months ago.\n Solomon, who couldn't remember\n his first name, was warming tired\n bones in the sun, in front of his\n auto-wrecking yard a mile south of\n Fullerton. Though sitting, he was\n propped against the office; a tin\n shed decorated like a Christmas tree\n with hundreds of hub caps dangling\n from sagging wooden rafters. The\n back door opened on two acres of\n what Solomon happily agreed was\n the finest junk in all California.\n Fords on the left, Chevys on the\n right, and across the sagging back\n fence, a collection of honorable\n sedans whose makers left the business\n world years ago. They were\n known as Solomon's \"Classics.\"\n\n\n The bright sun had Solomon's\n tiny eyes burrowed under a shaggy\n brow which, added to an Einstein-like\n shock of white hair, gave him\n the appearance of a professor on\n sabbatical. Eyes closed, Solomon\n was fondling favorite memories,\n when as a lad he repaired steam\n tractors and followed wheat across\n central plains of the United States.\n Happiness faded as the reverie was\n broken by spraying gravel signaling\n arrival of a customer's car.\n\n\n \"There's Uncle Solomon, Dad,\"\n a boy's voice was saying. \"He gives\n us kids good deals on hot-rod parts.\n You've just gotta take a look at\n his old cars, 'cause if you want\n a classic Uncle Solomon would\n make you a good deal, too. I just\n know he would.\"\n\n\n \"Sure, Son, let's go in and see\n what he's got,\" replied a man's\n voice. As Solomon opened his eyes,\n the two popped into reality. Heaving\n himself out of the sports car\n bucket seat that was his office\n chair, Solomon stood awaiting approach\n of the pair.\n\n\n \"Mr Solomon, Georgie here\n tells me you have some fine old\n cars for sale?\"\n\n\n \"Sure have. Sure have. They're\n in back. Come along. I'll show you\n the short cuts.\" Without waiting\n for a reply, Solomon started, head\n bent, white hair blowing; through\n the office, out the back door and\n down passages hardly wide enough\n for a boy, let alone a man. He disappeared\n around a hearse, and surfaced\n on the other side of a convertible,\n leading the boy and his\n father a chase that was more a\n guided tour of Solomon's yard than\n a short cut. \"Yes, sir, here they\n are,\" announced Solomon over his\n shoulder. Stepping aside he made\n room for the boy and his father to\n pass, between a couple of Ford\n Tudors.\n\n\n Three pair of eyes, one young,\n one old, the other tired, were faced\n by two rows of hulks, proud in the\n silent agony of their fate. Sold,\n resold and sold again, used until\n exhaustion set in, they reached\n Solomon's for a last brave stand.\n No matter what beauties they were\n to Solomon's prejudiced eyes; missing\n fenders, rusted body panels,\n broken wheels and rotted woodwork\n bespoke the utter impossibility\n of restoration.\n\n\n \"See, Dad, aren't they great?\"\n Georgie gleefully asked. He could\n just imagine shaking the guys at\n school with the old Packard, after\n Dad restored it.\n\n\n \"Are you kidding?\" Georgie's\n Dad exploded, \"Those wrecks\n aren't good for anything but shooting\n at the moon. Let's go.\" Not\n another word did he say. Heading\n back to the car parked outside\n Solomon's office, his footsteps were\n echoed by those of a crestfallen boy.\n Solomon, a figure of lonely dejection\n in the gloom overshadowing his\n unloved old cars, was troubled with\n smog causing his eyes to water as\n tired feet aimlessly found their way\n back to his seat in the sun.\n\n\n That night, to take his mind off\n worrisome old cars, Solomon began\n reading the previous Sunday's\n newspaper. There were pictures of\n moon shots, rockets and astronauts,\n which started Solomon to thinking;\n \"So, my classics are good only for\n shooting at the moon. This thing\n called an ion engine, which creates\n a force field to move satellites,\n seems like a lot of equipment. Could\n do it easier with one of my old\n engines, I bet.\"\n\n\n As Solomon told the people in\n Washington several months later,\n he was only resting his eyes, thinking\n about shop manuals and parts\n in the back yard. When suddenly he\n figured there was an easier way to\n build a satellite power plant. But,\n as it was past his bedtime, he'd\n put one together tomorrow.\n\n\n It was late the next afternoon\n before Solomon had a chance to\n try his satellite power plant idea.\n Customers were gone and he was\n free of interruption. The engine\n of his elderly Moreland tow-truck\n was brought to life by Solomon\n almost hidden behind the huge\n wooden steering wheel. The truck\n lumbered carefully down rows of\n cars to an almost completely\n stripped wreck holding only a\n broken engine. In a few minutes,\n Solomon had the engine waving\n behind the truck while he reversed\n to a clear space near the center of\n his yard.\n\n\n Once the broken engine was\n blocked upright on the ground,\n Solomon backed his Moreland out\n of the way, carried a tray of tools\n to the engine and squatted in the\n dirt to work. First, the intake\n manifold came off and was bolted\n to the clutch housing so the carburetor\n mounting flange faced skyward.\n Solomon stopped for a minute\n to worry. \"If it works,\" he\n thought, \"when I get them nearer\n each other, it'll go up in my face.\"\n Scanning the yard he thought of\n fenders, doors, wheels, hub caps\n and ... that was it. A hub cap\n would do the trick.\n\n\n At his age, running was a senseless\n activity, but walking faster\n than usual, Solomon took a direct\n route to his office. From the ceiling\n of hub caps, he selected a small cap\n from an old Chevy truck. Back at\n the engine, he punched a hole in\n the cap, through which he tied a\n length of strong twine. The cap was\n laid on the carburetor flange and\n stuck in place with painter's masking\n tape. He then bolted the\n exhaust manifold over the intake\n so the muffler connection barely\n touched the hub cap. Solomon\n stood up, kicked the manifolds\n with his heavy boots to make sure\n they were solid and grunted with\n satisfaction of a job well done.\n\n\n He moved his tray of tools away\n and trailed the hub cap twine behind\n the solid body of a big old\n Ford station wagon. He'd read of\n scientists in block houses when\n they shot rockets and was taking\n no chances. Excitement glistened\n Solomon's old eyes as what blood\n pressure there was rose a point or\n two with happy thoughts. If his\n idea worked, he would be free of\n the old cars, yet not destroy a single\n one. Squatting behind the station\n wagon, to watch the engine, Solomon\n gingerly pulled the twine to\n eliminate slack. As it tightened, he\n tensed, braced himself with a free\n hand on the wagon's bumper, and\n taking a deep breath, jerked the\n cord. Tired legs failed and Solomon\n slipped backward when the hub\n cap broke free of the tape and sailed\n through the air to clang against\n the wagon's fender. Lying on his\n back, struggling to rise, Solomon\n heard a slight swish as though a\n whirlwind had come through the\n yard. The scent of air-borne dust\n bit his nostrils as he struggled\n to his feet.\nDeep in the woods behind Solomon's\n yard two boys were hunting\n crows. Eyes high, they scanned\n branches and horizons for game.\n \"Look, there goes one,\" the\n younger cried as a large dark object\n majestically rose into the sky and\n rapidly disappeared into high\n clouds.\n\n\n \"Yup, maybe so,\" said the other.\n \"But it's flying too high for us.\"\n\"I must be a silly old man,\" Solomon\n thought, scanning the cleared\n space behind his tow truck where\n he remembered an engine. There\n was nothing there, and as Solomon\n now figured it, never had been.\n Heart heavy with belief in the\n temporary foolishness of age, Solomon\n went to the hub cap, glittering\n the sun where it lit after bouncing\n off the fender. It was untied from\n the string, and in the tool tray,\n before Solomon realized he'd not\n been daydreaming. In the cleared\n area, were two old manifold\n gaskets, several rusty nuts, and dirt\n blown smooth in a wide circle\n around greasy blocks on which he'd\n propped the now missing engine.\n\n\n That night was a whirlwind of\n excitement for Solomon. He had\n steak for dinner, then sat back to\n consider future success. Once the\n classic cars were gone, he could use\n the space for more profitable Fords\n and Chevys. All he'd have to do\n would be bolt manifolds from spare\n engines on a different car every\n night, and he'd be rid of it. All he\n used was vacuum in the intake\n manifold, drawing pressure from\n the outlet side of the exhaust. The\n resulting automatic power flow\n raised anything they were attached\n to. Solomon couldn't help but\n think, \"The newspapers said scientists\n were losing rockets and space\n capsules, so a few old cars could get\n lost in the clouds without hurting\n anything.\"\n\n\n Early the next morning, he\n towed the oldest hulk, an Essex, to\n the cleared space. Manifolds from\n junk engines were bolted to the\n wheels but this time carburetor\n flanges were covered by wooden\n shingles because Solomon figured\n he couldn't afford to ruin four salable\n hub caps just to get rid of his\n old sedans. Each shingle was taped\n in place so they could be pulled\n off in unison with a strong pull on\n the twine. The tired Essex was\n pretty big, so Solomon waited until\n bedtime before stumbling through\n the dark to the launching pad in\n his yard. Light from kitchen\n matches helped collect the shingle\n cords as he crouched behind the\n Ford wagon. He held the cords\n in one calloused hand, a burning\n match in the other so he could\n watch the Essex. Solomon tightened\n his fist, gave a quick tug to\n jerk all shingles at the same time,\n and watched in excited satisfaction\n as the old sedan rose in a soft\n swish of midsummer air flowing\n through ancient curves of four\n rusty manifold assemblies.\n\n\n Day after day, only a mile from\n Fullerton, Solomon busied himself\n buying wrecked cars and selling\n usable parts. Each weekday night—Solomon\n never worked on Sunday—another\n old car from his back lot\n went silently heavenward with the\n aid of Solomon's unique combination\n of engine vacuum and exhaust\n pressure. His footsteps were\n light with accomplishment as he\n thought, \"In four more days,\n they'll all be gone.\"\nWhile the Fullerton radar net\n smoked innumerable cigarettes and\n cursed luck ruining the evening,\n Solomon scrambled two eggs, enjoyed\n his coffee and relaxed with\n a newly found set of old 1954 Buick\n shop manuals. As usual, when the\n clock neared ten, he closed his\n manuals and let himself out the\n back door.\n\n\n City lights, reflected in low\n clouds, brightened the way Solomon\n knew well. He was soon kneeling\n behind the Ford wagon without\n having stumbled once. Only two\n kitchen matches were needed to\n collect the cords from a big Packard,\n handsome in the warmth of a\n moonless summer night. With a\n faint \"God Bless You,\" Solomon\n pulled the shingles and watched\n its massive hulk rise and disappear\n into orbit with his other orphans.\n\n\n If you'd been able to see it all,\n you'd have worried. The full circle\n of radar and communications crews\n around Fullerton had acted as\n though the whole town were going\n to pussyfoot away at sundown.\nNine\nwas hidden in a curious farmer's\n orange grove.\nSeven\nwas tucked\n between station wagons in the back\n row of a used car lot.\nFour\nwas\n assigned the loading dock of a\n meat-packing plant, but the night\n watchman wouldn't allow them to\n stay. They moved across the street\n behind a fire station.\nThree\nwas too\n big to hide, so it opened for business\n inside the National Guard\n Armory.\n\n\n They all caught the Packard's\n takeoff. Degree lines from the four\n stations around Fullerton were\n crossed on the map long before\n Solomon reached his back door.\n By the time bedroom lights were\n out and covers under his bristly\n chin, a task force of quiet men was\n speeding on its way to surround\n four blocks of country land; including\n a chicken ranch, Solomon's\n junk yard and a small frame house.\n Dogs stirred, yapping at sudden\n activity they alone knew of, then\n nose to tail, returned to sleep when\n threats of intrusion failed to materialize.\n\n\n The sun was barely up when the\n chicken farmer was stopped a block\n from his house, Highway patrolmen\n slowly inspected his truck\n from front to back, while three cars\n full of civilians, by the side of the\n road, watched every move. Finding\n nothing unusual, a patrolman reported\n to the first civilian car then\n returned to wave the farmer on\n his way. When the widow teacher\n from the frame house, started for\n school, she too, was stopped.\n After a cursory inspection the\n patrolman passed her on. Two of\n the three accounted for. What of\n the third?\nQuietly a cavalcade formed, converged\n in Solomon's front yard and\n parked facing the road ready for\n quick departure. Some dozen civilians\n muddied shoes and trousers\n circling the junk yard, taking stations\n so they could watch all\n approaches. Once they were in\n position, a Highway patrolman and\n two civilians went to Solomon's\n door.\n\n\n His last cup of coffee was almost\n gone as Solomon heard the noise\n of their shoes, followed by knuckles\n thumping his front door. Wondering\n who could be in such a hurry,\n so early in the morning, he pulled\n on boots and buttoned a denim\n jacket as he went to answer.\n \"Hello,\" said Solomon to the\n patrolman, while opening the door.\n \"Why you bother me so early?\n You know I only buy cars from\n owners.\"\n\n\n \"No, Mr. Solomon, we're not\n worried about your car buying.\n This man, from Washington, wants\n to ask you a few questions.\"\n\n\n \"Sure, come in,\" Solomon replied.\n\n\n The questions were odd: Do you\n have explosives here? Can you weld\n metal tanks? What is your education?\n Were you ever an engineer?\n What were you doing last night?\n To these, and bewildering others,\n Solomon told the truth. He had\n no explosives, couldn't weld, didn't\n finish school and was here, in bed,\n all night.\n\n\n Then they wanted to see his cars.\n Through the back door, so he'd\n not have to open the office, Solomon\n led the three men into his\n yard. Once inside, and without asking\n permission, they began searching\n like a hungry hound trailing\n a fat rabbit. Solomon's eyes, blinking\n in the glare of early morning\n sun, watched invasion of his privacy.\n \"What they want?\" he wondered.\n He'd broken no laws in all\n the years he'd been in the United\n States. \"For what do they bother\n a wrecking yard?\" he asked himself.\n\n\n His depressing thoughts were\n rudely shattered by a hail from the\n larger civilian, standing at the\n back of Solomon's yard. There,\n three old cars stood in an isolated\n row. \"Solomon, come here a moment,\"\n he shouted. Solomon\n trudged back, followed by the\n short civilian and patrolman who\n left their curious searching to follow\n Solomon's lead. When he\n neared, the tall stranger asked, \"I\n see where weeds grew under other\n cars which, from the tracks, have\n been moved out in the past few\n weeks. How many did you have?\"\n\n\n \"Twenty; but these are all I have\n left,\" Solomon eagerly replied,\n hoping at last he'd a customer for\n the best of his old cars. \"They make\n classic cars, if you'd take the time\n to fix them up. That one, the Hupmobile,\n is the last—\"\n\n\n \"Who bought the others?\" the\n big man interrupted.\n\n\n \"No one,\" quavered Solomon,\n terror gripping his throat with a\n nervous hand. Had he done wrong\n to send cars into the sky? Everyone\n else was sending things up. Newspapers\n said Russians and Americans\n were racing to send things into the\n air. What had he done that was\n wrong? Surely there was no law\n he'd broken. Wasn't the air free,\n like the seas? People dumped things\n into the ocean.\n\n\n \"Then where did they go?\"\n snapped his questioner.\n\n\n \"Up there,\" pointed Solomon.\n \"I needed the space. They were too\n good to cut up. No one would buy\n them. So I sent them up. The\n newspapers—\"\n\n\n \"You did what?\"\n\n\n \"I sent them into the sky,\"\n quavered Solomon. So this is what\n he did wrong. Would they lock\n him up? What would happen to his\n cars? And his business?\n\n\n \"How did you ... no! Wait a\n minute. Don't say a word. Officer,\n go and tell my men to prevent\n anyone from approaching or leaving\n this place.\" The patrolman\n almost saluted, thought better of\n it, and left grumbling about being\n left out of what must be something\n big.\n\n\n Solomon told the civilians of\n matching vacuum in intake manifolds\n to pressure from exhaust\n manifolds. A logical way to make\n an engine that would run on pressure,\n like satellite engines he'd\n read about in newspapers. It\n worked on a cracked engine block,\n so he'd used scrap manifolds to\n get rid of old cars no one would\n buy. It hadn't hurt anything, had\n it?\nWell, no, it hadn't. But as you\n can imagine, things happened\n rather fast. They let Solomon get\n clean denims and his razor. Then\n without a bye-your-leave, hustled\n him to the Ontario airport where\n an unmarked jet flew him to\n Washington and a hurriedly arranged\n meeting with the President.\n They left guards posted inside the\n fence of Solomon's yard, so they'll\n cause no attention while protecting\n his property. A rugged individual\n sits in the office and tells buyers\n and sellers alike, that he is Solomon's\n nephew. \"The old man had\n to take a trip in a hurry.\" Because\n he knows nothing of the business,\n they'll have to wait until Solomon\n returns.\n\n\n Where's Solomon now? Newspaper\n stories have him in Nevada\n showing the Air Force how to\n build gigantic intake and exhaust\n manifolds, which the Strategic Air\n Command is planning to attach\n to a stratospheric decompression\n test chamber. They figure if they\n can throw it into the sky, they can\n move anything up to what astronomers\n now call Solomon's Orbit,\n where at last count, sixteen of the\n seventeen cars are still merrily\n circling the earth. As you know,\n one recently hit the Russian television\n satellite.\n\n\n The Russians? We're told they're\n still burning their fingers trying\n to orbit a car. They can't figure\n how to control vacuum and pressure\n from the manifolds. Solomon\n didn't tell many people about the\n shingles he uses for control panels,\n and the Russians think control\n is somehow related to kitchen\n matches a newspaper reporter found\n scattered behind a station wagon in\n Solomon's junk yard.\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from\nAnalog Science Fact Science Fiction\nNovember 1962.\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.\n copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor spelling and\n typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Who first noticed the cars flying into space?", "question_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C_1", "options": ["The pilot of Flight 26", "Russians", "Two boys", "Mt. Palomar"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Solomon send cars into space?", "question_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C_2", "options": ["He wanted room", "He did it on accident", "He was bored", "He thought it would be fun"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the tone of this story?", "question_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C_3", "options": ["Humorous", "Serious", "Dramatic", "Suspenseful"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the Russians want to send cars into space?", "question_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C_4", "options": ["They didn't want to", "They have strategic value", "To get revenge on the Americans", "To compete with the Americans"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do Solomon's flying cars work?", "question_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C_5", "options": ["We never learn", "Combustion", "Pressure", "Hubcaps"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why didn't Solomon destroy the old cars instead?", "question_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C_6", "options": ["He liked them too much", "He didn't have the means", "They were worth too much", "He was not allowed"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did the matches help Solomon with?", "question_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C_7", "options": ["Combustion", "Flight", "Control", "Vision"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Did Solomon think he was doing something wrong?", "question_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C_8", "options": ["Yes, he worried what the Russians would do for the broken satellite.", "No, he figured that everyone else was sending things into space.", "Yes, he new he would get in trouble when the government found out.", "No, he was doing his patriotic duty."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Solomon walking faster than usual?", "question_unique_id": "23160_I33FJB5C_9", "options": ["He was in a hurry", "He was frustrated", "He was excited", "He was nervous"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0024", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0043", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/3/1/6/23160//23160-h//23160-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "23563", "set_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ", "batch_num": "22", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Viewpoint", "year": 1957, "author": "Garrett, Randall", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "VIEWPOINT.\nBY RANDALL GARRETT\nIllustrated by Bernklau\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from Astounding Science\n Fiction January 1960. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence\n that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nA fearsome thing is a thing you're afraid of—and it has nothing\n whatever to do with whether others are afraid, nor with whether it\n is in fact dangerous. It's your view of the matter that counts!\nThere was a dizzy, sickening whirl of mental blackness—not true\n blackness, but a mind-enveloping darkness that was filled with the\n multi-colored little sparks of thoughts and memories that scattered\n through the darkness like tiny glowing mice, fleeing from something\n unknown, fleeing outwards and away toward a somewhere that was equally\n unknown; scurrying, moving, changing—each half recognizable as it\n passed, but leaving only a vague impression behind.\n\n\n Memories were shattered into their component data bits in that maelstrom\n of not-quite-darkness, and scattered throughout infinity and eternity.\n Then the pseudo-dark stopped its violent motion and became still, no\n longer scattering the fleeing memories, but merely blanketing them. And\n slowly—ever so slowly—the powerful cohesive forces that existed\n between the data-bits began pulling them back together again as the\n not-blackness faded. The associative powers of the mind began putting\n the frightened little things together as they drifted back in from vast\n distances, trying to fit them together again in an ordered whole. Like a\n vast jigsaw puzzle in five dimensions, little clots and patches formed\n as the bits were snuggled into place here and there.\n\n\n The process was far from complete when Broom regained consciousness.\nBroom sat up abruptly and looked around him. The room was totally\n unfamiliar. For a moment, that seemed perfectly understandable. Why\n shouldn't the room look odd, after he had gone through—\n\n\n What?\n\n\n He rubbed his head and looked around more carefully. It was not just\n that the room itself was unfamiliar as a whole; the effect was greater\n than that. It was not the first time in his life he had regained\n consciousness in unfamiliar surroundings, but always before he had been\n aware that only the pattern was different, not the details.\n\n\n He sat there on the floor and took stock of himself and his\n surroundings.\n\n\n He was a big man—six feet tall when he stood up, and proportionately\n heavy, a big-boned frame covered with hard, well-trained muscles. His\n hair and beard were a dark blond, and rather shaggy because of the time\n he'd spent in prison.\n\n\n Prison!\n\n\n Yes, he'd been in prison. The rough clothing he was wearing was\n certainly nothing like the type of dress he was used to.\n\n\n He tried to force his memory to give him the information he was looking\n for, but it wouldn't come. A face flickered in his mind for a moment,\n and a name. Contarini. He seemed to remember a startled look on the\n Italian's face, but he could neither remember the reason for it nor when\n it had been. But it would come back; he was sure of that.\n\n\n Meanwhile, where the devil was he?\n\n\n From where he was sitting, he could see that the room was fairly large,\n but not extraordinarily so. A door in one wall led into another room of\n about the same size. But they were like no other rooms he had ever seen\n before. He looked down at the floor. It was soft, almost as soft as a\n bed, covered with a thick, even, resilient layer of fine material of\n some kind. It was some sort of carpeting that covered the floor from\n wall to wall, but no carpet had ever felt like this.\n\n\n He lifted himself gingerly to his feet. He wasn't hurt, at least. He\n felt fine, except for the gaps in his memory.\n\n\n The room was well lit. The illumination came from the ceiling, which\n seemed to be made of some glowing, semitranslucent metal that cast a\n shadowless glow over everything. There was a large, bulky table near the\n wall away from the door; it looked almost normal, except that the\n objects on it were like nothing that had ever existed. Their purposes\n were unknown, and their shapes meaningless.\n\n\n He jerked his head away, not wanting to look at the things on the table.\n\n\n The walls, at least, looked familiar. They seemed to be paneled in some\n fine wood. He walked over and touched it.\n\n\n And knew immediately that, no matter what it looked like, it wasn't\n wood. The illusion was there to the eye, but no wood ever had such a\n hard, smooth, glasslike surface as this. He jerked his fingertips away.\n\n\n He recognized, then, the emotion that had made him turn away from the\n objects on the table and pull his hand away from the unnatural wall. It\n was fear.\n\n\n Fear? Nonsense! He put his hand out suddenly and slapped the wall with\n his palm and held it there. There was nothing to be afraid of!\n\n\n He laughed at himself softly. He'd faced death a hundred times during\n the war without showing fear; this was no time to start. What would his\n men think of him if they saw him getting shaky over the mere touch of a\n woodlike wall?\n\n\n The memories were coming back. This time, he didn't try to probe for\n them; he just let them flow.\n\n\n He turned around again and looked deliberately at the big, bulky table.\n There was a faint humming noise coming from it which had escaped his\n notice before. He walked over to it and looked at the queerly-shaped\n things that lay on its shining surface. He had already decided that the\n table was no more wood than the wall, and a touch of a finger to the\n surface verified the decision.\n\n\n The only thing that looked at all familiar on the table was a sheaf of\n written material. He picked it up and glanced over the pages, noticing\n the neat characters, so unlike any that he knew. He couldn't read a word\n of it. He grinned and put the sheets back down on the smooth table top.\n\n\n The humming appeared to be coming from a metal box on the other side of\n the table. He circled around and took a look at the thing. It had levers\n and knobs and other projections, but their functions were not\n immediately discernible. There were several rows of studs with various\n unrecognizable symbols on them.\n\n\n This would certainly be something to tell in London—when and if he ever\n got back.\n\n\n He reached out a tentative finger and touched one of the symbol-marked\n studs.\n\n\n There was a loud\nclick!\nin the stillness of the room, and he leaped\n back from the device. He watched it warily for a moment, but nothing\n more seemed to be forthcoming. Still, he decided it might be best to let\n things alone. There was no point in messing with things that undoubtedly\n controlled forces beyond his ability to cope with, or understand. After\n all, such a long time—\n\n\n He stopped, Time?\nTime?\nWhat had Contarini said about time? Something about its being like a\n river that flowed rapidly—that much he remembered. Oh, yes—and that it\n was almost impossible to try to swim backwards against the current or\n ... something else. What?\n\n\n He shook his head. The more he tried to remember what his fellow\n prisoner had told him, the more elusive it became.\n\n\n He had traveled in time, that much was certain, but how far, and in\n which direction? Toward the future, obviously; Contarini had made it\n plain that going into the past was impossible. Then could he, Broom, get\n back to his own time, or was he destined to stay in this—place?\n Wherever and whenever it was.\n\n\n Evidently movement through the time-river had a tendency to disorganize\n a man's memories. Well, wasn't that obvious anyway? Even normal movement\n through time, at the rate of a day per day, made some memories fade. And\n some were lost entirely, while others remained clear and bright. What\n would a sudden jump of centuries do?\n\n\n His memory was improving, though. If he just let it alone, most of it\n would come back, and he could orient himself. Meanwhile, he might as\n well explore his surroundings a little more. He resolved to keep his\n hands off anything that wasn't readily identifiable.\nThere was a single oddly-shaped chair by the bulky table, and behind the\n chair was a heavy curtain which apparently covered a window. He could\n see a gleam of light coming through the division in the curtains.\n\n\n Broom decided he might as well get a good look at whatever was outside\n the building he was in. He stepped over, parted the curtains, and—\n\n\n —And gasped!\n\n\n It was night time outside, and the sky was clear. He recognized the\n familiar constellations up there. But they were dimmed by the light from\n the city that stretched below him.\n\n\n And what a city! At first, it was difficult for his eyes to convey their\n impressions intelligently to his brain. What they were recording was so\n unfamiliar that his brain could not decode the messages they sent.\n\n\n There were broad, well-lit streets that stretched on and on, as far as\n he could see, and beyond them, flittering fairy bridges rose into the\n air and arched into the distance. And the buildings towered over\n everything. He forced himself to look down, and it made him dizzy. The\n building he was in was so high that it would have projected through the\n clouds if there had been any clouds.\n\n\n Broom backed away from the window and let the curtain close. He'd had\n all of that he could take for right now. The inside of the building, his\n immediate surroundings, looked almost homey after seeing that monstrous,\n endless city outside.\n\n\n He skirted the table with its still-humming machine and walked toward\n the door that led to the other room. A picture hanging on a nearby wall\n caught his eye, and he stopped. It was a portrait of a man in\n unfamiliar, outlandish clothing, but Broom had seen odder clothing in\n his travels. But the thing that had stopped him was the amazing reality\n of the picture. It was almost as if there were a mirror there,\n reflecting the face of a man who stood invisibly before it.\n\n\n It wasn't, of course; it was only a painting. But the lifelike, somber\n eyes of the man were focused directly on him. Broom decided he didn't\n like the effect at all, and hurried into the next room.\n\n\n There were several rows of the bulky tables in here, each with its own\n chair. Broom's footsteps sounded loud in the room, the echoes rebounding\n from the walls. He stopped and looked down. This floor wasn't covered\n with the soft carpeting; it had a square, mosaic pattern, as though it\n might be composed of tile of some kind. And yet, though it was harder\n than the carpet it had a kind of queer resiliency of its own.\n\n\n The room itself was larger than the one he had just quitted, and not as\n well lit. For the first time, he thought of the possibility that there\n might be someone else here besides himself. He looked around, wishing\n that he had a weapon of some kind. Even a knife would have made him feel\n better.\n\n\n But there had been no chance of that, of course. Prisoners of war are\n hardly allowed to carry weapons with them, so none had been available.\n\n\n He wondered what sort of men lived in this fantastic city. So far, he\n had seen no one. The streets below had been filled with moving vehicles\n of some kind, but it had been difficult to tell whether there had been\n anyone walking down there from this height.\n\n\n Contarini had said that it would be ... how had he said it? \"Like\n sleeping for hundreds of years and waking up in a strange world.\"\n\n\n Well, it was that, all right.\n\n\n Did anyone know he was here? He had the uneasy feeling that hidden,\n unseen eyes were watching his every move, and yet he could detect\n nothing. There was no sound except the faint humming from the device in\n the room behind him, and a deeper, almost inaudible, rushing, rumbling\n sound that seemed to come from far below.\n\n\n His wish for a weapon came back, stronger than before. The very fact\n that he had seen no one set his nerves on edge even more than the sight\n of a known enemy would have done.\n\n\n He was suddenly no longer interested in his surroundings. He felt\n trapped in this strange, silent room. He could see a light shining\n through a door at the far end of the room—perhaps it was a way out. He\n walked toward it, trying to keep his footsteps as silent as possible as\n he moved.\n\n\n The door had a pane of translucent glass in it, and there were more of\n the unreadable characters on it. He wished fervently that he could\n decipher them; they might tell him where he was.\n\n\n Carefully, he grasped the handle of the door, twisted it, and pulled.\n And, careful as he had been, the door swung inward with surprising\n rapidity. It was a great deal thinner and lighter than he had supposed.\n\n\n He looked down at it, wondering if there were any way the door could be\n locked. There was a tiny vertical slit set in a small metal panel in the\n door, but it was much too tiny to be a keyhole. Still—\n\n\n It didn't matter. If necessary, he could smash the glass to get through\n the door. He stepped out into what was obviously a hallway beyond the\n door.\nThe hallway stretched away to either side, lined with doors similar to\n the one he had just come through. How did a man get out of this place,\n anyway? The door behind him was pressing against his hand with a patient\n insistence, as though it wanted to close itself. He almost let it close,\n but, at the last second, he changed his mind.\nBetter the devil we know than the devil we don't\n, he thought to\n himself.\n\n\n He went back into the office and looked around for something to prop the\n door open. He found a small, beautifully formed porcelain dish on one of\n the desks, picked it up, and went back to the door. The dish held the\n door open an inch or so. That was good enough. If someone locked the\n door, he could still smash in the glass if he wanted to, but the absence\n of the dish when he returned would tell him that he was not alone in\n this mysterious place.\n\n\n He started down the hallway to his right, checking the doors as he went.\n They were all locked. He knew that he could break into any of them, but\n he had a feeling that he would find no exit through any of them. They\n all looked as though they concealed more of the big rooms.\n\n\n None of them had any lights behind them. Only the one door that he had\n come through showed the telltale glow from the other side. Why?\n\n\n He had the terrible feeling that he had been drawn across time to this\n place for a purpose, and yet he could think of no rational reason for\n believing so.\n\n\n He stopped as another memory came back. He remembered being in the\n stone-walled dungeon, with its smelly straw beds, lit only by the faint\n shaft of sunlight that came from the barred window high overhead.\n\n\n Contarini, the short, wiry little Italian who was in the next cell,\n looked at him through the narrow opening. \"I still think it can be done,\n my friend. It is the mind and the mind alone that sees the flow of time.\n The body experiences, but does not see. Only the soul is capable of\n knowing eternity.\"\n\n\n Broom outranked the little Italian, but prison can make brothers of all\n men. \"You think it's possible then, to get out of a place like this,\n simply by thinking about it?\"\n\n\n Contarini nodded. \"Why not? Did not the saints do so? And what was that?\n Contemplation of the Eternal, my comrade; contemplation of the Eternal.\"\n\n\n Broom held back a grin. \"Then why, my Venetian friend, have you not left\n this place long since?\"\n\n\n \"I try,\" Contarini had said simply, \"but I cannot do it. You wish to\n know why? It is because I am afraid.\"\n\n\n \"Afraid?\" Broom raised an eyebrow. He had seen Contarini on the\n battlefield, dealing death in hand-to-hand combat, and the Italian\n hadn't impressed him as a coward.\n\n\n \"Yes,\" said the Venetian. \"Afraid. Oh, I am not afraid of men. I fight.\n Some day, I may die—\nwill\ndie. This does not frighten me, death. I am\n not afraid of what men may do to me.\" He stopped and frowned. \"But, of\n this, I have a great fear. Only a saint can handle such things, and I am\n no saint.\"\n\n\n \"I hope, my dear Contarini,\" Broom said dryly, \"that you are not under\n the impression that\nI\nam a saint.\"\n\n\n \"No, perhaps not,\" Contarini said. \"Perhaps not. But you are braver than\n I. I am not afraid of any man living. But you are afraid of neither the\n living nor the dead, nor of man nor devil—which is a great deal more\n than I can say for myself. Besides, there is the blood of kings in your\n veins. And has not a king protection that even a man of noble blood such\n as myself does not have? I think so.\n\n\n \"Oh, I have no doubt that you could do it, if you but would. And then,\n perhaps, when you are free, you would free me—for teaching you all I\n know to accomplish this. My fear holds me chained here, but you have no\n chains of fear.\"\n\n\n Broom had thought that over for a moment, then grinned. \"All right, my\n friend; I'll try it. What's your first lesson?\"\n\n\n The memory faded from Broom's mind. Had he really moved through some\n segment of Eternity to reach this ... this place? Had he—\n\n\n He felt a chill run through him. What was he doing here? How could he\n have taken it all so calmly. Afraid of man or devil, no—but this was\n neither. He had to get back. The utter alienness of this bright,\n shining, lifeless wonderland was too much for him.\n\n\n Instinctively, he turned and ran back toward the room he had left. If he\n got back to the place where he had appeared in this world,\n perhaps—somehow—some force would return him to where he belonged.\nThe door was as he had left it, the porcelain dish still in place. He\n scooped up the dish in one big hand and ran on into the room, letting\n the door shut itself behind him. He ran on, through the large room with\n its many tables, into the brightly lighted room beyond.\n\n\n He stopped. What could he do now? He tried to remember the things that\n the Italian had told him to do, and he could not for the life of him\n remember them. His memory still had gaps in it—gaps he did not know\n were there because he had not yet probed for them. He closed his eyes in\n concentration, trying to bring back a memory that would not come.\n\n\n He did not hear the intruder until the man's voice echoed in the room.\n\n\n Broom's eyes opened, and instantly every muscle and nerve in his\n hard-trained body tensed for action. There was a man standing in the\n doorway of the office.\n\n\n He was not a particularly impressive man, in spite of the queer cut of\n his clothes. He was not as tall as Broom, and he looked soft and\n overfed. His paunch protruded roundly from the open front of the short\n coat, and there was a fleshiness about his face that betrayed too much\n good living.\n\n\n And he looked even more frightened than Broom had been a few minutes\n before.\n\n\n He was saying something in a language that Broom did not understand, and\n the tenseness in his voice betrayed his fear. Broom relaxed. He had\n nothing to fear from this little man.\n\n\n \"I won't hurt you,\" Broom said. \"I had no intention of intruding on your\n property, but all I ask is help.\"\n\n\n The little man was blinking and backing away, as though he were going to\n turn and bolt at any moment.\n\n\n Broom laughed. \"You have nothing to fear from me, little man. Permit me\n to introduce myself. I am Richard Broom, known as—\" He stopped, and his\n eyes widened. Total memory flooded over him as he realized fully who he\n was and where he belonged.\n\n\n And the fear hit him again in a raging flood, sweeping over his mind and\n blotting it out. Again, the darkness came.\nThis time, the blackness faded quickly. There was a face, a worried\n face, looking at him through an aperture in the stone wall. The\n surroundings were so familiar, that the bits of memory which had been\n scattered again during the passage through centuries of time came back\n more quickly and settled back into their accustomed pattern more easily.\n\n\n The face was that of the Italian, Contarini. He was looking both worried\n and disappointed.\n\n\n \"You were not gone long, my lord king,\" he said. \"But you\nwere\ngone.\n Of that there can be no doubt. Why did you return?\"\n\n\n Richard Broom sat up on his palette of straw. The scene in the strange\n building already seemed dreamlike, but the fear was still there. \"I\n couldn't remember,\" he said softly. \"I couldn't remember who I was nor\n why I had gone to that ... that place. And when I remembered, I came\n back.\"\n\n\n Contarini nodded sadly. \"It is as I have heard. The memory ties one too\n strongly to the past—to one's own time. One must return as soon as the\n mind had adjusted. I am sorry, my friend; I had hoped we could escape.\n But now it appears that we must wait until our ransoms are paid. And I\n much fear that mine will never be paid.\"\n\n\n \"Nor mine,\" said the big man dully. \"My faithful Blondin found me, but\n he may not have returned to London. And even if he has, my brother John\n may be reluctant to raise the money.\"\n\n\n \"What? Would England hesitate to ransom the brave king who has fought so\n gallantly in the Holy Crusades? Never! You will be free, my friend.\"\n\n\n But Richard Plantagenet just stared at the little dish that he still\n held in his hand, the fear still in his heart. Men would still call him\n \"Lion-hearted,\" but he knew that he would never again deserve the title.\nAnd, nearly eight centuries away in time and thousands of miles away in\n space, a Mr. Edward Jasperson was speaking hurriedly into the telephone\n that stood by the electric typewriter on his desk.\n\n\n \"That's right, Officer; Suite 8601, Empire State Building. I was working\n late, and I left the lights on in my office when I went out to get a cup\n of coffee. When I came back, he was here—a big, bearded man, wearing a\n thing that looked like a monk's robe made out of gunny sack. What? No, I\n locked the door when I left. What? Well, the only thing that's missing\n as far as I can tell is a ceramic ash tray from one of the desks; he was\n holding that in his hand when I saw him. What? Oh. Where did he go?\" Mr.\n Jasperson paused in his rush of words. \"Well, I must have gotten a\n little dizzy—I was pretty shocked, you know. To be honest, I didn't see\n where he went. I must have fainted.\n\n\n \"But I think you can pick him up if you hurry. With that getup on, he\n can't get very far away. All right. Thank you, Officer.\"\n\n\n He cradled the phone, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and dabbed\n at his damp forehead. He was a very frightened little man, but he knew\n he'd get over it by morning.\n\n\n THE END\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the twist of this story?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_1", "options": ["Broom traveled to the 20th century", "Broom imagined the whole thing", "Broom was an evil man", "Broom was afraid"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When was Broom in prison?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_2", "options": ["1st century", "15th century", "12th century", "20th century"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was the painting so clear?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_3", "options": ["Broom had never seen a painting", "Broom's fuzziness made it look clearer than it was", "It was special future paint", "It was a photograph"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following weapons was Broom most likely wishing for?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_4", "options": ["A gun", "A knife", "A sword", "A pen"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did Broom travel through time?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_5", "options": ["By thinking about it", "We never learn", "Contarini sent him", "It was an accident"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following did Broom recognize?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_6", "options": ["Knife", "Stars", "Ashtray", "Typewriter"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is referenced as the devil Broom knows?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_7", "options": ["Outside", "The past", "A knife", "The office"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What language was Mr. Edward Jasperson speaking?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_8", "options": ["Unknown language from the future", "Italian", "Unknown language from the past", "English"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0034", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Broom a prisoner?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_9", "options": ["We never find out", "War", "John didn't raise funds for him", "He killed a man"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0024", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What city does Broom wake up in?", "question_unique_id": "23563_HRCOMZPJ_10", "options": ["New York", "London", "Unknown", "Venice"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, 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{"article_id": "24290", "set_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "PRoblem", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "PRoblem\nby Alan E. Nourse\nThe\n letter came down the slot too early that morning to be\n the regular mail run. Pete Greenwood eyed the New Philly\n photocancel with a dreadful premonition. The letter said:\n\n\n Peter:\n\n Can you come East chop-chop, urgent?\n\n Grdznth problem getting to be a PRoblem, need\n\n expert icebox salesman to get gators out of hair fast.\n\n Yes? Math boys hot on this, citizens not so hot.\n\n Please come.\nTommy\n\n\n Pete tossed the letter down the gulper with a sigh. He had\n lost a bet to himself because it had come three days later than\n he expected, but it had come all the same, just as it always did\n when Tommy Heinz got himself into a hole.\n\n\n Not that he didn't like Tommy. Tommy was a good PR-man,\n as PR-men go. He just didn't know his own depth. PRoblem\n in a beady Grdznth eye! What Tommy needed right now was\n a Bazooka Battalion, not a PR-man. Pete settled back in\n the Eastbound Rocketjet with a sigh of resignation.\n\n\n He was just dozing off when the fat lady up the aisle let out\n a scream. A huge reptilian head had materialized out of nowhere\n and was hanging in air, peering about uncertainly. A\n scaly green body followed, four feet away, complete with long\n razor talons, heavy hind legs, and a whiplash tail with a needle\n at the end. For a moment the creature floated upside down, legs\n thrashing. Then the head and body joined, executed a horizontal\n pirouette, and settled gently to the floor like an eight-foot\n circus balloon.\n\n\n Two rows down a small boy let out a muffled howl and\n tried to bury himself in his mother's coat collar. An indignant\n wail arose from the fat lady. Someone behind Pete groaned\n aloud and quickly retired behind a newspaper.\n\n\n The creature coughed apologetically. \"Terribly sorry,\" he\n said in a coarse rumble. \"So difficult to control, you know.\n Terribly sorry....\" His voice trailed off as he lumbered down\n the aisle toward the empty seat next to Pete.\n\n\n The fat lady gasped, and an angry murmur ran up and down\n the cabin. \"Sit down,\" Pete said to the creature. \"Relax. Cheerful\n reception these days, eh?\"\n\n\n \"You don't mind?\" said the creature.\n\n\n \"Not at all.\" Pete tossed his briefcase on the floor. At a\n distance the huge beast had looked like a nightmare combination\n of large alligator and small tyrannosaurus. Now, at\n close range Pete could see that the \"scales\" were actually tiny\n wrinkles of satiny green fur. He knew, of course, that the\n Grdznth were mammals—\"docile, peace-loving mammals,\"\n Tommy's PR-blasts had declared emphatically—but with one\n of them sitting about a foot away Pete had to fight down a\n wave of horror and revulsion.\n\n\n The creature was most incredibly ugly. Great yellow pouches\n hung down below flat reptilian eyes, and a double row of long\n curved teeth glittered sharply. In spite of himself Pete gripped\n the seat as the Grdznth breathed at him wetly through damp\n nostrils.\n\n\n \"Misgauged?\" said Pete.\n\n\n The Grdznth nodded sadly. \"It's horrible of me, but I just\n can't help it. I\nalways\nmisgauge. Last time it was the chancel\n of St. John's Cathedral. I nearly stampeded morning prayer—\"\n He paused to catch his breath. \"What an effort. The energy\n barrier, you know. Frightfully hard to make the jump.\" He\n broke off sharply, staring out the window. \"Dear me! Are we\n going\neast\n?\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid so, friend.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, dear. I wanted\nFlorida\n.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you seem to have drifted through into the wrong\n airplane,\" said Pete. \"Why Florida?\"\n\n\n The Grdznth looked at him reproachfully. \"The Wives, of\n course. The climate is so much better, and they mustn't be\n disturbed, you know.\"\n\n\n \"Of course,\" said Pete. \"In their condition. I'd forgotten.\"\n\n\n \"And I'm told that things have been somewhat unpleasant\n in the East just now,\" said the Grdznth.\n\n\n Pete thought of Tommy, red-faced and frantic, beating off\n hordes of indignant citizens. \"So I hear,\" he said. \"How many\n more of you are coming through?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, not many, not many at all. Only the Wives—half a\n million or so—and their spouses, of course.\" The creature\n clicked his talons nervously. \"We haven't much more time, you\n know. Only a few more weeks, a few months at the most. If\n we couldn't have stopped over here, I just don't know\nwhat\nwe'd have done.\"\n\n\n \"Think nothing of it,\" said Pete indulgently. \"It's been great\n having you.\"\n\n\n The passengers within earshot stiffened, glaring at Pete.\n The fat lady was whispering indignantly to her seat companion.\n Junior had half emerged from his mother's collar; he was busy\n sticking out his tongue at the Grdznth.\n\n\n The creature shifted uneasily. \"Really, I think—perhaps\n Florida would be better.\"\n\n\n \"Going to try it again right now? Don't rush off,\" said Pete.\n\n\n \"Oh, I don't mean to rush. It's been lovely, but—\" Already\n the Grdznth was beginning to fade out.\n\n\n \"Try four miles down and a thousand miles southeast,\" said\n Pete.\n\n\n The creature gave him a toothy smile, nodded once, and\n grew more indistinct. In another five seconds the seat was quite\n empty. Pete leaned back, grinning to himself as the angry\n rumble rose around him like a wave. He was a Public Relations\n man to the core—but right now he was off duty. He\n chuckled to himself, and the passengers avoided him like the\n plague all the way to New Philly.\n\n\n But as he walked down the gangway to hail a cab, he wasn't\n smiling so much. He was wondering just how high Tommy was\n hanging him, this time.\nThe lobby of the Public Relations Bureau was swarming like\n an upturned anthill when Pete disembarked from the taxi. He\n could almost smell the desperate tension of the place. He\n fought his way past scurrying clerks and preoccupied poll-takers\n toward the executive elevators in the rear.\n\n\n On the newly finished seventeenth floor, he found Tommy\n Heinz pacing the corridor like an expectant young father.\n Tommy had lost weight since Pete had last seen him. His\n ruddy face was paler, his hair thin and ragged as though\n chunks had been torn out from time to time. He saw Pete\n step off the elevator, and ran forward with open arms. \"I\n thought you'd never get here!\" he groaned. \"When you didn't\n call, I was afraid you'd let me down.\"\n\n\n \"Me?\" said Pete. \"I'd never let down a pal.\"\n\n\n The sarcasm didn't dent Tommy. He led Pete through the\n ante-room into the plush director's office, bouncing about excitedly,\n his words tumbling out like a waterfall. He looked as\n though one gentle shove might send him yodeling down Market\n Street in his underdrawers. \"Hold it,\" said Pete. \"Relax,\n I'm not going to leave for a while yet. Your girl screamed\n something about a senator as we came in. Did you hear her?\"\n\n\n Tommy gave a violent start. \"Senator! Oh, dear.\" He flipped\n a desk switch. \"What senator is that?\"\n\n\n \"Senator Stokes,\" the girl said wearily. \"He had an appointment.\n He's ready to have you fired.\"\n\n\n \"All I need now is a senator,\" Tommy said. \"What does he\n want?\"\n\n\n \"Guess,\" said the girl.\n\n\n \"Oh. That's what I was afraid of. Can you keep him there?\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry about that,\" said the girl. \"He's growing roots.\n They swept around him last night, and dusted him off this\n morning. His appointment was for\nyesterday\n, remember?\"\n\n\n \"Remember! Of course I remember. Senator Stokes—something\n about a riot in Boston.\" He started to flip the switch,\n then added, \"See if you can get Charlie down here with his\n giz.\"\n\n\n He turned back to Pete with a frantic light in his eye. \"Good\n old Pete. Just in time. Just. Eleventh-hour reprieve. Have a\n drink, have a cigar—do you want my job? It's yours. Just\n speak up.\"\n\n\n \"I fail to see,\" said Pete, \"just why you had to drag me\n all the way from L.A. to have a cigar. I've got work to do.\"\n\n\n \"Selling movies, right?\" said Tommy.\n\n\n \"Check.\"\n\n\n \"To people who don't want to buy them, right?\"\n\n\n \"In a manner of speaking,\" said Pete testily.\n\n\n \"Exactly,\" said Tommy. \"Considering some of the movies\n you've been selling, you should be able to sell anything to\n anybody, any time, at any price.\"\n\n\n \"Please. Movies are getting Better by the Day.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I know. And the Grdznth are getting worse by the\n hour. They're coming through in battalions—a thousand a day!\n The more Grdznth come through, the more they act as though\n they own the place. Not nasty or anything—it's that infernal\n politeness that people hate most, I think. Can't get them mad,\n can't get them into a fight, but they do anything they please,\n and go anywhere they please, and if the people don't like it,\n the Grdznth just go right ahead anyway.\"\n\n\n Pete pulled at his lip. \"Any violence?\"\n\n\n Tommy gave him a long look. \"So far we've kept it out of\n the papers, but there have been some incidents. Didn't hurt\n the Grdznth a bit—they have personal protective force fields\n around them, a little point they didn't bother to tell us about.\n Anybody who tries anything fancy gets thrown like a bolt of\n lightning hit him. Rumors are getting wild—people saying\n they can't be killed, that they're just moving in to stay.\"\n\n\n Pete nodded slowly. \"Are they?\"\n\n\n \"I wish I knew. I mean, for sure. The psych-docs say no.\n The Grdznth agreed to leave at a specified time, and something\n in their cultural background makes them stick strictly to their\n agreements. But that's just what the psych-docs think, and\n they've been known to be wrong.\"\n\n\n \"And the appointed time?\"\n\n\n Tommy spread his hands helplessly. \"If we knew, you'd\n still be in L.A. Roughly six months and four days, plus or\n minus a month for the time differential. That's strictly tentative,\n according to the math boys. It's a parallel universe, one\n of several thousand already explored, according to the Grdznth\n scientists working with Charlie Karns. Most of the parallels\n are analogous, and we happen to be analogous to the Grdznth,\n a point we've omitted from our PR-blasts. They have an eight-planet\n system around a hot sun, and it's going to get lots hotter\n any day now.\"\n\n\n Pete's eyes widened. \"Nova?\"\n\n\n \"Apparently. Nobody knows how they predicted it, but they\n did. Spotted it coming several years ago, so they've been romping\n through parallel after parallel trying to find one they can\n migrate to. They found one, sort of a desperation choice. It's\n cold and arid and full of impassable mountain chains. With an\n uphill fight they can make it support a fraction of their population.\"\n\n\n Tommy shook his head helplessly. \"They picked a very sensible\n system for getting a good strong Grdznth population on\n the new parallel as fast as possible. The males were picked for\n brains, education, ability and adaptability; the females were\n chosen largely according to how pregnant they were.\"\n\n\n Pete grinned. \"Grdznth in utero. There's something poetic\n about it.\"\n\n\n \"Just one hitch,\" said Tommy. \"The girls can't gestate in\n that climate, at least not until they've been there long enough\n to get their glands adjusted. Seems we have just the right climate\n here for gestating Grdznth, even better than at home.\n So they came begging for permission to stop here, on the way\n through, to rest and parturiate.\"\n\n\n \"So Earth becomes a glorified incubator.\" Pete got to his\n feet thoughtfully. \"This is all very touching,\" he said, \"but\n it just doesn't wash. If the Grdznth are so unpopular with the\n masses, why did we let them in here in the first place?\" He\n looked narrowly at Tommy. \"To be very blunt, what's the\n parking fee?\"\n\n\n \"Plenty,\" said Tommy heavily. \"That's the trouble, you\n see. The fee is so high, Earth just can't afford to lose it. Charlie\n Karns'll tell you why.\"\nCharlie Karns from Math Section was an intense skeleton of\n a man with a long jaw and a long white coat drooping over his\n shoulders like a shroud. In his arms he clutched a small black\n box.\n\n\n \"It's the parallel universe business, of course,\" he said to\n Pete, with Tommy beaming over his shoulder. \"The Grdznth\n can cross through. They've been able to do it for a long time.\n According to our figuring, this must involve complete control\n of mass, space and dimension, all three. And time comes into\n one of the three—we aren't sure which.\"\n\n\n The mathematician set the black box on the desk top and\n released the lid. Like a jack-in-the-box, two small white plastic\n spheres popped out and began chasing each other about in\n the air six inches above the box. Presently a third sphere rose\n up from the box and joined the fun.\n\n\n Pete watched it with his jaw sagging until his head began to\n spin. \"No wires?\"\n\n\n \"\nStrictly\nno wires,\" said Charlie glumly. \"No nothing.\" He\n closed the box with a click. \"This is one of their children's toys,\n and theoretically, it can't work. Among other things, it takes\n null-gravity to operate.\"\n\n\n Pete sat down, rubbing his chin. \"Yes,\" he said. \"I'm beginning\n to see. They're teaching you this?\"\n\n\n Tommy said, \"They're trying to. He's been working for\n weeks with their top mathematicians, him and a dozen others.\n How many computers have you burned out, Charlie?\"\n\n\n \"Four. There's a differential factor, and we can't spot it.\n They have the equations, all right. It's a matter of translating\n them into constants that make sense. But we haven't cracked\n the differential.\"\n\n\n \"And if you do, then what?\"\n\n\n Charlie took a deep breath. \"We'll have inter-dimensional\n control, a practical, utilizable transmatter. We'll have null-gravity,\n which means the greatest advance in power utilization\n since fire was discovered. It might give us the opening to a\n concept of time travel that makes some kind of sense. And\n power! If there's an energy differential of any magnitude—\"\n He shook his head sadly.\n\n\n \"We'll also know the time-differential,\" said Tommy hopefully,\n \"and how long the Grdznth gestation period will be.\"\n\n\n \"It's a fair exchange,\" said Charlie. \"We keep them until the\n girls have their babies. They teach us the ABC's of space,\n mass and dimension.\"\n\n\n Pete nodded. \"That is, if you can make the people put up\n with them for another six months or so.\"\n\n\n Tommy sighed. \"In a word—yes. So far we've gotten nowhere\n at a thousand miles an hour.\"\n\"I can't do it!\" the cosmetician wailed, hurling himself\n down on a chair and burying his face in his hands. \"I've failed.\n Failed!\"\n\n\n The Grdznth sitting on the stool looked regretfully from the\n cosmetician to the Public Relations men. \"I say—I\nam\nsorry....\" His coarse voice trailed off as he peeled a long\n strip of cake makeup off his satiny green face.\n\n\n Pete Greenwood stared at the cosmetician sobbing in the\n chair. \"What's eating\nhim\n?\"\n\n\n \"Professional pride,\" said Tommy. \"He can take twenty\n years off the face of any woman in Hollywood. But he's not\n getting to first base with Gorgeous over there. This is only one\n thing we've tried,\" he added as they moved on down the corridor.\n \"You should see the field reports. We've tried selling the\n advances Earth will have, the wealth, the power. No dice. The\n man on the street reads our PR-blasts, and then looks up to see\n one of the nasty things staring over his shoulder at the newspaper.\"\n\n\n \"So you can't make them beautiful,\" said Pete. \"Can't you\n make them cute?\"\n\n\n \"With those teeth? Those eyes? Ugh.\"\n\n\n \"How about the 'jolly company' approach?\"\n\n\n \"Tried it. There's nothing jolly about them. They pop out\n of nowhere, anywhere. In church, in bedrooms, in rush-hour\n traffic through Lincoln Tunnel—look!\"\n\n\n Pete peered out the window at the traffic jam below. Cars\n were snarled up for blocks on either side of the intersection.\n A squad of traffic cops were converging angrily on the center\n of the mess, where a stream of green reptilian figures seemed\n to be popping out of the street and lumbering through the\n jammed autos like General Sherman tanks.\n\n\n \"Ulcers,\" said Tommy. \"City traffic isn't enough of a mess\n as it is. And they don't\ndo\nanything about it. They apologize\n profusely, but they keep coming through.\" The two started\n on for the office. \"Things are getting to the breaking point.\n The people are wearing thin from sheer annoyance—to say\n nothing of the nightmares the kids are having, and the trouble\n with women fainting.\"\n\n\n The signal light on Tommy's desk was flashing scarlet. He\n dropped into a chair with a sigh and flipped a switch. \"Okay,\n what is it now?\"\n\n\n \"Just another senator,\" said a furious male voice. \"Mr.\n Heinz, my arthritis is beginning to win this fight. Are you\n going to see me now, or aren't you?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, come right in!\" Tommy turned white. \"Senator\n Stokes,\" he muttered. \"I'd completely forgotten—\"\n\n\n The senator didn't seem to like being forgotten. He walked\n into the office, looked disdainfully at the PR-men, and sank to\n the edge of a chair, leaning on his umbrella.\n\n\n \"You have just lost your job,\" he said to Tommy, with an\n icy edge to his voice. \"You may not have heard about it yet,\n but you can take my word for it. I personally will be delighted\n to make the necessary arrangements, but I doubt if I'll need to.\n There are at least a hundred senators in Washington who are\n ready to press for your dismissal, Mr. Heinz—and there's\n been some off-the-record talk about a lynching. Nothing official,\n of course.\"\n\n\n \"Senator—\"\n\n\n \"Senator be hanged! We want somebody in this office who\n can manage to\ndo\nsomething.\"\n\n\n \"Do something! You think I'm a magician? I can just make\n them vanish? What do you want me to do?\"\n\n\n The senator raised his eyebrows. \"You needn't shout, Mr.\n Heinz. I'm not the least interested in\nwhat\nyou do. My interest\n is focused completely on a collection of five thousand letters,\n telegrams, and visiphone calls I've received in the past three\n days alone. My constituents, Mr. Heinz, are making themselves\n clear. If the Grdznth do not go, I go.\"\n\n\n \"That would never do, of course,\" murmured Pete.\n\n\n The senator gave Pete a cold, clinical look. \"Who is this\n person?\" he asked Tommy.\n\n\n \"An assistant on the job,\" Tommy said quickly. \"A very\n excellent PR-man.\"\n\n\n The senator sniffed audibly. \"Full of ideas, no doubt.\"\n\n\n \"Brimming,\" said Pete. \"Enough ideas to get your constituents\n off your neck for a while, at least.\"\n\n\n \"Indeed.\"\n\n\n \"Indeed,\" said Pete. \"Tommy, how fast can you get a PR-blast\n to penetrate? How much medium do you control?\"\n\n\n \"Plenty,\" Tommy gulped.\n\n\n \"And how fast can you sample response and analyze it?\"\n\n\n \"We can have prelims six hours after the PR-blast. Pete,\n if you have an idea, tell us!\"\n\n\n Pete stood up, facing the senator. \"Everything else has been\n tried, but it seems to me one important factor has been missed.\n One that will take your constituents by the ears.\" He looked\n at Tommy pityingly. \"You've tried to make them lovable, but\n they aren't lovable. They aren't even passably attractive.\n There's one thing they\nare\nthough, at least half of them.\"\n\n\n Tommy's jaw sagged. \"Pregnant,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Now see here,\" said the senator. \"If you're trying to make\n a fool out of me to my face—\"\n\n\n \"Sit down and shut up,\" said Pete. \"If there's one thing the\n man in the street reveres, my friend, it's motherhood. We've\n got several hundred thousand pregnant Grdznth just waiting\n for all the little Grdznth to arrive, and nobody's given them a\n side glance.\" He turned to Tommy. \"Get some copywriters\n down here. Get a Grdznth obstetrician or two. We're going to\n put together a PR-blast that will twang the people's heart-strings\n like a billion harps.\"\n\n\n The color was back in Tommy's cheeks, and the senator was\n forgotten as a dozen intercom switches began snapping. \"We'll\n need TV hookups, and plenty of newscast space,\" he said\n eagerly. \"Maybe a few photographs—do you suppose maybe\nbaby\nGrdznth are lovable?\"\n\n\n \"They probably look like salamanders,\" said Pete. \"But tell\n the people anything you want. If we're going to get across the\n sanctity of Grdznth motherhood, my friend, anything goes.\"\n\n\n \"It's genius,\" chortled Tommy. \"Sheer genius.\"\n\n\n \"If it sells,\" the senator added, dubiously.\n\n\n \"It'll sell,\" Pete said. \"The question is: for how long?\"\nThe planning revealed the mark of genius. Nothing\n sudden, harsh, or crude—but slowly, in a radio comment here\n or a newspaper story there, the emphasis began to shift from\n Grdznth in general to Grdznth as mothers. A Rutgers professor\n found his TV discussion on \"Motherhood as an Experience\"\n suddenly shifted from 6:30 Monday evening to 10:30 Saturday\n night. Copy rolled by the ream from Tommy's office, refined\n copy, hypersensitively edited copy, finding its way into the\n light of day through devious channels.\n\n\n Three days later a Grdznth miscarriage threatened, and\n was averted. It was only a page 4 item, but it was a beginning.\n\n\n Determined movements to expel the Grdznth faltered, trembled\n with indecision. The Grdznth were ugly, they frightened\n little children, they\nwere\na trifle overbearing in their insufferable\n stubborn politeness—but in a civilized world you just\n couldn't turn expectant mothers out in the rain.\n\n\n Not even expectant Grdznth mothers.\n\n\n By the second week the blast was going at full tilt.\n\n\n In the Public Relations Bureau building, machines worked\n on into the night. As questionnaires came back, spot candid\n films and street-corner interview tapes ran through the projectors\n on a twenty-four-hour schedule. Tommy Heinz grew\n thinner and thinner, while Pete nursed sharp post-prandial\n stomach pains.\n\n\n \"Why don't people\nrespond\n?\" Tommy asked plaintively on\n the morning the third week started. \"Haven't they got any\n feelings? The blast is washing over them like a wave and there\n they sit!\" He punched the private wire to Analysis for the\n fourth time that morning. He got a man with a hag-ridden look\n in his eye. \"How soon?\"\n\n\n \"You want yesterday's rushes?\"\n\n\n \"What do you think I want? Any sign of a lag?\"\n\n\n \"Not a hint. Last night's panel drew like a magnet. The\n D-Date tag you suggested has them by the nose.\"\n\n\n \"How about the President's talk?\"\n\n\n The man from Analysis grinned. \"He should be campaigning.\"\n\n\n Tommy mopped his forehead with his shirtsleeve. \"Okay.\n Now listen: we need a special run on all response data we have\n for tolerance levels. Got that? How soon can we have it?\"\n\n\n Analysis shook his head. \"We could only make a guess with\n the data so far.\"\n\n\n \"Fine,\" said Tommy. \"Make a guess.\"\n\n\n \"Give us three hours,\" said Analysis.\n\n\n \"You've got thirty minutes. Get going.\"\n\n\n Turning back to Pete, Tommy rubbed his hands eagerly.\n \"It's starting to sell, boy. I don't know how strong or how\n good, but it's starting to sell! With the tolerance levels to tell\n us how long we can expect this program to quiet things down,\n we can give Charlie a deadline to crack his differential factor,\n or it's the ax for Charlie.\" He chuckled to himself, and paced\n the room in an overflow of nervous energy. \"I can see it now.\n Open shafts instead of elevators. A quick hop to Honolulu for\n an afternoon on the beach, and back in time for supper. A\n hundred miles to the gallon for the Sunday driver. When\n people begin\nseeing\nwhat the Grdznth are giving us, they'll\n welcome them with open arms.\"\n\n\n \"Hmmm,\" said Pete.\n\n\n \"Well, why won't they? The people just didn't trust us, that\n was all. What does the man in the street know about transmatters?\n Nothing. But give him one, and then try to take it\n away.\"\n\n\n \"Sure, sure,\" said Pete. \"It sounds great. Just a little bit\ntoo\ngreat.\"\n\n\n Tommy blinked at him. \"Too great? Are you crazy?\"\n\n\n \"Not crazy. Just getting nervous.\" Pete jammed his hands\n into his pockets. \"Do you realize where\nwe're\nstanding in this\n thing? We're out on a limb—way out. We're fighting for time—time\n for Charlie and his gang to crack the puzzle, time for\n the Grdznth girls to gestate. But what are we hearing from\n Charlie?\"\n\n\n \"Pete, Charlie can't just—\"\n\n\n \"That's right,\" said Pete. \"\nNothing\nis what we're hearing\n from Charlie. We've got no transmatter, no null-G, no power,\n nothing except a whole lot of Grdznth and more coming\n through just as fast as they can. I'm beginning to wonder what\n the Grdznth\nare\ngiving us.\"\n\n\n \"Well, they can't gestate forever.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe not, but I still have a burning desire to talk to\n Charlie. Something tells me they're going to be gestating a\n little too long.\"\n\n\n They put through the call, but Charlie wasn't answering.\n \"Sorry,\" the operator said. \"Nobody's gotten through there for\n three days.\"\n\n\n \"Three days?\" cried Tommy. \"What's wrong? Is he dead?\"\n\n\n \"Couldn't be. They burned out two more machines yesterday,\"\n said the operator. \"Killed the switchboard for twenty\n minutes.\"\n\n\n \"Get him on the wire,\" Tommy said. \"That's orders.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. But first they want you in Analysis.\"\n\n\n Analysis was a shambles. Paper and tape piled knee-deep\n on the floor. The machines clattered wildly, coughing out\n reams of paper to be gulped up by other machines. In a corner\n office they found the Analysis man, pale but jubilant.\n\n\n \"The Program,\" Tommy said. \"How's it going?\"\n\n\n \"You can count on the people staying happy for at least\n another five months.\" Analysis hesitated an instant. \"If they\n see some baby Grdznth at the end of it all.\"\n\n\n There was dead silence in the room. \"Baby Grdznth,\"\n Tommy said finally.\n\n\n \"That's what I said. That's what the people are buying.\n That's what they'd better get.\"\n\n\n Tommy swallowed hard. \"And if it happens to be six\n months?\"\n\n\n Analysis drew a finger across his throat.\n\n\n Tommy and Pete looked at each other, and Tommy's hands\n were shaking. \"I think,\" he said, \"we'd better find Charlie\n Karns right now.\"\nMath Section was like a tomb. The machines were silent.\n In the office at the end of the room they found an unshaven\n Charlie gulping a cup of coffee with a very smug-looking\n Grdznth. The coffee pot was floating gently about six feet\n above the desk. So were the Grdznth and Charlie.\n\n\n \"Charlie!\" Tommy howled. \"We've been trying to get you\n for hours! The operator—\"\n\n\n \"I know, I know.\" Charlie waved a hand disjointedly. \"I\n told her to go away. I told the rest of the crew to go away, too.\"\n\n\n \"Then you cracked the differential?\"\n\n\n Charlie tipped an imaginary hat toward the Grdznth. \"Spike\n cracked it,\" he said. \"Spike is a sort of Grdznth genius.\" He\n tossed the coffee cup over his shoulder and it ricochetted in\n graceful slow motion against the far wall. \"Now why don't\n you go away, too?\"\n\n\n Tommy turned purple. \"We've got five months,\" he said\n hoarsely. \"Do you hear me? If they aren't going to have their\n babies in five months, we're dead men.\"\n\n\n Charlie chuckled. \"Five months, he says. We figured the\n babies to come in about three months—right, Spike? Not that\n it'll make much difference to us.\" Charlie sank slowly down to\n the desk. He wasn't laughing any more. \"We're never going to\n see any Grdznth babies. It's going to be a little too cold for\n that. The energy factor,\" he mumbled. \"Nobody thought of\n that except in passing. Should have, though, long ago. Two\n completely independent universes, obviously two energy systems.\n Incompatible. We were dealing with mass, space and\n dimension—but the energy differential was the important one.\"\n\n\n \"What about the energy?\"\n\n\n \"We're loaded with it. Super-charged. Packed to the breaking\n point and way beyond.\" Charlie scribbled frantically on\n the desk pad. \"Look, it took energy for them to come through—immense\n quantities of energy. Every one that came through\n upset the balance, distorted our whole energy pattern. And\n they knew from the start that the differential was all on their\n side—a million of them unbalances four billion of us. All\n they needed to overload us completely was time for enough\n crossings.\"\n\n\n \"And we gave it to them.\" Pete sat down slowly, his face\n green. \"Like a rubber ball with a dent in the side. Push in one\n side, the other side pops out. And we're the other side.\n When?\"\n\n\n \"Any day now. Maybe any minute.\" Charlie spread his\n hands helplessly. \"Oh, it won't be bad at all. Spike here was\n telling me. Mean temperature in only 39 below zero, lots of\n good clean snow, thousands of nice jagged mountain peaks.\n A lovely place, really. Just a little too cold for Grdznth. They\n thought Earth was much nicer.\"\n\n\n \"For them,\" whispered Tommy.\n\n\n \"For them,\" Charlie said.\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from \"Tiger by the Tail and Other Science\n Fiction Stories by Alan E. Nourse\" and was first published in\nGalaxy\nOctober 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence\n that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor\n spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Where was the plane that Pete was aboard heading?", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_1", "options": ["Washington D.C.", "New Philly", "Florida", "L.A."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the Public Relations Bureau do?", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_2", "options": ["Sell movies to people who don't want to buy them", "Manage the campaign for Senator Stokes", "Manage the media relating to Grdznth", "Keep the public from finding out about time travel"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did the majority of the population think was the worst part about the Grdznth?", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_3", "options": ["Their off-putting appearance ", "They were too polite", "They liked to scare children", "They could show up anywhere at any time"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why were the Grdznth leaving their own Universe?", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_4", "options": ["Their planet was cooling down too much", "Their sun was about to explode", "They were being chased ", "They did so completely by choice"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did the Grzdnth choose Earth to travel to?", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_5", "options": ["The Earthlings were very hospitable", "It had the right climate for their gestation period", "There was a large source of food for them", "It was nearby in location to their most previous home"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was Tommy referring to when he said that the \"parking fee\" was \"plenty?\"", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_6", "options": ["The Grzdnth would give the humans immense amounts of money for letting them stay.", "The Grzdnth would charge the humans in order to stay on their planet", "The Grzdnth would let the humans live for letting them stay.", "The Grzdnth would give the humans the knowledge of inter-dimensional travel for letting them stay."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was Pete's approach to make the Grzdnth more likeable?", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_7", "options": ["Explain the immense reward that they would give the humans", "Empathizing with the fact that they were expecting mothers", "Add them to human media as benevolent companions", "Use make-up to make them more attractive"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was Tommy talking about when he mentioned \"tolerance levels?\"", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_8", "options": ["The precision of the technology that the Grzdnth used", "The public's tolerance of the Grzdnth's presence on Earth", "The level of null-gravity that humans could withstand", "The Grzdnth Wive's heat tolerance"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was making Pete begin to get anxious about their deal with the Grzdnth?", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_9", "options": ["The Grzdnth kept coming through in greater numbers", "The government was starting to threaten Pete's job", "The public was only willing to wait 1 more month for the Grzdnth babies", "Pete hadn't received any progress reports on the technology advancements "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the ultimate outcome of letting the Grzdnth take repreive Earth?", "question_unique_id": "24290_VOTN7PR9_10", "options": ["The Grzdnth decided to make Earth a permanent home and cooperate with the humas", "The Grzdnth enslaved humankind after staging a coupe", "Humankind would be transported to a parallel universe", "Humans were able to discover the secrets of inter-dimensional travel"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/4/2/9/24290//24290-h//24290-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "31736", "set_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Star Performer", "year": 1964, "author": "Shea, Robert", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Short stories; Martians -- Fiction; Revenge -- Fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from the September 1960 issue of If. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\nStar Performer\nBy ROBERT J. SHEA\nIllustrated by DICK FRANCIS\nBlue Boy's rating was high and his fans were loyal to the\n death—anyone's death!\nGavir gingerly fitted the round opening in the bottom of the silvery\n globe over the top of his hairless blue skull. He pulled the globe\n down until he felt tiny filaments touching his scalp. The tips of the\n wires were cold.\n\n\n The moderator then said, \"\nDreaming Through the Universe\ntonight\n brings you the first native Martian to appear on the dreamwaves—Gavir\n of the Desert Men. With him is his guardian, Dr. Malcomb Rice, the\n noted anthropologist.\"\n\n\n Then the moderator questioned Malcomb, while Gavir nervously\n awaited the moment when his thoughts would be transmitted to millions\n of Earthmen. Malcomb told how he had been struck by Gavir's\n intelligence and missionary-taught ability to speak Earth's language,\n and had decided to bring Gavir to Earth.\n\n\n The moderator turned to Gavir. \"Are you anxious to get back to Mars?\"\nNo!\nGavir thought. Back behind the Preserve Barrier that killed you\n instantly if you stepped too close to it? Back to the constant fear of\n being seized by MDC guards for a labor pool, to wind up in the MDC\n mines?\n\n\n Mars was where Gavir's father had been pinned, bayonets through his\n hands and feet, to the wall of a shack just the other side of the\n Barrier, to die slowly, out of Gavir's reach. Father James told Gavir\n that the head of MDC himself had ordered the killing, because Gavir's\n father had tried to organize resistance to the Corporation. Mars was\n where the magic powers of the Earthmen and the helplessness of the\n Martian tribes would always protect the head of MDC from Gavir's\n vengeance.\n\n\n Back to that world of hopeless fear and hatred?\nI never want to go\n back to Mars! I want to stay here!\nBut that wasn't what he was supposed to think. Quickly he said, \"I\n will be happy to return to my people.\"\n\n\n A movement caught his eye. The producer, reclining on a divan in a far\n corner of the small studio, was making some kind of signal by beating\n his fist against his forehead.\n\n\n \"Well, enough of that!\" the moderator said briskly. \"How about singing\n one of your tribal songs for us?\"\n\n\n Gavir said, \"I will sing the\nSong of Going to Hunt\n.\" He heaved\n himself up from the divan, and, feet planted wide apart, threw back\n his head and began to howl.\n\n\n He was considered a poor singer in his tribe, and he was not surprised\n that Malcomb and the moderator winced. But Malcomb had told him that\n it wouldn't matter. The dreamees receiving the dreamcast would hear\n the song as it\nshould\nsound, as Gavir heard it in his mind.\n Everything that Gavir saw and heard and felt in his mind, the dreamees\n could see and hear and feel....\n\n\n\n\n I\n t was cold, bitter cold, on the plain. The hunter stood at the edge\n of the camp as the shriveled Martian sun struck the tops of the Shakam\n hills. The hunter hefted the long, balanced narvoon, the throwing\n knife, in his hand. He had faith in the knife, and in his skill with\n it.\n\n\n The hunter filled his lungs, the cold air reaching deep into his\n chest. He shouted out his throat-bursting hunting cry. He began to run\n across the plain.\n\n\n Crouching behind crumbling red rocks, racing over flat expanses of\n orange sand, the hunter sought traces of the seegee, the great slow\n desert beast whose body provided his tribe with all the essentials of\n existence. At last he saw tracks. He mounted a dune. Out on the plain\n before him a great brown seegee lumbered patiently, unaware of its\n danger.\n\n\n The hunter was about to strike out after it, when a dark form leaped\n at him.\n\n\n The hunter saw it out of the corner of his eye at the last moment. His\n startled sidestep saved him from the neck-breaking snap of the great\n jaws.\n\n\n The drock's long body was armored with black scales. Curving fangs\n protruded from its upper jaw. Its hand-like forepaws ended in hooked\n claws, to grasp and tear its prey. It was larger, stronger, faster\n than the hunter. The thin Martian air carried weirdly high-pitched\n cries which proclaimed its craving to sink its fangs into the hunter's\n body. The drock's huge hind legs coiled back on their triple joints,\n and it sprang.\n\n\n The hunter thrust the gleaming knife out before him, so that the dark\n body would land on its gleaming blade. The drock twisted in mid-air\n and landed to one side of the hunter.\n\n\n Now, before it could gather itself for another spring, there was time\n for one cast of the blade. It had to be done at once. It had to be\n perfect. If it failed, the knife would be lost and the drock would\n have its kill. The hunter grasped the weapon by the blade, drew his\n arm back, and snapped it forward.\n\n\n The blade struck deep into the throat of the drock.\n\n\n The drock screamed eerily and jumped clumsily. The hunter threw\n himself at the great, dark body and retrieved the knife. He struck\n with it again and again into the gray twitching belly. Colorless blood\n ran out over the hard, tightly-stretched skin.\n\n\n The drock fell, gave a last convulsion, and lay still. The hunter\n plunged the blade into the red sand to clean it. He threw back his\n head and bellowed his hunting cry. There was great glory in killing\n the drock, for it showed that the Desert Man and not the drock, was\n lord of the red waste....\nGavir sat down on the divan, exhausted, his song finished. He didn't\n hear the moderator winding up the dreamcast. Then the producer of the\n program was upon him.\n\n\n He began shouting even before Gavir removed his headset. \"What kind\n of a fool are you? Before you started that song, you dreamed things\n about the Martian Development Corporation that were libelous! I got\n the whole thing—the Barrier, the guards, the labor pools and mines,\n the father crucified. It was awful! MDC is one of our biggest\n sponsors.\"\n\n\n Malcomb said, \"You can't expect an untrained young Martian to control\n his very thoughts. And may I point out that your tone is hostile?\"\n\n\n At this a sudden change came over the producer. The standard Earth\n expression—invincible benignity—took control of his face. \"I\n apologize for having spoken sharply, but dreamcasting is a\n nerve-wracking business. If it weren't for Ethical Conditioning, I\n don't know how I'd control my aggressive impulses. The Suppression of\n Aggression is the Foundation of Civilization, eh?\"\n\n\n Malcomb smiled. \"Ethical Conditioning Keeps Society from Fissioning.\"\n He shook hands with the producer.\n\n\n \"Come around tomorrow at 1300 and collect your fee,\" said the\n producer. \"Good night, gentlemen.\"\n\n\n As they left the Global Dreamcasting System building, Gavir said to\n Malcomb, \"Can we go to a bookstore tonight?\"\n\n\n \"Tomorrow. I'm taking you to your hotel and then I'm going back to my\n apartment. We both need sleep. And don't forget, you've been warned\n not to go prowling around the city by yourself....\"\n\n\n As soon as Gavir was sure that Malcomb was out of the hotel and well\n on his way home, he left his room and went out into the city.\n\n\n In a pitifully few days he would be back in the Preserve, back with\n the fear of MDC, with hunger and the hopeless desire to find and kill\n the man who had ordered his father's death.\n\n\n Now he had an opportunity to learn more about the universe of the\n Earthmen. Despite Malcomb's orders, he was going to find a seller of\n books.\n\n\n During a reading class at the mission school, Father James had said,\n \"In books there is power. All that you call magic in our Earth\n civilization is explained in books.\" Gavir wanted to learn. It was his\n only hope to find an alternative to the short, fear-ridden,\n impoverished life he foresaw for himself.\n\n\n A river of force carried him, along with thousands of\n Earthmen—godlike beings in their perfect health and their impregnable\n benignity—through the streets of the city. Platforms of force raised\n and lowered him through the city's multiple levels....\n\n\n And, as has always happened to outlanders in cities, he became lost.\nHe was in a quarter where furtive red and violet lights danced in the\n shadows of hunched buildings. A half-dozen Earthmen approached him,\n stopped and stared. Gavir stared back.\n\n\n The Earthmen wore black garments and furs and metal ornaments. The\n biggest of them wore a black suit, a long black cape, and a\n broad-brimmed black hat. He carried a coiled whip in one hand. The\n Earthmen turned to one another.\n\n\n \"A Martian.\"\n\n\n \"Let's give pain and death to the Martian! It will be a new\n experience—one to savor.\"\n\n\n \"Take pain, Martian!\"\n\n\n The Earthman with the black hat raised his arm, and the long heavy\n lash fell on Gavir. He felt a savage sting in the arm he had thrown up\n to protect his eyes.\n\n\n Gavir leaped at the Earthmen. He clubbed the man with the whip across\n the face. As the others rushed in, Gavir flailed about him with long\n arms and heavy fists.\n\n\n He began to enjoy it. It was rare that a Martian had an opportunity to\n knock Earthmen down. The mood of the\nSong of Going to Hunt\ncame over\n him. He sprang free of his attackers and drew his glittering narvoon.\n\n\n The man with the whip yelled. They looked at his knife, and then all\n at once turned and ran. Gavir drew back his arm and threw the knife\n with a practiced catapult-snap of shoulder, elbow, and wrist. To his\n surprise, the blade clattered to the street far short of his\n retreating enemies. Then he remembered: you couldn't throw far in the\n gravity of Earth.\n\n\n The Earthmen disappeared into a lift-force field. Gavir decided not to\n pursue them. He walked forward and picked up his narvoon, and saw that\n the street on which it lay was solid black pavement, not a\n force-field. He must be in the lowest level of the city. He didn't\n know his way around; he might meet more enemies. He forgot about the\n books he'd wanted, and began to search for his hotel.\nWhen he got back to his room, he went immediately to bed. He slept\n late.\n\n\n Malcomb woke him at 1100. Gavir told Malcomb about the\n strangely-dressed men who had tried to kill him.\n\n\n \"I told you not to wander around alone.\"\n\n\n \"But you did not tell me that Earthmen might try to kill me. You have\n told me that Earthmen are good and peace-loving, that there have been\n no acts of violence on Earth for many decades. You have told me that\n only the MDC men are exceptions, because they are living off Earth,\n and this somehow makes them different.\"\n\n\n \"Well, those people you ran into are another exception.\"\n\n\n \"Why?\"\n\n\n \"You know about the Regeneration and Rejuvenation treatment we have\n here on Earth. A variation of it was given you to acclimate you to\n Earth's gravity and atmosphere. Well, since the R&R treatment was\n developed, we Earthmen have a life-expectancy of about one hundred\n fifty years. Those people who attacked you were Century-Plus. They are\n over a hundred years old, but as healthy, physically, as ever.\"\n\n\n \"What is wrong with them?\"\n\n\n \"They seem to have outgrown their Ethical Conditioning. They live\n wildly. Violently. It's a problem without precedent, and we don't know\n what to do with them. The fact is, Senile Delinquency is our number\n one problem.\"\n\n\n \"Why not punish them?\" said Gavir.\n\n\n \"They're too powerful. They are often people who've pursued successful\n careers and acquired a good deal of property and position. And there\n are getting to be more of them all the time. But come on. You and I\n have to go over to Global Dreamcasting and collect our fee.\"\nThe impeccably affable producer of\nDreaming Through the Universe\ngave Malcomb a check and then asked them to follow him.\n\n\n \"Mr. Davery wants to see you. Mr.\nHoppy\nDavery, executive\n vice-president in charge of production. Scion of one of Earth's oldest\n communications media families!\"\n\n\n They went with the producer to the upper reaches of the Global\n Dreamcasting building. There they were ushered into a huge office.\n\n\n They found Mr. Hoppy Davery lounging on a divan the size of a\n space-port. He was youthful in appearance, as were all Earthmen, but a\n soft plumpness and a receding hairline made him look slightly older\n than average.\n\n\n He pointed a rigid finger at Malcomb and Gavir. \"I want you two to\n hear a condensed recording of statements taken from calls we received\n last night.\"\n\n\n Gavir stiffened. They\nhad\ngotten into trouble because of his\n thoughts about MDC.\n\n\n A voice boomed out of the ceiling.\n\n\n \"That Martian boy has power. That song was a fist in the jaw. More!\"\n\n\n A woman's voice followed:\n\n\n \"If you let that boy go back to Mars I'll never dream a Global program\n again.\"\n\n\n More voices:\n\n\n \"Enormous!\"\n\n\n \"Potent!\"\n\n\n \"That hunting song drove me mad. I\nlike\nbeing mad!\"\n\n\n \"Keep him on Earth.\"\n\n\n Hoppy Davery pressed a button in the control panel on his divan, and\n the voices fell silent.\n\n\n \"Those callers that admitted their age were all Century-Plus. The boy\n appeals to the Century-Plus mentality. I want to try him again. This\n time on a really big dream-show, not just an educational 'cast. Got a\n spot on next week's Farfel Flisket Show. If he gets the right\n response, we talk about a contract. Okay?\"\n\n\n Malcomb said, \"His visa expires—\"\n\n\n \"We'll take care of his visa.\"\n\n\n Gavir trembled with joy. Hoppy Davery pressed another button and a\n secretary entered with papers. She was followed by another woman.\n\n\n The second woman was dark-haired and slender. She wore leather boots\n and tight brown breeches. She was bare from the waist up and her\n breasts were young and full. A jewelled clip fastened a scarlet cape\n at her neck. Her lips were a disconcertingly vivid red, apparently an\n artificial color. She kissed Hoppy Davery on the forehead, leaving red\n blotches on his pink dome. He wiped his forehead and looked at his\n hand.\n\n\n \"Do you have to wear that barbaric face-paint?\" Hoppy turned sad eyes\n on Gavir and Malcomb. \"Gentlemen, my mother, Sylvie Davery.\"\n\n\n A Senile Delinquent! thought Gavir. She looked like Davery's younger\n sister. Malcomb stared at her apprehensively, and Gavir wondered if\n she were somehow going to attack them.\n\n\n She looked at Gavir. \"Mmm. What a body, what gorgeous blue skin. How\n tall are you, Blue Boy?\"\n\n\n \"He's approximately seven feet tall, Sylvie,\" said Hoppy, \"and what do\n you want here, anyway?\"\n\n\n \"Just came up to see Blue Boy. One of the crowd dreamed him last\n night. Positively manic about him. I found out he'd be with you.\"\n\n\n \"See?\" said Hoppy to Gavir. \"The Century-Plus mentality. You've got\n something they go for. Undoubtedly because you're—forgive me—such a\n complete barbarian. That's what they're all trying to be.\"\n\n\n \"Spare me another lecture on Senile Delinquency, Our Number One\n Problem.\" She walked to the door and Gavir watched her all the way.\n She turned with a swirl of scarlet and a dramatic display of healthy\n young flesh. \"See you again, Blue Boy.\"\n\n\n After Sylvie left, Hoppy Davery said, \"That might be a good\n professional name—Blue Boy. Gavir doesn't\nmean\nanything. Now what\n kind of a song could you do for the Farfel Flisket show?\"\n\n\n Gavir thought. \"Perhaps you would like the\nSong of Creation\n.\"\n\n\n \"It's part of a fertility rite,\" Malcomb explained.\n\n\n \"Great! Give the Senile Delinquents another workout. It's not quite\n ethical, but its good for us. But for heaven's sake, Blue Boy, keep\n your mind off MDC!\"\nThe following week, Gavir sang the\nSong of Creation\non the Farfel\n Flisket show, and transmitted the images which it brought up in his\n mind to his audience. A jubilant Hoppy Davery called him at his hotel\n next morning.\n\n\n \"Best response I've ever seen! The Century-Plussers have been rioting\n and throwing mass orgies ever since you sang. But they take time out\n to call us up and beg for more. I've got a sponsor and a two-year\n contract lined up for you.\"\n\n\n The sponsor was pacing back and forth in Hoppy Davery's office when\n Malcomb and Gavir arrived. Hoppy introduced him proudly. \"Mr. Jarvis\n Spurling, president of the Martian Development Corporation.\"\n\n\n Gavir's hand leaped at the narvoon under his doublet.\n\n\n Then he stopped himself. He turned the gesture into the proffer of a\n handshake. \"How do you do?\" he said quietly. In his mind he\n congratulated himself. He had learned emotional control from the\n Earthmen. Here was the man who had ordered his father crucified! Yet\n he had managed to hide his instant desire to strike, to kill, to carry\n out the oath of the blood feud then and there.\n\n\n Jarvis Spurling ignored Gavir's hand and stared coldly at him. There\n was not a trace of the usual Earthman's kindliness in his square,\n battered face. \"I'm told you got talent. Okay, but a Bluie is a Bluie.\n I'll pay you because a Bluie on Dreamvision is good publicity for MDC\n products. But one slip like on your first 'cast and you go back to the\n Preserve.\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Spurling!\" said Malcomb. \"Your tone is hostile!\"\n\n\n \"Damn right. That Ethical Conditioning slop doesn't work on me. I've\n lived too long on the frontier. And I know Bluies.\"\nIwill sign the contract,\" said Gavir.\n\n\n As he drew his signature pictograph on the contract, Sylvie Davery\n sauntered in. She held a white tube between her painted lips. The end\n of the tube was glowing and giving off clouds of smoke. Hoppy Davery\n coughed and Sylvie winked at Gavir. Gavir straightened up, and she\n took a long look at his seven feet.\n\n\n \"All finished, Blue Boy? Come on, let's go have a drink at Lucifer\n Grotto.\"\n\n\n Caution told Gavir to refuse. But before he could speak Spurling\n snapped, \"Disgusting! An Earth woman and a Bluie! If you were on Mars,\n lady, we'd deport you so fast your tail would burn. And God help the\n Bluie!\"\n\n\n Sylvie blew a cloud of smoke at Spurling. \"You're not on Mars, Jack.\n You're back in civilization where we do what we damned well please.\"\n\n\n Spurling laughed. \"I've heard about you Century-Plussers. You're all\n sick.\"\n\n\n \"You can't claim any monopoly on mental health. Not with that\n concentration camp you run on Mars. Coming, Gavir?\"\n\n\n Gavir grinned at Spurling. \"The contract, I believe, does not cover my\n private life.\"\n\n\n Hoppy Davery said, \"Sylvie, I don't think this is wise.\"\n\n\n Sylvie uttered a short, sharp obscenity, linked arms with Gavir, and\n strolled out.\n\n\n \"You screwball Senile Delinquent,\" Spurling yelled after Sylvie, \"you\n oughtta be locked up!\"\nLucifer Grotto was in that same quarter in which Gavir had been\n attacked. Sylvie told him it was\nthe\nhangout for wealthier New York\n Century-Plussers. Gavir told her about the attack, and she laughed.\n \"It won't happen again. You're a hero to the Senile Delinquents now.\n By the way, the big fellow with the broad-brimmed hat, he's one of the\n most prominent Senile Delinquents of our day. He's president of the\n biggest privately-owned space line, but he likes to call himself the\n Hat Rat. You must be one of the few people who ever got away from him\n alive.\"\n\n\n \"He seemed happy to get away from me,\" said Gavir.\n\n\n An arrangement of force-planes and 3V projections made the front of\n Lucifer Grotto appear to be a curtain of flames. Gavir hung back, but\n Sylvie inserted a tiny gold pitchfork into a small aperture in the\n glowing, rippling surface. The flames swept aside, revealing a\n doorway. A bearded man in black tights escorted them through a\n luridly-lit bar to a private room. When they were alone, Sylvie\n dropped her cape to the floor, sat on the edge of a huge, pink divan,\n and smiled at Gavir.\n\n\n Gavir contemplated her. That she was over a hundred years old was a\n little frightening. But the skin of her face and her bare upper body\n was a warm color, and tautly filled. She had lashed out at Spurling,\n and he liked her for that. But in one way she was like Spurling. She\n didn't fit into the bland, non-violent world of Malcomb and Hoppy.\n\n\n He shook his head. He said, \"Sylvie, why—well, why are you the way\n you are? Why—and how—have you broken away from Ethical\n Conditioning?\"\n\n\n Sylvie frowned. She spoke a few words into the air, ordering drinks.\n She said, \"I didn't do it deliberately. When I reached the age of\n about a hundred it stopped working for me. I suddenly wanted to do\n what\nI\nwanted to do. And then I found out that I didn't\nknow\nwhat\n I wanted to do. It was Ethical Conditioning or nothing, so I picked\n nothing. And here I am, chasing nothing.\"\n\n\n \"How do you chase nothing?\"\n\n\n She set fire to a white tube. \"This, for instance. They used to do it\n before they found out it caused cancer. Now there's no more cancer,\n but even if there were, I'd still smoke. That's the attitude I have.\n You try things. You live in the past, if you're inclined, adopt the\n costumes and manners of some more colorful time. You try ridiculous\n things, disgusting things, vicious things. You know they're all\n nothing, but you have to do something, so you go on doing nothing,\n elaborately and violently.\"\n\n\n A tray of drinks rose through the floor. Sylvie frowned as she noticed\n a folded paper tucked between the glasses. She picked it up and read\n it, chuckled, and read it again, aloud.\n\n\n \"Sir: I beg you to forgive the presumption of my recent attack on\n you. Since then you have captured my imagination. I now hold you to be\n the noblest savage of them all. Henceforward please consider me, Your\n obedient servant, Hat Rat.\"\n\n\n \"You've impressed him,\" said Sylvie. \"But you impress me even more.\n Come here.\"\n\n\n She held out slim arms to him. He had no wish to refuse her. She was\n not like a Martian woman, but he found the differences exciting and\n attractive. He went to her, and he forgot entirely that she was over a\n hundred years old.\nIn the months that followed, Gavir's fame spread over Earth. By\n spring, the rating computers credited him with an audience of eight\n hundred million—ninety-five percent of whom were Century-Plussers.\n Davery doubled Gavir's salary.\n\n\n Gavir toured the world with Sylvie, mobbed everywhere by worshipful\n Century-Plussers. Male Century-Plussers by the millions adopted blue\n doublets and blue kilts in honor of their hero.\n\n\n Blue-dyed hair was now\nde rigueur\namong the ladies of Lucifer\n Grotto. The Hat Rat himself, who often appeared at a respectful\n distance in crowds around Gavir, now wore a wide-brimmed hat of\n brightest blue.\n\n\n Then there came the dreamcast on which Gavir sang the\nSong of\n Complaint\n.\n\n\n It was an ancient song, a Desert Man's outcry against injustice,\n enemies, false friends and callous leaders. It was a protest against\n sufferings that could neither be borne nor prevented. At the climax of\n the song Gavir pictured a tribal chief who refused to make fair\n division of the spoils of a hunt with his warriors. Gradually he\n allowed this image to turn into a picture of Hoppy Davery withholding\n bundles of money from a starving Gavir. Then he ended the song.\n\n\n Hoppy sent for him next morning.\n\n\n \"Why did you do that?\" he said. \"Listen to this.\"\n\n\n A recorded voice boomed: \"This is Hat Rat. Pay the Blue Boy what he\n deserves, or I will give you death. It will be a personal thing\n between you and me. I will besprinkle you with corrosive acids; I will\n burn out your eyes; I will—\"\n\n\n Hoppy cut the voice off. Gavir saw that he was sweating. \"There were\ndozens\nlike that. If you want more money, I'll\ngive\nyou more\n money. Say something nice about me on your next dreamcast, for\n heaven's sake!\"\n\n\n Gavir spread his big blue hands. \"I am sorry. I don't want more money.\n I cannot always control the pictures I make. These images come into\n my mind even though they have nothing to do with me.\"\n\n\n Hoppy shook his head. \"That's because you haven't had Ethical\n Conditioning. We don't have this trouble with our other performers.\n You just must remember that dreamvision is the most potent\n communications medium ever devised. Be\ncareful\n.\"\n\n\n \"I will,\" said Gavir.\nOn his next dreamcast Gavir sang the\nSong of the Blood Feud\n. He\n pictured a Desert Man whose father had been killed by a drock.\n\n\n The Desert Man ran over the red sand, and he found the drock. He did\n not throw his knife. That would not have satisfied his hatred. He fell\n upon the drock and stabbed and stabbed.\n\n\n The Desert Man howled his hunting-cry over the body of his enemy, and\n spat into its face.\n\n\n And the fanged face of the drock turned into the square, battered face\n of Jarvis Spurling. Gavir held the image in his mind for a long\n moment.\n\n\n When the dreamcast was over, a studio page ran up to Gavir. \"Mr.\n Spurling wants to see you at once, at his office.\"\n\n\n \"Let him come and find me,\" said Gavir. \"Let us go, Sylvie.\"\n\n\n They went to Lucifer Grotto, where Gavir's wealthiest admirers among\n the Senile Delinquents were giving a party for him in the Pandemonium\n Room. The only prominent person missing, as Sylvie remarked after\n surveying the crowd, was the Hat Rat. They wondered about it, but no\n one knew where he was.\n\n\n Sheets of flame illuminated the wild features and strange garments of\n over a hundred Century-Plus ladies and gentlemen. Gouts of flame\n leaped from the walls to light antique-style cigarettes. Drinks were\n refilled from nozzles of molded fire.\n\n\n An hour passed from the time of Gavir's arrival.\n\n\n Then Jarvis Spurling joined the party. There was a heavy frontier\n sonic pistol strapped at his waist. A protesting Malcomb was behind\n him.\n\n\n Jarvis Spurling's square face was dark with anger. \"You deliberately\n put my face on that animal! You want to make the public hate me. I pay\n your salary and keep you here on Earth, and this is what I get for it.\n All right. A Bluie is a Bluie, and I'll treat you like a Bluie should\n be treated.\" He unsnapped his holster and drew the square, heavy\n pistol out and pointed it at Gavir.\n\n\n Gavir stood up. His right hand plucked at his doublet.\n\n\n \"You're itching to go for that throwing knife,\" said Spurling. \"Go on!\n Take it out and get ready to throw it. I'll give you that much\n chance. Let's make a game out of this. We'll make like we're back on\n Mars, Bluie, and you're out hunting a drock. And you find one, only\n this drock has a gun. How about that, Bluie?\"\n\n\n Gavir took out the narvoon, grasped the blade, and drew his arm back.\n\n\n \"Gavir!\"\n\n\n It was the Hat Rat. He stood between pillars of flame in the doorway\n of the Pandemonium Room of Lucifer Grotto, and there was a peculiar\n contrivance of dark brown wood and black metal tubing cradled in his\n arm. \"This ancient shotgun I dedicate to your blood feud. I shall hunt\n down your enemy, Gavir!\"\n\n\n Spurling turned. The Hat Rat saw him.\n\n\n \"The enemy!\" the Hat Rat shouted.\n\n\n The shotgun exploded.\n\n\n Spurling's body was thrown back against Gavir. Gavir saw a huge ragged\n red caved-in place in Spurling's chest. Spurling's body sagged to the\n floor and lay there face up, eyes open. The Senile Delinquents of\n Lucifer Grotto leaned forward to grin at the tattered body.\n\n\n Still holding the narvoon, Gavir stood over his dead enemy. He threw\n back his head and howled out the hunting cry of the Desert Men. Then\n he looked down and spat in Jarvis Spurling's dead face.\nEND\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Gavir brought to Earth from Mars?", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_1", "options": ["As punishment for dissenting against the MDC", "Because he was the first Martian that humans had encountered", "To perform in a dreamwave performance ", "As part of a labor pool"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was Gavir's true motivation for staying on Earth?", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_2", "options": ["To avoid having to return to hunting on Mars", "To hide from persecution for the crimes he committed", "To kill the president of the MDC in an act of revenge", "To spend time with Sylvie"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are the Earthlings always \"invincibly benign?\" ", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_3", "options": ["All of the malevolent people are sent to Mars", "There is no more inequality in Earth's society", "People live to be much older and are more calm because of this", "They undergo ethical conditioning"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the Earthmen attack Gavir intially?", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_4", "options": ["The Earthmen were older citizens who had outgrown their ethical conditioning", "They were members of the MDC", "Earthlings were very prejudiced against Martians", "Gavir had offended them by staring"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Gaivir go wandering around by himself after being told not to?", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_5", "options": ["He wanted to go to the Lucifer Grotto to meet Sylvie", "He was looking for the president of the MDC so that he could enact his revenge", "He wanted to buy some Earth books to learn more about the Earthlings", "He wanted to hide in order to avoid being sent back to Mars "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the producers of Dreaming Through the Universe like Gaivir?", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_6", "options": ["They did not have to pay Gaivir for the work that he did because he was Martian", "They respected Gaivir's straightforward and honest attitude", "Gaivir appealed to the older, more wilder, demographic", "Gaivir was very complaint and only broadcasted the material that the producers wanted"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Mr. Spurling able to speak in a hostile tone?", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_7", "options": ["He was secretly martian himself", "He had lived on Mars for too long ", "He had never undergone the ethical conditioning", "He was a \"senile delinquent\" and had outgrown his ethical conditioning"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What about Gaivir appealed to the century-plussers?", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_8", "options": ["The fact that he was willing to be romantically involved with a century plusser", "His different appearance, especially his blue skin", "His amazing singing voice", "His untamed, barbaric nature"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the silver helmet filled with wires that Gaivir put on?", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_9", "options": ["A mechanism to keep him more under control while performing", "A device to transmit his thoughts through dreamvision", "A space helmet to allow him to survive in Earth's gravity", "The traditional headwear for his Martian tribe"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Jarvis Spurling want to kill Gaivir?", "question_unique_id": "31736_TV0CUXDH_10", "options": ["Gaivir was evading Spurling so that he would not have to return to mars", "Gaivir had imagined Spurling's face on an animal that he had killed in a dreamvision", "Spurling was secretly in love with Silvie and jealous of Gaivir", "Spurling found out about Gaivir's revenge plot"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/3/31736//31736-h//31736-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "59368", "set_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Juvenile Delinquent", "year": 1955, "author": "Ludwig, Edward W.", "topic": "Families -- Fiction; Boys -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction; Literacy -- Fiction", "article": "juvenile delinquent\nBY EDWARD W. LUDWIG\nWhen everything is either restricted,\n \nconfidential or top-secret, a Reader\n \nis a very bad security risk.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nTick-de-tock,\ntick-de-tock\n, whispered the antique clock on the first\n floor of the house.\n\n\n There was no sound save for the ticking—and for the pounding of\n Ronnie's heart.\n\n\n He stood alone in his upstairs bedroom. His slender-boned,\n eight-year-old body trembling, perspiration glittering on his white\n forehead.\n\n\n To Ronnie, the clock seemed to be saying:\nDaddy's coming, Daddy's coming.\nThe soft shadows of September twilight in this year of 2056 were\n seeping into the bedroom. Ronnie welcomed the fall of darkness. He\n wanted to sink into its deep silence, to become one with it, to escape\n forever from savage tongues and angry eyes.\n\n\n A burst of hope entered Ronnie's fear-filled eyes. Maybe something\n would happen. Maybe Dad would have an accident. Maybe—\n\n\n He bit his lip hard, shook his head. No. No matter what Dad might do,\n it wasn't right to wish—\n\n\n The whirling whine of a gyro-car mushroomed up from the landing\n platform outside.\n\n\n Ronnie shivered, his pulse quickening. The muscles in his small body\n were like a web of taut-drawn wires.\n\n\n Sound and movement below. Mom flicking off the controls of the\n kitchen's Auto-Chef. The slow stride of her high heels through the\n living room. The slamming of a gyro-car door. The opening of the front\n door of the house.\n\n\n Dad's deep, happy voice echoed up the stairway:\n\n\n \"Hi, beautiful!\"\n\n\n Ronnie huddled in the darkness by the half-open bedroom door.\nPlease, Mama\n, his mind cried,\nplease don't tell Daddy what I did.\nThere was a droning, indistinct murmur.\n\n\n Dad burst, \"He was doing\nwhat\n?\"\n\n\n More murmuring.\n\n\n \"I can't believe it. You really saw him?... I'll be damned.\"\n\n\n Ronnie silently closed the bedroom door.\nWhy did you tell him, Mama? Why did you have to tell him?\n\"Ronnie!\" Dad called.\n\n\n Ronnie held his breath. His legs seemed as numb and nerveless as the\n stumps of dead trees.\n\n\n \"\nRonnie! Come down here!\n\"\nLike an automaton, Ronnie shuffled out of his bedroom. He stepped\n on the big silver disk on the landing. The auto-stairs clicked into\n humming movement under his weight.\n\n\n To his left, on the wall, he caught kaleidoscopic glimpses of Mom's old\n pictures, copies of paintings by medieval artists like Rembrandt, Van\n Gogh, Cezanne, Dali. The faces seemed to be mocking him. Ronnie felt\n like a wounded bird falling out of the sky.\n\n\n He saw that Dad and Mom were waiting for him.\n\n\n Mom's round blue eyes were full of mist and sadness. She hadn't\n bothered to smooth her clipped, creamy-brown hair as she always did\n when Dad was coming home.\n\n\n And Dad, handsome in his night-black, skin-tight Pentagon uniform, had\n become a hostile stranger with narrowed eyes of black fire.\n\n\n \"Is it true, Ronnie?\" asked Dad. \"Were you really—really reading a\n book?\"\n\n\n Ronnie gulped. He nodded.\n\n\n \"Good Lord,\" Dad murmured. He took a deep breath and squatted down,\n held Ronnie's arms and looked hard into his eyes. For an instant he\n became the kind, understanding father that Ronnie knew.\n\n\n \"Tell me all about it, son. Where did you get the book? Who taught you\n to read?\"\n\n\n Ronnie tried to keep his legs from shaking. \"It was—Daddy, you won't\n make trouble, will you?\"\n\n\n \"This is between you and me, son. We don't care about anyone else.\"\n\n\n \"Well, it was Kenny Davis. He—\"\n\n\n Dad's fingers tightened on Ronnie's arms. \"Kenny Davis!\" he spat. \"The\n boy's no good. His father never had a job in his life. Nobody'd even\n offer him a job. Why, the whole town knows he's a Reader!\"\n\n\n Mom stepped forward. \"David, you promised you'd be sensible about this.\n You promised you wouldn't get angry.\"\n\n\n Dad grunted. \"All right, son. Go ahead.\"\n\n\n \"Well, one day after school Kenny said he'd show me something. He took\n me to his house—\"\n\n\n \"You went to that\nshack\n? You actually—\"\n\n\n \"Dear,\" said Mom. \"You promised.\"\n\n\n A moment of silence.\n\n\n Ronnie said, \"He took me to his house. I met his dad. Mr. Davis is lots\n of fun. He has a beard and he paints pictures and he's collected almost\n five hundred books.\"\n\n\n Ronnie's voice quavered.\n\n\n \"Go on,\" said Dad sternly.\n\n\n \"And I—and Mr. Davis said he'd teach me to read them if I promised not\n to tell anybody. So he taught me a little every day after school—oh,\n Dad, books are fun to read. They tell you things you can't see on the\n video or hear on the tapes.\"\n\n\n \"How long ago did all this start?\n\n\n \"T—two years ago.\"\n\n\n Dad rose, fists clenched, staring strangely at nothing.\n\n\n \"Two years,\" he breathed. \"I thought I had a good son, and yet for two\n years—\" He shook his head unbelievingly. \"Maybe it's my own fault.\n Maybe I shouldn't have come to this small town. I should have taken a\n house in Washington instead of trying to commute.\"\n\n\n \"David,\" said Mom, very seriously, almost as if she were praying, \"it\n won't be necessary to have him memory-washed, will it?\"\n\n\n Dad looked at Mom, frowning. Then he gazed at Ronnie. His soft-spoken\n words were as ominous as the low growl of thunder:\n\n\n \"I don't know, Edith. I don't know.\"\nDad strode to his easy chair by the fireplace. He sank into its\n foam-rubber softness, sighing. He murmured a syllable into a tiny\n ball-mike on the side of the chair. A metallic hand raised a lighted\n cigarette to his lips.\n\n\n \"Come here, son.\"\n\n\n Ronnie followed and sat on the hassock by Dad's feet.\n\n\n \"Maybe I've never really explained things to you, Ronnie. You see, you\n won't always be a boy. Someday you'll have to find a way of making a\n living. You've only two choices: You work for the government, like I\n do, or for a corporation.\"\n\n\n Ronnie blinked. \"Mr. Davis doesn't work for the gover'ment or for a\n corpor-ation.\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Davis isn't normal,\" Dad snapped. \"He's a hermit. No decent family\n would let him in their house. He grows his own food and sometimes he\n takes care of gardens for people. I want you to have more than that. I\n want you to have a nice home and be respected by people.\"\n\n\n Dad puffed furiously on his cigarette.\n\n\n \"And you can't get ahead if people know you've been a Reader. That's\n something you can't live down. No matter how hard you try, people\n always stumble upon the truth.\"\n\n\n Dad cleared his throat. \"You see, when you get a job, all the\n information you handle will have a classification. It'll be Restricted,\n Low-Confidential, Confidential, High-Confidential, Secret, Top-Secret.\n And all this information will be in writing. No matter what you do,\n you'll have access to some of this information at one time or another.\"\n\"B—but why do these things have to be so secret?\" Ronnie asked.\n\n\n \"Because of competitors, in the case of corporations—or because of\n enemy nations in the case of government work. The written material you\n might have access to could describe secret weapons and new processes\n or plans for next year's advertising—maybe even a scheme for, er,\n liquidation of a rival. If all facts and policies were made public,\n there might be criticism, controversy, opposition by certain groups.\n The less people know about things, the better. So we have to keep all\n these things secret.\"\n\n\n Ronnie scowled. \"But if things are written down, someone has to read\n them, don't they?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, son. One person in ten thousand might reach the point where\n his corporation or bureau will teach him to read. But you prove your\n ability and loyalty first. By the time you're 35 or 40, they might\nwant\nyou to learn to read. But for young people and children—well,\n it just isn't done. Why, the President himself wasn't trusted to learn\n till he was nearly fifty!\"\n\n\n Dad straightened his shoulders. \"Look at me. I'm only 30, but I've been\n a messenger for Secret material already. In a few years, if things go\n well, I should be handling\nTop\n-Secret stuff. And who knows? Maybe by\n the time I'm 50 I'll be\ngiving\norders instead of carrying them. Then\n I'll learn to read, too. That's the right way to do it.\"\n\n\n Ronnie shifted uncomfortably on the hassock. \"But can't a Reader get a\n job that's not so important. Like a barber or a plumber or—\"\n\n\n \"Don't you understand? The barber and plumbing equipment corporations\n set up their stores and hire men to work for them. You think they'd\n hire a Reader? People'd say you were a spy or a subversive or that\n you're crazy like old man Davis.\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Davis isn't crazy. And he isn't old. He's young, just like you,\n and—\"\n\n\n \"Ronnie!\"\n\n\n Dad's voice was knife-sharp and December-cold. Ronnie slipped off the\n hassock as if struck physically by the fury of the voice. He sat\n sprawled on his small posterior, fresh fear etched on his thin features.\n\n\n \"Damn it, son, how could you even\nthink\nof being a Reader? You've got\n a life-sized, 3-D video here, and we put on the smell and touch and\n heat attachments just for you. You can listen to any tape in the world\n at school. Ronnie, don't you realize I'd lose my job if people knew I\n had a Reader for a son?\"\n\n\n \"B—but, Daddy—\"\n\n\n Dad jumped to his feet. \"I hate to say it, Edith, but we've got to put\n this boy in a reformatory. Maybe a good memory-wash will take some of\n the nonsense out of him!\"\nRonnie suppressed a sob. \"No, Daddy, don't let them take away my brain.\n Please—\"\n\n\n Dad stood very tall and very stiff, not even looking at him. \"They\n won't take your brain, just your memory for the past two years.\"\n\n\n A corner of Mom's mouth twitched. \"David, I didn't want anything like\n this. I thought maybe Ronnie could have a few private psychiatric\n treatments. They can do wonderful things now—permi-hypnosis, creations\n of artificial psychic blocks. A memory-wash would mean that Ronnie'd\n have the mind of a six-year-old child again. He'd have to start to\n school all over again.\"\n\n\n Dad returned to his chair. He buried his face in trembling hands, and\n some of his anger seemed replaced by despair. \"Lord, Edith, I don't\n know what to do.\"\n\n\n He looked up abruptly, as if struck by a chilling new thought. \"You\n can't keep a two-year memory-wash a secret. I never thought of that\n before. Why, that alone would mean the end of my promotions.\"\n\n\n Silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the ticking of the\n antique clock. All movement seemed frozen, as if the room lay at the\n bottom of a cold, thick sea.\n\n\n \"David,\" Mom finally said.\n\n\n \"Yes?\"\n\n\n \"There's only one solution. We can't destroy two years of Ronnie's\n memory—you said that yourself. So we'll have to take him to a\n psychiatrist or maybe a psychoneurologist. A few short treatments—\"\n\n\n Dad interrupted: \"But he'd\nstill\nremember how to read, unconsciously\n anyway. Even permi-hypnosis would wear off in time. The boy can't keep\n going to psychiatrists for the rest of his life.\"\n\n\n Thoughtfully he laced his fingers together. \"Edith, what kind of a book\n was he reading?\"\n\n\n A tremor passed through Mom's slender body. \"There were three books on\n his bed. I'm not sure which one he was actually reading.\"\n\n\n Dad groaned. \"\nThree\nof them. Did you burn them?\"\n\n\n \"No, dear, not yet.\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know. Ronnie seemed to like them so much. I thought that maybe\n tonight, after you d seen them—\"\n\n\n \"Get them, damn it. Let's burn the filthy things.\"\n\n\n Mom went to a mahogany chest in the dining room, produced three faded\n volumes. She put them on the hassock at Dad's feet.\n\n\n Dad gingerly turned a cover. His lips curled in disgust as if he were\n touching a rotting corpse.\n\n\n \"Old,\" he mused, \"—so very old. Ironic, isn't it? Our lives are being\n wrecked by things that should have been destroyed and forgotten a\n hundred years ago.\"\n\n\n A sudden frown contorted his dark features.\nTick-de-tock, tick-de-tock\n, said the antique clock.\n\n\n \"A hundred years old,\" he repeated. His mouth became a hard, thin line.\n \"Edith, I think I know why Ronnie wanted to read, why he fell into the\n trap so easily.\"\n\n\n \"What do you mean, David?\"\n\n\n Dad nodded at the clock, and the slow, smouldering anger returned to\n his face. \"It's\nyour\nfault, Edith. You've always liked old things.\n That clock of your great-great-grandmother's. Those old prints on the\n wall. That stamp collection you started for Ronnie—stamps dated way\n back to the 1940's.\"\n\n\n Mom's face paled. \"I don't understand.\"\n\n\n \"You've interested Ronnie in old things. To a child in its formative\n years, in a pleasant house, these things symbolize peace and security.\n Ronnie's been conditioned from the very time of his birth to like old\n things. It was natural for him to be attracted by books. And we were\n just too stupid to realize it.\"\n\n\n Mom whispered hoarsely, \"I'm sorry, David.\"\n\n\n Hot anger flashed in Dad's eyes. \"It isn't enough to be sorry. Don't\n you see what this means? Ronnie'll have to be memory-washed back to the\n time of birth. He'll have to start life all over again.\"\n\n\n \"No, David, no!\"\n\n\n \"And in my position I can't afford to have an eight-year-old son with\n the mind of a new-born baby. It's got to be Abandonment, Edith, there's\n no other way. The boy can start life over in a reformatory, with a\n complete memory-wash. He'll never know we existed, and he'll never\n bother us again.\"\n\n\n Mom ran up to Dad. She put her hands on his shoulders. Great sobs burst\n from her shaking body.\n\n\n \"You can't, David! I won't let—\"\n\n\n He slapped her then with the palm of his hand. The sound was like a\n pistol shot in the hot, tight air.\n\n\n Dad stood now like a colossus carved of black ice. His right hand was\n still upraised, ready to strike again.\n\n\n Then his hand fell. His mind seemed to be toying with a new thought, a\n new concept.\n\n\n He seized one of the books on the hassock.\n\n\n \"Edith,\" he said crisply, \"just what was Ronnie reading? What's the\n name of this book?\"\n\n\n \"\nThe—The Adventures of Tom Sawyer\n,\" said Mom through her sobs.\n\n\n He grabbed the second book, held it before her shimmering vision.\n\n\n \"And the name of this?\"\n\n\n \"\nTarzan of The Apes.\n\" Mom's voice was a barely audible croak.\n\n\n \"Who's the author?\"\n\n\n \"Edgar Rice Burroughs.\"\n\n\n \"And this one?\"\n\n\n \"\nThe Wizard of Oz.\n\"\n\n\n \"Who wrote it?\"\n\n\n \"L. Frank Baum.\"\n\n\n He threw the books to the floor. He stepped backward. His face was a\n mask of combined sorrow, disbelief, and rage.\n\n\n \"\nEdith.\n\" He spat the name as if it were acid on his tongue. \"Edith,\nyou can read\n!\"\nMom sucked in her sobs. Her chalk-white cheeks were still streaked with\n rivulets of tears.\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, David. I've never told anyone—not even Ronnie. I haven't\n read a book, haven't even looked at one since we were married. I've\n tried to be a good wife—\"\n\n\n \"A good wife.\" Dad sneered. His face was so ugly that Ronnie looked\n away.\n\n\n Mom continued, \"I—I learned when I was just a girl. I was young like\n Ronnie. You know how young people are—reckless, eager to do forbidden\n things.\"\n\n\n \"You lied to me,\" Dad snapped. \"For ten years you've lied to me. Why\n did you want to read, Edith?\nWhy?\n\"\n\n\n Mom was silent for a few seconds. She was breathing heavily, but no\n longer crying. A calmness entered her features, and for the first time\n tonight Ronnie saw no fear in her eyes.\n\n\n \"I wanted to read,\" she said, her voice firm and proud, \"because, as\n Ronnie said, it's fun. The video's nice, with its dancers and lovers\n and Indians and spacemen—but sometimes you want more than that.\n Sometimes you want to know how people feel deep inside and how they\n think. And there are beautiful words and beautiful thoughts, just like\n there are beautiful paintings. It isn't enough just to hear them and\n then forget them. Sometimes you want to keep the words and thoughts\n before you because in that way you feel that they belong to you.\"\n\n\n Her words echoed in the room until absorbed by the ceaseless, ticking\n clock. Mom stood straight and unashamed. Dad's gaze traveled slowly to\n Ronnie, to Mom, to the clock, back and forth.\n\n\n At last he said, \"Get out.\"\n\n\n Mom stared blankly.\n\n\n \"Get out. Both of you. You can send for your things later. I never want\n to see either of you again.\"\n\n\n \"David—\"\n\n\n \"I said\nget out\n!\"\n\n\n Ronnie and Mom left the house. Outside, the night was dark and a wind\n was rising. Mom shivered in her thin house cloak.\n\n\n \"Where will we go, Ronnie? Where, where—\"\n\n\n \"I know a place. Maybe we can stay there—for a little while.\"\n\n\n \"A little while?\" Mom echoed. Her mind seemed frozen by the cold wind.\n\n\n Ronnie led her through the cold, windy streets. They left the lights of\n the town behind them. They stumbled over a rough, dirt country road.\n They came to a small, rough-boarded house in the deep shadow of an\n eucalyptus grove. The windows of the house were like friendly eyes of\n warm golden light.\n\n\n An instant later a door opened and a small boy ran out to meet them.\n\n\n \"Hi, Kenny.\"\n\n\n \"Hi. Who's that? Your mom?\"\n\n\n \"Yep. Mr. Davis in?\"\n\n\n \"Sure.\"\n\n\n And a kindly-faced, bearded young man appeared in the golden doorway,\n smiling.\n\n\n Ronnie and Mom stepped inside.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Ronnie hoping that something bad would happen to his father?", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_1", "options": ["So that his father would not hit Ronnie's mother anymore", "So that his father would not find out that Ronnie was secretly reading", "So that him and his mother could return to reading books with one another", "So that Mr. Davis could move into Ronnie's house"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Mom upset and disheveled when Dad came home?", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_2", "options": ["She had to tell Dad about Ronnie's mis-behaviour", "She was worried Dad might hit her again", "She had been working at the corporation all day", "She had not finished making dinner for Dad "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How had Ronnie learned to read?", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_3", "options": ["At school from his teacher", "From his friends' father", "From his mother", "He taught himself"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why would it be needed to memory-wash Ronnie?", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_4", "options": ["So that he would learn how to read faster", "So that he would forget how to read", "So that he could continue going to school", "So that he would forget his Dad hitting his Mom"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is it bad to be considered a Reader?", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_5", "options": ["Readers were punished by death", "Other people were jealous of Readers", "You could not get a job as a Reader", "Reading was considered outdated and barbaric"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Under what circumstances were people allowed to read? ", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_6", "options": ["If they were wealthy enough", "When they reached an old enough age", "Reading religious material was permitted", "If they were employed by the government"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is it likely that reading was outlawed?", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_7", "options": ["To save paper for environmental purposes ", "To make the population have a lower intelligence", "To control what content the population was able to consume", "So that readers could retain their power"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What made father realize he couldn't memory-wash Ronnie?", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_8", "options": ["Others would notice and it would hurt Dad's reputation", "Ronnie would just learn to read again", "The technology wouldn't work on someone so young", "Ronnie had already ingrained reading in his memory permanently "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Dad realize that Mom could read?", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_9", "options": ["Mom was able to read the titles and authors of the books", "She was fired from her job for reading", "Dad caught Mom reading in secret", "Mom told him that she could read"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Ronnie and Mom go to the Davis house after being kicked out?", "question_unique_id": "59368_LBNEJQ7W_10", "options": ["They needed to hide from the authorities", "They new that they would be able to read at the Davis house", "Mr. Davis had offered Ronnie a place to stay whenever", "Mr. Davis and his son had been evicted and the house was empty"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], 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{"article_id": "59679", "set_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Rumble and the Roar", "year": 1958, "author": "Bartholomew, Stephen", "topic": "PS; Silence -- Fiction; Short stories; Inventions -- Fiction; Psychological fiction; Noise -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "THE RUMBLE AND THE ROAR\nBY STEPHEN BARTHOLOMEW\nThe noise was too much for him.\n \nHe wanted quiet—at any price.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, February 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWhen Joseph got to the office his ears were aching from the noise of\n the copter and from his earplugs. Lately, every little thing seemed to\n make him irritable. He supposed it was because his drafting department\n was behind schedule on the latest Defense contract. His ears were sore\n and his stomach writhed with dyspepsia, and his feet hurt.\n\n\n Walking through the clerical office usually made him feel better. The\n constant clatter of typewriters and office machines gave him a sense\n of efficiency, of stability, an all-is-well-with-the-world feeling. He\n waved to a few of the more familiar employees and smiled, but of course\n you couldn't say hello with the continual racket.\n\n\n This morning, somehow, it didn't make him feel better. He supposed it\n was because of the song they were playing over the speakers, \"Slam Bang\n Boom,\" the latest Top Hit. He hated that song.\n\n\n Of course the National Mental Health people said constant music had a\n beneficial effect on office workers, so Joseph was no one to object,\n even though he did wonder if anyone could ever actually listen to it\n over the other noise.\n\n\n In his own office the steady din was hardly diminished despite\n soundproofing, and since he was next to an outside wall he was\n subjected also to the noises of the city. He stood staring out of the\n huge window for awhile, watching the cars on the freeway and listening\n to the homogeneous rumble and scream of turbines.\nSomething's wrong with me\n, he thought.\nI shouldn't be feeling this\n way. Nerves. Nerves.\nHe turned around and got his private secretary on the viewer. She\n simpered at him, trying to be friendly with her dull, sunken eyes.\n\n\n \"Betty,\" he told her, \"I want you to make an appointment with my\n therapist for me this afternoon. Tell him it's just a case of nerves,\n though.\"\n\n\n \"Yes sir. Anything else?\" Her voice, like every one's, was a high\n pitched screech trying to be heard above the noise.\n\n\n Joseph winced. \"Anybody want to see me this morning?\"\n\n\n \"Well, Mr. Wills says he has the first model of his invention ready to\n show you.\"\n\n\n \"Let him in whenever he's ready. Otherwise, if nothing important comes\n up, I want you to leave me alone.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir, certainly.\" She smiled again, a mechanical, automatic smile\n that seemed to want to be something more.\n\n\n Joseph switched off.\nThat was a damn funny way of saying it\n, he thought.\n\"I want you to\n leave me alone.\" As if somebody were after me.\nHe spent about an hour on routine paperwork and then Bob Wills showed\n up so Joseph switched off his dictograph and let him in.\n\n\n \"I'm afraid you'll have to make it brief, Bob,\" he grinned. \"I've a\n whale of a lot of work to do, and I seem to be developing a splitting\n headache. Nerves, you know.\"\n\n\n \"Sure, Mister Partch. I won't take a minute; I just thought you'd like\n to have a look at the first model of our widget and get clued in on our\n progress so far....\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, just go ahead. How does the thing work?\"\n\n\n Bob smiled and set the grey steel chassis on Partch's desk, sat down in\n front of it, and began tracing the wiring for Joseph.\n\n\n It was an interesting problem, or at any rate should have been. It\n was one that had been harassing cities, industry, and particularly\n air-fields, for many years. Of course, every one wore earplugs—and\n that helped a little. And some firms had partially solved the problem\n by using personnel that were totally deaf, because such persons\n were the only ones who could stand the terrific noise levels that a\n technological civilization forced everyone to endure. The noise from\n a commercial rocket motor on the ground had been known to drive men\n mad, and sometimes kill them. There had never seemed to be any wholly\n satisfactory solution.\n\n\n But now Bob Wills apparently had the beginnings of a real answer. A\n device that would use the principle of interference to cancel out sound\n waves, leaving behind only heat.\n\n\n It should have been fascinating to Partch, but somehow he couldn't make\n himself get interested in it.\n\n\n \"The really big problem is the power requirement,\" Wills was saying.\n \"We've got to use a lot of energy to cancel out big sound waves, but\n we've got several possible answers in mind and we're working on all of\n them.\"\n\n\n He caressed the crackle-finish box fondly.\n\n\n \"The basic gimmick works fine, though. Yesterday I took it down to a\n static test stand over in building 90 and had them turn on a pretty\n fair-sized steering rocket for one of the big moon-ships. Reduced the\n noise-level by about 25 per cent, it did. Of course, I still needed my\n plugs.\"\n\n\n Joseph nodded approvingly and stared vacantly into the maze of\n transistors and tubes.\n\n\n \"I've built it to work on ordinary 60 cycle house current,\" Wills told\n him. \"In case you should want to demonstrate it to anybody.\"\n\n\n Partch became brusque. He liked Bob, but he had work to do.\n\n\n \"Yes, I probably shall, Bob. I tell you what, why don't you just leave\n it here in my office and I'll look it over later, hm?\"\n\n\n \"Okay, Mr. Partch.\"\n\n\n Joseph ushered him out of the office, complimenting him profusely on\n the good work he was doing. Only after he was gone and Joseph was alone\n again behind the closed door, did he realize that he had a sudden\n yearning for company, for someone to talk to.\nPartch had Betty send him in a light lunch and he sat behind his desk\n nibbling the tasteless stuff without much enthusiasm. He wondered if he\n was getting an ulcer.\n\n\n Yes, he decided, he was going to have to have a long talk with Dr.\n Coles that afternoon. Be a pleasure to get it all off his chest, his\n feeling of melancholia, his latent sense of doom. Be good just to talk\n about it.\n\n\n Oh, everything was getting to him these days. He was in a rut, that was\n it. A rut.\n\n\n He spat a sesame seed against the far wall and the low whir of the\n automatic vacuum cleaner rose and fell briefly.\n\n\n Joseph winced. The speakers were playing \"Slam Bang Boom\" again.\n\n\n His mind turned away from the grating melody in self defense, to look\n inward on himself.\n\n\n Of what, after all, did Joseph Partch's life consist? He licked his\n fingers and thought about it.\n\n\n What would he do this evening after work, for instance?\n\n\n Why, he'd stuff his earplugs back in his inflamed ears and board the\n commuter's copter and ride for half an hour listening to the drumming\n of the rotors and the pleading of the various canned commercials played\n on the copter's speakers loud enough to be heard over the engine noise\n and through the plugs.\n\n\n And then when he got home, there would be the continuous yammer of his\n wife added to the Tri-Di set going full blast and the dull food from\n the automatic kitchen. And synthetic coffee and one stale cigaret.\n Perhaps a glass of brandy to steady his nerves if Dr. Coles approved.\n\n\n Partch brooded. The sense of foreboding had been submerged in the day's\n work, but it was still there. It was as if, any moment, a hydrogen\n bomb were going to be dropped down the chimney, and you had no way of\n knowing when.\n\n\n And what would there be to do after he had finished dinner that night?\n Why, the same things he had been doing every night for the past fifteen\n years. There would be Tri-Di first of all. The loud comedians, and the\n musical commercials, and the loud bands, and the commercials, and the\n loud songs....\n\n\n And every twenty minutes or so, the viewer would jangle with one of\n Felicia's friends calling up, and more yammering from Felicia.\n\n\n Perhaps there would be company that night, to play cards and sip drinks\n and talk and talk and talk, and never say a thing at all.\n\n\n There would be aircraft shaking the house now and then, and the cry of\n the monorail horn at intervals.\n\n\n And then, at last, it would be time to go to bed, and the murmur of the\n somnolearner orating him on the Theory of Groups all through the long\n night.\n\n\n And in the morning, he would be shocked into awareness with the clangor\n of the alarm clock and whatever disc jockey the clock radio happened to\n tune in on.\n\n\n Joseph Partch's world was made up of sounds and noises, he decided.\n Dimly, he wondered of what civilization itself would be constructed if\n all the sounds were once taken away.\nWhy\n, after all, was the world\n of Man so noisy? It was almost as if—as if everybody were making as\n much noise as they could to conceal the fact that there was something\n lacking. Or something they were afraid of.\n\n\n Like a little boy whistling loudly as he walks by a cemetery at night.\n\n\n Partch got out of his chair and stared out the window again. There was\n a fire over on the East Side, a bad one by the smoke. The fire engines\n went screaming through the streets like wounded dragons. Sirens, bells.\n Police whistles.\n\n\n All at once, Partch realized that never in his life had he experienced\n real quiet or solitude. That actually, he had no conception of what an\n absence of thunder and wailing would be like. A total absence of sound\n and noise.\n\n\n Almost, it was like trying to imagine what a negation of\nspace\nwould\n be like.\n\n\n And then he turned, and his eyes fell on Bob Wills' machine. It could\n reduce the noise level of a rocket motor by 25 per cent, Wills had\n said. Here in the office, the sound level was less than that of a\n rocket motor.\n\n\n And the machine worked on ordinary house current, Bob had said.\n\n\n Partch had an almost horrifying idea. Suppose....\n\n\n But what would Dr. Coles say about this, Partch wondered. Oh, he had to\n get a grip on himself. This was silly, childish....\n\n\n But looking down, he found that he had already plugged in the line\n cord. An almost erotic excitement began to shake Joseph's body. The\n sense of disaster had surged up anew, but he didn't recognize it yet.\n\n\n An absence of\nsound\n? No! Silly!\n\n\n Then a fire engine came tearing around the corner just below the\n window, filling the office with an ocean of noise.\n\n\n Joseph's hand jerked and flicked the switch.\n\n\n And then the dream came back to him, the nightmare of the night before\n that had precipitated, unknown to him, his mood of foreboding. It came\n back to him with stark realism and flooded him with unadorned fear.\n\n\n In the dream, he had been in a forest. Not just the city park, but a\nreal\nforest, one thousands of miles and centuries away from human\n civilization. A wood in which the foot of Man had never trod.\n\n\n It was dark there, and the trees were thick and tall. There was no\n wind, the leaves were soft underfoot. And Joseph Partch was all alone,\ncompletely\nalone.\n\n\n And it was—quiet.\n\n\n Doctor Coles looked at the patient on the white cot sadly.\n\n\n \"I've only seen a case like it once before in my entire career, Dr.\n Leeds.\"\n\n\n Leeds nodded.\n\n\n \"It\nis\nrather rare. Look at him—total catatonia. He's curled into a\n perfect foetal position. Never be the same again, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\n \"The shock must have been tremendous. An awful psychic blow, especially\n to a person as emotionally disturbed as Mr. Partch was.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, that machine of Mr. Wills' is extremely dangerous. What amazes\n me is that it didn't kill Partch altogether. Good thing we got to him\n when we did.\"\n\n\n Dr. Coles rubbed his jaw.\n\n\n \"Yes, you know it\nis\nincredible how much the human mind can sometimes\n take, actually. As you say, it's a wonder it didn't kill him.\"\n\n\n He shook his head.\n\n\n \"Perfectly horrible. How could any modern human stand it? Two hours, he\n was alone with that machine. Imagine—\ntwo hours\nof total silence!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What was really making Joseph Partch feel so irritable?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_1", "options": ["His long commute to work", "The constant noise he was exposed to ", "His wife's overly-social tendencies", "Being behind schedule at work"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the factory play the song \"Slam Bang Boom\" multiple times?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_2", "options": ["To purposefully annoy Mr. Partch", "It was Mr. Partch's favorite song", "To cover the noise from the factory", "To benefit the workers mental health"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How was Joseph Partch originally planning on addressing his negative feelings?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_3", "options": ["Having a glass of brandy", "Seeing his mental health doctor", "Running away to a secluded forest", "Socializing with friends after work"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the device that Bob Wills had invented?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_4", "options": ["Earplugs that were more comfortable when worn for extended periods of time", "A device used to reduce noise levels in loud areas", "A safer commercial rocket motor that would not harm people", "A device used to amplify extremely quiet sounds to audible levels"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did Mr. Partch need to speak with his therapist about?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_5", "options": ["He was having issues staying focused among the nosie", "He was wanting to isolate himself ", "He was having issues with anxiety", "He wasn't able to eat anymore"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Mr. Partch want to be left alone?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_6", "options": ["He was hiding from his wife", "He was preparing the new invention for the public", "He had a lot of paperwork to complete", "He was experiencing mental health issues"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What caused Mr. Partch to try out Mr. Wills' new invention?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_7", "options": ["He accidentally flipped the on switch", "Curiosity about a new experience", "Mr. Wills' enthusiasm for the invention", "His supervisors expecting him to meet a deadline"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Mr. Partch think that society involved constant noises and sounds?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_8", "options": ["It was a product of industrialization", "To distract people from their fears", "To advertise products to people as much as possible", "To drive people insane on purpose"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How was Mr. Partch transported to the forest?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_9", "options": ["On a fire engine", "He was only there mentally", "By helicopter", "He was unsure of how he arrived there"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What caused Mr. Partch to become catatonic?", "question_unique_id": "59679_R3X6H4RG_10", "options": ["A few hours without any sound", "The overwhelming noise of the jet engines", "Being lost in the forest by himself", "The pills that his therapist perscribed"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/9/6/7/59679//59679-h//59679-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "31282", "set_unique_id": "31282_V88KC9HV", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Mars Confidential", "year": 1953, "author": "Browne, Howard", "topic": "Mafia -- Fiction; Science fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from Amazing Stories April-May 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\nMARS CONFIDENTIAL!\nJack Lait & Lee Mortimer\nIllustrator\n: L. R. Summers\nHere is history's biggest news scoop! Those intrepid\n reporters Jack Lait and Lee Mortimer, whose best-selling\n exposes of life's seamy side from New York to Medicine Hat\n have made them famous, here strip away the veil of millions\n of miles to bring you the lowdown on our sister planet. It\n is an amazing account of vice and violence, of virtues and\n victims, told in vivid, jet-speed style.\nHere you'll learn why Mars is called the Red Planet, the\n part the Mafia plays in her undoing, the rape and rapine\n that has made this heavenly body the cesspool of the\n Universe. In other words, this is Mars—Confidential!\nP-s-s-s-s-t!\n\n\n HERE WE GO AGAIN—Confidential.\n\n\n We turned New York inside out. We turned Chicago upside down. In\n Washington we turned the insiders out and the outsiders in. The howls\n can still be heard since we dissected the U.S.A.\n\n\n But Mars was our toughest task of spectroscoping. The cab drivers\n spoke a different language and the bell-hops couldn't read our\n currency. Yet, we think we have X-rayed the dizziest—and this may\n amaze you—the dirtiest planet in the solar system. Beside it, the\n Earth is as white as the Moon, and Chicago is as peaceful as the Milky\n Way.\n\n\n By the time we went through Mars—its canals, its caves, its\n satellites and its catacombs—we knew more about it than anyone who\n lives there.\n\n\n We make no attempt to be comprehensive. We have no hope or aim to make\n Mars a better place in which to live; in fact, we don't give a damn\n what kind of a place it is to live in.\n\n\n This will be the story of a planet that could have been another proud\n and majestic sun with a solar system of its own; it ended up, instead,\n in the comic books and the pulp magazines.\n\n\n We give you MARS CONFIDENTIAL!\nI\nTHE LOWDOWN CONFIDENTIAL\nBefore the space ship which brings the arriving traveler lands at the\n Martian National Airport, it swoops gracefully over the nearby city in\n a salute. The narrow ribbons, laid out in geometric order, gradually\n grow wider until the water in these man-made rivers becomes crystal\n clear and sparkles in the reflection of the sun.\n\n\n As Mars comes closer, the visitor from Earth quickly realizes it has a\n manner and a glamor of its own; it is unworldy, it is out of this\n world. It is not the air of distinction one finds in New York or\n London or Paris. The Martian feeling is dreamlike; it comes from being\n close to the stuff dreams are made of.\n\n\n However, after the sojourner lands, he discovers that Mars is not much\n different than the planet he left; indeed, men are pretty much the\n same all over the universe, whether they carry their plumbing inside\n or outside their bodies.\n\n\n As we unfold the rates of crime, vice, sex irregularities, graft,\n cheap gambling, drunkenness, rowdyism and rackets, you will get,\n thrown on a large screen, a peep show you never saw on your TV during\n the science-fiction hour.\n\n\n Each day the Earth man spends on Mars makes him feel more at home;\n thus, it comes as no surprise to the initiated that even here, at\n least 35,000,000 miles away from Times Square, there are hoodlums who\n talk out of the sides of their mouths and drive expensive convertibles\n with white-walled tires and yellow-haired frails. For the Mafia, the\n dread Black Hand, is in business here—tied up with the\n subversives—and neither the Martian Committee for the Investigation\n of Crime and Vice, nor the Un-Martian Activities Committee, can dent\n it more than the Kefauver Committee did on Earth, which is practically\n less than nothing.\nThis is the first time this story has been printed. We were offered\n four trillion dollars in bribes to hold it up; our lives were\n threatened and we were shot at with death ray guns.\n\n\n We got this one night on the fourth bench in Central Park, where we\n met by appointment a man who phoned us earlier but refused to tell his\n name. When we took one look at him we did not ask for his credentials,\n we just knew he came from Mars.\n\n\n This is what he told us:\n\n\n Shortly after the end of World War II, a syndicate composed of\n underworld big-shots from Chicago, Detroit and Greenpoint planned to\n build a new Las Vegas in the Nevada desert. This was to be a plush\n project for big spenders, with Vegas and Reno reserved for the\n hoi-polloi.\n\n\n There was to be service by a private airline. It would be so\n ultra-ultra that suckers with only a million would be thumbed away and\n guys with two million would have to come in through the back door.\n\n\n The Mafia sent a couple of front men to explore the desert. Somewhere\n out beyond the atom project they stumbled on what seemed to be the\n answer to their prayer.\n\n\n It was a huge, mausoleum-like structure, standing alone in the desert\n hundreds of miles from nowhere, unique, exclusive and mysterious. The\n prospectors assumed it was the last remnant of some fabulous and\n long-dead ghost-mining town.\n\n\n The entire population consisted of one, a little duffer with a white\n goatee and thick lensed spectacles, wearing boots, chaps and a silk\n hat.\n\n\n \"This your place, bud?\" one of the hoods asked.\n\n\n When he signified it was, the boys bought it. The price was\n agreeable—after they pulled a wicked-looking rod.\n\n\n Then the money guys came to look over their purchase. They couldn't\n make head or tail of it, and you can hardly blame them, because inside\n the great structure they found a huge contraption that looked like a\n cigar (Havana Perfecto) standing on end.\n\n\n \"What the hell is this,\" they asked the character in the opera hat, in\n what is known as a menacing attitude.\nThe old pappy guy offered to show them. He escorted them into the\n cigar, pressed a button here and there, and before you could say \"Al\n Capone\" the roof of the shed slid back and they began to move upward\n at a terrific rate of speed.\n\n\n Three or four of the Mafia chieftains were old hop-heads and felt at\n home. In fact, one of them remarked, \"Boy, are we gone.\" And he was\n right.\n\n\n The soberer Mafistas, after recovering from their first shock, laid\n ungentle fists on their conductor. \"What goes on?\" he was asked.\n\n\n \"This is a space ship and we are headed for Mars.\"\n\n\n \"What's Mars?\"\n\n\n \"A planet up in space, loaded with gold and diamonds.\"\n\n\n \"Any bims there?\"\n\n\n \"I beg your pardon, sir. What are bims?\"\n\n\n \"Get a load of this dope. He never heard of bims. Babes, broads,\n frails, pigeons, ribs—catch on?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, I assume you mean girls. There must be, otherwise what are the\n diamonds for?\"\n\n\n The outward trip took a week, but it was spent pleasantly. During that\n time, the Miami delegation cleaned out Chicago, New York and\n Pittsburgh in a klabiash game.\n\n\n The hop back, for various reasons, took a little longer. One reason\n may have been the condition of the crew. On the return the boys from\n Brooklyn were primed to the ears with\nzorkle\n.\nZorkle\nis a Martian medicinal distillation, made from the milk of\n the\nschznoogle\n—a six-legged cow, seldom milked because few Martians\n can run fast enough to catch one.\nZorkle\nis strong enough to rip\n steel plates out of battleships, but to stomachs accustomed to the\n stuff sold in Flatbush, it acted like a gentle stimulant.\n\n\n Upon their safe landing in Nevada, the Columbuses of this first flight\n to Mars put in long-distance calls to all the other important hoods in\n the country.\n\n\n The Crime Cartel met in Cleveland—in the third floor front of a\n tenement on Mayfield Road. The purpose of the meeting was to \"cut up\"\n Mars.\n\n\n Considerable dissension arose over the bookmaking facilities, when it\n was learned that the radioactive surface of the planet made it\n unnecessary to send scratches and results by wire. On the contrary,\n the steel-shod hooves of the animals set up a current which carried\n into every pool room, without a pay-off to the wire service.\n\n\n The final division found the apportionment as follows:\nNew York mob\n: Real estate and investments (if any)\nChicago mob\n: Bookmaking and liquor (if any)\nBrooklyn mob\n: Protection and assassinations\nJersey mob\n: Numbers (if any) and craps (if any)\nLos Angeles mob\n: Girls (if any)\nGalveston and New Orleans mobs\n: Dope (if any)\nCleveland mob\n: Casinos (if any)\nDetroit mob\n: Summer resorts (if any)\n\n\n The Detroit boys, incidentally, burned up when they learned the\n Martian year is twice as long as ours, consequently it takes two years\n for one summer to roll around.\n\n\n After the summary demise of three Grand Councilors whose deaths were\n recorded by the press as occurring from \"natural causes,\" the other\n major and minor mobs were declared in as partners.\n\n\n The first problem to be ironed out was how to speed up transportation;\n and failing that, to construct spacious space ships which would\n attract pleasure-bent trade from\nTerra\n—Earth to you—with such\n innovations as roulette wheels, steam rooms, cocktail lounges, double\n rooms with hot and cold babes, and other such inducements.\nII\nTHE INSIDE STUFF CONFIDENTIAL\nRemember, you got this first from Lait and Mortimer. And we defy\n anyone to call us liars—and prove it!\n\n\n Only chumps bring babes with them to Mars. The temperature is a little\n colder there than on Earth and the air a little thinner. So Terra\n dames complain one mink coat doesn't keep them warm; they need two.\n\n\n On the other hand, the gravity is considerably less than on Earth.\n Therefore, even the heaviest bim weighs less and can be pushed over\n with the greatest of ease.\n\n\n However, the boys soon discovered that the lighter gravity played\n havoc with the marijuana trade. With a slight tensing of the muscles\n you can jump 20 feet, so why smoke \"tea\" when you can fly like crazy\n for nothing?\n\n\n Martian women are bags, so perhaps you had better disregard the\n injunction above and bring your own, even if it means two furs.\n\n\n Did you ever see an Alaska\nklutch\n(pronounced klootch)? Probably\n not. Well, these Arctic horrors are Ziegfeld beauts compared to the\n Martian fair sex.\n\n\n They slouch with knees bent and knuckles brushing the ground, and if\n Ringling Bros, is looking for a mate for Gargantua, here is where to\n find her. Yet, their manner is habitually timid, as though they've\n been given a hard time. From the look in their deep-set eyes they seem\n to fear abduction or rape; but not even the zoot-suited goons from\n Greenpernt gave them a second tumble.\n\n\n The visiting Mafia delegation was naturally disappointed at this state\n of affairs. They had been led to believe by the little guy who\n escorted them that all Martian dames resembled Marilyn Monroe, only\n more so, and the men were Adonises (and not Joe).\n\n\n Seems they once were, at that. This was a couple of aeons ago when\n Earthmen looked like Martians do now, which seems to indicate that\n Martians, as well as Men, have their ups and downs.\n\n\n The citizens of the planet are apparently about halfway down the\n toboggan. They wear clothes, but they're not handstitched. Their\n neckties don't come from Sulka. No self-respecting goon from Gowanus\n would care to be seen in their company.\n\n\n The females always appear in public fully clothed, which doesn't help\n them either. But covering their faces would. They buy their dresses at\n a place called Kress-Worth and look like Paris\nnouveau riche\n.\n\n\n There are four separate nations there, though nation is hardly the\n word. It is more accurate to say there are four separate clans that\n don't like each other, though how they can tell the difference is\n beyond us. They are known as the East Side, West Side, North Side and\n Gas House gangs.\n\n\n Each stays in its own back-yard. Periodic wars are fought, a few\n thousand of the enemy are dissolved with ray guns, after which the\n factions retire by common consent and throw a banquet at which the\n losing country is forced to take the wives of the visitors, which is a\n twist not yet thought of on Earth.\n\n\n Martian language is unlike anything ever heard below. It would baffle\n the keenest linguist, if the keenest linguist ever gets to Mars.\n However, the Mafia, which is a world-wide blood brotherhood with\n colonies in every land and clime, has a universal language. Knives and\n brass knucks are understood everywhere.\n\n\n The Martian lingo seems to be somewhat similar to Chinese. It's not\n what they say, but how they say it. For instance,\npsonqule\nmay mean\n \"I love you\" or \"you dirty son-of-a-bitch.\"\n\n\n The Mafistas soon learned to translate what the natives were saying by\n watching the squint in their eyes. When they spoke with a certain\n expression, the mobsters let go with 45s, which, however, merely have\n a stunning effect on the gent on the receiving end because of the\n lesser gravity.\n\n\n On the other hand, the Martian death ray guns were not fatal to the\n toughs from Earth; anyone who can live through St. Valentine's Day in\n Chicago can live through anything. So it came out a dead heat.\n\n\n Thereupon the boys from the Syndicate sat down and declared the\n Martians in for a fifty-fifty partnership, which means they actually\n gave them one per cent, which is generous at that.\n\n\n Never having had the great advantages of a New Deal, the Martians are\n still backward and use gold as a means of exchange. With no Harvard\n bigdomes to tell them gold is a thing of the past, the yellow metal\n circulates there as freely and easily as we once kicked pennies around\n before they became extinct here.\n\n\n The Mafistas quickly set the Martians right about the futility of\n gold. They eagerly turned it over to the Earthmen in exchange for\n green certificates with pretty pictures engraved thereon.\nIII\nRACKETS VIA ROCKETS\nGold, platinum, diamonds and other precious stuff are as plentiful on\n Mars as hayfever is on Earth in August.\n\n\n When the gangsters lamped the loot, their greedy eyes and greasy\n fingers twitched, and when a hood's eyes and fingers twitch, watch\n out; something is twitching.\n\n\n The locals were completely honest. They were too dumb to be thieves.\n The natives were not acquisitive. Why should they be when gold was so\n common it had no value, and a neighbor's wife so ugly no one would\n covet her?\n\n\n This was a desperate situation, indeed, until one of the boys from\n East St. Louis uttered the eternal truth: \"There ain't no honest man\n who ain't a crook, and why should Mars be any different?\"\n\n\n The difficulty was finding the means and method of corruption. All the\n cash in Jake Guzik's strong box meant nothing to a race of characters\n whose brats made mudpies of gold dust.\n\n\n The discovery came as an accident.\n\n\n The first Earthman to be eliminated on Mars was a two-bit hood from\n North Clark Street who sold a five-cent Hershey bar with almonds to a\n Martian for a gold piece worth 94 bucks.\n\n\n The man from Mars bit the candy bar. The hood bit the gold piece.\n\n\n Then the Martian picked up a rock and beaned the lad from the Windy\n City. After which the Martian's eyes dilated and he let out a scream.\n Then he attacked the first Martian female who passed by. Never before\n had such a thing happened on Mars, and to say she was surprised is\n putting it lightly. Thereupon, half the female population ran after\n the berserk Martian.\n\n\n When the organization heard about this, an investigation was ordered.\n That is how the crime trust found out that there is no sugar on Mars;\n that this was the first time it had ever been tasted by a Martian;\n that it acts on them like junk does on an Earthman.\n\n\n They further discovered that the chief source of Martian diet\n is—believe it or not—poppy seed, hemp and coca leaf, and that the\n alkaloids thereof: opium, hasheesh and cocaine have not the slightest\n visible effect on them.\n\n\n Poppies grow everywhere, huge russet poppies, ten times as large as\n those on Earth and 100 times as deadly. It is these poppies which have\n colored the planet red. Martians are strictly vegetarian: they bake,\n fry and stew these flowers and weeds and eat them raw with a goo made\n from fungus and called\nszchmortz\nwhich passes for a salad dressing.\n\n\n Though the Martians were absolutely impervious to the narcotic\n qualities of the aforementioned flora, they got higher than Mars on\n small doses of sugar.\n\n\n So the Mafia was in business. The Martians sniffed granulated sugar,\n which they called snow. They ate cube sugar, which they called \"hard\n stuff\", and they injected molasses syrup into their veins with hypos\n and called this \"mainliners.\"\n\n\n There was nothing they would not do for a pinch of sugar. Gold,\n platinum and diamonds, narcotics by the acre—these were to be had in\n generous exchange for sugar—which was selling on Earth at a nickel or\n so a pound wholesale.\n\n\n The space ship went into shuttle service. A load of diamonds and dope\n coming back, a load of sugar and blondes going up. Blondes made\n Martians higher even than sugar, and brought larger and quicker\n returns.\n\n\n This is a confidential tip to the South African diamond trust: ten\n space ship loads of precious stones are now being cut in a cellar on\n Bleecker Street in New York. The mob plans to retail them for $25 a\n carat!\n\n\n Though the gangsters are buying sugar at a few cents a pound here and\n selling it for its weight in rubies on Mars, a hood is always a hood.\n They've been cutting dope with sugar for years on Earth, so they\n didn't know how to do it any different on Mars. What to cut the sugar\n with on Mars? Simple. With heroin, of course, which is worthless\n there.\n\n\n This is a brief rundown on the racket situation as it currently exists\n on our sister planet.\nFAKED PASSPORTS\n: When the boys first landed they found only vague\n boundaries between the nations, and Martians could roam as they\n pleased. Maybe this is why they stayed close to home. Though anyway\n why should they travel? There was nothing to see.\n\n\n The boys quickly took care of this. First, in order to make travel\n alluring, they brought 20 strippers from Calumet City and set them\n peeling just beyond the border lines.\n\n\n Then they went to the chieftains and sold them a bill of goods (with a\n generous bribe of sugar) to close the borders. The next step was to\n corrupt the border guards, which was easy with Annie Oakleys to do\n the burlesque shows.\n\n\n The selling price for faked passports fluctuates between a ton and\n three tons of platinum.\nVICE\n: Until the arrival of the Earthmen, there were no illicit\n sexual relations on the planet. In fact, no Martian in his right mind\n would have relations with the native crop of females, and they in turn\n felt the same way about the males. Laws had to be passed requiring all\n able-bodied citizens to marry and propagate.\n\n\n Thus, the first load of bims from South Akard Street in Dallas found\n eager customers. But these babes, who romanced anything in pants on\n earth, went on a stand-up strike when they saw and smelled the\n Martians. Especially smelled. They smelled worse than Texas yahoos\n just off a cow farm.\n\n\n This proved embarrassing, to say the least, to the procurers.\n Considerable sums of money were invested in this human cargo, and the\n boys feared dire consequences from their shylocks, should they return\n empty-handed.\n\n\n In our other Confidential essays we told you how the Mafia employs\n some of the best brains on Earth to direct and manage its far-flung\n properties, including high-priced attorneys, accountants, real-estate\n experts, engineers and scientists.\n\n\n A hurried meeting of the Grand Council was called and held in a\n bungalow on the shores of one of Minneapolis' beautiful lakes. The\n decision reached there was to corner chlorophyll (which accounts in\n part for the delay in putting it on the market down here) and ship it\n to Mars to deodorize the populace there. After which the ladies of the\n evening got off their feet and went back to work.\nGAMBLING\n: Until the arrival of the Mafia, gambling on Mars was\n confined to a simple game played with children's jacks. The loser had\n to relieve the winner of his wife.\n\n\n The Mafia brought up some fine gambling equipment, including the\n layouts from the Colonial Inn in Florida, and the Beverly in New\n Orleans, both of which were closed, and taught the residents how to\n shoot craps and play the wheel, with the house putting up sugar\n against precious stones and metals. With such odds, it was not\n necessary to fake the games more than is customary on Earth.\nIV\nLITTLE NEW YORK CONFIDENTIAL\nDespite what Earth-bound professors tell you about the Martian\n atmosphere, we know better. They weren't there.\n\n\n It is a dogma that Mars has no oxygen. Baloney. While it is true that\n there is considerably less than on Earth in the surface atmosphere,\n the air underground, in caves, valleys and tunnels, has plenty to\n support life lavishly, though why Martians want to live after they\n look at each other we cannot tell you, even confidential.\n\n\n For this reason Martian cities are built underground, and travel\n between them is carried on through a complicated system of subways\n predating the New York IRT line by several thousand centuries, though\n to the naked eye there is little difference between a Brooklyn express\n and a Mars express, yet the latter were built before the Pyramids.\n\n\n When the first load of Black Handers arrived, they naturally balked\n against living underground. It reminded them too much of the days\n before they went \"legitimate\" and were constantly on the lam and\n hiding out.\n\n\n So the Mafia put the Martians to work building a town. There are no\n building materials on the planet, but the Martians are adept at making\n gold dust hold together with diamond rivets. The result of their\n effort—for which they were paid in peppermint sticks and lump\n sugar—is named Little New York, with hotels, nightclubs, bars,\n haberdashers, Turkish baths and horse rooms. Instead of\n air-conditioning, it had oxygen-conditioning. But the town had no\n police station.\n\n\n There were no cops!\n\n\n Finally, a meeting was held at which one punk asked another, \"What the\n hell kind of town is it with no cops? Who we going to bribe?\"\n\n\n After some discussion they cut cards. One of the Bergen County boys\n drew the black ace. \"What do I know about being a cop?\" he squawked.\n\n\n \"You can take graft, can't you? You been shook down, ain't you?\"\nThe boys also imported a couple of smart mouthpieces and a ship of\n blank habeas corpus forms, together with a judge who was the brother\n of one of the lawyers, so there was no need to build a jail in this\n model city.\n\n\n The only ones who ever get arrested, anyway, are the Martians, and\n they soon discovered that the coppers from\nTerra\nwould look the\n other way for a bucket full of gold.\n\n\n Until the arrival of the Earthmen, the Martians were, as stated,\n peaceful, and even now crime is practically unknown among them. The\n chief problem, however, is to keep them in line on pay nights, when\n they go on sugar binges.\n\n\n Chocolate bars are as common on Mars as saloons are on Broadway, and\n it is not unusual to see \"gone\" Martians getting heaved out of these\n bars right into the gutter. One nostalgic hood from Seattle said it\n reminded him of Skid Row there.\nV\nTHE RED RED PLANET\nThe gangsters had not been on Mars long before they heard rumors about\n other outsiders who were supposed to have landed on the other side of\nMt. Sirehum\n.\n\n\n The boys got together in a cocktail lounge to talk this over, and they\n decided they weren't going to stand for any other mobs muscling in.\n\n\n Thereupon, they despatched four torpedoes with Tommy guns in a big\n black limousine to see what was going.\n\n\n We tell you this Confidential. What they found was a Communist\n apparatus sent to Mars from Soviet Russia.\n\n\n This cell was so active that Commies had taken over almost half the\n planet before the arrival of the Mafia, with their domain extending\n from the\nDeucalionis Region\nall the way over to\nPhaethontis\nand\n down to\nTitania\n.\n\n\n Furthermore, through propaganda and infiltration, there were Communist\n cells in every quarter of the planet, and many of the top officials of\n the four Martian governments were either secretly party members or\n openly in fronts.\n\n\n The Communist battle cry was: \"Men of Mars unite; you have nothing to\n lose but your wives.\"\n\n\n Comes the revolution, they were told, and all Martians could remain\n bachelors. It is no wonder the Communists made such inroads. The\n planet became known as \"The Red Red Planet.\"\n\n\n In their confidential books about the cities of Earth, Lait and\n Mortimer explored the community of interest between the organized\n underworld and the Soviet.\n\n\n Communists are in favor of anything that causes civil disorder and\n unrest; gangsters have no conscience and will do business with anyone\n who pays.\n\n\n On Earth, Russia floods the Western powers, and especially the United\n States, with narcotics, first to weaken them and provide easy prey,\n and second, for dollar exchange.\n\n\n And on Earth, the Mafia, which is another international conspiracy\n like the Communists, sells the narcotics.\n\n\n And so when the gangsters heard there were Communist cells on Mars,\n they quickly made a contact.\n\n\n For most of the world's cheap sugar comes from Russia! The Mafia\n inroad on the American sugar market had already driven cane up more\n than 300 per cent. But the Russians were anxious, able and willing to\n provide all the beets they wanted at half the competitive price.\nVI\nTHE HONEST HOODS\nAs we pointed out in previous works, the crime syndicate now owns so\n much money, its chief problem is to find ways in which to invest it.\n\n\n As a result, the Mafia and its allies control thousands of legitimate\n enterprises ranging from hotel chains to railroads and from laundries\n to distilleries.\n\n\n And so it was on Mars. With all the rackets cornered, the gangsters\n decided it was time to go into some straight businesses.\n\n\n At the next get-together of the Grand Council, the following\n conversation was heard:\n\n\n \"What do these mopes need that they ain't getting?\"\n\n\n \"A big fat hole in the head.\"\n\n\n \"Cut it out. This is serious.\"\n\n\n \"A hole in the head ain't serious?\"\n\n\n \"There's no profit in them one-shot deals.\"\n\n\n \"It's the repeat business you make the dough on.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe you got something there. You can kill a jerk only once.\"\n\n\n \"But a jerk can have relatives.\"\n\n\n \"We're talking about legit stuff. All the rest has been taken care\n of.\"\n\n\n \"With the Martians I've seen, a bar of soap could be a big thing.\"\n\n\n From this random suggestion, there sprang up a major interplanetary\n project. If the big soap companies are wondering where all that soap\n went a few years ago, we can tell them.\n\n\n It went to Mars.\n\n\n Soap caught on immediately. It was snapped up as fast as it arrived.\n\n\n But several questions popped into the minds of the Mafia soap\n salesman.\n\n\n Where was it all going? A Martian, in line for a bar in the evening,\n was back again the following morning for another one.\n\n\n And why did the Martians stay just as dirty as ever?\n\n\n The answer was, the Martians stayed as dirty as ever because they\n weren't using the soap to wash with. They were eating it!\n\n\n It cured the hangover from sugar.\n\n\n Another group cornered the undertaking business, adding a twist that\n made for more activity. They added a Department of Elimination. The\n men in charge of this end of the business circulate through the\n chocolate and soap bars, politely inquiring, \"Who would you like\n killed?\"\n\n\n Struck with the novelty of the thing, quite a few Martians remember\n other Martians they are mad at. The going price is one hundred carats\n of diamonds to kill; which is cheap considering the average laborer\n earns 10,000 carats a week.\n\n\n Then the boys from the more dignified end of the business drop in at\n the home of the victim and offer to bury him cheap. Two hundred and\n fifty carats gets a Martian planted in style.\n\n\n Inasmuch as Martians live underground, burying is done in reverse, by\n tying a rocket to the tail of the deceased and shooting him out into\n the stratosphere.\nVII\nONE UNIVERSE CONFIDENTIAL\nMars is presently no problem to Earth, and will not be until we have\n all its gold and the Martians begin asking us for loans.\n\n\n Meanwhile, Lait and Mortimer say let the gangsters and communists have\n it. We don't want it.\n\n\n We believe Earth would weaken itself if it dissipated its assets on\n foreign planets. Instead, we should heavily arm our own satellites,\n which will make us secure from attack by an alien planet or\n constellation.\n\n\n At the same time, we should build an overwhelming force of space ships\n capable of delivering lethal blows to the outermost corners of the\n universe and return without refueling.\n\n\n We have seen the futility of meddling in everyone's business on Earth.\n Let's not make that mistake in space. We are unalterably opposed to\n the UP (United Planets) and call upon the governments of Earth not to\n join that Inter-Solar System boondoggle.\n\n\n We have enough trouble right here.\nTHE APPENDIX CONFIDENTIAL:\nBlast-off\n: The equivalent of the take-off of Terran\n aviation. Space ships blast-off into space. Not to be\n confused with the report of a sawed-off shot gun.\nBlasting pit\n: Place from which a space ship blasts off.\n Guarded area where the intense heat from the jets melts the\n ground. Also used for cock-fights.\nSpacemen\n: Those who man the space ships. See any comic\n strip.\nHairoscope\n: A very sensitive instrument for space\n navigation. The sighting plate thereon is centered around\n two crossed hairs. Because of the vastness of space, very\n fine hairs are used. These hairs are obtained from the\n Glomph-Frog, found only in the heart of the dense Venusian\n swamps. The hairoscope is a must in space navigation. Then\n how did they get to Venus to get the hair from the\n Glomph-Frog? Read Venus Confidential.\nMultiplanetary agitation\n: The inter-spacial methods by\n which the Russians compete for the minds of the Neptunians\n and the Plutonians and the Gowaniuns.\nSpace suit\n: The clothing worn by those who go into space.\n The men are put into modernistic diving suits. The dames\n wear bras and panties.\nGrav-plates\n: A form of magnetic shoe worn by spacemen\n while standing on the outer hull of a space ship halfway to\n Mars. Why a spaceman wants to stand on the outer hull of a\n ship halfway to Mars is not clear. Possibly to win a bet.\nSpace platform\n: A man-made satellite rotating around Earth\n between here and the Moon. Scientists say this is a\n necessary first step to interplanetary travel. Mars\n Confidential proves the fallacy of this theory.\nSpace Academy\n: A college where young men are trained to be\n spacemen. The student body consists mainly of cadets who\n served apprenticeships as elevator jockeys.\nAsteroids\n: Tiny worlds floating around in space, put there\n no doubt to annoy unwary space ships.\nExtrapolation\n: The process by which a science-fiction\n writer takes an established scientific fact and builds\n thereon a story that couldn't happen in a million years, but\n maybe 2,000,000.\nScience fiction\n: A genre of escape literature which takes\n the reader to far-away planets—and usually neglects to\n bring him back.\nS.F.\n: An abbreviation for science fiction.\nBem\n: A word derived by using the first letters of the\n three words: Bug Eyed Monster. Bems are ghastly looking\n creatures in general. In science-fiction yarns written by\n Terrans, bems are natives of Mars. In science-fiction yarns\n written by Martians, bems are natives of Terra.\nThe pile\n: The source from which power is derived to carry\n men to the stars. Optional on the more expensive space\n ships, at extra cost.\nAtom blaster\n: A gun carried by spacemen which will melt\n people down to a cinder. A .45 would do just as well, but\n then there's the Sullivan Act.\nOrbit\n: The path of any heavenly body. The bodies are held\n in these orbits by natural laws the Republicans are thinking\n of repealing.\nNova\n: The explosive stage into which planets may pass.\n According to the finest scientific thinking, a planet will\n either nova, or it won't.\nGalaxy\n: A term used to confuse people who have always\n called it The Milky Way.\nSun spots\n: Vast electrical storms on the sun which\n interfere with radio reception, said interference being\n advantageous during political campaigns.\nAtomic cannons\n: Things that go\nzap\n.\nAudio screen\n: Television without Milton Berle or\n wrestling.\nDisintegrating ray\n: Something you can't see that turns\n something you can see into something you can't see.\nGeiger counter\n: Something used to count Geigers.\nInterstellar space\n: Too much nothing at all, filled with\n rockets, flying saucers, advanced civilizations, and\n discarded copies of\nAmazing Stories\n.\nMars\n: A candy bar.\nPluto\n: A kind of water.\nRay guns\n: Small things that go\nzap\n.\nTime machine\n: A machine that carries you back to yesterday\n and into next year. Also, an alarm clock.\nTime warp\n: The hole in time the time machine goes through\n to reach another time. A hole in nothing.\nTerra\n: Another name for Earth. It comes from\nterra\nfirma\n or something like that.\nHyperdrive\n: The motor that is used to drive a space ship\n faster than the speed of light. Invented by science-fiction\n writers but not yet patented.\nEther\n: The upper reaches of space and whatever fills them.\n Also, an anaesthetic.\nLuna\n: Another name for the Moon. Formerly a park in Coney\n Island.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How are the Martians different from Earth humans?", "question_unique_id": "31282_V88KC9HV_1", "options": ["They are much dirtier", "They value material possessions more", "All of the other answers are correct", "They are more physically attractive"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the Mafia come to be in business on Mars?", "question_unique_id": "31282_V88KC9HV_2", "options": ["By making a deal with Russia", "By infiltrating the government", "By accidentally finding a spaceship", "By bribing a spaceship company"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why were narcotics of no value on Mars?", "question_unique_id": "31282_V88KC9HV_3", "options": ["Martian society's strict moral code forbade narcotics", "Martians were naturally immune to the effects of narcotics", "Martians did not understand how to consume the narcotics", "Martians did not like the effects of narcotics"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the Mafia strike a partnership deal with the Martians?", "question_unique_id": "31282_V88KC9HV_4", "options": ["Out of fear that the Martians would start a conflict", "Out of pity for the Martians", "Neither party could harm one another", "To make travel to and from Mars more convenient"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was discovered to be the way to corrupt the Martians?", "question_unique_id": "31282_V88KC9HV_5", "options": ["Sweet, sugary foods", "Earth women", "Brute force", "Gold, diamonds, and platinum"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the Mafia grow the business of prostitution on Mars?", "question_unique_id": "31282_V88KC9HV_6", "options": ["By legalizing illicit sexual relations", "By legalizing narcotics on Mars", "By reducing the prices", "By cleaning up the Martian population"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did crime rise on Mars after the Mafia's arrival?", "question_unique_id": "31282_V88KC9HV_7", "options": ["The legalization of prostitution", "The corruption in law enforcement", "The results of sugar over-consumption on payday ", "The increased use of narcotics"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the Mafia react to the Russians' presence on Mars?", "question_unique_id": "31282_V88KC9HV_8", "options": ["They launched an attack ", "They struck an agreement", "They decided to hide their presence for the time being ", "They started to spread anti-communist propaganda"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/1/2/8/31282//31282-h//31282-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "60897", "set_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Non-Electronic Bug", "year": 1968, "author": "Mittleman, E.", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; Parapsychology -- Fiction; Telepathy -- Fiction; PS; Cardsharping -- Fiction; Gambling -- Fiction", "article": "THE NON-ELECTRONIC BUG\nBy E. MITTLEMAN\nThere couldn't be a better\n \ntip-off system than mine—it\n \nwasn't possible—but he had one!\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, July 1960.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nI wouldn't take five cents off a legitimate man, but if they want to\n gamble that's another story.\n\n\n What I am is a genius, and I give you a piece of advice: Do not ever\n play cards with a stranger. The stranger might be me. Where there are\n degenerate card players around, I sometimes get a call. Not dice—I\n don't have a machine to handle them. But with cards I have a machine to\n force the advantage.\n\n\n The first thing is a little radio receiver, about the size of a pack\n of cigarettes. You don't hear any music. You feel it on your skin. The\n next thing is two dimes. You stick them onto you, anywhere you like.\n Some like to put them on their legs, some on their belly. Makes no\n difference, just so they're out of sight. Each dime has a wire soldered\n to it, and the wires are attached to the little receiver that goes in\n your pocket.\n\n\n The other thing is the transmitter I carry around.\n\n\n My partner was a fellow named Henry. He had an electronic surplus\n hardware business, but business wasn't good and he was looking for\n a little extra cash on the side. It turns out that the other little\n wholesalers in the loft building where he has his business are all\n card players, and no pikers, either. So Henry spread the word that\n he was available for a gin game—any time at all, but he would only\n play in his own place—he was expecting an important phone call and he\n didn't want to be away and maybe miss it.... It never came; but the\n card players did.\n\n\n I was supposed to be his stock clerk. While Henry and the other fellow\n were working on the cards at one end of the room, I would be moving\n around the other—checking the stock, packing the stuff for shipment,\n arranging it on the shelves, sweeping the floor. I was a regular model\n worker, busy every second. I had to be. In order to see the man's\n hand I had to be nearby, but I had to keep moving so he wouldn't pay\n attention to me.\n\n\n And every time I got a look at his hand, I pushed the little button on\n the transmitter in my pocket.\n\n\n Every push on the button was a shock on Henry's leg. One for spades,\n two for hearts, three for diamonds, four for clubs.\n\n\n Then I would tip the card: a short shock for an ace, two for a king,\n three for a queen, and so on down to the ten. A long and a short\n for nine, a long and two shorts for an eight ... it took a little\n memorizing, but it was worth it. Henry knew every card the other man\n held every time. And I got fifty per cent.\nWe didn't annihilate the fish. They hardly felt they were being hurt,\n but we got a steady advantage, day after day. We did so well we took on\n another man—I can take physical labor or leave it alone, and I leave\n it alone every chance I get.\n\n\n That was where we first felt the trouble.\n\n\n Our new boy was around twenty. He had a swept-wing haircut, complete\n with tail fins. Also he had a silly laugh. Now, there are jokes in a\n card game—somebody taking a beating will sound off, to take away some\n of the sting, but nobody laughs because the cracks are never funny. But\n they were to our new boy.\n\n\n He laughed.\n\n\n He laughed not only when the mark made some crack, but a lot of the\n time when he didn't. It got so the customers were looking at him with a\n lot of dislike, and that was bad for business.\n\n\n So I called him out into the hall. \"Skippy,\" I said—that's what we\n called him, \"lay off.\nNever\nrub it in to a sucker. It's enough to\n take his money.\"\n\n\n He ran his fingers back along his hair. \"Can't a fellow express\n himself?\"\n\n\n I gave him a long, hard unhealthy look.\nExpress\nhimself? He wouldn't\n have to. I'd express him myself—express him right out of our setup.\n\n\n But before I got a chance, this fellow from Chicago came in, a big\n manufacturer named Chapo; a wheel, and he looked it. He was red-faced,\n with hanging jowls and a big dollar cigar; he announced that he only\n played for big stakes ... and, nodding toward the kid and me, that he\n didn't like an audience.\n\n\n Henry looked at us miserably. But what was he going to do? If he didn't\n go along, the word could spread that maybe there was something wrong\n going on. He had to play. \"Take the day off, you two,\" he said, but he\n wasn't happy.\n\n\n I thought fast.\n\n\n There was still one chance. I got behind Chapo long enough to give\n Henry a wink and a nod toward the window. Then I took Skippy by the\n elbow and steered him out of there.\n\n\n Down in the street I said, fast: \"You want to earn your pay? You have\n to give me a hand—an eye is really what I mean. Don't argue—just say\n yes or no.\"\n\n\n He didn't stop to think. \"Sure,\" he said. \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"All right.\" I took him down the street to where they had genuine\n imported Japanese field glasses and laid out twenty bucks for a pair.\n The man was a thief, but I didn't have time to argue. Right across the\n street from Henry's place was a rundown hotel. That was our next stop.\n\n\n The desk man in the scratch house looked up from his comic book. \"A\n room,\" I said. \"Me and my nephew want a room facing the street.\" And I\n pointed to the window of Henry's place, where I wanted it to face.\n\n\n Because we still had a chance. With the field glasses and Skippy's\n young, good eyes to look through them, with the transmitter that would\n carry an extra hundred yards easy enough—with everything going for us,\n we had a chance. Provided Henry had been able to maneuver Chapo so his\n back was to the window.\n\n\n The bed merchant gave us a long stall about how the only room we wanted\n belonged to a sweet old lady that was sick and couldn't be moved. But\n for ten bucks she could be.\n\n\n All the time I was wondering how many hands were being played, if we\n were stuck money and how much—all kinds of things. But finally we\n got into the room and I laid it out for Skippy. \"You aim those field\n glasses out the window,\" I told him. \"Read Chapo's cards and let me\n know; that's all. I'll take care of the rest.\"\n\n\n I'll say this for him, duck-tail haircut and all, he settled right\n down to business. I made myself comfortable on the bed and rattled them\n off on the transmitter as he read the cards to me. I couldn't see the\n players, didn't know the score; but if he was giving the cards to me\n right, I was getting them out to Henry.\nI felt pretty good. I even began to feel kindly toward the kid. At my\n age, bifocals are standard equipment, but to judge from Skippy's fast,\n sure call of the cards, his eyesight was twenty-twenty or better.\n\n\n After about an hour, Skippy put down the glasses and broke the news:\n the game was over.\n\n\n We took our time getting back to Henry's place, so Chapo would have\n time to clear out. Henry greeted us with eight fingers in the air.\n\n\n Eight hundred? But before I could ask him, he was already talking:\n \"Eight big ones! Eight thousand bucks! And how you did it, I'll never\n know!\"\n\n\n Well, eight thousand was good news, no doubt of that. I said, \"That's\n the old system, Henry. But we couldn't have done it if you hadn't\n steered the fish up to the window.\" And I showed him the Japanese field\n glasses, grinning.\n\n\n But he didn't grin back. He looked puzzled. He glanced toward the\n window.\n\n\n I looked too, and then I saw what he was puzzled about. It was pretty\n obvious that Henry had missed my signal. He and the fish had played by\n the window, all right.\n\n\n But the shade was down.\nWhen I turned around to look for Skippy, to ask him some questions, he\n was gone. Evidently he didn't want to answer.\n\n\n I beat up and down every block in the neighborhood until I spotted him\n in a beanery, drinking a cup of coffee and looking worried.\n\n\n I sat down beside him, quiet. He didn't look around. The counterman\n opened his mouth to say hello. I shook my head, but Skippy said,\n \"That's all right. I know you're there.\"\n\n\n I blinked. This was a creep! But I had to find out what was going on. I\n said, \"You made a mistake, kid.\"\n\n\n \"Running out?\" He shrugged. \"It's not the first mistake I made,\" he\n said bitterly. \"Getting into your little setup with the bugged game\n came before that.\"\n\n\n I said, \"You can always quit,\" but then stopped. Because it was a lie.\n He couldn't quit—not until I found out how he read Chapo's cards\n through a drawn shade.\n\n\n He said drearily, \"You've all got me marked lousy, haven't you? Don't\n kid me about Henry—I know. I'm not so sure about you, but it wouldn't\n surprise me.\"\n\n\n \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\n \"I can hear every word that's on Henry's mind,\" he said somberly.\n \"You, no. Some people I can hear, some I can't; you're one I can't.\"\n\n\n \"What kind of goofy talk is that?\" I demanded. But, to tell you the\n truth, I didn't think it was so goofy. The window shade was a lot\n goofier.\n\n\n \"All my life,\" said Skippy, \"I've been hearing the voices. It doesn't\n matter if they talk out loud or not. Most people I can hear, even when\n they don't want me to. Field glasses? I didn't need field glasses. I\n could hear every thought that went through Chapo's mind, clear across\n the street. Henry too. That's how I know.\" He hesitated, looking at me.\n \"You think Henry took eight thousand off Chapo, don't you? It was ten.\"\n\n\n I said, \"Prove it.\"\n\n\n The kid finished his coffee. \"Well,\" he said, \"you want to know what\n the counterman's got on his mind?\" He leaned over and whispered to me.\n\n\n I yelled, \"That's a lousy thing to say!\"\n\n\n Everybody was looking at us. He said softly, \"You see what it's like? I\n don't want to hear all this stuff! You think the counterman's got a bad\n mind, you ought to listen in on Henry's.\" He looked along the stools.\n \"See that fat little woman down at the end? She's going to order\n another cheese Danish.\"\n\n\n He hadn't even finished talking when the woman was calling the\n counterman, and she got another cheese Danish. I thought it over. What\n he said about Henry holding out on me made it real serious. I had to\n have more proof.\n\n\n But I didn't like Skippy's idea of proof. He offered to call off what\n everybody in the beanery was going to do next, barring three or four he\n said were silent, like me. That wasn't good enough. \"Come along with\n me,\" I told him, and we took off for Jake's spot.\n\n\n That's a twenty-four-hour place and the doorman knows me. I knew Jake\n and I knew his roulette wheel was gaffed. I walked right up to the\n wheel, and whispered to the kid, \"Can you read the dealer?\" He smiled\n and nodded. \"All right. Call black or red.\"\n\n\n The wheel spun, but that didn't stop the betting. Jake's hungry. In\n his place you can still bet for a few seconds after the wheel starts\n turning.\n\n\n \"Black,\" Skippy said.\n\n\n I threw down fifty bucks. Black it was.\n\n\n That rattled me.\n\n\n \"Call again,\" I said.\n\n\n When Skippy said black, I put the fifty on red. Black won it.\n\n\n \"Let's go,\" I said, and led the kid out of there.\n\n\n He was looking puzzled. \"How come—\"\n\n\n \"How come I played to lose?\" I patted his shoulder. \"Sonny, you got a\n lot to learn. Jake's is no fair game. This was only a dry run.\"\n\n\n Then I got rid of him, because I had something to do.\nHenry came across. He even looked embarrassed. \"I figured,\" he said,\n \"uh, I figured that the expenses—\"\n\n\n \"Save it,\" I told him. \"All I want is my split.\"\n\n\n He handed it over, but I kept my hand out, waiting. After a minute he\n got the idea. He reached down inside the waistband of his pants, pulled\n loose the tape that held the dimes to his skin and handed over the\n radio receiver. \"That's it, huh?\" he said.\n\n\n \"That's it.\"\n\n\n \"Take your best shot,\" he said glumly. \"But mark my words. You're not\n going to make out on your own.\"\n\n\n \"I won't be on my own,\" I told him, and left him then. By myself? Not\n a chance! It was going to be Skippy and me, all the way. Not only\n could he read minds, but the capper was that he couldn't read mine!\n Otherwise, you can understand, I might not want him around all the time.\n\n\n But this way I had my own personal bug in every game in town, and I\n didn't even have to spend for batteries. Card games, gaffed wheels,\n everything. Down at the track he could follow the smart-money guys\n around and let me know what they knew, which was plenty. We could even\n go up against the legit games in Nevada, with no worry about bluffs.\n\n\n And think of the fringe benefits! With Skippy giving the women a\n preliminary screening, I could save a lot of wasted time. At my age,\n time is nothing to be wasted.\n\n\n I could understand a lot about Skippy now—why he didn't like most\n people, why he laughed at jokes nobody else thought were funny, or even\n could hear. But everybody has got to like somebody, and I had the edge\n over most of the human race. He didn't know what I was thinking.\n\n\n And then, take away the voices in his head, and Skippy didn't have much\n left. He wasn't very smart. If he had half as much in the way of brains\n as he did in the way of private radar, he would have figured all these\n angles out for himself long ago. No, he needed me. And I needed him.\n We were all set to make a big score together, so I went back to his\n rooming house where I'd told him to wait, to get going on the big time.\n\n\n However, Henry had more brains than Skippy.\n\n\n I hadn't told Henry who tipped me off, but it didn't take him long to\n work out. After all, I had told him I was going out to look for Skippy,\n and I came right back and called him for holding out. No, it didn't\n take much brains. All he had to do was come around to Skippy's place\n and give him a little lesson about talking.\n\n\n So when I walked in the door, Skippy was there, but he was out cold,\n with lumps on his forehead and a stupid grin on his face. I woke him up\n and he recognized me.\n\n\n But you don't make your TV set play better by kicking it. You don't\n help a fine Swiss watch by pounding it on an anvil. Skippy could walk\n and talk all right, but something was missing. \"The voices!\" he yelled,\n sitting up on the edge of the bed.\n\n\n I got a quick attack of cold fear. \"Skippy! What's the matter? Don't\n you hear them any more?\"\n\n\n He looked at me in a panic. \"Oh, I hear them all right. But they're all\n different now. I mean—it isn't English any more. In fact, it isn't any\n language at all!\"\nLike I say, I'm a genius. Skippy wouldn't lie to me; he's not smart\n enough. If he says he hears voices, he hears voices.\n\n\n Being a genius, my theory is that when Henry worked Skippy over, he\n jarred his tuning strips, or whatever it is, so now Skippy's receiving\n on another frequency. Make sense? I'm positive about it. He sticks to\n the same story, telling me about what he's hearing inside his head, and\n he's too stupid to make it all up.\n\n\n There are some parts of it I don't have all figured out yet, but I'll\n get them. Like what he tells me about the people—I\nguess\nthey're\n people—whose voices he hears. They're skinny and furry and very\n religious. He can't understand their language, but he gets pictures\n from them, and he told me what he saw. They worship the Moon, he says.\n Only that's wrong too, because he says they worship two moons, and\n everybody knows there's only one. But I'll figure it out; I have to,\n because I have to get Skippy back in business.\n\n\n Meanwhile it's pretty lonesome. I spend a lot of time down around the\n old neighborhood, but I haven't set up another partner for taking the\n card players. That seems like pretty small stuff now. And I don't talk\n to Henry when I see him. And I\nnever\ngo in the beanery when that\n counterman is on duty. I've got enough troubles in the world; I don't\n have to add to them by associating with\nhis\nkind.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How did the protagonist originally cheat at card games?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_1", "options": ["By using a loaded deck", "By using a radio transmitter", "By having a spy across the room", "By using telepathy"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the customers begin to dislike Skippy?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_2", "options": ["He was rude with the customers", "He was not very smart and would make mistakes often", "The customers would always lose at cards when he was around", "He was always laughing at seemingly nothing"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Henry unhappy about the high-stakes gambler coming in?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_3", "options": ["Henry would not be able to cheat during the game", "Henry was too with electronics sales to gamble at the time", "Henry did not have enough money to gamble with", "Henry had already closed the shop and sent his help home for the day"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the protagonist want a room directly across the street from Henry's shop?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_4", "options": ["So that he could watch Henry's comings and goings", "So that he could spy during the card game", "So that he could hide from Chapo", "So that he could be nearby if anything went wrong with Henry and Chapo"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why were Henry and the protagonist puzzled after winning in the card game?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_5", "options": ["The money had been stolen by Skippy", "They were able to spy on the cards without seeing them", "They won far more money than they expected", "Chapo had just let them take the money without protest"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How did the protagonist plan on beating Chapo in the card game?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_6", "options": ["By spying on him from with Japanese field glasses", "By using Skippy's telepathic powers", "By using the radio transmitter from within the same room", "By using a loaded deck of cards and sleight of hand"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Skippy always laughing randomly?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_7", "options": ["He was laughing at old jokes that he told", "He was laughing at other people's thoughts", "He was losing his mind and would laugh for no reason", "He would laugh when he was nervous"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Skippy prove his powers to the protagonist?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_8", "options": ["By telling him his thoughts", "By calling the outcomes of a roulette game", "By cheating at the card games", "By telling him people's orders at the coffee shop"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Henry figure out that Skippy tipped the protagonist off?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_9", "options": ["Henry had been listening to the conversation", "The protagonist knew that Henry hid money from ", "Skippy told Henry that he had done so", "The protagonist told Henry so"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What caused Skippy to start hearing different voices?", "question_unique_id": "60897_TMYJD4UO_10", "options": ["Using his telepathy too much", "Being hit in the head by Henry", "Spending too much on his own", "Getting over excited by winning too much money"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/0/8/9/60897//60897-h//60897-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "31599", "set_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "To Remember Charlie By", "year": 1959, "author": "Aycock, Roger D.", "topic": "Children with disabilities -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction; Parapsychology -- Fiction; Florida -- Fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from Fantastic Universe March 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe history of this materialistic world is highlighted with\n strange events that scientists and historians, unable to explain\n logically, have dismissed with such labels as \"supernatural,\"\n \"miracle,\" etc. But there are those among us whose simple faith\n can—and often does—alter the scheme of the universe. Even a little\n child can do it....\nto remember charlie by\nby ... Roger Dee\nJust a one-eyed dog named Charlie and a crippled boy named\n Joey—but between them they changed the face of the universe\n ... perhaps.\nInearly stumbled over the kid in the dark before I saw him.\n\n\n His wheelchair was parked as usual on the tired strip of carpet grass\n that separated his mother's trailer from the one Doc Shull and I lived\n in, but it wasn't exactly where I'd learned to expect it when I rolled\n in at night from the fishing boats. Usually it was nearer the west end\n of the strip where Joey could look across the crushed-shell square of\n the Twin Palms trailer court and the palmetto flats to the Tampa\n highway beyond. But this time it was pushed back into the shadows away\n from the court lights.\n\n\n The boy wasn't watching the flats tonight, as he usually did. Instead\n he was lying back in his chair with his face turned to the sky,\n staring upward with such absorbed intensity that he didn't even know I\n was there until I spoke.\n\n\n \"Anything wrong, Joey?\" I asked.\n\n\n He said, \"No, Roy,\" without taking his eyes off the sky.\n\n\n For a minute I had the prickly feeling you get when you are watching a\n movie and find that you know just what is going to happen next.\n You're puzzled and a little spooked until you realize that the reason\n you can predict the action so exactly is because you've seen the same\n thing happen somewhere else a long time ago. I forgot the feeling when\n I remembered why the kid wasn't watching the palmetto flats. But I\n couldn't help wondering why he'd turned to watching the sky instead.\n\n\n \"What're you looking for up there, Joey?\" I asked.\n\n\n He didn't move and from the tone of his voice I got the impression\n that he only half heard me.\n\n\n \"I'm moving some stars,\" he said softly.\n\n\n I gave it up and went on to my own trailer without asking any more\n fool questions. How can you talk to a kid like that?\n\n\n Doc Shull wasn't in, but for once I didn't worry about him. I was\n trying to remember just what it was about my stumbling over Joey's\n wheelchair that had given me that screwy double-exposure feeling of\n familiarity. I got a can of beer out of the ice-box because I think\n better with something cold in my hand, and by the time I had finished\n the beer I had my answer.\n\n\n The business I'd gone through with Joey outside was familiar because\n it\nhad\nhappened before, about six weeks back when Doc and I first\n parked our trailer at the Twin Palms court. I'd nearly stumbled over\n Joey that time too, but he wasn't moving stars then. He was just\n staring ahead of him, waiting.\n\n\n He'd been sitting in his wheelchair at the west end of the\n carpet-grass strip, staring out over the palmetto flats toward the\n highway. He was practically holding his breath, as if he was waiting\n for somebody special to show up, so absorbed in his watching that he\n didn't know I was there until I spoke. He reminded me a little of a\n ventriloquist's dummy with his skinny, knob-kneed body, thin face and\n round, still eyes. Only there wasn't anything comical about him the\n way there is about a dummy. Maybe that's why I spoke, because he\n looked so deadly serious.\n\n\n \"Anything wrong, kid?\" I asked.\n\n\n He didn't jump or look up. His voice placed him as a cracker, either\n south Georgian or native Floridian.\n\n\n \"I'm waiting for Charlie to come home,\" he said, keeping his eyes on\n the highway.\n\n\n Probably I'd have asked who Charlie was but just then the trailer door\n opened behind him and his mother took over.\n\n\n I couldn't see her too well because the lights were off inside the\n trailer. But I could tell from the way she filled up the doorway that\n she was big. I could make out the white blur of a cigarette in her\n mouth, and when she struck a match to light it—on her thumb-nail,\n like a man—I saw that she was fairly young and not bad-looking in a\n tough, sullen sort of way. The wind was blowing in my direction and it\n told me she'd had a drink recently, gin, by the smell of it.\n\n\n \"This is none of your business, mister,\" she said. Her voice was\n Southern like the boy's but with all the softness ground out of it\n from living on the Florida coast where you hear a hundred different\n accents every day. \"Let the boy alone.\"\n\n\n She was right about it being none of my business. I went on into the\n trailer I shared with Doc Shull and left the two of them waiting for\n Charlie together.\n\n\n Our trailer was dark inside, which meant first that Doc had probably\n gone out looking for a drink as soon as I left that morning to pick up\n a job, and second that he'd probably got too tight to find his way\n back. But I was wrong on at least one count, because when I switched\n on the light and dumped the packages I'd brought on the sink cabinet I\n saw Doc asleep in his bunk.\n\n\n He'd had a drink, though. I could smell it on him when I shook him\n awake, and it smelled like gin.\n\n\n Doc sat up and blinked against the light, a thin, elderly little man\n with bright blue eyes, a clipped brown mustache and scanty brown hair\n tousled and wild from sleep. He was stripped to his shorts against the\n heat, but at some time during the day he had bathed and shaved. He had\n even washed and ironed a shirt; it hung on a nail over his bunk with a\n crumpled pack of cigarettes in the pocket.\n\n\n \"Crawl out and cook supper, Rip,\" I said, holding him to his end of\n our working agreement. \"I've made a day and I'm hungry.\"\n\n\n Doc got up and stepped into his pants. He padded barefoot across the\n linoleum and poked at the packages on the sink cabinet.\n\n\n \"Snapper steak again,\" he complained. \"Roy, I'm sick of fish!\"\n\n\n \"You don't catch sirloins with a hand-line,\" I told him. And because\n I'd never been able to stay sore at him for long I added, \"But we got\n beer. Where's the opener?\"\n\n\n \"I'm sick of beer, too,\" Doc said. \"I need a real drink.\"\n\n\n I sniffed the air, making a business of it. \"You've had one already.\n Where?\"\n\n\n He grinned at me then with the wise-to-himself-and-the-world grin that\n lit up his face like turning on a light inside and made him different\n from anybody else on earth.\n\n\n \"The largess of Providence,\" he said, \"is bestowed impartially upon\n sot and Samaritan. I helped the little fellow next door to the\n bathroom this afternoon while his mother was away at work, and my\n selflessness had its just reward.\"\n\n\n Sometimes it's hard to tell when Doc is kidding. He's an educated\n man—used to teach at some Northern college, he said once, and I never\n doubted it—and talks like one when he wants to. But Doc's no bum,\n though he's a semi-alcoholic and lets me support him like an invalid\n uncle, and he's keen enough to read my mind like a racing form.\n\n\n \"No, I didn't batter down the cupboard and help myself,\" he said. \"The\n lady—her name is Mrs. Ethel Pond—gave me the drink. Why else do you\n suppose I'd launder a shirt?\"\n\n\n That was like Doc. He hadn't touched her bottle though his insides\n were probably snarled up like barbed wire for the want of it. He'd\n shaved and pressed a shirt instead so he'd look decent enough to rate\n a shot of gin she'd offer him as a reward. It wasn't such a doubtful\n gamble at that, because Doc has a way with him when he bothers to use\n it; maybe that's why he bums around with me after the commercial\n fishing and migratory crop work, because he's used that charm too\n often in the wrong places.\n\n\n \"Good enough,\" I said and punctured a can of beer apiece for us while\n Doc put the snapper steaks to cook.\n\n\n He told me more about our neighbors while we killed the beer. The\n Ponds were permanent residents. The kid—his name was Joey and he was\n ten—was a polio case who hadn't walked for over a year, and his\n mother was a waitress at a roadside joint named the Sea Shell Diner.\n There wasn't any Mr. Pond. I guessed there never had been, which would\n explain why Ethel acted so tough and sullen.\n\n\n We were halfway through supper when I remembered something the kid had\n said.\n\n\n \"Who's Charlie?\" I asked.\n\n\n Doc frowned at his plate. \"The kid had a dog named Charlie, a big\n shaggy mutt with only one eye and no love for anybody but the boy. The\n dog isn't coming home. He was run down by a car on the highway while\n Joey was hospitalized with polio.\"\n\n\n \"Tough,\" I said, thinking of the kid sitting out there all day in his\n wheelchair, straining his eyes across the palmetto flats. \"You mean\n he's been waiting a\nyear\n?\"\n\n\n Doc nodded, seemed to lose interest in the Ponds, so I let the subject\n drop. We sat around after supper and polished off the rest of the\n beer. When we turned in around midnight I figured we wouldn't be\n staying long at the Twin Palms trailer court. It wasn't a very\n comfortable place.\n\n\n I was wrong there. It wasn't comfortable, but we stayed.\n\n\n I couldn't have said at first why we stuck, and if Doc could he didn't\n volunteer. Neither of us talked about it. We just went on living the\n way we were used to living, a few weeks here and a few there, all\n over the States.\n\n\n We'd hit the Florida west coast too late for the citrus season, so I\n went in for the fishing instead. I worked the fishing boats all the\n way from Tampa down to Fort Myers, not signing on with any of the\n commercial companies because I like to move quick when I get restless.\n I picked the independent deep-water snapper runs mostly, because the\n percentage is good there if you've got a strong back and tough hands.\n\n\n Snapper fishing isn't the sport it seems to the one-day tourists who\n flock along because the fee is cheap. You fish from a wide-beamed old\n scow, usually, with hand-lines instead of regular tackle, and you use\n multiple hooks that go down to the bottom where the big red ones are.\n There's no real thrill to it, as the one-day anglers find out quickly.\n A snapper puts up no more fight than a catfish and the biggest job is\n to haul out his dead weight once you've got him surfaced.\n\n\n Usually a pro like me sells his catch to the boat's owner or to some\n clumsy sport who wants his picture shot with a big one, and there's\n nearly always a jackpot—from a pool made up at the beginning of every\n run—for the man landing the biggest fish of the day. There's a knack\n to hooking the big ones, and when the jackpots were running good I\n only worked a day or so a week and spent the rest of the time lying\n around the trailer playing cribbage and drinking beer with Doc Shull.\n\n\n Usually it was the life of Riley, but somehow it wasn't enough in this\n place. We'd get about half-oiled and work up a promising argument\n about what was wrong with the world. Then, just when we'd got life\n looking its screwball funniest with our arguments one or the other of\n us would look out the window and see Joey Pond in his wheelchair,\n waiting for a one-eyed dog named Charlie to come trotting home across\n the palmetto flats. He was always there, day or night, until his\n mother came home from work and rolled him inside.\n\n\n It wasn't right or natural for a kid to wait like that for anything\n and it worried me. I even offered once to buy the kid another mutt but\n Ethel Pond told me quick to mind my own business. Doc explained that\n the kid didn't want another mutt because he had what Doc called a\n psychological block.\n\n\n \"Charlie was more than just a dog to him,\" Doc said. \"He was a sort of\n symbol because he offered the kid two things that no one else in the\n world could—security and independence. With Charlie keeping him\n company he felt secure, and he was independent of the kids who could\n run and play because he had Charlie to play with. If he took another\n dog now he'd be giving up more than Charlie. He'd be giving up\n everything that Charlie had meant to him, then there wouldn't be any\n point in living.\"\n\n\n I could see it when Doc put it that way. The dog had spent more time\n with Joey than Ethel had, and the kid felt as safe with him as he'd\n have been with a platoon of Marines. And Charlie, being a one-man dog,\n had depended on Joey for the affection he wouldn't take from anybody\n else. The dog needed Joey and Joey needed him. Together, they'd been a\n natural.\n\n\n At first I thought it was funny that Joey never complained or cried\n when Charlie didn't come home, but Doc explained that it was all a\n part of this psychological block business. If Joey cried he'd be\n admitting that Charlie was lost. So he waited and watched, secure in\n his belief that Charlie would return.\n\n\n The Ponds got used to Doc and me being around, but they never got what\n you'd call intimate. Joey would laugh at some of the droll things Doc\n said, but his eyes always went back to the palmetto flats and the\n highway, looking for Charlie. And he never let anything interfere with\n his routine.\n\n\n That routine started every morning when old man Cloehessey, the\n postman, pedaled his bicycle out from Twin Palms to leave a handful of\n mail for the trailer-court tenants. Cloehessey would always make it a\n point to ride back by way of the Pond trailer and Joey would stop him\n and ask if he's seen anything of a one-eyed dog on his route that day.\n\n\n Old Cloehessey would lean on his bike and take off his sun helmet and\n mop his bald scalp, scowling while he pretended to think.\n\n\n Then he'd say, \"Not today, Joey,\" or, \"Thought so yesterday, but this\n fellow had two eyes on him. 'Twasn't Charlie.\"\n\n\n Then he'd pedal away, shaking his head. Later on the handyman would\n come around to swap sanitary tanks under the trailers and Joey would\n ask him the same question. Once a month the power company sent out a\n man to read the electric meters and he was part of Joey's routine too.\n\n\n It was hard on Ethel. Sometimes the kid would dream at night that\n Charlie had come home and was scratching at the trailer ramp to be let\n in, and he'd wake Ethel and beg her to go out and see. When that\n happened Doc and I could hear Ethel talking to him, low and steady,\n until all hours of the morning, and when he finally went back to sleep\n we'd hear her open the cupboard and take out the gin bottle.\n\n\n But there came a night that was more than Ethel could take, a night\n that changed Joey's routine and a lot more with it. It left a mark\n you've seen yourself—everybody has that's got eyes to see—though\n you never knew what made it. Nobody ever knew that but Joey and Ethel\n Pond and Doc and me.\n\n\n Doc and I were turning in around midnight that night when the kid sang\n out next door. We heard Ethel get up and go to him, and we got up too\n and opened a beer because we knew neither of us would sleep any more\n till she got Joey quiet again. But this night was different. Ethel\n hadn't talked to the kid long when he yelled, \"Charlie!\nCharlie!\n\"\n and after that we heard both of them bawling.\n\n\n A little later Ethel came out into the moonlight and shut the trailer\n door behind her. She looked rumpled and beaten, her hair straggling\n damply on her shoulders and her eyes puffed and red from crying. The\n gin she'd had hadn't helped any either.\n\n\n She stood for a while without moving, then she looked up at the sky\n and said something I'm not likely to forget.\n\n\n \"Why couldn't You give the kid a break?\" she said, not railing or\n anything but loud enough for us to hear. \"You, up there—what's\n another lousy one-eyed mutt to You?\"\n\n\n Doc and I looked at each other in the half-dark of our own trailer.\n \"She's done it, Roy,\" Doc said.\n\n\n I knew what he meant and wished I didn't. Ethel had finally told the\n kid that Charlie wasn't coming back, not ever.\n\n\n That's why I was worried about Joey when I came home the next evening\n and found him watching the sky instead of the palmetto flats. It meant\n he'd given up waiting for Charlie. And the quiet way the kid spoke of\n moving the stars around worried me more, because it sounded outright\n crazy.\n\n\n Not that you could blame him for going off his head. It was tough\n enough to be pinned to a wheelchair without being able to wiggle so\n much as a toe. But to lose his dog in the bargain....\n\n\n I was on my third beer when Doc Shull rolled in with a big package\n under his arm. Doc was stone sober, which surprised me, and he was hot\n and tired from a shopping trip to Tampa, which surprised me more. It\n was when he ripped the paper off his package, though, that I thought\n he'd lost his mind.\n\n\n \"Books for Joey,\" Doc said. \"Ethel and I agreed this morning that the\n boy needs another interest to occupy his time now, and since he can't\n go to school I'm going to teach him here.\"\n\n\n He went on to explain that Ethel hadn't had the heart the night\n before, desperate as she was, to tell the kid the whole truth. She'd\n told him instead, quoting an imaginary customer at the Sea Shell\n Diner, that a tourist car with Michigan license plates had picked\n Charlie up on the highway and taken him away. It was a good enough\n story. Joey still didn't know that Charlie was dead, but his waiting\n was over because no dog could be expected to find his way home from\n Michigan.\n\n\n \"We've got to give the boy another interest,\" Doc said, putting away\n the books and puncturing another beer can. \"Joey has a remarkable\n talent for concentration—most handicapped children have—that could\n be the end of him if it isn't diverted into safe channels.\"\n\n\n I thought the kid had cracked up already and said so.\n\n\n \"Moving\nstars\n?\" Doc said when I told him. \"Good Lord, Roy—\"\nEthel Pond knocked just then, interrupting him. She came in and had a\n beer with us and talked to Doc about his plan for educating Joey at\n home. But she couldn't tell us anything more about the kid's new\n fixation than we already knew. When she asked him why he stared up at\n the sky like that he'd say only that he wants something to remember\n Charlie by.\n\n\n It was about nine o'clock, when Ethel went home to cook supper. Doc\n and I knocked off our cribbage game and went outside with our folding\n chairs to get some air. It was then that the first star moved.\n\n\n It moved all of a sudden, the way any shooting star does, and shot\n across the sky in a curving, blue-white streak of fire. I didn't pay\n much attention, but Doc nearly choked on his beer.\n\n\n \"Roy,\" he said, \"that was Sirius!\nIt moved!\n\"\n\n\n I didn't see anything serious about it and said so. You can see a\n dozen or so stars zip across the sky on any clear night if you're in\n the mood to look up.\n\n\n \"Not serious, you fool,\" Doc said. \"The\nstar\nSirius—the Dog Star,\n it's called—it moved a good sixty degrees,\nthen stopped dead\n!\"\n\n\n I sat up and took notice then, partly because the star really had\n stopped instead of burning out the way a falling star seems to do,\n partly because anything that excites Doc Shull that much is something\n to think about.\n\n\n We watched the star like two cats at a mouse-hole, but it didn't move\n again. After a while a smaller one did, though, and later in the night\n a whole procession of them streaked across the sky and fell into place\n around the first one, forming a pattern that didn't make any sense to\n us. They stopped moving around midnight and we went to bed, but\n neither of us got to sleep right away.\n\n\n \"Maybe we ought to look for another interest in life ourselves instead\n of drumming up one for Joey,\" Doc said. He meant it as a joke but it\n had a shaky sound; \"Something besides getting beered up every night,\n for instance.\"\n\n\n \"You think we've got the d.t.'s from drinking\nbeer\n?\" I asked.\n\n\n Doc laughed at that, sounding more like his old self. \"No, Roy. No\n two people ever had instantaneous and identical hallucinations.\"\n\n\n \"Look,\" I said. \"I know this sounds crazy but maybe Joey—\"\n\n\n Doc wasn't amused any more. \"Don't be a fool, Roy. If those stars\n really moved you can be sure of two things—Joey had nothing to do\n with it, and the papers will explain everything tomorrow.\"\n\n\n He was wrong on one count at least.\n\n\n The papers next day were packed with scareheads three inches high but\n none of them explained anything. The radio commentators quoted every\n authority they could reach, and astronomers were going crazy\n everywhere. It just couldn't happen, they said.\n\n\n Doc and I went over the news column by column that night and I learned\n more about the stars than I'd learned in a lifetime. Doc, as I've said\n before, is an educated man, and what he couldn't recall offhand about\n astronomy the newspapers quoted by chapter and verse. They ran\n interviews with astronomers at Harvard Observatory and Mount Wilson\n and Lick and Flagstaff and God knows where else, but nobody could\n explain why all of those stars would change position then stop.\n\n\n It set me back on my heels to learn that Sirius was twice as big as\n the Sun and more than twice as heavy, that it was three times as hot\n and had a little dark companion that was more solid than lead but\n didn't give off enough light to be seen with the naked eye. This\n little companion—astronomers called it the \"Pup\" because Sirius was\n the Dog Star—hadn't moved, which puzzled the astronomers no end. I\n suggested to Doc, only half joking, that maybe the Pup had stayed put\n because it wasn't bright enough to suit Joey's taste, but Doc called\n me down sharp.\n\n\n \"Don't joke about Joey,\" he said sternly. \"Getting back to\n Sirius—it's so far away that its light needs eight and a half years\n to reach us. That means it started moving when Joey was only eighteen\n months old. The speed of light is a universal constant, Roy, and\n astronomers say it can't be changed.\"\n\n\n \"They said the stars couldn't be tossed around like pool balls, too,\"\n I pointed out. \"I'm not saying that Joey really moved those damn\n stars, Doc, but if he did he could have moved the light along with\n them, couldn't he?\"\n\n\n But Doc wouldn't argue the point. \"I'm going out for air,\" he said.\n\n\n I trailed along, but we didn't get farther than Joey's wheelchair.\n\n\n There he sat, tense and absorbed, staring up at the night sky. Doc and\n I followed his gaze, the way you do automatically when somebody on the\n street ahead of you cranes his neck at something. We looked up just\n in time to see the stars start moving again.\n\n\n The first one to go was a big white one that slanted across the sky\n like a Roman candle fireball—\nzip\n, like that—and stopped dead\n beside the group that had collected around Sirius.\n\n\n Doc said, \"There went Altair,\" and his voice sounded like he had just\n run a mile.\n\n\n That was only the beginning. During the next hour forty or fifty more\n stars flashed across the sky and joined the group that had moved the\n night before. The pattern they made still didn't look like anything in\n particular.\n\n\n I left Doc shaking his head at the sky and went over to give Joey, who\n had called it a night and was hand-rolling his wheelchair toward the\n Pond trailer, a boost up the entrance ramp. I pushed him inside where\n Doc couldn't hear, then I asked him how things were going.\n\n\n \"Slow, Roy,\" he said. \"I've got 'most a hundred to go, yet.\"\n\n\n \"Then you're really moving those stars up there?\"\n\n\n He looked surprised. \"Sure, it's not so hard once you know how.\"\n\n\n The odds were even that he was pulling my leg, but I went ahead anyway\n and asked another question.\n\n\n \"I can't make head or tail of it, Joey,\" I said. \"What're you making\n up there?\"\n\n\n He gave me a very small smile.\n\n\n \"You'll know when I'm through,\" he said.\n\n\n I told Doc about that after we'd bunked in, but he said I should not\n encourage the kid in his crazy thinking. \"Joey's heard everybody\n talking about those stars moving, the radio newscasters blared about\n it, so he's excited too. But he's got a lot more imagination than most\n people, because he's a cripple, and he could go off on a crazy tangent\n because he's upset about Charlie. The thing to do is give him a\n logical explanation instead of letting him think his fantasy is a\n fact.\"\n\n\n Doc was taking all this so hard—because it was upsetting things he'd\n taken for granted as being facts all his life, like those astronomers\n who were going nuts in droves all over the world. I didn't realize how\n upset Doc really was, though, till he woke me up at about 4:00\n a.m.\n\n\n \"I can't sleep for thinking about those stars,\" he said, sitting on\n the edge of my bunk. \"Roy, I'm\nscared\n.\"\n\n\n That from Doc was something I'd never expected to hear. It startled me\n wide enough awake to sit up in the dark and listen while he unloaded\n his worries.\n\n\n \"I'm afraid,\" Doc said, \"because what is happening up there isn't\n right or natural. It just can't be, yet it is.\"\n\n\n It was so quiet when he paused that I could hear the blood swishing in\n my ears. Finally Doc said, \"Roy, the galaxy we live in is as\n delicately balanced as a fine watch. If that balance is upset too far\n our world will be affected drastically.\"\n\n\n Ordinarily I wouldn't have argued with Doc on his own ground, but I\n could see he was painting a mental picture of the whole universe\n crashing together like a Fourth of July fireworks display and I was\n afraid to let him go on.\n\n\n \"The trouble with you educated people,\" I said, \"is that you think\n your experts have got everything figured out, that there's nothing in\n the world their slide-rules can't pin down. Well, I'm an illiterate\n mugg, but I know that your astronomers can measure the stars till\n they're blue in the face and they'll never learn who\nput\nthose stars\n there. So how do they know that whoever put them there won't move them\n again? I've always heard that if a man had faith enough he could move\n mountains. Well, if a man has the faith in himself that Joey's got\n maybe he could move stars, too.\"\n\n\n Doc sat quiet for a minute.\n\n\n \"'\nThere are more things, Horatio....\n'\" he began, then laughed. \"A\n line worn threadbare by three hundred years of repetition but as apt\n tonight as ever, Roy. Do you really believe Joey is moving those\n stars?\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\" I came back. \"It's as good an answer as any the experts\n have come up with.\"\n\n\n Doc got up and went back to his own bunk. \"Maybe you're right. We'll\n find out tomorrow.\"\n\n\n And we did. Doc did, rather, while I was hard at work hauling red\n snappers up from the bottom of the Gulf.\nI got home a little earlier than usual that night, just before it got\n really dark. Joey was sitting as usual all alone in his wheelchair. In\n the gloom I could see a stack of books on the grass beside him, books\n Doc had given him to study. The thing that stopped me was that Joey\n was staring at his feet as if they were the first ones he'd ever seen,\n and he had the same look of intense concentration on his face that I'd\n seen when he was watching the stars.\n\n\n I didn't know what to say to him, thinking maybe I'd better not\n mention the stars. But Joey spoke first.\n\n\n \"Roy,\" he said, without taking his eyes off his toes, \"did you know\n that Doc is an awfully wise man?\"\n\n\n I said I'd always thought so, but why?\n\n\n \"Doc said this morning that I ought not to move any more stars,\" the\n kid said. \"He says I ought to concentrate instead on learning how to\n walk again so I can go to Michigan and find Charlie.\"\n\n\n For a minute I was mad enough to brain Doc Shull if he'd been handy.\n Anybody that would pull a gag like that on a crippled, helpless\n kid....\n\n\n \"Doc says that if I can do what I've been doing to the stars then it\n ought to be easy to move my own feet,\" Joey said. \"And he's right,\n Roy. So I'm not going to move any more stars. I'm going to move my\n feet.\"\n\n\n He looked up at me with his small, solemn smile. \"It took me a whole\n day to learn how to move that first star, Roy, but I could do this\n after only a couple of hours. Look....\"\n\n\n And he wiggled the toes on both feet.\n\n\n It's a pity things don't happen in life like they do in books, because\n a first-class story could be made out of Joey Pond's knack for moving\n things by looking at them. In a book Joey might have saved the world\n or destroyed it, depending on which line would interest the most\n readers and bring the writer the fattest check, but of course it\n didn't really turn out either way. It ended in what Doc Shull called\n an anticlimax, leaving everybody happy enough except a few astronomers\n who like mysteries anyway or they wouldn't be astronomers in the first\n place.\n\n\n The stars that had been moved stayed where they were, but the pattern\n they had started was never finished. That unfinished pattern won't\n ever go away, in case you've wondered about it—it's up there in the\n sky where you can see it any clear night—but it will never be\n finished because Joey Pond lost interest in it when he learned to walk\n again.\n\n\n Walking was a slow business with Joey at first because his legs had\n got thin and weak—partially atrophied muscles, Doc said—and it took\n time to make them round and strong again. But in a couple of weeks he\n was stumping around on crutches and after that he never went near his\n wheelchair again.\n\n\n Ethel sent him to school at Sarasota by bus and before summer vacation\n time came around he was playing softball and fishing in the Gulf with\n a gang of other kids on Sundays.\n\n\n School opened up a whole new world to Joey and he fitted himself into\n the routine as neat as if he'd been doing it all his life. He learned\n a lot there and he forgot a lot that he'd learned for himself by being\n alone. Before we realized what was happening he was just like any\n other ten-year-old, full of curiosity and the devil, with no more\n power to move things by staring at them than anybody else had.\n\n\n I think he actually forgot about those stars along with other things\n that had meant so much to him when he was tied to his wheelchair and\n couldn't do anything but wait and think.\n\n\n For instance, a scrubby little terrier followed him home from Twin\n Palms one day and Ethel let him keep it. He fed the pup and washed it\n and named it Dugan, and after that he never said anything more about\n going to Michigan to find Charlie. It was only natural, of course,\n because kids—normal kids—forget their pain quickly. It's a sort of\n defense mechanism, Doc says, against the disappointments of this life.\n\n\n When school opened again in the fall Ethel sold her trailer and got a\n job in Tampa where Joey could walk to school instead of going by bus.\n When they were gone the Twin Palms trailer court was so lonesome and\n dead that Doc and I pulled out and went down to the Lake Okechobee\n country for the sugar cane season. We never heard from Ethel and Joey\n again.\n\n\n We've moved several times since; we're out in the San Joaquin Valley\n just now, with the celery croppers. But everywhere we go we're\n reminded of them. Every time we look up at a clear night sky we see\n what Doc calls the Joey Pond Stellar Monument, which is nothing but a\n funny sort of pattern roughed in with a hundred or so stars of all\n sizes and colors.\n\n\n The body of it is so sketchy that you'd never make out what it's\n supposed to be unless you knew already what you were looking for. To\n us the head of a dog is fairly plain. If you know enough to fill in\n the gaps you can see it was meant to be a big shaggy dog with only one\n eye.\n\n\n Doc says that footloose migratories like him and me forget old\n associations as quick as kids do—and for the same good reason—so I'm\n not especially interested now in where Ethel and Joey Pond are or how\n they're doing. But there's one thing I'll always wonder about, now\n that there's no way of ever knowing for sure.\n\n\n I wish I'd asked Joey or Ethel, before they moved away, how Charlie\n lost that other eye.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Joey always sitting outside of his trailer?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_1", "options": ["He was looking for the neighbor, Roy", "He liked to watch the shooting stars", "He was waiting for his mother to come home", "He was waiting for his dog Charlie to come home"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Ethel Pond tell Roy to leave Joey alone?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_2", "options": ["She did not trust strange men around her son", "Joey's condition required him to be kept in silence", "She had not told Joey that Charlie was gone", "Roy was always asking the Ponds for a drink"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Charlie not coming home to Joey?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_3", "options": ["Charlie had been taken to Michigan by another family", "Charlie was scared away by Joey moving the stars", "Charlie had been taken away by Joey's father", "Charlie had been killed on the highway"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How was Doc Shull able to acquire a liquor drink?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_4", "options": ["He had done some migratory crop work", "He had hidden a bottle of gin in the trailer", "He went to the nearby bar", "He had gotten it as a reward for helping Joey"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Roy not sign on with the commercial fishing companies?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_5", "options": ["They did not pay a high enough percentage", "They only fished for Snapper which was very difficult", "They only worked out of Fort Meyers", "They did not allow him to move around as he pleased"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why didn't Joey get a new dog when Charlie disappeared?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_6", "options": ["Joey refused to believe that Charlie was actually gone", "Joey's mother would not let him get another dog ", "Joey did not like any other dogs that he met", "Joey did not want to get a new dog to honor Charlie"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Ethel upset at night time after talking with Joey?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_7", "options": ["Roy and Doc had interrupted her conversation", "She had finally told him that Charlie was gone", "He refused to believe her about Charlie", "She had run out of gin to drink"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Doc so surprised by the shooting star?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_8", "options": ["There were never shooting stars in their area", "He had gotten too drunk that night and the bright light startled him", "It was a permanent star that was not supposed to move", "Joey had predicted the shooting star"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Joey moving the stars?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_9", "options": ["To make a sign to lead Charlie home", "To destroy the Universe out of anger", "To try and change space-time so that Charlie could be resurrected", "To make a portrait of Charlie in his honor"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was Joey able to regain his ability to walk?", "question_unique_id": "31599_F0FBY5RW_10", "options": ["His mother got a better job and could afford treatment", "He used his mind so that he could search for Charlie", "He outgrew his congenital issues", "Doc was able to cure his polio"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/1/5/9/31599//31599-h//31599-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "60745", "set_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Autumn After Next", "year": 1953, "author": "St. Clair, Margaret", "topic": "Short stories; Magic -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Life on other planets -- Fiction", "article": "THE AUTUMN AFTER NEXT\nBy MARGARET ST. CLAIR\nBeing a wizard missionary to\n \nthe Free'l needed more than\n \nmagic—it called for a miracle!\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, January 1960.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe spell the Free'l were casting ought to have drawn the moon down\n from the heavens, made water run uphill, and inverted the order of the\n seasons. But, since they had got broor's blood instead of newt's, were\n using alganon instead of vervet juice, and were three days later than\n the solstice anyhow, nothing happened.\n\n\n Neeshan watched their antics with a bitter smile.\n\n\n He'd tried hard with them. The Free'l were really a challenge to\n evangelical wizardry. They had some natural talent for magic, as was\n evinced by the frequent attempts they made to perform it, and they were\n interested in what he told them about its capacities. But they simply\n wouldn't take the trouble to do it right.\n\n\n How long had they been stamping around in their circle, anyhow? Since\n early moonset, and it was now almost dawn. No doubt they would go on\n stamping all next day, if not interrupted. It was time to call a halt.\n\n\n Neeshan strode into the middle of the circle. Rhn, the village chief,\n looked up from his drumming.\n\n\n \"Go away,\" he said. \"You'll spoil the charm.\"\n\n\n \"What charm? Can't you see by now, Rhn, that it isn't going to work?\"\n\n\n \"Of course it will. It just takes time.\"\n\n\n \"Hell it will. Hell it does. Watch.\"\n\n\n Neeshan pushed Rhn to one side and squatted down in the center of the\n circle. From the pockets of his black robe he produced stylus, dragon's\n blood, oil of anointing, and salt.\n\n\n He drew a design on the ground with the stylus, dropped dragon's blood\n at the corners of the parallelogram, and touched the inner cusps with\n the oil. Then, sighting carefully at the double red and white sun,\n which was just coming up, he touched the\nouter\ncusps with salt. An\n intense smoke sprang up.\nWhen the smoke died away, a small lizardlike creature was visible in\n the parallelogram.\n\n\n \"Tell the demon what you want,\" Neeshan ordered the Free'l.\n\n\n The Free'l hesitated. They had few wants, after all, which was one of\n the things that made teaching them magic difficult.\n\n\n \"Two big dyla melons,\" one of the younger ones said at last.\n\n\n \"A new andana necklace,\" said another.\n\n\n \"A tooter like the one you have,\" said Rhn, who was ambitious.\n\n\n \"Straw for a new roof on my hut,\" said one of the older females.\n\n\n \"That's enough for now,\" Neeshan interrupted. \"The demon can't bring\n you a tooter, Rhn—you have to ask another sort of demon for that. The\n other things he can get. Sammel, to work!\"\n\n\n The lizard in the parallelogram twitched its tail. It disappeared, and\n returned almost immediately with melons, a handsome necklace, and an\n enormous heap of straw.\n\n\n \"Can I go now?\" it asked.\n\n\n \"Yes.\" Neeshan turned to the Free'l, who were sharing the dyla melons\n out around their circle. \"You see?\nThat's\nhow it ought to be. You\n cast a spell. You're careful with it. And it works. Right away.\"\n\n\n \"When you do it, it works,\" Rhn answered.\n\n\n \"Magic works when\nanybody\ndoes it. But you have to do it right.\"\n\n\n Rhn raised his mud-plastered shoulders in a shrug. \"It's such a lot\n of dreeze, doing it that way. Magic ought to be fun.\" He walked away,\n munching on a slice of the melon the demon had brought.\n\n\n Neeshan stared after him, his eyes hot. \"Dreeze\" was a Free'l word that\n referred originally to the nasal drip that accompanied that race's\n virulent head colds. It had been extended to mean almost anything\n annoying. The Free'l, who spent much of their time sitting in the rain,\n had a lot of colds in the head.\n\n\n Wasn't there anything to be done with these people? Even the simplest\n spell was too dreezish for them to bother with.\n\n\n He was getting a headache. He'd better perform a headache-removing\n spell.\n\n\n He retired to the hut the Free'l had assigned to him. The spell worked,\n of course, but it left him feeling soggy and dispirited. He was still\n standing in the hut, wondering what he should do next, when his big\n black-and-gold tooter in the corner gave a faint \"woof.\" That meant\n headquarters wanted to communicate with him.\n\n\n Neeshan carefully aligned the tooter, which is basically a sort of lens\n for focusing neural force, with the rising double suns. He moved his\n couch out into a parallel position and lay down on it. In a minute or\n two he was deep in a cataleptic trance.\n\n\n The message from headquarters was long, circuitous, and couched in the\n elaborate, ego-caressing ceremonial of high magic, but its gist was\n clear enough.\n\n\n \"Your report received,\" it boiled down to. \"We are glad to hear that\n you are keeping on with the Free'l. We do not expect you to succeed\n with them—none of the other magical missionaries we have sent out ever\n has. But if you\nshould\nsucceed, by any chance, you would get your\n senior warlock's rating immediately. It would be no exaggeration, in\n fact, to say that the highest offices in the Brotherhood would be open\n to you.\"\nNeeshan came out of his trance. His eyes were round with wonder and\n cupidity. His senior warlock's rating—why, he wasn't due to get that\n for nearly four more six hundred-and-five-day years. And the highest\n offices in the Brotherhood—that could mean anything. Anything! He\n hadn't realized the Brotherhood set such store on converting the\n Free'l. Well, now, a reward like that was worth going to some trouble\n for.\n\n\n Neeshan sat down on his couch, his elbows on his knees, his fists\n pressed against his forehead, and tried to think.\n\n\n The Free'l liked magic, but they were lazy. Anything that involved\n accuracy impressed them as dreezish. And they didn't want anything.\n That was the biggest difficulty. Magic had nothing to offer them. He\n had never, Neeshan thought, heard one of the Free'l express a want.\n\n\n Wait, though. There was Rhn.\n\n\n He had shown a definite interest in Neeshan's tooter. Something in its\n intricate, florid black-and-gold curves seemed to fascinate him. True,\n he hadn't been interested in it for its legitimate uses, which were to\n extend and develop a magician's spiritual power. He probably thought\n that having it would give him more prestige and influence among his\n people. But for one of the Free'l to say \"I wish I had that\" about\n anything whatever meant that he could be worked on. Could the tooter be\n used as a bribe?\n\n\n Neeshan sighed heavily. Getting a tooter was painful and laborious. A\n tooter was carefully fitted to an individual magician's personality; in\n a sense, it was a part of his personality, and if Neeshan let Rhn have\n his tooter, he would be letting him have a part of himself. But the\n stakes were enormous.\n\n\n Neeshan got up from his couch. It had begun to rain, but he didn't want\n to spend time performing a rain-repelling spell. He wanted to find Rhn.\n\n\n Rhn was standing at the edge of the swamp, luxuriating in the downpour.\n The mud had washed from his shoulders, and he was already sniffling.\n Neeshan came to the point directly.\n\n\n \"I'll give you my tooter,\" he said, almost choking over the words, \"if\n you'll do a spell—a simple spell, mind you—exactly right.\"\n\n\n Rhn hesitated. Neeshan felt an impulse to kick him. Then he said,\n \"Well....\"\n\n\n Neeshan began his instructions. It wouldn't do for him to help Rhn too\n directly, but he was willing to do everything reasonable. Rhn listened,\n scratching himself in the armpits and sneezing from time to time.\n\n\n After Neeshan had been through the directions twice, Rhn stopped him.\n \"No, don't bother telling me again—it's just more dreeze. Give me the\n materials and I'll show you. Don't forget, you're giving me the tooter\n for this.\"\nHe started off, Neeshan after him, to the latter's hut. While Neeshan\n looked on tensely, Rhn began going through the actions Neeshan had\n told him. Half-way through the first decad, he forgot. He inverted\n the order of the hand-passes, sprinkled salt on the wrong point, and\n mispronounced the names in the invocation. When he pulled his hands\n apart at the end, only a tiny yellow flame sprang up.\n\n\n Neeshan cursed bitterly. Rhn, however, was delighted. \"Look at that,\n will you!\" he exclaimed, clapping his chapped, scabby little hands\n together. \"It worked! I'll take the tooter home with me now.\"\n\n\n \"The tooter? For\nthat\n? You didn't do the spell right.\"\n\n\n Rhn stared at him indignantly. \"You mean, you're not going to give me\n the tooter after all the trouble I went to? I only did it as a favor,\n really. Neeshan, I think it's very mean of you.\"\n\n\n \"Try the spell again.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, dreeze. You're too impatient. You never give anything time to\n work.\"\n\n\n He got up and walked off.\n\n\n For the next few days, everybody in the village avoided Neeshan. They\n all felt sorry for Rhn, who'd worked so hard, done everything he was\n told to, and been cheated out of his tooter by Neeshan. In the end\n the magician, cursing his own weakness, surrendered the tooter to\n Rhn. The accusatory atmosphere in the normally indifferent Free'l was\n intolerable.\n\n\n But now what was he to do? He'd given up his tooter—he had to ask\n Rhn to lend it to him when he wanted to contact headquarters—and the\n senior rating was no nearer than before. His head ached constantly,\n and all the spells he performed to cure the pain left him feeling\n wretchedly tired out.\n\n\n Magic, however, is an art of many resources, not all of them savory.\n Neeshan, in his desperation, began to invoke demons more disreputable\n than those he would ordinarily have consulted. In effect, he turned for\n help to the magical underworld.\n\n\n His thuggish informants were none too consistent. One demon told him\n one thing, another something else. The consensus, though, was that\n while there was nothing the Free'l actually wanted enough to go to any\n trouble for it (they didn't even want to get rid of their nasal drip,\n for example—in a perverse way they were proud of it), there\nwas\none\n thing they disliked intensely—Neeshan himself.\n\n\n The Free'l thought, the demons reported, that he was inconsiderate,\n tactless, officious, and a crashing bore. They regarded him as the\n psychological equivalent of the worst case of dreeze ever known,\n carried to the nth power. They wished he'd drop dead or hang himself.\n\n\n Neeshan dismissed the last of the demons. His eyes had begun to shine.\n The Free'l thought he was a nuisance, did they? They thought he was the\n most annoying thing they'd encountered in the course of their racial\n history? Good. Fine. Splendid. Then he'd\nreally\nannoy them.\n\n\n He'd have to watch out for poison, of course. But in the end, they'd\n turn to magic to get rid of him. They'd have to. And then he'd have\n them. They'd be caught.\n\n\n One act of communal magic that really worked and they'd be sold on\n magic. He'd be sure of his senior rating.\nNeeshan began his campaign immediately. Where the Free'l were, there\n was he. He was always on hand with unwanted explanations, hypercritical\n objections, and maddening \"wouldn't-it-be-betters.\"\n\n\n Whereas earlier in his evangelical mission he had confined himself to\n pointing out how much easier magic would make life for the Free'l, he\n now counciled and advised them on every phase of their daily routine,\n from mud-smearing to rain-sitting, and from the time they got up until\n they went to bed. He even pursued them with advice\nafter\nthey got\n into bed, and told them how to run their sex lives—advice which the\n Free'l, who set quite as much store by their sex lives as anybody does,\n resented passionately.\n\n\n But most of all he harped on their folly in putting up with nasal drip,\n and instructed them over and over again in the details of a charm—a\n quite simple charm—for getting rid of it. The charm would, he informed\n them, work equally well against anything—\nor person\n—that they found\n annoying.\n\n\n The food the Free'l brought him began to have a highly peculiar taste.\n Neeshan grinned and hung a theriacal charm, a first-class antidote\n to poison, around his neck. The Free'l's distaste for him bothered\n him, naturally, but he could stand it. When he had repeated the\n anti-annoyance charm to a group of Free'l last night, he had noticed\n that Rhn was listening eagerly. It wouldn't be much longer now.\n\n\n On the morning of the day before the equinox, Neeshan was awakened from\n sleep by an odd prickling sensation in his ears. It was a sensation\n he'd experienced only once before in his life, during his novitiate,\n and it took him a moment to identify it. Then he realized what it was.\n Somebody was casting a spell against him.\n\n\n At last! At last! It had worked!\n\n\n Neeshan put on his robe and hurried to the door of the hut. The day\n seemed remarkably overcast, almost like night, but that was caused by\n the spell. This one happened to involve the optic nerves.\n\n\n He began to grope his way cautiously toward the village center. He\n didn't want the Free'l to see him and get suspicious, but he did want\n to have the pleasure of seeing them cast their first accurate spell.\n (He was well protected against wind-damage from it, of course.) When\n he was almost at the center, he took cover behind a hut. He peered out.\n\n\n They were doing it\nright\n. Oh, what a satisfaction! Neeshan felt his\n chest expand with pride. And when the spell worked, when the big wind\n swooped down and blew him away, the Free'l would certainly receive a\n second magical missionary more kindly. Neeshan might even come back,\n well disguised, himself.\n\n\n The ritual went on. The dancers made three circles to the left,\n three circles to the right. Cross over, and all sprinkle salt on the\n interstices of the star Rhn had traced on the ground with the point of\n a knife. Back to the circle. One to the left, one to right, while Rhn,\n in the center of the circle, dusted over the salt with—with\nwhat\n?\n\n\n \"Hey!\" Neeshan yelled in sudden alarm. \"Not brimstone! Watch out!\n You're not doing it ri—\"\n\n\n His chest contracted suddenly, as if a large, stony hand had seized\n his thorax above the waist. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think,\n he couldn't even say \"Ouch!\" It felt as if his chest—no, his whole\n body—was being compressed in on itself and turning into something as\n hard as stone.\n\n\n He tried to wave his tiny, heavy arms in a counter-charm; he couldn't\n even inhale. The last emotion he experienced was one of bitterness. He\n might have\nknown\nthe Free'l couldn't get anything right.\nThe Free'l take a dim view of the small stone image that now stands in\n the center of their village. It is much too heavy for them to move, and\n while it is not nearly so much of a nuisance as Neeshan was when he was\n alive, it inconveniences them. They have to make a detour around it\n when they do their magic dances.\n\n\n They still hope, though, that the spells they are casting to get rid of\n him will work eventually. If he doesn't go away this autumn, he will\n the autumn after next. They have a good deal of faith in magic, when\n you come right down to it. And patience is their long suit.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Neeshan with the Free'l?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_1", "options": ["To study the demons that lived there", "To learn magic from them", "To evangelize magic to them", "To hide from his headquarters"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why were the Free'l unable to perform magic?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_2", "options": ["Neeshan was teaching them wrong on purpose", "They were not accurate enough with the steps", "They did not posses any magical ability", "They could not read the instructions that Neeshan wrote for them"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What made teaching magic to the Free'l difficult?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_3", "options": ["They did not want many things", "They were lazy", "All of the other choices are correct", "They were innaccurate"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was Neeshan willing to continue to try to teach the Free'l?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_4", "options": ["It was his punishment for committing a crime", "He thought that the Free'l were right on the verge of a breakthrough", "He would receive a promotion as a wizard extremely early", "He would be allowed to return to headquarters"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did the Free'l use the word \"Dreeze\" for?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_5", "options": ["Magic", "Unintelligent people", "Demons", "Inconveniences"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Neeshan originally use his tooter for?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_6", "options": ["As a weapon", "Contacting the magical headquarters", "To conduct his magic spells", "To impress the Free'l"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was Neeshan able to use as a motivation to convince the Free'l to finally learn magic?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_7", "options": ["Dyla melons", "New huts for the Free'l", "Getting rid of Neeshan himself", "Every Free'l getting their own tooter"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why did Neeshan give his tooter to Rhn?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_8", "options": ["Peer-pressure by the Free'l", "Neeshan no longer needed the tooter", "Rhn stole it ", "Rhn performed a spell perfectly "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How was Neeshan made aware that the Free'l were succesfully using magic?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_9", "options": ["Rhn showed him that he could use magic", "He was teleported away by the Free'l", "He felt something in his ears", "Headquarters contacted him and told him"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Neeshan turned to stone at the end of the story?", "question_unique_id": "60745_RWAY1IZC_10", "options": ["Neeshan accidentally turned himself to stone with a spell gone wrong", "The Free'l turned him to stone on purpose as retaliation", "Headquarters turned him to stone as punishment for his failure", "The Free'l turned him to stone by accident"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/0/7/4/60745//60745-h//60745-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "99905", "set_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "Going off track", "year": 2016, "author": "Christopher Beanland", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "Going off track\nBirmingham's airport isn't like other airports. Right at the north-western end of runway 15 there's a country park and a row of benches. You'll see families picnicking here, enjoying the subsonic spectacle of planes from Brussels, Bucharest and Barcelona roaring just feet overhead on their final approach. Birmingham isn't like other British cities – it fetishises the technical and promotes the new. It is unstinting in its thrall to evolution and unsentimental about erasing past versions of the future in its rush to create new ones; the comprehensive 1960s vision of the city which itself swept away a century's Victoriana is currently being meticulously taken apart concrete slab by concrete slab. The city's motto is 'Forward'. \n\n When you get to a certain age you realise how much more visions of the future say about the present they're concocted in than the actual future they purport to show us hurtling towards. A track in the air, sitting on top of concrete legs that couldn't look any more like rational new humans striding into a technocratic promised land if they tried, will always evoke a kind of nostalgia for the 20th century. You think of the SAFEGE monorail depicted in Truffaut's 1966 film adaptation of Fahrenheit 451; and of regional news reporters with greasy barnets delivering excited pieces to camera about big plans. \n\n Today, on the elevated track that gambols over windswept car parks and threads through cheap motels between Birmingham's airport terminal and the railway station, a simple, ski resort-style people-mover system ferries passengers from plane to train. Three decades ago it was so much more exciting: the world's first commercial maglev, or magnetic levitation, system ran along here.\nOpened in 1984, the Birmingham Maglev came at the very tail end of a\ntrente glorieuses\nfor British transport technology and, more broadly, European engineering; an era that promised so much yet eventually bequeathed so many relics and ruins. \n\n The modernism of the 20th century, expressed especially in architecture and engineering, seemed like nothing less than the founding of a new order. Progress was to be continual, unstoppable and good. Yet today the physical and philosophical advances are being gradually taken apart and retracted, as if we'd woken up sweating and feared we'd somehow overreached ourselves.  \n\n When the Birmingham Maglev was shuttered in 1995, one of the cars was dumped in a hedge near the A45. Furniture maker and transport enthusiast Andy Jones splashed out a mere £100 for it on eBay in 2011 (although, he says, \"it cost me £400 to get it out of the hedge!\"). Now it sits in a field behind Jones's house in Burton Green, a couple of miles east of the airport in the rolling Warwickshire countryside.\nI reminisce to Jones about my boyhood excitement for the Birmingham Maglev, about the silly enthusiasm I felt when I got to go on it in the late 80s. He shared the experience. \"I used it in the old days too,\" he says. \"I'd ride backwards and forwards on it, I thought it was smashing.\" \n\n \"The problem was, it was the end of one lot of technology. The first time it snowed, all hell broke loose! It had a ratcheting mechanism, a primitive form of winch. Beneath that was the hydraulic system. It was lifted up by the magnetic field (under the [car] are steel sheets). But you'd use the hydraulic system to pull it back up on to the system if it broke.\" \n\n Bob Gwynne, associate curator of collections and research at the National Rail Museum in York, says: \"British Rail's Derby Research Centre, founded in 1964, was arguably the world's leading rail research facility when it was in full operation. An understanding of the wheel and rail interface comes from there, as does the first tilting train, a new railbus, high-speed freight wagons, computer-controlled interlocking of track and signal, the first successful maglev and many other things.\" Gwynne has got the second of the three Birmingham Maglev cars at the museum.\nThe maglev was a development that spun out of this research at Derby, and developed in a joint project with a private consortium that included the now-defunct General Electric Company. The maglev cars were built by Metro Cammell at its factory four miles from the airport in Washwood Heath. It was the same place many tube carriages came from, and if you look down the doors on Piccadilly line carriages as you get on and off, you can see a cheery 1973 plaque reminding travellers of this fact (the cheeky Brummie assumption here being that London commuters always look at the floor). \n\n But the British maglev never really took off. Tim Dunn, transport historian and co-presenter of the BBC's Trainspotting Live, explains why. \"The early 80s was still a time of great British national-funded engineering,\" he says. \"Success at Birmingham Airport would have been a great advert for British Rail Engineering Limited (BREL) to sell maglev internationally. (Remember that BREL was always trying to sell its technology overseas, which is why several Pacer trains, developed on bus bodies, were sold to Iran.) Birmingham's Maglev only lasted 11 years: replacement parts were getting hard to obtain for what was really a unique system. Buses took over, and eventually a cable-hauled SkyRail people-mover was installed atop the piers. That's not as exciting for people like me, who like the idea of being whisked in a hovertrain pushed along by magnets. But then our real transport future always has been a pretty crap approximation of our dreams.\"\nYou don't have to look far to find other relics of this white-hot time when post-war confidence begat all sorts of oddities. There's the test track for the French Aerotrain outside Orleans – a rocket-powered prototype that never made it to middle age. And in Emsland, the German conglomerate Transrapid built a 32km supersized test track for their maglev, which seemed to be on course for success. A variation of this train shuttles passengers from Shanghai to the airport, and the plan was to copy the same model in Munich, and even build an intercity line from Berlin to Hamburg. Today the test track stands idle awaiting its fate, while the Transrapid vehicles are up for auction; a museum in Erfurt is trying to save the latter from the scrapyard. Little remains of Germany's other maglev, the M-Bahn (or Magnetbahn), a short-lived shuttle service that ran in West Berlin from 1989-91 connecting stations whose service had been previously severed by the Berlin Wall. With the Wall gone, the old U-Bahn service was reinstated and the M-Bahn, which had run along its tracks, disappeared from the capital of the new Germany. \n\n \"The problem with high-speed maglev like Transrapid in Germany,\" says Tim Dunn, \"is that it doesn't really stack up against high-speed rail. It's more expensive, it's lower capacity, it's more complex. There's a gap in the market, but there's no market in the gap. What is needed generally in mass transit is more capacity, rather than super high speed.\"\nBut back in the post-war period, we thought we could have everything. Britain's tertiary science departments expanded. We built the Comet jetliner, then Concorde; and concrete buildings to house them that the world envied, like the huge Heathrow hangar that Sir Owen Williams, primarily an engineer, designed for BOAC's planes; and architect James Stirling's much-lauded engineering faculty at Leicester University. Yet a little-known footnote from this period involves the interaction of magnets in high-speed train design with that other British invention that prevailed for a while but then seemed to peter out: the hovercraft. \n\n \"We have always wanted to get rid of wheels,\" says Railworld's Brian Pearce. \"One invention [to this end] was Chris Cockerell's hovercraft.\" At the same time, maglev technology was being developed by the British inventor, Eric Laithwaite, who was working on the linear induction motor at Imperial College when he found a way for it to produce lift as well as forward thrust. The two systems were combined to form a tracked hovercraft. \"So along came RTV31,\" says Pearce. \"The train rode along the track on a cushion of air created by big electric fans. Not very energy efficient! The forward motion was created by a linear motor, which moved along rather than going round and round.\"\nRTV31 could, like France's Aérotrain or the German Transrapid system, have been a viable new form of intercity travel. But funding was insufficient throughout the project and eventually Britain pulled the plug. In February 1973, a week after the first test RTV31 hovertrain reached 157km/h, the project was abandoned as part of wider budget cuts. \n\n There's an eerie reminder of the RTV31 in the big-skied, liminal lands of East Anglia. The train was tested on a track that ran up alongside the New Bedford River at Earith in Cambridgeshire: appropriate, because this 'river' is actually a supreme piece of man-made engineering from an earlier age, a dead-straight dyke dug by Dutchman Cornelius Vermuyden to drain the fens in the 1600s. The RTV31 test-track piers endure as further reminders of a past future. The vehicle itself sits not far away at Peterborough's Railworld, where its colourful exterior is strikingly visible to today's travellers on the East Coast Main Line from London to Scotland. Its neighbour is the final redundant Birmingham Maglev car.\nIn the far east, attitudes to maglev are different. Japan began maglev testing at roughly the same time as Britain in 1962 and is today building the longest, fastest maglev in the world. It will run mostly in tunnel, at 500km/h, taking a shocking 40 minutes to travel the 300km between Tokyo and Nagoya. It's been christened the Chūō Shinkansen: just another, faster type of bullet train for the central districts. Japan's system is a superconducting maglev, different to the Birmingham and German systems. It uses superconducting coils in the train, which cause repulsion to move the train forward. The Japanese also use wheels for the vehicle to 'land' on the track at low speeds. \n\n It's understandable that most serious interest in maglev deployment is in Asia – Japan, China, India,\" says John Harding, former chief maglev scientist for the US Department of Transportation. \"This is understandable wherever passenger traffic is huge and can dilute the enormous capital cost. (Maglev is indisputably more expensive upfront than high-speed rail.) Even for California, which has huge air passenger traffic between LA and San Francisco, there is nowhere near enough demand to justify maglev; probably not enough to justify high-speed rail. But the Chūō Shinkansen will probably be the greatest success for maglev.\" The first link between Tokyo and Nagoya is scheduled to begin operation in 2027. Then the Chinese are proposing a 600km/h system between Shanghai and Beijing.\nSo there are still some people dreaming big. The latest iteration of this is of course Hyperloop, whose vacuum tube technology harks back to another British engineering innovation: the atmospheric railway, which was developed by Henry Pinkus, the Samuda Brothers and eventually by Isambard Kingdom Brunel. This technology used varying air pressure to suck trains up a track in a partial vacuum. Lines popped up in London, Dublin and most notably Brunel's South Devon Railway, where the pipes were plagued by nibbling rats but the pumping stations survive as relics of Victorian visionaries. If those systems looked like something from HG Wells, with men in top hats smoking cigars, then Hyperloop, with its internet age funding from Tesla founder Elon Musk, could well end up appearing as a very 2010s caper when we look at back on it from the distance of decades. Or maybe Hyperloop will revolutionise travel like maglev was supposed to. \n\n Back in Burton Green, Andy Jones's maglev car lies in limbo. \"I'd like to build a platform around it,\" he says, \"turn it into a playhouse for the grandchildren perhaps? A couple of people want to take it away and turn it into a cafe.\" Perversely perhaps, its fate may be decided by another type of transport technology: more conventional high speed rail. The route for the much-disputed High Speed 2 line from London to Birmingham slices right through the field where the maglev car sits.  \n\n In the 2000s the UK Ultraspeed proposal was floated to link London, Birmingham, the North and Scotland by maglev. It never materialised. HS2 was the eventual successor to the Ultraspeed plan, though a less futuristic one. Jones has another idea for his forward moving relic: \"Maybe I'll turn it into viewing platform, so you could watch HS2's outdated technology.\"\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why did Birmingham build over the Victorian era relics?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_1", "options": ["To create space for a Maglev train", "To erase their history", "They were running out of room ", "To make technological progress"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did Andy Jones end up with a Maglev car?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_2", "options": ["He stole it from the track", "He found it in a hedge", "He purchased it online", "He was gifted it by Birmingham Maglev"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did the Maglev trains not become popular in the western hemisphere?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_3", "options": ["People did not like traveling so fast", "The technology was unreliable", "Their cost was not justifiable", "All of the other answers are correct"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where was the leading rail research happening in the 1960's?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_4", "options": ["France", "Germany", "New York", "Britain"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the main necessity in mass public transit?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_5", "options": ["Higher speed of travel", "Convenience of station locations", "Increased number of passengers", "Low cost of operation"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What other British inventions during the post-war period used the same technologies at the maglev trains?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_6", "options": ["Hovercrafts", "Atomic bombs", "BOAC planes", "Comet jetliners"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the main factor that makes maglev trains more successful in Asia?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_7", "options": ["More efficient organization of construction projects", "A greater importance on speed of travel", "Increased passenger volume", "More accurate train schedules"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author think the next possible advancement in public transit could be?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_8", "options": ["Atmospheric Railways", "Hovertrains", "Hyperloop technology", "Supersonic Jets"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Andy Jones plan to do with his maglev railcar?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_9", "options": ["Keep it on his property", "Sell it for a profit", "Return it to Birmingham Maglev", "Restore it to working condition"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did Britain decide to build instead of a maglev track?", "question_unique_id": "99905_QYORRUOH_10", "options": ["A conventional high-speed rail", "An atmospheric railway", "A Hyperloop station", "More airports and bus stations"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/machines/whither-british-maglev", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99922", "set_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-freesouls", "title": "Participative Pedagogy for a Literacy of Literacies", "year": null, "author": "Howard Rheingold", "topic": "Essay", "article": "Participative Pedagogy for a Literacy of Literacies\nPeople act and learn together for a rich mixture of reasons. The current\n story that most of us tell ourselves about how humans get things done is\n focused on the well-known flavors of self-interest, which make for great\n drama−survival, power, wealth, sex, glory. People also do things\n together for fun, for the love of a challenge, and because we sometimes\n enjoy working together to make something beneficial to everybody. If I\n had to reduce the essence of Homo sapiens to five words, “people do\n complicated things together” would do. Online social networks can be\n powerful amplifiers of collective action precisely because they augment\n and extend the power of ever-complexifying human sociality. To be sure,\n gossip, conflict, slander, fraud, greed and bigotry are part of human\n sociality, and those parts of human behavior can be amplified, too. But\n altruism, fun, community and curiosity are also parts of human\n sociality−and I propose that the Web is an existence proof that these\n capabilities can be amplified, as well. Indeed, our species’ social\n inventiveness is central to what it is to be human. The parts of the\n human brain that evolved most recently, and which are connected to what\n we consider to be our “higher” faculties of reason and forethought, are\n also essential to social life. The neural information-processing\n required for recognizing people, remembering their reputations, learning\n the rituals that remove boundaries of mistrust and bind groups together,\n from bands to communities to civilizations, may have been enabled by\n (and may have driven the rapid evolution of) that uniquely human brain\n structure, the neocortex.\nBut I didn’t start out by thinking about the evolutionary dynamics of\n sociality and the amplification of collective action. Like all of the\n others in this book, I started out by experiencing the new ways of being\n that Internet social media have made possible. And like the other\n Freesouls, Joi Ito has played a catalytic, communitarian,\n Mephistophelian, Pied-Piper-esque, authority-challenging, fun-loving\n role in my experiences of the possibilities of life online.\nFriends and Enthusiasts\nTo me, direct experience of what I later came to call virtual\n communities preceded theories about the ways people\n do things together online. I met Joi Ito in the 1980s as part of what we\n called “the Electronic Networking Association,” a small group of\n enthusiasts who thought that sending black and white text to BBSs with\n 1200 baud modems was fun. Joi, like Stewart Brand, was and is what Fred\n Turner calls a network entrepreneur, who\n occupies what Ronald Burt would call key structural roles−what\n Malcolm Gladwell called a connector.  Joi was also a\n believer in going out and doing things and not just talking about it.\nJoi was one of the founders of a multicultural BBS in Tokyo, and in the\n early 1990s I had begun to branch out from BBSs and the WELL to\n make connections in many different parts of the world. The fun of\n talking, planning, debating and helping each other online came before\n the notion that our tiny subculture might grow into a worldwide,\n many-to-many, multimedia network of a billion people.  We started to\n dream about future cybersocial possibilities only after personally\n experiencing something new, moving and authentic in our webs of budding\n friendship and collaboration. In recent years, cyberculture studies has\n grown into a discipline−more properly, an interdiscipline involving\n sociologists, anthropologists, historians, psychologists, economists,\n programmers and political scientists. Back when people online argued in\n 1200 baud text about whether one could properly call what we were doing\n a form of community, there was no body of empirical evidence to serve as\n a foundation for scientific argument−all theory was anecdotal. By now,\n however, there is plenty of data.\nOne particularly useful affordance of online sociality is that a great\n deal of public behavior is recorded and structured in a way that makes\n it suitable for systematic study. One effect of the digital Panopticon\n is the loss of privacy and the threat of tyrannical social control;\n another effect is a rich body of data about online behavior. Every one\n of Wikipedia’s millions of edits, and all the discussion and talk pages\n associated with those edits, is available for inspection−along with\n billions of Usenet messages. Patterns are beginning to emerge. We’re\n beginning to know something about what works and what doesn’t work with\n people online, and why.\nDoes knowing something about the way technical architecture influences\n behavior mean that we can put that knowledge to use? Now that we are\n beginning to learn a little about the specific sociotechnical\n affordances of online social networks, is it possible to derive a\n normative design? How should designers think about the principles of\n beneficial social software? Can inhumane or dehumanizing effects of\n digital socializing be mitigated or eliminated by better media design?\n In what ways does the design of social media enable or prevent heartfelt\n communitas, organized collective action, social capital, cultural and\n economic production? I’ve continued to make a direct experience of my\n life online−from lifelong friends like Joi Ito to the other people\n around the world I’ve come to know, because online media made it\n possible to connect with people who shared my interests, even if I had\n never heard of them before, even if they lived on the other side of the\n world. But in parallel with my direct experience of the blogosphere,\n vlogosphere, twitterverse and other realms of digital discourse, I’ve\n continued to track new research and theory about what cyberculture might\n mean and the ways in which online communication media influence and are\n shaped by social forces.\nThe Values of Volunteers\nOne of the first questions that arose from my earliest experiences\n online was the question of why people in online communities should spend\n so much time answering each other’s questions, solving each other’s\n problems, without financial compensation. I first encountered Yochai\n Benkler in pursuit of my curiosity about the reason people would work\n together with strangers, without pay, to create something nobody\n owns−free and open source software. First in Coase’s Penguin, and\n then in The Wealth of Networks, Benkler contributed to important\n theoretical foundations for a new way of thinking about online\n activity−”commons based peer production,” technically made possible by a\n billion PCs and Internet connections−as a new form of organizing\n economic production, together with the market and the firm. If Benkler\n is right, the new story about how humans get things done includes an\n important corollary−if tools like the PC and the Internet make it easy\n enough, people are willing to work together for non-market incentives to\n create software, encyclopedias and archives of public domain literature.\n While the old story is that people are highly unlikely to\n cooperate with strangers to voluntarily create public goods, the new\n story seems to be that people will indeed create significant common\n value voluntarily, if it is easy enough for anybody to add what they\n want, whenever they want to add it (“self election”). There is plenty of\n evidence to support the hypothesis that what used to be considered\n altruism is now a byproduct of daily life online. So much of what we\n take for granted as part of daily life online, from the BIND software\n that makes domain names work, to the Apache webserver that powers a\n sizable chunk of the world’s websites, to the cheap Linux servers that\n Google stacks into its global datacloud, was created by volunteers who\n gave their creations away to make possible something larger−the Web as\n we know it.\nTo some degree, the explosion of creativity that followed the debut of\n the Web in 1993 was made possible by deliberate design decisions on the\n part of the Internet’s architects−the end-to-end principle, built into\n the TCP/IP protocols that make the Internet possible, which deliberately\n decentralizes the power to innovate, to build something new and even\n more powerful on what already exists. Is it possible to understand\n exactly what it is about the web that makes Wikipedia, Linux,\n FightAIDS@Home, the Gutenberg Project and Creative Commons possible? And\n if so, can this theoretical knowledge be put to practical use? I am\n struck by a phrase of Benkler’s from his essay in this book: “We must\n now turn our attention to building systems that support human\n sociality.” That sounds right. But how would it be done? It’s easy to\n say and not as easy to see the ways in which social codes and power\n structures mold the design of communication media. We must develop a\n participative pedagogy, assisted by digital media and networked publics,\n that focuses on catalyzing, inspiring, nourishing, facilitating, and\n guiding literacies essential to individual and collective life.\nA Participative Pedagogy\nTo accomplish this attention-turning, we must develop a participative\n pedagogy, assisted by digital media and networked publics, that focuses\n on catalyzing, inspiring, nourishing, facilitating, and guiding\n literacies essential to individual and collective life in the 21st\n century. Literacies are where the human brain, human sociality and\n communication technologies meet. We’re accustomed to thinking about the\n tangible parts of communication media−the devices and networks−but the\n less visible social practices and social affordances, from the alphabet\n to TCP/IP, are where human social genius can meet the augmenting power\n of technological networks. Literacy is the most important method Homo\n sapiens has used to introduce systems and tools to other humans, to\n train each other to partake of and contribute to culture, and to\n humanize the use of instruments that might otherwise enable\n commodification, mechanization and dehumanization. By literacy, I mean,\n following on Neil Postman and others, the set of skills that enable\n individuals to encode and decode knowledge and power via speech,\n writing, printing and collective action, and which, when learned,\n introduce the individual to a community. Literacy links technology and\n sociality. The alphabet did not cause the Roman Empire, but made it\n possible. Printing did not cause democracy or science, but literate\n populations, enabled by the printing press, devised systems for citizen\n governance and collective knowledge creation. The Internet did not cause\n open source production, Wikipedia or emergent collective responses to\n natural disasters, but it made it possible for people to act together in\n new ways, with people they weren’t able to organize action with before,\n in places and at paces for which collective action had never been\n possible. Literacies are the prerequisite for the human agency that used\n alphabets, presses and digital networks to create wealth, alleviate\n suffering and invent new institutions. If the humans currently alive are\n to take advantage of digital technologies to address the most severe\n problems that face our species and the biosphere, computers, telephones\n and digital networks are not enough. We need new literacies around\n participatory media, the dynamics of cooperation and collective action,\n the effective deployment of attention and the relatively rational and\n critical discourse necessary for a healthy public sphere.\nMedia Literacies\nIn Using Participatory Media and Public Voice to Encourage Civic\n Engagement, I wrote:\nIf print culture shaped the environment in which the Enlightenment\n blossomed and set the scene for the Industrial Revolution,\n participatory media might similarly shape the cognitive and social\n environments in which twenty first century life will take place (a\n shift in the way our culture operates). For this reason, participatory\n media literacy is not another subject to be shoehorned into the\n curriculum as job training for knowledge workers.\nParticipatory media include (but aren’t limited to) blogs, wikis, RSS,\n tagging and social bookmarking, music-photo-video sharing, mashups,\n podcasts, digital storytelling, virtual communities, social network\n services, virtual environments, and videoblogs. These distinctly\n different media share three common, interrelated characteristics:\nMany-to-many media now make it possible for every person connected\n to the network to broadcast as well as receive text, images,\n audio, video, software, data, discussions, transactions,\n computations, tags, or links to and from every other person. The\n asymmetry between broadcaster and audience that was dictated by\n the structure of pre-digital technologies has changed radically.\n This is a technical- structural characteristic.\nParticipatory media are social media whose value and power derives\n from the active participation of many people. Value derives not\n just from the size of the audience, but from their power to link\n to each other, to form a public as well as a market. This is a\n psychological and social characteristic.\nSocial networks, when amplified by information and communication\n networks, enable broader, faster, and lower cost coordination\n of activities. This is an economic and political characteristic.\nLike the early days of print, radio, and television, the present\n structure of the participatory media regime−the political, economic,\n social and cultural institutions that constrain and empower the way\n the new medium can be used, and which impose structures on flows of\n information and capital−is still unsettled. As legislative and\n regulatory battles, business competition, and social institutions vie\n to control the new regime, a potentially decisive and presently\n unknown variable is the degree and kind of public participation.\n Because the unique power of the new media regime is precisely its\n participatory potential, the number of people who participate in using\n it during its formative years, and the skill with which they attempt\n to take advantage of this potential, is particularly salient.\nLike Yochai Benkler and Henry Jenkins, I believe that a\n participatory culture in which most of the population see themselves as\n creators as well as consumers of culture is far more likely to generate\n freedom and wealth for more people than one in which a small portion of\n the population produces culture that the majority passively consume. The\n technological infrastructure for participatory media has grown rapidly,\n piggybacking on Moore’s Law, globalization, the telecom bubble and the\n innovations of Swiss physicists and computer science\n students. Increasingly, access to that infrastructure−the ability to\n upload a Macaca video or uncover a threat to democracy−has become\n economically accessible. Literacy−access to the codes and communities of\n vernacular video, microblogging, social bookmarking, wiki\n collaboration−is what is required to use that infrastructure to create a\n participatory culture. A population with broadband infrastructure and\n ubiquitous computing could be a captive audience for a cultural\n monopoly, given enough bad laws and judicial rulings. A population that\n knows what to do with the tools at hand stands a better chance of\n resisting enclosure. The more people who know how to use participatory\n media to learn, inform, persuade, investigate, reveal, advocate and\n organize, the more likely the future infosphere will allow, enable and\n encourage liberty and participation. Such literacy can only make action\n possible, however−it is not in the technology, or even in the knowledge\n of how to use it, but in the ways people use knowledge and technology to\n create wealth, secure freedom, resist tyranny.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does the author think that social media has the power to amplify?", "question_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN_1", "options": ["Both Positive and Negative Social Behaviors", "Negative Social Interactions", "Antisocial Behaviors", "Positive Altruistic Behavior"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author argue is central to human evolution?", "question_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN_2", "options": ["Social invention", "Curiosity", "Self-interest", "Abstract thinking"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What was the earliest by date digital social communities mentioned by the Author?", "question_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN_3", "options": ["LINUX", "Electronic Networking Association", "Freesouls", "Wikipedia"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What makes digital social communities useful for scientific study?", "question_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN_4", "options": ["It costs less money to use participants of studies online", "There are fewer laws and regulations surrounding them", "There are large quantities of data associated with them", "They were recently invented and remain relatively unknown"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author think the technical design of online communities important?", "question_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN_5", "options": ["It can dictate how much money there is to be made from certain communities ", "It's important to always make progress when changing the designs", "It  can dictate whether or not users have positive or negative experiences", "Older social medias had much better designs that modern ones"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0043", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author find perplexing about many online communities?", "question_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN_6", "options": ["Why everyone doesn't use various online communities", "The governmental regulations surrounding online communities", "Why people help one another without compensation", "The technical happenings that allow the communities to work"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author imply is the biggest factor in humans collaborating with one another?", "question_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN_7", "options": ["Teaching people to speak and write the same language", "Financially incentivizing people", "Making communities more accessible", "Spending more time in smaller communities"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What type of media does the author believe will be the most influential on the immediate future?", "question_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN_8", "options": ["Government-approved media", "Visual media", "Participatory media", "Print media"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author define participatory media?", "question_unique_id": "99922_8K2STYPN_9", "options": ["When the media allows for audience response", "When the media consumers are also content creators", "When the media is broadcast by a small group of people for a large group", "Print, radio, and television"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "https://freesouls.cc/essays/03-howard-rheingold-participative-pedagogy-for-a-literacy-of-literacies.html", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://freesouls.cc"}
{"article_id": "99916", "set_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "Voting blocks", "year": 2016, "author": "Adam Greenfield", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "Voting blocks\nEven if your interest in global politics extends no further than an occasional worried glance at the headlines, it will not have escaped your notice that there's something in the air these past few years: a kind of comprehensive, worldwide souring of the possibilities of representative democracy. \n\n You might not have thought of it in just these terms, but you'll certainly recognise its effects: it has shown up in phenomena as varied and seemingly disconnected as the Brexit referendum, the candidacy of Donald Trump in the USA and the turn toward authoritarian parties and governments in France, Turkey, Hungary, the Philippines and elsewhere. This is, perhaps, the pre-eminent political story of our time. \n\n What all of these more recent developments have in common is the sense among a wide swath of the electorate, in country after country, that the conventional practice of democracy has failed them. It no longer expresses the will of the people, if it ever did, and now serves only the needs of distant, shadowy, unspecified elites. And as is so often the case, there is a grain of truth to this. \n\n Our democracies certainly do seem to be having a hard time reckoning with many profound crises, whether these involve the integration of refugees, the disappearance of work or the threats of climate change. Our existing ways of making collective decisions have conspicuously failed to help us develop policies equal to the scale of crisis. There really is a global 1 per cent, and they seem to be hell-bent on having themselves a new Gilded Age, even as the public services the rest of us depend on are stripped to the bone. Throw in the despair that sets in after many years of imposed austerity and it's no wonder that many people have had enough. \n\n Some voters, either impervious to the lessons of history, or certain that whatever comes, they'll wind up on top, seek the clarity and vigour of a strong hand. They are perhaps encouraged by authoritarian leaders abroad, with their own internal reasons for disparaging the practice of democracy and much to gain by undermining confidence in it. Other voters have no particular time for the right, but feel betrayed by the parties they once trusted to advance their class interest. When they look around and see that someone other than them is indeed profiting from the status quo, they lose all patience with the idea that redress can be found in the ballot box. They're willing to see their own house burned down, if that's what it takes to stick it to the despised elites that are suddenly, heedlessly gentrifying their neighbourhoods and 'decanting' them from their homes. \n\n These are certainly depressing responses to the situation we find ourselves in, but they're not in any way irrational. Yet there's another, more hopeful and interesting way of responding to this same set of facts. It argues that what we need now is more democracy, not less; and a new kind of democracy at that, one founded on technical means. This curious prospect is presented to us by modes of social organisation and self-governance based on the blockchain, the technology underlying the Bitcoin cryptocurrency. And though blockchain advocates are nowhere near as prominent as the neo-authoritarian tendencies everywhere around us, what they are arguing for – 'distributed consensus' – is so interesting and so utterly unlike anything that has gone before that it deserves our fullest and most serious consideration.\nWe're told that this emerging technology of 'distributed consensus' makes entirely new forms of human association possible; that anyone who wants to will be able to organise themselves into non-hierarchical groups with as much ability to act in the world as any state or corporation.  \n\n The idea is that governmental structures at just about every level of society would be replaced by voluntary associations represented as software. Participants in these groups could remain anonymous to one another, if desired. But their identities would be verified – and their votes authenticated – by the same processes that secure the Bitcoin network, meaning that a permanent, secure record of every vote ever taken would be available for all to see. As each of these groups would be able to dispose of fiscal resources directly, Porto Alegre-style participatory budgeting could be realised, at whatever scale required. And just like Bitcoin, all of this functionality would be distributed across the network, making it inherently resistant to attempts at state censorship or control.\nEnthusiasm for distributed consensus is especially marked on the left, and it's easy to understand why: you'd have a hard time intentionally designing language more likely to appeal to tech-savvy horizontalists than 'distributed consensus'. The phrase summons up images of a society organised as a supple network instead of a hierarchy, its far-flung and mobile constituents bound together by a guiding ethos of participation, and an immaterial but powerful calculated technology.\nThoughtful veterans of the post-2008 moment could be forgiven for thinking that, just maybe, here at last is a concrete way of achieving ends promised but never quite delivered by 15M, Occupy, Nuit Débout, or what has come to be known as the broader global 'movement of the squares': a commons outside the market and the state, a framework for democratic decision-making truly suited to the context of 21st-century life, and just possibly a functioning anarchy. \n\n This is certainly a supremely attractive vision, at least for those of us whose hearts beat a little bit faster at the prospect of ordinary people everywhere taking their fate into their own hands. In fact, there's really only one problem with it: it's all based on a misunderstanding.\nLet's back up a little. What, exactly, does distributed consensus mean? And what does it have to do with the new forms of democracy that might now be available to us? \n\n At a time when 'disruption' and 'disintermediation' remain potent words in the tech community, it was inevitable that someone would think to disrupt the way we organise civic life. Early experiments in digital democracy mostly confined themselves to tinkering in the mechanics of an otherwise conventional political process – working out, for example, how verified electronic voting might work. But more recent proposals, such as the \"distributed autonomous organisations\" pioneered by the Ethereum project, and the structurally similar Backfeed and democracy.earth initiatives, offer far more ambitious ideas of networked citizenship and decision-making. \n\n All three are based on the decentralised system of authentication that was originally developed for the Bitcoin cryptocurrency. The details of this mechanism are fiendishly difficult to understand, but its essence – and the innovation that so excites fans of networked democracy – is that it proves the legitimacy of Bitcoin transactions computationally, instead of relying on the authority of any government or banking institution. \n\n Everything rests on the blockchain, a permanent, transparent record of every exchange of Bitcoin ever made, an identical copy of which is held locally by every machine participating in the network. The blockchain maintains and reconciles all account balances, and is the sole arbiter in the event of a discrepancy or dispute. Whenever a new transaction appears on the Bitcoin network, all of its nodes perform an elaborate series of calculations aimed at validating it, and a majority of them must agree its legitimacy before it can be added to the shared record. This peer-to-peer process of distributed consensus can be applied beyond cryptocurrency to other situations that require some kind of procedure for the collective construction of truth.\nOne of these is communal decision-making, at every level from household to nation. So by extension distributed consensus could be applied to the practice of democracy. Moreover, frameworks based on the blockchain promise to solve a number of long-standing democratic problems. \n\n They give organisers the ability to form associations rapidly and equip them with clear, secure and answerable decision processes. Their provisions allow members of those associations to float proposals, raise points for discussion among their peers, and allow enough time for deliberation before a question is called to a vote. They seem well suited to address some of the limits and frustrations of the Occupy-style forum, chiefly its requirement that everyone sharing an interest be present at once in order to be counted. And by allowing an association to specify any decision rule it pleases – from simple majority to absolute consensus – these frameworks even seem as if they might address the distaste some of us have always harboured for the coercion implicit in any majoritarian process (many don't like the idea that they need to go along with a notion just because 52 per cent of the population voted for it). \n\n These systems would appear to be applicable to democracy, then. But more than that, they gesture beyond conventional politics, toward something not far off utopian. \n\n When I meet people who are genuinely excited by platforms like democracy.earth, Ethereum and Backfeed, most often what they're responding to is not so much about how these frameworks address the practicalities of small-group decision-making. They're more about the radical, classically anarchist vision they offer of a world in which power is distributed across a federation of nonhierarchical assemblies unsanctioned by any apparatus of state, each one lasting just long enough to enact its participants' will before evaporating for ever. \n\n And that's why it's little short of heartbreaking to conclude that their hopes stem from a confusion of language. \n\n There's a fair degree of slippage between the way we'd be likely to interpret 'distributed consensus' in a political context, and what the same phrase actually denotes in its proper, technical context. As it turns out, here the word 'consensus' doesn't have anything to do with that sense of common purpose nurtured among a group of people over the course of long and difficult negotiations. Rather, it is technical jargon: it simply refers to the process by which all of the computers participating in the Bitcoin network eventually come to agree that a given transaction is valid. Instead of being a technically mediated process of agreement among peers and equals separated from one another in space and time, it's actually just a reconciliation of calculations being performed by distant machines.  \n\n To mistake the one for the other is to commit a dangerous error.\nWhy dangerous? One of the primary risks we face in embracing blockchain-based structures is that we may not actually be advancing the set of values we think we are. The provisions that frameworks like Ethereum, Backfeed and democracy.earth are founded on, in particular, are difficult to reconcile with other values and commitments we may hold, especially the notion of a life in common.  \n\n An Ethereum distributed autonomous organisation, for example, requires that members buy shares in it in order to participate. This is necessitated by the reward structure that incentivises machines to perform the calculations that establish distributed consensus; but it seems curiously at odds with our understanding of political participation as an inalienable right. Ethereum democracies, too, have something most others do not: owners, someone empowered to add or remove voting members at will, set its binding decision rules, and change those rules whenever they desire. \n\n This is certainly a novel and interesting definition of a democracy. In fact, we find, on looking just a little more closely, that relations of property and ownership are absolutely central to this set of technologies – perhaps unsurprisingly, given its origins in the libertarian cryptocurrency community. This, for example, is how Ethereum founder Vitalik Buterin thinks of human association: \n\n \"In general, a human organisation can be defined as combination of two things: a set of property, and a protocol for a set of individuals, which may or may not be divided into certain classes with different conditions for entering or leaving the set, to interact with each other including rules for under what circumstances the individuals may use certain parts of the property.\" \n\n On closer inspection, this doesn't seem to have much to do with the practice of collective self-determination. And with a similar emphasis on property rights, the discourse around the blockchain also routinely treats as uncontroversial statements which are no such thing. The acceptance of these values runs so deep that when democracy.earth announced itself \"a Y Combinator-backed organisation\", nobody involved evidently wondered whether something which aspired to be a radical new way of doing politics should tout its backing by a venture-capital seed fund based in Silicon Valley. \n\n However utopian a politics of distributed consensus might sound to us, then, there's no way in which it can be prised apart from the entirely conventional constructions of ownership, private property and capital accumulation at its very heart, at least not in its present form. The profoundly murky quality of blockchain technology – and the relative lack of accessible but technically sophisticated resources that might explain it – thus causes some of us to endorse a set of propositions we'd otherwise recoil from. We criticise lack of government transparency, yet the blockchain is unfathomable to most people. \n\n Finally, too many of those touting distributed democracy retain a weirdly naive faith in the promises made about the blockchain's ability to transcend human fallibility, despite the well-known history of Bitcoin hacks, thefts and exploits. The founders of democracy.earth, for example, would have us believe that the blockchain is 'incorruptible', when, as all long-time observers of the cryptocurrency scene know, it's anything but. There is no better case in point than Ethereum's own networked democracy, a distributed venture fund rather confusingly called the DAO – Decentralised Autonomous Organisation – which was notoriously drained of a full third of its value by someone who evidently understood its coding better than its own originators. The Ethereum blockchain was subsequently 'hard forked' to undo this exploit, but only at the cost of angering that passionate fraction of their community convinced that distributed calculation could achieve what millennia of human law and custom had not. \n\n Though they may someday be robust enough to undergird decisions of genuine import, the experience of the DAO suggests that blockchain-based protocols are at present no more trustworthy than any of the less glamorous methods for assessing communal sentiment we already have at our disposal: the assembly, the discussion and the poll.\nThere's a long list of benefits that might follow from shifting civic life on to a networked platform. \n\n If people could participate in public life from their laptop (or smartphone, or gaming platform), we might be able to democratise democracy itself, in all sorts of salutary ways. We might fold in all those who, by dint of their work, childcare or family obligations, are too exhausted or pressed for time to attend a decision-making assembly, and prevent the common circumstance in which such an assembly is captured by a bad-faith participant with an axe to grind. We could avoid having to gather stakeholders in a given place and time to make decisions of common import, and allow people to participate in public life as and when they were able to. And we could apply to that participation all the tools that arise from being networked and digital, particularly the ability to capture and analyse detailed data about a matter up for discussion.  \n\n Under such circumstances, decisions could be compared between polities and jurisdictions, or with ones made locally in the past, and every aspect of a community's process of self-determination could be searchable, so available to all who might benefit. Over time, we might even learn to make wiser decisions, individually and collectively. Though the devil is always in the detail of implementation, these possibilities are all well worth exploring; and taken together they certainly furnish us with a strong case for networked democracy. \n\n But there are problems even with such relatively simple articulations of civic technology. Not everyone owns a smartphone, even now, let alone any more expensive networked devices. Just over 60 per cent of North Americans do, which falls far short of the universal access on which any system for networked democracy would need to be based. And technologists and advocates for new technology are often blind to the digital divide, which prevents measures that seem utterly obvious and self-evident to them from being at all suited to the lives of others. \n\n Transplanting democracy on to the blockchain is more problematic still, especially for those of us who aspire to a life broadly governed by the principles of the commons. When we dig beneath appealing-sounding buzzwords like 'peer-to-peer' and 'open source', we find that all of the current, real-world examples of blockchain technology commit us to a set of values that isn't merely at variance with those principles, but is outright inimical to them. (Our ignorance about how the blockchain actually works is an additional source of concern. When something is this complicated, this difficult for even very bright people to understand, it's inherently open to the greatest potential for abuse. The market in derivative securities comes to mind.) \n\n But maybe these are errors we can learn from. It's worth asking if some of the things the blockchain-based frameworks promise to do for us might be lifted whole out of the matrix of their origins.  \n\n They get a lot of things very right, after all – particularly their understanding that democracy is an ongoing process, and not something that happens in a voting booth on one day every four or five years. And by framing the practice of active citizenship as something appropriate to every scale of collective existence, they suggest that such participation should occupy a larger place in our civic lives; that we can and should assume control over a wider range of the circumstances of our being. \n\n By the same token, democratic practice is a subtle thing. It is possible to do a great deal of damage by applying it without due regard for its strengths and limitations – witness Brexit. So perhaps the most important thing we might seek to gain from our encounter with tools like Backfeed and democracy.earth is a lesson in what works at what scale and what doesn't. We could then design a generation of distributed collective decision processes that are straightforward enough to be understood by the people using them, and not beholden to profoundly interested notions of private advantage. Developing an infrastructure built from the ground up would be a great way of redeeming the hope that's already been invested in these systems, and it might even convince those who have become disillusioned with democracy that there's more life in the concept yet. Maybe it's time we got started.\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the author's general attitude toward the democratic process?", "question_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC_1", "options": ["They believe it does nothing", "They believe it could make both positive and negative impacts", "They believe it has the power to do great evil", "They believe it has the power to make positive change"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author see as the most concerning political movement in the current era", "question_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC_2", "options": ["Networked platform democracy", "Distributed consensus ", "Authoritarian governments ", "Blockchain-based voting"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author believe that radical government movements are taking hold?", "question_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC_3", "options": ["Blockchain-based distributed consensus governing processes are too difficult to understand", "Democracy has failed to accurately represent the will of the people in many ways", "The propaganda that people are exposed to on a daily basis is working", "It is a natural function of the evolution of human sociological interaction"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is meant by the term \"distributed consensus\"?", "question_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC_4", "options": ["The system of using electorates to represent the public's vote", "A basic income provided to the public in Cryptocurrency", "A coalition style government that requires cooperation between parties ", "Group decision making done in a non-hierarchical structure"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What classic issues of the democratic process could blockchain-based voting solve?", "question_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC_5", "options": ["Corruption of the physical voting process", "Authoritarian governments holding falsified elections", "Time constraints of the voting public", "Low public engagement in the voting process"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What issues does the Author see with blockchain-based democracy systems?", "question_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC_6", "options": ["The blockchain networks are not without their security flaws", "The blockchain frameworks have original owners that could have too much power", "The blockchain process is too confusing for the general public to understand", "All of the other answers are correct"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author argue as a main barrier to a digital democracy?", "question_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC_7", "options": ["Security and encryption issues", "Power consumption and environmental impact", "Technological literacy ", "Ownership of adequate digital devices"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author argue as a solution for solving the issues faced by modern-day democracy?", "question_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC_8", "options": ["Embracing blockchain-based voting technology as it is", "Returning to classical methods such as forums and polls", "Creating a brand new framework for collective decision-making", "Educating the public about the political process and its flaws"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author see as an integral aspect of an anarchist viewpoint?", "question_unique_id": "99916_ULFZL0CC_9", "options": ["The ability to remove voting members at will", "Lack of state or national delegation", "A desire for a peer to peer networked democracy", "Embracing distributed consensus created by blockchain"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://thelongandshort.org/machines/democracy-on-the-blockchain", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99915", "set_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "The forests bear the carbon", "year": 2016, "author": "Oscar Rickett", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "The forests bear the carbon\nAmogh Rai is standing on a small patch of wooded hillside, his Android phone held up above him, taking in the canopies of the trees that rise up around us. There's a problem though. It's a winter's day in the northern Indian foothills of the Himalayas, and the sun isn't breaking through the clouds with its usual clarity. Rai is using an app on his phone to help him understand the canopy's interception of light, but a layer of haze is preventing the 27-year-old Indian from collecting any meaningful data. \n\n Around him are some other tools of the trade: a portable device known as a ceptometer, used for measuring leaf area index; a spherical densiometer, for understanding canopy foliage and foliage covering the ground; and a laser rangefinder, which is used to estimate the height of trees but which has a tendency to malfunction. I'm six feet tall. The laser rangefinder is often convinced that I'm actually 17 metres.  \n\n What is happening here may resemble a comedy of elemental errors, but it has significance far beyond the mountainous forests of Kumaon, one of two regions in the state of Uttarakhand. Rai is working with a number of other ecologists and field assistants on the pithily titled research project, Long-term Monitoring of Biomass Stocks and Forest Community Structures in Temperate Zone of Western Himalaya. \n\n Spearheaded by the non-governmental Centre for Ecology Development and Research (CEDAR) and funded by India's Department of Science and Technology, this project is about climate change. It seeks to find out how much carbon is being absorbed by the region's forests. This is achieved by taking the information collected – foliage overlay, the height of the trees, leaf area index and canopy layer, among other things – and using it to make an allometric equation. \n\n Understanding the basic mechanism of carbon sequestration and the level of human disturbance in these forests can then provide the framework for a plan that seeks to pay local people to maintain the forests. If the project can determine how much human interaction with the forest has affected the trees' ability to photosynthesise, then local people can be paid to preserve the forest. Otherwise, its ability to act as a 'carbon sink' (anything that absorbs more carbon than it releases) risks damage from overuse. \n\n Right now, the forests of Kumaon are used primarily for fodder and fuel. Traditionally, families in the area had as many as 15 or 20 cows of their own. These cows were particularly dependent on the forest leaves for fodder and bedding. The fewer leaves a tree has, the less able it is to photosynthesise properly. Today, there are far fewer cows in the area and so fodder use has come down by a multiple of four or five in the last 10 years. The market has come to Kumaon – once an isolated area – and artificial substitutes for fodder are now available to buy locally, with NGOs providing subsidies for this. \n\n But while the pressure on the forest to provide fodder has come down, the need for it to provide fuel has gone up. This is in the Himalayan foothills, after all, and it gets cold in winter. There is little central heating and so a serious amount of wood is needed for fires to heat houses and light stoves. Where extended families once lived together, with grandparents, parents and children all under one roof, now the nuclear family is becoming the norm, meaning that requirement for fuel has gone up. And if the people of Kumaon are to use the forest less, they need compensation, or they will have no fire to warm them through the winter months. Substitutes for wood are available but are unaffordable for most. \n\n So the challenge for this project mirrors the challenge faced by climate change scientists and policymakers across the world: how can you reduce fossil fuel emissions and maintain and improve carbon sinks without disrupting or destroying the lives of local people, many of whom will be those most affected by climate change? \n\n Last March, US science agency the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) released figures that showed record concentrations of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, at over 400 parts per million (ppm). These levels are unprecedented in over a million years and have caused over one degree of warming. The level considered 'safe' – 350 ppm – was exceeded nearly three decades ago. Today's carbon concentrations represent a more than 40 per cent increase on those found in the atmosphere in the middle of the 18th century, before the beginning of the industrial revolution.\nForests are an important part of this increase. They are, along with the planet's oceans, one of two major carbon sinks. Deforestation puts carbon into the atmosphere while at the same time removing that sink. \"You can say that one quarter of this increase in carbon concentrations since the 18th century has been caused by deforestation,\" says Corinne Le Quéré, author of the Third, Fourth and Fifth Assessments of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and a professor of climate change science and policy at the University of East Anglia. \n\n In 2014, the IPCC found that 11 per cent of global greenhouse gas emissions were caused by forestry and other land use. Other sources claim this figure is anything up to 30 per cent. While Le Quéré points out that the effect of deforestation was more pronounced in the 18th and 19th centuries, when it was a key driver in the process of industrialisation, she emphasises the ongoing importance of forests in the fight for a better environment. \n\n \"We have very big ambitions to limit climate change well below two degrees… In terms of delivering a policy to achieve this, you absolutely need to have your forest in place and you absolutely need to tackle deforestation, because you cannot reach that level of climate stabilisation without it. Reforestation and afforestation is one of the best ways to take CO2 out of the atmosphere and forests have so many additional benefits for cleaning the air, cleaning the water, and so on.\"\nTo begin working out how people in the Himalayan foothills might be reimbursed for preserving the forest, Amogh Rai and his colleagues need to find out how much carbon they are actually taking in. \"We don't know how much carbon these forests are sequestering,\" says Rai. \"If you are talking about the forest as a sink for carbon, you need to figure out how much carbon this place is storing, versus how much it is producing. And for that you need to go back to the basics of forestry. You need to figure it out by laying ecological plots measuring 400 metres squared in different areas, at different altitudes and in different disturbance gradients.\" \n\n Rai started working on the project in March 2014. He grew up in Delhi and was something of a tech prodigy. But as his career was advancing at the kind of rate that would leave most people sick with jealousy, he also felt something akin to the call of the wild. More intellectually curious than professionally ambitious, he enrolled at Dr BR Ambedkar University as a master's student and, in December 2013, travelled to Kumaon to work on his dissertation, which was on a tree called\nMyrica esculenta\n, known locally as\nkafal\n. \n\n \"I love the forest because it is a place of silence and beauty,\" he says. \"Also, it is one of the last places of refuge from strident urbanisation. A typical city kid reaction to noise, and tempo of life, I suppose.\" Rai's boss at CEDAR, Rajesh Thadani, a Yale-educated forest ecologist in his forties, is equally romantic about his attachment to the forest, quoting Thoreau to me: \"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.\" It's not hard to imagine both men communing with woodland spirits. \n\n Kumaon's unique elements appealed to Rai. The area has two main types of oak tree, a number of pines, rhododendrons, cedars and maples. There are leopards, porcupines, wild boars, a variety of snakes and rodents, and 200 species of butterfly. The forests grow down hillsides into valleys and up along plateaus. \n\n There are now 40 forest plots in Kumaon, and the hope is that in the next couple of years that total will rise to 100. One night, I join Amogh Rai for dinner at the house of one of his two field assistants, Narendra. \n\n Now in his forties, Narendra is from Kumaon and has three small children. He doesn’t earn much but he is given supplementary income when he needs it and owns a small amount of land in the area. In a room furnished only with a single bed, we sit on the floor and eat food grown in the local fields: daikon, tomatoes sprinkled with marijuana (\"Yes, dude, welcome to the Himalayas,\" laughs Rai), nettles, smoked chilli and bread. Having left school at 17, Narendra tells me he worked in a Nestlé factory and then as a mechanic, before realising that he'd rather be back in the rural village he came from. Haldwani, the nearby town he was working in, was too hot and he just loved the forest too much. \n\n This was in the 1990s, when Kumaon was a particularly remote part of the country. It still is, comparatively speaking, but the arrival of mobile phones, satellite technology and the expansion of the road network has changed the area. The population has grown and rich professionals from the city have begun to build second homes in Kumaon, drawn to the area, like the British before them, by the promise of peace and tranquillity in the mountains, by the chance to get away from it all. \n\n Narendra remembers that, in these times, when far more people kept cattle, the forest was a place almost everyone used and understood. \"We used to go out in a throng and bring trees down to use the leaves for manure, which is also used as a bedding for cattle,\" he says. \"The animals would piss and shit on it and then it was used as manure.\" Today, keeping cattle has become economically unviable and artificial fertiliser can be bought at the market. As a result, fewer people use and understand the forest. \n\n \"There is a strong relationship between the people and the forest in the area but it has weakened, for good and for bad,\" Rajesh Thadani, who also worked closely with Narendra, tells me. Good because the forest is less disturbed, bad because caring for the forest now comes less naturally. \"People don't quite have the same religious and cultural attachment to it. Cattle became unprofitable. The quality of schools hasn't got better but most children now go to school, so they don't want to do agricultural work when they leave… If you don't feel a sense of ownership and belonging, you are less likely to do things. The expectation of money has arrived. The forest has become an externality.\"  \n\n There is a conflict and a contradiction here: local people may be paid to preserve the forest by using it less, but using the forest less will weaken their ties to it, thus making the desire to preserve it less urgent. It's the kind of dilemma globalised industrial capitalism throws up everywhere. The system itself has wreaked havoc on the environment, but in a structure where even people in remote areas often aspire to a certain kind of lifestyle and expect to be paid for things they might once have done for free as part of the collective harmony of a community, the monetising of things like forest maintenance has come to be seen as a potential solution. \n\n If a value is put on the forest, then, in a market-driven world, local communities will be able to better resist, for example, the planned construction of a massive hotel in an undisturbed patch of woodland. Right now, Rai argues, \"you only have aesthetic reasons, but we live and operate in a world that has a different set of values. For the first time, you can give a number to the value of a forest. It becomes a place that is [about] more than wondrous beasts.\"  \n\n This expectation of money both jars with and is in keeping with Kumaon's past. When Rajesh Thadani first came to the area in the 90s, he was strongly influenced by Ramachandra Guha's book The Unquiet Woods, a short history of the Chipko movement published in 1990. A wonderful writer, Guha remains one of India's most influential thinkers on environmental and social issues. His and Joan Martinez-Alier's distinction between the 'full-stomach' environmentalism of the north and the 'empty-belly' environmentalism of the global south strikes a chord in Kumaon. There is a big difference between chopping down some trees in a forest to keep yourself warm in the Himalayan winter, and laying waste to the Amazon in the name of the fast food industry. \n\n The Chipko movement was a phenomenon in 1970s India, an organised resistance to the destruction of forests across the country. The villagers who formed it were actual tree huggers: the word Chipko means 'embrace'. In one incident, women in the Alaknanda valley, responding to the Indian government's decision to grant a plot of forest land to a sporting goods company, formed a human ring around the trees, preventing the men from cutting them down. \n\n In Kumaon, there is a strong history of this kind of resistance to exploitation by powerful forces. As Guha and the political scientist Arun Agrawal have pointed out, the villagers of the region did not take the impositions of the British Raj lying down. The 'empty-belly' environmentalism of India awakened early, a fierce reaction to the iniquitous and destructive development processes foisted on the country by the imperial power. \n\n From the late 19th century into the 20th, the Raj introduced legislation that reduced the rights of local people to use their forests. From 1916 to 1921, villagers in Kumaon set hundreds of forest fires in protest against such legislation. They depended on forests for firewood for heating and cooking, manure for fields and fodder for livestock. This demand was seen as running contrary to the needs of the British, who wanted to carve up the forests of Kumaon to create railway sleepers. \n\n This kind of practice didn't end with the Raj. \"The government department once went on a rampage and planted cypresses all over the place,\" Amogh Rai says, laughing at the wasteful absurdity of the idea. \"They planted them because someone who is a bureaucrat would have gone to England and thought, 'Oh, beautiful trees, let's plonk them up there.' \n\n But the cypress doesn't bear fruit, its wood is rotten when it comes to burning, its leaves are spindly so you can't feed it to cattle. All in all, it's a shitty tree.\" \n\n British officials used the excuse that local practices were environmentally destructive to defend the regulation of vast areas of forest. Nearly half the land in Kumaon was taken over by the forest department which, by the beginning of the 20th century, was endeavouring to protect land from fire as well as clamp down on cattle grazing and fodder harvests. In response to the regulations and reclassifications landing on them, villagers broke the rules. Fodder and fuel was extracted, livestock was grazed. British forest officers were fed misinformation like a fire is fed wood. \n\n Protests became more common and led to massive demonstrations in the second decade of the 20th century. These together with forest fires intersected with outrage at the coolie system of forced labour extraction, under which villagers were obliged to work for the colonial administration. In 1922, the forest department's annual report conceded that local campaigning had led to the breakdown of British control of the forests. The Kumaon Forest Grievances Committee recommended the establishment of forest councils that, following the return of the land to the people, would manage forests belonging to the villages. \n\n In 1931, the Forest Council Rules made this recommendation a formal reality and 3,000 elected forest councils –\nVan Panchayats\n– were created to manage the forests of Kumaon. Villagers could once again use their land the way they saw fit, free from the commercial priorities of the colonial government. This new plan to preserve the forests of the region in the 21st century is also being met with accusations of imperialism. \n\n A handful of local NGOs give the impression that the government is \"selling up the mountains\". Though it is a plan driven by Indians rather than the British, it can still be seen by Kumaonis as coming from outside and on high, an imperialistic scam dreamed up \"for their own good\". Money, while desired, also generates suspicion. This is exacerbated by the fact that, two years ago, the Uttarakhand state government was given about $20m by the Japanese government and industry, which have a vested interest in promoting forestry around the globe. \n\n No one seems to be sure what has happened to this money. There is a timber mafia in the region that is generous to local politicians, many of whom are widely believed to be corrupt. Since I left the area at the end of last year, a drought has resulted in a series of forest fires, which have not been dealt with properly.\nIt is hoped that the\nVan Panchayats\n– the forest councils – will be immune to the corruption found in local government and that they could hold the key to any scheme that seeks to compensate local people for maintaining the forest. These established councils can link villages to the money made available for forest maintenance. A tripartite system involving the Van Panchayats, the NGOs and the government could then be set up to make sure the money falls into the right hands. \n\n Unlike carbon trading schemes or high profile incentive programmes like REDD and REDD+, the system for compensation envisaged in Kumaon would not be open to foreign tampering or carbon offsetting, though the question of the Japanese money complicates matters. \n\n \"In developing economies, green investment has not gained any worthwhile traction,\" says Rai. \"In developed countries without much ecological diversity, an understanding of their importance is an important driver in decisions to invest in research in the developing world. So, it is beneficial. The problem arises when these 'investments' get turned into market-oriented solutions. So yes, when companies in Germany 'gift' improved cookstoves in Tanzania and earn carbon credit, it is a problem.\" \n\n This 'gifting' is not what anyone has in mind for the Himalayan foothills. The idea is to create something fairly simple that can be executed neatly across a spectrum. A paper will be submitted to the Department of Science and Technology and then a conversation about incentive structures for the local community will begin, using the carbon sequestration data as a basis for what should be offered.\nThere are fears about corruption; and the dispersal of money remains a sketchy and murky affair but, as Rai says, \"the idea is that you at least need to get this thing started. If you don't pay people enough to maintain the forest, give me two reasons why they should keep the forests as they are, so that you or I could come and enjoy them? Because they are the ones who have to face the winters here, they are the ones who have to go and work in the forests here.\" Consultations are ongoing with villagers, various NGOs and the forest department.\nOnce upon a time, the strong social system – the ecologically minded functioning of the rural villages extolled by Gandhi – and dependence on the forest meant the environment was preserved. Now, these things are changing fairly rapidly. The whole idea of working as a social group is getting lost and so, Rai argues, \"incentives are going to play a larger role. I've had conversations with people where they've said, 'The forests are great, we want to protect them but we don't have any money.' So it's not just about giving them an incentive to protect the forest, it's that they need money to protect the forest.\" \n\n With the data now collected, allometric equations will determine how much carbon is sequestered in the forests. This information will then be used to put an economic value on the various plots, which will translate into payments made to local communities through the forest councils. This money could begin to pour in within the year. \n\n During my time in Kumaon, the Paris Climate Change Conference takes place. When I ask Rajesh Thadani how CEDAR's project fits into the bigger picture, he says: \"Carbon sinks are important and a good mitigation measure – but [they] would be effective only in conjunction with other measures.\" \n\n I watch some of the news coverage from Paris with Rai. There is so much to be done, so many vested interests to vanquish. \"I find it extremely political,\" Rai says. \"Climate change talks are an interesting window into how the world that doesn't actually work on scientific principles or doesn't understand the science behind global warming – which is an extremely complicated science – operates. I find it interesting, working in a forest over here, to hear about these things; interesting and funny.\" As the world fights over how best to tackle climate change – over how, more importantly, to get any of the world's big polluters to do anything differently – a battle about how this global phenomenon should be understood and dealt with takes place in the foothills of the Himalayas. \n\n \"Darkly funny?\" I ask Rai for his assessment.  \n\n \"Yeah, gallows humour.\"\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why was Rai collecting data on the forests in Kumaon?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_1", "options": ["To do research for a sporting goods company looking to build a factory there", "To determine the level of carbon sequestration happening there", "The collect census data on the number of people who live in the forest", "To do research for the government on the amount of cattle in the forest"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What were the forests of Kumaon used for traditionally?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_2", "options": ["Small-scale farming of produce such as daikon and tomatoes", "Feed for the livestock that was raised in the area", "Protected religious sites of great cultural importance", "Burning the wood to warm nuclear families in individual houses"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What are the forests of Kumaon being used for more in modern day?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_3", "options": ["Feed for the livestock that was raised in the area", "Burning the wood to warm nuclear families in individual houses", "Small-scale farming of produce such as daikon and tomatoes", "Protected religious sites of great cultural importance"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is studying forests and important aspect of understanding climate change?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_4", "options": ["Forests consume large amounts of oxygen in the atmosphere", "Forests house a large portion of the human population", "Forests offer a great wealth of potential resources that are necessary for economic development", "Forests absorb a large amount of the carbon dioxide in the atmosphere"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Rai decide to start working in forestry?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_5", "options": ["He wanted be somewhere that was much different than where he grew up", "He wanted to be able to save money by not living in an urban environment", "He was forced into the field by his university ", "He was passionate about stopping climate change"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Narenda want to return to the forest from the city?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_6", "options": ["He wanted to be able to save money by not living in an urban environment", "He was tired of the heat and wanted to live somewhere rural", "Rai had asked him directly for his help", "He lost his job at the Nestle factory"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are people less connected with the forest than in times past?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_7", "options": ["Ways of life from the past that involved the forest are less economically viable", "Technology has convinced more people to spend time indoors", "The majority of people would prefer to live in an urban environment", "People are having more children now and do not have time to spend in the forest"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is meant by \"full-stomach\" environmentalism?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_8", "options": ["Environmentalism that is based on a collective social agreement of protection", "Environmentalism that places monetary value on the long-term benefits of preservation", "Environmentalism with a focus on creating a secure network of food production", "Environmental advocates from developed nations judging people for destructive survival practices"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Kumaon a good region for potential forest preservation?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_9", "options": ["There is a rich history of environmentalism", "It is very bio-diverse", "All of the other choices are correct", "It has a large area of forest"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author think that it is important to monetarily incentivize the local population to preserve their environment?", "question_unique_id": "99915_NW2IQJGC_10", "options": ["People are greedy and will exploit the environment at any possible chance", "To convince people to resist the encroachment on the environment by the government", "People have become less connected to the environment as technology has progressed", "People do not understand the importance of technological development"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/margins/carbon-sink-himalayas", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99919", "set_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "Women on the march", "year": 2017, "author": "Geraldine Bedell", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "Women on the march\nIn the last weekend of November, Sophie Walker took to the stage at the Women's Equality Party's first conference to make her leader's speech and, within a few minutes, began weeping. She cried as she recounted the difficulties of being a single parent trying to access services for her autistic daughter: \"Finding out that no one was interested, no one cared, no one welcomed her as person who lived differently.\" \n\n This wasn't just a stray tear, brushed away. Walker (pictured above) seemed to be struggling to go on. The conference held its breath. I gripped the sides of my chair in a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment, thinking this wasn't going to go down well in the media, that she would be mocked for feebleness; what kind of leader, faced with an audience of hundreds, stands in front of them and cries at life's defeats? \n\n It was only afterwards that it occurred to me that this had been one of the most significant, and, yes, persuasive moments of the entire event. Walker could hardly have made her point – that her daughter's diagnosis had punctured her own privilege as a white, university-educated journalist (and tall and beautiful, which she did not say but which is nevertheless probably relevant) – more tellingly. Her tears powerfully conveyed her devastation at feeling her child was destined, as she put it, either to be invisible or to be exposed, and the helplessness this induced.\nThe Women's Equality party conference was awash with talk about women 'doing politics differently'. The phrase was trotted out repeatedly, although it wasn't entirely clear what it actually meant. This week, as hundreds of thousands of women prepare to march on Washington on Saturday following the inauguration of Donald Trump (with marches in 200 other US cities and more than 50 others worldwide, including across the UK and in London, where Sophie Walker will be one of the speakers) this seems a good moment to try to pin down whether there is anything new about 21st-century women's activism and, if so, what it is. \n\n There are two ways in which women might potentially 'do politics differently': policy, and practice. As far as the former is concerned, the Women's Equality party is promoting broad areas of policy capable of attracting women from across the traditional political spectrum, including closing the gender pay gap, subsidising childcare, ending violence against women, and equal representation in business, politics and the media. Detail and delivery would be more fraught, but, for now, these are things most women can get behind. Both Nicky Morgan, former Conservative Education Secretary, and Sal Brinton, President of the Liberal Democrats, spoke at the conference. \n\n It is in its practice, though, that women's activism has real potential to enlarge our understanding of what it means to be political. \n\n Among the variety of reasons for Brexit and Trump, rage was right up there. Emotion is back in fashion. The Brexiters and Trump eschewed rational arguments in favour of pleas to feeling. Trump is President of Emotions. (Sad!) Yet we are ill-equipped to understand this outbreak of feeling, as Pankaj Mishra argues in his forthcoming book, The Age of Anger, because our dominant intellectual concepts are incapable of comprehending the role of emotion in politics. \n\n Since the Enlightenment, Mishra argues, our political thinking has been ever more tightly gripped by materialist, mechanistic premises – for example by the idea that \"humans are essentially rational and motivated by the pursuit of their own interests; that they principally act to maximise personal happiness, rather than on the basis of fear, anger and resentment.\"\nHomo economicus\n, he says, \"views the market as the ideal form of human interaction and venerates technological progress and the growth of GDP. All of this is part of the rigid contemporary belief that what counts is only what can be counted and that what cannot be counted – subjective emotions – therefore does not.\" There is no room in this world view for more complex motivations: vanity, say, or the fear of humiliation.\nHow, then, to comprehend, let alone articulate, the vulnerability, the shame, the loss of identity created by inequality, job losses and purposeless communities? The roiling emotions engendered by capitalism's failure to confer the promised general prosperity cannot be understood when emotion is a thing men are meant to contain, then repudiate. Strongmen leaders do not stand in front of their political parties and weep about their daughters. That sort of thing is for losers. Male valour is about not showing emotional distress. (This is very deeply embedded in our culture: \"Thy tears are womanish,\" Shakespeare's Friar Lawrence scolds Romeo, although Romeo has every right to be upset, because he has just killed a man, who was Juliet's cousin.)\nEmotion is stigmatised as belonging to lesser, non-normative groups. Women are hysterical. Black men are hypersexual. Homosexuals are unreliably camp. There is no option for the would-be winners, competing to maximise their self-interest, to respond to injury by saying,  \"Please, that's painful!\" – still less by weeping. \n\n The emotion is there, nevertheless, metastasising. Since men without the means to express vulnerability cannot mourn frankly their loss of identity as a provider (let alone their disorientation when other groups threaten to undermine their unearned sense of superiority), injured masculinity must disguise itself in images of strength, mastery, honour. Trump himself is a personification of this phenomenon, as Laurie Penny has observed: \"At once an emblem of violent, impenetrable masculinity – the nasally-rigid, iron-hearted business Svengali determined to slap America until it stops snivelling – and a byword for hysterical sensitivity, a wailing man-baby with a hair-trigger temper.\"\nAll this emotion-with-nowhere-to-go was seized on by the Trump and Brexit campaigns. They found a way to channel it, allowing electorates to associate themselves with winning, to bray 'losers' at people they didn't like. It turned out not to matter very much what they were winning at or where it took them. Getting Trump into the White House, like Brexit, was an end in itself, a way of displacing pain, therapeutic. \n\n It was also deeply reactionary. The hideous inequalities of global capitalism being what they are, it is hard for the 99 per cent to conceive of themselves becoming winners as things stand – so Trump and Brexit offered instead a return to fantasies of the past. The iconography of Brexit has its roots in Britain's resistance to the Nazis (conveniently overlooking small things like imperial reach and American intervention), while the Trump campaign's \"make America great again\" offered still more explicit nostalgia for a time when the nation had a common destiny, with white men front and centre. \n\n What women's activism might bring to politics is a different sensibility, one that acknowledges that emotions are inevitable, messy – and necessary. There is a hole in politics where opposition used to be and social democracy used to flourish. That is largely because rational arguments, facts, expertise, seem to bear too little relation to the way that many people feel about the world. The liberals' arguments seem to be conducted in a kind of parallel universe, of interest only to those who thrive there. When called to articulate a vision for Britain in Europe, the best Remainers could manage was an abstract account of financial penalties if the electorate didn't do as it was told – which, since it never connected, was easily dismissed as 'Project Fear'. \n\n People have not, in fact, lost interest in truth. But first and foremost, they know the truth of their emotional relationship to the world. Liberals and social democrats currently have no way of addressing this. A lot of the time, they appear to be talking gobbledygook. \n\n The populist right has found an emotive way to engage electorates by channelling their feelings, often displacing them onto someone else in the process. If you cannot look at yourself in the mirror – because anxiousness makes you feel weak and to be weak is to be a failed human being – you are prey to finding someone else to blame for your loss of dignity. In a world of competition, the only way to self-esteem is to be a winner. And someone else must therefore become the loser.\nThere is an alternative: a politics that begins with the notion that emotions do not have to be repressed or deformed into bigotry and abuse. An understanding of feelings that does not equate weakness with shame, and compassion with maladaptive weakness, is much more likely to suggest solutions than one that denies our emotional lives, most of what makes us human.\nWhen people admit to their emotions, they call for empathy; they can galvanise action. \"And the government's name for a single mother raising two children and caring for her elderly father?\" Sophie Walker asked, in her conference speech, promptly supplying the (clearly absurd) answer: 'Economically inactive'. Walker's single mother is of no importance in the Trump/Farage fantasy land of winning, greatness, the deal, othering the outsider. The unpaid work of caring is about love; it entails vulnerability, which immediately makes it suspect in a world of winning and losing, in which the only permissible emotions are triumph and mocking schadenfreude. \n\n The prevailing political mood of the moment is anxiety. \"To live a modern life anywhere in the world today,\" Mark Lilla wrote recently in the New York Times, \"subject to perpetual social and technological transformation, is to experience the psychological equivalent of permanent revolution. Anxiety in the face of this process is now a universal experience, which is why reactionary ideas attract adherents around the world who share little except their sense of historical betrayal.\" \n\n When liberals make pious noises about understanding the anxiety of constituents who have turned away from them, their solution often seems to entail taking on some of the bigotry. You don't have to look very far to find those who believe that feminism is inadequate to the task of humanising politics because it is, in fact, part of the problem. Lilla, in another piece in the New York Times, and Simon Jenkins, in the Guardian, have each argued that the policing of language and behaviour – which some call courtesy – has provoked a backlash and so must bear some of the blame for populism. The logical extension of this argument is that feminists, along with Black Lives Matter and LGBTQ activists and other assorted 'snowflakes', need to take a step back and think about just how much damage they're doing.\nThe problem is that this assumes white men's lives are neutral territory around which the common interest can coalesce. It is, in other words, male identity politics. \"There has been a massive backlash by white men,\" Sophie Walker told me, at the WE party headquarters in Bermondsey, a few weeks after the conference speech. \"We are living out the identity politics of the straight white man right now.\" \n\n If we are not to face a breakdown to essentialist tribal identities of gender and race, people have to find a way of articulating feelings of distress in a way that doesn't humiliate them. If men cannot face their anxiety, it will be denied, and then absolutely nothing will be done to alleviate it; there will be a privatisation of misery. There are structural reasons for the explosion of mental health disorders in advanced economies, for the opiate addiction in the rustbelt, the epidemic of distress among young people, other sorts of self-harm. But if we can't acknowledge the underlying dread and helplessness that people experience in the face of a world controlled by global finance capital and incomprehensible algorithms, individuals will continue to be stigmatised as failing. Either you will be a winner, an entrepreneurial individual competing freely in the market, deflecting your distress by manning up, lashing out; or your inchoate feelings of desperation will be – sorry – your problem, mate. \n\n A female sensibility in politics is not, it probably needs saying, antithetical to reason, even though feeling and reason are often posited as opposites. Plato contrasted the wild horse of passion and the wise charioteer of reason (his point being, of course, that they needed each other). Jane Austen would have had no plots without the frequent difficulty human beings have in accommodating desire and wisdom: success, as she repeatedly shows, lies in the reconciliation of sense and sensibility. Such an accommodation requires self-examination, generosity of spirit, fidelity to self, and hard thinking. But first and foremost, it takes an honesty about feeling. \n\n I used to get mildly irritated when feminists focused too hard on female representation, when there seemed so many other pressing things to talk about, as if vaginas alone made a difference. And it is true that there is a glass-ceiling feminism that takes little heed of women for whom race, class, disability and/or sexuality intersect to intensify and redouble gender discrimination. But sheer numbers of women do make a difference. Nicky Morgan notes that women in parliament are more inclined to collaborate across party than men. Sal Brinton, who has had a lifetime of being a lone woman on decision-making bodies, says that when women get to 40 per cent in a meeting or on a board, the language changes. There's a different way of conducting business, a different sense of how to move things on. In a hall overwhelmingly dominated by women, it is possible for a leader to cry and everyone to be on her side. For no one to think (after a moment of adjustment from unreconstructed be-more-like-a-man feminists like me) that you're weak. \n\n Over the coming months and years, progressives are going to have to grapple with what kind of emotional appeal they can make beyond the populists' exploitative deformation of feeling. The task will be to retrieve emotion from its current co-option into a minatory, ultimately self-defeating way of looking at the world.  \n\n Women are not (of course) alone in identifying the need for soul in politics. Robert Musil and Stephen Toulmin, among others, have identified that there was a highly rationalistic and scientific turn in Enlightenment thinking after Descartes and Newton. Had the Enlightenment developed instead out of the vision of Montaigne, or Shakespeare, the thinking goes, it would have made more room for kindness, and would have given us a fuller, more complex and nuanced account of human experience. In the current destabilised times, people are returning to their ideas. \n\n Perhaps women's activism can give us all a way into reconnecting with a different, more generous apprehension of the Enlightenment. By caring about caring, for example – not as an abstract problem that acts as a brake on the economy, but because caring is about love, family, community, humanity. By reminding men that it is possible to acknowledge pain and survive, and then get stronger. As the political ground shifts under our feet and old allegiances and responses turn out to be no use to us, we are going to need to find a different language of politics. And the language of women is where we should start.\nTop image: Sophie Walker, leader of the Women's Equality Party, speaking at the party's first annual conference, in Manchester, November 2016 (Christopher Furlong/Getty Images)\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does the author see as the turning point for the modern reason-based political climate?", "question_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D_1", "options": ["Donald Trump being elected", "The Enlightenment", "World War II", "The Age of Anger"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What was the Women's Equality party conference focused on?", "question_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D_2", "options": ["Enacting new equality based political policies and practices", "Networking for women who were interested in entering politics", "Voting on the Brexit referendum", "Protesting the election of Donald Trump"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author argue as a possible solution for the lack of emotion in politics?", "question_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D_3", "options": ["The inclusion of many more women in the political process", "Electing more of the strongmen-type leaders who exhibit aggressive emotions", "A forced integration of emotion into the political process", "A re-education of the next generation to place more of a focus on emotion"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author think that the Trump and Brexit campaigns were both successful?", "question_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D_4", "options": ["Reminiscing on the racist and sexist attitudes of the past", "Appealing to the ethos of hard-working, no-whining people", "Good political branding and effective propaganda usage", "A lack of positive outlet for the emotion that people suppress"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author see as a major issue with advancing liberal policy?", "question_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D_5", "options": ["Liberals are not good at appealing to the emotionally blocked population that is majority male", "Liberals are too pushy with their inclusion of marginalized groups", "Liberals do not enact enough policy to fight the inequalities of capitalism", "Liberals are not willing to include enough women in political movements"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the author think the populist movement has succeed in using emotions?", "question_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D_6", "options": ["By including more women in their political movement", "By blaming other people for the source of negative emotions", "By convincing people to embrace their emotional relationship with the world", "By ignoring the use of emotion altogether"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author believe a major reason for political backlash towards feminism is?", "question_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D_7", "options": ["The movement's failure to appeal to the emotion and empathy of the public", "A focus on identity politics and eliminating problematic language and action", "Humiliating men for experiencing negative emotions such as anxiety", "A lack of intersectionality in the mainstream feminist movement "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author believe to be the most important human quality involved in politics?", "question_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D_8", "options": ["Logic and Emotion working together", "Logic", "Emotion", "Competitiveness "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author argue as a drawback of the current role of emotion in the political process?", "question_unique_id": "99919_OU3CCO1D_9", "options": ["It is seen as overly ambitious and disingenuous", "It allows people, especially men, to avoid having to confront their anxieties", "It fosters low confidence and a negative world-view", "It is inferior to reason when it comes to doing the most good for the most people"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/society/can-women-do-politics-differently", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99930", "set_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-openaccess", "title": "Open Access: Casualties", "year": 2019, "author": "Peter Suber", "topic": "Open access article", "article": "Open Access: Casualties\nWill a general shift to OA leave casualties?\n                                         \n                                          For example, will rising levels of green OA trigger cancellations of toll-access journals?\nThis question matters for those publishers (not all publishers) who fear the answer is yes and for those activists (not all activists) who hope the answer is yes. So far, unfortunately, it doesn’t have a simple yes-or-no answer, and most discussions replace evidence with fearful or hopeful predictions.\nThe primary drivers of green OA are policies at universities and funding agencies. Remember, all university policies allow publishers to protect themselves at will. (See section 4.1 on policies.) For example, universities with loophole or deposit mandates will not provide green OA when publishers do not allow it. Universities with Harvard-style rights-retention mandates will not provide OA when authors obtain waivers or when publishers require authors to obtain waivers as a condition of publication.\nHence, publishers who worry about the effect of university OA policies on subscriptions have the remedy in their own hands. Faculty needn’t paternalize publishers by voting down OA policies when publishers can protect themselves whenever they see the need to do so. The experience at Harvard since February 2008 is that very few publishers see the need to do so. Fewer than a handful systematically require waivers from Harvard authors.\nThis chapter, then, focuses on the strongest green OA mandates at funding agencies, like the Wellcome Trust and NIH, which allow no opt-outs for publishers or grantees. Will strong green OA policies of that kind trigger cancellations of toll-access journals? Here are 10 parts of any complete answer.\n1. Nobody knows yet how green OA policies will affect journal subscriptions.\nRising levels of green OA may trigger toll-access journal cancellations, or they may not. So far they haven’t.\n2. The evidence from physics is the most relevant.\nPhysics has the highest levels and longest history of green OA. The evidence from physics to date is that high levels of green OA don’t cause journal cancellations. On the contrary, the relationship between arXiv (the OA repository for physics) and toll-access physics journals is more symbiotic than antagonistic.\nPhysicists have been self-archiving since 1991, far longer than in any other field. In some subfields, such as particle physics, the rate of OA archiving approaches 100 percent, far higher than in any other field. If high-volume green OA caused journal cancellations, we’d see the effect first in physics. But it hasn’t happened. Two leading publishers of physics journals, the American Physical Society (APS) and Institute of Physics (IOP), have publicly acknowledged that they’ve seen no cancellations attributable to OA archiving. In fact, the APS and IOP have not only made peace with arXiv but now accept submissions from it and even host their own mirrors of it.\n3. Other fields may not behave like physics.\nWe won’t know more until the levels of green OA in other fields approach those in physics.\nIt would definitely help to understand why the experience in physics has gone as it has and how far it might predict the experience in other fields. But so far it’s fair to say that we don’t know all the variables and that publishers who oppose green OA mandates are not among those showing a serious interest in them. When publisher lobbyists argue that high-volume green OA will undermine toll-access journal subscriptions, they don’t offer evidence, don’t acknowledge the countervailing evidence from physics, don’t rebut the evidence from physics, and don’t qualify their own conclusions in light of it. They would act more like scientific publishers if they acknowledged the evidence from physics and then argued, as well as they could, either that the experience in physics will change or that fields other than physics will have a different experience.\nAn October 2004 editorial in\nThe Lancet\n(an Elsevier journal) called on the publishing lobby to do better. “[A]s editors of a journal that publishes research funded by the NIH, we disagree with [Association of American Publishers President Patricia Schroeder’s] central claim. Widening access to research [through green OA mandates] is unlikely to bring the edifice of scientific publishing crashing down. Schroeder provides no evidence that it would do so; she merely asserts the threat. This style of rebuttal will not do. . . .”\nFor more than eight years, green OA mandates have applied to research in many fields outside physics. These mandates are natural experiments and we’re still monitoring their effects. At Congressional hearings in 2008 and 2010, legislators asked publishers directly whether green OA was triggering cancellations. In both cases, publishers pointed to decreased downloads but not to increased cancellations.\n4. There is evidence that green OA decreases downloads from publishers’ web sites.\nWhen users know about OA and toll-access editions of the same article, many will prefer to click through to the OA edition, either because they aren’t affiliated with a subscribing institution or because authentication is a hassle. Moreover, when users find an OA edition, most stop looking. But decreased downloads are not the same thing as decreased or canceled subscriptions.\nMoreover, decreased downloads of toll-access editions from publisher web sites are not the same thing as decreased downloads overall. No one suggests that green OA leads to decreased overall downloads, that is, fewer readers and less reading. On the contrary, the same evidence suggesting that OA increases citation impact also suggests that it increases readers and reading.\n5. Most publishers voluntarily permit green OA.\nSupplementing the natural experiments of green OA mandates are the natural experiments of publishers who voluntarily permit green OA. The Nature Publishing Group is more conservative than most toll-access publishers by requiring a six-month embargo on green OA, but more progressive than most by positively encouraging green OA. NPG reported the latest results of its multidisciplinary natural experiment in January 2011: “We have, to date, found author self-archiving compatible with subscription business models, and so we have been actively encouraging self-archiving since 2005.”\nThis or something similar to it must be the experience of the majority of toll-access publishers who voluntarily permit green OA. Even if they don’t actively encourage green OA, most permit it without embargo. If they found that it triggered cancellations, they would stop.\n6. Green OA mandates leave standing at least four library incentives to maintain their subscriptions to toll-access journals.\nEven the strongest no-loophole, no-waiver policies preserve incentives to maintain toll-access journal subscriptions.\nFirst, all funder OA mandates include an embargo period to protect publishers. For example, the OA mandates at the Research Councils UK allow an embargo of up to six months after publication. The NIH allows an embargo of up to twelve months. Libraries wanting to provide immediate access will still have an incentive to subscribe.\nSecond, all funder OA mandates apply to the final version of the author’s peer-reviewed manuscript, not to the published version. If the journal provides copyediting after peer review, then the policies do not apply to the copyedited version, let alone to the formatted, paginated published edition. Libraries wanting to provide access to copyedited published editions will still have an incentive to subscribe.\nThe purpose of these two policy provisions is precisely to protect publishers against cancellations. They are deliberate concessions to publishers, adopted voluntarily by funding agencies as compromises with the public interest in immediate OA to the best editions. When we put the two together, we see that funder-mandated OA copies of peer-reviewed manuscripts won’t compete with toll-access copies of the published editions for six to twelve months, and there will never be OA copies of the more desirable published editions unless publishers voluntarily allow them. Publishers retain life-of-copyright exclusivity on the published editions. Even if OA archiving does eventually erode subscriptions outside physics, publishers have longer and better protection from these effects than their lobbyists ever acknowledge.\nThird, funder OA mandates only apply to research articles, not to the many other kinds of content published in scholarly journals, such as letters, editorials, review articles, book reviews, announcements, news, conference information, and so on. Libraries wanting to provide access to these other kinds of content will still have an incentive to subscribe.\nFourth, funder OA mandates only apply to articles arising from research funded by the mandating agency. Very few journals publish nothing but articles from a single funder, or even from a set of funders all of whom have OA mandates. Libraries wanting to provide access to all the research articles in a journal, regardless of the sources of funding, will still have an incentive to subscribe. This incentive will weaken as more and more funders adopt OA mandates, but we’re very far from universal funder mandates. As we get closer, unfunded research will still fall outside this category and the three other incentives above will still stand.\nThe Association of College and Research Libraries addressed subscription incentives in a 2004 open letter on the NIH policy: “We wish to emphasize, above all, that academic libraries will not cancel journal subscriptions as a result of this plan. . . . Even if libraries wished to consider the availability of NIH-funded articles when making journal cancellation decisions, they would have no reasonable way of determining what articles in specific journals would become openly accessible after the embargo period.”\n7. Some studies bear on the question of whether increased OA archiving will increase journal cancellations.\nIn a 2006 study from the Publishing Research Consortium (PRC), Chris Beckett and Simon Inger asked 400 librarians about the relative weight of different factors in their decisions to cancel subscriptions. Other things being equal, the librarians preferred free content to priced content and short embargoes to longer ones. Publishers interpret this to mean that the rise of OA archiving will cause cancellations. The chief flaw with the study is its artificiality. For example, the survey did not ask about specific journals by name but only about resources with abstractly stipulated levels of quality. It also disregarded faculty input on cancellation decisions when all librarians acknowledge that faculty input is decisive. The result was a study of hypothetical preferences, not actual cancellation decisions.\nA less hypothetical study was commissioned by publishers themselves in the same year. From the summary:\nThe three most important factors used to determine journals for cancellation, in declining order of importance, are that the faculty no longer require it . . . , usage and price. Next, availability of the content via open access (OA) archives and availability via aggregators were ranked equal fourth, but some way behind the first three factors. The journal’s impact factor and availability via delayed OA were ranked relatively unimportant. . . . With regard to OA archives, there was a great deal of support for the idea that they would not directly impact journal subscriptions.\nIn short, toll-access journals have more to fear from their own price increases than from rising levels of green OA. Publishers who keep raising their prices aggravate the access problem for researchers and aggravate the sustainability problem for themselves. If the same publishers blame green OA and lobby against green OA policies, then they obstruct the solution for researchers and do very little to improve their own sustainability.\n8. OA may increase submissions and subscriptions.\nSome subscription journals have found that OA after an embargo period, even a very short one like two months, actually increases submissions and subscriptions. For example, this was the experience of the American Society for Cell Biology and its journal,\nMolecular Biology of the Cell.\nMedknow saw its submissions and subscriptions increase when it began offering unembargoed full-text editions of its journals alongside its toll-access print journals.\n \n                                          Hindawi Publishing saw its submissions rise steadily after it converted all its peer-reviewed journals to OA in 2007. Looking back on several years of rapidly growing submissions, company founder and CEO Ahmed Hindawi said in January 2010, “It is clear now more than ever that our open access conversion . . . was the best management decision we have taken. . . .”\n9. Some publishers fear that green OA will increase pressure to convert to gold OA.\nSome publishers fear that rising levels of green OA will not only trigger toll-access journal cancellations but also increase pressure to convert to gold OA. (Likewise, some OA activists hope for this outcome.)\nThere are two responses to this two-fold fear. The fear of toll-access cancellations disregards the relevant evidence in points 1–8 above. The fear of conversion to gold OA also disregards relevant evidence, such as Ahmed Hindawi’s testimony above, and the testimony of Springer CEO Derk Haank. In 2008 when Springer bought BioMed Central and became the world’s largest OA publisher, Haank said: “[W]e see open access publishing as a sustainable part of STM publishing, and not an ideological crusade.” (Also see chapter 7 on economics.)\nPublishers inexperienced with gold OA needn’t defer to publishers with more experience, but they should at least study them.\nIn fact, OA publishing might be more sustainable than TA publishing, as toll-access prices and the volume of research both grow faster than library budgets. (See section 2.1 on problems.) If publishers acknowledge that gold OA can be sustainable, and even profitable, and merely wish to avoid making lower margins than they make today, then their objection takes on a very different color. They’re not at risk of insolvency, just reduced profits, and they’re not asserting a need for self-protection, just an entitlement to current levels of profit. There’s no reason for public funding agencies acting in the public interest, or private funders acting for charitable purposes, to compromise their missions in order to satisfy that sense of publisher entitlement.\n10. Green OA policies are justified even if they do create risks for toll-access journals.\nIf we’re only interested in the effect of rising levels of green OA on toll-access publishers, then we can stop at points 1–9. But if we’re interested in good policy, then we must add one more factor: Even if green OA does eventually threaten toll-access journal subscriptions, green OA policies are still justified.\nI won’t elaborate this point here, since it takes us beyond the topic of casualties to the full case for OA, which is spread throughout the rest of the book. But here’s one way to put the debate in perspective: There are good reasons to want to know whether rising levels of green OA will trigger cancellations of toll-access journals, and perhaps even to modify our policies in light of what we learn. But there are no good reasons to put the thriving of incumbent toll-access journals and publishers ahead of the thriving of research itself.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why does the author think the issue of Green OA is important?", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_1", "options": ["It will lead to increased use of toll-access publications ", "It will decrease the risk of publisher monopoly", "It would increase publisher profits ", "It will increase access to published literature"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who does the author think that the issue of Green OA is important to? ", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_2", "options": ["Activists ", "All of the other answers are correct", "Publishers", "Media Consumers"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the main concern of publishers about green OA policies?", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_3", "options": ["Increased number of downloads of journals ", "A replacement of the standard Gold OA policies", "Negatively affecting the relationship between publishers and academia ", "Decreased subscriptions to journals"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author use as a counterpoint to the concerns of the publishers about subscription cancelations? ", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_4", "options": ["The success of Gold OA policies for publishers ", "A lack of empirical evidence ", "The systematic requirement of waivers ", "The fact that green OA practices were the standard in the past "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author use as a synonym for OA ", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_5", "options": ["APS", "IOP", "Subscription cancellations ", "Self-archiving"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author argue the relationship between downloads and subscriptions are?", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_6", "options": ["As downloads increase, subscriptions decrease", "Downloads and subscriptions are both effected my OA", "There is no correlation between downloads and subscriptions", "As downloads increase, subscriptions increase"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author believe that information provided by using physics as an example of OA practices imply?", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_7", "options": ["That OA practices would increase journal subscriptions ", "That OA practices would decrease journal subscriptions ", "The author makes no further implications from the data provided about physics ", "That OA practices would not affect publishers profits at all"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author believe that universities should not worry about the effects of their OA practices?", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_8", "options": ["Universities do not publish enough material that the public would want to access", "University OA practices have been proven to increase revenue for publishers", "Publishers already have the ability to protect themselves ", "Universities are a too small of a portion of publishers markets "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What did the research show as the main reason for libraries canceling publication subscriptions?", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_9", "options": ["The presence of extra media such as photos and commentary in the publication", "Whether or not the published content was completely free", "The length of content embargo that the subscription publisher used ", "The cost and amount of use related to the subscription"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "In which scenarios did OA increase subscription retention? ", "question_unique_id": "99930_RTKM04NA_10", "options": ["When the publication used a short embargo followed by OA", "Only in hypothetical scenarios, not in actual data ", "When libraries decided to embrace the practice of embargo", "When publishers decided to switch to Gold OA instead of Green"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu/pub/abbd2v1a/release/2", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu"}
{"article_id": "99927", "set_unique_id": "99927_EVLEI3Q2", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-openaccess", "title": "Open Access: Policies", "year": 2019, "author": "Peter Suber", "topic": "Open access article", "article": "Open Access: Policies\n4.1 OA Policies at Funding Agencies and Universities\nAuthors control the volume and growth of OA. They decide whether to submit their work to OA journals (gold OA), whether to deposit their work in OA repositories (green OA), and how to use their copyrights. But scholarly authors are still largely unfamiliar with their OA options. It’s pointless to appeal to them as a bloc because they don’t act as a bloc. It’s not hard to persuade or even excite them once we catch their attention, but because they are so anarchical, overworked, and preoccupied, it’s hard to catch their attention.\nFortunately, funding agencies and universities are discovering their own interests in fostering OA. These nonprofit institutions make it their mission to advance research and to make that research as useful and widely available as possible. Their money frees researchers to do their work and avoid the need to tie their income to the popularity of their ideas. Above all, these institutions are in an unparalleled position to influence author decisions.\nToday, more than fifty funding agencies and more than one hundred universities have adopted strong OA policies. Each one depends on the primacy of author decisions.\nOne kind of policy, better than nothing, requests or encourages OA. A stronger kind of policy requires OA or makes it the default for new work. These stronger policies are usually called OA\nmandates\nand I’ll use that term for lack of a better one (but see section 4.2 on how it’s misleading).\nRequest or encouragement policies\nThese merely ask faculty to make their work OA, or recommend OA for their new work. Sometimes they’re called resolutions or pledges rather than policies.\nEncouragement policies can target green and gold OA equally. By contrast, mandates only make sense for green OA, at least today when OA journals constitute only about one-quarter of peer-reviewed journals. A gold OA mandate would put most peer-reviewed journals off-limits and seriously limit faculty freedom to submit their work to the journals of their choice. This problem doesn’t arise for green OA mandates.\nFortunately, this is well understood. There are no gold OA mandates anywhere; all OA mandates are green. Unfortunately, however, many people mistakenly believe that all OA is gold OA and therefore mistake proposed green OA mandates for proposed gold OA mandates and raise objections that would only apply to gold OA mandates. But as more academics understand the green/gold distinction, and understand that well-written green OA mandates are compatible with academic freedom, more institutions are adopting green OA mandates, almost always at the initiative of faculty themselves.\nAt universities, there are roughly three approaches to green OA mandates:\nLoophole mandates\nThese require green OA except when the author’s publisher doesn’t allow it.\nDeposit mandates\nThese require deposit in an OA repository as soon as the article is accepted for publication, but they separate the timing of deposit from the timing of OA. If the author’s publisher doesn’t allow OA, then these policies keep the deposited article dark or non-OA. If the publisher allows OA, immediately or after some embargo, then the deposit becomes OA as soon as the permission kicks in. Because most publishers allow OA on some timetable, this method will provide OA to most new work in due time.\nDeposit mandates generally depend on publisher permission for OA, just like loophole mandates. The difference is that they require deposit even when they can’t obtain permission for OA.\nRights-retention mandates\nThese require deposit in an OA repository as soon as the article is accepted for publication, just like deposit mandates. But they add a method to secure permission for making the deposit OA. There’s more than one way to secure that permission. At the Wellcome Trust and NIH, which pioneered this approach for funding agencies, when grantees publish articles based on their funded research they must retain the nonexclusive right to authorize OA through a repository. At Harvard, which pioneered this approach for universities, faculty members vote to give the university a standing nonexclusive right (among other nonexclusive rights) to make their future work OA through the institutional repository. When faculty publish articles after that, the university already has the needed permission, and faculty needn’t take any special steps to retain rights or negotiate with publishers. Nor need they wait for the publisher’s embargo to run. Harvard-style policies also give faculty a waiver option, allowing them to opt out of the grant of permission to the university, though not out of the deposit requirement. When faculty members obtain waivers for given works, then Harvard-style mandates operate like deposit mandates and the works remain dark deposits until the institution has permission to make them OA.\nMany OA policies are crossbreeds rather than pure types, but all the policies I’ve seen are variations on these four themes.\nFirst note that none of the three “mandates” absolutely requires OA. Loophole mandates allow some work to escape through the loophole. Deposit mandates allow some deposited work to remain dark (non-OA), by following publisher preferences. Rights-retention mandates with waiver options allow some work to remain dark, by following author preferences.\nLoophole and deposit policies defer to publishers for permissions, while rights-retention policies obtain permission from authors before they transfer rights to publishers. For loophole and deposit policies, permission is contingent, because some publishers are willing and some are not. For rights-retention policies, permission is assured, at least initially or by default, although authors may opt out for any publication.\nWhen loophole policies can’t provide OA, covered works needn’t make it to the repository even as dark deposits. When deposit and rights-retention policies can’t provide OA, at least they require dark deposit for the texts, and OA for the metadata (information about author, title, date, and so on). Releasing the metadata makes even a dark deposit visible to readers and search engines. Moreover, many repositories support an email-request button for works on dark deposit. The button enables a reader to submit a one-click request for a full-text email copy and enables the author to grant or deny the request with a one-click response.\nWe could say that rights-retention policies require OA except when authors opt out, or that they simply shift the default to OA. Those are two ways of saying the same thing because, either way, faculty remain free to decide for or against OA for each of their publications. Preserving this freedom and making it conspicuous help muster faculty support, indeed, unanimous faculty votes. Because shifting the default is enough to change behavior on a large scale, waiver options don’t significantly reduce the volume of OA. At Harvard the waiver rate is less than 5 percent, and at MIT it’s less than 2 percent.\nLoophole policies and rights-retention policies both offer opt-outs. But loophole policies give the opt-out to publishers and rights-retention policies give it to authors. The difference is significant because many more authors than publishers want OA for research articles.\nMany institutions adopt loophole policies because they believe a blanket exemption for dissenting publishers is the only way to avoid copyright problems. But that is not true. Deposit policies don’t make works OA until publishers allow OA, and rights-retention policies close the loophole and obtain permission directly from authors at a time when authors are the copyright holders.\nOA policies from funding agencies are very much like OA policies from universities. They can encourage green and gold OA, or they can require green OA. If they require green OA, they can do so in one of the three ways above. If there’s a difference, it’s that when funders adopt a rights-retention mandate, they typically don’t offer waiver options. On the contrary, the Wellcome Trust and NIH require their grantees to make their work OA through a certain OA repository on a certain timetable and to retain the right to authorize that OA. If a given publisher will not allow grantees to comply with their prior funding agreement, then grantees must look for another publisher.\nThere are two reasons why these strong funder policies don’t infringe faculty freedom to submit work to their journals of their choice. First, researchers needn’t seek funds from these funders. When they choose to do so, then they agree to the OA provisions, just as they agree to the other terms and conditions of the grant. The OA “mandate” is a condition on a voluntary contract, not an unconditional requirement. It’s a reasonable condition as well, since public funders, like the NIH, disburse public money in the public interest, and private funders, like the Wellcome Trust, disburse charitable money for charitable purposes. To my knowledge, no researchers have refused to apply for Wellcome or NIH funds because of the OA condition, even when they plan to publish in OA-averse journals. The OA condition benefits authors and has not been a deal-breaker.\nSecond, virtually all publishers accommodate these policies. For example, no surveyed publishers anywhere refuse to publish work by NIH-funded authors on account of the agency’s OA mandate. Hence, in practice grantees may still submit work to the journals of their choice, even without a waiver option to accommodate holdout publishers.\nWe should never forget that most toll-access journals already allow green OA and that a growing number of high-quality, high-prestige peer-reviewed journal are gold OA. From one point of view, we don’t need OA mandates when authors already plan to publish in one of those journals. But sometimes toll-access journals change their positions on green OA. Sometimes authors don’t get around to making their work green OA even when their journals allow it. And sometimes authors don’t publish in one of those journals. The final rationale for green OA mandates, then, is for institutions to bring about OA for their entire research output, regardless of how publishers might alter their policies, regardless of author inertia, and regardless of the journals in which faculty or grantees choose to publish.\nGreen OA mandates don’t assure OA to the entire research output of a university or funding agency, for the same reason that they don’t require OA without qualification. But implementing them provides OA to a much larger percentage of the research output than was already headed toward OA journals or OA repositories, and does so while leaving authors free to submit their work to the journals of their choice.\nI’ve only tried to give a rough taxonomy of OA policies and their supporting arguments. For detailed recommendations on OA policy provisions, and specific arguments for them, see my 2009 analysis of policy options for funding agencies and universities.\nI’ve also focused here on OA policies for peer-reviewed research articles. Many universities have adopted OA mandates for theses and dissertations, and many funder OA policies also cover datasets. A growing number of universities supplement OA mandates for articles with a sensible and effective policy to assure compliance: When faculty come up for promotion or tenure, the review committee will only consider journal articles on deposit in the institutional repository.\n4.2 Digression on the Word “Mandate”\nThe strongest OA policies use words like “must” or “shall” and require or seem to require OA. They’re commonly called OA “mandates.” But all three varieties of university “mandate” above show why the term is misleading. Loophole mandates don’t require OA without qualification: when publishers dissent, articles are either not deposited in the repository or not made OA. Deposit mandates don’t require OA without qualification: when publishers dissent, articles are deposited in a repository but are not made OA. Rights-retention mandates with waiver options don’t require OA without qualification: authors may obtain waivers and sometimes do. I haven’t seen a university OA “mandate” anywhere without at least one of these three kinds of flexibility.\nThat’s the main reason why no university policies require OA without qualification. There are a few more. First, as Harvard’s Stuart Shieber frequently argues, even the strongest university policies can’t make tenured faculty comply.\n                                         \n                                          Second, as I’ve frequently argued, successful policies are implemented through expectations, education, incentives, and assistance, not coercion. Third, even the strongest policies—even the no-loophole, no-deference, no-waiver policies at the Wellcome Trust and NIH—make OA a condition on a voluntary contract. No policy anywhere pretends to impose an unconditional OA requirement, and it’s hard to imagine how any policy could even try. (“You must make your work OA even if you don’t work for us or use our funds”?)\nUnfortunately, we don’t have a good vocabulary for policies that use mandatory language while deferring to third-person dissents or offering first-person opt-outs. Nor do we have a good vocabulary for policies that use mandatory language and replace enforcement with compliance-building through expectations, education, incentives, and assistance. The word “mandate” is not a very good fit for policies like this, but neither is any other English word.\nBy contrast, we do have a good word for policies that use mandatory language for those who agree to be bound. We call them “contracts.” While “contract” is short, accurate, and unfrightening, it puts the accent on the author’s consent to be bound. That’s often illuminating, but just as often we want to put the accent on the content’s destiny to become OA. For that purpose, “mandate” has become the term of art, for better or worse.\nI use “mandate” with reluctance because it can frighten some of the people I’m trying to persuade and can give rise to misunderstandings about the policies behind the label. When we have time and space for longer phrases, we can talk about “putting an OA condition” on research grants, in the case of NIH-style policies, or “shifting the default to OA” for faculty research, in the case of Harvard-style policies. These longer expressions are more accurate and less frightening. However, sometimes we need a shorthand term, and we need a term that draws an appropriately sharp contrast with policies that merely request or encourage OA.\nIf anyone objects that a policy containing mandatory language and a waiver option isn’t really a “mandate,” I won’t disagree. On the contrary, I applaud them for recognizing a nuance which too many others overlook. (It’s depressing how many PhDs can read a policy with mandatory language and a waiver option, notice the mandatory language, overlook the waiver option, and then cite the lack of flexibility as an objection.) But denying that a policy is a mandate can create its own kinds of misunderstanding. In the United States, citizens called for jury duty must appear, even if many can claim exemptions and go home again. We can say that jury duty with exemptions isn’t really a “duty,” provided we don’t conclude that it’s merely a request and encouragement.\nFinally, a common misunderstanding deliberately promulgated by some publishers is that OA must be “mandated” because faculty don’t want it. This position gets understandable but regrettable mileage from the word “mandate.” It also overlooks decisive counter-evidence that we’ve had in hand since 2004. Alma Swan’s empirical studies of researcher attitudes show that an overwhelming majority of researchers would “willingly” comply with a mandatory OA policy from their funder or employer.\nThe most recent evidence of faculty willingness is the stunning series of strong OA policies adopted by unanimous faculty votes. (When is the last time you heard of a unanimous faculty vote for anything, let alone anything of importance?) As recently as 2007, speculation that we’d soon see more than two dozen unanimous faculty votes for OA policies would have been dismissed as wishful thinking. But now that the evidence lies before us, what looks like wishful thinking is the publishing lobby’s idea that OA must be mandated because faculty don’t want it.\nFinally, the fact that faculty vote unanimously for strong OA policies is a good reason to keep looking for a better word than “mandate.” At least it’s a good reason to look past the colloquial implications of the term to the policies themselves and the players who drafted and adopted them. Since 2008, most OA “mandates” at universities have been self-imposed by faculty.\n4.3 Digression on the Historical Timing of OA Policies\nSome kinds of strong OA policy that are politically unattainable or unwise today may become attainable and wise in the future. Here are three examples.\nToday, a libre green mandate (say, one giving users the right to copy and redistribute, not just access for reading) would face serious publisher resistance. Even if the policy included rights retention and didn’t depend on publishers for permissions, publisher resistance would still matter because publishers possess—and ought to possess—the right to refuse to publish any work for any reason. They could refuse to publish authors bound by a libre green policy, or they could insist on a waiver from the policy as a condition of publication. Policies triggering rejections hurt authors, and policies driving up waiver rates don’t do much to help OA. However, publisher resistance might diminish as the ratio of OA publishers to toll-access publishers tilts toward OA, as spontaneous author submissions shift toward OA journals, or as the number of institutions with libre green mandates makes resistance more costly than accommodation for publishers. When OA policies are toothless, few in number, or concentrated in small institutions, then they must accommodate publishers in order to avoid triggering rejections and hurting authors. But as policies grow in number, scope, and strength, the situation could flip over, and publishers will have to accommodate OA policies in order to avoid hurting themselves by rejecting too many good authors for reasons unrelated to the quality of their work.\nToday, a gold OA mandate would limit faculty freedom to submit work to the journals of their choice. But that’s because today only about 25 percent of peer-reviewed journals are OA. As this percentage grows, then a gold OA mandate’s encroachment on academic freedom shrinks. At some point even the most zealous defenders of faculty freedom may decide that the encroachment is negligible. In principle the encroachment could be zero, though of course when the encroachment is zero, and gold OA mandates are harmless, then gold OA mandates would also be unnecessary.\nToday, faculty voting for a rights-retention OA mandate want a waiver option, and when the option is available their votes tend to be overwhelming or unanimous. But there are several circumstances that might make it attractive for faculty to abolish waiver options or make waivers harder to obtain. One is a shift in faculty perspective that makes access to research more urgent than indulging publishers who erect access barriers. Another is a significant rise in publisher acceptance of green OA, which gives virtually all authors—rather than just most—blanket permission for green OA. In the first case, faculty might “vote with their submissions” and steer clear of publishers who don’t allow author-initiated green OA. In the second case, faculty would virtually never encounter such publishers. In the first case, they’d seldom want waivers, and the second they’d seldom need waivers.\nIt’s understandable that green gratis mandates are spreading faster than green libre mandates, that green mandates in general are spreading faster than gold mandates, and that rights-retention policies with waiver options are spreading faster than rights-retention policies without waivers. However, there is modest growth on one of these fronts: green libre mandates.\nThe case against these three kinds of OA policy is time-sensitive, not permanent. It’s circumstantial, and circumstances are changing. But the strategy for institutions wanting to remove access barriers to research is unchanging: they should adopt the strongest policies they can today and watch for the moment when they could strengthen them.\nAs researchers become more familiar with OA, as more institutions adopt OA policies, as more new literature is covered by strong OA policies, as more toll-access journals convert to OA, as more toll-access journals accommodate OA mandates without converting, and even as more OA journals shift from gratis to libre, institutions will be able strengthen their OA policies without increasing publisher-controlled rejection rates or author-controlled waiver rates. They should watch the shifting balance of power and seize opportunities to strengthen their policies.\nThe moments of opportunity will not be obvious. They will not be highlighted by objective evidence alone and will call for some self-fulfilling leadership. Institutional policy-makers will have to assess not only the climate created by existing policies, and existing levels of support, but also the likely effects of their own actions. Every strong, new policy increases the likelihood of publisher accommodation, and when enough universities and funders have policies, all publishers will have to accommodate them. In that sense, every strong new policy creates some of the conditions of its own success. Every institution adopting a new policy brings about OA for the research it controls and makes the way easier for other institutions behind it. Like many other policy issues, this is one on which it is easier to follow than to lead, and we already have a growing number of leaders. A critical mass is growing and every policy is an implicit invitation to other institutions to gain strength through common purpose and help accelerate publisher adaptation.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why is it difficult to appeal to academic writers about OA policies? ", "question_unique_id": "99927_EVLEI3Q2_1", "options": ["They are hard to capture the attention of ", "All of the other answers are correct", "They work too hard to be concerned with publishing intricacies ", "They are not a homogenous group "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are funding agencies and universities concerned with OA policy?", "question_unique_id": "99927_EVLEI3Q2_2", "options": ["They are seeking to limit the power that private publishers have ", "They want to ensure researchers are able to work in the most effective way possible ", "They want to influence the content of the authors’ works ", "They are looking to maximize their profits "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are there no gold OA mandates?", "question_unique_id": "99927_EVLEI3Q2_3", "options": ["They would not be effective as they would deter authors from submitting to journals with Gold OA mandates ", "OA mandates have not become popular in the academic field yet ", "They are illegal and no publishers would risk breaking the law ", "They are not needed as most authors only submit work to one journal "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the OA mandates gives the author the most control over their work? ", "question_unique_id": "99927_EVLEI3Q2_4", "options": ["Libre green mandates ", "Loophole mandates", "Deposit mandates", "Rights-retention mandates "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the main difference between funding groups and academic institutions when it comes to OA?", "question_unique_id": "99927_EVLEI3Q2_5", "options": ["Funding groups allow waivers for the authors to not release their work ", "Funding groups only allow Gold OA policies ", "Academic institutions only allow Gold policies ", "Funding groups do not allow waivers for the authors to not release their work "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "In which situations does truly unconditional OA policy apply?", "question_unique_id": "99927_EVLEI3Q2_6", "options": ["When publishing work in a journal ", "When working for a university ", "There are no situations where unconditional OA applies ", "When working in the field of Physics"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are green gratis mandates spreading faster than green libre mandates ", "question_unique_id": "99927_EVLEI3Q2_7", "options": ["Gold mandates are more popular than libre green mandates ", "University resistance to libre green mandates ", "Author resistance to libre green mandates ", "Publisher resistance to libre green mandates "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the author suggest that the transition will be made to more liberal OA policies? ", "question_unique_id": "99927_EVLEI3Q2_8", "options": ["By researchers demanding more OA to further their work ", "By more academic and funding institutions adoptions OA policies", "By education faculty about the benefits of OA policies ", "By more publishers willingly adopting OA policies"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu/pub/8uwtev1h/release/2", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu"}
{"article_id": "99929", "set_unique_id": "99929_HT54BDU8", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-openaccess", "title": "Open Access: Economics", "year": 2019, "author": "Peter Suber", "topic": "Open access article", "article": "Open Access: Economics\nMany publishers who oppose OA concede that OA is better for research and researchers than toll access.\n \n                                          They merely object that we can’t pay for it. But we can pay for it.\nThe first major study of the economic impact of OA policies was conducted by John Houghton and Peter Sheehan in 2006. Using conservative estimates that a nation’s gross expenditure on research and development (GERD) brings social returns of 50 percent, and that OA increases access and efficiency by 5 percent, Houghton and Sheehan calculated that a transition to OA would not only pay for itself, but add $1.7 billion/year to the UK economy and $16 billion/year to the U.S. economy. A later study focusing on Australia used the more conservative estimate that GERD brings social returns of only 25 percent, but still found that the bottom-line economic benefits of OA for publicly funded research were 51 times greater than the costs.\nIndependent confirmation of Houghton’s results came in a major study released in April 2011, commissioned by the UK Joint Information Systems Committee, Publishing Research Consortium, Research Information Network, Research Libraries UK, and the Wellcome Trust. After studying five scenarios for improving research access, it concluded that green and gold OA “offer the greatest potential to policy-makers in promoting access. Both have positive, and potentially high, BCRs [benefit-cost ratios]. . . .”\nThe same study noted that “the infrastructure for Green [OA] has largely already been built” and therefore that “increasing access by this route is especially cost-effective. . . .” I can add that repositories scale up more easily than journals to capture unmet demand, and that depositing in a repository costs the depositor nothing. For all these reasons, I’ll focus in this chapter on how to pay for gold OA (journals), not how to pay for green OA (repositories).\nBefore turning to gold OA, however, I should note that there are widely varying estimates in the literature on what it costs a university to run an institutional repository. The divergence reflects the fact that repositories can serve many different purposes, and that some repositories serve more of them than others. If the minimum purpose is to host OA copies of faculty articles, and if faculty deposit their own articles, then the cost is minimal. But a repository is a general-purpose tool, and once launched there are good reasons for it to take on other responsibilities, such as long-term preservation, assisting faculty with digitization, permissions, and deposits, and hosting many other sorts of content, such as theses and dissertations, books or book chapters, conference proceedings, courseware, campus publications, digitized special collections, and administrative records. If the average repository is a significant expense today, the reason is that the average repository is doing significantly more than the minimum.\nOA journals pay their bills the way broadcast television and radio stations do—not through advertising or pledge drives, but through a simple generalization on advertising and pledge drives. Those with an interest in disseminating the content pay the production costs upfront so that access can be free of charge for everyone with the right equipment. Elsewhere I’ve called this the “some pay for all” model.\nSome OA journals have a subsidy from a university, library, foundation, society, museum, or government agency. Other OA journals charge a publication fee on accepted articles, to be paid by the author or the author’s sponsor (employer or funder). The party paying the subsidy or fee covers the journal’s expenses and readers pay nothing.\nOA journals that charge publication fees tend to waive them in cases of economic hardship, and journals with institutional subsidies tend not to charge publication fees. OA journals can diversify their funding and get by on lower subsidies, or lower fees, if they also have revenue from print editions, advertising, priced add-ons, or auxiliary services. Some institutions and consortia arrange fee discounts, or purchase annual memberships that include fee waivers or discounts for all affiliated researchers.\nModels that work well in some fields and nations may not work as well in others. No one claims that one size fits all. There’s still room for creativity in finding ways to pay the costs of a peer-reviewed OA journal, and many smart and motivated people are exploring different possibilities. Journals announce new variations almost every week, and we’re far from exhausting our cleverness and imagination.\nGreen OA may suffer from invisibility, but gold OA does not. On the contrary, researchers who don’t know about OA repositories still understand that there are OA journals. Sometimes the visibility gap is so large that researchers, journalists, and policy-makers conclude that all OA is gold OA (see section 3.1 on green and gold OA). As a result, most researchers who think about the benefits of OA think about the benefits of gold OA. Here, at least, the news is good. The most comprehensive survey to date shows that an overwhelming 89 percent of researchers from all fields believe that OA journals are beneficial to their fields.\nApart from the myth that all OA is gold OA, the most common myth about gold OA is that all OA journals charge “author fees” or use an “author-pays” business model. There are three mistakes here. The first is to assume that there is only one business model for OA journals, when there are many. The second is to assume that charging an upfront fee means authors are the ones expected to pay it. The third is to assume that all or even most OA journals charge upfront fees. In fact, most OA journals (70 percent) charge no upfront or author-side fees at all. By contrast, most toll-access journals (75 percent) do charge author-side fees. Moreover, even within the minority of fee-based OA journals, only 12 percent of those authors end up paying the fees out of pocket. Almost 90 percent of the time, the fees at fee-based journals are waived or paid by sponsors on behalf of authors.\nTerminology\nThe terms “author fees” and “author pays” are specious and damaging. They’re false for the majority of OA journals, which charge no fees. They’re also misleading even for fee-based OA journals, where nearly nine times out of ten the fees are not paid by authors themselves. It’s more accurate to speak of “publication fees,” “processing fees,” or “author-side fees.” The first two don’t specify the payor, and the third merely specifies that the payment comes from the author side of the transaction, rather than the reader side, without implying that it must come from authors themselves.\nThe false beliefs that most OA journals charge author-side fees and that most toll-access journals don’t have caused several kinds of harm. They scare authors away from OA journals. They support the misconception that gold OA excludes indigent authors. When we add in the background myth that all OA is gold OA, this misconception suggests that OA as such—and not just gold OA—excludes indigent authors.\nThese false beliefs also support the insinuation that OA journals are more likely than non-OA journals to compromise on peer review. But if charging author-side fees for accepted papers really creates an incentive to lower standards, in order to rake in more fees, then most toll-access journals are guilty and most OA journals are not. In fact, however, when OA journals do charge author-side fees, they create firewalls between their financial and editorial operations. For example, most fee-based OA journals will waive their fees in cases of economic hardship, and take pains to prevent editors and referees engaged in peer review from knowing whether or not an author has requested a fee waiver. By contrast, at toll-access journals levying author-side page or color charges, editors generally know that accepted papers will entail revenue.\nThe false belief that most OA journals charge author-side fees also infects studies in which authors misinform survey subjects before surveying them. In effect: “At OA journals, authors pay to be published; now let me ask you a series of questions about your attitude toward OA journals.”\nFinally, this false belief undermines calculations about who would bear the financial brunt if we made a general transition from toll-access journals to OA journals. A handful of studies have calculated that after a general conversion of peer-reviewed journals to OA, high-output universities would pay more in author-side fees than they pay now in subscriptions. These calculations make at least two assumptions unjustified by present facts or trends: that all OA journals would charge fees, and that all fees would be paid by universities.\nThere are two kinds of OA journals, full and hybrid. Full OA journals provide OA to all their research articles. Hybrid OA journals provide OA to some and toll-access to others, when the choice is the author’s rather than the editor’s. Most hybrid OA journals charge a publication fee for the OA option. Authors who can find the money get immediate OA, and those who can’t or prefer not to, get toll access. (Many hybrid OA journals provide OA to all their articles after some time period, such as a year.) Some hybrid OA journals promise to reduce subscription prices in proportion to author uptake of the OA option, that is, to charge subscribers only for the toll-access articles. But most hybrid journal publishers don’t make this promise and “double dip” by charging subscription fees and publication fees for the same OA articles.\nHybrid OA is very low-risk for publishers. If the OA option has low uptake, the publisher loses nothing and still has subscription revenue. If it has high uptake, the publisher has subscription revenue for the conventional articles, publication fees for the OA articles, and sometimes both at once for the OA articles. Hence, the model has spread far and fast. The Professional/Scholarly Publishing division of the Association of American Publishers reported in 2011 that 74 percent of surveyed journals offering some form of OA in 2009 offered hybrid OA. At the same time, SHERPA listed more than 90 publishers offering hybrid OA options, including all of the largest publishers. Despite its spread, hybrid OA journals do little or nothing to help researchers, libraries, or publishers. The average rate of uptake for the OA option at hybrid journals is just 2 percent.\nThe chief virtue of hybrid OA journals is that they give publishers some firsthand experience with the economics and logistics of OA publishing. But the economics are artificial, since hybrid OA publishers have no incentive to increase author uptake and make the model succeed. The publishers always have subscriptions to fall back on. Moreover, an overwhelming majority of full-OA journals charge no publication fees and the overwhelming majority of hybrid-OA journals never gain firsthand experience with no-fee business models.\nA growing number of for-profit OA publishers are making profits, and a growing number of nonprofit OA publishers are breaking even or making surpluses. Two different business models drive these sustainable publishing programs. BioMed Central makes profits and the Public Library of Science makes surpluses by charging publication fees. MedKnow makes profits without charging publication fees by selling priced print editions of its OA journals.\nFee-based OA journals tend to work best in fields where most research is funded, and no-fee journals tend to work best in fields and countries where comparatively little research is funded. The successes of these two business models give hope that gold OA can be sustainable in every discipline.\nEvery kind of peer-reviewed journal can become more sustainable by reducing costs. Although peer review is generally performed by unpaid volunteers, organizing or facilitating peer review is an expense. The journal must select referees, distribute files to referees, monitor who has what, track progress, nag dawdlers, collect comments and share them with the right people, facilitate communication, distinguish versions, and collect data on acceptances and rejections. One powerful way to reduce costs without reducing quality is to use free and open-source journal management software to automate the clerical tasks on this list.\nThe leader in this field is Open Journal Systems from the Public Knowledge Project, but there are more than a dozen other open-source packages. While OJS or other open-source software could benefit even toll-access journals, their use is concentrated among OA journals. OJS alone is has more than 9,000 installations (though not all are used for managing journals). This is not merely an example of how one openness movement can help another but also of how fearing openness can lead conventional publishers to forgo financial benefits and leave money on the table.\nThere are reasons to think that OA journals cost less to produce than toll-access journals of the same quality. OA journals dispense with subscription management (soliciting, negotiating, tracking, renewing subscribers), dispense with digital rights management (authenticating users, distinguishing authorized from unauthorized, blocking access to unauthorized), eliminate legal fees for licensing (drafting, negotiating, monitoring, and enforcing restrictive licenses), and reduce or eliminate marketing. In their place they add back little more than the cost of collecting publication fees or institutional subsidies. Several studies and OA publishers have testified to these lower costs.\nWe shouldn’t count the savings from dropping print, since most toll-access journals in the sciences have already dropped their print editions and those in the humanities are moving in the same direction.\nWe should be suspicious when large, venerable, conventional publishers say that in their experience the economics of OA publishing don’t work. Print-era publishers retooling for digital, and toll-access publishers retooling for OA, will inevitably realize smaller savings from OA than lean, mean OA start-ups without legacy equipment, personnel, or overhead from the age of print and subscriptions.\nAbout one-quarter of all peer-reviewed journals today are OA. Like toll-access journals, some are in the black and thriving and some are in the red and struggling. However, the full range of OA journals begins to look like a success story when we consider that the vast majority of the money needed to support peer-reviewed journals is currently tied up in subscriptions to conventional journals. OA journals have reached their current numbers and quality despite the extraordinary squeeze on budgets devoted to the support of peer-reviewed journals.\nEven if OA journals had the same production costs as toll-access journals, there’s enough money in the system to pay for peer-reviewed OA journals in every niche where we currently have peer-reviewed toll-access journals, and at the same level of quality. In fact, there’s more than enough, since we wouldn’t have to pay publisher profit margins surpassing those at ExxonMobil. Jan Velterop, the former publisher of BioMed Central, once said that OA publishing can be profitable but will “bring profit margins more in line with the added value.”\nTo support a full range of high-quality OA journals, we don’t need new money. We only need to redirect money we’re currently spending on peer-reviewed journals.\n                                         \n                                          There are many kinds of redirection. One is the voluntary conversion of toll-access journals to OA. Conversion could be a journal’s grudging response to declining library budgets for toll-access journals and exclusion from the big deals that take the lion’s share of library budgets. It could be a grudging response to its own past price increases and rising levels of green OA (see chapter 8 on casualties). Or it could be a hopeful and enthusiastic desire to achieve the benefits of OA for authors (greater audience and impact), readers (freedom from price and permission barriers), and publishers themselves (increased readership, citations, submissions, and quality).\nAnother kind of redirection is the rise of OA journal funds at universities. Even during times of declining budgets, libraries are setting aside money to pay publication fees at fee-based OA journals. The funds help faculty choose OA journals for their new work and help build a sustainable alternative to toll-access journals.\nRedirection is also taking place on a large scale, primarily through CERN’s SCOAP3 project (Sponsoring Consortium for Open Access Publishing in Particle Physics). SCOAP3 is an ambitious plan to convert all the major toll-access journals in particle physics to OA, redirect the money formerly spent on reader-side subscription fees to author-side publication fees, and reduce the overall price to the journal-supporting institutions. It’s a peaceful revolution based on negotiation, consent, and self-interest. After four years of patiently building up budget pledges from libraries around the world, SCOAP3 entered its implementation phase in in April 2011.\nIf SCOAP3 succeeds, it won’t merely prove that CERN can pull off ambitious projects, which we already knew. It will prove that this particular ambitious project has an underlying win-win logic convincing to stakeholders. Some of the factors explaining the success of SCOAP3 to date are physics-specific, such as the small number of targeted journals, the green OA culture in physics embraced even by toll-access publishers, and the dominance of CERN. Other factors are not physics-specific, such as the evident benefits for research institutions, libraries, funders, and publishers. A success in particle physics would give hope that the model could be lifted and adapted to other fields without their own CERN-like institutions to pave the way. Other fields would not need CERN-like money or dominance so much as CERN-like convening power to bring the stakeholders to the table. Then the win-win logic would have a chance to take over from there.\nMark Rowse, former CEO of Ingenta, sketched another strategy for large-scale redirection in December 2003. A publisher could “flip” its toll-access journals to OA at one stroke by reinterpreting the payments it receives from university libraries as publication fees for a group of authors rather than subscription fees for a group of readers. One advantage over SCOAP3 is that the Rowsean flip can be tried one journal or one publisher at a time, and doesn’t require discipline-wide coordination. It could also scale up to the largest publishers or the largest coalitions of publishers.\nWe have to be imaginative but we don’t have to improvise. There are some principles we can try to follow. Money freed up by the cancellation or conversion of peer-reviewed TA journals should be spent first on peer-reviewed OA journals, to ensure the continuation of peer review. Large-scale redirection is more efficient than small-scale redirection. Peaceful revolution through negotiation and self-interest is more amicable and potentially more productive than adaptation forced by falling asteroids.\nFor the record, I advocate redirecting money freed up by cancellations or conversions, not canceling journals in order to free up money (except with SCOAP3 or Rowse-like consent and negotiation). This may look like hair-splitting, but the difference is neither small nor subtle. It’s roughly the difference between having great expectations and planning to kill your parents.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What would the general impact of OA policies on the revenue of entire countries be? ", "question_unique_id": "99929_HT54BDU8_1", "options": ["It would increase the gross domestic production", "It would decrease the gross domestic production ", "It would have no effect on the economies of entire countries ", "It would only effect the countries with smaller economies "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How are OA journals able to generate enough income to continue operating? ", "question_unique_id": "99929_HT54BDU8_2", "options": ["By using funding from public sources ", "By selling blocks of subscriptions to organizations", "All of the other choices are correct ", "By charging a fee for publishing articles "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do researchers feel that the existence of OA journals effects their fields?", "question_unique_id": "99929_HT54BDU8_3", "options": ["They feel it has a positive impact ", "They feel that it has a complex impact that is both positive in some ways and negative in others ", "They feel it has a negative impact ", "They feel it has no impact"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How are authors expected to pay publishing fees for journals?", "question_unique_id": "99929_HT54BDU8_4", "options": ["By crowdfunding from end users", "By using sponsor funding ", "Journals are barred from charging publishing fees ", "Out of their own pocket "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are authors dissuaded from using OA journals? ", "question_unique_id": "99929_HT54BDU8_5", "options": ["A lack of rights retention as it relates to their own content ", "OA journals always have a publication fee that authors must pay ", "Misleading information and surveys from toll-based research", "Toll-based journals offer a higher quality content "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How are hybrid OA journals different from full OA journals? ", "question_unique_id": "99929_HT54BDU8_6", "options": ["Hybrid OA journals employ green OA practices while full OA journals employ gold OA practices", "Hybrid OA journals have some toll-access content and some OA content ", "Hybrid OA journals are much riskier for publishers ", "Hybrid OA journals only have toll-access content "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is one way that OA journals have started to turn a profit? ", "question_unique_id": "99929_HT54BDU8_7", "options": ["Offering paid physical copies of the journal ", "Selling blocks of subscriptions to academic institutions ", "Increasing the amount of toll-access subscriptions", "No longer charging authors to publish content in journals"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "In which situations do fee-based journals have the most positive impact? ", "question_unique_id": "99929_HT54BDU8_8", "options": ["Research fields that are underfunded", "Whenever the topic undergoes large amounts of peer-review", "Research fields that are heavily funded", "Whenever the topic does not undergo any peer-review"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu/pub/ndd08idp/release/2", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu"}
{"article_id": "99911", "set_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "New work order", "year": 2016, "author": "Geraldine Bedell", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "New work order\nIn March 2015, it was time for Hayden Wood and Amit Gudka to move out of the kitchen. The pair had raised investment for their startup, Bulb, a renewable energy supplier, and they were looking for an office.  \n\n A coworking space was the obvious choice: somewhere that would allow them to take on more desks as needed. (When I meet them a little over a year later, they were eight strong and hiring around one more each month.) \"We looked at a few different spaces,\" says Wood, who had previously spent 10 years in management consultancy for Monitor Group (now Monitor Deloitte) and Bain & Company. \"Second Home had been open a few months and we took the tour. We were nervous: were we going to get in?\" \n\n It is odd, perhaps, to think of the renting of office space as a socially testing business, entailing pre-interview nerves. But acceptance into Second Home, for some, signifies hipness. Juliette Morgan, partner at Cushman & Wakefield, a property consultancy, who works out of Second Home, says: \"I used to joke that there was a cool alarm that went off when people came to look round – but then they let us in.\" \n\n Morgan's case may have been helped by her previous role as head of property for Tech City, the government initiative promoted by David Cameron's advisor Rohan Silva, who also happens to be the co-founder of Second Home. Wood admits that he and Gudka, who previously traded energy at Barclays for eight years, did know some people at Second Home already. \"When we looked on the website, some of the faces were familiar. And we hoped our business idea was quite good.\"\nWhen I arrive at the Second Home reception desk, a sign urges me to \"join us tonight at 3.30pm for meditation.\" Before that, there's the option to have lunch at the atrium restaurant, Jago, founded by a former head chef of Ottolenghi and the former general manager of Morito. Today, there are cauliflower fritters made with lentil flour (gluten-free), which you can eat while admiring the exuberant architecture of Spanish firm SelgasCano, which has transformed the former carpet warehouse near Brick Lane: a plexiglass bubble punched out of the front of the building, sweeping curved walls, a wide cantilevered staircase up to the pod-like offices on the first floor.\nThe benches are orange, the floors yellow. (\"There is quite a lot of science behind the colours, to do with improving mood and productivity,\" says Morgan.) Flowers flop in elegant vases and masses of plants sit in pots on sills, desks and walls. A row of fruit trees is in blossom outside. The exposed concrete pillars look unfinished, with scribble and tags still visible. Sam Aldenton, Silva's co-founder, has sourced 600 mid-century modern chairs from all over Europe.\n\"It's an aesthetic that tells an investor you're being frugal with their money,\" says Morgan, \"but it's also playful and energetic and that works for your brand. For us, it tells the tech companies we want to work with that we understand them. Coworking spaces say something about you, that you're a Second Home business or a Central Working business.\" \n\n Being a Second Home business gives you access to others that have also made the grade. \"We had a strong business plan, but there were other things we didn't have,\"says Wood. \"Someone at Second Home recommended our branding agency, Ragged Edge. Congregation Partners, who are here, have helped with recruiting; and we met Blue State Digital [a digital strategy agency that worked on Obama's election campaign, whose London office is based at Second Home] in the bar one Friday night and they offered us a workshop about how to market and launch. It's an extremely generous collaborative culture.\"\nOther kinds of business at Second Home include venture capitalists; the European headquarters of chore-outsourcing company TaskRabbit; and ASAP54, an app that scans online fashion and locates where to buy it. Silva and Aldenton curate events that help them to network and that offer a kind of intellectual support and ballast – so Amit Gudka, a fan of the South African theoretical physicist Neil Turok was able to hear him speak at Second Home and afterwards have dinner with him and Silva. \n\n Wood and Gudka's first post-kitchen office was in Second Home's roaming area, where freelancers come and go. A desk costs £350 a month; they are sold several times over (a four-to-one ratio is thought to ensure the right level of occupancy without straining supply). The pair subsequently moved into a studio, then a larger office; they will take a bigger space upstairs when the refurbishment of three upper floors is completed. \"It doesn't feel like being a tenant,\" says Wood. \"The community team here has taught us a lot about how to interact with our own members.\" \n\n We are all members now, it seems. Business ventures are turning themselves into clubs, making what used to be banal choices about office space or energy supply statements of identity. There was no shortage of office options for Wood and Gudka, and all of them carried connotations about what kind of business they meant to be: incubators and accelerators run by different sorts of organisations; hacker spaces; industry- and sector-coworking spaces; more traditional office rentals from companies like Regus and Workspace; and all manner of coworking spaces, from scruffy coops to coworking empires.  \n\n Coworking began because startups and freelancers, typically in tech and the creative industries, needed somewhere to work. But as more organisations outsource more of their operations – or as large corporates seek to reach those startups – the range of activities represented among coworkers has expanded to comprehend almost everything. KPMG’s tech startup advice arm is based at Interchange in Camden. Merck, Microsoft, American Express and GE all lease desks at WeWork, in addition to running their own offices. \n\n The annual Global Coworking Survey, produced by Deskmag, anticipates that 10,000 new coworking spaces will open worldwide in 2016. In Europe, the estimated number of spaces (though it's hard to keep track) has risen from 3,400 in 2013 to around 7,800 in 2016. According to Cushman & Wakefield's Juliette Morgan, \"Twelve per cent of the uptake in the London market in the last year has been spaces like this. Everyone thinks it's going to continue.\"\nAt a purely economic level, it's easy to see why. As large corporates downsize their core operations, they no longer need vast offices. Iris Lapinski watched the process in action when her educational non-profit startup, Apps for Good, squatted in Royal Bank of Scotland’s offices in the City in late 2008. \"RBS was going through huge waves of redundancies. On our floor, it was three of us and 150 empty desks,\" she says, \"and then new people would come in and they'd get fired too. Eventually they'd fired so many people they closed down the building.\" Aware that \"tech companies were doing something funkier\", she moved Apps for Good into the Trampery, the first coworking space in Shoreditch. \n\n Adam Neumann and Miguel McKelvey founded WeWork in 2010 in New York to capitalise on this corporate downsizing phenomenon: leasing large spaces, often previous corporate offices, subdividing them, then selling them at a profit. WeWork typically rents its buildings (although it owns its latest London site in Paddington) then subleases the space – with, according to Fast Company, average gross margins of 60 per cent. \n\n The model has proved so successful that WeWork now has 103 locations in 29 cities worldwide. The company will open five new coworking spaces in London this year, bringing the total to 11, with Paddington large enough for 2,100 'members'. The company recently authorised the sale of up to $780m in new stock, giving it a $16bn valuation and making it, on paper, the sixth most valuable private startup in the world. \n\n The Freelancers' Union in the US claims that 30 per cent of the US working population is now freelance, and predicts a rise to 50 per cent by 2035. One in eight London workers are self-employed. But the unstoppable rise and rise of coworking isn't simply about corporate downsizing and the growth of the startup and the gig economy, significant though these are. \n\n What distinguishes contemporary coworking spaces is the nature of their cultural claims. A study by Harvard Business Review found that coworkers believe their work has more meaning. The authors suggested that working alongside people doing different things reinforces workers' identity and distinctiveness; that coworkers feel they have more control over their lives (many spaces are open 24/7); that they have a stronger sense of community; and that there is still a social mission inherent in the idea of coworking, as outlined in the Coworking manifesto, and reinforced by the annual Global Coworking UnConference or GCUC (pronounced 'juicy'). WeWork's website urges you to \"Create your life's work\".  \n\n \"Do what you love\" is one of WeWork's slogans, emblazoned on the front of a notebook they give me when I visit. Another is \"Thank God it's Monday\". Neumann describes his generation (he is 36) as the 'we generation' which, he explains, \"cares about the world, actually wants to do cool things, and loves working.\" \n\n The coworking space – even on a vast, industrial scale as at WeWork – is a club. And the whole point of clubs is that you want to belong to them. To someone raised in the era of the corporate office, used to the subversive feeling of being behind enemy lines, this may seem an odd way to think about the workplace. To anyone for whom The Office of Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant was painfully recognisable, with its grey partitions and random people thrown together to do pretty pointless things and get on each other's nerves, it might seem risible.  \n\n But clearly lots of people want this. A paradoxical effect of the internet has been to make us desire more social connection in the real world. From coffee shops to festivals to gyms, examples are everywhere of people keen to come together and share experiences. \n\n As we have to rely more on ourselves and on our own resources at work, it's probably not surprising that we seek out the reassuring sight of other people doing the same. As Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri say in their 2012 book, Declaration, \"The centre of gravity of capitalist production no longer resides in the factory but has drifted outside its walls. Society has become a factory.\" \n\n Work has blurred into life, in part owing to the peculiar nature of our current relationship to technology. We do not conceive of machines, as we did in the past, as engines of oppression, exploiting workers; rather, we frame our devices as intimate and personal, interactive and fun, blurring the distinctions between work and play.  \n\n We tend not, for example, to view posting on Facebook as labour, even though there are perfectly good economic arguments why we should. The eight hours' work, eight hours' leisure, eight hours' rest fought for so fiercely in the 19th century has become meaningless in an era when we willingly, eagerly, spend 12 hours a day on a laptop.  \n\n As work becomes increasingly unpredictable and permeable, in a way that reflects the internet itself, workspaces are imagined more as social landscapes. Increasingly, they are designed for serendipitous encounters, emotional expression, explorations of identity. Of course, you could take the cynical view that the imperative of productivity has now colonised every aspect of our lives, that our private relationships have become 'social capital', that even our intimate interactions have been turned into a kind of labour. Or you could say, as coworking enthusiasts tend to, that work has got a whole lot more fun. \n\n Whatever, this shift in our sense of work helps to explain why workplaces have increasingly come to resemble clubs, and why no one is falling about laughing at the idea of Silva and Aldenton calling their workspace Second Home. The workspace has become an expression of identity – which raises two questions:  first, if coworking is all about finding a space to express your individualism, follow your passions, explore your creativity, why do the spaces all look so alike? And second, if the workplace is all about belonging to a club and clubs are by their nature exclusive, how scalable is that?\nThere are new buildings rising all around WeWork Moorgate, in the City of London; an insistent noise of drilling, a clang of girders, a rumble of concrete mixers. This is some of the most expensive real estate in the world. Crossrail's engineers are tunnelling beneath; giant new buildings advertise themselves on construction hoardings everywhere at street level: there is a provisional air, as though the city can't quite catch up with its own wealth.\nWeWork Moorgate is the second largest coworking space in the UK after WeWork Paddington, accommodating 3,000 people over eight floors. A permanent desk will cost you £425 a month, rising to £675 depending on its location in the building. A one-person office will set you back £725 to £825 a month, a four-person £2,600 to £3,100. The largest office here is for 40 people; in Paddington, one company has 230 desks. \n\n The interior ticks all the coworking style boxes: raw concrete; exposed ceilings revealing air conditioning ducts, pipes and silvered insulation; multicoloured upholstery; a kitchen with its own island bar offering free tea, coffee and craft beer; easy chairs and sofas; tables of varying heights and sizes; music; and some signifiers of fun, such as a table tennis table (but, unlike at WeWork's South Bank site, no arcade machines; nor, unlike at its Devonshire Square, any skateboards on the walls). \n\n In the toilet, cups for mouthwash urge you to 'stay fresh', which I am sure is meant jocularly but which arouses in me the same sort of mulish resentment I used to feel when I worked in advertising in my twenties and slogans in reception ordered me to \"reach for the stars\". (What makes you think I wouldn't, mate?). \n\n Given that coworking, which after all grew out of hacker culture, is supposed to embody an attitude of resistance to conventional authority, WeWork is curiously corporate, certainly in its approach to communication. I am asked not to quote the community manager who shows me around. There isn't anyone who can speak on the record (or off it, for that matter) in the building. My queries have to be submitted in writing then edited down because there are too many of them. The answers come back, finally, appended: \"All attributable to Eugen Miropolski, Managing Director, Europe\". \n\n Eugen Miropolski, Managing Director, Europe, says that WeWork is \"much more than an office space provider. Members are given the space, community and services they need to create their life's work\". Going around the building, what you mainly notice is that the spaces allotted to people's life's work are rather tiny and cramped. Effectively off corridors, they seem rather conventional behind their glass partitions: a desk, a chair, a lamp, a drawer. Many coworkers sit with their backs to their colleagues, staring at blank walls, with barely enough space for a third person to pass between them. You need a keycard to get anywhere inside the building.  \n\n WeWork's enthusiasts, though, emphasise the connections they make with others, either physically or through an app that links members to 50,000 others worldwide. Miropolski claims \"more than 70 per cent of our members collaborate with each other\".  \n\n This empire of office space has been derided as 'McCoworking'; but another way of looking at it might simply be that it's a sign of natural segmentation as the market matures. Many workspace providers set up because they wanted some office space themselves; they have no desire to be other than local, small-scale and collaborative. But others are starting to take on a role as akind of corporate parent. Canada's Coworking Ontario provides health insurance. WeWork is also reported to be looking at providing discounts on healthcare, payroll and shipping, replicating services that a corporate employer might once have provided. \n\n Meanwhile, at the other end of the scale, coffee shop-workspace hybrid Timberyard is dematerialising the desk, providing mobile workers who need to sit down and check their emails with the most ad hoc of workspaces. Most of Timberyard's users don't pay for space, the usual coworking business model, but they do pay for the tea and coffee (\"award-winning\", co-founder Darren Elliott is keen to point out) and for the artisan-produced, wellness-focused food (super seeds with almond butter on toast, beetroot, avocado and hummus on toast, hibiscus cake). Unlike most coffee shops, Timberyard's branches in Seven Dials and Soho are designed to encourage customers to stay and work: there is fast Wi-Fi with plentiful power sockets, careful regulation of temperature, lots of natural light and attentive design. Many of the chairs have been rescued from skips and reupholstered; the tables are striped like Jim Lambie staircases; the disabled toilet looks like a shipping container. \n\n In the last couple of months, Timberyard has renting out permanent desks in the basement of its Soho branch and now hosts three companies, one of eight people, one of 12 and one of 20. But Elliott says the shop upstairs will always be open to the street and the public. Typically, workers stay for a couple of hours, but they might be there for 20 minutes or all day. \"We believe this is the way people will work in the future,\" Elliott says, surveying a sea of laptops: \"portable, connected, independent and collaborative, sharing resources and seeking out inspiring spaces.\" Timberyard intends to become a way station for the digital nomad.\nThe logical extension of the elision of work and home life is that the same organisations might end up providing both. WeWork is experimenting with micro apartments in two locations: in New York and at Crystal City, outside Washington DC. Second Home is also believed to have Roam, which began in Bali, intends to build a global co-living network, with its offer: \"Sign one lease. Live around the world.\" From its initial base in Ubud, it has expanded into Miami and recently Madrid; Buenos Aires and London are 'coming soon'. Roam isn't simply about a bed for the night: it sells itself partly on the quality of its coworking offer. In Bali, the office space is on the roof, under a palm thatch, with a swimming pool in the courtyard below.  \n\n Coworking organisations increasingly see a market in digital nomads: if you can work from a coffee shop in Seven Dials, why not a rooftop in Bali? It's not even necessary to have a string of spaces across the world to attract drop-ins from elsewhere:Coworking Visa andCoPass offer 'passports' that guarantee a certain amount of time in any of their participating spaces. \n\n The Trampery, the pioneering coworking organisation in London that attracted Iris Lapinski, is now moving into co-living. Founded by the sociologist-entrepreneur-musician-traveller-dandy Charles Armstrong, The Trampery currently has three spaces, at Old Street, near City Hall, and in Hackney Wick. Armstrong began with a cross-sector workspace but now specialises in fashion and retail at Old St, travel and tourism at London Bridge, and digital artists, fashion and design in Hackney, finding this a better way to create 'intentional communities' and secure corporate partnerships.  \n\n In what Armstrong calls \"a somewhat unconventional deal with Peabody\", the Trampery is about to start building Fish Island Village in Hackney Wick: a co-living space that will also include traditional social housing. This experiment is partly a response to the pricing out of London of artists and other creatives and partly an attempt \"to move beyond a single workspace to think about a neighbourhood\". \n\n When Fish Island Village is built, the Trampery will curate its inhabitants based on what Armstrong describes as a mix of \"means testing and merit testing\". Rather than the usual micro-apartment model, \"cellular units with a cavernous social area\", Fish Island Village will have communal spaces for up to six bedrooms, \"more like a large family. There will still be a members' club, shared by everyone.\" The development won't be aimed solely at affluent 18- to 30-year-olds, but will include flats of up to four bedrooms, suitable for people with children. \"We don't want to create a single-generational demographic bubble.\"\nThe single generation demographic bubble is of course the trouble with all this curation. Even while lip service is paid to ideas of innovation coming from unexpected places, from unlikely collisions and random connections, it is a very tough-minded curator who doesn't seek to be surrounded by people who are basically a bit like himself. With coworking spaces, as with the internet, there is the promise of connection and collaboration and a world of newness and surprise. And, as with the internet, there is a danger that you can easily end up talking either to people just like yourself. \n\n So what of those questions about style and scalability? As far as the former is concerned, coworking spaces do all look a little bit alike – but design has a long history of innovators and followers. Inevitably, everyone borrows the more directional visual cues, even to the point of pastiche. \n\n But they are not, in fact, all alike. They are surprising in their degree of difference. There are industrial-scale operators that lack the warmth and personal touches of the smaller providers (no one at WeWork is ever going to come out of the kitchen as you arrive, knowing your name and whom you're here to visit, which is what happens at the Trampery); but which also lack their preciousness about who is allowed to the party. And then there are the cool clubs that everyone in their right mind would want to join, but where few are chosen.  \n\n It seems likely that coworking spaces will follow a pattern set by festivals. They will proliferate, each developing its own distinctive vibe, projecting an array of differing identities while all answering a need for the increasingly autonomous workers of the future to hang out with other people.  \n\n Meanwhile, the current excitement over coworking may have less to do with a method of office organisation than with a handful of hugely successful connectors. When Iris Lapinski moved out of RBS, she chose the Trampery partly because \"Charles draws in interesting people. He's got links to corporates, government, policymakers.\" One of these connections turned out to be Bob Schukai, head of advanced product innovation at Thomson Reuters, which led directly to £300,000 of sponsorship revenue for Apps for Good. \"Charles is a great connector,\" Lapinsky says, \"and that is really what makes the Trampery so special. Most don't have the same flair.\"\nImages from top: WeWork Moorgate; Second Home; WeWork; The Trampery Old Street, Home of Publicis Drugstore; Timberyard; WeWork\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why were the creators of Bulb nervous about interviewing?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_1", "options": ["They were not sure they would be able to hire more people", "They were not sure they would be accepted into a co-working space", "They were not sure that they would be hired for the consultancy position", "They were not sure they would secure the investments"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why were the creators of Bulb optimistic about their interview?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_2", "options": ["They had plenty of applicants for the positions they were trying to fill ", "They knew a few people at the co-working space from previous ventures", "They were overqualified for the positions that they were interviewing for", "The co-working space was notoriously easy to work for"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a major benefit of having an office at Second Home?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_3", "options": ["Having on site apartments so that one does not have to commute to work", "Having an office space completely to your own company ", "It is an incredibly affordable work space for the price", "Having access to a large network of businesses to collaborate with "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What were the owners of Bulb able to learn from the Second Home community?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_4", "options": ["How to increase revenue without increasing sales ", "How to be good tenants ", "How to treat their own employees", "How to lease out work space to other people"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the main reason for the increase in popularity in co-working spaces?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_5", "options": ["Corporate offices downsizing their physical operations", "Main offices becoming too expensive", "Collaboration between companies becoming more commonplace ", "A lack of real estate for individual offices "], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the largest co-working model company mentioned in the article?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_6", "options": ["Apps for Good", "Bulb", "The Freelancers Union", "WeWork"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the community aspect of co-working space effect the productivity of workers?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_7", "options": ["It has a negative impact because the workers have to pay more in overhead costs", "It has a negative impact because the workers are more distracted", "It has no impact", "It has a positive impact because of the work-focused community aspect"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author claim has made humans want to interact in person more?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_8", "options": ["An increased use of digital socialization methods", "An increase collective worry about loss of work", "The popularity of the capitalist way of life", "Having to spend much more time in office situations"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author argue has happened to the relationship between work life and home life?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_9", "options": ["Work and home have become more intertwined in recent years", "There has been no change in the relationship between work and home life", "Work life has become more important than home life in recent years ", "Home life has become more important than work life in recent years"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author think to be the immediate next step in the advancing the co-working space?", "question_unique_id": "99911_QGCJUM40_10", "options": ["Adding lodging to the co-working spaces", "Adding coffee shops to the co-working space", "Building more co-working spaces in new cities", "Decreasing the price of the co-working rentals"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/spaces/coworking", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99914", "set_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1020", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "The end of the web", "year": 2017, "author": "Katja Bego", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "The end of the web\nIn the past year, as we have witnessed the upending of the political order, the internet has been the theatre where many of the battles have been fought: from the hacking and leaking of Democratic party emails, to the proliferation of fake news and alternative facts, and yes, the outpourings of @realDonaldTrump. \n\n With domestic and geopolitical tensions rising, governments are finding it increasingly hard to function amid a constant barrage of uncontrollable information and potential cyber-attacks, making them grow more wary both of the internet's influence and their ability to control it.\nThe fallout from this means we are facing the prospect of countries around the world pulling the plug on the open, global internet and creating their own independent networks. We might be about to see the end of the world wide internet as we know it.\nWith globalisation under attack, the ultimate bastion of borderlessness – the global internet – might very well be one the biggest scalps taken by the newly emerging world order heralded in by Brexit and Trump. If a global orthodoxy of free trade, soft power and international organisations is overpowered by belligerent nations and isolationism, the net will inevitably be swept away with it.\nYet although fragmentation – and ultimately also Balkanisation – will carry great social and economic cost, it could also be an opportunity. Europe, which has already been flexing its muscles when it comes to internet policy, now finds itself forced to rely less on US cooperation. It should therefore become a frontrunner in developing an alternative, decentralised internet, with its root values of fairness, openness and democracy restored. This could help the net – and indeed Europe – to become more resilient again. As much as we fear the 'splinternet', we should welcome the Euronet.\nWeaponisation of the internet\nSince we've become dependent on the internet for almost everything we do, dangers to the network's integrity threaten devastating effects. Governments may be tempted to turn inwards in an attempt to shield themselves and their citizens from cyber-attacks. \n\n \n\n Last October, unknown hackers used an array of badly secured 'internet of things' (IoT) devices to bring down most of the internet on the east coast of America in one of the largest DDoS (distributed denial-of-service) attacks to date. While depriving Americans of Amazon and Facebook for several hours was surely an inconvenience, the potential of the weaponised internet to do harm is infinitely greater. \n\n \n\n As more of the components of a country's critical infrastructure move online, the number of possible targets grows too. Hackers shut down a significant part of Ukraine's electricity grid in 2015, and crippled several important Estonian industries, including its banks, in 2007.\nMany cyber-security experts warn about the lacklustre defence of everything from air traffic control towers and voting machines to nuclear plants. One well-placed attack could do more damage than the most aggressive of traditional military campaigns, at a fraction of the cost. Because of the high degree of uncertainty surrounding cyber-capabilities – 'know your enemy' is a hard adage to follow if potential culprits and their capabilities are so tough to track – it has become impossible for governments to completely shield their countries from cyber-attacks. \n\n \n\n The growing urge to control the internet has also become apparent over the influence of so-called fake news. Distorting public opinion and fact as a manipulation technique is nothing new: it's been used since Roman times. But the relentless pace and scope with which the internet allows information to disseminate is quite unprecedented. Governments and the media (who have themselves often swapped truth for clicks) are having an increasingly hard time stemming the flow of biased or misleading news stories. So the democratic process suffers. \n\n \n\n The solutions offered by the reluctant tech giants providing a platform for fake news won't be sufficient to stop it altogether. This will prompt more countries to follow Russia and China in building their own platforms like VKontakte and Baidu, thus reducing foreign influence and allowing for extensive censorship and monitoring. The desire of developing countries to establish their own social networks will see them retreat into their own national bubbles.\nFragile infrastructure\nWhile cyber attacks and false information campaigns use the internet to attack the infrastructure by which our societies function, the internet's own infrastructure is also at risk. Despite the internet's ephemeral, lawless appeal, its underlying network of cables, tubes and wires is very much rooted in the physical world. Over 99 per cent of all global internet communications are facilitated by an impressive web of undersea cables, connecting all corners of the world. A submarine deliberately destroying one of these cables in a hard-to-reach place could bring down access to parts of the internet for weeks; and so, by extension, all the systems that rely upon it. \n\n \n\n The fallibility of this shared infrastructure also makes it impossible to keep foreign or hostile actors out of domestic affairs. Though governments that heavily restrict internet access might find it easier to prevent information from flowing in and out of the country, they are still reliant on the same co-owned systems, with some parts inevitably falling under other countries' jurisdictions. \n\n This became very clear after the 2013 Snowden revelations, which showed that the US routinely tapped into foreign internet traffic routed through the country. The massive scale of this monitoring even led then president of Brazil Dilma Rousseff to call for the construction of an undersea cable from Brazil directly to Europe, bypassing the prying eyes of the National Security Agency altogether. And US intelligence agencies are by no means the only ones doing this kind of snooping, as we know all too well. \n\n \n\n With various nations eyeing each other suspiciously and traditional alliances crumbling, building alternative structures to make foreign interference more difficult seems a logical consequence.\nWho rules the internet?\nIt won't just be the actual infrastructure and 'hard' elements of the internet where governments will seek more independence. Internet governance, the catch-all term to describe the processes and decisions that determine how the internet is managed, and how its technical norms and standards are set, is increasingly complex. \n\n \n\n In principle, no single actor should be in charge of the internet governance processes. Ideally, these should be overseen by a multi-stakeholder model where governments, the private sector and advocacy groups would have an equal voice and where anyone could be allowed to become involved. In practice, however, it is US government institutions and companies – yes, the usual suspects – that set the rules. They tend to be over-represented in meetings, and in charge of some of the largest regulatory bodies. American stewardship over the internet has long been an area of contention. Countries like China, Russia, and many (mainly developing) countries want more control over their own domestic networks, preferring to see the current model replaced by something more Westphalian, perhaps resembling the United Nations. \n\n This discussion will likely flair up again soon as the Trump administration seeks ways to reverse the Internet Assigned Numbers Authority (IANA) transition: an arcane but highly controversial policy issue. IANA is the agency in charge of maintaining the global DNS (Domain Name System) as well as managing Internet Protocol (IP) address allocation and other important basic structural functions of the internet. The internet’s IANA functions had traditionally been managed by the non-profit ICANN (the Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers), but remained under contract of the US Department of Commerce, which oversaw its processes – effectively leaving it under US government control. After almost 20 years of bickering and international kowtowing, IANA was brought under full ICANN control last October, finally becoming fully independent. This to the great dismay of many Republican lawmakers; particularly senator Ted Cruz, who has been fighting to stop the process for years. \n\n If the US government does decide to overturn the transition (and Trump has certainly shown enthusiasm for overturning decisions of the previous administration), it will do a lot of damage to the American-led governance process. How much credibility can it have when the most important partner doesn't even play by the rules? \n\n As these tensions increase, we'll likely see a push for more government bodies to take control of internet governance (such as the short-lived, Brazil-led NETMundial initiative), abandoning the more inclusive and cooperative approach involving businesses and civil society organisations. Then if the process fell even further apart, it would be a substantial challenge to the interoperable global internet, as regulations and standards swiftly went in different directions.\nThe Big Four\nThough the internet was initially heralded as the greatest democratiser of information since Gutenberg, most data now flows through only a handful of companies. Silicon Valley tech giants, with the 'Big Four' of Apple, Google, Facebook and Amazon at the helm, rake in most of the spoils of the all-conquering global online economy. \n\n In their ambition to expand even further, these tech companies are themselves also an important cause of internet fragmentation, erecting 'walled gardens' all over the world. Facebook's controversial Free Basics service, which offers free data plans to users in developing countries, but which restricts access to a small number of Facebook-approved websites, is a prime example. Some call it digital colonialism. \n\n These moves aimed at generating even more revenue, concentrated in the hands of the few as inequality rises, understandably cause concern among governments and citizens alike. But our main worry should not be about economics. The Big Four – controlling our data, as well as our access to information – wield an inordinate amount of power. Indeed, Denmark recently announced it would appoint a igital ambassador specifically to deal with these technology giants, citing their influence as larger than that of many countries. \n\n Citizens worldwide have become so dependent on these platforms that there are effectively no readily available alternatives to move to if things turn sour. The sheer scale of the Women's March and similar demonstrations in recent weeks would not have been possible without the ability to organise online. What if these channels fall away, their freedom restricted by companies under the yoke of a hostile government? \n\n Though many American technology companies have already pledged they will not assist with the creation of a 'Muslim registry' – and have pushed back on Trump’s latest immigration restrictions\n–\nwe have to be very aware that the amount of personal data they have on each of us would make it far too easy for them to do so. \n\n Foreign governments, which in the current political climate cannot rely on Google abiding by its mantra, 'Don't be evil', will aggressively start to pursue the construction of domestic alternatives. It is something we are already seeing happening worldwide.\nThe splinternet\nThough the dream of the web internet pioneers was one of a completely open, non-hierarchical internet, over the years barriers have been springing up that restrict this freedom. Bit by bit, the internet is becoming more cordoned off.  \n\n The idea of splitting up the internet into different, Balkanised internets – with a completely separate infrastructure – is not new. After the Snowden revelations, Germany took action and started looking into the construction of the 'Internetz', a German-only network (although one that allows for the possibility of expanding to the rest of the EU). \n\n We do not currently have an example of a real internet island in place, but the closest version we see is probably the Great Firewall of China. Though China hasn't built an entirely separate infrastructure, its internet looks entirely different from what we are used to, with content heavily censored and many platforms and websites completely banned. \n\n Russia appears to be following suit. Last November, Russia banned LinkedIn from operating in the country because the social network did not adhere to a new law decreeing that all data generated by Russian users should be stored within Russia itself. In recent weeks, news has also emerged that Moscow has been working with Beijing to implement something similar to the Great Firewall for its own domestic users. Democracies and autocracies alike have long come to understand the great power of the internet and have learned how to both harness and restrict it. \n\n Who will be the first to go it alone? It's difficult to say yet but the usual suspects are lining up: China; Russia; Europe; even Trump's America\n.\nOther countries like Brazil or Turkey might see a compelling reason to do so as well. \n\n Now that we are so used to a ubiquitous and global internet, it's hard to imagine what a world of fragmented, national internets might look like. What we do know is that the internet of fun and games, of unfettered access, is quickly coming to an end. When it does, it will be another big nail in the coffin for globalisation.\nBreaking free\nThe idea of a Balkanised internet, of different national and supranational internet islands, is a dark one. What living in such a future would look like, no one knows. Inevitably, though, it would herald a world of less mutual understanding, less shared prosperity and shrinking horizons. \n\n However, the fragmentation of the internet need not be bad news. As the limitations of its original incarnation are becoming increasingly clear, starting from scratch provides us with an important opportunity to right our initial wrongs. We can build a network or networks that are more ethical, inclusive and resilient to outside threats. \n\n While this is a moment of disharmony and uncertainty for the European project, the EU has much it agrees upon when it comes to policy and regulating the internet's mostly American corporate giants: from its ambitious data protection policies and the right to be forgotten, to Apple tax case. But it could do more. The global internet as we know it today began as a public space where everyone had an equal opportunity to use it as we liked. But it has quickly privatised, locking us into platforms that 'harvest' our data. As European citizens grow increasingly concerned about the negative impacts of the internet, the EU has a great opportunity. \n\n The EU should take a different approach to the internet and, rather than making it an unregulated free-for-all, consider it a 'commons': a public good open to all, excluding none. The EU could create and fund the infrastructure for this and help ensure safety for all. Meanwhile, small businesses and individuals would do their bit by creating a variety of tools to add to this commons, which would become fully interoperable through shared standards and underpinning technologies. \n\n One necessary component of such an internet commons is that it should be decentralised. Decentralising the internet and rethinking its structure would allow users to take back control over the network of networks, letting them manage their own personal data rather than giving it away to large companies, as well as offering them more choice over the tools they use. It is also often said that distributed internets would also inherently be much safer: largescale cyber-attacks are easier to prevent if we reduce the number of central nodes that traffic can travel through. \n\n But a European internet would above all need to be radically ambitious – especially with the EU in a fractured state. The rules for the decentralised, new internet are still wide open, and we have the opportunity to set them. The emergence of a new world order is forcing Europe to rethink itself, come closer together and defend its values in the world. Creating a completely new internet built around these values – and open to any like-minded country to join – might be one extraordinarily effective way of achieving it.\nThis is an extended version of a piece originally published in Nesta's 10 predictions for 2017 series\nCorrection 20 February 2017: this article was updated to correct a few instances of 'web' to 'internet'\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What does the author credit the recent dramatic change in politics to? ", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_1", "options": ["The internet as a political tool", "Geopolitical tension", "Government dysfunction", "The Democratic Party"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the author believe the current internet might end?", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_2", "options": ["The U.S. not being cooperative with the rest of the world", "The election of Donald Trump", "Rising geopolitical tensions caused by misuse of the internet ", "Brexit; Britain exiting the European Union"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What political movement does the author believe will lead to the destruction of the internet?", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_3", "options": ["Democracy", "Globalism", "Socialism", "Nationalism"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which location does the author think has the greatest potential to set the precedent for the new internet?", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_4", "options": ["China", "Russia", "Europe ", "U.S."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is one potential benefit of having a national internet that is not globally accessible?", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_5", "options": ["A cheaper cost for the consumers", "Increased government censorship ", "Increased security against cyber attacks", "Faster data transfer speeds "], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are countries deciding to build their own internet infrastructure?", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_6", "options": ["To create long term construction projects and the jobs that go with them", "To update old and decaying infrastructure", "To better protect against physical attacks on their internet", "To save the consumers in their countries money"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who does the author think should have decision-making authority when it comes to the internet?", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_7", "options": ["Governments", "Corporate Interests", "Social Advocate Groups ", "All of the other answers working cooperatively"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How did the Trump administration put stress on the global version of the internet?", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_8", "options": ["By allowing the Snowden revelations to be released", "By allowing the structural functions of the internet to fall out of US control ", "By threatening to retake control of many of the structural functions of the internet", "By increasing the price of access to the internet for everyday citizens"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do international governing bodies plan on dealing with the dominance of the internet by a handful of corporations?", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_9", "options": ["By censoring the internet in their countries and restricting citizens' access", "By organizing large scale protests such as the Women's March", "By sanctioning the governments of the countries where these corporations are located", "By creating their own domestic versions of the corporations"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What does the author argue as a global benefit to the internet becoming more fractured ", "question_unique_id": "99914_MT4095UT_10", "options": ["Better internet protocol and practices could be discovered by starting fresh", "It would lead to the internet being less centralized in the western world, particularly the U.S.", "It would allow organizations like the U.N. to operate more efficiently ", "Construction of new national internet infrastructure would help the global economy"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/forecasts/the-end-of-the-web", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "24290", "set_unique_id": "24290_66ER3O5Z", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "PRoblem", "year": 1960, "author": "Nourse, Alan Edward", "topic": "Human-alien encounters -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; PS", "article": "PRoblem\nby Alan E. Nourse\nThe\n letter came down the slot too early that morning to be\n the regular mail run. Pete Greenwood eyed the New Philly\n photocancel with a dreadful premonition. The letter said:\n\n\n Peter:\n\n Can you come East chop-chop, urgent?\n\n Grdznth problem getting to be a PRoblem, need\n\n expert icebox salesman to get gators out of hair fast.\n\n Yes? Math boys hot on this, citizens not so hot.\n\n Please come.\nTommy\n\n\n Pete tossed the letter down the gulper with a sigh. He had\n lost a bet to himself because it had come three days later than\n he expected, but it had come all the same, just as it always did\n when Tommy Heinz got himself into a hole.\n\n\n Not that he didn't like Tommy. Tommy was a good PR-man,\n as PR-men go. He just didn't know his own depth. PRoblem\n in a beady Grdznth eye! What Tommy needed right now was\n a Bazooka Battalion, not a PR-man. Pete settled back in\n the Eastbound Rocketjet with a sigh of resignation.\n\n\n He was just dozing off when the fat lady up the aisle let out\n a scream. A huge reptilian head had materialized out of nowhere\n and was hanging in air, peering about uncertainly. A\n scaly green body followed, four feet away, complete with long\n razor talons, heavy hind legs, and a whiplash tail with a needle\n at the end. For a moment the creature floated upside down, legs\n thrashing. Then the head and body joined, executed a horizontal\n pirouette, and settled gently to the floor like an eight-foot\n circus balloon.\n\n\n Two rows down a small boy let out a muffled howl and\n tried to bury himself in his mother's coat collar. An indignant\n wail arose from the fat lady. Someone behind Pete groaned\n aloud and quickly retired behind a newspaper.\n\n\n The creature coughed apologetically. \"Terribly sorry,\" he\n said in a coarse rumble. \"So difficult to control, you know.\n Terribly sorry....\" His voice trailed off as he lumbered down\n the aisle toward the empty seat next to Pete.\n\n\n The fat lady gasped, and an angry murmur ran up and down\n the cabin. \"Sit down,\" Pete said to the creature. \"Relax. Cheerful\n reception these days, eh?\"\n\n\n \"You don't mind?\" said the creature.\n\n\n \"Not at all.\" Pete tossed his briefcase on the floor. At a\n distance the huge beast had looked like a nightmare combination\n of large alligator and small tyrannosaurus. Now, at\n close range Pete could see that the \"scales\" were actually tiny\n wrinkles of satiny green fur. He knew, of course, that the\n Grdznth were mammals—\"docile, peace-loving mammals,\"\n Tommy's PR-blasts had declared emphatically—but with one\n of them sitting about a foot away Pete had to fight down a\n wave of horror and revulsion.\n\n\n The creature was most incredibly ugly. Great yellow pouches\n hung down below flat reptilian eyes, and a double row of long\n curved teeth glittered sharply. In spite of himself Pete gripped\n the seat as the Grdznth breathed at him wetly through damp\n nostrils.\n\n\n \"Misgauged?\" said Pete.\n\n\n The Grdznth nodded sadly. \"It's horrible of me, but I just\n can't help it. I\nalways\nmisgauge. Last time it was the chancel\n of St. John's Cathedral. I nearly stampeded morning prayer—\"\n He paused to catch his breath. \"What an effort. The energy\n barrier, you know. Frightfully hard to make the jump.\" He\n broke off sharply, staring out the window. \"Dear me! Are we\n going\neast\n?\"\n\n\n \"I'm afraid so, friend.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, dear. I wanted\nFlorida\n.\"\n\n\n \"Well, you seem to have drifted through into the wrong\n airplane,\" said Pete. \"Why Florida?\"\n\n\n The Grdznth looked at him reproachfully. \"The Wives, of\n course. The climate is so much better, and they mustn't be\n disturbed, you know.\"\n\n\n \"Of course,\" said Pete. \"In their condition. I'd forgotten.\"\n\n\n \"And I'm told that things have been somewhat unpleasant\n in the East just now,\" said the Grdznth.\n\n\n Pete thought of Tommy, red-faced and frantic, beating off\n hordes of indignant citizens. \"So I hear,\" he said. \"How many\n more of you are coming through?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, not many, not many at all. Only the Wives—half a\n million or so—and their spouses, of course.\" The creature\n clicked his talons nervously. \"We haven't much more time, you\n know. Only a few more weeks, a few months at the most. If\n we couldn't have stopped over here, I just don't know\nwhat\nwe'd have done.\"\n\n\n \"Think nothing of it,\" said Pete indulgently. \"It's been great\n having you.\"\n\n\n The passengers within earshot stiffened, glaring at Pete.\n The fat lady was whispering indignantly to her seat companion.\n Junior had half emerged from his mother's collar; he was busy\n sticking out his tongue at the Grdznth.\n\n\n The creature shifted uneasily. \"Really, I think—perhaps\n Florida would be better.\"\n\n\n \"Going to try it again right now? Don't rush off,\" said Pete.\n\n\n \"Oh, I don't mean to rush. It's been lovely, but—\" Already\n the Grdznth was beginning to fade out.\n\n\n \"Try four miles down and a thousand miles southeast,\" said\n Pete.\n\n\n The creature gave him a toothy smile, nodded once, and\n grew more indistinct. In another five seconds the seat was quite\n empty. Pete leaned back, grinning to himself as the angry\n rumble rose around him like a wave. He was a Public Relations\n man to the core—but right now he was off duty. He\n chuckled to himself, and the passengers avoided him like the\n plague all the way to New Philly.\n\n\n But as he walked down the gangway to hail a cab, he wasn't\n smiling so much. He was wondering just how high Tommy was\n hanging him, this time.\nThe lobby of the Public Relations Bureau was swarming like\n an upturned anthill when Pete disembarked from the taxi. He\n could almost smell the desperate tension of the place. He\n fought his way past scurrying clerks and preoccupied poll-takers\n toward the executive elevators in the rear.\n\n\n On the newly finished seventeenth floor, he found Tommy\n Heinz pacing the corridor like an expectant young father.\n Tommy had lost weight since Pete had last seen him. His\n ruddy face was paler, his hair thin and ragged as though\n chunks had been torn out from time to time. He saw Pete\n step off the elevator, and ran forward with open arms. \"I\n thought you'd never get here!\" he groaned. \"When you didn't\n call, I was afraid you'd let me down.\"\n\n\n \"Me?\" said Pete. \"I'd never let down a pal.\"\n\n\n The sarcasm didn't dent Tommy. He led Pete through the\n ante-room into the plush director's office, bouncing about excitedly,\n his words tumbling out like a waterfall. He looked as\n though one gentle shove might send him yodeling down Market\n Street in his underdrawers. \"Hold it,\" said Pete. \"Relax,\n I'm not going to leave for a while yet. Your girl screamed\n something about a senator as we came in. Did you hear her?\"\n\n\n Tommy gave a violent start. \"Senator! Oh, dear.\" He flipped\n a desk switch. \"What senator is that?\"\n\n\n \"Senator Stokes,\" the girl said wearily. \"He had an appointment.\n He's ready to have you fired.\"\n\n\n \"All I need now is a senator,\" Tommy said. \"What does he\n want?\"\n\n\n \"Guess,\" said the girl.\n\n\n \"Oh. That's what I was afraid of. Can you keep him there?\"\n\n\n \"Don't worry about that,\" said the girl. \"He's growing roots.\n They swept around him last night, and dusted him off this\n morning. His appointment was for\nyesterday\n, remember?\"\n\n\n \"Remember! Of course I remember. Senator Stokes—something\n about a riot in Boston.\" He started to flip the switch,\n then added, \"See if you can get Charlie down here with his\n giz.\"\n\n\n He turned back to Pete with a frantic light in his eye. \"Good\n old Pete. Just in time. Just. Eleventh-hour reprieve. Have a\n drink, have a cigar—do you want my job? It's yours. Just\n speak up.\"\n\n\n \"I fail to see,\" said Pete, \"just why you had to drag me\n all the way from L.A. to have a cigar. I've got work to do.\"\n\n\n \"Selling movies, right?\" said Tommy.\n\n\n \"Check.\"\n\n\n \"To people who don't want to buy them, right?\"\n\n\n \"In a manner of speaking,\" said Pete testily.\n\n\n \"Exactly,\" said Tommy. \"Considering some of the movies\n you've been selling, you should be able to sell anything to\n anybody, any time, at any price.\"\n\n\n \"Please. Movies are getting Better by the Day.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, I know. And the Grdznth are getting worse by the\n hour. They're coming through in battalions—a thousand a day!\n The more Grdznth come through, the more they act as though\n they own the place. Not nasty or anything—it's that infernal\n politeness that people hate most, I think. Can't get them mad,\n can't get them into a fight, but they do anything they please,\n and go anywhere they please, and if the people don't like it,\n the Grdznth just go right ahead anyway.\"\n\n\n Pete pulled at his lip. \"Any violence?\"\n\n\n Tommy gave him a long look. \"So far we've kept it out of\n the papers, but there have been some incidents. Didn't hurt\n the Grdznth a bit—they have personal protective force fields\n around them, a little point they didn't bother to tell us about.\n Anybody who tries anything fancy gets thrown like a bolt of\n lightning hit him. Rumors are getting wild—people saying\n they can't be killed, that they're just moving in to stay.\"\n\n\n Pete nodded slowly. \"Are they?\"\n\n\n \"I wish I knew. I mean, for sure. The psych-docs say no.\n The Grdznth agreed to leave at a specified time, and something\n in their cultural background makes them stick strictly to their\n agreements. But that's just what the psych-docs think, and\n they've been known to be wrong.\"\n\n\n \"And the appointed time?\"\n\n\n Tommy spread his hands helplessly. \"If we knew, you'd\n still be in L.A. Roughly six months and four days, plus or\n minus a month for the time differential. That's strictly tentative,\n according to the math boys. It's a parallel universe, one\n of several thousand already explored, according to the Grdznth\n scientists working with Charlie Karns. Most of the parallels\n are analogous, and we happen to be analogous to the Grdznth,\n a point we've omitted from our PR-blasts. They have an eight-planet\n system around a hot sun, and it's going to get lots hotter\n any day now.\"\n\n\n Pete's eyes widened. \"Nova?\"\n\n\n \"Apparently. Nobody knows how they predicted it, but they\n did. Spotted it coming several years ago, so they've been romping\n through parallel after parallel trying to find one they can\n migrate to. They found one, sort of a desperation choice. It's\n cold and arid and full of impassable mountain chains. With an\n uphill fight they can make it support a fraction of their population.\"\n\n\n Tommy shook his head helplessly. \"They picked a very sensible\n system for getting a good strong Grdznth population on\n the new parallel as fast as possible. The males were picked for\n brains, education, ability and adaptability; the females were\n chosen largely according to how pregnant they were.\"\n\n\n Pete grinned. \"Grdznth in utero. There's something poetic\n about it.\"\n\n\n \"Just one hitch,\" said Tommy. \"The girls can't gestate in\n that climate, at least not until they've been there long enough\n to get their glands adjusted. Seems we have just the right climate\n here for gestating Grdznth, even better than at home.\n So they came begging for permission to stop here, on the way\n through, to rest and parturiate.\"\n\n\n \"So Earth becomes a glorified incubator.\" Pete got to his\n feet thoughtfully. \"This is all very touching,\" he said, \"but\n it just doesn't wash. If the Grdznth are so unpopular with the\n masses, why did we let them in here in the first place?\" He\n looked narrowly at Tommy. \"To be very blunt, what's the\n parking fee?\"\n\n\n \"Plenty,\" said Tommy heavily. \"That's the trouble, you\n see. The fee is so high, Earth just can't afford to lose it. Charlie\n Karns'll tell you why.\"\nCharlie Karns from Math Section was an intense skeleton of\n a man with a long jaw and a long white coat drooping over his\n shoulders like a shroud. In his arms he clutched a small black\n box.\n\n\n \"It's the parallel universe business, of course,\" he said to\n Pete, with Tommy beaming over his shoulder. \"The Grdznth\n can cross through. They've been able to do it for a long time.\n According to our figuring, this must involve complete control\n of mass, space and dimension, all three. And time comes into\n one of the three—we aren't sure which.\"\n\n\n The mathematician set the black box on the desk top and\n released the lid. Like a jack-in-the-box, two small white plastic\n spheres popped out and began chasing each other about in\n the air six inches above the box. Presently a third sphere rose\n up from the box and joined the fun.\n\n\n Pete watched it with his jaw sagging until his head began to\n spin. \"No wires?\"\n\n\n \"\nStrictly\nno wires,\" said Charlie glumly. \"No nothing.\" He\n closed the box with a click. \"This is one of their children's toys,\n and theoretically, it can't work. Among other things, it takes\n null-gravity to operate.\"\n\n\n Pete sat down, rubbing his chin. \"Yes,\" he said. \"I'm beginning\n to see. They're teaching you this?\"\n\n\n Tommy said, \"They're trying to. He's been working for\n weeks with their top mathematicians, him and a dozen others.\n How many computers have you burned out, Charlie?\"\n\n\n \"Four. There's a differential factor, and we can't spot it.\n They have the equations, all right. It's a matter of translating\n them into constants that make sense. But we haven't cracked\n the differential.\"\n\n\n \"And if you do, then what?\"\n\n\n Charlie took a deep breath. \"We'll have inter-dimensional\n control, a practical, utilizable transmatter. We'll have null-gravity,\n which means the greatest advance in power utilization\n since fire was discovered. It might give us the opening to a\n concept of time travel that makes some kind of sense. And\n power! If there's an energy differential of any magnitude—\"\n He shook his head sadly.\n\n\n \"We'll also know the time-differential,\" said Tommy hopefully,\n \"and how long the Grdznth gestation period will be.\"\n\n\n \"It's a fair exchange,\" said Charlie. \"We keep them until the\n girls have their babies. They teach us the ABC's of space,\n mass and dimension.\"\n\n\n Pete nodded. \"That is, if you can make the people put up\n with them for another six months or so.\"\n\n\n Tommy sighed. \"In a word—yes. So far we've gotten nowhere\n at a thousand miles an hour.\"\n\"I can't do it!\" the cosmetician wailed, hurling himself\n down on a chair and burying his face in his hands. \"I've failed.\n Failed!\"\n\n\n The Grdznth sitting on the stool looked regretfully from the\n cosmetician to the Public Relations men. \"I say—I\nam\nsorry....\" His coarse voice trailed off as he peeled a long\n strip of cake makeup off his satiny green face.\n\n\n Pete Greenwood stared at the cosmetician sobbing in the\n chair. \"What's eating\nhim\n?\"\n\n\n \"Professional pride,\" said Tommy. \"He can take twenty\n years off the face of any woman in Hollywood. But he's not\n getting to first base with Gorgeous over there. This is only one\n thing we've tried,\" he added as they moved on down the corridor.\n \"You should see the field reports. We've tried selling the\n advances Earth will have, the wealth, the power. No dice. The\n man on the street reads our PR-blasts, and then looks up to see\n one of the nasty things staring over his shoulder at the newspaper.\"\n\n\n \"So you can't make them beautiful,\" said Pete. \"Can't you\n make them cute?\"\n\n\n \"With those teeth? Those eyes? Ugh.\"\n\n\n \"How about the 'jolly company' approach?\"\n\n\n \"Tried it. There's nothing jolly about them. They pop out\n of nowhere, anywhere. In church, in bedrooms, in rush-hour\n traffic through Lincoln Tunnel—look!\"\n\n\n Pete peered out the window at the traffic jam below. Cars\n were snarled up for blocks on either side of the intersection.\n A squad of traffic cops were converging angrily on the center\n of the mess, where a stream of green reptilian figures seemed\n to be popping out of the street and lumbering through the\n jammed autos like General Sherman tanks.\n\n\n \"Ulcers,\" said Tommy. \"City traffic isn't enough of a mess\n as it is. And they don't\ndo\nanything about it. They apologize\n profusely, but they keep coming through.\" The two started\n on for the office. \"Things are getting to the breaking point.\n The people are wearing thin from sheer annoyance—to say\n nothing of the nightmares the kids are having, and the trouble\n with women fainting.\"\n\n\n The signal light on Tommy's desk was flashing scarlet. He\n dropped into a chair with a sigh and flipped a switch. \"Okay,\n what is it now?\"\n\n\n \"Just another senator,\" said a furious male voice. \"Mr.\n Heinz, my arthritis is beginning to win this fight. Are you\n going to see me now, or aren't you?\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, come right in!\" Tommy turned white. \"Senator\n Stokes,\" he muttered. \"I'd completely forgotten—\"\n\n\n The senator didn't seem to like being forgotten. He walked\n into the office, looked disdainfully at the PR-men, and sank to\n the edge of a chair, leaning on his umbrella.\n\n\n \"You have just lost your job,\" he said to Tommy, with an\n icy edge to his voice. \"You may not have heard about it yet,\n but you can take my word for it. I personally will be delighted\n to make the necessary arrangements, but I doubt if I'll need to.\n There are at least a hundred senators in Washington who are\n ready to press for your dismissal, Mr. Heinz—and there's\n been some off-the-record talk about a lynching. Nothing official,\n of course.\"\n\n\n \"Senator—\"\n\n\n \"Senator be hanged! We want somebody in this office who\n can manage to\ndo\nsomething.\"\n\n\n \"Do something! You think I'm a magician? I can just make\n them vanish? What do you want me to do?\"\n\n\n The senator raised his eyebrows. \"You needn't shout, Mr.\n Heinz. I'm not the least interested in\nwhat\nyou do. My interest\n is focused completely on a collection of five thousand letters,\n telegrams, and visiphone calls I've received in the past three\n days alone. My constituents, Mr. Heinz, are making themselves\n clear. If the Grdznth do not go, I go.\"\n\n\n \"That would never do, of course,\" murmured Pete.\n\n\n The senator gave Pete a cold, clinical look. \"Who is this\n person?\" he asked Tommy.\n\n\n \"An assistant on the job,\" Tommy said quickly. \"A very\n excellent PR-man.\"\n\n\n The senator sniffed audibly. \"Full of ideas, no doubt.\"\n\n\n \"Brimming,\" said Pete. \"Enough ideas to get your constituents\n off your neck for a while, at least.\"\n\n\n \"Indeed.\"\n\n\n \"Indeed,\" said Pete. \"Tommy, how fast can you get a PR-blast\n to penetrate? How much medium do you control?\"\n\n\n \"Plenty,\" Tommy gulped.\n\n\n \"And how fast can you sample response and analyze it?\"\n\n\n \"We can have prelims six hours after the PR-blast. Pete,\n if you have an idea, tell us!\"\n\n\n Pete stood up, facing the senator. \"Everything else has been\n tried, but it seems to me one important factor has been missed.\n One that will take your constituents by the ears.\" He looked\n at Tommy pityingly. \"You've tried to make them lovable, but\n they aren't lovable. They aren't even passably attractive.\n There's one thing they\nare\nthough, at least half of them.\"\n\n\n Tommy's jaw sagged. \"Pregnant,\" he said.\n\n\n \"Now see here,\" said the senator. \"If you're trying to make\n a fool out of me to my face—\"\n\n\n \"Sit down and shut up,\" said Pete. \"If there's one thing the\n man in the street reveres, my friend, it's motherhood. We've\n got several hundred thousand pregnant Grdznth just waiting\n for all the little Grdznth to arrive, and nobody's given them a\n side glance.\" He turned to Tommy. \"Get some copywriters\n down here. Get a Grdznth obstetrician or two. We're going to\n put together a PR-blast that will twang the people's heart-strings\n like a billion harps.\"\n\n\n The color was back in Tommy's cheeks, and the senator was\n forgotten as a dozen intercom switches began snapping. \"We'll\n need TV hookups, and plenty of newscast space,\" he said\n eagerly. \"Maybe a few photographs—do you suppose maybe\nbaby\nGrdznth are lovable?\"\n\n\n \"They probably look like salamanders,\" said Pete. \"But tell\n the people anything you want. If we're going to get across the\n sanctity of Grdznth motherhood, my friend, anything goes.\"\n\n\n \"It's genius,\" chortled Tommy. \"Sheer genius.\"\n\n\n \"If it sells,\" the senator added, dubiously.\n\n\n \"It'll sell,\" Pete said. \"The question is: for how long?\"\nThe planning revealed the mark of genius. Nothing\n sudden, harsh, or crude—but slowly, in a radio comment here\n or a newspaper story there, the emphasis began to shift from\n Grdznth in general to Grdznth as mothers. A Rutgers professor\n found his TV discussion on \"Motherhood as an Experience\"\n suddenly shifted from 6:30 Monday evening to 10:30 Saturday\n night. Copy rolled by the ream from Tommy's office, refined\n copy, hypersensitively edited copy, finding its way into the\n light of day through devious channels.\n\n\n Three days later a Grdznth miscarriage threatened, and\n was averted. It was only a page 4 item, but it was a beginning.\n\n\n Determined movements to expel the Grdznth faltered, trembled\n with indecision. The Grdznth were ugly, they frightened\n little children, they\nwere\na trifle overbearing in their insufferable\n stubborn politeness—but in a civilized world you just\n couldn't turn expectant mothers out in the rain.\n\n\n Not even expectant Grdznth mothers.\n\n\n By the second week the blast was going at full tilt.\n\n\n In the Public Relations Bureau building, machines worked\n on into the night. As questionnaires came back, spot candid\n films and street-corner interview tapes ran through the projectors\n on a twenty-four-hour schedule. Tommy Heinz grew\n thinner and thinner, while Pete nursed sharp post-prandial\n stomach pains.\n\n\n \"Why don't people\nrespond\n?\" Tommy asked plaintively on\n the morning the third week started. \"Haven't they got any\n feelings? The blast is washing over them like a wave and there\n they sit!\" He punched the private wire to Analysis for the\n fourth time that morning. He got a man with a hag-ridden look\n in his eye. \"How soon?\"\n\n\n \"You want yesterday's rushes?\"\n\n\n \"What do you think I want? Any sign of a lag?\"\n\n\n \"Not a hint. Last night's panel drew like a magnet. The\n D-Date tag you suggested has them by the nose.\"\n\n\n \"How about the President's talk?\"\n\n\n The man from Analysis grinned. \"He should be campaigning.\"\n\n\n Tommy mopped his forehead with his shirtsleeve. \"Okay.\n Now listen: we need a special run on all response data we have\n for tolerance levels. Got that? How soon can we have it?\"\n\n\n Analysis shook his head. \"We could only make a guess with\n the data so far.\"\n\n\n \"Fine,\" said Tommy. \"Make a guess.\"\n\n\n \"Give us three hours,\" said Analysis.\n\n\n \"You've got thirty minutes. Get going.\"\n\n\n Turning back to Pete, Tommy rubbed his hands eagerly.\n \"It's starting to sell, boy. I don't know how strong or how\n good, but it's starting to sell! With the tolerance levels to tell\n us how long we can expect this program to quiet things down,\n we can give Charlie a deadline to crack his differential factor,\n or it's the ax for Charlie.\" He chuckled to himself, and paced\n the room in an overflow of nervous energy. \"I can see it now.\n Open shafts instead of elevators. A quick hop to Honolulu for\n an afternoon on the beach, and back in time for supper. A\n hundred miles to the gallon for the Sunday driver. When\n people begin\nseeing\nwhat the Grdznth are giving us, they'll\n welcome them with open arms.\"\n\n\n \"Hmmm,\" said Pete.\n\n\n \"Well, why won't they? The people just didn't trust us, that\n was all. What does the man in the street know about transmatters?\n Nothing. But give him one, and then try to take it\n away.\"\n\n\n \"Sure, sure,\" said Pete. \"It sounds great. Just a little bit\ntoo\ngreat.\"\n\n\n Tommy blinked at him. \"Too great? Are you crazy?\"\n\n\n \"Not crazy. Just getting nervous.\" Pete jammed his hands\n into his pockets. \"Do you realize where\nwe're\nstanding in this\n thing? We're out on a limb—way out. We're fighting for time—time\n for Charlie and his gang to crack the puzzle, time for\n the Grdznth girls to gestate. But what are we hearing from\n Charlie?\"\n\n\n \"Pete, Charlie can't just—\"\n\n\n \"That's right,\" said Pete. \"\nNothing\nis what we're hearing\n from Charlie. We've got no transmatter, no null-G, no power,\n nothing except a whole lot of Grdznth and more coming\n through just as fast as they can. I'm beginning to wonder what\n the Grdznth\nare\ngiving us.\"\n\n\n \"Well, they can't gestate forever.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe not, but I still have a burning desire to talk to\n Charlie. Something tells me they're going to be gestating a\n little too long.\"\n\n\n They put through the call, but Charlie wasn't answering.\n \"Sorry,\" the operator said. \"Nobody's gotten through there for\n three days.\"\n\n\n \"Three days?\" cried Tommy. \"What's wrong? Is he dead?\"\n\n\n \"Couldn't be. They burned out two more machines yesterday,\"\n said the operator. \"Killed the switchboard for twenty\n minutes.\"\n\n\n \"Get him on the wire,\" Tommy said. \"That's orders.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir. But first they want you in Analysis.\"\n\n\n Analysis was a shambles. Paper and tape piled knee-deep\n on the floor. The machines clattered wildly, coughing out\n reams of paper to be gulped up by other machines. In a corner\n office they found the Analysis man, pale but jubilant.\n\n\n \"The Program,\" Tommy said. \"How's it going?\"\n\n\n \"You can count on the people staying happy for at least\n another five months.\" Analysis hesitated an instant. \"If they\n see some baby Grdznth at the end of it all.\"\n\n\n There was dead silence in the room. \"Baby Grdznth,\"\n Tommy said finally.\n\n\n \"That's what I said. That's what the people are buying.\n That's what they'd better get.\"\n\n\n Tommy swallowed hard. \"And if it happens to be six\n months?\"\n\n\n Analysis drew a finger across his throat.\n\n\n Tommy and Pete looked at each other, and Tommy's hands\n were shaking. \"I think,\" he said, \"we'd better find Charlie\n Karns right now.\"\nMath Section was like a tomb. The machines were silent.\n In the office at the end of the room they found an unshaven\n Charlie gulping a cup of coffee with a very smug-looking\n Grdznth. The coffee pot was floating gently about six feet\n above the desk. So were the Grdznth and Charlie.\n\n\n \"Charlie!\" Tommy howled. \"We've been trying to get you\n for hours! The operator—\"\n\n\n \"I know, I know.\" Charlie waved a hand disjointedly. \"I\n told her to go away. I told the rest of the crew to go away, too.\"\n\n\n \"Then you cracked the differential?\"\n\n\n Charlie tipped an imaginary hat toward the Grdznth. \"Spike\n cracked it,\" he said. \"Spike is a sort of Grdznth genius.\" He\n tossed the coffee cup over his shoulder and it ricochetted in\n graceful slow motion against the far wall. \"Now why don't\n you go away, too?\"\n\n\n Tommy turned purple. \"We've got five months,\" he said\n hoarsely. \"Do you hear me? If they aren't going to have their\n babies in five months, we're dead men.\"\n\n\n Charlie chuckled. \"Five months, he says. We figured the\n babies to come in about three months—right, Spike? Not that\n it'll make much difference to us.\" Charlie sank slowly down to\n the desk. He wasn't laughing any more. \"We're never going to\n see any Grdznth babies. It's going to be a little too cold for\n that. The energy factor,\" he mumbled. \"Nobody thought of\n that except in passing. Should have, though, long ago. Two\n completely independent universes, obviously two energy systems.\n Incompatible. We were dealing with mass, space and\n dimension—but the energy differential was the important one.\"\n\n\n \"What about the energy?\"\n\n\n \"We're loaded with it. Super-charged. Packed to the breaking\n point and way beyond.\" Charlie scribbled frantically on\n the desk pad. \"Look, it took energy for them to come through—immense\n quantities of energy. Every one that came through\n upset the balance, distorted our whole energy pattern. And\n they knew from the start that the differential was all on their\n side—a million of them unbalances four billion of us. All\n they needed to overload us completely was time for enough\n crossings.\"\n\n\n \"And we gave it to them.\" Pete sat down slowly, his face\n green. \"Like a rubber ball with a dent in the side. Push in one\n side, the other side pops out. And we're the other side.\n When?\"\n\n\n \"Any day now. Maybe any minute.\" Charlie spread his\n hands helplessly. \"Oh, it won't be bad at all. Spike here was\n telling me. Mean temperature in only 39 below zero, lots of\n good clean snow, thousands of nice jagged mountain peaks.\n A lovely place, really. Just a little too cold for Grdznth. They\n thought Earth was much nicer.\"\n\n\n \"For them,\" whispered Tommy.\n\n\n \"For them,\" Charlie said.\nTranscriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from \"Tiger by the Tail and Other Science\n Fiction Stories by Alan E. Nourse\" and was first published in\nGalaxy\nOctober 1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence\n that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed. Minor\n spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Why were the Grdznth so polite?", "question_unique_id": "24290_66ER3O5Z_1", "options": ["They don't want to upset anyone", "They were afraid of humans", "It is part of their culture", "They need time to pass without causing trouble"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Where are the Grdznth from?", "question_unique_id": "24290_66ER3O5Z_2", "options": ["A different ", "Florida", "A parallel universe", "Another planet"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do the Grdznth view humans?", "question_unique_id": "24290_66ER3O5Z_3", "options": ["Disregard", "Empathy", "Thankful", "Respect"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What did the PR men cause?", "question_unique_id": "24290_66ER3O5Z_4", "options": ["The end of the human race", "Empathy for the Grdznth", "A solution to senator Stokes' problem", "All answers are correct"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is the best theme for this story?", "question_unique_id": "24290_66ER3O5Z_5", "options": ["Aliens are dangerous", "Public Relations is manipulative", "Don't trust someone just because they're polite", "Ugly things are evil"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following best describes Pete?", "question_unique_id": "24290_66ER3O5Z_6", "options": ["Anxious", "Bold", "Tired", "Confident"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/2/4/2/9/24290//24290-h//24290-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "31736", "set_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Star Performer", "year": 1964, "author": "Shea, Robert", "topic": "Science fiction; PS; Short stories; Martians -- Fiction; Revenge -- Fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from the September 1960 issue of If. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\nStar Performer\nBy ROBERT J. SHEA\nIllustrated by DICK FRANCIS\nBlue Boy's rating was high and his fans were loyal to the\n death—anyone's death!\nGavir gingerly fitted the round opening in the bottom of the silvery\n globe over the top of his hairless blue skull. He pulled the globe\n down until he felt tiny filaments touching his scalp. The tips of the\n wires were cold.\n\n\n The moderator then said, \"\nDreaming Through the Universe\ntonight\n brings you the first native Martian to appear on the dreamwaves—Gavir\n of the Desert Men. With him is his guardian, Dr. Malcomb Rice, the\n noted anthropologist.\"\n\n\n Then the moderator questioned Malcomb, while Gavir nervously\n awaited the moment when his thoughts would be transmitted to millions\n of Earthmen. Malcomb told how he had been struck by Gavir's\n intelligence and missionary-taught ability to speak Earth's language,\n and had decided to bring Gavir to Earth.\n\n\n The moderator turned to Gavir. \"Are you anxious to get back to Mars?\"\nNo!\nGavir thought. Back behind the Preserve Barrier that killed you\n instantly if you stepped too close to it? Back to the constant fear of\n being seized by MDC guards for a labor pool, to wind up in the MDC\n mines?\n\n\n Mars was where Gavir's father had been pinned, bayonets through his\n hands and feet, to the wall of a shack just the other side of the\n Barrier, to die slowly, out of Gavir's reach. Father James told Gavir\n that the head of MDC himself had ordered the killing, because Gavir's\n father had tried to organize resistance to the Corporation. Mars was\n where the magic powers of the Earthmen and the helplessness of the\n Martian tribes would always protect the head of MDC from Gavir's\n vengeance.\n\n\n Back to that world of hopeless fear and hatred?\nI never want to go\n back to Mars! I want to stay here!\nBut that wasn't what he was supposed to think. Quickly he said, \"I\n will be happy to return to my people.\"\n\n\n A movement caught his eye. The producer, reclining on a divan in a far\n corner of the small studio, was making some kind of signal by beating\n his fist against his forehead.\n\n\n \"Well, enough of that!\" the moderator said briskly. \"How about singing\n one of your tribal songs for us?\"\n\n\n Gavir said, \"I will sing the\nSong of Going to Hunt\n.\" He heaved\n himself up from the divan, and, feet planted wide apart, threw back\n his head and began to howl.\n\n\n He was considered a poor singer in his tribe, and he was not surprised\n that Malcomb and the moderator winced. But Malcomb had told him that\n it wouldn't matter. The dreamees receiving the dreamcast would hear\n the song as it\nshould\nsound, as Gavir heard it in his mind.\n Everything that Gavir saw and heard and felt in his mind, the dreamees\n could see and hear and feel....\n\n\n\n\n I\n t was cold, bitter cold, on the plain. The hunter stood at the edge\n of the camp as the shriveled Martian sun struck the tops of the Shakam\n hills. The hunter hefted the long, balanced narvoon, the throwing\n knife, in his hand. He had faith in the knife, and in his skill with\n it.\n\n\n The hunter filled his lungs, the cold air reaching deep into his\n chest. He shouted out his throat-bursting hunting cry. He began to run\n across the plain.\n\n\n Crouching behind crumbling red rocks, racing over flat expanses of\n orange sand, the hunter sought traces of the seegee, the great slow\n desert beast whose body provided his tribe with all the essentials of\n existence. At last he saw tracks. He mounted a dune. Out on the plain\n before him a great brown seegee lumbered patiently, unaware of its\n danger.\n\n\n The hunter was about to strike out after it, when a dark form leaped\n at him.\n\n\n The hunter saw it out of the corner of his eye at the last moment. His\n startled sidestep saved him from the neck-breaking snap of the great\n jaws.\n\n\n The drock's long body was armored with black scales. Curving fangs\n protruded from its upper jaw. Its hand-like forepaws ended in hooked\n claws, to grasp and tear its prey. It was larger, stronger, faster\n than the hunter. The thin Martian air carried weirdly high-pitched\n cries which proclaimed its craving to sink its fangs into the hunter's\n body. The drock's huge hind legs coiled back on their triple joints,\n and it sprang.\n\n\n The hunter thrust the gleaming knife out before him, so that the dark\n body would land on its gleaming blade. The drock twisted in mid-air\n and landed to one side of the hunter.\n\n\n Now, before it could gather itself for another spring, there was time\n for one cast of the blade. It had to be done at once. It had to be\n perfect. If it failed, the knife would be lost and the drock would\n have its kill. The hunter grasped the weapon by the blade, drew his\n arm back, and snapped it forward.\n\n\n The blade struck deep into the throat of the drock.\n\n\n The drock screamed eerily and jumped clumsily. The hunter threw\n himself at the great, dark body and retrieved the knife. He struck\n with it again and again into the gray twitching belly. Colorless blood\n ran out over the hard, tightly-stretched skin.\n\n\n The drock fell, gave a last convulsion, and lay still. The hunter\n plunged the blade into the red sand to clean it. He threw back his\n head and bellowed his hunting cry. There was great glory in killing\n the drock, for it showed that the Desert Man and not the drock, was\n lord of the red waste....\nGavir sat down on the divan, exhausted, his song finished. He didn't\n hear the moderator winding up the dreamcast. Then the producer of the\n program was upon him.\n\n\n He began shouting even before Gavir removed his headset. \"What kind\n of a fool are you? Before you started that song, you dreamed things\n about the Martian Development Corporation that were libelous! I got\n the whole thing—the Barrier, the guards, the labor pools and mines,\n the father crucified. It was awful! MDC is one of our biggest\n sponsors.\"\n\n\n Malcomb said, \"You can't expect an untrained young Martian to control\n his very thoughts. And may I point out that your tone is hostile?\"\n\n\n At this a sudden change came over the producer. The standard Earth\n expression—invincible benignity—took control of his face. \"I\n apologize for having spoken sharply, but dreamcasting is a\n nerve-wracking business. If it weren't for Ethical Conditioning, I\n don't know how I'd control my aggressive impulses. The Suppression of\n Aggression is the Foundation of Civilization, eh?\"\n\n\n Malcomb smiled. \"Ethical Conditioning Keeps Society from Fissioning.\"\n He shook hands with the producer.\n\n\n \"Come around tomorrow at 1300 and collect your fee,\" said the\n producer. \"Good night, gentlemen.\"\n\n\n As they left the Global Dreamcasting System building, Gavir said to\n Malcomb, \"Can we go to a bookstore tonight?\"\n\n\n \"Tomorrow. I'm taking you to your hotel and then I'm going back to my\n apartment. We both need sleep. And don't forget, you've been warned\n not to go prowling around the city by yourself....\"\n\n\n As soon as Gavir was sure that Malcomb was out of the hotel and well\n on his way home, he left his room and went out into the city.\n\n\n In a pitifully few days he would be back in the Preserve, back with\n the fear of MDC, with hunger and the hopeless desire to find and kill\n the man who had ordered his father's death.\n\n\n Now he had an opportunity to learn more about the universe of the\n Earthmen. Despite Malcomb's orders, he was going to find a seller of\n books.\n\n\n During a reading class at the mission school, Father James had said,\n \"In books there is power. All that you call magic in our Earth\n civilization is explained in books.\" Gavir wanted to learn. It was his\n only hope to find an alternative to the short, fear-ridden,\n impoverished life he foresaw for himself.\n\n\n A river of force carried him, along with thousands of\n Earthmen—godlike beings in their perfect health and their impregnable\n benignity—through the streets of the city. Platforms of force raised\n and lowered him through the city's multiple levels....\n\n\n And, as has always happened to outlanders in cities, he became lost.\nHe was in a quarter where furtive red and violet lights danced in the\n shadows of hunched buildings. A half-dozen Earthmen approached him,\n stopped and stared. Gavir stared back.\n\n\n The Earthmen wore black garments and furs and metal ornaments. The\n biggest of them wore a black suit, a long black cape, and a\n broad-brimmed black hat. He carried a coiled whip in one hand. The\n Earthmen turned to one another.\n\n\n \"A Martian.\"\n\n\n \"Let's give pain and death to the Martian! It will be a new\n experience—one to savor.\"\n\n\n \"Take pain, Martian!\"\n\n\n The Earthman with the black hat raised his arm, and the long heavy\n lash fell on Gavir. He felt a savage sting in the arm he had thrown up\n to protect his eyes.\n\n\n Gavir leaped at the Earthmen. He clubbed the man with the whip across\n the face. As the others rushed in, Gavir flailed about him with long\n arms and heavy fists.\n\n\n He began to enjoy it. It was rare that a Martian had an opportunity to\n knock Earthmen down. The mood of the\nSong of Going to Hunt\ncame over\n him. He sprang free of his attackers and drew his glittering narvoon.\n\n\n The man with the whip yelled. They looked at his knife, and then all\n at once turned and ran. Gavir drew back his arm and threw the knife\n with a practiced catapult-snap of shoulder, elbow, and wrist. To his\n surprise, the blade clattered to the street far short of his\n retreating enemies. Then he remembered: you couldn't throw far in the\n gravity of Earth.\n\n\n The Earthmen disappeared into a lift-force field. Gavir decided not to\n pursue them. He walked forward and picked up his narvoon, and saw that\n the street on which it lay was solid black pavement, not a\n force-field. He must be in the lowest level of the city. He didn't\n know his way around; he might meet more enemies. He forgot about the\n books he'd wanted, and began to search for his hotel.\nWhen he got back to his room, he went immediately to bed. He slept\n late.\n\n\n Malcomb woke him at 1100. Gavir told Malcomb about the\n strangely-dressed men who had tried to kill him.\n\n\n \"I told you not to wander around alone.\"\n\n\n \"But you did not tell me that Earthmen might try to kill me. You have\n told me that Earthmen are good and peace-loving, that there have been\n no acts of violence on Earth for many decades. You have told me that\n only the MDC men are exceptions, because they are living off Earth,\n and this somehow makes them different.\"\n\n\n \"Well, those people you ran into are another exception.\"\n\n\n \"Why?\"\n\n\n \"You know about the Regeneration and Rejuvenation treatment we have\n here on Earth. A variation of it was given you to acclimate you to\n Earth's gravity and atmosphere. Well, since the R&R treatment was\n developed, we Earthmen have a life-expectancy of about one hundred\n fifty years. Those people who attacked you were Century-Plus. They are\n over a hundred years old, but as healthy, physically, as ever.\"\n\n\n \"What is wrong with them?\"\n\n\n \"They seem to have outgrown their Ethical Conditioning. They live\n wildly. Violently. It's a problem without precedent, and we don't know\n what to do with them. The fact is, Senile Delinquency is our number\n one problem.\"\n\n\n \"Why not punish them?\" said Gavir.\n\n\n \"They're too powerful. They are often people who've pursued successful\n careers and acquired a good deal of property and position. And there\n are getting to be more of them all the time. But come on. You and I\n have to go over to Global Dreamcasting and collect our fee.\"\nThe impeccably affable producer of\nDreaming Through the Universe\ngave Malcomb a check and then asked them to follow him.\n\n\n \"Mr. Davery wants to see you. Mr.\nHoppy\nDavery, executive\n vice-president in charge of production. Scion of one of Earth's oldest\n communications media families!\"\n\n\n They went with the producer to the upper reaches of the Global\n Dreamcasting building. There they were ushered into a huge office.\n\n\n They found Mr. Hoppy Davery lounging on a divan the size of a\n space-port. He was youthful in appearance, as were all Earthmen, but a\n soft plumpness and a receding hairline made him look slightly older\n than average.\n\n\n He pointed a rigid finger at Malcomb and Gavir. \"I want you two to\n hear a condensed recording of statements taken from calls we received\n last night.\"\n\n\n Gavir stiffened. They\nhad\ngotten into trouble because of his\n thoughts about MDC.\n\n\n A voice boomed out of the ceiling.\n\n\n \"That Martian boy has power. That song was a fist in the jaw. More!\"\n\n\n A woman's voice followed:\n\n\n \"If you let that boy go back to Mars I'll never dream a Global program\n again.\"\n\n\n More voices:\n\n\n \"Enormous!\"\n\n\n \"Potent!\"\n\n\n \"That hunting song drove me mad. I\nlike\nbeing mad!\"\n\n\n \"Keep him on Earth.\"\n\n\n Hoppy Davery pressed a button in the control panel on his divan, and\n the voices fell silent.\n\n\n \"Those callers that admitted their age were all Century-Plus. The boy\n appeals to the Century-Plus mentality. I want to try him again. This\n time on a really big dream-show, not just an educational 'cast. Got a\n spot on next week's Farfel Flisket Show. If he gets the right\n response, we talk about a contract. Okay?\"\n\n\n Malcomb said, \"His visa expires—\"\n\n\n \"We'll take care of his visa.\"\n\n\n Gavir trembled with joy. Hoppy Davery pressed another button and a\n secretary entered with papers. She was followed by another woman.\n\n\n The second woman was dark-haired and slender. She wore leather boots\n and tight brown breeches. She was bare from the waist up and her\n breasts were young and full. A jewelled clip fastened a scarlet cape\n at her neck. Her lips were a disconcertingly vivid red, apparently an\n artificial color. She kissed Hoppy Davery on the forehead, leaving red\n blotches on his pink dome. He wiped his forehead and looked at his\n hand.\n\n\n \"Do you have to wear that barbaric face-paint?\" Hoppy turned sad eyes\n on Gavir and Malcomb. \"Gentlemen, my mother, Sylvie Davery.\"\n\n\n A Senile Delinquent! thought Gavir. She looked like Davery's younger\n sister. Malcomb stared at her apprehensively, and Gavir wondered if\n she were somehow going to attack them.\n\n\n She looked at Gavir. \"Mmm. What a body, what gorgeous blue skin. How\n tall are you, Blue Boy?\"\n\n\n \"He's approximately seven feet tall, Sylvie,\" said Hoppy, \"and what do\n you want here, anyway?\"\n\n\n \"Just came up to see Blue Boy. One of the crowd dreamed him last\n night. Positively manic about him. I found out he'd be with you.\"\n\n\n \"See?\" said Hoppy to Gavir. \"The Century-Plus mentality. You've got\n something they go for. Undoubtedly because you're—forgive me—such a\n complete barbarian. That's what they're all trying to be.\"\n\n\n \"Spare me another lecture on Senile Delinquency, Our Number One\n Problem.\" She walked to the door and Gavir watched her all the way.\n She turned with a swirl of scarlet and a dramatic display of healthy\n young flesh. \"See you again, Blue Boy.\"\n\n\n After Sylvie left, Hoppy Davery said, \"That might be a good\n professional name—Blue Boy. Gavir doesn't\nmean\nanything. Now what\n kind of a song could you do for the Farfel Flisket show?\"\n\n\n Gavir thought. \"Perhaps you would like the\nSong of Creation\n.\"\n\n\n \"It's part of a fertility rite,\" Malcomb explained.\n\n\n \"Great! Give the Senile Delinquents another workout. It's not quite\n ethical, but its good for us. But for heaven's sake, Blue Boy, keep\n your mind off MDC!\"\nThe following week, Gavir sang the\nSong of Creation\non the Farfel\n Flisket show, and transmitted the images which it brought up in his\n mind to his audience. A jubilant Hoppy Davery called him at his hotel\n next morning.\n\n\n \"Best response I've ever seen! The Century-Plussers have been rioting\n and throwing mass orgies ever since you sang. But they take time out\n to call us up and beg for more. I've got a sponsor and a two-year\n contract lined up for you.\"\n\n\n The sponsor was pacing back and forth in Hoppy Davery's office when\n Malcomb and Gavir arrived. Hoppy introduced him proudly. \"Mr. Jarvis\n Spurling, president of the Martian Development Corporation.\"\n\n\n Gavir's hand leaped at the narvoon under his doublet.\n\n\n Then he stopped himself. He turned the gesture into the proffer of a\n handshake. \"How do you do?\" he said quietly. In his mind he\n congratulated himself. He had learned emotional control from the\n Earthmen. Here was the man who had ordered his father crucified! Yet\n he had managed to hide his instant desire to strike, to kill, to carry\n out the oath of the blood feud then and there.\n\n\n Jarvis Spurling ignored Gavir's hand and stared coldly at him. There\n was not a trace of the usual Earthman's kindliness in his square,\n battered face. \"I'm told you got talent. Okay, but a Bluie is a Bluie.\n I'll pay you because a Bluie on Dreamvision is good publicity for MDC\n products. But one slip like on your first 'cast and you go back to the\n Preserve.\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Spurling!\" said Malcomb. \"Your tone is hostile!\"\n\n\n \"Damn right. That Ethical Conditioning slop doesn't work on me. I've\n lived too long on the frontier. And I know Bluies.\"\nIwill sign the contract,\" said Gavir.\n\n\n As he drew his signature pictograph on the contract, Sylvie Davery\n sauntered in. She held a white tube between her painted lips. The end\n of the tube was glowing and giving off clouds of smoke. Hoppy Davery\n coughed and Sylvie winked at Gavir. Gavir straightened up, and she\n took a long look at his seven feet.\n\n\n \"All finished, Blue Boy? Come on, let's go have a drink at Lucifer\n Grotto.\"\n\n\n Caution told Gavir to refuse. But before he could speak Spurling\n snapped, \"Disgusting! An Earth woman and a Bluie! If you were on Mars,\n lady, we'd deport you so fast your tail would burn. And God help the\n Bluie!\"\n\n\n Sylvie blew a cloud of smoke at Spurling. \"You're not on Mars, Jack.\n You're back in civilization where we do what we damned well please.\"\n\n\n Spurling laughed. \"I've heard about you Century-Plussers. You're all\n sick.\"\n\n\n \"You can't claim any monopoly on mental health. Not with that\n concentration camp you run on Mars. Coming, Gavir?\"\n\n\n Gavir grinned at Spurling. \"The contract, I believe, does not cover my\n private life.\"\n\n\n Hoppy Davery said, \"Sylvie, I don't think this is wise.\"\n\n\n Sylvie uttered a short, sharp obscenity, linked arms with Gavir, and\n strolled out.\n\n\n \"You screwball Senile Delinquent,\" Spurling yelled after Sylvie, \"you\n oughtta be locked up!\"\nLucifer Grotto was in that same quarter in which Gavir had been\n attacked. Sylvie told him it was\nthe\nhangout for wealthier New York\n Century-Plussers. Gavir told her about the attack, and she laughed.\n \"It won't happen again. You're a hero to the Senile Delinquents now.\n By the way, the big fellow with the broad-brimmed hat, he's one of the\n most prominent Senile Delinquents of our day. He's president of the\n biggest privately-owned space line, but he likes to call himself the\n Hat Rat. You must be one of the few people who ever got away from him\n alive.\"\n\n\n \"He seemed happy to get away from me,\" said Gavir.\n\n\n An arrangement of force-planes and 3V projections made the front of\n Lucifer Grotto appear to be a curtain of flames. Gavir hung back, but\n Sylvie inserted a tiny gold pitchfork into a small aperture in the\n glowing, rippling surface. The flames swept aside, revealing a\n doorway. A bearded man in black tights escorted them through a\n luridly-lit bar to a private room. When they were alone, Sylvie\n dropped her cape to the floor, sat on the edge of a huge, pink divan,\n and smiled at Gavir.\n\n\n Gavir contemplated her. That she was over a hundred years old was a\n little frightening. But the skin of her face and her bare upper body\n was a warm color, and tautly filled. She had lashed out at Spurling,\n and he liked her for that. But in one way she was like Spurling. She\n didn't fit into the bland, non-violent world of Malcomb and Hoppy.\n\n\n He shook his head. He said, \"Sylvie, why—well, why are you the way\n you are? Why—and how—have you broken away from Ethical\n Conditioning?\"\n\n\n Sylvie frowned. She spoke a few words into the air, ordering drinks.\n She said, \"I didn't do it deliberately. When I reached the age of\n about a hundred it stopped working for me. I suddenly wanted to do\n what\nI\nwanted to do. And then I found out that I didn't\nknow\nwhat\n I wanted to do. It was Ethical Conditioning or nothing, so I picked\n nothing. And here I am, chasing nothing.\"\n\n\n \"How do you chase nothing?\"\n\n\n She set fire to a white tube. \"This, for instance. They used to do it\n before they found out it caused cancer. Now there's no more cancer,\n but even if there were, I'd still smoke. That's the attitude I have.\n You try things. You live in the past, if you're inclined, adopt the\n costumes and manners of some more colorful time. You try ridiculous\n things, disgusting things, vicious things. You know they're all\n nothing, but you have to do something, so you go on doing nothing,\n elaborately and violently.\"\n\n\n A tray of drinks rose through the floor. Sylvie frowned as she noticed\n a folded paper tucked between the glasses. She picked it up and read\n it, chuckled, and read it again, aloud.\n\n\n \"Sir: I beg you to forgive the presumption of my recent attack on\n you. Since then you have captured my imagination. I now hold you to be\n the noblest savage of them all. Henceforward please consider me, Your\n obedient servant, Hat Rat.\"\n\n\n \"You've impressed him,\" said Sylvie. \"But you impress me even more.\n Come here.\"\n\n\n She held out slim arms to him. He had no wish to refuse her. She was\n not like a Martian woman, but he found the differences exciting and\n attractive. He went to her, and he forgot entirely that she was over a\n hundred years old.\nIn the months that followed, Gavir's fame spread over Earth. By\n spring, the rating computers credited him with an audience of eight\n hundred million—ninety-five percent of whom were Century-Plussers.\n Davery doubled Gavir's salary.\n\n\n Gavir toured the world with Sylvie, mobbed everywhere by worshipful\n Century-Plussers. Male Century-Plussers by the millions adopted blue\n doublets and blue kilts in honor of their hero.\n\n\n Blue-dyed hair was now\nde rigueur\namong the ladies of Lucifer\n Grotto. The Hat Rat himself, who often appeared at a respectful\n distance in crowds around Gavir, now wore a wide-brimmed hat of\n brightest blue.\n\n\n Then there came the dreamcast on which Gavir sang the\nSong of\n Complaint\n.\n\n\n It was an ancient song, a Desert Man's outcry against injustice,\n enemies, false friends and callous leaders. It was a protest against\n sufferings that could neither be borne nor prevented. At the climax of\n the song Gavir pictured a tribal chief who refused to make fair\n division of the spoils of a hunt with his warriors. Gradually he\n allowed this image to turn into a picture of Hoppy Davery withholding\n bundles of money from a starving Gavir. Then he ended the song.\n\n\n Hoppy sent for him next morning.\n\n\n \"Why did you do that?\" he said. \"Listen to this.\"\n\n\n A recorded voice boomed: \"This is Hat Rat. Pay the Blue Boy what he\n deserves, or I will give you death. It will be a personal thing\n between you and me. I will besprinkle you with corrosive acids; I will\n burn out your eyes; I will—\"\n\n\n Hoppy cut the voice off. Gavir saw that he was sweating. \"There were\ndozens\nlike that. If you want more money, I'll\ngive\nyou more\n money. Say something nice about me on your next dreamcast, for\n heaven's sake!\"\n\n\n Gavir spread his big blue hands. \"I am sorry. I don't want more money.\n I cannot always control the pictures I make. These images come into\n my mind even though they have nothing to do with me.\"\n\n\n Hoppy shook his head. \"That's because you haven't had Ethical\n Conditioning. We don't have this trouble with our other performers.\n You just must remember that dreamvision is the most potent\n communications medium ever devised. Be\ncareful\n.\"\n\n\n \"I will,\" said Gavir.\nOn his next dreamcast Gavir sang the\nSong of the Blood Feud\n. He\n pictured a Desert Man whose father had been killed by a drock.\n\n\n The Desert Man ran over the red sand, and he found the drock. He did\n not throw his knife. That would not have satisfied his hatred. He fell\n upon the drock and stabbed and stabbed.\n\n\n The Desert Man howled his hunting-cry over the body of his enemy, and\n spat into its face.\n\n\n And the fanged face of the drock turned into the square, battered face\n of Jarvis Spurling. Gavir held the image in his mind for a long\n moment.\n\n\n When the dreamcast was over, a studio page ran up to Gavir. \"Mr.\n Spurling wants to see you at once, at his office.\"\n\n\n \"Let him come and find me,\" said Gavir. \"Let us go, Sylvie.\"\n\n\n They went to Lucifer Grotto, where Gavir's wealthiest admirers among\n the Senile Delinquents were giving a party for him in the Pandemonium\n Room. The only prominent person missing, as Sylvie remarked after\n surveying the crowd, was the Hat Rat. They wondered about it, but no\n one knew where he was.\n\n\n Sheets of flame illuminated the wild features and strange garments of\n over a hundred Century-Plus ladies and gentlemen. Gouts of flame\n leaped from the walls to light antique-style cigarettes. Drinks were\n refilled from nozzles of molded fire.\n\n\n An hour passed from the time of Gavir's arrival.\n\n\n Then Jarvis Spurling joined the party. There was a heavy frontier\n sonic pistol strapped at his waist. A protesting Malcomb was behind\n him.\n\n\n Jarvis Spurling's square face was dark with anger. \"You deliberately\n put my face on that animal! You want to make the public hate me. I pay\n your salary and keep you here on Earth, and this is what I get for it.\n All right. A Bluie is a Bluie, and I'll treat you like a Bluie should\n be treated.\" He unsnapped his holster and drew the square, heavy\n pistol out and pointed it at Gavir.\n\n\n Gavir stood up. His right hand plucked at his doublet.\n\n\n \"You're itching to go for that throwing knife,\" said Spurling. \"Go on!\n Take it out and get ready to throw it. I'll give you that much\n chance. Let's make a game out of this. We'll make like we're back on\n Mars, Bluie, and you're out hunting a drock. And you find one, only\n this drock has a gun. How about that, Bluie?\"\n\n\n Gavir took out the narvoon, grasped the blade, and drew his arm back.\n\n\n \"Gavir!\"\n\n\n It was the Hat Rat. He stood between pillars of flame in the doorway\n of the Pandemonium Room of Lucifer Grotto, and there was a peculiar\n contrivance of dark brown wood and black metal tubing cradled in his\n arm. \"This ancient shotgun I dedicate to your blood feud. I shall hunt\n down your enemy, Gavir!\"\n\n\n Spurling turned. The Hat Rat saw him.\n\n\n \"The enemy!\" the Hat Rat shouted.\n\n\n The shotgun exploded.\n\n\n Spurling's body was thrown back against Gavir. Gavir saw a huge ragged\n red caved-in place in Spurling's chest. Spurling's body sagged to the\n floor and lay there face up, eyes open. The Senile Delinquents of\n Lucifer Grotto leaned forward to grin at the tattered body.\n\n\n Still holding the narvoon, Gavir stood over his dead enemy. He threw\n back his head and howled out the hunting cry of the Desert Men. Then\n he looked down and spat in Jarvis Spurling's dead face.\nEND\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the white tube?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_1", "options": ["A cigarette", "We don't know", "A narvoon", "A shotgun"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What could Martians symbolize?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_2", "options": ["Emigrants", "Europeans", "They do not symbolize anything", "Indigenous peoples"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What happens when Ethical Conditioning wears off?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_3", "options": ["People die", "People become evil", "People feel the need to explore every experience", "People lose their sanity"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following technologies is the dreamcast most like?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_4", "options": ["Telephone", "Internet", "Radio", "Television"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How do Martians tell their stories?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_5", "options": ["Song", "Dreamcasting", "Oral tradition", "Written word"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is Gavir's motivation?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_6", "options": ["Fear", "Money", "Revenge", "Fame"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0043", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why can't Gavir throw his knife?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_7", "options": ["He is worried about losing it", "He can", "The gravity is different", "It would be illegal"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why is Blue Boy an offensive nickname?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_8", "options": ["It isn't offensive", "Gavir is sad", "Gavir's whole race is blue", "Because Sylvie came up with it"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What saved Gavir's life?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_9", "options": ["His knife", "Sylvie", "Money", "Fame"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is an appropriate theme for this story?", "question_unique_id": "31736_9W69Z6VQ_10", "options": ["Everyone is equal", "Revenge is bad", "Entertainment is influential", "Revenge is good"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/1/7/3/31736//31736-h//31736-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "59368", "set_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Juvenile Delinquent", "year": 1955, "author": "Ludwig, Edward W.", "topic": "Families -- Fiction; Boys -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction; Literacy -- Fiction", "article": "juvenile delinquent\nBY EDWARD W. LUDWIG\nWhen everything is either restricted,\n \nconfidential or top-secret, a Reader\n \nis a very bad security risk.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, October 1955.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nTick-de-tock,\ntick-de-tock\n, whispered the antique clock on the first\n floor of the house.\n\n\n There was no sound save for the ticking—and for the pounding of\n Ronnie's heart.\n\n\n He stood alone in his upstairs bedroom. His slender-boned,\n eight-year-old body trembling, perspiration glittering on his white\n forehead.\n\n\n To Ronnie, the clock seemed to be saying:\nDaddy's coming, Daddy's coming.\nThe soft shadows of September twilight in this year of 2056 were\n seeping into the bedroom. Ronnie welcomed the fall of darkness. He\n wanted to sink into its deep silence, to become one with it, to escape\n forever from savage tongues and angry eyes.\n\n\n A burst of hope entered Ronnie's fear-filled eyes. Maybe something\n would happen. Maybe Dad would have an accident. Maybe—\n\n\n He bit his lip hard, shook his head. No. No matter what Dad might do,\n it wasn't right to wish—\n\n\n The whirling whine of a gyro-car mushroomed up from the landing\n platform outside.\n\n\n Ronnie shivered, his pulse quickening. The muscles in his small body\n were like a web of taut-drawn wires.\n\n\n Sound and movement below. Mom flicking off the controls of the\n kitchen's Auto-Chef. The slow stride of her high heels through the\n living room. The slamming of a gyro-car door. The opening of the front\n door of the house.\n\n\n Dad's deep, happy voice echoed up the stairway:\n\n\n \"Hi, beautiful!\"\n\n\n Ronnie huddled in the darkness by the half-open bedroom door.\nPlease, Mama\n, his mind cried,\nplease don't tell Daddy what I did.\nThere was a droning, indistinct murmur.\n\n\n Dad burst, \"He was doing\nwhat\n?\"\n\n\n More murmuring.\n\n\n \"I can't believe it. You really saw him?... I'll be damned.\"\n\n\n Ronnie silently closed the bedroom door.\nWhy did you tell him, Mama? Why did you have to tell him?\n\"Ronnie!\" Dad called.\n\n\n Ronnie held his breath. His legs seemed as numb and nerveless as the\n stumps of dead trees.\n\n\n \"\nRonnie! Come down here!\n\"\nLike an automaton, Ronnie shuffled out of his bedroom. He stepped\n on the big silver disk on the landing. The auto-stairs clicked into\n humming movement under his weight.\n\n\n To his left, on the wall, he caught kaleidoscopic glimpses of Mom's old\n pictures, copies of paintings by medieval artists like Rembrandt, Van\n Gogh, Cezanne, Dali. The faces seemed to be mocking him. Ronnie felt\n like a wounded bird falling out of the sky.\n\n\n He saw that Dad and Mom were waiting for him.\n\n\n Mom's round blue eyes were full of mist and sadness. She hadn't\n bothered to smooth her clipped, creamy-brown hair as she always did\n when Dad was coming home.\n\n\n And Dad, handsome in his night-black, skin-tight Pentagon uniform, had\n become a hostile stranger with narrowed eyes of black fire.\n\n\n \"Is it true, Ronnie?\" asked Dad. \"Were you really—really reading a\n book?\"\n\n\n Ronnie gulped. He nodded.\n\n\n \"Good Lord,\" Dad murmured. He took a deep breath and squatted down,\n held Ronnie's arms and looked hard into his eyes. For an instant he\n became the kind, understanding father that Ronnie knew.\n\n\n \"Tell me all about it, son. Where did you get the book? Who taught you\n to read?\"\n\n\n Ronnie tried to keep his legs from shaking. \"It was—Daddy, you won't\n make trouble, will you?\"\n\n\n \"This is between you and me, son. We don't care about anyone else.\"\n\n\n \"Well, it was Kenny Davis. He—\"\n\n\n Dad's fingers tightened on Ronnie's arms. \"Kenny Davis!\" he spat. \"The\n boy's no good. His father never had a job in his life. Nobody'd even\n offer him a job. Why, the whole town knows he's a Reader!\"\n\n\n Mom stepped forward. \"David, you promised you'd be sensible about this.\n You promised you wouldn't get angry.\"\n\n\n Dad grunted. \"All right, son. Go ahead.\"\n\n\n \"Well, one day after school Kenny said he'd show me something. He took\n me to his house—\"\n\n\n \"You went to that\nshack\n? You actually—\"\n\n\n \"Dear,\" said Mom. \"You promised.\"\n\n\n A moment of silence.\n\n\n Ronnie said, \"He took me to his house. I met his dad. Mr. Davis is lots\n of fun. He has a beard and he paints pictures and he's collected almost\n five hundred books.\"\n\n\n Ronnie's voice quavered.\n\n\n \"Go on,\" said Dad sternly.\n\n\n \"And I—and Mr. Davis said he'd teach me to read them if I promised not\n to tell anybody. So he taught me a little every day after school—oh,\n Dad, books are fun to read. They tell you things you can't see on the\n video or hear on the tapes.\"\n\n\n \"How long ago did all this start?\n\n\n \"T—two years ago.\"\n\n\n Dad rose, fists clenched, staring strangely at nothing.\n\n\n \"Two years,\" he breathed. \"I thought I had a good son, and yet for two\n years—\" He shook his head unbelievingly. \"Maybe it's my own fault.\n Maybe I shouldn't have come to this small town. I should have taken a\n house in Washington instead of trying to commute.\"\n\n\n \"David,\" said Mom, very seriously, almost as if she were praying, \"it\n won't be necessary to have him memory-washed, will it?\"\n\n\n Dad looked at Mom, frowning. Then he gazed at Ronnie. His soft-spoken\n words were as ominous as the low growl of thunder:\n\n\n \"I don't know, Edith. I don't know.\"\nDad strode to his easy chair by the fireplace. He sank into its\n foam-rubber softness, sighing. He murmured a syllable into a tiny\n ball-mike on the side of the chair. A metallic hand raised a lighted\n cigarette to his lips.\n\n\n \"Come here, son.\"\n\n\n Ronnie followed and sat on the hassock by Dad's feet.\n\n\n \"Maybe I've never really explained things to you, Ronnie. You see, you\n won't always be a boy. Someday you'll have to find a way of making a\n living. You've only two choices: You work for the government, like I\n do, or for a corporation.\"\n\n\n Ronnie blinked. \"Mr. Davis doesn't work for the gover'ment or for a\n corpor-ation.\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Davis isn't normal,\" Dad snapped. \"He's a hermit. No decent family\n would let him in their house. He grows his own food and sometimes he\n takes care of gardens for people. I want you to have more than that. I\n want you to have a nice home and be respected by people.\"\n\n\n Dad puffed furiously on his cigarette.\n\n\n \"And you can't get ahead if people know you've been a Reader. That's\n something you can't live down. No matter how hard you try, people\n always stumble upon the truth.\"\n\n\n Dad cleared his throat. \"You see, when you get a job, all the\n information you handle will have a classification. It'll be Restricted,\n Low-Confidential, Confidential, High-Confidential, Secret, Top-Secret.\n And all this information will be in writing. No matter what you do,\n you'll have access to some of this information at one time or another.\"\n\"B—but why do these things have to be so secret?\" Ronnie asked.\n\n\n \"Because of competitors, in the case of corporations—or because of\n enemy nations in the case of government work. The written material you\n might have access to could describe secret weapons and new processes\n or plans for next year's advertising—maybe even a scheme for, er,\n liquidation of a rival. If all facts and policies were made public,\n there might be criticism, controversy, opposition by certain groups.\n The less people know about things, the better. So we have to keep all\n these things secret.\"\n\n\n Ronnie scowled. \"But if things are written down, someone has to read\n them, don't they?\"\n\n\n \"Sure, son. One person in ten thousand might reach the point where\n his corporation or bureau will teach him to read. But you prove your\n ability and loyalty first. By the time you're 35 or 40, they might\nwant\nyou to learn to read. But for young people and children—well,\n it just isn't done. Why, the President himself wasn't trusted to learn\n till he was nearly fifty!\"\n\n\n Dad straightened his shoulders. \"Look at me. I'm only 30, but I've been\n a messenger for Secret material already. In a few years, if things go\n well, I should be handling\nTop\n-Secret stuff. And who knows? Maybe by\n the time I'm 50 I'll be\ngiving\norders instead of carrying them. Then\n I'll learn to read, too. That's the right way to do it.\"\n\n\n Ronnie shifted uncomfortably on the hassock. \"But can't a Reader get a\n job that's not so important. Like a barber or a plumber or—\"\n\n\n \"Don't you understand? The barber and plumbing equipment corporations\n set up their stores and hire men to work for them. You think they'd\n hire a Reader? People'd say you were a spy or a subversive or that\n you're crazy like old man Davis.\"\n\n\n \"Mr. Davis isn't crazy. And he isn't old. He's young, just like you,\n and—\"\n\n\n \"Ronnie!\"\n\n\n Dad's voice was knife-sharp and December-cold. Ronnie slipped off the\n hassock as if struck physically by the fury of the voice. He sat\n sprawled on his small posterior, fresh fear etched on his thin features.\n\n\n \"Damn it, son, how could you even\nthink\nof being a Reader? You've got\n a life-sized, 3-D video here, and we put on the smell and touch and\n heat attachments just for you. You can listen to any tape in the world\n at school. Ronnie, don't you realize I'd lose my job if people knew I\n had a Reader for a son?\"\n\n\n \"B—but, Daddy—\"\n\n\n Dad jumped to his feet. \"I hate to say it, Edith, but we've got to put\n this boy in a reformatory. Maybe a good memory-wash will take some of\n the nonsense out of him!\"\nRonnie suppressed a sob. \"No, Daddy, don't let them take away my brain.\n Please—\"\n\n\n Dad stood very tall and very stiff, not even looking at him. \"They\n won't take your brain, just your memory for the past two years.\"\n\n\n A corner of Mom's mouth twitched. \"David, I didn't want anything like\n this. I thought maybe Ronnie could have a few private psychiatric\n treatments. They can do wonderful things now—permi-hypnosis, creations\n of artificial psychic blocks. A memory-wash would mean that Ronnie'd\n have the mind of a six-year-old child again. He'd have to start to\n school all over again.\"\n\n\n Dad returned to his chair. He buried his face in trembling hands, and\n some of his anger seemed replaced by despair. \"Lord, Edith, I don't\n know what to do.\"\n\n\n He looked up abruptly, as if struck by a chilling new thought. \"You\n can't keep a two-year memory-wash a secret. I never thought of that\n before. Why, that alone would mean the end of my promotions.\"\n\n\n Silence settled over the room, punctuated only by the ticking of the\n antique clock. All movement seemed frozen, as if the room lay at the\n bottom of a cold, thick sea.\n\n\n \"David,\" Mom finally said.\n\n\n \"Yes?\"\n\n\n \"There's only one solution. We can't destroy two years of Ronnie's\n memory—you said that yourself. So we'll have to take him to a\n psychiatrist or maybe a psychoneurologist. A few short treatments—\"\n\n\n Dad interrupted: \"But he'd\nstill\nremember how to read, unconsciously\n anyway. Even permi-hypnosis would wear off in time. The boy can't keep\n going to psychiatrists for the rest of his life.\"\n\n\n Thoughtfully he laced his fingers together. \"Edith, what kind of a book\n was he reading?\"\n\n\n A tremor passed through Mom's slender body. \"There were three books on\n his bed. I'm not sure which one he was actually reading.\"\n\n\n Dad groaned. \"\nThree\nof them. Did you burn them?\"\n\n\n \"No, dear, not yet.\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"I don't know. Ronnie seemed to like them so much. I thought that maybe\n tonight, after you d seen them—\"\n\n\n \"Get them, damn it. Let's burn the filthy things.\"\n\n\n Mom went to a mahogany chest in the dining room, produced three faded\n volumes. She put them on the hassock at Dad's feet.\n\n\n Dad gingerly turned a cover. His lips curled in disgust as if he were\n touching a rotting corpse.\n\n\n \"Old,\" he mused, \"—so very old. Ironic, isn't it? Our lives are being\n wrecked by things that should have been destroyed and forgotten a\n hundred years ago.\"\n\n\n A sudden frown contorted his dark features.\nTick-de-tock, tick-de-tock\n, said the antique clock.\n\n\n \"A hundred years old,\" he repeated. His mouth became a hard, thin line.\n \"Edith, I think I know why Ronnie wanted to read, why he fell into the\n trap so easily.\"\n\n\n \"What do you mean, David?\"\n\n\n Dad nodded at the clock, and the slow, smouldering anger returned to\n his face. \"It's\nyour\nfault, Edith. You've always liked old things.\n That clock of your great-great-grandmother's. Those old prints on the\n wall. That stamp collection you started for Ronnie—stamps dated way\n back to the 1940's.\"\n\n\n Mom's face paled. \"I don't understand.\"\n\n\n \"You've interested Ronnie in old things. To a child in its formative\n years, in a pleasant house, these things symbolize peace and security.\n Ronnie's been conditioned from the very time of his birth to like old\n things. It was natural for him to be attracted by books. And we were\n just too stupid to realize it.\"\n\n\n Mom whispered hoarsely, \"I'm sorry, David.\"\n\n\n Hot anger flashed in Dad's eyes. \"It isn't enough to be sorry. Don't\n you see what this means? Ronnie'll have to be memory-washed back to the\n time of birth. He'll have to start life all over again.\"\n\n\n \"No, David, no!\"\n\n\n \"And in my position I can't afford to have an eight-year-old son with\n the mind of a new-born baby. It's got to be Abandonment, Edith, there's\n no other way. The boy can start life over in a reformatory, with a\n complete memory-wash. He'll never know we existed, and he'll never\n bother us again.\"\n\n\n Mom ran up to Dad. She put her hands on his shoulders. Great sobs burst\n from her shaking body.\n\n\n \"You can't, David! I won't let—\"\n\n\n He slapped her then with the palm of his hand. The sound was like a\n pistol shot in the hot, tight air.\n\n\n Dad stood now like a colossus carved of black ice. His right hand was\n still upraised, ready to strike again.\n\n\n Then his hand fell. His mind seemed to be toying with a new thought, a\n new concept.\n\n\n He seized one of the books on the hassock.\n\n\n \"Edith,\" he said crisply, \"just what was Ronnie reading? What's the\n name of this book?\"\n\n\n \"\nThe—The Adventures of Tom Sawyer\n,\" said Mom through her sobs.\n\n\n He grabbed the second book, held it before her shimmering vision.\n\n\n \"And the name of this?\"\n\n\n \"\nTarzan of The Apes.\n\" Mom's voice was a barely audible croak.\n\n\n \"Who's the author?\"\n\n\n \"Edgar Rice Burroughs.\"\n\n\n \"And this one?\"\n\n\n \"\nThe Wizard of Oz.\n\"\n\n\n \"Who wrote it?\"\n\n\n \"L. Frank Baum.\"\n\n\n He threw the books to the floor. He stepped backward. His face was a\n mask of combined sorrow, disbelief, and rage.\n\n\n \"\nEdith.\n\" He spat the name as if it were acid on his tongue. \"Edith,\nyou can read\n!\"\nMom sucked in her sobs. Her chalk-white cheeks were still streaked with\n rivulets of tears.\n\n\n \"I'm sorry, David. I've never told anyone—not even Ronnie. I haven't\n read a book, haven't even looked at one since we were married. I've\n tried to be a good wife—\"\n\n\n \"A good wife.\" Dad sneered. His face was so ugly that Ronnie looked\n away.\n\n\n Mom continued, \"I—I learned when I was just a girl. I was young like\n Ronnie. You know how young people are—reckless, eager to do forbidden\n things.\"\n\n\n \"You lied to me,\" Dad snapped. \"For ten years you've lied to me. Why\n did you want to read, Edith?\nWhy?\n\"\n\n\n Mom was silent for a few seconds. She was breathing heavily, but no\n longer crying. A calmness entered her features, and for the first time\n tonight Ronnie saw no fear in her eyes.\n\n\n \"I wanted to read,\" she said, her voice firm and proud, \"because, as\n Ronnie said, it's fun. The video's nice, with its dancers and lovers\n and Indians and spacemen—but sometimes you want more than that.\n Sometimes you want to know how people feel deep inside and how they\n think. And there are beautiful words and beautiful thoughts, just like\n there are beautiful paintings. It isn't enough just to hear them and\n then forget them. Sometimes you want to keep the words and thoughts\n before you because in that way you feel that they belong to you.\"\n\n\n Her words echoed in the room until absorbed by the ceaseless, ticking\n clock. Mom stood straight and unashamed. Dad's gaze traveled slowly to\n Ronnie, to Mom, to the clock, back and forth.\n\n\n At last he said, \"Get out.\"\n\n\n Mom stared blankly.\n\n\n \"Get out. Both of you. You can send for your things later. I never want\n to see either of you again.\"\n\n\n \"David—\"\n\n\n \"I said\nget out\n!\"\n\n\n Ronnie and Mom left the house. Outside, the night was dark and a wind\n was rising. Mom shivered in her thin house cloak.\n\n\n \"Where will we go, Ronnie? Where, where—\"\n\n\n \"I know a place. Maybe we can stay there—for a little while.\"\n\n\n \"A little while?\" Mom echoed. Her mind seemed frozen by the cold wind.\n\n\n Ronnie led her through the cold, windy streets. They left the lights of\n the town behind them. They stumbled over a rough, dirt country road.\n They came to a small, rough-boarded house in the deep shadow of an\n eucalyptus grove. The windows of the house were like friendly eyes of\n warm golden light.\n\n\n An instant later a door opened and a small boy ran out to meet them.\n\n\n \"Hi, Kenny.\"\n\n\n \"Hi. Who's that? Your mom?\"\n\n\n \"Yep. Mr. Davis in?\"\n\n\n \"Sure.\"\n\n\n And a kindly-faced, bearded young man appeared in the golden doorway,\n smiling.\n\n\n Ronnie and Mom stepped inside.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How does memory erasing work in the story?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_1", "options": ["Reading can only be scrambled in a person’s memory, but not erased", "It is done only to families that abandon their children", "All experiences are completely forgotten for a given time period", "Select memories can be wiped out"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who lives with Ronnie?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_2", "options": ["Mom, Dad", "Mom, Dad, Grandmother", "Mom, Dad, Kenny", "Mom, Grandmother, Mr. Davis"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How much time passes during the story?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_3", "options": ["Part of a day", "Two years", "A month", "Eight years"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Where does the family live?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_4", "options": ["In a suburb in Illinois", "In an apartment in the city", "In Washington, DC for Dad’s work", "In a small town near the countryside"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many adult characters have speaking roles?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_5", "options": ["Three", "Two", "Four", "Five"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Edith and Ronnie?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_6", "options": ["Edith is strict with no tolerance towards Ronnie", "Edith taught Ronnie to read", "They are kindred spirits that had similar interests in childhood", "Edith adopted Ronnie in his childhood"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "When does Dad think books should have been destroyed?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_7", "options": ["Before 1925", "In the year 2000", "Before 1956", "In the year 2056"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Ronnie and David?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_8", "options": ["Ronnie plays with David after school", "David is angry with Ronnie and desperate for solutions", "David taught Ronnie to read secretly", "David is tolerant of Ronnie’s desire to learn"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What qualities does a person need before they are taught to read?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_9", "options": ["Lack of farming skills", "High IQ, no mechanical abilities", "Government credentials", "Status, allegiance"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why was reading forbidden?", "question_unique_id": "59368_ZBH0NQ5U_10", "options": ["It created castes", "It turned citizens against the government, making it risky for a child of a government employee to learn to read", "It is not revealed", "It turned people away from the hard labor the government required of them"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/9/3/6/59368//59368-h//59368-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "59679", "set_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Rumble and the Roar", "year": 1958, "author": "Bartholomew, Stephen", "topic": "PS; Silence -- Fiction; Short stories; Inventions -- Fiction; Psychological fiction; Noise -- Fiction; Science fiction", "article": "THE RUMBLE AND THE ROAR\nBY STEPHEN BARTHOLOMEW\nThe noise was too much for him.\n \nHe wanted quiet—at any price.\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, February 1957.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nWhen Joseph got to the office his ears were aching from the noise of\n the copter and from his earplugs. Lately, every little thing seemed to\n make him irritable. He supposed it was because his drafting department\n was behind schedule on the latest Defense contract. His ears were sore\n and his stomach writhed with dyspepsia, and his feet hurt.\n\n\n Walking through the clerical office usually made him feel better. The\n constant clatter of typewriters and office machines gave him a sense\n of efficiency, of stability, an all-is-well-with-the-world feeling. He\n waved to a few of the more familiar employees and smiled, but of course\n you couldn't say hello with the continual racket.\n\n\n This morning, somehow, it didn't make him feel better. He supposed it\n was because of the song they were playing over the speakers, \"Slam Bang\n Boom,\" the latest Top Hit. He hated that song.\n\n\n Of course the National Mental Health people said constant music had a\n beneficial effect on office workers, so Joseph was no one to object,\n even though he did wonder if anyone could ever actually listen to it\n over the other noise.\n\n\n In his own office the steady din was hardly diminished despite\n soundproofing, and since he was next to an outside wall he was\n subjected also to the noises of the city. He stood staring out of the\n huge window for awhile, watching the cars on the freeway and listening\n to the homogeneous rumble and scream of turbines.\nSomething's wrong with me\n, he thought.\nI shouldn't be feeling this\n way. Nerves. Nerves.\nHe turned around and got his private secretary on the viewer. She\n simpered at him, trying to be friendly with her dull, sunken eyes.\n\n\n \"Betty,\" he told her, \"I want you to make an appointment with my\n therapist for me this afternoon. Tell him it's just a case of nerves,\n though.\"\n\n\n \"Yes sir. Anything else?\" Her voice, like every one's, was a high\n pitched screech trying to be heard above the noise.\n\n\n Joseph winced. \"Anybody want to see me this morning?\"\n\n\n \"Well, Mr. Wills says he has the first model of his invention ready to\n show you.\"\n\n\n \"Let him in whenever he's ready. Otherwise, if nothing important comes\n up, I want you to leave me alone.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, sir, certainly.\" She smiled again, a mechanical, automatic smile\n that seemed to want to be something more.\n\n\n Joseph switched off.\nThat was a damn funny way of saying it\n, he thought.\n\"I want you to\n leave me alone.\" As if somebody were after me.\nHe spent about an hour on routine paperwork and then Bob Wills showed\n up so Joseph switched off his dictograph and let him in.\n\n\n \"I'm afraid you'll have to make it brief, Bob,\" he grinned. \"I've a\n whale of a lot of work to do, and I seem to be developing a splitting\n headache. Nerves, you know.\"\n\n\n \"Sure, Mister Partch. I won't take a minute; I just thought you'd like\n to have a look at the first model of our widget and get clued in on our\n progress so far....\"\n\n\n \"Yes, yes, just go ahead. How does the thing work?\"\n\n\n Bob smiled and set the grey steel chassis on Partch's desk, sat down in\n front of it, and began tracing the wiring for Joseph.\n\n\n It was an interesting problem, or at any rate should have been. It\n was one that had been harassing cities, industry, and particularly\n air-fields, for many years. Of course, every one wore earplugs—and\n that helped a little. And some firms had partially solved the problem\n by using personnel that were totally deaf, because such persons\n were the only ones who could stand the terrific noise levels that a\n technological civilization forced everyone to endure. The noise from\n a commercial rocket motor on the ground had been known to drive men\n mad, and sometimes kill them. There had never seemed to be any wholly\n satisfactory solution.\n\n\n But now Bob Wills apparently had the beginnings of a real answer. A\n device that would use the principle of interference to cancel out sound\n waves, leaving behind only heat.\n\n\n It should have been fascinating to Partch, but somehow he couldn't make\n himself get interested in it.\n\n\n \"The really big problem is the power requirement,\" Wills was saying.\n \"We've got to use a lot of energy to cancel out big sound waves, but\n we've got several possible answers in mind and we're working on all of\n them.\"\n\n\n He caressed the crackle-finish box fondly.\n\n\n \"The basic gimmick works fine, though. Yesterday I took it down to a\n static test stand over in building 90 and had them turn on a pretty\n fair-sized steering rocket for one of the big moon-ships. Reduced the\n noise-level by about 25 per cent, it did. Of course, I still needed my\n plugs.\"\n\n\n Joseph nodded approvingly and stared vacantly into the maze of\n transistors and tubes.\n\n\n \"I've built it to work on ordinary 60 cycle house current,\" Wills told\n him. \"In case you should want to demonstrate it to anybody.\"\n\n\n Partch became brusque. He liked Bob, but he had work to do.\n\n\n \"Yes, I probably shall, Bob. I tell you what, why don't you just leave\n it here in my office and I'll look it over later, hm?\"\n\n\n \"Okay, Mr. Partch.\"\n\n\n Joseph ushered him out of the office, complimenting him profusely on\n the good work he was doing. Only after he was gone and Joseph was alone\n again behind the closed door, did he realize that he had a sudden\n yearning for company, for someone to talk to.\nPartch had Betty send him in a light lunch and he sat behind his desk\n nibbling the tasteless stuff without much enthusiasm. He wondered if he\n was getting an ulcer.\n\n\n Yes, he decided, he was going to have to have a long talk with Dr.\n Coles that afternoon. Be a pleasure to get it all off his chest, his\n feeling of melancholia, his latent sense of doom. Be good just to talk\n about it.\n\n\n Oh, everything was getting to him these days. He was in a rut, that was\n it. A rut.\n\n\n He spat a sesame seed against the far wall and the low whir of the\n automatic vacuum cleaner rose and fell briefly.\n\n\n Joseph winced. The speakers were playing \"Slam Bang Boom\" again.\n\n\n His mind turned away from the grating melody in self defense, to look\n inward on himself.\n\n\n Of what, after all, did Joseph Partch's life consist? He licked his\n fingers and thought about it.\n\n\n What would he do this evening after work, for instance?\n\n\n Why, he'd stuff his earplugs back in his inflamed ears and board the\n commuter's copter and ride for half an hour listening to the drumming\n of the rotors and the pleading of the various canned commercials played\n on the copter's speakers loud enough to be heard over the engine noise\n and through the plugs.\n\n\n And then when he got home, there would be the continuous yammer of his\n wife added to the Tri-Di set going full blast and the dull food from\n the automatic kitchen. And synthetic coffee and one stale cigaret.\n Perhaps a glass of brandy to steady his nerves if Dr. Coles approved.\n\n\n Partch brooded. The sense of foreboding had been submerged in the day's\n work, but it was still there. It was as if, any moment, a hydrogen\n bomb were going to be dropped down the chimney, and you had no way of\n knowing when.\n\n\n And what would there be to do after he had finished dinner that night?\n Why, the same things he had been doing every night for the past fifteen\n years. There would be Tri-Di first of all. The loud comedians, and the\n musical commercials, and the loud bands, and the commercials, and the\n loud songs....\n\n\n And every twenty minutes or so, the viewer would jangle with one of\n Felicia's friends calling up, and more yammering from Felicia.\n\n\n Perhaps there would be company that night, to play cards and sip drinks\n and talk and talk and talk, and never say a thing at all.\n\n\n There would be aircraft shaking the house now and then, and the cry of\n the monorail horn at intervals.\n\n\n And then, at last, it would be time to go to bed, and the murmur of the\n somnolearner orating him on the Theory of Groups all through the long\n night.\n\n\n And in the morning, he would be shocked into awareness with the clangor\n of the alarm clock and whatever disc jockey the clock radio happened to\n tune in on.\n\n\n Joseph Partch's world was made up of sounds and noises, he decided.\n Dimly, he wondered of what civilization itself would be constructed if\n all the sounds were once taken away.\nWhy\n, after all, was the world\n of Man so noisy? It was almost as if—as if everybody were making as\n much noise as they could to conceal the fact that there was something\n lacking. Or something they were afraid of.\n\n\n Like a little boy whistling loudly as he walks by a cemetery at night.\n\n\n Partch got out of his chair and stared out the window again. There was\n a fire over on the East Side, a bad one by the smoke. The fire engines\n went screaming through the streets like wounded dragons. Sirens, bells.\n Police whistles.\n\n\n All at once, Partch realized that never in his life had he experienced\n real quiet or solitude. That actually, he had no conception of what an\n absence of thunder and wailing would be like. A total absence of sound\n and noise.\n\n\n Almost, it was like trying to imagine what a negation of\nspace\nwould\n be like.\n\n\n And then he turned, and his eyes fell on Bob Wills' machine. It could\n reduce the noise level of a rocket motor by 25 per cent, Wills had\n said. Here in the office, the sound level was less than that of a\n rocket motor.\n\n\n And the machine worked on ordinary house current, Bob had said.\n\n\n Partch had an almost horrifying idea. Suppose....\n\n\n But what would Dr. Coles say about this, Partch wondered. Oh, he had to\n get a grip on himself. This was silly, childish....\n\n\n But looking down, he found that he had already plugged in the line\n cord. An almost erotic excitement began to shake Joseph's body. The\n sense of disaster had surged up anew, but he didn't recognize it yet.\n\n\n An absence of\nsound\n? No! Silly!\n\n\n Then a fire engine came tearing around the corner just below the\n window, filling the office with an ocean of noise.\n\n\n Joseph's hand jerked and flicked the switch.\n\n\n And then the dream came back to him, the nightmare of the night before\n that had precipitated, unknown to him, his mood of foreboding. It came\n back to him with stark realism and flooded him with unadorned fear.\n\n\n In the dream, he had been in a forest. Not just the city park, but a\nreal\nforest, one thousands of miles and centuries away from human\n civilization. A wood in which the foot of Man had never trod.\n\n\n It was dark there, and the trees were thick and tall. There was no\n wind, the leaves were soft underfoot. And Joseph Partch was all alone,\ncompletely\nalone.\n\n\n And it was—quiet.\n\n\n Doctor Coles looked at the patient on the white cot sadly.\n\n\n \"I've only seen a case like it once before in my entire career, Dr.\n Leeds.\"\n\n\n Leeds nodded.\n\n\n \"It\nis\nrather rare. Look at him—total catatonia. He's curled into a\n perfect foetal position. Never be the same again, I'm afraid.\"\n\n\n \"The shock must have been tremendous. An awful psychic blow, especially\n to a person as emotionally disturbed as Mr. Partch was.\"\n\n\n \"Yes, that machine of Mr. Wills' is extremely dangerous. What amazes\n me is that it didn't kill Partch altogether. Good thing we got to him\n when we did.\"\n\n\n Dr. Coles rubbed his jaw.\n\n\n \"Yes, you know it\nis\nincredible how much the human mind can sometimes\n take, actually. As you say, it's a wonder it didn't kill him.\"\n\n\n He shook his head.\n\n\n \"Perfectly horrible. How could any modern human stand it? Two hours, he\n was alone with that machine. Imagine—\ntwo hours\nof total silence!\"\n", "questions": [{"question": "What is the real reason that Mr. Partch feels melancholy?", "question_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5_1", "options": ["Unhappy in his marriage", "Bob has been disappointing him", "Turned down for a promotion", "Noise"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many times was Bob’s machine tested?", "question_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5_2", "options": ["Never before", "It had been in development for years, so many tests", "At least once before Mr. Partch plugged it in", "It had undergone weeks of testing"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who are the people that desire silence in the story?", "question_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5_3", "options": ["Mr. Partch and Felicity", "Bob and Dr. Coles", "Mr. Partch and Dr. Coles", "Mr. Partch"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a common theme in the sounds that Mr. Partch is hearing?", "question_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5_4", "options": ["His own voice", "Whistling", "Advertisements", "National anthem"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following is NOT a feeling Mr. Partch transitions through in the story?", "question_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5_5", "options": ["Nervousness", "Jealousy", "Melancholy", "Euphoria"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the primary problem Bob is trying to solve with his invention?", "question_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5_6", "options": ["Time stopping", "Engine efficiency", "Quieting", "New moon-ship designs"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the relationship like between Bob and Mr. Partch?", "question_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5_7", "options": ["Bob reports to Mr. Partch, but their relationship does not go any deeper", "Bob is secretly part of the team trying to convince Mr. Partch he is going mad", "Bob and Mr. Partch conspire to get the music turned off in the office", "Mr. Partch is Bob’s superior, and he is not supportive of Bob’s latest project"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "When there was music playing on the speakers in the office, what was favored?", "question_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5_8", "options": ["Popular music", "Classics", "Engine noise", "Talk radio"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the importance of the National Mental Health society to the story?", "question_unique_id": "59679_LHYOIDR5_9", "options": ["The engineers worked under threat of being turned in to the society if their project were discovered", "Mr. Partch cared for his mental health by seeing a therapist, and required further care when he experienced silence", "There was no National society, which is what Mr. Partch was trying to change", "The society played music so loudly in the office buildings that nobody could get any work done, driving Mr. Partch into the care of the society"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/5/9/6/7/59679//59679-h//59679-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "31282", "set_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "Mars Confidential", "year": 1953, "author": "Browne, Howard", "topic": "Mafia -- Fiction; Science fiction; Mars (Planet) -- Fiction; PS; Short stories", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from Amazing Stories April-May 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\nMARS CONFIDENTIAL!\nJack Lait & Lee Mortimer\nIllustrator\n: L. R. Summers\nHere is history's biggest news scoop! Those intrepid\n reporters Jack Lait and Lee Mortimer, whose best-selling\n exposes of life's seamy side from New York to Medicine Hat\n have made them famous, here strip away the veil of millions\n of miles to bring you the lowdown on our sister planet. It\n is an amazing account of vice and violence, of virtues and\n victims, told in vivid, jet-speed style.\nHere you'll learn why Mars is called the Red Planet, the\n part the Mafia plays in her undoing, the rape and rapine\n that has made this heavenly body the cesspool of the\n Universe. In other words, this is Mars—Confidential!\nP-s-s-s-s-t!\n\n\n HERE WE GO AGAIN—Confidential.\n\n\n We turned New York inside out. We turned Chicago upside down. In\n Washington we turned the insiders out and the outsiders in. The howls\n can still be heard since we dissected the U.S.A.\n\n\n But Mars was our toughest task of spectroscoping. The cab drivers\n spoke a different language and the bell-hops couldn't read our\n currency. Yet, we think we have X-rayed the dizziest—and this may\n amaze you—the dirtiest planet in the solar system. Beside it, the\n Earth is as white as the Moon, and Chicago is as peaceful as the Milky\n Way.\n\n\n By the time we went through Mars—its canals, its caves, its\n satellites and its catacombs—we knew more about it than anyone who\n lives there.\n\n\n We make no attempt to be comprehensive. We have no hope or aim to make\n Mars a better place in which to live; in fact, we don't give a damn\n what kind of a place it is to live in.\n\n\n This will be the story of a planet that could have been another proud\n and majestic sun with a solar system of its own; it ended up, instead,\n in the comic books and the pulp magazines.\n\n\n We give you MARS CONFIDENTIAL!\nI\nTHE LOWDOWN CONFIDENTIAL\nBefore the space ship which brings the arriving traveler lands at the\n Martian National Airport, it swoops gracefully over the nearby city in\n a salute. The narrow ribbons, laid out in geometric order, gradually\n grow wider until the water in these man-made rivers becomes crystal\n clear and sparkles in the reflection of the sun.\n\n\n As Mars comes closer, the visitor from Earth quickly realizes it has a\n manner and a glamor of its own; it is unworldy, it is out of this\n world. It is not the air of distinction one finds in New York or\n London or Paris. The Martian feeling is dreamlike; it comes from being\n close to the stuff dreams are made of.\n\n\n However, after the sojourner lands, he discovers that Mars is not much\n different than the planet he left; indeed, men are pretty much the\n same all over the universe, whether they carry their plumbing inside\n or outside their bodies.\n\n\n As we unfold the rates of crime, vice, sex irregularities, graft,\n cheap gambling, drunkenness, rowdyism and rackets, you will get,\n thrown on a large screen, a peep show you never saw on your TV during\n the science-fiction hour.\n\n\n Each day the Earth man spends on Mars makes him feel more at home;\n thus, it comes as no surprise to the initiated that even here, at\n least 35,000,000 miles away from Times Square, there are hoodlums who\n talk out of the sides of their mouths and drive expensive convertibles\n with white-walled tires and yellow-haired frails. For the Mafia, the\n dread Black Hand, is in business here—tied up with the\n subversives—and neither the Martian Committee for the Investigation\n of Crime and Vice, nor the Un-Martian Activities Committee, can dent\n it more than the Kefauver Committee did on Earth, which is practically\n less than nothing.\nThis is the first time this story has been printed. We were offered\n four trillion dollars in bribes to hold it up; our lives were\n threatened and we were shot at with death ray guns.\n\n\n We got this one night on the fourth bench in Central Park, where we\n met by appointment a man who phoned us earlier but refused to tell his\n name. When we took one look at him we did not ask for his credentials,\n we just knew he came from Mars.\n\n\n This is what he told us:\n\n\n Shortly after the end of World War II, a syndicate composed of\n underworld big-shots from Chicago, Detroit and Greenpoint planned to\n build a new Las Vegas in the Nevada desert. This was to be a plush\n project for big spenders, with Vegas and Reno reserved for the\n hoi-polloi.\n\n\n There was to be service by a private airline. It would be so\n ultra-ultra that suckers with only a million would be thumbed away and\n guys with two million would have to come in through the back door.\n\n\n The Mafia sent a couple of front men to explore the desert. Somewhere\n out beyond the atom project they stumbled on what seemed to be the\n answer to their prayer.\n\n\n It was a huge, mausoleum-like structure, standing alone in the desert\n hundreds of miles from nowhere, unique, exclusive and mysterious. The\n prospectors assumed it was the last remnant of some fabulous and\n long-dead ghost-mining town.\n\n\n The entire population consisted of one, a little duffer with a white\n goatee and thick lensed spectacles, wearing boots, chaps and a silk\n hat.\n\n\n \"This your place, bud?\" one of the hoods asked.\n\n\n When he signified it was, the boys bought it. The price was\n agreeable—after they pulled a wicked-looking rod.\n\n\n Then the money guys came to look over their purchase. They couldn't\n make head or tail of it, and you can hardly blame them, because inside\n the great structure they found a huge contraption that looked like a\n cigar (Havana Perfecto) standing on end.\n\n\n \"What the hell is this,\" they asked the character in the opera hat, in\n what is known as a menacing attitude.\nThe old pappy guy offered to show them. He escorted them into the\n cigar, pressed a button here and there, and before you could say \"Al\n Capone\" the roof of the shed slid back and they began to move upward\n at a terrific rate of speed.\n\n\n Three or four of the Mafia chieftains were old hop-heads and felt at\n home. In fact, one of them remarked, \"Boy, are we gone.\" And he was\n right.\n\n\n The soberer Mafistas, after recovering from their first shock, laid\n ungentle fists on their conductor. \"What goes on?\" he was asked.\n\n\n \"This is a space ship and we are headed for Mars.\"\n\n\n \"What's Mars?\"\n\n\n \"A planet up in space, loaded with gold and diamonds.\"\n\n\n \"Any bims there?\"\n\n\n \"I beg your pardon, sir. What are bims?\"\n\n\n \"Get a load of this dope. He never heard of bims. Babes, broads,\n frails, pigeons, ribs—catch on?\"\n\n\n \"Oh, I assume you mean girls. There must be, otherwise what are the\n diamonds for?\"\n\n\n The outward trip took a week, but it was spent pleasantly. During that\n time, the Miami delegation cleaned out Chicago, New York and\n Pittsburgh in a klabiash game.\n\n\n The hop back, for various reasons, took a little longer. One reason\n may have been the condition of the crew. On the return the boys from\n Brooklyn were primed to the ears with\nzorkle\n.\nZorkle\nis a Martian medicinal distillation, made from the milk of\n the\nschznoogle\n—a six-legged cow, seldom milked because few Martians\n can run fast enough to catch one.\nZorkle\nis strong enough to rip\n steel plates out of battleships, but to stomachs accustomed to the\n stuff sold in Flatbush, it acted like a gentle stimulant.\n\n\n Upon their safe landing in Nevada, the Columbuses of this first flight\n to Mars put in long-distance calls to all the other important hoods in\n the country.\n\n\n The Crime Cartel met in Cleveland—in the third floor front of a\n tenement on Mayfield Road. The purpose of the meeting was to \"cut up\"\n Mars.\n\n\n Considerable dissension arose over the bookmaking facilities, when it\n was learned that the radioactive surface of the planet made it\n unnecessary to send scratches and results by wire. On the contrary,\n the steel-shod hooves of the animals set up a current which carried\n into every pool room, without a pay-off to the wire service.\n\n\n The final division found the apportionment as follows:\nNew York mob\n: Real estate and investments (if any)\nChicago mob\n: Bookmaking and liquor (if any)\nBrooklyn mob\n: Protection and assassinations\nJersey mob\n: Numbers (if any) and craps (if any)\nLos Angeles mob\n: Girls (if any)\nGalveston and New Orleans mobs\n: Dope (if any)\nCleveland mob\n: Casinos (if any)\nDetroit mob\n: Summer resorts (if any)\n\n\n The Detroit boys, incidentally, burned up when they learned the\n Martian year is twice as long as ours, consequently it takes two years\n for one summer to roll around.\n\n\n After the summary demise of three Grand Councilors whose deaths were\n recorded by the press as occurring from \"natural causes,\" the other\n major and minor mobs were declared in as partners.\n\n\n The first problem to be ironed out was how to speed up transportation;\n and failing that, to construct spacious space ships which would\n attract pleasure-bent trade from\nTerra\n—Earth to you—with such\n innovations as roulette wheels, steam rooms, cocktail lounges, double\n rooms with hot and cold babes, and other such inducements.\nII\nTHE INSIDE STUFF CONFIDENTIAL\nRemember, you got this first from Lait and Mortimer. And we defy\n anyone to call us liars—and prove it!\n\n\n Only chumps bring babes with them to Mars. The temperature is a little\n colder there than on Earth and the air a little thinner. So Terra\n dames complain one mink coat doesn't keep them warm; they need two.\n\n\n On the other hand, the gravity is considerably less than on Earth.\n Therefore, even the heaviest bim weighs less and can be pushed over\n with the greatest of ease.\n\n\n However, the boys soon discovered that the lighter gravity played\n havoc with the marijuana trade. With a slight tensing of the muscles\n you can jump 20 feet, so why smoke \"tea\" when you can fly like crazy\n for nothing?\n\n\n Martian women are bags, so perhaps you had better disregard the\n injunction above and bring your own, even if it means two furs.\n\n\n Did you ever see an Alaska\nklutch\n(pronounced klootch)? Probably\n not. Well, these Arctic horrors are Ziegfeld beauts compared to the\n Martian fair sex.\n\n\n They slouch with knees bent and knuckles brushing the ground, and if\n Ringling Bros, is looking for a mate for Gargantua, here is where to\n find her. Yet, their manner is habitually timid, as though they've\n been given a hard time. From the look in their deep-set eyes they seem\n to fear abduction or rape; but not even the zoot-suited goons from\n Greenpernt gave them a second tumble.\n\n\n The visiting Mafia delegation was naturally disappointed at this state\n of affairs. They had been led to believe by the little guy who\n escorted them that all Martian dames resembled Marilyn Monroe, only\n more so, and the men were Adonises (and not Joe).\n\n\n Seems they once were, at that. This was a couple of aeons ago when\n Earthmen looked like Martians do now, which seems to indicate that\n Martians, as well as Men, have their ups and downs.\n\n\n The citizens of the planet are apparently about halfway down the\n toboggan. They wear clothes, but they're not handstitched. Their\n neckties don't come from Sulka. No self-respecting goon from Gowanus\n would care to be seen in their company.\n\n\n The females always appear in public fully clothed, which doesn't help\n them either. But covering their faces would. They buy their dresses at\n a place called Kress-Worth and look like Paris\nnouveau riche\n.\n\n\n There are four separate nations there, though nation is hardly the\n word. It is more accurate to say there are four separate clans that\n don't like each other, though how they can tell the difference is\n beyond us. They are known as the East Side, West Side, North Side and\n Gas House gangs.\n\n\n Each stays in its own back-yard. Periodic wars are fought, a few\n thousand of the enemy are dissolved with ray guns, after which the\n factions retire by common consent and throw a banquet at which the\n losing country is forced to take the wives of the visitors, which is a\n twist not yet thought of on Earth.\n\n\n Martian language is unlike anything ever heard below. It would baffle\n the keenest linguist, if the keenest linguist ever gets to Mars.\n However, the Mafia, which is a world-wide blood brotherhood with\n colonies in every land and clime, has a universal language. Knives and\n brass knucks are understood everywhere.\n\n\n The Martian lingo seems to be somewhat similar to Chinese. It's not\n what they say, but how they say it. For instance,\npsonqule\nmay mean\n \"I love you\" or \"you dirty son-of-a-bitch.\"\n\n\n The Mafistas soon learned to translate what the natives were saying by\n watching the squint in their eyes. When they spoke with a certain\n expression, the mobsters let go with 45s, which, however, merely have\n a stunning effect on the gent on the receiving end because of the\n lesser gravity.\n\n\n On the other hand, the Martian death ray guns were not fatal to the\n toughs from Earth; anyone who can live through St. Valentine's Day in\n Chicago can live through anything. So it came out a dead heat.\n\n\n Thereupon the boys from the Syndicate sat down and declared the\n Martians in for a fifty-fifty partnership, which means they actually\n gave them one per cent, which is generous at that.\n\n\n Never having had the great advantages of a New Deal, the Martians are\n still backward and use gold as a means of exchange. With no Harvard\n bigdomes to tell them gold is a thing of the past, the yellow metal\n circulates there as freely and easily as we once kicked pennies around\n before they became extinct here.\n\n\n The Mafistas quickly set the Martians right about the futility of\n gold. They eagerly turned it over to the Earthmen in exchange for\n green certificates with pretty pictures engraved thereon.\nIII\nRACKETS VIA ROCKETS\nGold, platinum, diamonds and other precious stuff are as plentiful on\n Mars as hayfever is on Earth in August.\n\n\n When the gangsters lamped the loot, their greedy eyes and greasy\n fingers twitched, and when a hood's eyes and fingers twitch, watch\n out; something is twitching.\n\n\n The locals were completely honest. They were too dumb to be thieves.\n The natives were not acquisitive. Why should they be when gold was so\n common it had no value, and a neighbor's wife so ugly no one would\n covet her?\n\n\n This was a desperate situation, indeed, until one of the boys from\n East St. Louis uttered the eternal truth: \"There ain't no honest man\n who ain't a crook, and why should Mars be any different?\"\n\n\n The difficulty was finding the means and method of corruption. All the\n cash in Jake Guzik's strong box meant nothing to a race of characters\n whose brats made mudpies of gold dust.\n\n\n The discovery came as an accident.\n\n\n The first Earthman to be eliminated on Mars was a two-bit hood from\n North Clark Street who sold a five-cent Hershey bar with almonds to a\n Martian for a gold piece worth 94 bucks.\n\n\n The man from Mars bit the candy bar. The hood bit the gold piece.\n\n\n Then the Martian picked up a rock and beaned the lad from the Windy\n City. After which the Martian's eyes dilated and he let out a scream.\n Then he attacked the first Martian female who passed by. Never before\n had such a thing happened on Mars, and to say she was surprised is\n putting it lightly. Thereupon, half the female population ran after\n the berserk Martian.\n\n\n When the organization heard about this, an investigation was ordered.\n That is how the crime trust found out that there is no sugar on Mars;\n that this was the first time it had ever been tasted by a Martian;\n that it acts on them like junk does on an Earthman.\n\n\n They further discovered that the chief source of Martian diet\n is—believe it or not—poppy seed, hemp and coca leaf, and that the\n alkaloids thereof: opium, hasheesh and cocaine have not the slightest\n visible effect on them.\n\n\n Poppies grow everywhere, huge russet poppies, ten times as large as\n those on Earth and 100 times as deadly. It is these poppies which have\n colored the planet red. Martians are strictly vegetarian: they bake,\n fry and stew these flowers and weeds and eat them raw with a goo made\n from fungus and called\nszchmortz\nwhich passes for a salad dressing.\n\n\n Though the Martians were absolutely impervious to the narcotic\n qualities of the aforementioned flora, they got higher than Mars on\n small doses of sugar.\n\n\n So the Mafia was in business. The Martians sniffed granulated sugar,\n which they called snow. They ate cube sugar, which they called \"hard\n stuff\", and they injected molasses syrup into their veins with hypos\n and called this \"mainliners.\"\n\n\n There was nothing they would not do for a pinch of sugar. Gold,\n platinum and diamonds, narcotics by the acre—these were to be had in\n generous exchange for sugar—which was selling on Earth at a nickel or\n so a pound wholesale.\n\n\n The space ship went into shuttle service. A load of diamonds and dope\n coming back, a load of sugar and blondes going up. Blondes made\n Martians higher even than sugar, and brought larger and quicker\n returns.\n\n\n This is a confidential tip to the South African diamond trust: ten\n space ship loads of precious stones are now being cut in a cellar on\n Bleecker Street in New York. The mob plans to retail them for $25 a\n carat!\n\n\n Though the gangsters are buying sugar at a few cents a pound here and\n selling it for its weight in rubies on Mars, a hood is always a hood.\n They've been cutting dope with sugar for years on Earth, so they\n didn't know how to do it any different on Mars. What to cut the sugar\n with on Mars? Simple. With heroin, of course, which is worthless\n there.\n\n\n This is a brief rundown on the racket situation as it currently exists\n on our sister planet.\nFAKED PASSPORTS\n: When the boys first landed they found only vague\n boundaries between the nations, and Martians could roam as they\n pleased. Maybe this is why they stayed close to home. Though anyway\n why should they travel? There was nothing to see.\n\n\n The boys quickly took care of this. First, in order to make travel\n alluring, they brought 20 strippers from Calumet City and set them\n peeling just beyond the border lines.\n\n\n Then they went to the chieftains and sold them a bill of goods (with a\n generous bribe of sugar) to close the borders. The next step was to\n corrupt the border guards, which was easy with Annie Oakleys to do\n the burlesque shows.\n\n\n The selling price for faked passports fluctuates between a ton and\n three tons of platinum.\nVICE\n: Until the arrival of the Earthmen, there were no illicit\n sexual relations on the planet. In fact, no Martian in his right mind\n would have relations with the native crop of females, and they in turn\n felt the same way about the males. Laws had to be passed requiring all\n able-bodied citizens to marry and propagate.\n\n\n Thus, the first load of bims from South Akard Street in Dallas found\n eager customers. But these babes, who romanced anything in pants on\n earth, went on a stand-up strike when they saw and smelled the\n Martians. Especially smelled. They smelled worse than Texas yahoos\n just off a cow farm.\n\n\n This proved embarrassing, to say the least, to the procurers.\n Considerable sums of money were invested in this human cargo, and the\n boys feared dire consequences from their shylocks, should they return\n empty-handed.\n\n\n In our other Confidential essays we told you how the Mafia employs\n some of the best brains on Earth to direct and manage its far-flung\n properties, including high-priced attorneys, accountants, real-estate\n experts, engineers and scientists.\n\n\n A hurried meeting of the Grand Council was called and held in a\n bungalow on the shores of one of Minneapolis' beautiful lakes. The\n decision reached there was to corner chlorophyll (which accounts in\n part for the delay in putting it on the market down here) and ship it\n to Mars to deodorize the populace there. After which the ladies of the\n evening got off their feet and went back to work.\nGAMBLING\n: Until the arrival of the Mafia, gambling on Mars was\n confined to a simple game played with children's jacks. The loser had\n to relieve the winner of his wife.\n\n\n The Mafia brought up some fine gambling equipment, including the\n layouts from the Colonial Inn in Florida, and the Beverly in New\n Orleans, both of which were closed, and taught the residents how to\n shoot craps and play the wheel, with the house putting up sugar\n against precious stones and metals. With such odds, it was not\n necessary to fake the games more than is customary on Earth.\nIV\nLITTLE NEW YORK CONFIDENTIAL\nDespite what Earth-bound professors tell you about the Martian\n atmosphere, we know better. They weren't there.\n\n\n It is a dogma that Mars has no oxygen. Baloney. While it is true that\n there is considerably less than on Earth in the surface atmosphere,\n the air underground, in caves, valleys and tunnels, has plenty to\n support life lavishly, though why Martians want to live after they\n look at each other we cannot tell you, even confidential.\n\n\n For this reason Martian cities are built underground, and travel\n between them is carried on through a complicated system of subways\n predating the New York IRT line by several thousand centuries, though\n to the naked eye there is little difference between a Brooklyn express\n and a Mars express, yet the latter were built before the Pyramids.\n\n\n When the first load of Black Handers arrived, they naturally balked\n against living underground. It reminded them too much of the days\n before they went \"legitimate\" and were constantly on the lam and\n hiding out.\n\n\n So the Mafia put the Martians to work building a town. There are no\n building materials on the planet, but the Martians are adept at making\n gold dust hold together with diamond rivets. The result of their\n effort—for which they were paid in peppermint sticks and lump\n sugar—is named Little New York, with hotels, nightclubs, bars,\n haberdashers, Turkish baths and horse rooms. Instead of\n air-conditioning, it had oxygen-conditioning. But the town had no\n police station.\n\n\n There were no cops!\n\n\n Finally, a meeting was held at which one punk asked another, \"What the\n hell kind of town is it with no cops? Who we going to bribe?\"\n\n\n After some discussion they cut cards. One of the Bergen County boys\n drew the black ace. \"What do I know about being a cop?\" he squawked.\n\n\n \"You can take graft, can't you? You been shook down, ain't you?\"\nThe boys also imported a couple of smart mouthpieces and a ship of\n blank habeas corpus forms, together with a judge who was the brother\n of one of the lawyers, so there was no need to build a jail in this\n model city.\n\n\n The only ones who ever get arrested, anyway, are the Martians, and\n they soon discovered that the coppers from\nTerra\nwould look the\n other way for a bucket full of gold.\n\n\n Until the arrival of the Earthmen, the Martians were, as stated,\n peaceful, and even now crime is practically unknown among them. The\n chief problem, however, is to keep them in line on pay nights, when\n they go on sugar binges.\n\n\n Chocolate bars are as common on Mars as saloons are on Broadway, and\n it is not unusual to see \"gone\" Martians getting heaved out of these\n bars right into the gutter. One nostalgic hood from Seattle said it\n reminded him of Skid Row there.\nV\nTHE RED RED PLANET\nThe gangsters had not been on Mars long before they heard rumors about\n other outsiders who were supposed to have landed on the other side of\nMt. Sirehum\n.\n\n\n The boys got together in a cocktail lounge to talk this over, and they\n decided they weren't going to stand for any other mobs muscling in.\n\n\n Thereupon, they despatched four torpedoes with Tommy guns in a big\n black limousine to see what was going.\n\n\n We tell you this Confidential. What they found was a Communist\n apparatus sent to Mars from Soviet Russia.\n\n\n This cell was so active that Commies had taken over almost half the\n planet before the arrival of the Mafia, with their domain extending\n from the\nDeucalionis Region\nall the way over to\nPhaethontis\nand\n down to\nTitania\n.\n\n\n Furthermore, through propaganda and infiltration, there were Communist\n cells in every quarter of the planet, and many of the top officials of\n the four Martian governments were either secretly party members or\n openly in fronts.\n\n\n The Communist battle cry was: \"Men of Mars unite; you have nothing to\n lose but your wives.\"\n\n\n Comes the revolution, they were told, and all Martians could remain\n bachelors. It is no wonder the Communists made such inroads. The\n planet became known as \"The Red Red Planet.\"\n\n\n In their confidential books about the cities of Earth, Lait and\n Mortimer explored the community of interest between the organized\n underworld and the Soviet.\n\n\n Communists are in favor of anything that causes civil disorder and\n unrest; gangsters have no conscience and will do business with anyone\n who pays.\n\n\n On Earth, Russia floods the Western powers, and especially the United\n States, with narcotics, first to weaken them and provide easy prey,\n and second, for dollar exchange.\n\n\n And on Earth, the Mafia, which is another international conspiracy\n like the Communists, sells the narcotics.\n\n\n And so when the gangsters heard there were Communist cells on Mars,\n they quickly made a contact.\n\n\n For most of the world's cheap sugar comes from Russia! The Mafia\n inroad on the American sugar market had already driven cane up more\n than 300 per cent. But the Russians were anxious, able and willing to\n provide all the beets they wanted at half the competitive price.\nVI\nTHE HONEST HOODS\nAs we pointed out in previous works, the crime syndicate now owns so\n much money, its chief problem is to find ways in which to invest it.\n\n\n As a result, the Mafia and its allies control thousands of legitimate\n enterprises ranging from hotel chains to railroads and from laundries\n to distilleries.\n\n\n And so it was on Mars. With all the rackets cornered, the gangsters\n decided it was time to go into some straight businesses.\n\n\n At the next get-together of the Grand Council, the following\n conversation was heard:\n\n\n \"What do these mopes need that they ain't getting?\"\n\n\n \"A big fat hole in the head.\"\n\n\n \"Cut it out. This is serious.\"\n\n\n \"A hole in the head ain't serious?\"\n\n\n \"There's no profit in them one-shot deals.\"\n\n\n \"It's the repeat business you make the dough on.\"\n\n\n \"Maybe you got something there. You can kill a jerk only once.\"\n\n\n \"But a jerk can have relatives.\"\n\n\n \"We're talking about legit stuff. All the rest has been taken care\n of.\"\n\n\n \"With the Martians I've seen, a bar of soap could be a big thing.\"\n\n\n From this random suggestion, there sprang up a major interplanetary\n project. If the big soap companies are wondering where all that soap\n went a few years ago, we can tell them.\n\n\n It went to Mars.\n\n\n Soap caught on immediately. It was snapped up as fast as it arrived.\n\n\n But several questions popped into the minds of the Mafia soap\n salesman.\n\n\n Where was it all going? A Martian, in line for a bar in the evening,\n was back again the following morning for another one.\n\n\n And why did the Martians stay just as dirty as ever?\n\n\n The answer was, the Martians stayed as dirty as ever because they\n weren't using the soap to wash with. They were eating it!\n\n\n It cured the hangover from sugar.\n\n\n Another group cornered the undertaking business, adding a twist that\n made for more activity. They added a Department of Elimination. The\n men in charge of this end of the business circulate through the\n chocolate and soap bars, politely inquiring, \"Who would you like\n killed?\"\n\n\n Struck with the novelty of the thing, quite a few Martians remember\n other Martians they are mad at. The going price is one hundred carats\n of diamonds to kill; which is cheap considering the average laborer\n earns 10,000 carats a week.\n\n\n Then the boys from the more dignified end of the business drop in at\n the home of the victim and offer to bury him cheap. Two hundred and\n fifty carats gets a Martian planted in style.\n\n\n Inasmuch as Martians live underground, burying is done in reverse, by\n tying a rocket to the tail of the deceased and shooting him out into\n the stratosphere.\nVII\nONE UNIVERSE CONFIDENTIAL\nMars is presently no problem to Earth, and will not be until we have\n all its gold and the Martians begin asking us for loans.\n\n\n Meanwhile, Lait and Mortimer say let the gangsters and communists have\n it. We don't want it.\n\n\n We believe Earth would weaken itself if it dissipated its assets on\n foreign planets. Instead, we should heavily arm our own satellites,\n which will make us secure from attack by an alien planet or\n constellation.\n\n\n At the same time, we should build an overwhelming force of space ships\n capable of delivering lethal blows to the outermost corners of the\n universe and return without refueling.\n\n\n We have seen the futility of meddling in everyone's business on Earth.\n Let's not make that mistake in space. We are unalterably opposed to\n the UP (United Planets) and call upon the governments of Earth not to\n join that Inter-Solar System boondoggle.\n\n\n We have enough trouble right here.\nTHE APPENDIX CONFIDENTIAL:\nBlast-off\n: The equivalent of the take-off of Terran\n aviation. Space ships blast-off into space. Not to be\n confused with the report of a sawed-off shot gun.\nBlasting pit\n: Place from which a space ship blasts off.\n Guarded area where the intense heat from the jets melts the\n ground. Also used for cock-fights.\nSpacemen\n: Those who man the space ships. See any comic\n strip.\nHairoscope\n: A very sensitive instrument for space\n navigation. The sighting plate thereon is centered around\n two crossed hairs. Because of the vastness of space, very\n fine hairs are used. These hairs are obtained from the\n Glomph-Frog, found only in the heart of the dense Venusian\n swamps. The hairoscope is a must in space navigation. Then\n how did they get to Venus to get the hair from the\n Glomph-Frog? Read Venus Confidential.\nMultiplanetary agitation\n: The inter-spacial methods by\n which the Russians compete for the minds of the Neptunians\n and the Plutonians and the Gowaniuns.\nSpace suit\n: The clothing worn by those who go into space.\n The men are put into modernistic diving suits. The dames\n wear bras and panties.\nGrav-plates\n: A form of magnetic shoe worn by spacemen\n while standing on the outer hull of a space ship halfway to\n Mars. Why a spaceman wants to stand on the outer hull of a\n ship halfway to Mars is not clear. Possibly to win a bet.\nSpace platform\n: A man-made satellite rotating around Earth\n between here and the Moon. Scientists say this is a\n necessary first step to interplanetary travel. Mars\n Confidential proves the fallacy of this theory.\nSpace Academy\n: A college where young men are trained to be\n spacemen. The student body consists mainly of cadets who\n served apprenticeships as elevator jockeys.\nAsteroids\n: Tiny worlds floating around in space, put there\n no doubt to annoy unwary space ships.\nExtrapolation\n: The process by which a science-fiction\n writer takes an established scientific fact and builds\n thereon a story that couldn't happen in a million years, but\n maybe 2,000,000.\nScience fiction\n: A genre of escape literature which takes\n the reader to far-away planets—and usually neglects to\n bring him back.\nS.F.\n: An abbreviation for science fiction.\nBem\n: A word derived by using the first letters of the\n three words: Bug Eyed Monster. Bems are ghastly looking\n creatures in general. In science-fiction yarns written by\n Terrans, bems are natives of Mars. In science-fiction yarns\n written by Martians, bems are natives of Terra.\nThe pile\n: The source from which power is derived to carry\n men to the stars. Optional on the more expensive space\n ships, at extra cost.\nAtom blaster\n: A gun carried by spacemen which will melt\n people down to a cinder. A .45 would do just as well, but\n then there's the Sullivan Act.\nOrbit\n: The path of any heavenly body. The bodies are held\n in these orbits by natural laws the Republicans are thinking\n of repealing.\nNova\n: The explosive stage into which planets may pass.\n According to the finest scientific thinking, a planet will\n either nova, or it won't.\nGalaxy\n: A term used to confuse people who have always\n called it The Milky Way.\nSun spots\n: Vast electrical storms on the sun which\n interfere with radio reception, said interference being\n advantageous during political campaigns.\nAtomic cannons\n: Things that go\nzap\n.\nAudio screen\n: Television without Milton Berle or\n wrestling.\nDisintegrating ray\n: Something you can't see that turns\n something you can see into something you can't see.\nGeiger counter\n: Something used to count Geigers.\nInterstellar space\n: Too much nothing at all, filled with\n rockets, flying saucers, advanced civilizations, and\n discarded copies of\nAmazing Stories\n.\nMars\n: A candy bar.\nPluto\n: A kind of water.\nRay guns\n: Small things that go\nzap\n.\nTime machine\n: A machine that carries you back to yesterday\n and into next year. Also, an alarm clock.\nTime warp\n: The hole in time the time machine goes through\n to reach another time. A hole in nothing.\nTerra\n: Another name for Earth. It comes from\nterra\nfirma\n or something like that.\nHyperdrive\n: The motor that is used to drive a space ship\n faster than the speed of light. Invented by science-fiction\n writers but not yet patented.\nEther\n: The upper reaches of space and whatever fills them.\n Also, an anaesthetic.\nLuna\n: Another name for the Moon. Formerly a park in Coney\n Island.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Once virtually unmarred, Mars turns into a veritable sess pool because", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_1", "options": ["humans corrupted Mars and the Martians in a way that mirrored what they had done to Earth and humankind.", "Martians began to partake in heavy opioid use, and the entire planet became one big \"Skid Row.\"", "when humans began to occupy the area, the atmosphere changed and started to deteriorate, making it disgusting.", "humans did not care about the way they treated the environment of the planet.  They came in and destroyed a once beautiful planet that now has no natural resources or habitats it once had."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What sort of commentary can be made about humans through the way they approached colonizing Mars?", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_2", "options": ["Humans truly do want to do their best to preserve the natural ways of the planet, and they did their best to ensure Martians didn't notice them.", "Humans are indifferent.  They neither care for or about the Martians.  Humans simply want to live their lives and be left alone.", "Humans want their way of life to continue no matter where they are, and they are just fine with forcing their beliefs upon whomever, including aliens.  ", "Humans are evil, and their only goal is total destruction."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The way that man ended up on Mars", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_3", "options": ["was a calculated plan made by the Martians in order to secure Earth's sugar stores.", "was almost by accident as they were attempting to find a suitable site for a completely different venture.", "is a commentary on how destructive man is.  They purposefully set out to corrupt the planet since no more damage could be done on Earth.", "is quite frightening.  Martians basically hijacked ships to bring humans to their planet in order to supply them with sugar."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is not true about the relationship between Martians and humans?", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_4", "options": ["Humans are happy to bring their women to Mars as another manipulation tactic against the race.", "Martians find no value in the things humans do, such as gold and diamonds, making humans feel", "Humans are more interested in giving Martians sugar than they are in any other sort of drug.", "Martians value what humans bring to their planet, including teaching them new ways to do things like conduct business and build structures."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "The prostitutes from Earth will not go around the Martians even if they are paid because they smell so bad, so ", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_5", "options": ["they discover that if they eat soap, they do not smell as bad.", "they are told that they are to associate with them or else.  ", "the humans spray the Martians in order to neutralize the smell so that the earth women will do their jobs.", "they go back to Earth."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "The Mob", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_6", "options": ["decides that Mars is too backwards, and they leave after causing as much destruction there as possible.", "eventually turns Mars into an almost mirror of the way they run things on Earth.", "decides that the Communists must be stopped, so they try to kill them off one by one.", "tries to take Martians back to Earth in order to allow them to colonize."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The Martian women", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_7", "options": ["are repulsive even to the Martian men.", "want to emulate human women.", "live in their own colonies, and they do not interact with others.", "are very desirable to the Martian men, and they worry about their safety around the humans."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Until the arrival of humans, ", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_8", "options": ["Martians feared humans, but they now see that humans are just a silly race that doesn't care about anyone other than themselves.", "Martians had no idea what they were missing out on, and they really learned to live.", "Martians were a peaceful race.  Humans came to their planet and caused discourse.", "Martians didn't really believe that humans existed."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Martian weapons", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_9", "options": ["did not even leave a trace of a human once they fired on them.", "had no effect on humans.", "destroyed everything in their path.", "vaporized everything."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Humans end up corrupting Martians", "question_unique_id": "31282_BQYW9TCH_10", "options": ["by teaching them all about dirty politics.", "by giving them women and riches, exposing them to vices they never had before.", "with a chocolate bar initially.", "by teaching them gambling."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/1/2/8/31282//31282-h//31282-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "60897", "set_unique_id": "60897_628POLKP", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Non-Electronic Bug", "year": 1968, "author": "Mittleman, E.", "topic": "Short stories; Science fiction; Parapsychology -- Fiction; Telepathy -- Fiction; PS; Cardsharping -- Fiction; Gambling -- Fiction", "article": "THE NON-ELECTRONIC BUG\nBy E. MITTLEMAN\nThere couldn't be a better\n \ntip-off system than mine—it\n \nwasn't possible—but he had one!\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, July 1960.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nI wouldn't take five cents off a legitimate man, but if they want to\n gamble that's another story.\n\n\n What I am is a genius, and I give you a piece of advice: Do not ever\n play cards with a stranger. The stranger might be me. Where there are\n degenerate card players around, I sometimes get a call. Not dice—I\n don't have a machine to handle them. But with cards I have a machine to\n force the advantage.\n\n\n The first thing is a little radio receiver, about the size of a pack\n of cigarettes. You don't hear any music. You feel it on your skin. The\n next thing is two dimes. You stick them onto you, anywhere you like.\n Some like to put them on their legs, some on their belly. Makes no\n difference, just so they're out of sight. Each dime has a wire soldered\n to it, and the wires are attached to the little receiver that goes in\n your pocket.\n\n\n The other thing is the transmitter I carry around.\n\n\n My partner was a fellow named Henry. He had an electronic surplus\n hardware business, but business wasn't good and he was looking for\n a little extra cash on the side. It turns out that the other little\n wholesalers in the loft building where he has his business are all\n card players, and no pikers, either. So Henry spread the word that\n he was available for a gin game—any time at all, but he would only\n play in his own place—he was expecting an important phone call and he\n didn't want to be away and maybe miss it.... It never came; but the\n card players did.\n\n\n I was supposed to be his stock clerk. While Henry and the other fellow\n were working on the cards at one end of the room, I would be moving\n around the other—checking the stock, packing the stuff for shipment,\n arranging it on the shelves, sweeping the floor. I was a regular model\n worker, busy every second. I had to be. In order to see the man's\n hand I had to be nearby, but I had to keep moving so he wouldn't pay\n attention to me.\n\n\n And every time I got a look at his hand, I pushed the little button on\n the transmitter in my pocket.\n\n\n Every push on the button was a shock on Henry's leg. One for spades,\n two for hearts, three for diamonds, four for clubs.\n\n\n Then I would tip the card: a short shock for an ace, two for a king,\n three for a queen, and so on down to the ten. A long and a short\n for nine, a long and two shorts for an eight ... it took a little\n memorizing, but it was worth it. Henry knew every card the other man\n held every time. And I got fifty per cent.\nWe didn't annihilate the fish. They hardly felt they were being hurt,\n but we got a steady advantage, day after day. We did so well we took on\n another man—I can take physical labor or leave it alone, and I leave\n it alone every chance I get.\n\n\n That was where we first felt the trouble.\n\n\n Our new boy was around twenty. He had a swept-wing haircut, complete\n with tail fins. Also he had a silly laugh. Now, there are jokes in a\n card game—somebody taking a beating will sound off, to take away some\n of the sting, but nobody laughs because the cracks are never funny. But\n they were to our new boy.\n\n\n He laughed.\n\n\n He laughed not only when the mark made some crack, but a lot of the\n time when he didn't. It got so the customers were looking at him with a\n lot of dislike, and that was bad for business.\n\n\n So I called him out into the hall. \"Skippy,\" I said—that's what we\n called him, \"lay off.\nNever\nrub it in to a sucker. It's enough to\n take his money.\"\n\n\n He ran his fingers back along his hair. \"Can't a fellow express\n himself?\"\n\n\n I gave him a long, hard unhealthy look.\nExpress\nhimself? He wouldn't\n have to. I'd express him myself—express him right out of our setup.\n\n\n But before I got a chance, this fellow from Chicago came in, a big\n manufacturer named Chapo; a wheel, and he looked it. He was red-faced,\n with hanging jowls and a big dollar cigar; he announced that he only\n played for big stakes ... and, nodding toward the kid and me, that he\n didn't like an audience.\n\n\n Henry looked at us miserably. But what was he going to do? If he didn't\n go along, the word could spread that maybe there was something wrong\n going on. He had to play. \"Take the day off, you two,\" he said, but he\n wasn't happy.\n\n\n I thought fast.\n\n\n There was still one chance. I got behind Chapo long enough to give\n Henry a wink and a nod toward the window. Then I took Skippy by the\n elbow and steered him out of there.\n\n\n Down in the street I said, fast: \"You want to earn your pay? You have\n to give me a hand—an eye is really what I mean. Don't argue—just say\n yes or no.\"\n\n\n He didn't stop to think. \"Sure,\" he said. \"Why not?\"\n\n\n \"All right.\" I took him down the street to where they had genuine\n imported Japanese field glasses and laid out twenty bucks for a pair.\n The man was a thief, but I didn't have time to argue. Right across the\n street from Henry's place was a rundown hotel. That was our next stop.\n\n\n The desk man in the scratch house looked up from his comic book. \"A\n room,\" I said. \"Me and my nephew want a room facing the street.\" And I\n pointed to the window of Henry's place, where I wanted it to face.\n\n\n Because we still had a chance. With the field glasses and Skippy's\n young, good eyes to look through them, with the transmitter that would\n carry an extra hundred yards easy enough—with everything going for us,\n we had a chance. Provided Henry had been able to maneuver Chapo so his\n back was to the window.\n\n\n The bed merchant gave us a long stall about how the only room we wanted\n belonged to a sweet old lady that was sick and couldn't be moved. But\n for ten bucks she could be.\n\n\n All the time I was wondering how many hands were being played, if we\n were stuck money and how much—all kinds of things. But finally we\n got into the room and I laid it out for Skippy. \"You aim those field\n glasses out the window,\" I told him. \"Read Chapo's cards and let me\n know; that's all. I'll take care of the rest.\"\n\n\n I'll say this for him, duck-tail haircut and all, he settled right\n down to business. I made myself comfortable on the bed and rattled them\n off on the transmitter as he read the cards to me. I couldn't see the\n players, didn't know the score; but if he was giving the cards to me\n right, I was getting them out to Henry.\nI felt pretty good. I even began to feel kindly toward the kid. At my\n age, bifocals are standard equipment, but to judge from Skippy's fast,\n sure call of the cards, his eyesight was twenty-twenty or better.\n\n\n After about an hour, Skippy put down the glasses and broke the news:\n the game was over.\n\n\n We took our time getting back to Henry's place, so Chapo would have\n time to clear out. Henry greeted us with eight fingers in the air.\n\n\n Eight hundred? But before I could ask him, he was already talking:\n \"Eight big ones! Eight thousand bucks! And how you did it, I'll never\n know!\"\n\n\n Well, eight thousand was good news, no doubt of that. I said, \"That's\n the old system, Henry. But we couldn't have done it if you hadn't\n steered the fish up to the window.\" And I showed him the Japanese field\n glasses, grinning.\n\n\n But he didn't grin back. He looked puzzled. He glanced toward the\n window.\n\n\n I looked too, and then I saw what he was puzzled about. It was pretty\n obvious that Henry had missed my signal. He and the fish had played by\n the window, all right.\n\n\n But the shade was down.\nWhen I turned around to look for Skippy, to ask him some questions, he\n was gone. Evidently he didn't want to answer.\n\n\n I beat up and down every block in the neighborhood until I spotted him\n in a beanery, drinking a cup of coffee and looking worried.\n\n\n I sat down beside him, quiet. He didn't look around. The counterman\n opened his mouth to say hello. I shook my head, but Skippy said,\n \"That's all right. I know you're there.\"\n\n\n I blinked. This was a creep! But I had to find out what was going on. I\n said, \"You made a mistake, kid.\"\n\n\n \"Running out?\" He shrugged. \"It's not the first mistake I made,\" he\n said bitterly. \"Getting into your little setup with the bugged game\n came before that.\"\n\n\n I said, \"You can always quit,\" but then stopped. Because it was a lie.\n He couldn't quit—not until I found out how he read Chapo's cards\n through a drawn shade.\n\n\n He said drearily, \"You've all got me marked lousy, haven't you? Don't\n kid me about Henry—I know. I'm not so sure about you, but it wouldn't\n surprise me.\"\n\n\n \"What are you talking about?\"\n\n\n \"I can hear every word that's on Henry's mind,\" he said somberly.\n \"You, no. Some people I can hear, some I can't; you're one I can't.\"\n\n\n \"What kind of goofy talk is that?\" I demanded. But, to tell you the\n truth, I didn't think it was so goofy. The window shade was a lot\n goofier.\n\n\n \"All my life,\" said Skippy, \"I've been hearing the voices. It doesn't\n matter if they talk out loud or not. Most people I can hear, even when\n they don't want me to. Field glasses? I didn't need field glasses. I\n could hear every thought that went through Chapo's mind, clear across\n the street. Henry too. That's how I know.\" He hesitated, looking at me.\n \"You think Henry took eight thousand off Chapo, don't you? It was ten.\"\n\n\n I said, \"Prove it.\"\n\n\n The kid finished his coffee. \"Well,\" he said, \"you want to know what\n the counterman's got on his mind?\" He leaned over and whispered to me.\n\n\n I yelled, \"That's a lousy thing to say!\"\n\n\n Everybody was looking at us. He said softly, \"You see what it's like? I\n don't want to hear all this stuff! You think the counterman's got a bad\n mind, you ought to listen in on Henry's.\" He looked along the stools.\n \"See that fat little woman down at the end? She's going to order\n another cheese Danish.\"\n\n\n He hadn't even finished talking when the woman was calling the\n counterman, and she got another cheese Danish. I thought it over. What\n he said about Henry holding out on me made it real serious. I had to\n have more proof.\n\n\n But I didn't like Skippy's idea of proof. He offered to call off what\n everybody in the beanery was going to do next, barring three or four he\n said were silent, like me. That wasn't good enough. \"Come along with\n me,\" I told him, and we took off for Jake's spot.\n\n\n That's a twenty-four-hour place and the doorman knows me. I knew Jake\n and I knew his roulette wheel was gaffed. I walked right up to the\n wheel, and whispered to the kid, \"Can you read the dealer?\" He smiled\n and nodded. \"All right. Call black or red.\"\n\n\n The wheel spun, but that didn't stop the betting. Jake's hungry. In\n his place you can still bet for a few seconds after the wheel starts\n turning.\n\n\n \"Black,\" Skippy said.\n\n\n I threw down fifty bucks. Black it was.\n\n\n That rattled me.\n\n\n \"Call again,\" I said.\n\n\n When Skippy said black, I put the fifty on red. Black won it.\n\n\n \"Let's go,\" I said, and led the kid out of there.\n\n\n He was looking puzzled. \"How come—\"\n\n\n \"How come I played to lose?\" I patted his shoulder. \"Sonny, you got a\n lot to learn. Jake's is no fair game. This was only a dry run.\"\n\n\n Then I got rid of him, because I had something to do.\nHenry came across. He even looked embarrassed. \"I figured,\" he said,\n \"uh, I figured that the expenses—\"\n\n\n \"Save it,\" I told him. \"All I want is my split.\"\n\n\n He handed it over, but I kept my hand out, waiting. After a minute he\n got the idea. He reached down inside the waistband of his pants, pulled\n loose the tape that held the dimes to his skin and handed over the\n radio receiver. \"That's it, huh?\" he said.\n\n\n \"That's it.\"\n\n\n \"Take your best shot,\" he said glumly. \"But mark my words. You're not\n going to make out on your own.\"\n\n\n \"I won't be on my own,\" I told him, and left him then. By myself? Not\n a chance! It was going to be Skippy and me, all the way. Not only\n could he read minds, but the capper was that he couldn't read mine!\n Otherwise, you can understand, I might not want him around all the time.\n\n\n But this way I had my own personal bug in every game in town, and I\n didn't even have to spend for batteries. Card games, gaffed wheels,\n everything. Down at the track he could follow the smart-money guys\n around and let me know what they knew, which was plenty. We could even\n go up against the legit games in Nevada, with no worry about bluffs.\n\n\n And think of the fringe benefits! With Skippy giving the women a\n preliminary screening, I could save a lot of wasted time. At my age,\n time is nothing to be wasted.\n\n\n I could understand a lot about Skippy now—why he didn't like most\n people, why he laughed at jokes nobody else thought were funny, or even\n could hear. But everybody has got to like somebody, and I had the edge\n over most of the human race. He didn't know what I was thinking.\n\n\n And then, take away the voices in his head, and Skippy didn't have much\n left. He wasn't very smart. If he had half as much in the way of brains\n as he did in the way of private radar, he would have figured all these\n angles out for himself long ago. No, he needed me. And I needed him.\n We were all set to make a big score together, so I went back to his\n rooming house where I'd told him to wait, to get going on the big time.\n\n\n However, Henry had more brains than Skippy.\n\n\n I hadn't told Henry who tipped me off, but it didn't take him long to\n work out. After all, I had told him I was going out to look for Skippy,\n and I came right back and called him for holding out. No, it didn't\n take much brains. All he had to do was come around to Skippy's place\n and give him a little lesson about talking.\n\n\n So when I walked in the door, Skippy was there, but he was out cold,\n with lumps on his forehead and a stupid grin on his face. I woke him up\n and he recognized me.\n\n\n But you don't make your TV set play better by kicking it. You don't\n help a fine Swiss watch by pounding it on an anvil. Skippy could walk\n and talk all right, but something was missing. \"The voices!\" he yelled,\n sitting up on the edge of the bed.\n\n\n I got a quick attack of cold fear. \"Skippy! What's the matter? Don't\n you hear them any more?\"\n\n\n He looked at me in a panic. \"Oh, I hear them all right. But they're all\n different now. I mean—it isn't English any more. In fact, it isn't any\n language at all!\"\nLike I say, I'm a genius. Skippy wouldn't lie to me; he's not smart\n enough. If he says he hears voices, he hears voices.\n\n\n Being a genius, my theory is that when Henry worked Skippy over, he\n jarred his tuning strips, or whatever it is, so now Skippy's receiving\n on another frequency. Make sense? I'm positive about it. He sticks to\n the same story, telling me about what he's hearing inside his head, and\n he's too stupid to make it all up.\n\n\n There are some parts of it I don't have all figured out yet, but I'll\n get them. Like what he tells me about the people—I\nguess\nthey're\n people—whose voices he hears. They're skinny and furry and very\n religious. He can't understand their language, but he gets pictures\n from them, and he told me what he saw. They worship the Moon, he says.\n Only that's wrong too, because he says they worship two moons, and\n everybody knows there's only one. But I'll figure it out; I have to,\n because I have to get Skippy back in business.\n\n\n Meanwhile it's pretty lonesome. I spend a lot of time down around the\n old neighborhood, but I haven't set up another partner for taking the\n card players. That seems like pretty small stuff now. And I don't talk\n to Henry when I see him. And I\nnever\ngo in the beanery when that\n counterman is on duty. I've got enough troubles in the world; I don't\n have to add to them by associating with\nhis\nkind.\n", "questions": [{"question": "At the beginning of the story, the narrator states, \"what I am is a genius.\"  This statement", "question_unique_id": "60897_628POLKP_1", "options": ["Is ironic because there was nothing genius about how he handled the situation with the kid.", "is completely wrong because he allowed everyone to get over on him in the end.", "Proves to be true because of the schemes he comes up with.", "Proves to be true because he knows how to read people and knows who to trust."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How do the narrator and Henry continue their scam without getting caught?", "question_unique_id": "60897_628POLKP_2", "options": ["They weren't too greedy, so the other players didn't suspect anything.", "They knew how to outsmart the people whom they played with.", "They are not very good at it, so there's really not much to suspect.", "The kid uses his powers to keep the others from suspecting them."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The narrator's false sense of superiority", "question_unique_id": "60897_628POLKP_3", "options": ["leads him to believe that he was the mastermind behind the victory over the high roller, but the kid actually was the one who saved the day.", "almost got them killed when the big roller came to play.", "turns out to be a huge joke at his expense because they are all exposed.", "actually comes in handy because he comes up with a great plan to use when the high roller comes in."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The final blow to the narrator's ego comes ", "question_unique_id": "60897_628POLKP_4", "options": ["when the kid outsmarts him.", "when he is exposed by Jake at the blackjack table.", "when the high roller catches him.", "when Henry outsmarts him."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who ends up being the narrator's worst enemy and why?", "question_unique_id": "60897_628POLKP_5", "options": ["The high roller is his worst enemy because he exposes their scam.", "He is his own worst enemy because he talks too much.", "Henry is his worst enemy because he lies to the narrator.", "Skippy is his worst enemy because he has no loyalty to anyone, especially those he cannot hear."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "The narrator should have caught on that there was something special about Skippy when", "question_unique_id": "60897_628POLKP_6", "options": ["Skippy was brought in on the scam.  No one that young should have been able to adapt to that situation so quickly.", "Skippy laughed at things that were not deemed appropriate at the time, and he was unapologetic about it.", "the narrator thinks that the kid must have better than 20/20 vision.  ", "there was no time there were hints about Skippy being special.  The narrator was given no warning."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why does the narrator feel that Skippy will be the perfect partner for him?", "question_unique_id": "60897_628POLKP_7", "options": ["Skippy can hear almost everyone's thoughts, which will be a great advantage for the narrator, but he cannot hear the narrator's thoughts, giving him a sense of security.", "Skippy is not bright, and he will always just do as he is told.", "Skippy has been trained by the narrator, and he has already displayed his loyalty, so the narrator knows that he will be the perfect partner.", "Skippy can hear the thoughts of everyone around him, and he will always be able to beat everyone, and he will always know what everyone is thinking because Skippy will relay the message."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "The ultimate betrayal from Henry", "question_unique_id": "60897_628POLKP_8", "options": ["comes when he does not come clean about the true amount of money won that night.", "is when he tells the narrator that Skippy will be his new partner, leaving the narrator to fend for himself.  ", "comes when Henry beats the narrator to Skippy.", "never comes because Henry gives the narrator what is owed him, and the narrator forgives him for lying."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/0/8/9/60897//60897-h//60897-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. 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{"article_id": "31599", "set_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "To Remember Charlie By", "year": 1959, "author": "Aycock, Roger D.", "topic": "Children with disabilities -- Fiction; PS; Short stories; Science fiction; Parapsychology -- Fiction; Florida -- Fiction", "article": "Transcriber's Note:\nThis etext was produced from Fantastic Universe March 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.\n\n\n\n\n\nThe history of this materialistic world is highlighted with\n strange events that scientists and historians, unable to explain\n logically, have dismissed with such labels as \"supernatural,\"\n \"miracle,\" etc. But there are those among us whose simple faith\n can—and often does—alter the scheme of the universe. Even a little\n child can do it....\nto remember charlie by\nby ... Roger Dee\nJust a one-eyed dog named Charlie and a crippled boy named\n Joey—but between them they changed the face of the universe\n ... perhaps.\nInearly stumbled over the kid in the dark before I saw him.\n\n\n His wheelchair was parked as usual on the tired strip of carpet grass\n that separated his mother's trailer from the one Doc Shull and I lived\n in, but it wasn't exactly where I'd learned to expect it when I rolled\n in at night from the fishing boats. Usually it was nearer the west end\n of the strip where Joey could look across the crushed-shell square of\n the Twin Palms trailer court and the palmetto flats to the Tampa\n highway beyond. But this time it was pushed back into the shadows away\n from the court lights.\n\n\n The boy wasn't watching the flats tonight, as he usually did. Instead\n he was lying back in his chair with his face turned to the sky,\n staring upward with such absorbed intensity that he didn't even know I\n was there until I spoke.\n\n\n \"Anything wrong, Joey?\" I asked.\n\n\n He said, \"No, Roy,\" without taking his eyes off the sky.\n\n\n For a minute I had the prickly feeling you get when you are watching a\n movie and find that you know just what is going to happen next.\n You're puzzled and a little spooked until you realize that the reason\n you can predict the action so exactly is because you've seen the same\n thing happen somewhere else a long time ago. I forgot the feeling when\n I remembered why the kid wasn't watching the palmetto flats. But I\n couldn't help wondering why he'd turned to watching the sky instead.\n\n\n \"What're you looking for up there, Joey?\" I asked.\n\n\n He didn't move and from the tone of his voice I got the impression\n that he only half heard me.\n\n\n \"I'm moving some stars,\" he said softly.\n\n\n I gave it up and went on to my own trailer without asking any more\n fool questions. How can you talk to a kid like that?\n\n\n Doc Shull wasn't in, but for once I didn't worry about him. I was\n trying to remember just what it was about my stumbling over Joey's\n wheelchair that had given me that screwy double-exposure feeling of\n familiarity. I got a can of beer out of the ice-box because I think\n better with something cold in my hand, and by the time I had finished\n the beer I had my answer.\n\n\n The business I'd gone through with Joey outside was familiar because\n it\nhad\nhappened before, about six weeks back when Doc and I first\n parked our trailer at the Twin Palms court. I'd nearly stumbled over\n Joey that time too, but he wasn't moving stars then. He was just\n staring ahead of him, waiting.\n\n\n He'd been sitting in his wheelchair at the west end of the\n carpet-grass strip, staring out over the palmetto flats toward the\n highway. He was practically holding his breath, as if he was waiting\n for somebody special to show up, so absorbed in his watching that he\n didn't know I was there until I spoke. He reminded me a little of a\n ventriloquist's dummy with his skinny, knob-kneed body, thin face and\n round, still eyes. Only there wasn't anything comical about him the\n way there is about a dummy. Maybe that's why I spoke, because he\n looked so deadly serious.\n\n\n \"Anything wrong, kid?\" I asked.\n\n\n He didn't jump or look up. His voice placed him as a cracker, either\n south Georgian or native Floridian.\n\n\n \"I'm waiting for Charlie to come home,\" he said, keeping his eyes on\n the highway.\n\n\n Probably I'd have asked who Charlie was but just then the trailer door\n opened behind him and his mother took over.\n\n\n I couldn't see her too well because the lights were off inside the\n trailer. But I could tell from the way she filled up the doorway that\n she was big. I could make out the white blur of a cigarette in her\n mouth, and when she struck a match to light it—on her thumb-nail,\n like a man—I saw that she was fairly young and not bad-looking in a\n tough, sullen sort of way. The wind was blowing in my direction and it\n told me she'd had a drink recently, gin, by the smell of it.\n\n\n \"This is none of your business, mister,\" she said. Her voice was\n Southern like the boy's but with all the softness ground out of it\n from living on the Florida coast where you hear a hundred different\n accents every day. \"Let the boy alone.\"\n\n\n She was right about it being none of my business. I went on into the\n trailer I shared with Doc Shull and left the two of them waiting for\n Charlie together.\n\n\n Our trailer was dark inside, which meant first that Doc had probably\n gone out looking for a drink as soon as I left that morning to pick up\n a job, and second that he'd probably got too tight to find his way\n back. But I was wrong on at least one count, because when I switched\n on the light and dumped the packages I'd brought on the sink cabinet I\n saw Doc asleep in his bunk.\n\n\n He'd had a drink, though. I could smell it on him when I shook him\n awake, and it smelled like gin.\n\n\n Doc sat up and blinked against the light, a thin, elderly little man\n with bright blue eyes, a clipped brown mustache and scanty brown hair\n tousled and wild from sleep. He was stripped to his shorts against the\n heat, but at some time during the day he had bathed and shaved. He had\n even washed and ironed a shirt; it hung on a nail over his bunk with a\n crumpled pack of cigarettes in the pocket.\n\n\n \"Crawl out and cook supper, Rip,\" I said, holding him to his end of\n our working agreement. \"I've made a day and I'm hungry.\"\n\n\n Doc got up and stepped into his pants. He padded barefoot across the\n linoleum and poked at the packages on the sink cabinet.\n\n\n \"Snapper steak again,\" he complained. \"Roy, I'm sick of fish!\"\n\n\n \"You don't catch sirloins with a hand-line,\" I told him. And because\n I'd never been able to stay sore at him for long I added, \"But we got\n beer. Where's the opener?\"\n\n\n \"I'm sick of beer, too,\" Doc said. \"I need a real drink.\"\n\n\n I sniffed the air, making a business of it. \"You've had one already.\n Where?\"\n\n\n He grinned at me then with the wise-to-himself-and-the-world grin that\n lit up his face like turning on a light inside and made him different\n from anybody else on earth.\n\n\n \"The largess of Providence,\" he said, \"is bestowed impartially upon\n sot and Samaritan. I helped the little fellow next door to the\n bathroom this afternoon while his mother was away at work, and my\n selflessness had its just reward.\"\n\n\n Sometimes it's hard to tell when Doc is kidding. He's an educated\n man—used to teach at some Northern college, he said once, and I never\n doubted it—and talks like one when he wants to. But Doc's no bum,\n though he's a semi-alcoholic and lets me support him like an invalid\n uncle, and he's keen enough to read my mind like a racing form.\n\n\n \"No, I didn't batter down the cupboard and help myself,\" he said. \"The\n lady—her name is Mrs. Ethel Pond—gave me the drink. Why else do you\n suppose I'd launder a shirt?\"\n\n\n That was like Doc. He hadn't touched her bottle though his insides\n were probably snarled up like barbed wire for the want of it. He'd\n shaved and pressed a shirt instead so he'd look decent enough to rate\n a shot of gin she'd offer him as a reward. It wasn't such a doubtful\n gamble at that, because Doc has a way with him when he bothers to use\n it; maybe that's why he bums around with me after the commercial\n fishing and migratory crop work, because he's used that charm too\n often in the wrong places.\n\n\n \"Good enough,\" I said and punctured a can of beer apiece for us while\n Doc put the snapper steaks to cook.\n\n\n He told me more about our neighbors while we killed the beer. The\n Ponds were permanent residents. The kid—his name was Joey and he was\n ten—was a polio case who hadn't walked for over a year, and his\n mother was a waitress at a roadside joint named the Sea Shell Diner.\n There wasn't any Mr. Pond. I guessed there never had been, which would\n explain why Ethel acted so tough and sullen.\n\n\n We were halfway through supper when I remembered something the kid had\n said.\n\n\n \"Who's Charlie?\" I asked.\n\n\n Doc frowned at his plate. \"The kid had a dog named Charlie, a big\n shaggy mutt with only one eye and no love for anybody but the boy. The\n dog isn't coming home. He was run down by a car on the highway while\n Joey was hospitalized with polio.\"\n\n\n \"Tough,\" I said, thinking of the kid sitting out there all day in his\n wheelchair, straining his eyes across the palmetto flats. \"You mean\n he's been waiting a\nyear\n?\"\n\n\n Doc nodded, seemed to lose interest in the Ponds, so I let the subject\n drop. We sat around after supper and polished off the rest of the\n beer. When we turned in around midnight I figured we wouldn't be\n staying long at the Twin Palms trailer court. It wasn't a very\n comfortable place.\n\n\n I was wrong there. It wasn't comfortable, but we stayed.\n\n\n I couldn't have said at first why we stuck, and if Doc could he didn't\n volunteer. Neither of us talked about it. We just went on living the\n way we were used to living, a few weeks here and a few there, all\n over the States.\n\n\n We'd hit the Florida west coast too late for the citrus season, so I\n went in for the fishing instead. I worked the fishing boats all the\n way from Tampa down to Fort Myers, not signing on with any of the\n commercial companies because I like to move quick when I get restless.\n I picked the independent deep-water snapper runs mostly, because the\n percentage is good there if you've got a strong back and tough hands.\n\n\n Snapper fishing isn't the sport it seems to the one-day tourists who\n flock along because the fee is cheap. You fish from a wide-beamed old\n scow, usually, with hand-lines instead of regular tackle, and you use\n multiple hooks that go down to the bottom where the big red ones are.\n There's no real thrill to it, as the one-day anglers find out quickly.\n A snapper puts up no more fight than a catfish and the biggest job is\n to haul out his dead weight once you've got him surfaced.\n\n\n Usually a pro like me sells his catch to the boat's owner or to some\n clumsy sport who wants his picture shot with a big one, and there's\n nearly always a jackpot—from a pool made up at the beginning of every\n run—for the man landing the biggest fish of the day. There's a knack\n to hooking the big ones, and when the jackpots were running good I\n only worked a day or so a week and spent the rest of the time lying\n around the trailer playing cribbage and drinking beer with Doc Shull.\n\n\n Usually it was the life of Riley, but somehow it wasn't enough in this\n place. We'd get about half-oiled and work up a promising argument\n about what was wrong with the world. Then, just when we'd got life\n looking its screwball funniest with our arguments one or the other of\n us would look out the window and see Joey Pond in his wheelchair,\n waiting for a one-eyed dog named Charlie to come trotting home across\n the palmetto flats. He was always there, day or night, until his\n mother came home from work and rolled him inside.\n\n\n It wasn't right or natural for a kid to wait like that for anything\n and it worried me. I even offered once to buy the kid another mutt but\n Ethel Pond told me quick to mind my own business. Doc explained that\n the kid didn't want another mutt because he had what Doc called a\n psychological block.\n\n\n \"Charlie was more than just a dog to him,\" Doc said. \"He was a sort of\n symbol because he offered the kid two things that no one else in the\n world could—security and independence. With Charlie keeping him\n company he felt secure, and he was independent of the kids who could\n run and play because he had Charlie to play with. If he took another\n dog now he'd be giving up more than Charlie. He'd be giving up\n everything that Charlie had meant to him, then there wouldn't be any\n point in living.\"\n\n\n I could see it when Doc put it that way. The dog had spent more time\n with Joey than Ethel had, and the kid felt as safe with him as he'd\n have been with a platoon of Marines. And Charlie, being a one-man dog,\n had depended on Joey for the affection he wouldn't take from anybody\n else. The dog needed Joey and Joey needed him. Together, they'd been a\n natural.\n\n\n At first I thought it was funny that Joey never complained or cried\n when Charlie didn't come home, but Doc explained that it was all a\n part of this psychological block business. If Joey cried he'd be\n admitting that Charlie was lost. So he waited and watched, secure in\n his belief that Charlie would return.\n\n\n The Ponds got used to Doc and me being around, but they never got what\n you'd call intimate. Joey would laugh at some of the droll things Doc\n said, but his eyes always went back to the palmetto flats and the\n highway, looking for Charlie. And he never let anything interfere with\n his routine.\n\n\n That routine started every morning when old man Cloehessey, the\n postman, pedaled his bicycle out from Twin Palms to leave a handful of\n mail for the trailer-court tenants. Cloehessey would always make it a\n point to ride back by way of the Pond trailer and Joey would stop him\n and ask if he's seen anything of a one-eyed dog on his route that day.\n\n\n Old Cloehessey would lean on his bike and take off his sun helmet and\n mop his bald scalp, scowling while he pretended to think.\n\n\n Then he'd say, \"Not today, Joey,\" or, \"Thought so yesterday, but this\n fellow had two eyes on him. 'Twasn't Charlie.\"\n\n\n Then he'd pedal away, shaking his head. Later on the handyman would\n come around to swap sanitary tanks under the trailers and Joey would\n ask him the same question. Once a month the power company sent out a\n man to read the electric meters and he was part of Joey's routine too.\n\n\n It was hard on Ethel. Sometimes the kid would dream at night that\n Charlie had come home and was scratching at the trailer ramp to be let\n in, and he'd wake Ethel and beg her to go out and see. When that\n happened Doc and I could hear Ethel talking to him, low and steady,\n until all hours of the morning, and when he finally went back to sleep\n we'd hear her open the cupboard and take out the gin bottle.\n\n\n But there came a night that was more than Ethel could take, a night\n that changed Joey's routine and a lot more with it. It left a mark\n you've seen yourself—everybody has that's got eyes to see—though\n you never knew what made it. Nobody ever knew that but Joey and Ethel\n Pond and Doc and me.\n\n\n Doc and I were turning in around midnight that night when the kid sang\n out next door. We heard Ethel get up and go to him, and we got up too\n and opened a beer because we knew neither of us would sleep any more\n till she got Joey quiet again. But this night was different. Ethel\n hadn't talked to the kid long when he yelled, \"Charlie!\nCharlie!\n\"\n and after that we heard both of them bawling.\n\n\n A little later Ethel came out into the moonlight and shut the trailer\n door behind her. She looked rumpled and beaten, her hair straggling\n damply on her shoulders and her eyes puffed and red from crying. The\n gin she'd had hadn't helped any either.\n\n\n She stood for a while without moving, then she looked up at the sky\n and said something I'm not likely to forget.\n\n\n \"Why couldn't You give the kid a break?\" she said, not railing or\n anything but loud enough for us to hear. \"You, up there—what's\n another lousy one-eyed mutt to You?\"\n\n\n Doc and I looked at each other in the half-dark of our own trailer.\n \"She's done it, Roy,\" Doc said.\n\n\n I knew what he meant and wished I didn't. Ethel had finally told the\n kid that Charlie wasn't coming back, not ever.\n\n\n That's why I was worried about Joey when I came home the next evening\n and found him watching the sky instead of the palmetto flats. It meant\n he'd given up waiting for Charlie. And the quiet way the kid spoke of\n moving the stars around worried me more, because it sounded outright\n crazy.\n\n\n Not that you could blame him for going off his head. It was tough\n enough to be pinned to a wheelchair without being able to wiggle so\n much as a toe. But to lose his dog in the bargain....\n\n\n I was on my third beer when Doc Shull rolled in with a big package\n under his arm. Doc was stone sober, which surprised me, and he was hot\n and tired from a shopping trip to Tampa, which surprised me more. It\n was when he ripped the paper off his package, though, that I thought\n he'd lost his mind.\n\n\n \"Books for Joey,\" Doc said. \"Ethel and I agreed this morning that the\n boy needs another interest to occupy his time now, and since he can't\n go to school I'm going to teach him here.\"\n\n\n He went on to explain that Ethel hadn't had the heart the night\n before, desperate as she was, to tell the kid the whole truth. She'd\n told him instead, quoting an imaginary customer at the Sea Shell\n Diner, that a tourist car with Michigan license plates had picked\n Charlie up on the highway and taken him away. It was a good enough\n story. Joey still didn't know that Charlie was dead, but his waiting\n was over because no dog could be expected to find his way home from\n Michigan.\n\n\n \"We've got to give the boy another interest,\" Doc said, putting away\n the books and puncturing another beer can. \"Joey has a remarkable\n talent for concentration—most handicapped children have—that could\n be the end of him if it isn't diverted into safe channels.\"\n\n\n I thought the kid had cracked up already and said so.\n\n\n \"Moving\nstars\n?\" Doc said when I told him. \"Good Lord, Roy—\"\nEthel Pond knocked just then, interrupting him. She came in and had a\n beer with us and talked to Doc about his plan for educating Joey at\n home. But she couldn't tell us anything more about the kid's new\n fixation than we already knew. When she asked him why he stared up at\n the sky like that he'd say only that he wants something to remember\n Charlie by.\n\n\n It was about nine o'clock, when Ethel went home to cook supper. Doc\n and I knocked off our cribbage game and went outside with our folding\n chairs to get some air. It was then that the first star moved.\n\n\n It moved all of a sudden, the way any shooting star does, and shot\n across the sky in a curving, blue-white streak of fire. I didn't pay\n much attention, but Doc nearly choked on his beer.\n\n\n \"Roy,\" he said, \"that was Sirius!\nIt moved!\n\"\n\n\n I didn't see anything serious about it and said so. You can see a\n dozen or so stars zip across the sky on any clear night if you're in\n the mood to look up.\n\n\n \"Not serious, you fool,\" Doc said. \"The\nstar\nSirius—the Dog Star,\n it's called—it moved a good sixty degrees,\nthen stopped dead\n!\"\n\n\n I sat up and took notice then, partly because the star really had\n stopped instead of burning out the way a falling star seems to do,\n partly because anything that excites Doc Shull that much is something\n to think about.\n\n\n We watched the star like two cats at a mouse-hole, but it didn't move\n again. After a while a smaller one did, though, and later in the night\n a whole procession of them streaked across the sky and fell into place\n around the first one, forming a pattern that didn't make any sense to\n us. They stopped moving around midnight and we went to bed, but\n neither of us got to sleep right away.\n\n\n \"Maybe we ought to look for another interest in life ourselves instead\n of drumming up one for Joey,\" Doc said. He meant it as a joke but it\n had a shaky sound; \"Something besides getting beered up every night,\n for instance.\"\n\n\n \"You think we've got the d.t.'s from drinking\nbeer\n?\" I asked.\n\n\n Doc laughed at that, sounding more like his old self. \"No, Roy. No\n two people ever had instantaneous and identical hallucinations.\"\n\n\n \"Look,\" I said. \"I know this sounds crazy but maybe Joey—\"\n\n\n Doc wasn't amused any more. \"Don't be a fool, Roy. If those stars\n really moved you can be sure of two things—Joey had nothing to do\n with it, and the papers will explain everything tomorrow.\"\n\n\n He was wrong on one count at least.\n\n\n The papers next day were packed with scareheads three inches high but\n none of them explained anything. The radio commentators quoted every\n authority they could reach, and astronomers were going crazy\n everywhere. It just couldn't happen, they said.\n\n\n Doc and I went over the news column by column that night and I learned\n more about the stars than I'd learned in a lifetime. Doc, as I've said\n before, is an educated man, and what he couldn't recall offhand about\n astronomy the newspapers quoted by chapter and verse. They ran\n interviews with astronomers at Harvard Observatory and Mount Wilson\n and Lick and Flagstaff and God knows where else, but nobody could\n explain why all of those stars would change position then stop.\n\n\n It set me back on my heels to learn that Sirius was twice as big as\n the Sun and more than twice as heavy, that it was three times as hot\n and had a little dark companion that was more solid than lead but\n didn't give off enough light to be seen with the naked eye. This\n little companion—astronomers called it the \"Pup\" because Sirius was\n the Dog Star—hadn't moved, which puzzled the astronomers no end. I\n suggested to Doc, only half joking, that maybe the Pup had stayed put\n because it wasn't bright enough to suit Joey's taste, but Doc called\n me down sharp.\n\n\n \"Don't joke about Joey,\" he said sternly. \"Getting back to\n Sirius—it's so far away that its light needs eight and a half years\n to reach us. That means it started moving when Joey was only eighteen\n months old. The speed of light is a universal constant, Roy, and\n astronomers say it can't be changed.\"\n\n\n \"They said the stars couldn't be tossed around like pool balls, too,\"\n I pointed out. \"I'm not saying that Joey really moved those damn\n stars, Doc, but if he did he could have moved the light along with\n them, couldn't he?\"\n\n\n But Doc wouldn't argue the point. \"I'm going out for air,\" he said.\n\n\n I trailed along, but we didn't get farther than Joey's wheelchair.\n\n\n There he sat, tense and absorbed, staring up at the night sky. Doc and\n I followed his gaze, the way you do automatically when somebody on the\n street ahead of you cranes his neck at something. We looked up just\n in time to see the stars start moving again.\n\n\n The first one to go was a big white one that slanted across the sky\n like a Roman candle fireball—\nzip\n, like that—and stopped dead\n beside the group that had collected around Sirius.\n\n\n Doc said, \"There went Altair,\" and his voice sounded like he had just\n run a mile.\n\n\n That was only the beginning. During the next hour forty or fifty more\n stars flashed across the sky and joined the group that had moved the\n night before. The pattern they made still didn't look like anything in\n particular.\n\n\n I left Doc shaking his head at the sky and went over to give Joey, who\n had called it a night and was hand-rolling his wheelchair toward the\n Pond trailer, a boost up the entrance ramp. I pushed him inside where\n Doc couldn't hear, then I asked him how things were going.\n\n\n \"Slow, Roy,\" he said. \"I've got 'most a hundred to go, yet.\"\n\n\n \"Then you're really moving those stars up there?\"\n\n\n He looked surprised. \"Sure, it's not so hard once you know how.\"\n\n\n The odds were even that he was pulling my leg, but I went ahead anyway\n and asked another question.\n\n\n \"I can't make head or tail of it, Joey,\" I said. \"What're you making\n up there?\"\n\n\n He gave me a very small smile.\n\n\n \"You'll know when I'm through,\" he said.\n\n\n I told Doc about that after we'd bunked in, but he said I should not\n encourage the kid in his crazy thinking. \"Joey's heard everybody\n talking about those stars moving, the radio newscasters blared about\n it, so he's excited too. But he's got a lot more imagination than most\n people, because he's a cripple, and he could go off on a crazy tangent\n because he's upset about Charlie. The thing to do is give him a\n logical explanation instead of letting him think his fantasy is a\n fact.\"\n\n\n Doc was taking all this so hard—because it was upsetting things he'd\n taken for granted as being facts all his life, like those astronomers\n who were going nuts in droves all over the world. I didn't realize how\n upset Doc really was, though, till he woke me up at about 4:00\n a.m.\n\n\n \"I can't sleep for thinking about those stars,\" he said, sitting on\n the edge of my bunk. \"Roy, I'm\nscared\n.\"\n\n\n That from Doc was something I'd never expected to hear. It startled me\n wide enough awake to sit up in the dark and listen while he unloaded\n his worries.\n\n\n \"I'm afraid,\" Doc said, \"because what is happening up there isn't\n right or natural. It just can't be, yet it is.\"\n\n\n It was so quiet when he paused that I could hear the blood swishing in\n my ears. Finally Doc said, \"Roy, the galaxy we live in is as\n delicately balanced as a fine watch. If that balance is upset too far\n our world will be affected drastically.\"\n\n\n Ordinarily I wouldn't have argued with Doc on his own ground, but I\n could see he was painting a mental picture of the whole universe\n crashing together like a Fourth of July fireworks display and I was\n afraid to let him go on.\n\n\n \"The trouble with you educated people,\" I said, \"is that you think\n your experts have got everything figured out, that there's nothing in\n the world their slide-rules can't pin down. Well, I'm an illiterate\n mugg, but I know that your astronomers can measure the stars till\n they're blue in the face and they'll never learn who\nput\nthose stars\n there. So how do they know that whoever put them there won't move them\n again? I've always heard that if a man had faith enough he could move\n mountains. Well, if a man has the faith in himself that Joey's got\n maybe he could move stars, too.\"\n\n\n Doc sat quiet for a minute.\n\n\n \"'\nThere are more things, Horatio....\n'\" he began, then laughed. \"A\n line worn threadbare by three hundred years of repetition but as apt\n tonight as ever, Roy. Do you really believe Joey is moving those\n stars?\"\n\n\n \"Why not?\" I came back. \"It's as good an answer as any the experts\n have come up with.\"\n\n\n Doc got up and went back to his own bunk. \"Maybe you're right. We'll\n find out tomorrow.\"\n\n\n And we did. Doc did, rather, while I was hard at work hauling red\n snappers up from the bottom of the Gulf.\nI got home a little earlier than usual that night, just before it got\n really dark. Joey was sitting as usual all alone in his wheelchair. In\n the gloom I could see a stack of books on the grass beside him, books\n Doc had given him to study. The thing that stopped me was that Joey\n was staring at his feet as if they were the first ones he'd ever seen,\n and he had the same look of intense concentration on his face that I'd\n seen when he was watching the stars.\n\n\n I didn't know what to say to him, thinking maybe I'd better not\n mention the stars. But Joey spoke first.\n\n\n \"Roy,\" he said, without taking his eyes off his toes, \"did you know\n that Doc is an awfully wise man?\"\n\n\n I said I'd always thought so, but why?\n\n\n \"Doc said this morning that I ought not to move any more stars,\" the\n kid said. \"He says I ought to concentrate instead on learning how to\n walk again so I can go to Michigan and find Charlie.\"\n\n\n For a minute I was mad enough to brain Doc Shull if he'd been handy.\n Anybody that would pull a gag like that on a crippled, helpless\n kid....\n\n\n \"Doc says that if I can do what I've been doing to the stars then it\n ought to be easy to move my own feet,\" Joey said. \"And he's right,\n Roy. So I'm not going to move any more stars. I'm going to move my\n feet.\"\n\n\n He looked up at me with his small, solemn smile. \"It took me a whole\n day to learn how to move that first star, Roy, but I could do this\n after only a couple of hours. Look....\"\n\n\n And he wiggled the toes on both feet.\n\n\n It's a pity things don't happen in life like they do in books, because\n a first-class story could be made out of Joey Pond's knack for moving\n things by looking at them. In a book Joey might have saved the world\n or destroyed it, depending on which line would interest the most\n readers and bring the writer the fattest check, but of course it\n didn't really turn out either way. It ended in what Doc Shull called\n an anticlimax, leaving everybody happy enough except a few astronomers\n who like mysteries anyway or they wouldn't be astronomers in the first\n place.\n\n\n The stars that had been moved stayed where they were, but the pattern\n they had started was never finished. That unfinished pattern won't\n ever go away, in case you've wondered about it—it's up there in the\n sky where you can see it any clear night—but it will never be\n finished because Joey Pond lost interest in it when he learned to walk\n again.\n\n\n Walking was a slow business with Joey at first because his legs had\n got thin and weak—partially atrophied muscles, Doc said—and it took\n time to make them round and strong again. But in a couple of weeks he\n was stumping around on crutches and after that he never went near his\n wheelchair again.\n\n\n Ethel sent him to school at Sarasota by bus and before summer vacation\n time came around he was playing softball and fishing in the Gulf with\n a gang of other kids on Sundays.\n\n\n School opened up a whole new world to Joey and he fitted himself into\n the routine as neat as if he'd been doing it all his life. He learned\n a lot there and he forgot a lot that he'd learned for himself by being\n alone. Before we realized what was happening he was just like any\n other ten-year-old, full of curiosity and the devil, with no more\n power to move things by staring at them than anybody else had.\n\n\n I think he actually forgot about those stars along with other things\n that had meant so much to him when he was tied to his wheelchair and\n couldn't do anything but wait and think.\n\n\n For instance, a scrubby little terrier followed him home from Twin\n Palms one day and Ethel let him keep it. He fed the pup and washed it\n and named it Dugan, and after that he never said anything more about\n going to Michigan to find Charlie. It was only natural, of course,\n because kids—normal kids—forget their pain quickly. It's a sort of\n defense mechanism, Doc says, against the disappointments of this life.\n\n\n When school opened again in the fall Ethel sold her trailer and got a\n job in Tampa where Joey could walk to school instead of going by bus.\n When they were gone the Twin Palms trailer court was so lonesome and\n dead that Doc and I pulled out and went down to the Lake Okechobee\n country for the sugar cane season. We never heard from Ethel and Joey\n again.\n\n\n We've moved several times since; we're out in the San Joaquin Valley\n just now, with the celery croppers. But everywhere we go we're\n reminded of them. Every time we look up at a clear night sky we see\n what Doc calls the Joey Pond Stellar Monument, which is nothing but a\n funny sort of pattern roughed in with a hundred or so stars of all\n sizes and colors.\n\n\n The body of it is so sketchy that you'd never make out what it's\n supposed to be unless you knew already what you were looking for. To\n us the head of a dog is fairly plain. If you know enough to fill in\n the gaps you can see it was meant to be a big shaggy dog with only one\n eye.\n\n\n Doc says that footloose migratories like him and me forget old\n associations as quick as kids do—and for the same good reason—so I'm\n not especially interested now in where Ethel and Joey Pond are or how\n they're doing. But there's one thing I'll always wonder about, now\n that there's no way of ever knowing for sure.\n\n\n I wish I'd asked Joey or Ethel, before they moved away, how Charlie\n lost that other eye.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What do all of the residents of the Twin Palms trailer court all seem to have in common", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_1", "options": ["They all have substance abuse issues.", "They are all broken or damaged in some way.", "They are all transient.", "They all rally around Joey to help him cope with the loss of his dog."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What lesson can be learned from Joey?", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_2", "options": ["If you force yourself into a state of disbelief about a difficult situation, it will eventually right itself.", "If you believe in something strongly enough, you can make it happen.", "No one in this world including your own mother is to be trusted.", "Just because you have a disability does not mean you cannot lead a normal life."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Even after they normally would have moved on, what seems to keep Doc and Roy at the Twin Palms trailer court?", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_3", "options": ["Doc is sweet on Ethel, and he wants to stay near her.", "Roy finally has a job that he enjoys, and he does not want to leave it.", "They have both essentially given up on life, and they no longer care where they live or where they go.", "They are both interested in and concerned for Joey, and they want to see where the story leads."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Joey's lack of emotion concerning the loss of Charley", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_4", "options": ["shows that he was brought up not to show emotion.", "shows that Joey is emotionally stunted and that, on top of Polio, he suffers from other ailments.  ", "shows that he has already lost so much in his life that he can't even cry over the loss of his dog.", "shows that he cannot, for whatever reason, admit that he is gone.  If Charlie is gone, then his hope is shattered, and he has no reason to even get up out of bed any longer."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What makes Joey transition from watching the road to watching the sky?", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_5", "options": ["He is finally told that Charlie cannot return home, so he believes he can rearrange the starts so he can still catch a glimpse of his beloved dog.", "He decided that the road no longer held anything for him.  The changing sky gave him more to see than the road ever did.", "He decides that Charlie is in Heaven, so he looks there to see him.", "His disease has progressed to the point that he can only hold his head in a position where he is looking up, now he can no longer look for his lost dog."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Ethel tells Joey", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_6", "options": ["his father came and took Charlie away while Joey was in the hospital.", "while he was in the hospital, someone picked Charlie up off the side of the road and took him out of state.", "Charlie was struck by a car when Joey was in the hospital.", "that if he does not stop dwelling on the dog, she will be forced to send him to the hospital."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Once it appears that Joey has been able to move the stars, who seem most concerned and why?", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_7", "options": ["Roy - he is afraid Joey is going to hurt himself.", "Ethel - she is afraid of the power that her son possesses.", "Joey - he is amazed by his abilities, and he is frightened about what he might do if he is angered.", "Doc - he is concerned that a catastrophe will occur because of the scientific oddity behind the starts moving."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Doc tells Joey that he needs to focus on something other than moving the stars. Why does he tell him this, and what is the end result of that suggestion?", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_8", "options": ["He wanted Joey to stop messing with nature, so Joey started to try to move his feet again, and he eventually learned how to walk again.", "He just felt like it was the thing to say because Joey's constant upward gaze make him even odder to others than before, but Joey did not listen and continued to alienate himself from everyone else.", "He wanted Joey to get a hobby so that he could be more productive and normal. and Joey ends up making friends because of it.", "He just wanted Joey to stop messing with nature, and that is what happened."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Joey's story was ", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_9", "options": ["in the end, not that big of a deal.  ", "so sad that people generally stayed away from him because he made them feel so uncomfortable.", "astounding.  Doc and others like him studied Joey's case for years to come", "just another story about a boy and his dog."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "In the end,", "question_unique_id": "31599_Z1URZQTV_10", "options": ["after everyone ends up leaving the trailer court, Charlie finds his way home.", "Roy never hears from Joey and his mom again.", "Doc and Roy stay in touch with Ethel and Joey for many years.", "the stars go back to where they were originally, and it was like the story never happened."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0001", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0040", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/3/1/5/9/31599//31599-h//31599-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "60745", "set_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "Gutenberg", "title": "The Autumn After Next", "year": 1953, "author": "St. Clair, Margaret", "topic": "Short stories; Magic -- Fiction; Science fiction; PS; Life on other planets -- Fiction", "article": "THE AUTUMN AFTER NEXT\nBy MARGARET ST. CLAIR\nBeing a wizard missionary to\n \nthe Free'l needed more than\n \nmagic—it called for a miracle!\n[Transcriber's Note: This etext was produced from\n\n Worlds of If Science Fiction, January 1960.\n\n Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that\n\n the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]\nThe spell the Free'l were casting ought to have drawn the moon down\n from the heavens, made water run uphill, and inverted the order of the\n seasons. But, since they had got broor's blood instead of newt's, were\n using alganon instead of vervet juice, and were three days later than\n the solstice anyhow, nothing happened.\n\n\n Neeshan watched their antics with a bitter smile.\n\n\n He'd tried hard with them. The Free'l were really a challenge to\n evangelical wizardry. They had some natural talent for magic, as was\n evinced by the frequent attempts they made to perform it, and they were\n interested in what he told them about its capacities. But they simply\n wouldn't take the trouble to do it right.\n\n\n How long had they been stamping around in their circle, anyhow? Since\n early moonset, and it was now almost dawn. No doubt they would go on\n stamping all next day, if not interrupted. It was time to call a halt.\n\n\n Neeshan strode into the middle of the circle. Rhn, the village chief,\n looked up from his drumming.\n\n\n \"Go away,\" he said. \"You'll spoil the charm.\"\n\n\n \"What charm? Can't you see by now, Rhn, that it isn't going to work?\"\n\n\n \"Of course it will. It just takes time.\"\n\n\n \"Hell it will. Hell it does. Watch.\"\n\n\n Neeshan pushed Rhn to one side and squatted down in the center of the\n circle. From the pockets of his black robe he produced stylus, dragon's\n blood, oil of anointing, and salt.\n\n\n He drew a design on the ground with the stylus, dropped dragon's blood\n at the corners of the parallelogram, and touched the inner cusps with\n the oil. Then, sighting carefully at the double red and white sun,\n which was just coming up, he touched the\nouter\ncusps with salt. An\n intense smoke sprang up.\nWhen the smoke died away, a small lizardlike creature was visible in\n the parallelogram.\n\n\n \"Tell the demon what you want,\" Neeshan ordered the Free'l.\n\n\n The Free'l hesitated. They had few wants, after all, which was one of\n the things that made teaching them magic difficult.\n\n\n \"Two big dyla melons,\" one of the younger ones said at last.\n\n\n \"A new andana necklace,\" said another.\n\n\n \"A tooter like the one you have,\" said Rhn, who was ambitious.\n\n\n \"Straw for a new roof on my hut,\" said one of the older females.\n\n\n \"That's enough for now,\" Neeshan interrupted. \"The demon can't bring\n you a tooter, Rhn—you have to ask another sort of demon for that. The\n other things he can get. Sammel, to work!\"\n\n\n The lizard in the parallelogram twitched its tail. It disappeared, and\n returned almost immediately with melons, a handsome necklace, and an\n enormous heap of straw.\n\n\n \"Can I go now?\" it asked.\n\n\n \"Yes.\" Neeshan turned to the Free'l, who were sharing the dyla melons\n out around their circle. \"You see?\nThat's\nhow it ought to be. You\n cast a spell. You're careful with it. And it works. Right away.\"\n\n\n \"When you do it, it works,\" Rhn answered.\n\n\n \"Magic works when\nanybody\ndoes it. But you have to do it right.\"\n\n\n Rhn raised his mud-plastered shoulders in a shrug. \"It's such a lot\n of dreeze, doing it that way. Magic ought to be fun.\" He walked away,\n munching on a slice of the melon the demon had brought.\n\n\n Neeshan stared after him, his eyes hot. \"Dreeze\" was a Free'l word that\n referred originally to the nasal drip that accompanied that race's\n virulent head colds. It had been extended to mean almost anything\n annoying. The Free'l, who spent much of their time sitting in the rain,\n had a lot of colds in the head.\n\n\n Wasn't there anything to be done with these people? Even the simplest\n spell was too dreezish for them to bother with.\n\n\n He was getting a headache. He'd better perform a headache-removing\n spell.\n\n\n He retired to the hut the Free'l had assigned to him. The spell worked,\n of course, but it left him feeling soggy and dispirited. He was still\n standing in the hut, wondering what he should do next, when his big\n black-and-gold tooter in the corner gave a faint \"woof.\" That meant\n headquarters wanted to communicate with him.\n\n\n Neeshan carefully aligned the tooter, which is basically a sort of lens\n for focusing neural force, with the rising double suns. He moved his\n couch out into a parallel position and lay down on it. In a minute or\n two he was deep in a cataleptic trance.\n\n\n The message from headquarters was long, circuitous, and couched in the\n elaborate, ego-caressing ceremonial of high magic, but its gist was\n clear enough.\n\n\n \"Your report received,\" it boiled down to. \"We are glad to hear that\n you are keeping on with the Free'l. We do not expect you to succeed\n with them—none of the other magical missionaries we have sent out ever\n has. But if you\nshould\nsucceed, by any chance, you would get your\n senior warlock's rating immediately. It would be no exaggeration, in\n fact, to say that the highest offices in the Brotherhood would be open\n to you.\"\nNeeshan came out of his trance. His eyes were round with wonder and\n cupidity. His senior warlock's rating—why, he wasn't due to get that\n for nearly four more six hundred-and-five-day years. And the highest\n offices in the Brotherhood—that could mean anything. Anything! He\n hadn't realized the Brotherhood set such store on converting the\n Free'l. Well, now, a reward like that was worth going to some trouble\n for.\n\n\n Neeshan sat down on his couch, his elbows on his knees, his fists\n pressed against his forehead, and tried to think.\n\n\n The Free'l liked magic, but they were lazy. Anything that involved\n accuracy impressed them as dreezish. And they didn't want anything.\n That was the biggest difficulty. Magic had nothing to offer them. He\n had never, Neeshan thought, heard one of the Free'l express a want.\n\n\n Wait, though. There was Rhn.\n\n\n He had shown a definite interest in Neeshan's tooter. Something in its\n intricate, florid black-and-gold curves seemed to fascinate him. True,\n he hadn't been interested in it for its legitimate uses, which were to\n extend and develop a magician's spiritual power. He probably thought\n that having it would give him more prestige and influence among his\n people. But for one of the Free'l to say \"I wish I had that\" about\n anything whatever meant that he could be worked on. Could the tooter be\n used as a bribe?\n\n\n Neeshan sighed heavily. Getting a tooter was painful and laborious. A\n tooter was carefully fitted to an individual magician's personality; in\n a sense, it was a part of his personality, and if Neeshan let Rhn have\n his tooter, he would be letting him have a part of himself. But the\n stakes were enormous.\n\n\n Neeshan got up from his couch. It had begun to rain, but he didn't want\n to spend time performing a rain-repelling spell. He wanted to find Rhn.\n\n\n Rhn was standing at the edge of the swamp, luxuriating in the downpour.\n The mud had washed from his shoulders, and he was already sniffling.\n Neeshan came to the point directly.\n\n\n \"I'll give you my tooter,\" he said, almost choking over the words, \"if\n you'll do a spell—a simple spell, mind you—exactly right.\"\n\n\n Rhn hesitated. Neeshan felt an impulse to kick him. Then he said,\n \"Well....\"\n\n\n Neeshan began his instructions. It wouldn't do for him to help Rhn too\n directly, but he was willing to do everything reasonable. Rhn listened,\n scratching himself in the armpits and sneezing from time to time.\n\n\n After Neeshan had been through the directions twice, Rhn stopped him.\n \"No, don't bother telling me again—it's just more dreeze. Give me the\n materials and I'll show you. Don't forget, you're giving me the tooter\n for this.\"\nHe started off, Neeshan after him, to the latter's hut. While Neeshan\n looked on tensely, Rhn began going through the actions Neeshan had\n told him. Half-way through the first decad, he forgot. He inverted\n the order of the hand-passes, sprinkled salt on the wrong point, and\n mispronounced the names in the invocation. When he pulled his hands\n apart at the end, only a tiny yellow flame sprang up.\n\n\n Neeshan cursed bitterly. Rhn, however, was delighted. \"Look at that,\n will you!\" he exclaimed, clapping his chapped, scabby little hands\n together. \"It worked! I'll take the tooter home with me now.\"\n\n\n \"The tooter? For\nthat\n? You didn't do the spell right.\"\n\n\n Rhn stared at him indignantly. \"You mean, you're not going to give me\n the tooter after all the trouble I went to? I only did it as a favor,\n really. Neeshan, I think it's very mean of you.\"\n\n\n \"Try the spell again.\"\n\n\n \"Oh, dreeze. You're too impatient. You never give anything time to\n work.\"\n\n\n He got up and walked off.\n\n\n For the next few days, everybody in the village avoided Neeshan. They\n all felt sorry for Rhn, who'd worked so hard, done everything he was\n told to, and been cheated out of his tooter by Neeshan. In the end\n the magician, cursing his own weakness, surrendered the tooter to\n Rhn. The accusatory atmosphere in the normally indifferent Free'l was\n intolerable.\n\n\n But now what was he to do? He'd given up his tooter—he had to ask\n Rhn to lend it to him when he wanted to contact headquarters—and the\n senior rating was no nearer than before. His head ached constantly,\n and all the spells he performed to cure the pain left him feeling\n wretchedly tired out.\n\n\n Magic, however, is an art of many resources, not all of them savory.\n Neeshan, in his desperation, began to invoke demons more disreputable\n than those he would ordinarily have consulted. In effect, he turned for\n help to the magical underworld.\n\n\n His thuggish informants were none too consistent. One demon told him\n one thing, another something else. The consensus, though, was that\n while there was nothing the Free'l actually wanted enough to go to any\n trouble for it (they didn't even want to get rid of their nasal drip,\n for example—in a perverse way they were proud of it), there\nwas\none\n thing they disliked intensely—Neeshan himself.\n\n\n The Free'l thought, the demons reported, that he was inconsiderate,\n tactless, officious, and a crashing bore. They regarded him as the\n psychological equivalent of the worst case of dreeze ever known,\n carried to the nth power. They wished he'd drop dead or hang himself.\n\n\n Neeshan dismissed the last of the demons. His eyes had begun to shine.\n The Free'l thought he was a nuisance, did they? They thought he was the\n most annoying thing they'd encountered in the course of their racial\n history? Good. Fine. Splendid. Then he'd\nreally\nannoy them.\n\n\n He'd have to watch out for poison, of course. But in the end, they'd\n turn to magic to get rid of him. They'd have to. And then he'd have\n them. They'd be caught.\n\n\n One act of communal magic that really worked and they'd be sold on\n magic. He'd be sure of his senior rating.\nNeeshan began his campaign immediately. Where the Free'l were, there\n was he. He was always on hand with unwanted explanations, hypercritical\n objections, and maddening \"wouldn't-it-be-betters.\"\n\n\n Whereas earlier in his evangelical mission he had confined himself to\n pointing out how much easier magic would make life for the Free'l, he\n now counciled and advised them on every phase of their daily routine,\n from mud-smearing to rain-sitting, and from the time they got up until\n they went to bed. He even pursued them with advice\nafter\nthey got\n into bed, and told them how to run their sex lives—advice which the\n Free'l, who set quite as much store by their sex lives as anybody does,\n resented passionately.\n\n\n But most of all he harped on their folly in putting up with nasal drip,\n and instructed them over and over again in the details of a charm—a\n quite simple charm—for getting rid of it. The charm would, he informed\n them, work equally well against anything—\nor person\n—that they found\n annoying.\n\n\n The food the Free'l brought him began to have a highly peculiar taste.\n Neeshan grinned and hung a theriacal charm, a first-class antidote\n to poison, around his neck. The Free'l's distaste for him bothered\n him, naturally, but he could stand it. When he had repeated the\n anti-annoyance charm to a group of Free'l last night, he had noticed\n that Rhn was listening eagerly. It wouldn't be much longer now.\n\n\n On the morning of the day before the equinox, Neeshan was awakened from\n sleep by an odd prickling sensation in his ears. It was a sensation\n he'd experienced only once before in his life, during his novitiate,\n and it took him a moment to identify it. Then he realized what it was.\n Somebody was casting a spell against him.\n\n\n At last! At last! It had worked!\n\n\n Neeshan put on his robe and hurried to the door of the hut. The day\n seemed remarkably overcast, almost like night, but that was caused by\n the spell. This one happened to involve the optic nerves.\n\n\n He began to grope his way cautiously toward the village center. He\n didn't want the Free'l to see him and get suspicious, but he did want\n to have the pleasure of seeing them cast their first accurate spell.\n (He was well protected against wind-damage from it, of course.) When\n he was almost at the center, he took cover behind a hut. He peered out.\n\n\n They were doing it\nright\n. Oh, what a satisfaction! Neeshan felt his\n chest expand with pride. And when the spell worked, when the big wind\n swooped down and blew him away, the Free'l would certainly receive a\n second magical missionary more kindly. Neeshan might even come back,\n well disguised, himself.\n\n\n The ritual went on. The dancers made three circles to the left,\n three circles to the right. Cross over, and all sprinkle salt on the\n interstices of the star Rhn had traced on the ground with the point of\n a knife. Back to the circle. One to the left, one to right, while Rhn,\n in the center of the circle, dusted over the salt with—with\nwhat\n?\n\n\n \"Hey!\" Neeshan yelled in sudden alarm. \"Not brimstone! Watch out!\n You're not doing it ri—\"\n\n\n His chest contracted suddenly, as if a large, stony hand had seized\n his thorax above the waist. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think,\n he couldn't even say \"Ouch!\" It felt as if his chest—no, his whole\n body—was being compressed in on itself and turning into something as\n hard as stone.\n\n\n He tried to wave his tiny, heavy arms in a counter-charm; he couldn't\n even inhale. The last emotion he experienced was one of bitterness. He\n might have\nknown\nthe Free'l couldn't get anything right.\nThe Free'l take a dim view of the small stone image that now stands in\n the center of their village. It is much too heavy for them to move, and\n while it is not nearly so much of a nuisance as Neeshan was when he was\n alive, it inconveniences them. They have to make a detour around it\n when they do their magic dances.\n\n\n They still hope, though, that the spells they are casting to get rid of\n him will work eventually. If he doesn't go away this autumn, he will\n the autumn after next. They have a good deal of faith in magic, when\n you come right down to it. And patience is their long suit.\n", "questions": [{"question": "The Free'l", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_1", "options": ["are magical wonders", "do their best to listen to their teacher, they just cannot seem to get it.", "take \"patience\" to a whole new level.", "truly believe in what they are doing."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What motivates the Free'l?", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_2", "options": ["Getting what they want through magic.", "Impressing Neeshan with their abilities.", "The prospect of accomplishing great magic.", "Nothing really motivates them at all.  "], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why do the Free'l seem to believe that their magic SHOULD work even though it doesn't?", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_3", "options": ["They are doing everything as they have been told, so there is no reason it should not work.", "They believe that they are doing enough of the steps right that it should work just because.", "Their teacher told them it should work.", "They were told that they were to be great magicians in a prophecy. "], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Neeshan's motivation to teach the Free'l magic is", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_4", "options": ["because he sees potential in them.", "because he believes teaching is his calling and if anyone can get through to them, it's him.", "strictly selfish.  ", "because he wants to change their apathetic state of mind."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why is Neeshan's plan with the tooter morally wrong?", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_5", "options": ["Rhn did not deserve the tooter.", "Neeshan will no longer be able to communicate with his people.", "The tooter does not want to go with Rhn, and his feelings were not taken into account.", "Essentially, the tooter is a part of Neeshan, so it is not really ok to give it away."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Neeshan's plan to get the Free'l to actually perform magic is ", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_6", "options": ["to get Rhn to do magic, then the rest will follow his lead.", "to annoy them to the point that they do magic out of spite.", "put one of them in danger, then they will be forced to do magic to save that person.", "he is going to work with them until they get it or until it kills them all."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How to the Free'l initially try to stop Neeshan's plan?", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_7", "options": ["They do a magic spell they had been keeping secret from him.", "They try to get him removed from his position.", "They try to poison him.", "They ask one of the demons to take him away."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does Neeshan feel initially when he sees the Free'l doing magic correctly?", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_8", "options": ["He is not surprised.  He knew he would be able to get them to do it eventually.", "He wonders who helped them learn magic because he could take no credit for their work.", "He almost feels a sense of pride and excitement.", "He is angry because it took them too long to finally get it."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When he realizes that they are messing up one of the steps, ", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_9", "options": ["Neeshan is angry because they are doing it wrong.", "Neeshan tries to run the other way because he knows that there is about to be trouble.", "Neeshan is scared because they are doing it wrong.", "Neeshan is far from surprised because they never listen."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Neeshan's plan to teach the Free'l", "question_unique_id": "60745_U9M4CL5M_10", "options": ["has the exact results he expected the whole time.", "is studied for generations as a guide to teaching reluctant learners magic.", "works, but not the way he wanted it to.", "is a complete failure, as are the Free'l."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0015", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://aleph.gutenberg.org/6/0/7/4/60745//60745-h//60745-h.htm", "license": "This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you’ll have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. Please refer to https://www.gutenberg.org/policy/license.html for the detailed license."}
{"article_id": "99905", "set_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "Going off track", "year": 2016, "author": "Christopher Beanland", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "Going off track\nBirmingham's airport isn't like other airports. Right at the north-western end of runway 15 there's a country park and a row of benches. You'll see families picnicking here, enjoying the subsonic spectacle of planes from Brussels, Bucharest and Barcelona roaring just feet overhead on their final approach. Birmingham isn't like other British cities – it fetishises the technical and promotes the new. It is unstinting in its thrall to evolution and unsentimental about erasing past versions of the future in its rush to create new ones; the comprehensive 1960s vision of the city which itself swept away a century's Victoriana is currently being meticulously taken apart concrete slab by concrete slab. The city's motto is 'Forward'. \n\n When you get to a certain age you realise how much more visions of the future say about the present they're concocted in than the actual future they purport to show us hurtling towards. A track in the air, sitting on top of concrete legs that couldn't look any more like rational new humans striding into a technocratic promised land if they tried, will always evoke a kind of nostalgia for the 20th century. You think of the SAFEGE monorail depicted in Truffaut's 1966 film adaptation of Fahrenheit 451; and of regional news reporters with greasy barnets delivering excited pieces to camera about big plans. \n\n Today, on the elevated track that gambols over windswept car parks and threads through cheap motels between Birmingham's airport terminal and the railway station, a simple, ski resort-style people-mover system ferries passengers from plane to train. Three decades ago it was so much more exciting: the world's first commercial maglev, or magnetic levitation, system ran along here.\nOpened in 1984, the Birmingham Maglev came at the very tail end of a\ntrente glorieuses\nfor British transport technology and, more broadly, European engineering; an era that promised so much yet eventually bequeathed so many relics and ruins. \n\n The modernism of the 20th century, expressed especially in architecture and engineering, seemed like nothing less than the founding of a new order. Progress was to be continual, unstoppable and good. Yet today the physical and philosophical advances are being gradually taken apart and retracted, as if we'd woken up sweating and feared we'd somehow overreached ourselves.  \n\n When the Birmingham Maglev was shuttered in 1995, one of the cars was dumped in a hedge near the A45. Furniture maker and transport enthusiast Andy Jones splashed out a mere £100 for it on eBay in 2011 (although, he says, \"it cost me £400 to get it out of the hedge!\"). Now it sits in a field behind Jones's house in Burton Green, a couple of miles east of the airport in the rolling Warwickshire countryside.\nI reminisce to Jones about my boyhood excitement for the Birmingham Maglev, about the silly enthusiasm I felt when I got to go on it in the late 80s. He shared the experience. \"I used it in the old days too,\" he says. \"I'd ride backwards and forwards on it, I thought it was smashing.\" \n\n \"The problem was, it was the end of one lot of technology. The first time it snowed, all hell broke loose! It had a ratcheting mechanism, a primitive form of winch. Beneath that was the hydraulic system. It was lifted up by the magnetic field (under the [car] are steel sheets). But you'd use the hydraulic system to pull it back up on to the system if it broke.\" \n\n Bob Gwynne, associate curator of collections and research at the National Rail Museum in York, says: \"British Rail's Derby Research Centre, founded in 1964, was arguably the world's leading rail research facility when it was in full operation. An understanding of the wheel and rail interface comes from there, as does the first tilting train, a new railbus, high-speed freight wagons, computer-controlled interlocking of track and signal, the first successful maglev and many other things.\" Gwynne has got the second of the three Birmingham Maglev cars at the museum.\nThe maglev was a development that spun out of this research at Derby, and developed in a joint project with a private consortium that included the now-defunct General Electric Company. The maglev cars were built by Metro Cammell at its factory four miles from the airport in Washwood Heath. It was the same place many tube carriages came from, and if you look down the doors on Piccadilly line carriages as you get on and off, you can see a cheery 1973 plaque reminding travellers of this fact (the cheeky Brummie assumption here being that London commuters always look at the floor). \n\n But the British maglev never really took off. Tim Dunn, transport historian and co-presenter of the BBC's Trainspotting Live, explains why. \"The early 80s was still a time of great British national-funded engineering,\" he says. \"Success at Birmingham Airport would have been a great advert for British Rail Engineering Limited (BREL) to sell maglev internationally. (Remember that BREL was always trying to sell its technology overseas, which is why several Pacer trains, developed on bus bodies, were sold to Iran.) Birmingham's Maglev only lasted 11 years: replacement parts were getting hard to obtain for what was really a unique system. Buses took over, and eventually a cable-hauled SkyRail people-mover was installed atop the piers. That's not as exciting for people like me, who like the idea of being whisked in a hovertrain pushed along by magnets. But then our real transport future always has been a pretty crap approximation of our dreams.\"\nYou don't have to look far to find other relics of this white-hot time when post-war confidence begat all sorts of oddities. There's the test track for the French Aerotrain outside Orleans – a rocket-powered prototype that never made it to middle age. And in Emsland, the German conglomerate Transrapid built a 32km supersized test track for their maglev, which seemed to be on course for success. A variation of this train shuttles passengers from Shanghai to the airport, and the plan was to copy the same model in Munich, and even build an intercity line from Berlin to Hamburg. Today the test track stands idle awaiting its fate, while the Transrapid vehicles are up for auction; a museum in Erfurt is trying to save the latter from the scrapyard. Little remains of Germany's other maglev, the M-Bahn (or Magnetbahn), a short-lived shuttle service that ran in West Berlin from 1989-91 connecting stations whose service had been previously severed by the Berlin Wall. With the Wall gone, the old U-Bahn service was reinstated and the M-Bahn, which had run along its tracks, disappeared from the capital of the new Germany. \n\n \"The problem with high-speed maglev like Transrapid in Germany,\" says Tim Dunn, \"is that it doesn't really stack up against high-speed rail. It's more expensive, it's lower capacity, it's more complex. There's a gap in the market, but there's no market in the gap. What is needed generally in mass transit is more capacity, rather than super high speed.\"\nBut back in the post-war period, we thought we could have everything. Britain's tertiary science departments expanded. We built the Comet jetliner, then Concorde; and concrete buildings to house them that the world envied, like the huge Heathrow hangar that Sir Owen Williams, primarily an engineer, designed for BOAC's planes; and architect James Stirling's much-lauded engineering faculty at Leicester University. Yet a little-known footnote from this period involves the interaction of magnets in high-speed train design with that other British invention that prevailed for a while but then seemed to peter out: the hovercraft. \n\n \"We have always wanted to get rid of wheels,\" says Railworld's Brian Pearce. \"One invention [to this end] was Chris Cockerell's hovercraft.\" At the same time, maglev technology was being developed by the British inventor, Eric Laithwaite, who was working on the linear induction motor at Imperial College when he found a way for it to produce lift as well as forward thrust. The two systems were combined to form a tracked hovercraft. \"So along came RTV31,\" says Pearce. \"The train rode along the track on a cushion of air created by big electric fans. Not very energy efficient! The forward motion was created by a linear motor, which moved along rather than going round and round.\"\nRTV31 could, like France's Aérotrain or the German Transrapid system, have been a viable new form of intercity travel. But funding was insufficient throughout the project and eventually Britain pulled the plug. In February 1973, a week after the first test RTV31 hovertrain reached 157km/h, the project was abandoned as part of wider budget cuts. \n\n There's an eerie reminder of the RTV31 in the big-skied, liminal lands of East Anglia. The train was tested on a track that ran up alongside the New Bedford River at Earith in Cambridgeshire: appropriate, because this 'river' is actually a supreme piece of man-made engineering from an earlier age, a dead-straight dyke dug by Dutchman Cornelius Vermuyden to drain the fens in the 1600s. The RTV31 test-track piers endure as further reminders of a past future. The vehicle itself sits not far away at Peterborough's Railworld, where its colourful exterior is strikingly visible to today's travellers on the East Coast Main Line from London to Scotland. Its neighbour is the final redundant Birmingham Maglev car.\nIn the far east, attitudes to maglev are different. Japan began maglev testing at roughly the same time as Britain in 1962 and is today building the longest, fastest maglev in the world. It will run mostly in tunnel, at 500km/h, taking a shocking 40 minutes to travel the 300km between Tokyo and Nagoya. It's been christened the Chūō Shinkansen: just another, faster type of bullet train for the central districts. Japan's system is a superconducting maglev, different to the Birmingham and German systems. It uses superconducting coils in the train, which cause repulsion to move the train forward. The Japanese also use wheels for the vehicle to 'land' on the track at low speeds. \n\n It's understandable that most serious interest in maglev deployment is in Asia – Japan, China, India,\" says John Harding, former chief maglev scientist for the US Department of Transportation. \"This is understandable wherever passenger traffic is huge and can dilute the enormous capital cost. (Maglev is indisputably more expensive upfront than high-speed rail.) Even for California, which has huge air passenger traffic between LA and San Francisco, there is nowhere near enough demand to justify maglev; probably not enough to justify high-speed rail. But the Chūō Shinkansen will probably be the greatest success for maglev.\" The first link between Tokyo and Nagoya is scheduled to begin operation in 2027. Then the Chinese are proposing a 600km/h system between Shanghai and Beijing.\nSo there are still some people dreaming big. The latest iteration of this is of course Hyperloop, whose vacuum tube technology harks back to another British engineering innovation: the atmospheric railway, which was developed by Henry Pinkus, the Samuda Brothers and eventually by Isambard Kingdom Brunel. This technology used varying air pressure to suck trains up a track in a partial vacuum. Lines popped up in London, Dublin and most notably Brunel's South Devon Railway, where the pipes were plagued by nibbling rats but the pumping stations survive as relics of Victorian visionaries. If those systems looked like something from HG Wells, with men in top hats smoking cigars, then Hyperloop, with its internet age funding from Tesla founder Elon Musk, could well end up appearing as a very 2010s caper when we look at back on it from the distance of decades. Or maybe Hyperloop will revolutionise travel like maglev was supposed to. \n\n Back in Burton Green, Andy Jones's maglev car lies in limbo. \"I'd like to build a platform around it,\" he says, \"turn it into a playhouse for the grandchildren perhaps? A couple of people want to take it away and turn it into a cafe.\" Perversely perhaps, its fate may be decided by another type of transport technology: more conventional high speed rail. The route for the much-disputed High Speed 2 line from London to Birmingham slices right through the field where the maglev car sits.  \n\n In the 2000s the UK Ultraspeed proposal was floated to link London, Birmingham, the North and Scotland by maglev. It never materialised. HS2 was the eventual successor to the Ultraspeed plan, though a less futuristic one. Jones has another idea for his forward moving relic: \"Maybe I'll turn it into viewing platform, so you could watch HS2's outdated technology.\"\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which of the following most accurately describes the topic of the article?", "question_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X_1", "options": ["Magnetic technology", "Technological evolution", "Trains", "Birmingham"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What nationality is the author?", "question_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X_2", "options": ["Japanese", "British", "American", "There is no indication of nationality"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are there not more maglev lines in the world?", "question_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X_3", "options": ["They are too hard to make", "They are fragile", "They are hard to justify", "They aren't fast enough"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are there more maglevs in Asia?", "question_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X_4", "options": ["More money", "More trains", "More resources", "More people"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is a message of this article?", "question_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X_5", "options": ["Technology will continue to change", "It is important to understand the history of trains", "Birmingham is a progressive city", "Maglev was a failure"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How many different people does the author quote?", "question_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X_6", "options": ["5", "3", "4", "2"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "About how many years will it take from the first testing of maglev to the completion of the Chuo Shinkansen?", "question_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X_7", "options": ["65", "27", "6", "62"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How long did the Birmingham maglev line run?", "question_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X_8", "options": ["11 years", "29 years", "6 years", "20 years"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of these is NOT a resting place of a Birmingham Maglev car?", "question_unique_id": "99905_RJIO1V5X_9", "options": ["Railworld", "Warwickshire", "Derby Research Centre", "National Rail Museum"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/machines/whither-british-maglev", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99922", "set_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-freesouls", "title": "Participative Pedagogy for a Literacy of Literacies", "year": null, "author": "Howard Rheingold", "topic": "Essay", "article": "Participative Pedagogy for a Literacy of Literacies\nPeople act and learn together for a rich mixture of reasons. The current\n story that most of us tell ourselves about how humans get things done is\n focused on the well-known flavors of self-interest, which make for great\n drama−survival, power, wealth, sex, glory. People also do things\n together for fun, for the love of a challenge, and because we sometimes\n enjoy working together to make something beneficial to everybody. If I\n had to reduce the essence of Homo sapiens to five words, “people do\n complicated things together” would do. Online social networks can be\n powerful amplifiers of collective action precisely because they augment\n and extend the power of ever-complexifying human sociality. To be sure,\n gossip, conflict, slander, fraud, greed and bigotry are part of human\n sociality, and those parts of human behavior can be amplified, too. But\n altruism, fun, community and curiosity are also parts of human\n sociality−and I propose that the Web is an existence proof that these\n capabilities can be amplified, as well. Indeed, our species’ social\n inventiveness is central to what it is to be human. The parts of the\n human brain that evolved most recently, and which are connected to what\n we consider to be our “higher” faculties of reason and forethought, are\n also essential to social life. The neural information-processing\n required for recognizing people, remembering their reputations, learning\n the rituals that remove boundaries of mistrust and bind groups together,\n from bands to communities to civilizations, may have been enabled by\n (and may have driven the rapid evolution of) that uniquely human brain\n structure, the neocortex.\nBut I didn’t start out by thinking about the evolutionary dynamics of\n sociality and the amplification of collective action. Like all of the\n others in this book, I started out by experiencing the new ways of being\n that Internet social media have made possible. And like the other\n Freesouls, Joi Ito has played a catalytic, communitarian,\n Mephistophelian, Pied-Piper-esque, authority-challenging, fun-loving\n role in my experiences of the possibilities of life online.\nFriends and Enthusiasts\nTo me, direct experience of what I later came to call virtual\n communities preceded theories about the ways people\n do things together online. I met Joi Ito in the 1980s as part of what we\n called “the Electronic Networking Association,” a small group of\n enthusiasts who thought that sending black and white text to BBSs with\n 1200 baud modems was fun. Joi, like Stewart Brand, was and is what Fred\n Turner calls a network entrepreneur, who\n occupies what Ronald Burt would call key structural roles−what\n Malcolm Gladwell called a connector.  Joi was also a\n believer in going out and doing things and not just talking about it.\nJoi was one of the founders of a multicultural BBS in Tokyo, and in the\n early 1990s I had begun to branch out from BBSs and the WELL to\n make connections in many different parts of the world. The fun of\n talking, planning, debating and helping each other online came before\n the notion that our tiny subculture might grow into a worldwide,\n many-to-many, multimedia network of a billion people.  We started to\n dream about future cybersocial possibilities only after personally\n experiencing something new, moving and authentic in our webs of budding\n friendship and collaboration. In recent years, cyberculture studies has\n grown into a discipline−more properly, an interdiscipline involving\n sociologists, anthropologists, historians, psychologists, economists,\n programmers and political scientists. Back when people online argued in\n 1200 baud text about whether one could properly call what we were doing\n a form of community, there was no body of empirical evidence to serve as\n a foundation for scientific argument−all theory was anecdotal. By now,\n however, there is plenty of data.\nOne particularly useful affordance of online sociality is that a great\n deal of public behavior is recorded and structured in a way that makes\n it suitable for systematic study. One effect of the digital Panopticon\n is the loss of privacy and the threat of tyrannical social control;\n another effect is a rich body of data about online behavior. Every one\n of Wikipedia’s millions of edits, and all the discussion and talk pages\n associated with those edits, is available for inspection−along with\n billions of Usenet messages. Patterns are beginning to emerge. We’re\n beginning to know something about what works and what doesn’t work with\n people online, and why.\nDoes knowing something about the way technical architecture influences\n behavior mean that we can put that knowledge to use? Now that we are\n beginning to learn a little about the specific sociotechnical\n affordances of online social networks, is it possible to derive a\n normative design? How should designers think about the principles of\n beneficial social software? Can inhumane or dehumanizing effects of\n digital socializing be mitigated or eliminated by better media design?\n In what ways does the design of social media enable or prevent heartfelt\n communitas, organized collective action, social capital, cultural and\n economic production? I’ve continued to make a direct experience of my\n life online−from lifelong friends like Joi Ito to the other people\n around the world I’ve come to know, because online media made it\n possible to connect with people who shared my interests, even if I had\n never heard of them before, even if they lived on the other side of the\n world. But in parallel with my direct experience of the blogosphere,\n vlogosphere, twitterverse and other realms of digital discourse, I’ve\n continued to track new research and theory about what cyberculture might\n mean and the ways in which online communication media influence and are\n shaped by social forces.\nThe Values of Volunteers\nOne of the first questions that arose from my earliest experiences\n online was the question of why people in online communities should spend\n so much time answering each other’s questions, solving each other’s\n problems, without financial compensation. I first encountered Yochai\n Benkler in pursuit of my curiosity about the reason people would work\n together with strangers, without pay, to create something nobody\n owns−free and open source software. First in Coase’s Penguin, and\n then in The Wealth of Networks, Benkler contributed to important\n theoretical foundations for a new way of thinking about online\n activity−”commons based peer production,” technically made possible by a\n billion PCs and Internet connections−as a new form of organizing\n economic production, together with the market and the firm. If Benkler\n is right, the new story about how humans get things done includes an\n important corollary−if tools like the PC and the Internet make it easy\n enough, people are willing to work together for non-market incentives to\n create software, encyclopedias and archives of public domain literature.\n While the old story is that people are highly unlikely to\n cooperate with strangers to voluntarily create public goods, the new\n story seems to be that people will indeed create significant common\n value voluntarily, if it is easy enough for anybody to add what they\n want, whenever they want to add it (“self election”). There is plenty of\n evidence to support the hypothesis that what used to be considered\n altruism is now a byproduct of daily life online. So much of what we\n take for granted as part of daily life online, from the BIND software\n that makes domain names work, to the Apache webserver that powers a\n sizable chunk of the world’s websites, to the cheap Linux servers that\n Google stacks into its global datacloud, was created by volunteers who\n gave their creations away to make possible something larger−the Web as\n we know it.\nTo some degree, the explosion of creativity that followed the debut of\n the Web in 1993 was made possible by deliberate design decisions on the\n part of the Internet’s architects−the end-to-end principle, built into\n the TCP/IP protocols that make the Internet possible, which deliberately\n decentralizes the power to innovate, to build something new and even\n more powerful on what already exists. Is it possible to understand\n exactly what it is about the web that makes Wikipedia, Linux,\n FightAIDS@Home, the Gutenberg Project and Creative Commons possible? And\n if so, can this theoretical knowledge be put to practical use? I am\n struck by a phrase of Benkler’s from his essay in this book: “We must\n now turn our attention to building systems that support human\n sociality.” That sounds right. But how would it be done? It’s easy to\n say and not as easy to see the ways in which social codes and power\n structures mold the design of communication media. We must develop a\n participative pedagogy, assisted by digital media and networked publics,\n that focuses on catalyzing, inspiring, nourishing, facilitating, and\n guiding literacies essential to individual and collective life.\nA Participative Pedagogy\nTo accomplish this attention-turning, we must develop a participative\n pedagogy, assisted by digital media and networked publics, that focuses\n on catalyzing, inspiring, nourishing, facilitating, and guiding\n literacies essential to individual and collective life in the 21st\n century. Literacies are where the human brain, human sociality and\n communication technologies meet. We’re accustomed to thinking about the\n tangible parts of communication media−the devices and networks−but the\n less visible social practices and social affordances, from the alphabet\n to TCP/IP, are where human social genius can meet the augmenting power\n of technological networks. Literacy is the most important method Homo\n sapiens has used to introduce systems and tools to other humans, to\n train each other to partake of and contribute to culture, and to\n humanize the use of instruments that might otherwise enable\n commodification, mechanization and dehumanization. By literacy, I mean,\n following on Neil Postman and others, the set of skills that enable\n individuals to encode and decode knowledge and power via speech,\n writing, printing and collective action, and which, when learned,\n introduce the individual to a community. Literacy links technology and\n sociality. The alphabet did not cause the Roman Empire, but made it\n possible. Printing did not cause democracy or science, but literate\n populations, enabled by the printing press, devised systems for citizen\n governance and collective knowledge creation. The Internet did not cause\n open source production, Wikipedia or emergent collective responses to\n natural disasters, but it made it possible for people to act together in\n new ways, with people they weren’t able to organize action with before,\n in places and at paces for which collective action had never been\n possible. Literacies are the prerequisite for the human agency that used\n alphabets, presses and digital networks to create wealth, alleviate\n suffering and invent new institutions. If the humans currently alive are\n to take advantage of digital technologies to address the most severe\n problems that face our species and the biosphere, computers, telephones\n and digital networks are not enough. We need new literacies around\n participatory media, the dynamics of cooperation and collective action,\n the effective deployment of attention and the relatively rational and\n critical discourse necessary for a healthy public sphere.\nMedia Literacies\nIn Using Participatory Media and Public Voice to Encourage Civic\n Engagement, I wrote:\nIf print culture shaped the environment in which the Enlightenment\n blossomed and set the scene for the Industrial Revolution,\n participatory media might similarly shape the cognitive and social\n environments in which twenty first century life will take place (a\n shift in the way our culture operates). For this reason, participatory\n media literacy is not another subject to be shoehorned into the\n curriculum as job training for knowledge workers.\nParticipatory media include (but aren’t limited to) blogs, wikis, RSS,\n tagging and social bookmarking, music-photo-video sharing, mashups,\n podcasts, digital storytelling, virtual communities, social network\n services, virtual environments, and videoblogs. These distinctly\n different media share three common, interrelated characteristics:\nMany-to-many media now make it possible for every person connected\n to the network to broadcast as well as receive text, images,\n audio, video, software, data, discussions, transactions,\n computations, tags, or links to and from every other person. The\n asymmetry between broadcaster and audience that was dictated by\n the structure of pre-digital technologies has changed radically.\n This is a technical- structural characteristic.\nParticipatory media are social media whose value and power derives\n from the active participation of many people. Value derives not\n just from the size of the audience, but from their power to link\n to each other, to form a public as well as a market. This is a\n psychological and social characteristic.\nSocial networks, when amplified by information and communication\n networks, enable broader, faster, and lower cost coordination\n of activities. This is an economic and political characteristic.\nLike the early days of print, radio, and television, the present\n structure of the participatory media regime−the political, economic,\n social and cultural institutions that constrain and empower the way\n the new medium can be used, and which impose structures on flows of\n information and capital−is still unsettled. As legislative and\n regulatory battles, business competition, and social institutions vie\n to control the new regime, a potentially decisive and presently\n unknown variable is the degree and kind of public participation.\n Because the unique power of the new media regime is precisely its\n participatory potential, the number of people who participate in using\n it during its formative years, and the skill with which they attempt\n to take advantage of this potential, is particularly salient.\nLike Yochai Benkler and Henry Jenkins, I believe that a\n participatory culture in which most of the population see themselves as\n creators as well as consumers of culture is far more likely to generate\n freedom and wealth for more people than one in which a small portion of\n the population produces culture that the majority passively consume. The\n technological infrastructure for participatory media has grown rapidly,\n piggybacking on Moore’s Law, globalization, the telecom bubble and the\n innovations of Swiss physicists and computer science\n students. Increasingly, access to that infrastructure−the ability to\n upload a Macaca video or uncover a threat to democracy−has become\n economically accessible. Literacy−access to the codes and communities of\n vernacular video, microblogging, social bookmarking, wiki\n collaboration−is what is required to use that infrastructure to create a\n participatory culture. A population with broadband infrastructure and\n ubiquitous computing could be a captive audience for a cultural\n monopoly, given enough bad laws and judicial rulings. A population that\n knows what to do with the tools at hand stands a better chance of\n resisting enclosure. The more people who know how to use participatory\n media to learn, inform, persuade, investigate, reveal, advocate and\n organize, the more likely the future infosphere will allow, enable and\n encourage liberty and participation. Such literacy can only make action\n possible, however−it is not in the technology, or even in the knowledge\n of how to use it, but in the ways people use knowledge and technology to\n create wealth, secure freedom, resist tyranny.\n", "questions": [{"question": "To which of the following is the technical and cultural shift NOT compared?", "question_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF_1", "options": ["The Industrial Revolution", "The printing press", "The alphabet", "The Communist Revolution"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to the author, is this technological and cultural shift good or bad? Why?", "question_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF_2", "options": ["It is bad because of the inhumane and dehumanizing effects of digital socializing", "It is good because it creates a new production and consumption dynamic", "It is good because it creates free labor", "It is bad because of the loss of privacy"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is the main theme of this article?", "question_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF_3", "options": ["We should take advantage of the free labor provided by these collaborative environments.", "We should develop better legislation to support technological advancement", "We should embrace and develop literacy in this moment of cultural shifting", "Governments will try to control people's freedom"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author want the reader to do?", "question_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF_4", "options": ["Increase digital literacy and participate", "Nothing, this was only an informative article", "Get jobs in digital fields", "Lobby for greater support for technological advancement"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is NOT a characteristic of participatory media?", "question_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF_5", "options": ["Symmetry between broadcaster and audience", "Easy organization", "Loss of individual identity", "Participation determines value"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following things does the author likely value most?", "question_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF_6", "options": ["Technology", "Freedom", "Progress", "Value"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which of the following ways fits best with how the author first fell in love with collaborative technology?", "question_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF_7", "options": ["Text message", "Wikipedia", "Social Media", "Blogs"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "How does the author likely feel about the present?", "question_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF_8", "options": ["He is optimistic", "He is cynical", "This is an impossible question to answer based on the article", "He does not feel anything"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the title of the article mean?", "question_unique_id": "99922_ELKW21SF_9", "options": ["It is simply a clever use of alliteration", "Reading is important", "We need to learn from the article", "We teach and learn collaboratively"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "https://freesouls.cc/essays/03-howard-rheingold-participative-pedagogy-for-a-literacy-of-literacies.html", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://freesouls.cc"}
{"article_id": "99916", "set_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "Voting blocks", "year": 2016, "author": "Adam Greenfield", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "Voting blocks\nEven if your interest in global politics extends no further than an occasional worried glance at the headlines, it will not have escaped your notice that there's something in the air these past few years: a kind of comprehensive, worldwide souring of the possibilities of representative democracy. \n\n You might not have thought of it in just these terms, but you'll certainly recognise its effects: it has shown up in phenomena as varied and seemingly disconnected as the Brexit referendum, the candidacy of Donald Trump in the USA and the turn toward authoritarian parties and governments in France, Turkey, Hungary, the Philippines and elsewhere. This is, perhaps, the pre-eminent political story of our time. \n\n What all of these more recent developments have in common is the sense among a wide swath of the electorate, in country after country, that the conventional practice of democracy has failed them. It no longer expresses the will of the people, if it ever did, and now serves only the needs of distant, shadowy, unspecified elites. And as is so often the case, there is a grain of truth to this. \n\n Our democracies certainly do seem to be having a hard time reckoning with many profound crises, whether these involve the integration of refugees, the disappearance of work or the threats of climate change. Our existing ways of making collective decisions have conspicuously failed to help us develop policies equal to the scale of crisis. There really is a global 1 per cent, and they seem to be hell-bent on having themselves a new Gilded Age, even as the public services the rest of us depend on are stripped to the bone. Throw in the despair that sets in after many years of imposed austerity and it's no wonder that many people have had enough. \n\n Some voters, either impervious to the lessons of history, or certain that whatever comes, they'll wind up on top, seek the clarity and vigour of a strong hand. They are perhaps encouraged by authoritarian leaders abroad, with their own internal reasons for disparaging the practice of democracy and much to gain by undermining confidence in it. Other voters have no particular time for the right, but feel betrayed by the parties they once trusted to advance their class interest. When they look around and see that someone other than them is indeed profiting from the status quo, they lose all patience with the idea that redress can be found in the ballot box. They're willing to see their own house burned down, if that's what it takes to stick it to the despised elites that are suddenly, heedlessly gentrifying their neighbourhoods and 'decanting' them from their homes. \n\n These are certainly depressing responses to the situation we find ourselves in, but they're not in any way irrational. Yet there's another, more hopeful and interesting way of responding to this same set of facts. It argues that what we need now is more democracy, not less; and a new kind of democracy at that, one founded on technical means. This curious prospect is presented to us by modes of social organisation and self-governance based on the blockchain, the technology underlying the Bitcoin cryptocurrency. And though blockchain advocates are nowhere near as prominent as the neo-authoritarian tendencies everywhere around us, what they are arguing for – 'distributed consensus' – is so interesting and so utterly unlike anything that has gone before that it deserves our fullest and most serious consideration.\nWe're told that this emerging technology of 'distributed consensus' makes entirely new forms of human association possible; that anyone who wants to will be able to organise themselves into non-hierarchical groups with as much ability to act in the world as any state or corporation.  \n\n The idea is that governmental structures at just about every level of society would be replaced by voluntary associations represented as software. Participants in these groups could remain anonymous to one another, if desired. But their identities would be verified – and their votes authenticated – by the same processes that secure the Bitcoin network, meaning that a permanent, secure record of every vote ever taken would be available for all to see. As each of these groups would be able to dispose of fiscal resources directly, Porto Alegre-style participatory budgeting could be realised, at whatever scale required. And just like Bitcoin, all of this functionality would be distributed across the network, making it inherently resistant to attempts at state censorship or control.\nEnthusiasm for distributed consensus is especially marked on the left, and it's easy to understand why: you'd have a hard time intentionally designing language more likely to appeal to tech-savvy horizontalists than 'distributed consensus'. The phrase summons up images of a society organised as a supple network instead of a hierarchy, its far-flung and mobile constituents bound together by a guiding ethos of participation, and an immaterial but powerful calculated technology.\nThoughtful veterans of the post-2008 moment could be forgiven for thinking that, just maybe, here at last is a concrete way of achieving ends promised but never quite delivered by 15M, Occupy, Nuit Débout, or what has come to be known as the broader global 'movement of the squares': a commons outside the market and the state, a framework for democratic decision-making truly suited to the context of 21st-century life, and just possibly a functioning anarchy. \n\n This is certainly a supremely attractive vision, at least for those of us whose hearts beat a little bit faster at the prospect of ordinary people everywhere taking their fate into their own hands. In fact, there's really only one problem with it: it's all based on a misunderstanding.\nLet's back up a little. What, exactly, does distributed consensus mean? And what does it have to do with the new forms of democracy that might now be available to us? \n\n At a time when 'disruption' and 'disintermediation' remain potent words in the tech community, it was inevitable that someone would think to disrupt the way we organise civic life. Early experiments in digital democracy mostly confined themselves to tinkering in the mechanics of an otherwise conventional political process – working out, for example, how verified electronic voting might work. But more recent proposals, such as the \"distributed autonomous organisations\" pioneered by the Ethereum project, and the structurally similar Backfeed and democracy.earth initiatives, offer far more ambitious ideas of networked citizenship and decision-making. \n\n All three are based on the decentralised system of authentication that was originally developed for the Bitcoin cryptocurrency. The details of this mechanism are fiendishly difficult to understand, but its essence – and the innovation that so excites fans of networked democracy – is that it proves the legitimacy of Bitcoin transactions computationally, instead of relying on the authority of any government or banking institution. \n\n Everything rests on the blockchain, a permanent, transparent record of every exchange of Bitcoin ever made, an identical copy of which is held locally by every machine participating in the network. The blockchain maintains and reconciles all account balances, and is the sole arbiter in the event of a discrepancy or dispute. Whenever a new transaction appears on the Bitcoin network, all of its nodes perform an elaborate series of calculations aimed at validating it, and a majority of them must agree its legitimacy before it can be added to the shared record. This peer-to-peer process of distributed consensus can be applied beyond cryptocurrency to other situations that require some kind of procedure for the collective construction of truth.\nOne of these is communal decision-making, at every level from household to nation. So by extension distributed consensus could be applied to the practice of democracy. Moreover, frameworks based on the blockchain promise to solve a number of long-standing democratic problems. \n\n They give organisers the ability to form associations rapidly and equip them with clear, secure and answerable decision processes. Their provisions allow members of those associations to float proposals, raise points for discussion among their peers, and allow enough time for deliberation before a question is called to a vote. They seem well suited to address some of the limits and frustrations of the Occupy-style forum, chiefly its requirement that everyone sharing an interest be present at once in order to be counted. And by allowing an association to specify any decision rule it pleases – from simple majority to absolute consensus – these frameworks even seem as if they might address the distaste some of us have always harboured for the coercion implicit in any majoritarian process (many don't like the idea that they need to go along with a notion just because 52 per cent of the population voted for it). \n\n These systems would appear to be applicable to democracy, then. But more than that, they gesture beyond conventional politics, toward something not far off utopian. \n\n When I meet people who are genuinely excited by platforms like democracy.earth, Ethereum and Backfeed, most often what they're responding to is not so much about how these frameworks address the practicalities of small-group decision-making. They're more about the radical, classically anarchist vision they offer of a world in which power is distributed across a federation of nonhierarchical assemblies unsanctioned by any apparatus of state, each one lasting just long enough to enact its participants' will before evaporating for ever. \n\n And that's why it's little short of heartbreaking to conclude that their hopes stem from a confusion of language. \n\n There's a fair degree of slippage between the way we'd be likely to interpret 'distributed consensus' in a political context, and what the same phrase actually denotes in its proper, technical context. As it turns out, here the word 'consensus' doesn't have anything to do with that sense of common purpose nurtured among a group of people over the course of long and difficult negotiations. Rather, it is technical jargon: it simply refers to the process by which all of the computers participating in the Bitcoin network eventually come to agree that a given transaction is valid. Instead of being a technically mediated process of agreement among peers and equals separated from one another in space and time, it's actually just a reconciliation of calculations being performed by distant machines.  \n\n To mistake the one for the other is to commit a dangerous error.\nWhy dangerous? One of the primary risks we face in embracing blockchain-based structures is that we may not actually be advancing the set of values we think we are. The provisions that frameworks like Ethereum, Backfeed and democracy.earth are founded on, in particular, are difficult to reconcile with other values and commitments we may hold, especially the notion of a life in common.  \n\n An Ethereum distributed autonomous organisation, for example, requires that members buy shares in it in order to participate. This is necessitated by the reward structure that incentivises machines to perform the calculations that establish distributed consensus; but it seems curiously at odds with our understanding of political participation as an inalienable right. Ethereum democracies, too, have something most others do not: owners, someone empowered to add or remove voting members at will, set its binding decision rules, and change those rules whenever they desire. \n\n This is certainly a novel and interesting definition of a democracy. In fact, we find, on looking just a little more closely, that relations of property and ownership are absolutely central to this set of technologies – perhaps unsurprisingly, given its origins in the libertarian cryptocurrency community. This, for example, is how Ethereum founder Vitalik Buterin thinks of human association: \n\n \"In general, a human organisation can be defined as combination of two things: a set of property, and a protocol for a set of individuals, which may or may not be divided into certain classes with different conditions for entering or leaving the set, to interact with each other including rules for under what circumstances the individuals may use certain parts of the property.\" \n\n On closer inspection, this doesn't seem to have much to do with the practice of collective self-determination. And with a similar emphasis on property rights, the discourse around the blockchain also routinely treats as uncontroversial statements which are no such thing. The acceptance of these values runs so deep that when democracy.earth announced itself \"a Y Combinator-backed organisation\", nobody involved evidently wondered whether something which aspired to be a radical new way of doing politics should tout its backing by a venture-capital seed fund based in Silicon Valley. \n\n However utopian a politics of distributed consensus might sound to us, then, there's no way in which it can be prised apart from the entirely conventional constructions of ownership, private property and capital accumulation at its very heart, at least not in its present form. The profoundly murky quality of blockchain technology – and the relative lack of accessible but technically sophisticated resources that might explain it – thus causes some of us to endorse a set of propositions we'd otherwise recoil from. We criticise lack of government transparency, yet the blockchain is unfathomable to most people. \n\n Finally, too many of those touting distributed democracy retain a weirdly naive faith in the promises made about the blockchain's ability to transcend human fallibility, despite the well-known history of Bitcoin hacks, thefts and exploits. The founders of democracy.earth, for example, would have us believe that the blockchain is 'incorruptible', when, as all long-time observers of the cryptocurrency scene know, it's anything but. There is no better case in point than Ethereum's own networked democracy, a distributed venture fund rather confusingly called the DAO – Decentralised Autonomous Organisation – which was notoriously drained of a full third of its value by someone who evidently understood its coding better than its own originators. The Ethereum blockchain was subsequently 'hard forked' to undo this exploit, but only at the cost of angering that passionate fraction of their community convinced that distributed calculation could achieve what millennia of human law and custom had not. \n\n Though they may someday be robust enough to undergird decisions of genuine import, the experience of the DAO suggests that blockchain-based protocols are at present no more trustworthy than any of the less glamorous methods for assessing communal sentiment we already have at our disposal: the assembly, the discussion and the poll.\nThere's a long list of benefits that might follow from shifting civic life on to a networked platform. \n\n If people could participate in public life from their laptop (or smartphone, or gaming platform), we might be able to democratise democracy itself, in all sorts of salutary ways. We might fold in all those who, by dint of their work, childcare or family obligations, are too exhausted or pressed for time to attend a decision-making assembly, and prevent the common circumstance in which such an assembly is captured by a bad-faith participant with an axe to grind. We could avoid having to gather stakeholders in a given place and time to make decisions of common import, and allow people to participate in public life as and when they were able to. And we could apply to that participation all the tools that arise from being networked and digital, particularly the ability to capture and analyse detailed data about a matter up for discussion.  \n\n Under such circumstances, decisions could be compared between polities and jurisdictions, or with ones made locally in the past, and every aspect of a community's process of self-determination could be searchable, so available to all who might benefit. Over time, we might even learn to make wiser decisions, individually and collectively. Though the devil is always in the detail of implementation, these possibilities are all well worth exploring; and taken together they certainly furnish us with a strong case for networked democracy. \n\n But there are problems even with such relatively simple articulations of civic technology. Not everyone owns a smartphone, even now, let alone any more expensive networked devices. Just over 60 per cent of North Americans do, which falls far short of the universal access on which any system for networked democracy would need to be based. And technologists and advocates for new technology are often blind to the digital divide, which prevents measures that seem utterly obvious and self-evident to them from being at all suited to the lives of others. \n\n Transplanting democracy on to the blockchain is more problematic still, especially for those of us who aspire to a life broadly governed by the principles of the commons. When we dig beneath appealing-sounding buzzwords like 'peer-to-peer' and 'open source', we find that all of the current, real-world examples of blockchain technology commit us to a set of values that isn't merely at variance with those principles, but is outright inimical to them. (Our ignorance about how the blockchain actually works is an additional source of concern. When something is this complicated, this difficult for even very bright people to understand, it's inherently open to the greatest potential for abuse. The market in derivative securities comes to mind.) \n\n But maybe these are errors we can learn from. It's worth asking if some of the things the blockchain-based frameworks promise to do for us might be lifted whole out of the matrix of their origins.  \n\n They get a lot of things very right, after all – particularly their understanding that democracy is an ongoing process, and not something that happens in a voting booth on one day every four or five years. And by framing the practice of active citizenship as something appropriate to every scale of collective existence, they suggest that such participation should occupy a larger place in our civic lives; that we can and should assume control over a wider range of the circumstances of our being. \n\n By the same token, democratic practice is a subtle thing. It is possible to do a great deal of damage by applying it without due regard for its strengths and limitations – witness Brexit. So perhaps the most important thing we might seek to gain from our encounter with tools like Backfeed and democracy.earth is a lesson in what works at what scale and what doesn't. We could then design a generation of distributed collective decision processes that are straightforward enough to be understood by the people using them, and not beholden to profoundly interested notions of private advantage. Developing an infrastructure built from the ground up would be a great way of redeeming the hope that's already been invested in these systems, and it might even convince those who have become disillusioned with democracy that there's more life in the concept yet. Maybe it's time we got started.\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which of the following most closely fits the theme of this article?", "question_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9_1", "options": ["Blockchains as a democratic tool do not currently work", "Blockchains could be a democratic tool if used properly", "None of the options fit as the theme", "Blockchains are the future of democracy"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why are worldwide democracies struggling?", "question_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9_2", "options": ["They aren't struggling", "They are not perceived as representative", "They are poor", "There are many undemocratic candidates with the clarity and vigour of a strong hand"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Does the author agree with using networked systems to support democracy?", "question_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9_3", "options": ["No, the Ethereum experiment failed", "No, it is a system vulnerable to hacking", "Yes, this is the path to give representation back to the people", "Yes, but the technology needs improvement"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the misunderstanding of blockchain democracy?", "question_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9_4", "options": ["Distributed consensus in a political versus technical context", "Network vulnerability", "Non-universal smartphone accessibility", "Blockchains are innately difficult to understand"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is NOT a problem with blockchain democracy?", "question_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9_5", "options": ["Human interest", "Complication of the system", "Insecure systems", "Non-universal smartphone accessibility"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author likely think will happen if democracy does not evolve?", "question_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9_6", "options": ["The article is unclear on this question", "Nothing, the author wants to make a functioning system better", "Dissatisfaction will eventually lead to another age of dictators", "Less people will participate"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Who would benefit most from a distributed collective decision process?", "question_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9_7", "options": ["The 40% of North Americans without smartphones", "Busy voters", "Silicon Valley", "Politicians"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which area of the voting process would be most improved from blockchain democracy?", "question_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9_8", "options": ["The article is unclear", "Large-scale legislation", "Daily civic participation", "Presidential votes"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Does the author think that Brexit was a good thing?", "question_unique_id": "99916_T5VD7GB9_9", "options": ["Yes, it showed a strength of democracy", "No, it showed a weakness of democracy", "Yes, the majority of voters got what they wanted", "The article is unclear"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "http://thelongandshort.org/machines/democracy-on-the-blockchain", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99915", "set_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "The forests bear the carbon", "year": 2016, "author": "Oscar Rickett", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "The forests bear the carbon\nAmogh Rai is standing on a small patch of wooded hillside, his Android phone held up above him, taking in the canopies of the trees that rise up around us. There's a problem though. It's a winter's day in the northern Indian foothills of the Himalayas, and the sun isn't breaking through the clouds with its usual clarity. Rai is using an app on his phone to help him understand the canopy's interception of light, but a layer of haze is preventing the 27-year-old Indian from collecting any meaningful data. \n\n Around him are some other tools of the trade: a portable device known as a ceptometer, used for measuring leaf area index; a spherical densiometer, for understanding canopy foliage and foliage covering the ground; and a laser rangefinder, which is used to estimate the height of trees but which has a tendency to malfunction. I'm six feet tall. The laser rangefinder is often convinced that I'm actually 17 metres.  \n\n What is happening here may resemble a comedy of elemental errors, but it has significance far beyond the mountainous forests of Kumaon, one of two regions in the state of Uttarakhand. Rai is working with a number of other ecologists and field assistants on the pithily titled research project, Long-term Monitoring of Biomass Stocks and Forest Community Structures in Temperate Zone of Western Himalaya. \n\n Spearheaded by the non-governmental Centre for Ecology Development and Research (CEDAR) and funded by India's Department of Science and Technology, this project is about climate change. It seeks to find out how much carbon is being absorbed by the region's forests. This is achieved by taking the information collected – foliage overlay, the height of the trees, leaf area index and canopy layer, among other things – and using it to make an allometric equation. \n\n Understanding the basic mechanism of carbon sequestration and the level of human disturbance in these forests can then provide the framework for a plan that seeks to pay local people to maintain the forests. If the project can determine how much human interaction with the forest has affected the trees' ability to photosynthesise, then local people can be paid to preserve the forest. Otherwise, its ability to act as a 'carbon sink' (anything that absorbs more carbon than it releases) risks damage from overuse. \n\n Right now, the forests of Kumaon are used primarily for fodder and fuel. Traditionally, families in the area had as many as 15 or 20 cows of their own. These cows were particularly dependent on the forest leaves for fodder and bedding. The fewer leaves a tree has, the less able it is to photosynthesise properly. Today, there are far fewer cows in the area and so fodder use has come down by a multiple of four or five in the last 10 years. The market has come to Kumaon – once an isolated area – and artificial substitutes for fodder are now available to buy locally, with NGOs providing subsidies for this. \n\n But while the pressure on the forest to provide fodder has come down, the need for it to provide fuel has gone up. This is in the Himalayan foothills, after all, and it gets cold in winter. There is little central heating and so a serious amount of wood is needed for fires to heat houses and light stoves. Where extended families once lived together, with grandparents, parents and children all under one roof, now the nuclear family is becoming the norm, meaning that requirement for fuel has gone up. And if the people of Kumaon are to use the forest less, they need compensation, or they will have no fire to warm them through the winter months. Substitutes for wood are available but are unaffordable for most. \n\n So the challenge for this project mirrors the challenge faced by climate change scientists and policymakers across the world: how can you reduce fossil fuel emissions and maintain and improve carbon sinks without disrupting or destroying the lives of local people, many of whom will be those most affected by climate change? \n\n Last March, US science agency the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) released figures that showed record concentrations of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere, at over 400 parts per million (ppm). These levels are unprecedented in over a million years and have caused over one degree of warming. The level considered 'safe' – 350 ppm – was exceeded nearly three decades ago. Today's carbon concentrations represent a more than 40 per cent increase on those found in the atmosphere in the middle of the 18th century, before the beginning of the industrial revolution.\nForests are an important part of this increase. They are, along with the planet's oceans, one of two major carbon sinks. Deforestation puts carbon into the atmosphere while at the same time removing that sink. \"You can say that one quarter of this increase in carbon concentrations since the 18th century has been caused by deforestation,\" says Corinne Le Quéré, author of the Third, Fourth and Fifth Assessments of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) and a professor of climate change science and policy at the University of East Anglia. \n\n In 2014, the IPCC found that 11 per cent of global greenhouse gas emissions were caused by forestry and other land use. Other sources claim this figure is anything up to 30 per cent. While Le Quéré points out that the effect of deforestation was more pronounced in the 18th and 19th centuries, when it was a key driver in the process of industrialisation, she emphasises the ongoing importance of forests in the fight for a better environment. \n\n \"We have very big ambitions to limit climate change well below two degrees… In terms of delivering a policy to achieve this, you absolutely need to have your forest in place and you absolutely need to tackle deforestation, because you cannot reach that level of climate stabilisation without it. Reforestation and afforestation is one of the best ways to take CO2 out of the atmosphere and forests have so many additional benefits for cleaning the air, cleaning the water, and so on.\"\nTo begin working out how people in the Himalayan foothills might be reimbursed for preserving the forest, Amogh Rai and his colleagues need to find out how much carbon they are actually taking in. \"We don't know how much carbon these forests are sequestering,\" says Rai. \"If you are talking about the forest as a sink for carbon, you need to figure out how much carbon this place is storing, versus how much it is producing. And for that you need to go back to the basics of forestry. You need to figure it out by laying ecological plots measuring 400 metres squared in different areas, at different altitudes and in different disturbance gradients.\" \n\n Rai started working on the project in March 2014. He grew up in Delhi and was something of a tech prodigy. But as his career was advancing at the kind of rate that would leave most people sick with jealousy, he also felt something akin to the call of the wild. More intellectually curious than professionally ambitious, he enrolled at Dr BR Ambedkar University as a master's student and, in December 2013, travelled to Kumaon to work on his dissertation, which was on a tree called\nMyrica esculenta\n, known locally as\nkafal\n. \n\n \"I love the forest because it is a place of silence and beauty,\" he says. \"Also, it is one of the last places of refuge from strident urbanisation. A typical city kid reaction to noise, and tempo of life, I suppose.\" Rai's boss at CEDAR, Rajesh Thadani, a Yale-educated forest ecologist in his forties, is equally romantic about his attachment to the forest, quoting Thoreau to me: \"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived.\" It's not hard to imagine both men communing with woodland spirits. \n\n Kumaon's unique elements appealed to Rai. The area has two main types of oak tree, a number of pines, rhododendrons, cedars and maples. There are leopards, porcupines, wild boars, a variety of snakes and rodents, and 200 species of butterfly. The forests grow down hillsides into valleys and up along plateaus. \n\n There are now 40 forest plots in Kumaon, and the hope is that in the next couple of years that total will rise to 100. One night, I join Amogh Rai for dinner at the house of one of his two field assistants, Narendra. \n\n Now in his forties, Narendra is from Kumaon and has three small children. He doesn’t earn much but he is given supplementary income when he needs it and owns a small amount of land in the area. In a room furnished only with a single bed, we sit on the floor and eat food grown in the local fields: daikon, tomatoes sprinkled with marijuana (\"Yes, dude, welcome to the Himalayas,\" laughs Rai), nettles, smoked chilli and bread. Having left school at 17, Narendra tells me he worked in a Nestlé factory and then as a mechanic, before realising that he'd rather be back in the rural village he came from. Haldwani, the nearby town he was working in, was too hot and he just loved the forest too much. \n\n This was in the 1990s, when Kumaon was a particularly remote part of the country. It still is, comparatively speaking, but the arrival of mobile phones, satellite technology and the expansion of the road network has changed the area. The population has grown and rich professionals from the city have begun to build second homes in Kumaon, drawn to the area, like the British before them, by the promise of peace and tranquillity in the mountains, by the chance to get away from it all. \n\n Narendra remembers that, in these times, when far more people kept cattle, the forest was a place almost everyone used and understood. \"We used to go out in a throng and bring trees down to use the leaves for manure, which is also used as a bedding for cattle,\" he says. \"The animals would piss and shit on it and then it was used as manure.\" Today, keeping cattle has become economically unviable and artificial fertiliser can be bought at the market. As a result, fewer people use and understand the forest. \n\n \"There is a strong relationship between the people and the forest in the area but it has weakened, for good and for bad,\" Rajesh Thadani, who also worked closely with Narendra, tells me. Good because the forest is less disturbed, bad because caring for the forest now comes less naturally. \"People don't quite have the same religious and cultural attachment to it. Cattle became unprofitable. The quality of schools hasn't got better but most children now go to school, so they don't want to do agricultural work when they leave… If you don't feel a sense of ownership and belonging, you are less likely to do things. The expectation of money has arrived. The forest has become an externality.\"  \n\n There is a conflict and a contradiction here: local people may be paid to preserve the forest by using it less, but using the forest less will weaken their ties to it, thus making the desire to preserve it less urgent. It's the kind of dilemma globalised industrial capitalism throws up everywhere. The system itself has wreaked havoc on the environment, but in a structure where even people in remote areas often aspire to a certain kind of lifestyle and expect to be paid for things they might once have done for free as part of the collective harmony of a community, the monetising of things like forest maintenance has come to be seen as a potential solution. \n\n If a value is put on the forest, then, in a market-driven world, local communities will be able to better resist, for example, the planned construction of a massive hotel in an undisturbed patch of woodland. Right now, Rai argues, \"you only have aesthetic reasons, but we live and operate in a world that has a different set of values. For the first time, you can give a number to the value of a forest. It becomes a place that is [about] more than wondrous beasts.\"  \n\n This expectation of money both jars with and is in keeping with Kumaon's past. When Rajesh Thadani first came to the area in the 90s, he was strongly influenced by Ramachandra Guha's book The Unquiet Woods, a short history of the Chipko movement published in 1990. A wonderful writer, Guha remains one of India's most influential thinkers on environmental and social issues. His and Joan Martinez-Alier's distinction between the 'full-stomach' environmentalism of the north and the 'empty-belly' environmentalism of the global south strikes a chord in Kumaon. There is a big difference between chopping down some trees in a forest to keep yourself warm in the Himalayan winter, and laying waste to the Amazon in the name of the fast food industry. \n\n The Chipko movement was a phenomenon in 1970s India, an organised resistance to the destruction of forests across the country. The villagers who formed it were actual tree huggers: the word Chipko means 'embrace'. In one incident, women in the Alaknanda valley, responding to the Indian government's decision to grant a plot of forest land to a sporting goods company, formed a human ring around the trees, preventing the men from cutting them down. \n\n In Kumaon, there is a strong history of this kind of resistance to exploitation by powerful forces. As Guha and the political scientist Arun Agrawal have pointed out, the villagers of the region did not take the impositions of the British Raj lying down. The 'empty-belly' environmentalism of India awakened early, a fierce reaction to the iniquitous and destructive development processes foisted on the country by the imperial power. \n\n From the late 19th century into the 20th, the Raj introduced legislation that reduced the rights of local people to use their forests. From 1916 to 1921, villagers in Kumaon set hundreds of forest fires in protest against such legislation. They depended on forests for firewood for heating and cooking, manure for fields and fodder for livestock. This demand was seen as running contrary to the needs of the British, who wanted to carve up the forests of Kumaon to create railway sleepers. \n\n This kind of practice didn't end with the Raj. \"The government department once went on a rampage and planted cypresses all over the place,\" Amogh Rai says, laughing at the wasteful absurdity of the idea. \"They planted them because someone who is a bureaucrat would have gone to England and thought, 'Oh, beautiful trees, let's plonk them up there.' \n\n But the cypress doesn't bear fruit, its wood is rotten when it comes to burning, its leaves are spindly so you can't feed it to cattle. All in all, it's a shitty tree.\" \n\n British officials used the excuse that local practices were environmentally destructive to defend the regulation of vast areas of forest. Nearly half the land in Kumaon was taken over by the forest department which, by the beginning of the 20th century, was endeavouring to protect land from fire as well as clamp down on cattle grazing and fodder harvests. In response to the regulations and reclassifications landing on them, villagers broke the rules. Fodder and fuel was extracted, livestock was grazed. British forest officers were fed misinformation like a fire is fed wood. \n\n Protests became more common and led to massive demonstrations in the second decade of the 20th century. These together with forest fires intersected with outrage at the coolie system of forced labour extraction, under which villagers were obliged to work for the colonial administration. In 1922, the forest department's annual report conceded that local campaigning had led to the breakdown of British control of the forests. The Kumaon Forest Grievances Committee recommended the establishment of forest councils that, following the return of the land to the people, would manage forests belonging to the villages. \n\n In 1931, the Forest Council Rules made this recommendation a formal reality and 3,000 elected forest councils –\nVan Panchayats\n– were created to manage the forests of Kumaon. Villagers could once again use their land the way they saw fit, free from the commercial priorities of the colonial government. This new plan to preserve the forests of the region in the 21st century is also being met with accusations of imperialism. \n\n A handful of local NGOs give the impression that the government is \"selling up the mountains\". Though it is a plan driven by Indians rather than the British, it can still be seen by Kumaonis as coming from outside and on high, an imperialistic scam dreamed up \"for their own good\". Money, while desired, also generates suspicion. This is exacerbated by the fact that, two years ago, the Uttarakhand state government was given about $20m by the Japanese government and industry, which have a vested interest in promoting forestry around the globe. \n\n No one seems to be sure what has happened to this money. There is a timber mafia in the region that is generous to local politicians, many of whom are widely believed to be corrupt. Since I left the area at the end of last year, a drought has resulted in a series of forest fires, which have not been dealt with properly.\nIt is hoped that the\nVan Panchayats\n– the forest councils – will be immune to the corruption found in local government and that they could hold the key to any scheme that seeks to compensate local people for maintaining the forest. These established councils can link villages to the money made available for forest maintenance. A tripartite system involving the Van Panchayats, the NGOs and the government could then be set up to make sure the money falls into the right hands. \n\n Unlike carbon trading schemes or high profile incentive programmes like REDD and REDD+, the system for compensation envisaged in Kumaon would not be open to foreign tampering or carbon offsetting, though the question of the Japanese money complicates matters. \n\n \"In developing economies, green investment has not gained any worthwhile traction,\" says Rai. \"In developed countries without much ecological diversity, an understanding of their importance is an important driver in decisions to invest in research in the developing world. So, it is beneficial. The problem arises when these 'investments' get turned into market-oriented solutions. So yes, when companies in Germany 'gift' improved cookstoves in Tanzania and earn carbon credit, it is a problem.\" \n\n This 'gifting' is not what anyone has in mind for the Himalayan foothills. The idea is to create something fairly simple that can be executed neatly across a spectrum. A paper will be submitted to the Department of Science and Technology and then a conversation about incentive structures for the local community will begin, using the carbon sequestration data as a basis for what should be offered.\nThere are fears about corruption; and the dispersal of money remains a sketchy and murky affair but, as Rai says, \"the idea is that you at least need to get this thing started. If you don't pay people enough to maintain the forest, give me two reasons why they should keep the forests as they are, so that you or I could come and enjoy them? Because they are the ones who have to face the winters here, they are the ones who have to go and work in the forests here.\" Consultations are ongoing with villagers, various NGOs and the forest department.\nOnce upon a time, the strong social system – the ecologically minded functioning of the rural villages extolled by Gandhi – and dependence on the forest meant the environment was preserved. Now, these things are changing fairly rapidly. The whole idea of working as a social group is getting lost and so, Rai argues, \"incentives are going to play a larger role. I've had conversations with people where they've said, 'The forests are great, we want to protect them but we don't have any money.' So it's not just about giving them an incentive to protect the forest, it's that they need money to protect the forest.\" \n\n With the data now collected, allometric equations will determine how much carbon is sequestered in the forests. This information will then be used to put an economic value on the various plots, which will translate into payments made to local communities through the forest councils. This money could begin to pour in within the year. \n\n During my time in Kumaon, the Paris Climate Change Conference takes place. When I ask Rajesh Thadani how CEDAR's project fits into the bigger picture, he says: \"Carbon sinks are important and a good mitigation measure – but [they] would be effective only in conjunction with other measures.\" \n\n I watch some of the news coverage from Paris with Rai. There is so much to be done, so many vested interests to vanquish. \"I find it extremely political,\" Rai says. \"Climate change talks are an interesting window into how the world that doesn't actually work on scientific principles or doesn't understand the science behind global warming – which is an extremely complicated science – operates. I find it interesting, working in a forest over here, to hear about these things; interesting and funny.\" As the world fights over how best to tackle climate change – over how, more importantly, to get any of the world's big polluters to do anything differently – a battle about how this global phenomenon should be understood and dealt with takes place in the foothills of the Himalayas. \n\n \"Darkly funny?\" I ask Rai for his assessment.  \n\n \"Yeah, gallows humour.\"\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "How does Rai feel about climate change talks?", "question_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE_1", "options": ["All of these answers are true", "They're funny", "They're frustrating", "They're disconnected"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is the Japanese $20 million for?", "question_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE_2", "options": ["Climate change research", "Promoting forestry", "No one knows", "Combatting forest fires"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which of the following is NOT a reason that the Himalayan forests have changed in the past 20 years?", "question_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE_3", "options": ["Industrial Revolution", "Changing family systems", "Population increase", "Vacation homes"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the increased number of students in classrooms cause?", "question_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE_4", "options": ["More scientists", "Better education", "Disconnection from the forest", "Increased awareness"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are carbon sinks important?", "question_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE_5", "options": ["They compensate for carbon creation elsewhere in the world", "They are a great place to wash your hands", "They aren't", "They are immune to the effects of global warming"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Why did Narendra work in a Nestle factory?", "question_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE_6", "options": ["He wanted to be a manager", "He was tired of the forest", "Opportunities to make money for villagers is limited", "He loves chocolate"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0012", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author likely feel about global capitalism?", "question_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE_7", "options": ["He believes it sacrifices the environment for higher quality of life for some people", "It is impossible to know from the article", "He thinks it will bring valuable money into the fight against climate change", "He believes it is an evil system"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is ironic about the money locals receive to preserve the forest?", "question_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE_8", "options": ["There is nothing ironic about the money", "It is a system that creates less interest in preserving the forest", "They steal the money and ignore the requirements", "They use the money to destroy the forest"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the least valuable native tree in Kumaon?", "question_unique_id": "99915_WLTSM0QE_9", "options": ["Cedars", "We do not know from the article", "Nettles", "Cypress"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/margins/carbon-sink-himalayas", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99919", "set_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "Women on the march", "year": 2017, "author": "Geraldine Bedell", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "Women on the march\nIn the last weekend of November, Sophie Walker took to the stage at the Women's Equality Party's first conference to make her leader's speech and, within a few minutes, began weeping. She cried as she recounted the difficulties of being a single parent trying to access services for her autistic daughter: \"Finding out that no one was interested, no one cared, no one welcomed her as person who lived differently.\" \n\n This wasn't just a stray tear, brushed away. Walker (pictured above) seemed to be struggling to go on. The conference held its breath. I gripped the sides of my chair in a mixture of sympathy and embarrassment, thinking this wasn't going to go down well in the media, that she would be mocked for feebleness; what kind of leader, faced with an audience of hundreds, stands in front of them and cries at life's defeats? \n\n It was only afterwards that it occurred to me that this had been one of the most significant, and, yes, persuasive moments of the entire event. Walker could hardly have made her point – that her daughter's diagnosis had punctured her own privilege as a white, university-educated journalist (and tall and beautiful, which she did not say but which is nevertheless probably relevant) – more tellingly. Her tears powerfully conveyed her devastation at feeling her child was destined, as she put it, either to be invisible or to be exposed, and the helplessness this induced.\nThe Women's Equality party conference was awash with talk about women 'doing politics differently'. The phrase was trotted out repeatedly, although it wasn't entirely clear what it actually meant. This week, as hundreds of thousands of women prepare to march on Washington on Saturday following the inauguration of Donald Trump (with marches in 200 other US cities and more than 50 others worldwide, including across the UK and in London, where Sophie Walker will be one of the speakers) this seems a good moment to try to pin down whether there is anything new about 21st-century women's activism and, if so, what it is. \n\n There are two ways in which women might potentially 'do politics differently': policy, and practice. As far as the former is concerned, the Women's Equality party is promoting broad areas of policy capable of attracting women from across the traditional political spectrum, including closing the gender pay gap, subsidising childcare, ending violence against women, and equal representation in business, politics and the media. Detail and delivery would be more fraught, but, for now, these are things most women can get behind. Both Nicky Morgan, former Conservative Education Secretary, and Sal Brinton, President of the Liberal Democrats, spoke at the conference. \n\n It is in its practice, though, that women's activism has real potential to enlarge our understanding of what it means to be political. \n\n Among the variety of reasons for Brexit and Trump, rage was right up there. Emotion is back in fashion. The Brexiters and Trump eschewed rational arguments in favour of pleas to feeling. Trump is President of Emotions. (Sad!) Yet we are ill-equipped to understand this outbreak of feeling, as Pankaj Mishra argues in his forthcoming book, The Age of Anger, because our dominant intellectual concepts are incapable of comprehending the role of emotion in politics. \n\n Since the Enlightenment, Mishra argues, our political thinking has been ever more tightly gripped by materialist, mechanistic premises – for example by the idea that \"humans are essentially rational and motivated by the pursuit of their own interests; that they principally act to maximise personal happiness, rather than on the basis of fear, anger and resentment.\"\nHomo economicus\n, he says, \"views the market as the ideal form of human interaction and venerates technological progress and the growth of GDP. All of this is part of the rigid contemporary belief that what counts is only what can be counted and that what cannot be counted – subjective emotions – therefore does not.\" There is no room in this world view for more complex motivations: vanity, say, or the fear of humiliation.\nHow, then, to comprehend, let alone articulate, the vulnerability, the shame, the loss of identity created by inequality, job losses and purposeless communities? The roiling emotions engendered by capitalism's failure to confer the promised general prosperity cannot be understood when emotion is a thing men are meant to contain, then repudiate. Strongmen leaders do not stand in front of their political parties and weep about their daughters. That sort of thing is for losers. Male valour is about not showing emotional distress. (This is very deeply embedded in our culture: \"Thy tears are womanish,\" Shakespeare's Friar Lawrence scolds Romeo, although Romeo has every right to be upset, because he has just killed a man, who was Juliet's cousin.)\nEmotion is stigmatised as belonging to lesser, non-normative groups. Women are hysterical. Black men are hypersexual. Homosexuals are unreliably camp. There is no option for the would-be winners, competing to maximise their self-interest, to respond to injury by saying,  \"Please, that's painful!\" – still less by weeping. \n\n The emotion is there, nevertheless, metastasising. Since men without the means to express vulnerability cannot mourn frankly their loss of identity as a provider (let alone their disorientation when other groups threaten to undermine their unearned sense of superiority), injured masculinity must disguise itself in images of strength, mastery, honour. Trump himself is a personification of this phenomenon, as Laurie Penny has observed: \"At once an emblem of violent, impenetrable masculinity – the nasally-rigid, iron-hearted business Svengali determined to slap America until it stops snivelling – and a byword for hysterical sensitivity, a wailing man-baby with a hair-trigger temper.\"\nAll this emotion-with-nowhere-to-go was seized on by the Trump and Brexit campaigns. They found a way to channel it, allowing electorates to associate themselves with winning, to bray 'losers' at people they didn't like. It turned out not to matter very much what they were winning at or where it took them. Getting Trump into the White House, like Brexit, was an end in itself, a way of displacing pain, therapeutic. \n\n It was also deeply reactionary. The hideous inequalities of global capitalism being what they are, it is hard for the 99 per cent to conceive of themselves becoming winners as things stand – so Trump and Brexit offered instead a return to fantasies of the past. The iconography of Brexit has its roots in Britain's resistance to the Nazis (conveniently overlooking small things like imperial reach and American intervention), while the Trump campaign's \"make America great again\" offered still more explicit nostalgia for a time when the nation had a common destiny, with white men front and centre. \n\n What women's activism might bring to politics is a different sensibility, one that acknowledges that emotions are inevitable, messy – and necessary. There is a hole in politics where opposition used to be and social democracy used to flourish. That is largely because rational arguments, facts, expertise, seem to bear too little relation to the way that many people feel about the world. The liberals' arguments seem to be conducted in a kind of parallel universe, of interest only to those who thrive there. When called to articulate a vision for Britain in Europe, the best Remainers could manage was an abstract account of financial penalties if the electorate didn't do as it was told – which, since it never connected, was easily dismissed as 'Project Fear'. \n\n People have not, in fact, lost interest in truth. But first and foremost, they know the truth of their emotional relationship to the world. Liberals and social democrats currently have no way of addressing this. A lot of the time, they appear to be talking gobbledygook. \n\n The populist right has found an emotive way to engage electorates by channelling their feelings, often displacing them onto someone else in the process. If you cannot look at yourself in the mirror – because anxiousness makes you feel weak and to be weak is to be a failed human being – you are prey to finding someone else to blame for your loss of dignity. In a world of competition, the only way to self-esteem is to be a winner. And someone else must therefore become the loser.\nThere is an alternative: a politics that begins with the notion that emotions do not have to be repressed or deformed into bigotry and abuse. An understanding of feelings that does not equate weakness with shame, and compassion with maladaptive weakness, is much more likely to suggest solutions than one that denies our emotional lives, most of what makes us human.\nWhen people admit to their emotions, they call for empathy; they can galvanise action. \"And the government's name for a single mother raising two children and caring for her elderly father?\" Sophie Walker asked, in her conference speech, promptly supplying the (clearly absurd) answer: 'Economically inactive'. Walker's single mother is of no importance in the Trump/Farage fantasy land of winning, greatness, the deal, othering the outsider. The unpaid work of caring is about love; it entails vulnerability, which immediately makes it suspect in a world of winning and losing, in which the only permissible emotions are triumph and mocking schadenfreude. \n\n The prevailing political mood of the moment is anxiety. \"To live a modern life anywhere in the world today,\" Mark Lilla wrote recently in the New York Times, \"subject to perpetual social and technological transformation, is to experience the psychological equivalent of permanent revolution. Anxiety in the face of this process is now a universal experience, which is why reactionary ideas attract adherents around the world who share little except their sense of historical betrayal.\" \n\n When liberals make pious noises about understanding the anxiety of constituents who have turned away from them, their solution often seems to entail taking on some of the bigotry. You don't have to look very far to find those who believe that feminism is inadequate to the task of humanising politics because it is, in fact, part of the problem. Lilla, in another piece in the New York Times, and Simon Jenkins, in the Guardian, have each argued that the policing of language and behaviour – which some call courtesy – has provoked a backlash and so must bear some of the blame for populism. The logical extension of this argument is that feminists, along with Black Lives Matter and LGBTQ activists and other assorted 'snowflakes', need to take a step back and think about just how much damage they're doing.\nThe problem is that this assumes white men's lives are neutral territory around which the common interest can coalesce. It is, in other words, male identity politics. \"There has been a massive backlash by white men,\" Sophie Walker told me, at the WE party headquarters in Bermondsey, a few weeks after the conference speech. \"We are living out the identity politics of the straight white man right now.\" \n\n If we are not to face a breakdown to essentialist tribal identities of gender and race, people have to find a way of articulating feelings of distress in a way that doesn't humiliate them. If men cannot face their anxiety, it will be denied, and then absolutely nothing will be done to alleviate it; there will be a privatisation of misery. There are structural reasons for the explosion of mental health disorders in advanced economies, for the opiate addiction in the rustbelt, the epidemic of distress among young people, other sorts of self-harm. But if we can't acknowledge the underlying dread and helplessness that people experience in the face of a world controlled by global finance capital and incomprehensible algorithms, individuals will continue to be stigmatised as failing. Either you will be a winner, an entrepreneurial individual competing freely in the market, deflecting your distress by manning up, lashing out; or your inchoate feelings of desperation will be – sorry – your problem, mate. \n\n A female sensibility in politics is not, it probably needs saying, antithetical to reason, even though feeling and reason are often posited as opposites. Plato contrasted the wild horse of passion and the wise charioteer of reason (his point being, of course, that they needed each other). Jane Austen would have had no plots without the frequent difficulty human beings have in accommodating desire and wisdom: success, as she repeatedly shows, lies in the reconciliation of sense and sensibility. Such an accommodation requires self-examination, generosity of spirit, fidelity to self, and hard thinking. But first and foremost, it takes an honesty about feeling. \n\n I used to get mildly irritated when feminists focused too hard on female representation, when there seemed so many other pressing things to talk about, as if vaginas alone made a difference. And it is true that there is a glass-ceiling feminism that takes little heed of women for whom race, class, disability and/or sexuality intersect to intensify and redouble gender discrimination. But sheer numbers of women do make a difference. Nicky Morgan notes that women in parliament are more inclined to collaborate across party than men. Sal Brinton, who has had a lifetime of being a lone woman on decision-making bodies, says that when women get to 40 per cent in a meeting or on a board, the language changes. There's a different way of conducting business, a different sense of how to move things on. In a hall overwhelmingly dominated by women, it is possible for a leader to cry and everyone to be on her side. For no one to think (after a moment of adjustment from unreconstructed be-more-like-a-man feminists like me) that you're weak. \n\n Over the coming months and years, progressives are going to have to grapple with what kind of emotional appeal they can make beyond the populists' exploitative deformation of feeling. The task will be to retrieve emotion from its current co-option into a minatory, ultimately self-defeating way of looking at the world.  \n\n Women are not (of course) alone in identifying the need for soul in politics. Robert Musil and Stephen Toulmin, among others, have identified that there was a highly rationalistic and scientific turn in Enlightenment thinking after Descartes and Newton. Had the Enlightenment developed instead out of the vision of Montaigne, or Shakespeare, the thinking goes, it would have made more room for kindness, and would have given us a fuller, more complex and nuanced account of human experience. In the current destabilised times, people are returning to their ideas. \n\n Perhaps women's activism can give us all a way into reconnecting with a different, more generous apprehension of the Enlightenment. By caring about caring, for example – not as an abstract problem that acts as a brake on the economy, but because caring is about love, family, community, humanity. By reminding men that it is possible to acknowledge pain and survive, and then get stronger. As the political ground shifts under our feet and old allegiances and responses turn out to be no use to us, we are going to need to find a different language of politics. And the language of women is where we should start.\nTop image: Sophie Walker, leader of the Women's Equality Party, speaking at the party's first annual conference, in Manchester, November 2016 (Christopher Furlong/Getty Images)\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "Which word least describes Sophie Walker?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_1", "options": ["passionate", "intelligent", "manipulative", "privileged"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why was Sophie Walker's speech described at the beginning?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_2", "options": ["to show the danger of using emotions in politics", "to make the reader sympathetic towards female politicians", "to show the reader how the author feels about the topic", "to give an example to support the main idea of the passage"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the best summary for emotions described in this passage?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_3", "options": ["females are using more emotions in politics, but males are still staying rational", "emotions are being used more in politics than they used to", "emotions are too stereotyped to be valid in politics", "emotions are too powerful and shouldn't be involved in politics"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author feel about Brexit?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_4", "options": ["it would have gone differently if people would have been more logical", "it was backed by research and an iconic move", "it was a turning point for Britain", "emotional persuasion was used appropriately to produce the best outcome"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which statement would the author most likely agree with?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_5", "options": ["politicians on both sides are learning how to use emotions to their advantage", "feminists have been using emotions to make positive changes for years", "emotions tend to make people look weak or angry, so they should stay out of the political realm", "emotions are complicated but can be advantageous when expressed properly"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who has best used emotion to make positive changes?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_6", "options": ["Jane Austen", "Simon Jenkins", "Donald Trump", "Nicky Morgan"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What isn't a problem happening because people don't face their emotions?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_7", "options": ["increasing mental health disorders", "people are finding unhealthy ways to solve problems", "women and minorities are being ignored more often", "blame gets pushed onto others"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What doesn't the author want to see in politics?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_8", "options": ["people to be honest and willing to collaborate", "a change to how people view politics", "more soul and compassion", "more \"be-more-like-a-man feminists\""], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What is the author's purpose for writing this?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_9", "options": ["to inform people of what happened in the last few years of politics", "to inform people of the changing political world", "to persuade people to be more emotional", "to persuade people to look at politics differently"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What doesn't the author want you to believe?", "question_unique_id": "99919_N8V2WS3L_10", "options": ["there needs to be a balance of reason and feeling in politics", "the idea of incorporating emotion into politics is a new, brilliant idea", "all politicians need to be more caring", "more women are needed to improve politics"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0003", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0014", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/society/can-women-do-politics-differently", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99930", "set_unique_id": "99930_89JAO8MF", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-openaccess", "title": "Open Access: Casualties", "year": 2019, "author": "Peter Suber", "topic": "Open access article", "article": "Open Access: Casualties\nWill a general shift to OA leave casualties?\n                                         \n                                          For example, will rising levels of green OA trigger cancellations of toll-access journals?\nThis question matters for those publishers (not all publishers) who fear the answer is yes and for those activists (not all activists) who hope the answer is yes. So far, unfortunately, it doesn’t have a simple yes-or-no answer, and most discussions replace evidence with fearful or hopeful predictions.\nThe primary drivers of green OA are policies at universities and funding agencies. Remember, all university policies allow publishers to protect themselves at will. (See section 4.1 on policies.) For example, universities with loophole or deposit mandates will not provide green OA when publishers do not allow it. Universities with Harvard-style rights-retention mandates will not provide OA when authors obtain waivers or when publishers require authors to obtain waivers as a condition of publication.\nHence, publishers who worry about the effect of university OA policies on subscriptions have the remedy in their own hands. Faculty needn’t paternalize publishers by voting down OA policies when publishers can protect themselves whenever they see the need to do so. The experience at Harvard since February 2008 is that very few publishers see the need to do so. Fewer than a handful systematically require waivers from Harvard authors.\nThis chapter, then, focuses on the strongest green OA mandates at funding agencies, like the Wellcome Trust and NIH, which allow no opt-outs for publishers or grantees. Will strong green OA policies of that kind trigger cancellations of toll-access journals? Here are 10 parts of any complete answer.\n1. Nobody knows yet how green OA policies will affect journal subscriptions.\nRising levels of green OA may trigger toll-access journal cancellations, or they may not. So far they haven’t.\n2. The evidence from physics is the most relevant.\nPhysics has the highest levels and longest history of green OA. The evidence from physics to date is that high levels of green OA don’t cause journal cancellations. On the contrary, the relationship between arXiv (the OA repository for physics) and toll-access physics journals is more symbiotic than antagonistic.\nPhysicists have been self-archiving since 1991, far longer than in any other field. In some subfields, such as particle physics, the rate of OA archiving approaches 100 percent, far higher than in any other field. If high-volume green OA caused journal cancellations, we’d see the effect first in physics. But it hasn’t happened. Two leading publishers of physics journals, the American Physical Society (APS) and Institute of Physics (IOP), have publicly acknowledged that they’ve seen no cancellations attributable to OA archiving. In fact, the APS and IOP have not only made peace with arXiv but now accept submissions from it and even host their own mirrors of it.\n3. Other fields may not behave like physics.\nWe won’t know more until the levels of green OA in other fields approach those in physics.\nIt would definitely help to understand why the experience in physics has gone as it has and how far it might predict the experience in other fields. But so far it’s fair to say that we don’t know all the variables and that publishers who oppose green OA mandates are not among those showing a serious interest in them. When publisher lobbyists argue that high-volume green OA will undermine toll-access journal subscriptions, they don’t offer evidence, don’t acknowledge the countervailing evidence from physics, don’t rebut the evidence from physics, and don’t qualify their own conclusions in light of it. They would act more like scientific publishers if they acknowledged the evidence from physics and then argued, as well as they could, either that the experience in physics will change or that fields other than physics will have a different experience.\nAn October 2004 editorial in\nThe Lancet\n(an Elsevier journal) called on the publishing lobby to do better. “[A]s editors of a journal that publishes research funded by the NIH, we disagree with [Association of American Publishers President Patricia Schroeder’s] central claim. Widening access to research [through green OA mandates] is unlikely to bring the edifice of scientific publishing crashing down. Schroeder provides no evidence that it would do so; she merely asserts the threat. This style of rebuttal will not do. . . .”\nFor more than eight years, green OA mandates have applied to research in many fields outside physics. These mandates are natural experiments and we’re still monitoring their effects. At Congressional hearings in 2008 and 2010, legislators asked publishers directly whether green OA was triggering cancellations. In both cases, publishers pointed to decreased downloads but not to increased cancellations.\n4. There is evidence that green OA decreases downloads from publishers’ web sites.\nWhen users know about OA and toll-access editions of the same article, many will prefer to click through to the OA edition, either because they aren’t affiliated with a subscribing institution or because authentication is a hassle. Moreover, when users find an OA edition, most stop looking. But decreased downloads are not the same thing as decreased or canceled subscriptions.\nMoreover, decreased downloads of toll-access editions from publisher web sites are not the same thing as decreased downloads overall. No one suggests that green OA leads to decreased overall downloads, that is, fewer readers and less reading. On the contrary, the same evidence suggesting that OA increases citation impact also suggests that it increases readers and reading.\n5. Most publishers voluntarily permit green OA.\nSupplementing the natural experiments of green OA mandates are the natural experiments of publishers who voluntarily permit green OA. The Nature Publishing Group is more conservative than most toll-access publishers by requiring a six-month embargo on green OA, but more progressive than most by positively encouraging green OA. NPG reported the latest results of its multidisciplinary natural experiment in January 2011: “We have, to date, found author self-archiving compatible with subscription business models, and so we have been actively encouraging self-archiving since 2005.”\nThis or something similar to it must be the experience of the majority of toll-access publishers who voluntarily permit green OA. Even if they don’t actively encourage green OA, most permit it without embargo. If they found that it triggered cancellations, they would stop.\n6. Green OA mandates leave standing at least four library incentives to maintain their subscriptions to toll-access journals.\nEven the strongest no-loophole, no-waiver policies preserve incentives to maintain toll-access journal subscriptions.\nFirst, all funder OA mandates include an embargo period to protect publishers. For example, the OA mandates at the Research Councils UK allow an embargo of up to six months after publication. The NIH allows an embargo of up to twelve months. Libraries wanting to provide immediate access will still have an incentive to subscribe.\nSecond, all funder OA mandates apply to the final version of the author’s peer-reviewed manuscript, not to the published version. If the journal provides copyediting after peer review, then the policies do not apply to the copyedited version, let alone to the formatted, paginated published edition. Libraries wanting to provide access to copyedited published editions will still have an incentive to subscribe.\nThe purpose of these two policy provisions is precisely to protect publishers against cancellations. They are deliberate concessions to publishers, adopted voluntarily by funding agencies as compromises with the public interest in immediate OA to the best editions. When we put the two together, we see that funder-mandated OA copies of peer-reviewed manuscripts won’t compete with toll-access copies of the published editions for six to twelve months, and there will never be OA copies of the more desirable published editions unless publishers voluntarily allow them. Publishers retain life-of-copyright exclusivity on the published editions. Even if OA archiving does eventually erode subscriptions outside physics, publishers have longer and better protection from these effects than their lobbyists ever acknowledge.\nThird, funder OA mandates only apply to research articles, not to the many other kinds of content published in scholarly journals, such as letters, editorials, review articles, book reviews, announcements, news, conference information, and so on. Libraries wanting to provide access to these other kinds of content will still have an incentive to subscribe.\nFourth, funder OA mandates only apply to articles arising from research funded by the mandating agency. Very few journals publish nothing but articles from a single funder, or even from a set of funders all of whom have OA mandates. Libraries wanting to provide access to all the research articles in a journal, regardless of the sources of funding, will still have an incentive to subscribe. This incentive will weaken as more and more funders adopt OA mandates, but we’re very far from universal funder mandates. As we get closer, unfunded research will still fall outside this category and the three other incentives above will still stand.\nThe Association of College and Research Libraries addressed subscription incentives in a 2004 open letter on the NIH policy: “We wish to emphasize, above all, that academic libraries will not cancel journal subscriptions as a result of this plan. . . . Even if libraries wished to consider the availability of NIH-funded articles when making journal cancellation decisions, they would have no reasonable way of determining what articles in specific journals would become openly accessible after the embargo period.”\n7. Some studies bear on the question of whether increased OA archiving will increase journal cancellations.\nIn a 2006 study from the Publishing Research Consortium (PRC), Chris Beckett and Simon Inger asked 400 librarians about the relative weight of different factors in their decisions to cancel subscriptions. Other things being equal, the librarians preferred free content to priced content and short embargoes to longer ones. Publishers interpret this to mean that the rise of OA archiving will cause cancellations. The chief flaw with the study is its artificiality. For example, the survey did not ask about specific journals by name but only about resources with abstractly stipulated levels of quality. It also disregarded faculty input on cancellation decisions when all librarians acknowledge that faculty input is decisive. The result was a study of hypothetical preferences, not actual cancellation decisions.\nA less hypothetical study was commissioned by publishers themselves in the same year. From the summary:\nThe three most important factors used to determine journals for cancellation, in declining order of importance, are that the faculty no longer require it . . . , usage and price. Next, availability of the content via open access (OA) archives and availability via aggregators were ranked equal fourth, but some way behind the first three factors. The journal’s impact factor and availability via delayed OA were ranked relatively unimportant. . . . With regard to OA archives, there was a great deal of support for the idea that they would not directly impact journal subscriptions.\nIn short, toll-access journals have more to fear from their own price increases than from rising levels of green OA. Publishers who keep raising their prices aggravate the access problem for researchers and aggravate the sustainability problem for themselves. If the same publishers blame green OA and lobby against green OA policies, then they obstruct the solution for researchers and do very little to improve their own sustainability.\n8. OA may increase submissions and subscriptions.\nSome subscription journals have found that OA after an embargo period, even a very short one like two months, actually increases submissions and subscriptions. For example, this was the experience of the American Society for Cell Biology and its journal,\nMolecular Biology of the Cell.\nMedknow saw its submissions and subscriptions increase when it began offering unembargoed full-text editions of its journals alongside its toll-access print journals.\n \n                                          Hindawi Publishing saw its submissions rise steadily after it converted all its peer-reviewed journals to OA in 2007. Looking back on several years of rapidly growing submissions, company founder and CEO Ahmed Hindawi said in January 2010, “It is clear now more than ever that our open access conversion . . . was the best management decision we have taken. . . .”\n9. Some publishers fear that green OA will increase pressure to convert to gold OA.\nSome publishers fear that rising levels of green OA will not only trigger toll-access journal cancellations but also increase pressure to convert to gold OA. (Likewise, some OA activists hope for this outcome.)\nThere are two responses to this two-fold fear. The fear of toll-access cancellations disregards the relevant evidence in points 1–8 above. The fear of conversion to gold OA also disregards relevant evidence, such as Ahmed Hindawi’s testimony above, and the testimony of Springer CEO Derk Haank. In 2008 when Springer bought BioMed Central and became the world’s largest OA publisher, Haank said: “[W]e see open access publishing as a sustainable part of STM publishing, and not an ideological crusade.” (Also see chapter 7 on economics.)\nPublishers inexperienced with gold OA needn’t defer to publishers with more experience, but they should at least study them.\nIn fact, OA publishing might be more sustainable than TA publishing, as toll-access prices and the volume of research both grow faster than library budgets. (See section 2.1 on problems.) If publishers acknowledge that gold OA can be sustainable, and even profitable, and merely wish to avoid making lower margins than they make today, then their objection takes on a very different color. They’re not at risk of insolvency, just reduced profits, and they’re not asserting a need for self-protection, just an entitlement to current levels of profit. There’s no reason for public funding agencies acting in the public interest, or private funders acting for charitable purposes, to compromise their missions in order to satisfy that sense of publisher entitlement.\n10. Green OA policies are justified even if they do create risks for toll-access journals.\nIf we’re only interested in the effect of rising levels of green OA on toll-access publishers, then we can stop at points 1–9. But if we’re interested in good policy, then we must add one more factor: Even if green OA does eventually threaten toll-access journal subscriptions, green OA policies are still justified.\nI won’t elaborate this point here, since it takes us beyond the topic of casualties to the full case for OA, which is spread throughout the rest of the book. But here’s one way to put the debate in perspective: There are good reasons to want to know whether rising levels of green OA will trigger cancellations of toll-access journals, and perhaps even to modify our policies in light of what we learn. But there are no good reasons to put the thriving of incumbent toll-access journals and publishers ahead of the thriving of research itself.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What didn't the information from physics provide us?", "question_unique_id": "99930_89JAO8MF_1", "options": ["multiple successful journals that aren't losing subscriptions", "information regarding the downloads their publications are receiving", "a long history with green OA", "examples of success with green OA"], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which answer does the quote from The Lancet best match up with?", "question_unique_id": "99930_89JAO8MF_2", "options": ["8", "3", "6", "10"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0022", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What do answers 4 and 7 have in common?", "question_unique_id": "99930_89JAO8MF_3", "options": ["they both discuss the importance of keeping publications low-cost", "they both show how people prefer green OA to TA", "the research being done in both doesn't prove that there are canceled subscriptions", "they both discuss research based on libraries"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Which answer doesn't support the idea that green OA isn't likely to cause subscription cancellations?", "question_unique_id": "99930_89JAO8MF_4", "options": ["6", "4", "2", "10"], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "How does the author feel about the librarian study?", "question_unique_id": "99930_89JAO8MF_5", "options": ["it was too abstract and opinionated", "it proves that green OA will decrease subscriptions", "it supports that librarians will not cancel subscriptions", "it supports the need to keep prices of TA down"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "What does the author believe to be the biggest problem publishers should be worried about?", "question_unique_id": "99930_89JAO8MF_6", "options": ["increasing their prices will reduce subscriptions", "Medknow had an increase in subscriptions", "librarians prefer green OA", "longer embargoes make green OA more desirable"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is most likely the author's purpose for writing this?", "question_unique_id": "99930_89JAO8MF_7", "options": ["To inform us of the differences between gold OA, green OA, and TA", "To explain how green OA is improving publishing", "To persuade the reader that green OA is useful", "To explain how universities are handling green OA"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Which most closely describes how the author feels?", "question_unique_id": "99930_89JAO8MF_8", "options": ["Green OA should not be stifled regardless of cost", "Gold OA is more successful than green OA", "If green OA causes too many cancellations, it should be stopped", "TA publishing is going to lose a lot of money because of green OA"], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu/pub/abbd2v1a/release/2", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu"}
{"article_id": "99927", "set_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-openaccess", "title": "Open Access: Policies", "year": 2019, "author": "Peter Suber", "topic": "Open access article", "article": "Open Access: Policies\n4.1 OA Policies at Funding Agencies and Universities\nAuthors control the volume and growth of OA. They decide whether to submit their work to OA journals (gold OA), whether to deposit their work in OA repositories (green OA), and how to use their copyrights. But scholarly authors are still largely unfamiliar with their OA options. It’s pointless to appeal to them as a bloc because they don’t act as a bloc. It’s not hard to persuade or even excite them once we catch their attention, but because they are so anarchical, overworked, and preoccupied, it’s hard to catch their attention.\nFortunately, funding agencies and universities are discovering their own interests in fostering OA. These nonprofit institutions make it their mission to advance research and to make that research as useful and widely available as possible. Their money frees researchers to do their work and avoid the need to tie their income to the popularity of their ideas. Above all, these institutions are in an unparalleled position to influence author decisions.\nToday, more than fifty funding agencies and more than one hundred universities have adopted strong OA policies. Each one depends on the primacy of author decisions.\nOne kind of policy, better than nothing, requests or encourages OA. A stronger kind of policy requires OA or makes it the default for new work. These stronger policies are usually called OA\nmandates\nand I’ll use that term for lack of a better one (but see section 4.2 on how it’s misleading).\nRequest or encouragement policies\nThese merely ask faculty to make their work OA, or recommend OA for their new work. Sometimes they’re called resolutions or pledges rather than policies.\nEncouragement policies can target green and gold OA equally. By contrast, mandates only make sense for green OA, at least today when OA journals constitute only about one-quarter of peer-reviewed journals. A gold OA mandate would put most peer-reviewed journals off-limits and seriously limit faculty freedom to submit their work to the journals of their choice. This problem doesn’t arise for green OA mandates.\nFortunately, this is well understood. There are no gold OA mandates anywhere; all OA mandates are green. Unfortunately, however, many people mistakenly believe that all OA is gold OA and therefore mistake proposed green OA mandates for proposed gold OA mandates and raise objections that would only apply to gold OA mandates. But as more academics understand the green/gold distinction, and understand that well-written green OA mandates are compatible with academic freedom, more institutions are adopting green OA mandates, almost always at the initiative of faculty themselves.\nAt universities, there are roughly three approaches to green OA mandates:\nLoophole mandates\nThese require green OA except when the author’s publisher doesn’t allow it.\nDeposit mandates\nThese require deposit in an OA repository as soon as the article is accepted for publication, but they separate the timing of deposit from the timing of OA. If the author’s publisher doesn’t allow OA, then these policies keep the deposited article dark or non-OA. If the publisher allows OA, immediately or after some embargo, then the deposit becomes OA as soon as the permission kicks in. Because most publishers allow OA on some timetable, this method will provide OA to most new work in due time.\nDeposit mandates generally depend on publisher permission for OA, just like loophole mandates. The difference is that they require deposit even when they can’t obtain permission for OA.\nRights-retention mandates\nThese require deposit in an OA repository as soon as the article is accepted for publication, just like deposit mandates. But they add a method to secure permission for making the deposit OA. There’s more than one way to secure that permission. At the Wellcome Trust and NIH, which pioneered this approach for funding agencies, when grantees publish articles based on their funded research they must retain the nonexclusive right to authorize OA through a repository. At Harvard, which pioneered this approach for universities, faculty members vote to give the university a standing nonexclusive right (among other nonexclusive rights) to make their future work OA through the institutional repository. When faculty publish articles after that, the university already has the needed permission, and faculty needn’t take any special steps to retain rights or negotiate with publishers. Nor need they wait for the publisher’s embargo to run. Harvard-style policies also give faculty a waiver option, allowing them to opt out of the grant of permission to the university, though not out of the deposit requirement. When faculty members obtain waivers for given works, then Harvard-style mandates operate like deposit mandates and the works remain dark deposits until the institution has permission to make them OA.\nMany OA policies are crossbreeds rather than pure types, but all the policies I’ve seen are variations on these four themes.\nFirst note that none of the three “mandates” absolutely requires OA. Loophole mandates allow some work to escape through the loophole. Deposit mandates allow some deposited work to remain dark (non-OA), by following publisher preferences. Rights-retention mandates with waiver options allow some work to remain dark, by following author preferences.\nLoophole and deposit policies defer to publishers for permissions, while rights-retention policies obtain permission from authors before they transfer rights to publishers. For loophole and deposit policies, permission is contingent, because some publishers are willing and some are not. For rights-retention policies, permission is assured, at least initially or by default, although authors may opt out for any publication.\nWhen loophole policies can’t provide OA, covered works needn’t make it to the repository even as dark deposits. When deposit and rights-retention policies can’t provide OA, at least they require dark deposit for the texts, and OA for the metadata (information about author, title, date, and so on). Releasing the metadata makes even a dark deposit visible to readers and search engines. Moreover, many repositories support an email-request button for works on dark deposit. The button enables a reader to submit a one-click request for a full-text email copy and enables the author to grant or deny the request with a one-click response.\nWe could say that rights-retention policies require OA except when authors opt out, or that they simply shift the default to OA. Those are two ways of saying the same thing because, either way, faculty remain free to decide for or against OA for each of their publications. Preserving this freedom and making it conspicuous help muster faculty support, indeed, unanimous faculty votes. Because shifting the default is enough to change behavior on a large scale, waiver options don’t significantly reduce the volume of OA. At Harvard the waiver rate is less than 5 percent, and at MIT it’s less than 2 percent.\nLoophole policies and rights-retention policies both offer opt-outs. But loophole policies give the opt-out to publishers and rights-retention policies give it to authors. The difference is significant because many more authors than publishers want OA for research articles.\nMany institutions adopt loophole policies because they believe a blanket exemption for dissenting publishers is the only way to avoid copyright problems. But that is not true. Deposit policies don’t make works OA until publishers allow OA, and rights-retention policies close the loophole and obtain permission directly from authors at a time when authors are the copyright holders.\nOA policies from funding agencies are very much like OA policies from universities. They can encourage green and gold OA, or they can require green OA. If they require green OA, they can do so in one of the three ways above. If there’s a difference, it’s that when funders adopt a rights-retention mandate, they typically don’t offer waiver options. On the contrary, the Wellcome Trust and NIH require their grantees to make their work OA through a certain OA repository on a certain timetable and to retain the right to authorize that OA. If a given publisher will not allow grantees to comply with their prior funding agreement, then grantees must look for another publisher.\nThere are two reasons why these strong funder policies don’t infringe faculty freedom to submit work to their journals of their choice. First, researchers needn’t seek funds from these funders. When they choose to do so, then they agree to the OA provisions, just as they agree to the other terms and conditions of the grant. The OA “mandate” is a condition on a voluntary contract, not an unconditional requirement. It’s a reasonable condition as well, since public funders, like the NIH, disburse public money in the public interest, and private funders, like the Wellcome Trust, disburse charitable money for charitable purposes. To my knowledge, no researchers have refused to apply for Wellcome or NIH funds because of the OA condition, even when they plan to publish in OA-averse journals. The OA condition benefits authors and has not been a deal-breaker.\nSecond, virtually all publishers accommodate these policies. For example, no surveyed publishers anywhere refuse to publish work by NIH-funded authors on account of the agency’s OA mandate. Hence, in practice grantees may still submit work to the journals of their choice, even without a waiver option to accommodate holdout publishers.\nWe should never forget that most toll-access journals already allow green OA and that a growing number of high-quality, high-prestige peer-reviewed journal are gold OA. From one point of view, we don’t need OA mandates when authors already plan to publish in one of those journals. But sometimes toll-access journals change their positions on green OA. Sometimes authors don’t get around to making their work green OA even when their journals allow it. And sometimes authors don’t publish in one of those journals. The final rationale for green OA mandates, then, is for institutions to bring about OA for their entire research output, regardless of how publishers might alter their policies, regardless of author inertia, and regardless of the journals in which faculty or grantees choose to publish.\nGreen OA mandates don’t assure OA to the entire research output of a university or funding agency, for the same reason that they don’t require OA without qualification. But implementing them provides OA to a much larger percentage of the research output than was already headed toward OA journals or OA repositories, and does so while leaving authors free to submit their work to the journals of their choice.\nI’ve only tried to give a rough taxonomy of OA policies and their supporting arguments. For detailed recommendations on OA policy provisions, and specific arguments for them, see my 2009 analysis of policy options for funding agencies and universities.\nI’ve also focused here on OA policies for peer-reviewed research articles. Many universities have adopted OA mandates for theses and dissertations, and many funder OA policies also cover datasets. A growing number of universities supplement OA mandates for articles with a sensible and effective policy to assure compliance: When faculty come up for promotion or tenure, the review committee will only consider journal articles on deposit in the institutional repository.\n4.2 Digression on the Word “Mandate”\nThe strongest OA policies use words like “must” or “shall” and require or seem to require OA. They’re commonly called OA “mandates.” But all three varieties of university “mandate” above show why the term is misleading. Loophole mandates don’t require OA without qualification: when publishers dissent, articles are either not deposited in the repository or not made OA. Deposit mandates don’t require OA without qualification: when publishers dissent, articles are deposited in a repository but are not made OA. Rights-retention mandates with waiver options don’t require OA without qualification: authors may obtain waivers and sometimes do. I haven’t seen a university OA “mandate” anywhere without at least one of these three kinds of flexibility.\nThat’s the main reason why no university policies require OA without qualification. There are a few more. First, as Harvard’s Stuart Shieber frequently argues, even the strongest university policies can’t make tenured faculty comply.\n                                         \n                                          Second, as I’ve frequently argued, successful policies are implemented through expectations, education, incentives, and assistance, not coercion. Third, even the strongest policies—even the no-loophole, no-deference, no-waiver policies at the Wellcome Trust and NIH—make OA a condition on a voluntary contract. No policy anywhere pretends to impose an unconditional OA requirement, and it’s hard to imagine how any policy could even try. (“You must make your work OA even if you don’t work for us or use our funds”?)\nUnfortunately, we don’t have a good vocabulary for policies that use mandatory language while deferring to third-person dissents or offering first-person opt-outs. Nor do we have a good vocabulary for policies that use mandatory language and replace enforcement with compliance-building through expectations, education, incentives, and assistance. The word “mandate” is not a very good fit for policies like this, but neither is any other English word.\nBy contrast, we do have a good word for policies that use mandatory language for those who agree to be bound. We call them “contracts.” While “contract” is short, accurate, and unfrightening, it puts the accent on the author’s consent to be bound. That’s often illuminating, but just as often we want to put the accent on the content’s destiny to become OA. For that purpose, “mandate” has become the term of art, for better or worse.\nI use “mandate” with reluctance because it can frighten some of the people I’m trying to persuade and can give rise to misunderstandings about the policies behind the label. When we have time and space for longer phrases, we can talk about “putting an OA condition” on research grants, in the case of NIH-style policies, or “shifting the default to OA” for faculty research, in the case of Harvard-style policies. These longer expressions are more accurate and less frightening. However, sometimes we need a shorthand term, and we need a term that draws an appropriately sharp contrast with policies that merely request or encourage OA.\nIf anyone objects that a policy containing mandatory language and a waiver option isn’t really a “mandate,” I won’t disagree. On the contrary, I applaud them for recognizing a nuance which too many others overlook. (It’s depressing how many PhDs can read a policy with mandatory language and a waiver option, notice the mandatory language, overlook the waiver option, and then cite the lack of flexibility as an objection.) But denying that a policy is a mandate can create its own kinds of misunderstanding. In the United States, citizens called for jury duty must appear, even if many can claim exemptions and go home again. We can say that jury duty with exemptions isn’t really a “duty,” provided we don’t conclude that it’s merely a request and encouragement.\nFinally, a common misunderstanding deliberately promulgated by some publishers is that OA must be “mandated” because faculty don’t want it. This position gets understandable but regrettable mileage from the word “mandate.” It also overlooks decisive counter-evidence that we’ve had in hand since 2004. Alma Swan’s empirical studies of researcher attitudes show that an overwhelming majority of researchers would “willingly” comply with a mandatory OA policy from their funder or employer.\nThe most recent evidence of faculty willingness is the stunning series of strong OA policies adopted by unanimous faculty votes. (When is the last time you heard of a unanimous faculty vote for anything, let alone anything of importance?) As recently as 2007, speculation that we’d soon see more than two dozen unanimous faculty votes for OA policies would have been dismissed as wishful thinking. But now that the evidence lies before us, what looks like wishful thinking is the publishing lobby’s idea that OA must be mandated because faculty don’t want it.\nFinally, the fact that faculty vote unanimously for strong OA policies is a good reason to keep looking for a better word than “mandate.” At least it’s a good reason to look past the colloquial implications of the term to the policies themselves and the players who drafted and adopted them. Since 2008, most OA “mandates” at universities have been self-imposed by faculty.\n4.3 Digression on the Historical Timing of OA Policies\nSome kinds of strong OA policy that are politically unattainable or unwise today may become attainable and wise in the future. Here are three examples.\nToday, a libre green mandate (say, one giving users the right to copy and redistribute, not just access for reading) would face serious publisher resistance. Even if the policy included rights retention and didn’t depend on publishers for permissions, publisher resistance would still matter because publishers possess—and ought to possess—the right to refuse to publish any work for any reason. They could refuse to publish authors bound by a libre green policy, or they could insist on a waiver from the policy as a condition of publication. Policies triggering rejections hurt authors, and policies driving up waiver rates don’t do much to help OA. However, publisher resistance might diminish as the ratio of OA publishers to toll-access publishers tilts toward OA, as spontaneous author submissions shift toward OA journals, or as the number of institutions with libre green mandates makes resistance more costly than accommodation for publishers. When OA policies are toothless, few in number, or concentrated in small institutions, then they must accommodate publishers in order to avoid triggering rejections and hurting authors. But as policies grow in number, scope, and strength, the situation could flip over, and publishers will have to accommodate OA policies in order to avoid hurting themselves by rejecting too many good authors for reasons unrelated to the quality of their work.\nToday, a gold OA mandate would limit faculty freedom to submit work to the journals of their choice. But that’s because today only about 25 percent of peer-reviewed journals are OA. As this percentage grows, then a gold OA mandate’s encroachment on academic freedom shrinks. At some point even the most zealous defenders of faculty freedom may decide that the encroachment is negligible. In principle the encroachment could be zero, though of course when the encroachment is zero, and gold OA mandates are harmless, then gold OA mandates would also be unnecessary.\nToday, faculty voting for a rights-retention OA mandate want a waiver option, and when the option is available their votes tend to be overwhelming or unanimous. But there are several circumstances that might make it attractive for faculty to abolish waiver options or make waivers harder to obtain. One is a shift in faculty perspective that makes access to research more urgent than indulging publishers who erect access barriers. Another is a significant rise in publisher acceptance of green OA, which gives virtually all authors—rather than just most—blanket permission for green OA. In the first case, faculty might “vote with their submissions” and steer clear of publishers who don’t allow author-initiated green OA. In the second case, faculty would virtually never encounter such publishers. In the first case, they’d seldom want waivers, and the second they’d seldom need waivers.\nIt’s understandable that green gratis mandates are spreading faster than green libre mandates, that green mandates in general are spreading faster than gold mandates, and that rights-retention policies with waiver options are spreading faster than rights-retention policies without waivers. However, there is modest growth on one of these fronts: green libre mandates.\nThe case against these three kinds of OA policy is time-sensitive, not permanent. It’s circumstantial, and circumstances are changing. But the strategy for institutions wanting to remove access barriers to research is unchanging: they should adopt the strongest policies they can today and watch for the moment when they could strengthen them.\nAs researchers become more familiar with OA, as more institutions adopt OA policies, as more new literature is covered by strong OA policies, as more toll-access journals convert to OA, as more toll-access journals accommodate OA mandates without converting, and even as more OA journals shift from gratis to libre, institutions will be able strengthen their OA policies without increasing publisher-controlled rejection rates or author-controlled waiver rates. They should watch the shifting balance of power and seize opportunities to strengthen their policies.\nThe moments of opportunity will not be obvious. They will not be highlighted by objective evidence alone and will call for some self-fulfilling leadership. Institutional policy-makers will have to assess not only the climate created by existing policies, and existing levels of support, but also the likely effects of their own actions. Every strong, new policy increases the likelihood of publisher accommodation, and when enough universities and funders have policies, all publishers will have to accommodate them. In that sense, every strong new policy creates some of the conditions of its own success. Every institution adopting a new policy brings about OA for the research it controls and makes the way easier for other institutions behind it. Like many other policy issues, this is one on which it is easier to follow than to lead, and we already have a growing number of leaders. A critical mass is growing and every policy is an implicit invitation to other institutions to gain strength through common purpose and help accelerate publisher adaptation.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What seems to be the greatest challenge involved with getting authors involved in helping to create OA policies?", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_1", "options": ["They can't be bothered by such mundane information.", "They do not believe it is something they are responsible for.", "They do not have a stake in the process.", "Their attention is focused elsewhere."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The irony in authors not taking a more proactive role in decisions regarding OA policies is ", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_2", "options": ["though they are scholars, they are not competent enough to understand the processes involved.", "they leave their fate to others.", "they leave their fate to chance.", "they ultimately hold the power behind the decisions."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Caution must be taken with decisions surrounding OA policies because", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_3", "options": ["those seeking information are ultimately the ones who will suffer if the wrong decisions are made.", "institutions will make the policies that are best for them, not others involved.", "there is not enough information available concerning the long-term effects of OA policies.", "certain mandates will limit where authors can publish their works."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "When concerning green OA and gold OA,", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_4", "options": ["there are many areas that remain unclear, thus causing policy-making to be difficult unless a greater understanding of their distinctions is garnered.", "all OA mandates are gold, but this is often misconstrued.", "mandates for gold OA are the only ones that make sense.", "there is really no difference."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The verbiage used for these policies is", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_5", "options": ["cannot be misconstrued.", "is easily misconstrued.", "considered gold-standard.", "is agreed upon universally."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The issue with using more accurate phrasing to describe OA policies is ", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_6", "options": ["the accurate phrasing doesn't seem to exist and needs to be created.", "one simple word will always trump longer, detailed phrasing.", "no one takes the time to read long pieces of text, so it will be lost on the reader anyway.", "the need for one word to replace the more accurate phrasing is often required, and that word may not be the \"right\" term, but it's the closest fit available."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Who seems to be taking advantage of the diction used in OA policies and why?", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_7", "options": ["Researchers because they are able to hide behind the wording of the policies in order to stay out of controversies.", "Publishers because they can use the diction as a scare tactic to those looking to publish their work.", "Institutions because they can skew the policies to their advantage.", "University faculty members because they can use the diction in the policies to continue to maintain control of how those policies are perceived."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Every time a strong OA policy is put into use, ", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_8", "options": ["the system is strengthened, making future policies and decisions easier to develop.", "researchers pull further away from the want to publish their work.", "the prior structure is weakened, eventually leading to the end of OA.", "universities can charge higher fees to access the information."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "One aspect of having university faculty members vote on these policies", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_9", "options": ["it is taking the power from the publishers.", "it shows the futility of the system.", "has been almost unbelievable, as many of those votes were unanimous.  ", "OA policies are sure to strengthen because the greatest minds in the world are behind the decision-making process."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "Why are publishers so reluctant to get on board with these OA policies?", "question_unique_id": "99927_6CQ363XM_10", "options": ["They prefer to leave those decisions to others.", "They are afraid that they are going to lose funding.", "They fear that they will lose their control over those seeing to have their works published.", "They do not believe that they play any role in the OA policies."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0021", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}], "url": "https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu/pub/8uwtev1h/release/2", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu"}
{"article_id": "99929", "set_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-openaccess", "title": "Open Access: Economics", "year": 2019, "author": "Peter Suber", "topic": "Open access article", "article": "Open Access: Economics\nMany publishers who oppose OA concede that OA is better for research and researchers than toll access.\n \n                                          They merely object that we can’t pay for it. But we can pay for it.\nThe first major study of the economic impact of OA policies was conducted by John Houghton and Peter Sheehan in 2006. Using conservative estimates that a nation’s gross expenditure on research and development (GERD) brings social returns of 50 percent, and that OA increases access and efficiency by 5 percent, Houghton and Sheehan calculated that a transition to OA would not only pay for itself, but add $1.7 billion/year to the UK economy and $16 billion/year to the U.S. economy. A later study focusing on Australia used the more conservative estimate that GERD brings social returns of only 25 percent, but still found that the bottom-line economic benefits of OA for publicly funded research were 51 times greater than the costs.\nIndependent confirmation of Houghton’s results came in a major study released in April 2011, commissioned by the UK Joint Information Systems Committee, Publishing Research Consortium, Research Information Network, Research Libraries UK, and the Wellcome Trust. After studying five scenarios for improving research access, it concluded that green and gold OA “offer the greatest potential to policy-makers in promoting access. Both have positive, and potentially high, BCRs [benefit-cost ratios]. . . .”\nThe same study noted that “the infrastructure for Green [OA] has largely already been built” and therefore that “increasing access by this route is especially cost-effective. . . .” I can add that repositories scale up more easily than journals to capture unmet demand, and that depositing in a repository costs the depositor nothing. For all these reasons, I’ll focus in this chapter on how to pay for gold OA (journals), not how to pay for green OA (repositories).\nBefore turning to gold OA, however, I should note that there are widely varying estimates in the literature on what it costs a university to run an institutional repository. The divergence reflects the fact that repositories can serve many different purposes, and that some repositories serve more of them than others. If the minimum purpose is to host OA copies of faculty articles, and if faculty deposit their own articles, then the cost is minimal. But a repository is a general-purpose tool, and once launched there are good reasons for it to take on other responsibilities, such as long-term preservation, assisting faculty with digitization, permissions, and deposits, and hosting many other sorts of content, such as theses and dissertations, books or book chapters, conference proceedings, courseware, campus publications, digitized special collections, and administrative records. If the average repository is a significant expense today, the reason is that the average repository is doing significantly more than the minimum.\nOA journals pay their bills the way broadcast television and radio stations do—not through advertising or pledge drives, but through a simple generalization on advertising and pledge drives. Those with an interest in disseminating the content pay the production costs upfront so that access can be free of charge for everyone with the right equipment. Elsewhere I’ve called this the “some pay for all” model.\nSome OA journals have a subsidy from a university, library, foundation, society, museum, or government agency. Other OA journals charge a publication fee on accepted articles, to be paid by the author or the author’s sponsor (employer or funder). The party paying the subsidy or fee covers the journal’s expenses and readers pay nothing.\nOA journals that charge publication fees tend to waive them in cases of economic hardship, and journals with institutional subsidies tend not to charge publication fees. OA journals can diversify their funding and get by on lower subsidies, or lower fees, if they also have revenue from print editions, advertising, priced add-ons, or auxiliary services. Some institutions and consortia arrange fee discounts, or purchase annual memberships that include fee waivers or discounts for all affiliated researchers.\nModels that work well in some fields and nations may not work as well in others. No one claims that one size fits all. There’s still room for creativity in finding ways to pay the costs of a peer-reviewed OA journal, and many smart and motivated people are exploring different possibilities. Journals announce new variations almost every week, and we’re far from exhausting our cleverness and imagination.\nGreen OA may suffer from invisibility, but gold OA does not. On the contrary, researchers who don’t know about OA repositories still understand that there are OA journals. Sometimes the visibility gap is so large that researchers, journalists, and policy-makers conclude that all OA is gold OA (see section 3.1 on green and gold OA). As a result, most researchers who think about the benefits of OA think about the benefits of gold OA. Here, at least, the news is good. The most comprehensive survey to date shows that an overwhelming 89 percent of researchers from all fields believe that OA journals are beneficial to their fields.\nApart from the myth that all OA is gold OA, the most common myth about gold OA is that all OA journals charge “author fees” or use an “author-pays” business model. There are three mistakes here. The first is to assume that there is only one business model for OA journals, when there are many. The second is to assume that charging an upfront fee means authors are the ones expected to pay it. The third is to assume that all or even most OA journals charge upfront fees. In fact, most OA journals (70 percent) charge no upfront or author-side fees at all. By contrast, most toll-access journals (75 percent) do charge author-side fees. Moreover, even within the minority of fee-based OA journals, only 12 percent of those authors end up paying the fees out of pocket. Almost 90 percent of the time, the fees at fee-based journals are waived or paid by sponsors on behalf of authors.\nTerminology\nThe terms “author fees” and “author pays” are specious and damaging. They’re false for the majority of OA journals, which charge no fees. They’re also misleading even for fee-based OA journals, where nearly nine times out of ten the fees are not paid by authors themselves. It’s more accurate to speak of “publication fees,” “processing fees,” or “author-side fees.” The first two don’t specify the payor, and the third merely specifies that the payment comes from the author side of the transaction, rather than the reader side, without implying that it must come from authors themselves.\nThe false beliefs that most OA journals charge author-side fees and that most toll-access journals don’t have caused several kinds of harm. They scare authors away from OA journals. They support the misconception that gold OA excludes indigent authors. When we add in the background myth that all OA is gold OA, this misconception suggests that OA as such—and not just gold OA—excludes indigent authors.\nThese false beliefs also support the insinuation that OA journals are more likely than non-OA journals to compromise on peer review. But if charging author-side fees for accepted papers really creates an incentive to lower standards, in order to rake in more fees, then most toll-access journals are guilty and most OA journals are not. In fact, however, when OA journals do charge author-side fees, they create firewalls between their financial and editorial operations. For example, most fee-based OA journals will waive their fees in cases of economic hardship, and take pains to prevent editors and referees engaged in peer review from knowing whether or not an author has requested a fee waiver. By contrast, at toll-access journals levying author-side page or color charges, editors generally know that accepted papers will entail revenue.\nThe false belief that most OA journals charge author-side fees also infects studies in which authors misinform survey subjects before surveying them. In effect: “At OA journals, authors pay to be published; now let me ask you a series of questions about your attitude toward OA journals.”\nFinally, this false belief undermines calculations about who would bear the financial brunt if we made a general transition from toll-access journals to OA journals. A handful of studies have calculated that after a general conversion of peer-reviewed journals to OA, high-output universities would pay more in author-side fees than they pay now in subscriptions. These calculations make at least two assumptions unjustified by present facts or trends: that all OA journals would charge fees, and that all fees would be paid by universities.\nThere are two kinds of OA journals, full and hybrid. Full OA journals provide OA to all their research articles. Hybrid OA journals provide OA to some and toll-access to others, when the choice is the author’s rather than the editor’s. Most hybrid OA journals charge a publication fee for the OA option. Authors who can find the money get immediate OA, and those who can’t or prefer not to, get toll access. (Many hybrid OA journals provide OA to all their articles after some time period, such as a year.) Some hybrid OA journals promise to reduce subscription prices in proportion to author uptake of the OA option, that is, to charge subscribers only for the toll-access articles. But most hybrid journal publishers don’t make this promise and “double dip” by charging subscription fees and publication fees for the same OA articles.\nHybrid OA is very low-risk for publishers. If the OA option has low uptake, the publisher loses nothing and still has subscription revenue. If it has high uptake, the publisher has subscription revenue for the conventional articles, publication fees for the OA articles, and sometimes both at once for the OA articles. Hence, the model has spread far and fast. The Professional/Scholarly Publishing division of the Association of American Publishers reported in 2011 that 74 percent of surveyed journals offering some form of OA in 2009 offered hybrid OA. At the same time, SHERPA listed more than 90 publishers offering hybrid OA options, including all of the largest publishers. Despite its spread, hybrid OA journals do little or nothing to help researchers, libraries, or publishers. The average rate of uptake for the OA option at hybrid journals is just 2 percent.\nThe chief virtue of hybrid OA journals is that they give publishers some firsthand experience with the economics and logistics of OA publishing. But the economics are artificial, since hybrid OA publishers have no incentive to increase author uptake and make the model succeed. The publishers always have subscriptions to fall back on. Moreover, an overwhelming majority of full-OA journals charge no publication fees and the overwhelming majority of hybrid-OA journals never gain firsthand experience with no-fee business models.\nA growing number of for-profit OA publishers are making profits, and a growing number of nonprofit OA publishers are breaking even or making surpluses. Two different business models drive these sustainable publishing programs. BioMed Central makes profits and the Public Library of Science makes surpluses by charging publication fees. MedKnow makes profits without charging publication fees by selling priced print editions of its OA journals.\nFee-based OA journals tend to work best in fields where most research is funded, and no-fee journals tend to work best in fields and countries where comparatively little research is funded. The successes of these two business models give hope that gold OA can be sustainable in every discipline.\nEvery kind of peer-reviewed journal can become more sustainable by reducing costs. Although peer review is generally performed by unpaid volunteers, organizing or facilitating peer review is an expense. The journal must select referees, distribute files to referees, monitor who has what, track progress, nag dawdlers, collect comments and share them with the right people, facilitate communication, distinguish versions, and collect data on acceptances and rejections. One powerful way to reduce costs without reducing quality is to use free and open-source journal management software to automate the clerical tasks on this list.\nThe leader in this field is Open Journal Systems from the Public Knowledge Project, but there are more than a dozen other open-source packages. While OJS or other open-source software could benefit even toll-access journals, their use is concentrated among OA journals. OJS alone is has more than 9,000 installations (though not all are used for managing journals). This is not merely an example of how one openness movement can help another but also of how fearing openness can lead conventional publishers to forgo financial benefits and leave money on the table.\nThere are reasons to think that OA journals cost less to produce than toll-access journals of the same quality. OA journals dispense with subscription management (soliciting, negotiating, tracking, renewing subscribers), dispense with digital rights management (authenticating users, distinguishing authorized from unauthorized, blocking access to unauthorized), eliminate legal fees for licensing (drafting, negotiating, monitoring, and enforcing restrictive licenses), and reduce or eliminate marketing. In their place they add back little more than the cost of collecting publication fees or institutional subsidies. Several studies and OA publishers have testified to these lower costs.\nWe shouldn’t count the savings from dropping print, since most toll-access journals in the sciences have already dropped their print editions and those in the humanities are moving in the same direction.\nWe should be suspicious when large, venerable, conventional publishers say that in their experience the economics of OA publishing don’t work. Print-era publishers retooling for digital, and toll-access publishers retooling for OA, will inevitably realize smaller savings from OA than lean, mean OA start-ups without legacy equipment, personnel, or overhead from the age of print and subscriptions.\nAbout one-quarter of all peer-reviewed journals today are OA. Like toll-access journals, some are in the black and thriving and some are in the red and struggling. However, the full range of OA journals begins to look like a success story when we consider that the vast majority of the money needed to support peer-reviewed journals is currently tied up in subscriptions to conventional journals. OA journals have reached their current numbers and quality despite the extraordinary squeeze on budgets devoted to the support of peer-reviewed journals.\nEven if OA journals had the same production costs as toll-access journals, there’s enough money in the system to pay for peer-reviewed OA journals in every niche where we currently have peer-reviewed toll-access journals, and at the same level of quality. In fact, there’s more than enough, since we wouldn’t have to pay publisher profit margins surpassing those at ExxonMobil. Jan Velterop, the former publisher of BioMed Central, once said that OA publishing can be profitable but will “bring profit margins more in line with the added value.”\nTo support a full range of high-quality OA journals, we don’t need new money. We only need to redirect money we’re currently spending on peer-reviewed journals.\n                                         \n                                          There are many kinds of redirection. One is the voluntary conversion of toll-access journals to OA. Conversion could be a journal’s grudging response to declining library budgets for toll-access journals and exclusion from the big deals that take the lion’s share of library budgets. It could be a grudging response to its own past price increases and rising levels of green OA (see chapter 8 on casualties). Or it could be a hopeful and enthusiastic desire to achieve the benefits of OA for authors (greater audience and impact), readers (freedom from price and permission barriers), and publishers themselves (increased readership, citations, submissions, and quality).\nAnother kind of redirection is the rise of OA journal funds at universities. Even during times of declining budgets, libraries are setting aside money to pay publication fees at fee-based OA journals. The funds help faculty choose OA journals for their new work and help build a sustainable alternative to toll-access journals.\nRedirection is also taking place on a large scale, primarily through CERN’s SCOAP3 project (Sponsoring Consortium for Open Access Publishing in Particle Physics). SCOAP3 is an ambitious plan to convert all the major toll-access journals in particle physics to OA, redirect the money formerly spent on reader-side subscription fees to author-side publication fees, and reduce the overall price to the journal-supporting institutions. It’s a peaceful revolution based on negotiation, consent, and self-interest. After four years of patiently building up budget pledges from libraries around the world, SCOAP3 entered its implementation phase in in April 2011.\nIf SCOAP3 succeeds, it won’t merely prove that CERN can pull off ambitious projects, which we already knew. It will prove that this particular ambitious project has an underlying win-win logic convincing to stakeholders. Some of the factors explaining the success of SCOAP3 to date are physics-specific, such as the small number of targeted journals, the green OA culture in physics embraced even by toll-access publishers, and the dominance of CERN. Other factors are not physics-specific, such as the evident benefits for research institutions, libraries, funders, and publishers. A success in particle physics would give hope that the model could be lifted and adapted to other fields without their own CERN-like institutions to pave the way. Other fields would not need CERN-like money or dominance so much as CERN-like convening power to bring the stakeholders to the table. Then the win-win logic would have a chance to take over from there.\nMark Rowse, former CEO of Ingenta, sketched another strategy for large-scale redirection in December 2003. A publisher could “flip” its toll-access journals to OA at one stroke by reinterpreting the payments it receives from university libraries as publication fees for a group of authors rather than subscription fees for a group of readers. One advantage over SCOAP3 is that the Rowsean flip can be tried one journal or one publisher at a time, and doesn’t require discipline-wide coordination. It could also scale up to the largest publishers or the largest coalitions of publishers.\nWe have to be imaginative but we don’t have to improvise. There are some principles we can try to follow. Money freed up by the cancellation or conversion of peer-reviewed TA journals should be spent first on peer-reviewed OA journals, to ensure the continuation of peer review. Large-scale redirection is more efficient than small-scale redirection. Peaceful revolution through negotiation and self-interest is more amicable and potentially more productive than adaptation forced by falling asteroids.\nFor the record, I advocate redirecting money freed up by cancellations or conversions, not canceling journals in order to free up money (except with SCOAP3 or Rowse-like consent and negotiation). This may look like hair-splitting, but the difference is neither small nor subtle. It’s roughly the difference between having great expectations and planning to kill your parents.\n", "questions": [{"question": "An economic study on the impact of OA policies shows that", "question_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY_1", "options": ["researchers will not be allowed to continue their works.", "the economy will lose money.", "publishers will close.", "OA actually costs less in the long run."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "One determining factor in the cost-effectiveness of OA is", "question_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY_2", "options": ["how long it will take to get universal OA policies in place.", "how much universities charge for their services.", "how repositories will be used.", "how much researchers are allotted to conduct their studies."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Overall researchers seem to believe", "question_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY_3", "options": ["OA is going to be a detriment to them.", "OA will have no effect on them at all.", "feel that there will be long-reaching benefits for their field because of OA.", "don't care about OA one way or the other."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Many authors", "question_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY_4", "options": ["believe that they should be profiting off of OA just as much as the publishers.", "believe that universities and publishers should have to deal with OA.", "don't seem to care about OA at all.", "support OA because they will make more money that way."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 3, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "In relation to peer-review journals, ", "question_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY_5", "options": ["the use of software will in no way improve their costs.", "the majority of the costs come from the reviewing process.", "they stand to benefit the most from hybrid OA.", "incur most of their costs through facilitation."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "OA journals", "question_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY_6", "options": ["cost more to produce.", "cost less than other journals to produce.", "do not contain quality, reliable information.", " are too hard to access."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Redirection of funds in relation to OA journals", "question_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY_7", "options": ["weaken the levels of research that is done because the funds will not be there.", "cause publishers to have an increase in funds.", "could promote an overall improvement in the publications.", "cause publishers to be put out of business."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "When funds are freed up", "question_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY_8", "options": ["they should go to the publishers", "they should go to the universites.", "they should be put back into the OA journals themselves.", "they should be given to the researchers."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Whose opinion should be avoided when it comes to OA journals", "question_unique_id": "99929_7KT0XBKY_9", "options": ["researchers who are indifferent.", "libraries who do not want to convert.", "publishers who speak out against them.", "universities who do nothing but advocate them"], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0016", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0012", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0038", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu/pub/ndd08idp/release/2", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://openaccesseks.mitpress.mit.edu"}
{"article_id": "99911", "set_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "New work order", "year": 2016, "author": "Geraldine Bedell", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "New work order\nIn March 2015, it was time for Hayden Wood and Amit Gudka to move out of the kitchen. The pair had raised investment for their startup, Bulb, a renewable energy supplier, and they were looking for an office.  \n\n A coworking space was the obvious choice: somewhere that would allow them to take on more desks as needed. (When I meet them a little over a year later, they were eight strong and hiring around one more each month.) \"We looked at a few different spaces,\" says Wood, who had previously spent 10 years in management consultancy for Monitor Group (now Monitor Deloitte) and Bain & Company. \"Second Home had been open a few months and we took the tour. We were nervous: were we going to get in?\" \n\n It is odd, perhaps, to think of the renting of office space as a socially testing business, entailing pre-interview nerves. But acceptance into Second Home, for some, signifies hipness. Juliette Morgan, partner at Cushman & Wakefield, a property consultancy, who works out of Second Home, says: \"I used to joke that there was a cool alarm that went off when people came to look round – but then they let us in.\" \n\n Morgan's case may have been helped by her previous role as head of property for Tech City, the government initiative promoted by David Cameron's advisor Rohan Silva, who also happens to be the co-founder of Second Home. Wood admits that he and Gudka, who previously traded energy at Barclays for eight years, did know some people at Second Home already. \"When we looked on the website, some of the faces were familiar. And we hoped our business idea was quite good.\"\nWhen I arrive at the Second Home reception desk, a sign urges me to \"join us tonight at 3.30pm for meditation.\" Before that, there's the option to have lunch at the atrium restaurant, Jago, founded by a former head chef of Ottolenghi and the former general manager of Morito. Today, there are cauliflower fritters made with lentil flour (gluten-free), which you can eat while admiring the exuberant architecture of Spanish firm SelgasCano, which has transformed the former carpet warehouse near Brick Lane: a plexiglass bubble punched out of the front of the building, sweeping curved walls, a wide cantilevered staircase up to the pod-like offices on the first floor.\nThe benches are orange, the floors yellow. (\"There is quite a lot of science behind the colours, to do with improving mood and productivity,\" says Morgan.) Flowers flop in elegant vases and masses of plants sit in pots on sills, desks and walls. A row of fruit trees is in blossom outside. The exposed concrete pillars look unfinished, with scribble and tags still visible. Sam Aldenton, Silva's co-founder, has sourced 600 mid-century modern chairs from all over Europe.\n\"It's an aesthetic that tells an investor you're being frugal with their money,\" says Morgan, \"but it's also playful and energetic and that works for your brand. For us, it tells the tech companies we want to work with that we understand them. Coworking spaces say something about you, that you're a Second Home business or a Central Working business.\" \n\n Being a Second Home business gives you access to others that have also made the grade. \"We had a strong business plan, but there were other things we didn't have,\"says Wood. \"Someone at Second Home recommended our branding agency, Ragged Edge. Congregation Partners, who are here, have helped with recruiting; and we met Blue State Digital [a digital strategy agency that worked on Obama's election campaign, whose London office is based at Second Home] in the bar one Friday night and they offered us a workshop about how to market and launch. It's an extremely generous collaborative culture.\"\nOther kinds of business at Second Home include venture capitalists; the European headquarters of chore-outsourcing company TaskRabbit; and ASAP54, an app that scans online fashion and locates where to buy it. Silva and Aldenton curate events that help them to network and that offer a kind of intellectual support and ballast – so Amit Gudka, a fan of the South African theoretical physicist Neil Turok was able to hear him speak at Second Home and afterwards have dinner with him and Silva. \n\n Wood and Gudka's first post-kitchen office was in Second Home's roaming area, where freelancers come and go. A desk costs £350 a month; they are sold several times over (a four-to-one ratio is thought to ensure the right level of occupancy without straining supply). The pair subsequently moved into a studio, then a larger office; they will take a bigger space upstairs when the refurbishment of three upper floors is completed. \"It doesn't feel like being a tenant,\" says Wood. \"The community team here has taught us a lot about how to interact with our own members.\" \n\n We are all members now, it seems. Business ventures are turning themselves into clubs, making what used to be banal choices about office space or energy supply statements of identity. There was no shortage of office options for Wood and Gudka, and all of them carried connotations about what kind of business they meant to be: incubators and accelerators run by different sorts of organisations; hacker spaces; industry- and sector-coworking spaces; more traditional office rentals from companies like Regus and Workspace; and all manner of coworking spaces, from scruffy coops to coworking empires.  \n\n Coworking began because startups and freelancers, typically in tech and the creative industries, needed somewhere to work. But as more organisations outsource more of their operations – or as large corporates seek to reach those startups – the range of activities represented among coworkers has expanded to comprehend almost everything. KPMG’s tech startup advice arm is based at Interchange in Camden. Merck, Microsoft, American Express and GE all lease desks at WeWork, in addition to running their own offices. \n\n The annual Global Coworking Survey, produced by Deskmag, anticipates that 10,000 new coworking spaces will open worldwide in 2016. In Europe, the estimated number of spaces (though it's hard to keep track) has risen from 3,400 in 2013 to around 7,800 in 2016. According to Cushman & Wakefield's Juliette Morgan, \"Twelve per cent of the uptake in the London market in the last year has been spaces like this. Everyone thinks it's going to continue.\"\nAt a purely economic level, it's easy to see why. As large corporates downsize their core operations, they no longer need vast offices. Iris Lapinski watched the process in action when her educational non-profit startup, Apps for Good, squatted in Royal Bank of Scotland’s offices in the City in late 2008. \"RBS was going through huge waves of redundancies. On our floor, it was three of us and 150 empty desks,\" she says, \"and then new people would come in and they'd get fired too. Eventually they'd fired so many people they closed down the building.\" Aware that \"tech companies were doing something funkier\", she moved Apps for Good into the Trampery, the first coworking space in Shoreditch. \n\n Adam Neumann and Miguel McKelvey founded WeWork in 2010 in New York to capitalise on this corporate downsizing phenomenon: leasing large spaces, often previous corporate offices, subdividing them, then selling them at a profit. WeWork typically rents its buildings (although it owns its latest London site in Paddington) then subleases the space – with, according to Fast Company, average gross margins of 60 per cent. \n\n The model has proved so successful that WeWork now has 103 locations in 29 cities worldwide. The company will open five new coworking spaces in London this year, bringing the total to 11, with Paddington large enough for 2,100 'members'. The company recently authorised the sale of up to $780m in new stock, giving it a $16bn valuation and making it, on paper, the sixth most valuable private startup in the world. \n\n The Freelancers' Union in the US claims that 30 per cent of the US working population is now freelance, and predicts a rise to 50 per cent by 2035. One in eight London workers are self-employed. But the unstoppable rise and rise of coworking isn't simply about corporate downsizing and the growth of the startup and the gig economy, significant though these are. \n\n What distinguishes contemporary coworking spaces is the nature of their cultural claims. A study by Harvard Business Review found that coworkers believe their work has more meaning. The authors suggested that working alongside people doing different things reinforces workers' identity and distinctiveness; that coworkers feel they have more control over their lives (many spaces are open 24/7); that they have a stronger sense of community; and that there is still a social mission inherent in the idea of coworking, as outlined in the Coworking manifesto, and reinforced by the annual Global Coworking UnConference or GCUC (pronounced 'juicy'). WeWork's website urges you to \"Create your life's work\".  \n\n \"Do what you love\" is one of WeWork's slogans, emblazoned on the front of a notebook they give me when I visit. Another is \"Thank God it's Monday\". Neumann describes his generation (he is 36) as the 'we generation' which, he explains, \"cares about the world, actually wants to do cool things, and loves working.\" \n\n The coworking space – even on a vast, industrial scale as at WeWork – is a club. And the whole point of clubs is that you want to belong to them. To someone raised in the era of the corporate office, used to the subversive feeling of being behind enemy lines, this may seem an odd way to think about the workplace. To anyone for whom The Office of Ricky Gervais and Stephen Merchant was painfully recognisable, with its grey partitions and random people thrown together to do pretty pointless things and get on each other's nerves, it might seem risible.  \n\n But clearly lots of people want this. A paradoxical effect of the internet has been to make us desire more social connection in the real world. From coffee shops to festivals to gyms, examples are everywhere of people keen to come together and share experiences. \n\n As we have to rely more on ourselves and on our own resources at work, it's probably not surprising that we seek out the reassuring sight of other people doing the same. As Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri say in their 2012 book, Declaration, \"The centre of gravity of capitalist production no longer resides in the factory but has drifted outside its walls. Society has become a factory.\" \n\n Work has blurred into life, in part owing to the peculiar nature of our current relationship to technology. We do not conceive of machines, as we did in the past, as engines of oppression, exploiting workers; rather, we frame our devices as intimate and personal, interactive and fun, blurring the distinctions between work and play.  \n\n We tend not, for example, to view posting on Facebook as labour, even though there are perfectly good economic arguments why we should. The eight hours' work, eight hours' leisure, eight hours' rest fought for so fiercely in the 19th century has become meaningless in an era when we willingly, eagerly, spend 12 hours a day on a laptop.  \n\n As work becomes increasingly unpredictable and permeable, in a way that reflects the internet itself, workspaces are imagined more as social landscapes. Increasingly, they are designed for serendipitous encounters, emotional expression, explorations of identity. Of course, you could take the cynical view that the imperative of productivity has now colonised every aspect of our lives, that our private relationships have become 'social capital', that even our intimate interactions have been turned into a kind of labour. Or you could say, as coworking enthusiasts tend to, that work has got a whole lot more fun. \n\n Whatever, this shift in our sense of work helps to explain why workplaces have increasingly come to resemble clubs, and why no one is falling about laughing at the idea of Silva and Aldenton calling their workspace Second Home. The workspace has become an expression of identity – which raises two questions:  first, if coworking is all about finding a space to express your individualism, follow your passions, explore your creativity, why do the spaces all look so alike? And second, if the workplace is all about belonging to a club and clubs are by their nature exclusive, how scalable is that?\nThere are new buildings rising all around WeWork Moorgate, in the City of London; an insistent noise of drilling, a clang of girders, a rumble of concrete mixers. This is some of the most expensive real estate in the world. Crossrail's engineers are tunnelling beneath; giant new buildings advertise themselves on construction hoardings everywhere at street level: there is a provisional air, as though the city can't quite catch up with its own wealth.\nWeWork Moorgate is the second largest coworking space in the UK after WeWork Paddington, accommodating 3,000 people over eight floors. A permanent desk will cost you £425 a month, rising to £675 depending on its location in the building. A one-person office will set you back £725 to £825 a month, a four-person £2,600 to £3,100. The largest office here is for 40 people; in Paddington, one company has 230 desks. \n\n The interior ticks all the coworking style boxes: raw concrete; exposed ceilings revealing air conditioning ducts, pipes and silvered insulation; multicoloured upholstery; a kitchen with its own island bar offering free tea, coffee and craft beer; easy chairs and sofas; tables of varying heights and sizes; music; and some signifiers of fun, such as a table tennis table (but, unlike at WeWork's South Bank site, no arcade machines; nor, unlike at its Devonshire Square, any skateboards on the walls). \n\n In the toilet, cups for mouthwash urge you to 'stay fresh', which I am sure is meant jocularly but which arouses in me the same sort of mulish resentment I used to feel when I worked in advertising in my twenties and slogans in reception ordered me to \"reach for the stars\". (What makes you think I wouldn't, mate?). \n\n Given that coworking, which after all grew out of hacker culture, is supposed to embody an attitude of resistance to conventional authority, WeWork is curiously corporate, certainly in its approach to communication. I am asked not to quote the community manager who shows me around. There isn't anyone who can speak on the record (or off it, for that matter) in the building. My queries have to be submitted in writing then edited down because there are too many of them. The answers come back, finally, appended: \"All attributable to Eugen Miropolski, Managing Director, Europe\". \n\n Eugen Miropolski, Managing Director, Europe, says that WeWork is \"much more than an office space provider. Members are given the space, community and services they need to create their life's work\". Going around the building, what you mainly notice is that the spaces allotted to people's life's work are rather tiny and cramped. Effectively off corridors, they seem rather conventional behind their glass partitions: a desk, a chair, a lamp, a drawer. Many coworkers sit with their backs to their colleagues, staring at blank walls, with barely enough space for a third person to pass between them. You need a keycard to get anywhere inside the building.  \n\n WeWork's enthusiasts, though, emphasise the connections they make with others, either physically or through an app that links members to 50,000 others worldwide. Miropolski claims \"more than 70 per cent of our members collaborate with each other\".  \n\n This empire of office space has been derided as 'McCoworking'; but another way of looking at it might simply be that it's a sign of natural segmentation as the market matures. Many workspace providers set up because they wanted some office space themselves; they have no desire to be other than local, small-scale and collaborative. But others are starting to take on a role as akind of corporate parent. Canada's Coworking Ontario provides health insurance. WeWork is also reported to be looking at providing discounts on healthcare, payroll and shipping, replicating services that a corporate employer might once have provided. \n\n Meanwhile, at the other end of the scale, coffee shop-workspace hybrid Timberyard is dematerialising the desk, providing mobile workers who need to sit down and check their emails with the most ad hoc of workspaces. Most of Timberyard's users don't pay for space, the usual coworking business model, but they do pay for the tea and coffee (\"award-winning\", co-founder Darren Elliott is keen to point out) and for the artisan-produced, wellness-focused food (super seeds with almond butter on toast, beetroot, avocado and hummus on toast, hibiscus cake). Unlike most coffee shops, Timberyard's branches in Seven Dials and Soho are designed to encourage customers to stay and work: there is fast Wi-Fi with plentiful power sockets, careful regulation of temperature, lots of natural light and attentive design. Many of the chairs have been rescued from skips and reupholstered; the tables are striped like Jim Lambie staircases; the disabled toilet looks like a shipping container. \n\n In the last couple of months, Timberyard has renting out permanent desks in the basement of its Soho branch and now hosts three companies, one of eight people, one of 12 and one of 20. But Elliott says the shop upstairs will always be open to the street and the public. Typically, workers stay for a couple of hours, but they might be there for 20 minutes or all day. \"We believe this is the way people will work in the future,\" Elliott says, surveying a sea of laptops: \"portable, connected, independent and collaborative, sharing resources and seeking out inspiring spaces.\" Timberyard intends to become a way station for the digital nomad.\nThe logical extension of the elision of work and home life is that the same organisations might end up providing both. WeWork is experimenting with micro apartments in two locations: in New York and at Crystal City, outside Washington DC. Second Home is also believed to have Roam, which began in Bali, intends to build a global co-living network, with its offer: \"Sign one lease. Live around the world.\" From its initial base in Ubud, it has expanded into Miami and recently Madrid; Buenos Aires and London are 'coming soon'. Roam isn't simply about a bed for the night: it sells itself partly on the quality of its coworking offer. In Bali, the office space is on the roof, under a palm thatch, with a swimming pool in the courtyard below.  \n\n Coworking organisations increasingly see a market in digital nomads: if you can work from a coffee shop in Seven Dials, why not a rooftop in Bali? It's not even necessary to have a string of spaces across the world to attract drop-ins from elsewhere:Coworking Visa andCoPass offer 'passports' that guarantee a certain amount of time in any of their participating spaces. \n\n The Trampery, the pioneering coworking organisation in London that attracted Iris Lapinski, is now moving into co-living. Founded by the sociologist-entrepreneur-musician-traveller-dandy Charles Armstrong, The Trampery currently has three spaces, at Old Street, near City Hall, and in Hackney Wick. Armstrong began with a cross-sector workspace but now specialises in fashion and retail at Old St, travel and tourism at London Bridge, and digital artists, fashion and design in Hackney, finding this a better way to create 'intentional communities' and secure corporate partnerships.  \n\n In what Armstrong calls \"a somewhat unconventional deal with Peabody\", the Trampery is about to start building Fish Island Village in Hackney Wick: a co-living space that will also include traditional social housing. This experiment is partly a response to the pricing out of London of artists and other creatives and partly an attempt \"to move beyond a single workspace to think about a neighbourhood\". \n\n When Fish Island Village is built, the Trampery will curate its inhabitants based on what Armstrong describes as a mix of \"means testing and merit testing\". Rather than the usual micro-apartment model, \"cellular units with a cavernous social area\", Fish Island Village will have communal spaces for up to six bedrooms, \"more like a large family. There will still be a members' club, shared by everyone.\" The development won't be aimed solely at affluent 18- to 30-year-olds, but will include flats of up to four bedrooms, suitable for people with children. \"We don't want to create a single-generational demographic bubble.\"\nThe single generation demographic bubble is of course the trouble with all this curation. Even while lip service is paid to ideas of innovation coming from unexpected places, from unlikely collisions and random connections, it is a very tough-minded curator who doesn't seek to be surrounded by people who are basically a bit like himself. With coworking spaces, as with the internet, there is the promise of connection and collaboration and a world of newness and surprise. And, as with the internet, there is a danger that you can easily end up talking either to people just like yourself. \n\n So what of those questions about style and scalability? As far as the former is concerned, coworking spaces do all look a little bit alike – but design has a long history of innovators and followers. Inevitably, everyone borrows the more directional visual cues, even to the point of pastiche. \n\n But they are not, in fact, all alike. They are surprising in their degree of difference. There are industrial-scale operators that lack the warmth and personal touches of the smaller providers (no one at WeWork is ever going to come out of the kitchen as you arrive, knowing your name and whom you're here to visit, which is what happens at the Trampery); but which also lack their preciousness about who is allowed to the party. And then there are the cool clubs that everyone in their right mind would want to join, but where few are chosen.  \n\n It seems likely that coworking spaces will follow a pattern set by festivals. They will proliferate, each developing its own distinctive vibe, projecting an array of differing identities while all answering a need for the increasingly autonomous workers of the future to hang out with other people.  \n\n Meanwhile, the current excitement over coworking may have less to do with a method of office organisation than with a handful of hugely successful connectors. When Iris Lapinski moved out of RBS, she chose the Trampery partly because \"Charles draws in interesting people. He's got links to corporates, government, policymakers.\" One of these connections turned out to be Bob Schukai, head of advanced product innovation at Thomson Reuters, which led directly to £300,000 of sponsorship revenue for Apps for Good. \"Charles is a great connector,\" Lapinsky says, \"and that is really what makes the Trampery so special. Most don't have the same flair.\"\nImages from top: WeWork Moorgate; Second Home; WeWork; The Trampery Old Street, Home of Publicis Drugstore; Timberyard; WeWork\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "What seems to be the draw to renting coworking space when you can simply work from home?", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_1", "options": ["It is a tax credit that people don't often realize.", "You can have interactions with like-minded individuals.  It also is a good place to network.", "No one wants to sit at home all of the time.", "They often just like to show others they have the expendable income for such things."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Second Home ", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_2", "options": ["does not offer enough for the cost of service.", "seems to be geared towards \"hipsters.\"", "is family friendly.", "is an uncomfortable environment."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "These new coworking spaces", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_3", "options": ["tend to be built only in warehouse-type buildings.", "are all cramped spaces which makes one wonder what their appeal is.", "are all one-size-fits-all places, so there is no need to look around at different options.", "seem to offer an exclusivity that adds to their appeal."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Those who typically rent these sorts of spaces", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_4", "options": ["hate their home, so they have to get out.", "want to add to their social life, and they are great places to meet people other than online dating sites.", "are freelancers and startups.", "lonely and need friends."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "By becoming part of these coworking spaces, ", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_5", "options": ["people are conforming to stereotypes.", "feel superior to those who opt to work from home.", "people force themselves to hone in on their social skills.", "people seem to find more meaning in their work."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Many owners of coworking spaces", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_6", "options": ["do not seem to put any sort of effort into the type of environment they supply.", "have cornered a market and are making a killing off of people.", "say that people actually enjoy coming to the office now.", "are losing money because no one is buying into the nonsense of what they are selling."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0038", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Coworking spaces", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_7", "options": ["are often distractions because of the atmosphere they encourage.", "are almost cult-like atmospheres.", "do not allow for a positive work environment.", "are a trend that reflects our changing attitude towards what office life should be."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The members of WeWork", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_8", "options": ["can connect with members worldwide.", "are not allowed to interact with anyone outside of their coworking space.", "have been brainwashed by the atmosphere.", "really don't have that much quality interaction with anyone there."], "writer_label": 1, "gold_label": 1, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "WeWork is", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_9", "options": ["encourages open communication about what takes place in their space.", "downsizing and only offering smaller spaces.", "charges members extra for anything that is not specifically included in the space they rent.", "expanding to include access to coworking spaces around the world."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0014", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Each different coworking space", "question_unique_id": "99911_450M4XO8_10", "options": ["has a different theme that the occupants must adhere to.", "is the same anywhere you go.", "is its own unique environment.  ", "is exactly like going to work at a 9-5 job."], "writer_label": 3, "gold_label": 3, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0028", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0005", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0017", "untimed_answer": 3, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 3}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/spaces/coworking", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}
{"article_id": "99914", "set_unique_id": "99914_0Q5X8VEX", "batch_num": "23", "writer_id": "1022", "source": "misc-longshort", "title": "The end of the web", "year": 2017, "author": "Katja Bego", "topic": "Magazine article", "article": "The end of the web\nIn the past year, as we have witnessed the upending of the political order, the internet has been the theatre where many of the battles have been fought: from the hacking and leaking of Democratic party emails, to the proliferation of fake news and alternative facts, and yes, the outpourings of @realDonaldTrump. \n\n With domestic and geopolitical tensions rising, governments are finding it increasingly hard to function amid a constant barrage of uncontrollable information and potential cyber-attacks, making them grow more wary both of the internet's influence and their ability to control it.\nThe fallout from this means we are facing the prospect of countries around the world pulling the plug on the open, global internet and creating their own independent networks. We might be about to see the end of the world wide internet as we know it.\nWith globalisation under attack, the ultimate bastion of borderlessness – the global internet – might very well be one the biggest scalps taken by the newly emerging world order heralded in by Brexit and Trump. If a global orthodoxy of free trade, soft power and international organisations is overpowered by belligerent nations and isolationism, the net will inevitably be swept away with it.\nYet although fragmentation – and ultimately also Balkanisation – will carry great social and economic cost, it could also be an opportunity. Europe, which has already been flexing its muscles when it comes to internet policy, now finds itself forced to rely less on US cooperation. It should therefore become a frontrunner in developing an alternative, decentralised internet, with its root values of fairness, openness and democracy restored. This could help the net – and indeed Europe – to become more resilient again. As much as we fear the 'splinternet', we should welcome the Euronet.\nWeaponisation of the internet\nSince we've become dependent on the internet for almost everything we do, dangers to the network's integrity threaten devastating effects. Governments may be tempted to turn inwards in an attempt to shield themselves and their citizens from cyber-attacks. \n\n \n\n Last October, unknown hackers used an array of badly secured 'internet of things' (IoT) devices to bring down most of the internet on the east coast of America in one of the largest DDoS (distributed denial-of-service) attacks to date. While depriving Americans of Amazon and Facebook for several hours was surely an inconvenience, the potential of the weaponised internet to do harm is infinitely greater. \n\n \n\n As more of the components of a country's critical infrastructure move online, the number of possible targets grows too. Hackers shut down a significant part of Ukraine's electricity grid in 2015, and crippled several important Estonian industries, including its banks, in 2007.\nMany cyber-security experts warn about the lacklustre defence of everything from air traffic control towers and voting machines to nuclear plants. One well-placed attack could do more damage than the most aggressive of traditional military campaigns, at a fraction of the cost. Because of the high degree of uncertainty surrounding cyber-capabilities – 'know your enemy' is a hard adage to follow if potential culprits and their capabilities are so tough to track – it has become impossible for governments to completely shield their countries from cyber-attacks. \n\n \n\n The growing urge to control the internet has also become apparent over the influence of so-called fake news. Distorting public opinion and fact as a manipulation technique is nothing new: it's been used since Roman times. But the relentless pace and scope with which the internet allows information to disseminate is quite unprecedented. Governments and the media (who have themselves often swapped truth for clicks) are having an increasingly hard time stemming the flow of biased or misleading news stories. So the democratic process suffers. \n\n \n\n The solutions offered by the reluctant tech giants providing a platform for fake news won't be sufficient to stop it altogether. This will prompt more countries to follow Russia and China in building their own platforms like VKontakte and Baidu, thus reducing foreign influence and allowing for extensive censorship and monitoring. The desire of developing countries to establish their own social networks will see them retreat into their own national bubbles.\nFragile infrastructure\nWhile cyber attacks and false information campaigns use the internet to attack the infrastructure by which our societies function, the internet's own infrastructure is also at risk. Despite the internet's ephemeral, lawless appeal, its underlying network of cables, tubes and wires is very much rooted in the physical world. Over 99 per cent of all global internet communications are facilitated by an impressive web of undersea cables, connecting all corners of the world. A submarine deliberately destroying one of these cables in a hard-to-reach place could bring down access to parts of the internet for weeks; and so, by extension, all the systems that rely upon it. \n\n \n\n The fallibility of this shared infrastructure also makes it impossible to keep foreign or hostile actors out of domestic affairs. Though governments that heavily restrict internet access might find it easier to prevent information from flowing in and out of the country, they are still reliant on the same co-owned systems, with some parts inevitably falling under other countries' jurisdictions. \n\n This became very clear after the 2013 Snowden revelations, which showed that the US routinely tapped into foreign internet traffic routed through the country. The massive scale of this monitoring even led then president of Brazil Dilma Rousseff to call for the construction of an undersea cable from Brazil directly to Europe, bypassing the prying eyes of the National Security Agency altogether. And US intelligence agencies are by no means the only ones doing this kind of snooping, as we know all too well. \n\n \n\n With various nations eyeing each other suspiciously and traditional alliances crumbling, building alternative structures to make foreign interference more difficult seems a logical consequence.\nWho rules the internet?\nIt won't just be the actual infrastructure and 'hard' elements of the internet where governments will seek more independence. Internet governance, the catch-all term to describe the processes and decisions that determine how the internet is managed, and how its technical norms and standards are set, is increasingly complex. \n\n \n\n In principle, no single actor should be in charge of the internet governance processes. Ideally, these should be overseen by a multi-stakeholder model where governments, the private sector and advocacy groups would have an equal voice and where anyone could be allowed to become involved. In practice, however, it is US government institutions and companies – yes, the usual suspects – that set the rules. They tend to be over-represented in meetings, and in charge of some of the largest regulatory bodies. American stewardship over the internet has long been an area of contention. Countries like China, Russia, and many (mainly developing) countries want more control over their own domestic networks, preferring to see the current model replaced by something more Westphalian, perhaps resembling the United Nations. \n\n This discussion will likely flair up again soon as the Trump administration seeks ways to reverse the Internet Assigned Numbers Authority (IANA) transition: an arcane but highly controversial policy issue. IANA is the agency in charge of maintaining the global DNS (Domain Name System) as well as managing Internet Protocol (IP) address allocation and other important basic structural functions of the internet. The internet’s IANA functions had traditionally been managed by the non-profit ICANN (the Internet Corporation for Assigned Names and Numbers), but remained under contract of the US Department of Commerce, which oversaw its processes – effectively leaving it under US government control. After almost 20 years of bickering and international kowtowing, IANA was brought under full ICANN control last October, finally becoming fully independent. This to the great dismay of many Republican lawmakers; particularly senator Ted Cruz, who has been fighting to stop the process for years. \n\n If the US government does decide to overturn the transition (and Trump has certainly shown enthusiasm for overturning decisions of the previous administration), it will do a lot of damage to the American-led governance process. How much credibility can it have when the most important partner doesn't even play by the rules? \n\n As these tensions increase, we'll likely see a push for more government bodies to take control of internet governance (such as the short-lived, Brazil-led NETMundial initiative), abandoning the more inclusive and cooperative approach involving businesses and civil society organisations. Then if the process fell even further apart, it would be a substantial challenge to the interoperable global internet, as regulations and standards swiftly went in different directions.\nThe Big Four\nThough the internet was initially heralded as the greatest democratiser of information since Gutenberg, most data now flows through only a handful of companies. Silicon Valley tech giants, with the 'Big Four' of Apple, Google, Facebook and Amazon at the helm, rake in most of the spoils of the all-conquering global online economy. \n\n In their ambition to expand even further, these tech companies are themselves also an important cause of internet fragmentation, erecting 'walled gardens' all over the world. Facebook's controversial Free Basics service, which offers free data plans to users in developing countries, but which restricts access to a small number of Facebook-approved websites, is a prime example. Some call it digital colonialism. \n\n These moves aimed at generating even more revenue, concentrated in the hands of the few as inequality rises, understandably cause concern among governments and citizens alike. But our main worry should not be about economics. The Big Four – controlling our data, as well as our access to information – wield an inordinate amount of power. Indeed, Denmark recently announced it would appoint a igital ambassador specifically to deal with these technology giants, citing their influence as larger than that of many countries. \n\n Citizens worldwide have become so dependent on these platforms that there are effectively no readily available alternatives to move to if things turn sour. The sheer scale of the Women's March and similar demonstrations in recent weeks would not have been possible without the ability to organise online. What if these channels fall away, their freedom restricted by companies under the yoke of a hostile government? \n\n Though many American technology companies have already pledged they will not assist with the creation of a 'Muslim registry' – and have pushed back on Trump’s latest immigration restrictions\n–\nwe have to be very aware that the amount of personal data they have on each of us would make it far too easy for them to do so. \n\n Foreign governments, which in the current political climate cannot rely on Google abiding by its mantra, 'Don't be evil', will aggressively start to pursue the construction of domestic alternatives. It is something we are already seeing happening worldwide.\nThe splinternet\nThough the dream of the web internet pioneers was one of a completely open, non-hierarchical internet, over the years barriers have been springing up that restrict this freedom. Bit by bit, the internet is becoming more cordoned off.  \n\n The idea of splitting up the internet into different, Balkanised internets – with a completely separate infrastructure – is not new. After the Snowden revelations, Germany took action and started looking into the construction of the 'Internetz', a German-only network (although one that allows for the possibility of expanding to the rest of the EU). \n\n We do not currently have an example of a real internet island in place, but the closest version we see is probably the Great Firewall of China. Though China hasn't built an entirely separate infrastructure, its internet looks entirely different from what we are used to, with content heavily censored and many platforms and websites completely banned. \n\n Russia appears to be following suit. Last November, Russia banned LinkedIn from operating in the country because the social network did not adhere to a new law decreeing that all data generated by Russian users should be stored within Russia itself. In recent weeks, news has also emerged that Moscow has been working with Beijing to implement something similar to the Great Firewall for its own domestic users. Democracies and autocracies alike have long come to understand the great power of the internet and have learned how to both harness and restrict it. \n\n Who will be the first to go it alone? It's difficult to say yet but the usual suspects are lining up: China; Russia; Europe; even Trump's America\n.\nOther countries like Brazil or Turkey might see a compelling reason to do so as well. \n\n Now that we are so used to a ubiquitous and global internet, it's hard to imagine what a world of fragmented, national internets might look like. What we do know is that the internet of fun and games, of unfettered access, is quickly coming to an end. When it does, it will be another big nail in the coffin for globalisation.\nBreaking free\nThe idea of a Balkanised internet, of different national and supranational internet islands, is a dark one. What living in such a future would look like, no one knows. Inevitably, though, it would herald a world of less mutual understanding, less shared prosperity and shrinking horizons. \n\n However, the fragmentation of the internet need not be bad news. As the limitations of its original incarnation are becoming increasingly clear, starting from scratch provides us with an important opportunity to right our initial wrongs. We can build a network or networks that are more ethical, inclusive and resilient to outside threats. \n\n While this is a moment of disharmony and uncertainty for the European project, the EU has much it agrees upon when it comes to policy and regulating the internet's mostly American corporate giants: from its ambitious data protection policies and the right to be forgotten, to Apple tax case. But it could do more. The global internet as we know it today began as a public space where everyone had an equal opportunity to use it as we liked. But it has quickly privatised, locking us into platforms that 'harvest' our data. As European citizens grow increasingly concerned about the negative impacts of the internet, the EU has a great opportunity. \n\n The EU should take a different approach to the internet and, rather than making it an unregulated free-for-all, consider it a 'commons': a public good open to all, excluding none. The EU could create and fund the infrastructure for this and help ensure safety for all. Meanwhile, small businesses and individuals would do their bit by creating a variety of tools to add to this commons, which would become fully interoperable through shared standards and underpinning technologies. \n\n One necessary component of such an internet commons is that it should be decentralised. Decentralising the internet and rethinking its structure would allow users to take back control over the network of networks, letting them manage their own personal data rather than giving it away to large companies, as well as offering them more choice over the tools they use. It is also often said that distributed internets would also inherently be much safer: largescale cyber-attacks are easier to prevent if we reduce the number of central nodes that traffic can travel through. \n\n But a European internet would above all need to be radically ambitious – especially with the EU in a fractured state. The rules for the decentralised, new internet are still wide open, and we have the opportunity to set them. The emergence of a new world order is forcing Europe to rethink itself, come closer together and defend its values in the world. Creating a completely new internet built around these values – and open to any like-minded country to join – might be one extraordinarily effective way of achieving it.\nThis is an extended version of a piece originally published in Nesta's 10 predictions for 2017 series\nCorrection 20 February 2017: this article was updated to correct a few instances of 'web' to 'internet'\nThis article was originally published on TheLong+Short. Read the original article.\n", "questions": [{"question": "A terrorist attack", "question_unique_id": "99914_0Q5X8VEX_1", "options": ["will one day wipe the internet out.", "will cause the world to have a different view of what goes on on the internet.", "is the only thing more frightening than what takes place online daily.", "will not be as detrimental as a well-placed attack on the internet."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0039", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "Because the world relies so heavily on the internet,", "question_unique_id": "99914_0Q5X8VEX_2", "options": ["our economy suffers.", "it must be censored for our own safety.", "countries have to place their own sanctions on it.", "our entire world could crash if it is destroyed."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0040", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "The author of this piece", "question_unique_id": "99914_0Q5X8VEX_3", "options": ["has radical ideas concerning how the internet should be controlled.", "is warning us against what is, no doubt, going to happen to us as a society if we continue to rely so heavily on it.", "sees a truth that society is too blind to see.", "has an idealized version of what the internet should be like in mind."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 2, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 2}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0001", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "The author is afraid", "question_unique_id": "99914_0Q5X8VEX_4", "options": ["that the dark web is going to cause long-lasting issues.", "government is going to cause a revolt through their internet sanctions.", "people have lost sight of what the internet is for.", "that huge problems can come from not having proper defenses in place on the internet."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 4, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0020", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0037", "speed_answer": 3}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0003", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 4}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0028", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "What is ironic about the internet?", "question_unique_id": "99914_0Q5X8VEX_5", "options": ["It was never meant to be such a huge part of society.", "Almost everything that makes the internet function is found on land.", "Major corporations have corrupted it just like the corporate world.", "Donald Trump caused its demise."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 1, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 4, "untimed_best_distractor": 3}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0005", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0026", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0010", "speed_answer": 1}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0018", "speed_answer": 1}], "difficult": 1}, {"question": "One way the internet is damaging society is", "question_unique_id": "99914_0Q5X8VEX_6", "options": ["by allowing social media to overtake the lives of the youth of society.", "through the propagation of false stories and skewing things in the wrong way.", "by dumbing down society.", "giving everyone a platform to say anything uncensored."], "writer_label": 2, "gold_label": 2, "validation": [{"untimed_annotator_id": "0020", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0010", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0026", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 2, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0031", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 3, "untimed_best_distractor": 4}, {"untimed_annotator_id": "0018", "untimed_answer": 2, "untimed_eval1_answerability": 1, "untimed_eval2_context": 1, "untimed_best_distractor": 1}], "speed_validation": [{"speed_annotator_id": "0017", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0021", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0023", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0016", "speed_answer": 2}, {"speed_annotator_id": "0004", "speed_answer": 2}], "difficult": 0}, {"question": "According to the author, who should govern the internet?", "question_unique_id": "99914_0Q5X8VEX_7", "options": ["The \"Big Four\"", "Individual governments.", "The private sector.", "A body made of multiple entities."], "writer_label": 4, "gold_label": 4, "validation": 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"speed_answer": 4}], "difficult": 0}], "url": "https://thelongandshort.org/forecasts/the-end-of-the-web", "license": "Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International License (CC BY 4.0); https://thelongandshort.org/using-our-content"}